#and essentially sideline everyone else

[saturnniidae]

Looking back, I feel like the first redflag with RotT was that it's called Trollhunters:Rise of the Titans, and not Tales of Arcadia:Rise of the Titans

[gavisuntiedboot]

Cherry on Top

Gavi X Physiotherapist! reader (birthday special!)

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: suggestive content!

A/N: I am back once again with more self indulgent fics for my baby boo thang's birthday !!!

~~~

"Doctoraaa! When are you coming home? I'm withering away from boredom and loneliness."

You could practically hear his pout through the phone, imagining him sprawled out on the couch with his feet in the air.

"Gaviraaa I am studying so that I can graduate on time! Or do you want me to keep making a student salary forever?" You held the phone between your ear and your shoulder, still furiously typing away at your sample notes for your advisor.

"What are you even studying? You basically run our whole club's rehab program by yourself. What else do they need to test you on?"

That was actually an excellent question. It was coming up on the two year anniversary since you had become a Barca employee, and you had almost fully taken the reigns. Dr. Gonzalez had checked out, waiting for you to get your degree so that he could finally retire. Nicolas was a good assistant, but was still heavily lacking in his ability to make quick decisions, so he was stuck doing basic PT most of the time. The show was essentially yours to run.

"This last year is testing my leadership ability and teaching skills. When I graduate, I will start running the intern program at the club, and so they have to make sure I can correct staff mistakes."

Your typing was getting progressively louder as you continued angrily editing the note in front of you.

"Take this idiot Aaron. He has not written a single coherent note since he got assigned as my mentoring project. If he were an employee he would have been fired weeks ago. But since this is a "training and learning" opportunity or whatever, I have to fix all his notes and send him the edits so he can learn."

You heard shifting on the other end of the line, and then a soft thud followed by some whispered profanity.

"Pablo please don't injure yourself."

"Maybe it will bring you home faster. Oh no my other ACL!"

Despite his giggle, you went quite on the other side of the line. The day of Pablo's injury had been one of the worst of your life. He had been playing for the national team, so you had no choice but to stare at your TV through glassy eyes, utterly and completely helpless. One of your friends literally had to prevent you from collapsing (though to this day you maintain that it was dehydration, not hysteria). He had called you from the sideline, and the pain in his voice just made you break further.

"I need you."

You had been waiting at the airport to receive him, official team gear on in an attempt to distract fans from the fact that you were fully embracing him and crying into his shoulder. You had almost gone insane in the lead up to his surgery, triple checking the credentials of everyone involved. You stayed by his bed for his entire stay, spending most days and night making sure he wore his brace and didn't make any stupid decisions. It was on one of these nights, when you were once again complaining about not having your favorite undereye cream at his house, that he once again asked you his favorite question.

"Why don't you just move in?"

As usual, you brushed the comment off. Gavi had been asking you to move in weekly for over a year now, always unfortunately dead serious. There was an innocence and simplicity in the way Pablo say the world that you wished you could emulate. He liked you, he was comfortable around you, and he wanted you to live with him. Simple, right?

But it terrified you. You loved Gavi, probably more than anything else in your life. But long withstanding trauma lives up to its name of being long withstanding. That feeling that the expiration date of your perfect relationship was approaching? That never went away. It was like the more time you spent with Gavi, the more you were terrified that he was going to figure out what was wrong with you, why no one could love you until this point in time, and run for the hills. Your apartment was the one space you still had to be irate and disgusting and genuinely yourself without being afraid of scaring him. And it would make it much easier when he eventually broke up with you to date a pop star or a model or Pedri.

"I'm being serious, princesa. You're here every night. You spend more time here than at your own place. You barely sleep in your own bed because you're just obsessed with me and want to take care of me all the time."

"Pablo, we've talked about this..."

"Yes," he said, sitting up and opening his arms in a gesture for you to come cuddle with him. "We have. Back when we had only been together for only three months and we didn't know if you would be able to put up with me."

"Hey!"

"Let me finish." He hugged you closer to his chest, resting his chin on your head and rubbing slow circles into your skin. It was hard to maintain your composure when you were like this, feeling the warmth radiating off his skin and the pressure of his lips kissing your crown every so often.

"We've been together for a year and a half now. I've seen you in bad moods, heard your yelling, plucked your chin hairs-"

He restrained you from getting up, giggling at your embarrassment. He really was the most adorable little thing on the planet.

"I've seen you at your lowest points. Which, admittedly mi amor, were not that low. I saw a tiktok of this guy who had to pull out his girlfriend's tampon. This could be much worse. Hey, look at me."

You turned over, your chest pressed to Pablo's as he brought his hands up to cup your cheeks. You had learned how to do this in the last year, how to steel yourself under his intense gaze. Pablo Gavi looked at you like he was in the presence of a divine being, eyes big and soft and filled to the brim with adoration. He looked at you like just your image was all he needed to keep breathing.

"I love you. So much that sometimes I don't know what to do with it. I want you to move in so I can take care of you, and so that it's easier to let you take care of me. I want to annoy you with my morning training alarm and make you coffee and maybe mess up your laundry when I try to do the washing."

"This is not a convincing argument so far, baby."

"I just want to live with you. And be around you. And hold you like a weighted teddy bear while I sleep."

"What if you get tired of me being around all the time?" You asked between smooshed cheeks, finally losing your ability to maintain his stare.

Gavi refused to even dignify the question with a verbal response, instead letting go of your face to lift the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it over your head. Your cheek was practically burning up pressed against his abs, still defined and solid despite days of immobility.

"Doctora, this is how close I want you to be. At all times. I am about to sew you to my torso. So will you please move in?"

And it was then that you agreed to it. Now the house was littered with so much merch on the walls and shelves it looked like a sports store, but it was yours. A home. You spent months taking care of Gavi, from driving him to appointments to at-home physiotherapy sessions. You took every opportunity to place a gentle kiss on the scar on his knee (ya know, when you were down there ;) ) and avoided all clips that showed him in pain.

"Come on, Doctora. I'm okay."

"I know, I know... it's just not a memory I can bring myself to joke about. Not while you're still in recovery."

"I'm sorry, amor. Can you come home and scold me about it?"

You groaned again, resisting the urge to slam your head into your keyboard. The progress notes were really terrible.

"And besides, you need to finish packing."

This was true. In about 6 hours, you and Gavi would be on a plane for his birthday trip to Ibiza. He had been buzzing with excitement about his birthday trip for months now, eager to take you someplace where there would be nothing to distract the two of you. Just perfect sand and perfect sea for a perfect weekend. He had talked about going farther than Spain this year, maybe Italy or at least Portugal, but injuries have a great way of canceling travel plans.

You reluctantly agreed, telling Pablo you would be home in about 30 minutes, before you began to tidy your workspace. You sent a polite yet pointed email to Aaron (with the head of department CC'ed) explaining that the work was too terrible to be corrected, and he should clear up some time in September to train with you before the season began in earnest and you would be too busy to teach him how to spell "bradycardia".

It was always a humbling experience to pull into the driveway and park your beat up little car next to Gavi's team-sponsored beauty. You were dreading the day he upgraded to something nicer - the neighbors would start thinking that someone was there to rob him. He was already standing at the door smiling wide when you pulled in. He walked up to your door, grabbing all your bags and ushering you inside away from the heat. This had become a regular for Gavi - tracking your location to greet you the second you arrived - so there was really no need to question it anymore. You leaned over and kissed his cheek, eternally grateful for the gentleness he showed you. After a quick yet heated rant about the incompetence of some of the students in your program, you headed upstairs to continue packing.

"Pablo, you think I need to pack more than two dresses?" You asked, looking over the satins and crocheted pieces that your friend ensured you was "totally in".

"I don't think you need to pack any dresses. Or even clothes for that matter."

You raised an eyebrow at your boyfriend, who was leaning casually against the doorframe.

"Am I supposed to be naked for the whole trip?"

"Not the whole trip. Just pack some bikinis for during the day and some cute underwear for the night. The outfit you wear to the airport should be more than enough incase we ever need to leave." He walked over to where you stood in contemplation, arms wrapping tightly around your waist, and his head resting on your shoulder in the perfect position to kiss your neck.

"Be serious, Pablo. What if we want to go for a nice dinner for your birthday? I can't go in a thong or in my plane sweats."

He didn't stop his attack on your neck for an instant, addicted to the warmth and taste of your skin on his tongue.

"Mi amor, mi sol, mi vida - at the risk of being vulgar, I have to say that you will be the nice dinner on my birthday."

Your eyes went wide at this statement, and suddenly you were glad for his arms there to keep you upright.

"I don't even think I have more than one bikini that still fits."

At this, Gavi released you, running to the closet with your yells to slow down behind him (if you had a euro for every time you told him not to run in socks, you could pay off the club's debt). He came shuffling back out with a large black bag, which he promptly dumped out onto the comforter. There were at least ten swimwear sets in various colors and prints, ranging from polka dots to stripes to... was that cheetah print?

"I picked these out the other day. Well, actually, that's a lie. I sent your size to Aurora, and she placed the order online and I just picked up the bag at the store. Can you imagine what Instagram would do with pictures of me buying lingerie?"

"But there's no lingerie here?"

"Fuck." He scampered off once again, returning with another bag to repeat his previous actions. This time the contents were much more sultry, with dark silks and satins staring back up at you. Mainly reds and blacks littered the pale covers.

"Pablo, you shouldn't have. This is too sweet! But we are only going for three days. There's like a month worth of stuff here."

"Are you planning on never going out again after this trip? Just pick your favorites for this weekend. The rest will be waiting for you when you get back, just in case we ever go to the pool or you want to surprise your football star boyfriend by wearing these to work."

You couldn't even be mad at his words when your heart was so full from his gesture. Pablo was always buying you things - that was nothing new. But you had been worrying for days about not looking good on this trip, not having anything new to wear, and he took that burden off your shoulders.

"So I can pick any of these? They look expensive."

"Ay Doctora, don't upset me. Nothing is worth more than your happiness. I do have one request though."

"Yes, mi amor?"

"You have to wear this one on my birthday," he said while reaching past you to pick up a white bikini with red cherries printed all over.

"Why is that?"

"Because you're like the cherry on top of my birthday cake. You always look good, but I want you to look irresistible."

"Okay, let's relax that's a lot of talk for a- oh my God." Your eyes widened, and you grabbed Pablo's face with a dropped jaw.

"Are you okay?"

"Oh my God."

"You said that already."

"Pablo!"

"Yes, princesa?"

"An adult. You're going to be an adult tomorrow. As in not a teenager."

"We arrive at like 11pm so it's more like I won't be a teenager anymore tonig- are you crying?"

"I'm not going to have a teenage boyfriend anymore!" You threw your arms around him, hugging him so tightly there was a fear of his ribs cracking.

"I feel like I should be offended by this statement."

~

"3...2...1... Happy 20th birthday Pablito!" You said softly, a single cupcake with a lit candle on the top held before the birthday boy. It was the same as the previous year (iykyk), but this time with a red and yellow swirl to match the Spanish national team.

"Thank you, mi vida." He closed his eyes, deep in thought regarding his wish, and blew out the candle. He scooped up a dollop of frosting, placing it on your lips before kissing it gently away.

"I can't believe I get to spend another birthday with you," he whispered out, scared that anything louder would destroy the gentle atmosphere around the two of you.

After sharing more sugary kisses, you fell asleep on Pablo's chest, soothed to sleep by his slow heart beat and rhythmic breathing. You woke before him, placing a kiss on his forehead before getting up to dress, snickering quietly at his snoring. The poor boy was so exhausted. You put on the swimsuit he had picked for you, the material fitting you stunningly. You looked at yourself in the mirror and couldn't help but smile. The white and red complemented your skin, your hair framing your face still bare and slightly puffed with the remnants of sleep. Gavi's necklace dangled between your collar bones, the metal cool on your skin. Everything on your body was an expression of love.

Stepping out of the bathroom in your bikini and wrap around skirt, you found the bed suspiciously empty. There was a light breeze coming from the terrace, where you found your boyfriend leaning shirtless on the railing. As if sensing your stare, he turned over his shoulder and wave you to join him. The sun was starting to shine in earnest, the smell of the ocean filling your senses. There was no place you would rather be.

"Good morning, beautiful. I know I asked you to wear that, but I almost want you to take it off. You look too good - I'm scared I'll have to beat every other man away with a stick."

He took a seat on one of the deck chairs, and you took your rightful place on his lap, arms around his neck.

"Good thing this strip of beach is private then."

Your lips found his in a deep kiss, fingers traveling to play with the short strands at the nape of his neck. It was an intoxicating thing to kiss Pablo Gavi. His plush lips molded perfectly to yours, bringing you in impossibly closer. He was always so eager, gently nibbling on your bottom lip whenever he could catch it, soft breaths and little whines spurring you on. Neither of you could bring yourselves to stop, tongues tangled like high schoolers as you made out in the early August sun. His hands were firm on your hips, more for his benefit than yours. He was eager to drag you to the sand, but knew neither of you would leave the room if he allowed your hips to act on their own accord. He relaxed back, allowing you to take the lead, and whimpered a little louder when you bit his lip. It was your giggling that broke the kiss, and you rested your forehead against his, breathless and chest heaving.

"Big Bad Gavi likes having his lip bit. Who would've thought?"

He whined again, finding the column of your neck and to town, nipping and sucking, unwilling to not have his lips and tongue occupied by you just yet. When you started digging into his biceps, he released you, admiring his handy work.

"Pablo people are going to see." You said, pout on your lips and big eyes trained on your boyfriend. He kissed your jutting bottom lip and lifted you off him.

"Like you said - good thing this beach is private."

~

Pablo had so many moments with you where he thought "she could never be more beautiful than this". The first was the first night you fell asleep on his couch, face peaceful with sleep. The next was under the stadium lights, as he thrust a trophy in your hands and lifted you above his shoulders. Then it was in some French hallway, in a ballgown with no heels as he kissed you senseless, finally brave enough to take what he wanted. In coffee shops and grocery store aisles and on his mattress, he always thought there was no possibility for you to be more stunning. But as you lay stretched out on the sand, eyes closed and muscles relaxed, he had the thought again. The sun tinted your skin slightly, making you gleam like a goddess that had just emerged from the sea. The bright white against your skin had Gavi tingling, wanting to remove the pure material and access what it was protecting.

Your hair was soaked, and you laid on your stomach in the sand to gain some color and dry off after the exertion of swimming with Gavi. The sun was phenomenal on your damp skin, and you had never been more at piece. You felt a hand creep up your back, and suddenly your chest wasn't as supported as it should have been.

"Pablo! Did you just undo my top?"

"I'm just unwrapping my present."

He brought you to sit on his lap once again, your loose top fighting to remain around your neck.

"How private is this beach?"

"You think I would let you go topless if there was a chance another soul would see?"

You felt like a teenager again, embarrassed and looking around frantically for someone who would catch you in such an act with your boyfriend.

"I heard beach sex sucks and I'm not eager to get sand in my vagina."

"We're not going to have sex on the beach. I may be more grown up, but I still like seeing boobs every once in a while."

"So you just want to look at them?"

"Among other things. You want to see my checklist?"

You wrapped your arms around his neck once again, kissing him deeply as he fully removed the fabric from your chest. He brought a hand to your back, pressing you against him, your breasts flush against his chest. It was a thrilling sensation, being topless and against your boyfriend with the sun beating down against you both.

Gavi laid back on the sound with you atop him, unclipping you hair to allow it to fall down your back. In your current situation, you were still covered enough to not face public indecency charges. He played with the strands of hair, weaving his fingers into the locks as his teeth caught your bottom lip and sucked on it like his favorite hard candy.

"I'm going to have sand in my hair."

"Guess we'll just have to take a bath together so I can wash it for you."

You kissed him again, his fingers trailing up your torso and brushing the sides of your boobs, sparking electricity in their path. It was so high school: topless on a beach, making out with your boyfriend. But made you stir low in your stomach, a mix of desire and the deepest form of love. You loved Pablo Gavi. You loved his little antics, you loved the pleasure he brought to every aspect of your life.

"Enjoying your birthday so far?" You asked, reluctantly pulling away from his lips, chest heaving against his. Gavi took the opportunity to grab your breasts and squeeze lightly, playing with them like it was his favorite activity in the world.

"More than I can even express."

He brought you against him, arms around you and bodied pressed together, and laid back down.

"So you just wanted to feel me up while we make out?"

"I want to feel you against me, mi amor. I want you to feel how hard my heart beats when I'm around you. I want to do everything that comes to my mind with you. Being topless on the beach. Ordering everything on the hotel menu. Skinny dipping at midnight. Every experience in my life is better when you're in it. I want to make every memory with you, so that when we're old and hold hands in our matching wheelchairs, I can say "Hey remember when we were hot and young and topless making out in Ibiza?" I want to do everything in the world with you."

You pressed your lips to his again, a deep kiss that winded the both of you.

"I love you, Pablo. Happy birthday."

"I love you more, Doctora."

~~~

Okay here it is!! Happy birthday to the love of my life, the light of my soul, Pablo Gavi. I love this boy more than I can express, and he represents so much good in my life. I hope his 20th year is filled with every happiness in the world.

As usual, please like, comment, reblog - all the good stuff. If you like this dynamic, I have a full 10 part series of these two idiots in my masterlist. I also have an ongoing Pedri series! Check that out if it's more your speed.

Please also take a moment to check out the links on my pinned post to help families in Palestine. If you don't have the money to donate but still want to help, every comment with a watermelon emoji under my pedri posts = $1 I donate on your behalf. I think that's all I have to say. Love y'all <3

xoxo, GUB

[14dayswithyou]

no way you dropped the biggest river lore in the tags and moved on like it was nothing 😭 can i ask if this is still your intentions with him? bc it sounds like you changed your mind halfway 🤔

im ngl though i really enjoy how ren and river are similar and different to each other, but does that mean river would hurt his angel but leave our friends alone the same way ren would never hurt his angel but would unalive all of our friends? since they're suppose to be each other opposites. i really hope this makes sense 😬 my final question is what is ren doing on thursday? i want to go on a cute pier date again 🩷🌸

@secretkoa asked: and can i hear more about what unsent memory is suppose to be about or is that off limits? idk if i asked this in my previous question so ignore me if i did! thank yuo and remember to drink lots of water 🐸🌱

⌞♥⌝ For those who haven't seen the original post, I want to quickly clarify once more that while River was originally my OC, he's since been picked up and revamped by my friend Jesse/@unsentmemory!!

However, now that Jesse has stepped away from the yandere community, River's fate (and da fate of Unsent Memories) has kinda been put on the sidelines for the foreseeable future.

‼️ Massive Unsent Memories and River spoilers under the cut ‼️ CW for: mentions of gore, torture, mutilation, self-harm, etc.

With all of that being said, yes, Jesse's original intention for River was for him to be your standard "serial killer-turned-yandere once he accidentally catches feelings for his latest victim (Bunny)". The only main difference is that I originally planned for River to be a generic murderer first, whereas Jesse had him become a yandere right off the bat.

You also asked to know more about Unsent Memories, and I think giving a general synopsis(?) would be fine?? ^^ But basically... After getting involved in a car accident, Bunny wakes up with amnesia and gets tricked into thinking that this random guy — whom they've never met before — is their loving, supportive boyfriend named River. In turn, he convinces Bunny that staying in their shared home would be more beneficial than staying in the hospital as it might rekindle some old memories, he'd be able to take care of them, and it would be easier for them to recover at their own pace. But surprise!! River is actually a frequent patron at the Murderer Motel™ and now has trapped Bunny in his Torture Basement®!!! <3 He also maaaay or may not've been the one who hit them with Ren's car as well... ^^ Oopsie daisy hehe

And yeah!! Similar to what you've said, River was also supposed to share (somewhat of) a narrative foil with Ren!! I personally wanted them both to have similar, complimenting vibes with each other — all while having completely different/separate motives and incentives when it comes to the object of their affection. I'm glad to see it was conveyed well enough; even after Jesse's additions to River's characterisation :3 I know I already shared some examples in the previous tags, but I can share a few more:

Where Ren puts Angel's feelings and opinions above his own, River purposefully ignores Bunny's and does everything for his own personal benefit. Essentially, "I'm doing this for you" vs "I'm doing this for me".

While Ren would never dream about harming Angel in any capacity, he's perfectly happy to kidnap, extort, torture, and kill everyone else... In contrast to River, who's accustomed to torturing and brutalising others for his own twisted enjoyment and sees it as a way to show his interest in Bunny.

Kinda silly how Ren claims to be a freelance programmer (but is actually a hacker) and how River claims to work at a music shop (it's a coverup for his second torture chamber lmaoooo).

[CW: implications of SH] Ren is willing to go as far as mentally and physically hurting himself if Angel asks him to, whereas River is willing to physically mutilate Bunny if it means keeping them by his side. [end CW]

With that being said, you can assume that Ren is easily swayed by Angel's words, opinions, and emotions, whereas River can easily sway and manipulate Bunny due to his own feelings and emotions.

This is something I've actually mentioned before, but Ren always prefers things to be tidy, so he often cleans himself up after disposing of his victims. Compared to River, who casually wears the bloodstains with pride and blames it on getting a bit rough with someone else during a boxing match.

It's no secret that Ren is willing to change every aspect of himself to earn Angel's love, and River is willing to change his serial killer ways to return Bunny's love. Da power of friendship and repressed childhood memories gksdgjh T_T /silly

Ren pretends to be a Normal Guy© with tons of empathy to spare, whereas River pretends to be a Regular Person℗ with the heart of a himbo.

I could go on but you get da point lol

So, yeah!! This is essentially the vibes we had planned for River (and Unsent Memories) before Jesse stepped down /pos ^^ I feel like talking vaguely about UM is fine since River only has a small cameo in 14DWY — and I'm sure that if Jesse ever returns from war (/silly), they'll give River muuuuch more justice than I possibly can :3c

[nataliasquote]

Is It All For Nothing? | n romanoff

Summary: You just want a friend. Is that so bad? How is it fair that everyone else gets one but you. What did you do that was so wrong?

Warnings: idk. just depressing stuff ig

Pairings: none. a small bit of Nat x reader but all platonic

wc: 1.3k

notes: I wrote this in 45 mins in one sitting. It’s written in a different pov than usual and idk if it even makes sense. I just typed and didn’t stop until I was done 🤷‍♀️ the idea just came to me and yeah :)

-⧗-

Frankly, being on the sidelines sucked. Everyone knew it yet no matter how many times someone engaged in small talk to be polite or proclaimed they were there to talk to everyone, somehow you were always left out.

It didn’t matter where you were, loneliness followed like a dormant disease. High school sucked, you were a nobody, but thankfully those years were in the past. But your fifteen year old self didn’t realise that your isolation would carry right on over into your adult life.

And sure, it wasn’t all bad. The nights spent chatting with new friends you’d made that day left you on an all time high, but that just made the fall that much harder. And when the low inevitably came, you could only laugh at yourself at your naivety, because why would things suddenly change? You weren’t someone people stuck around for.

Unfortunately, Shield agents were no different. Those in your cohort were nice enough to say hi in the hallway or invite you into group conversations. A couple even chatted with you over lunch. But you knew they only did it because they felt bad. You saw the difference in their demeanor; you were a spy for god’s sake. They were so much happier with their friends, and that didn’t include you, no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself it did.

There was one agent who’s attention toyed with you that little bit more. Natasha Romanoff was a couple of ranks higher, both in social and training status. But she was always kind, no matter what. You conversed whilst waiting for your training session, mainly her listening as you talked. She was sweet, despite her intimidating facade and before long she had you completely wrapped around your little finger.

For a month, you both chatted any chance you got. If you saw her in the cafeteria, you’d make a beeline for her table, smiling at the other agents as you sat down. She responded to you, her eyes holding yours as you spoke, seeming actually interested in what you had to say. She would joke with you, calling you out with a laugh which sent a flush to your cheeks. You didn’t care what she said, she was talking to you. That’s all that mattered. Maybe this was where your life changed for the better. Evenings that followed those days would be blissful and you would fall asleep with a smile on your face, feeling on top of the world all because of the redheaded Russian.

However, as the weeks went on, days would go by with no contact. At first you just thought she was going on more missions; that was her job after all. But then you’d see that flash of red hair in a meeting room or one of the agents talking about something Natasha had said earlier and it hit you sharply in the throat.

Was she just like everyone else? Playing the pity card, building you up only to leave you hanging once she got bored? Natasha didn’t seem like that kind of person, but had essentially placed her on a pedestal, so of course she could do no wrong. That was your downfall.

Emerging from a debrief with Maria Hill, you tucked a stack of files under your arm and stepped out into the hallway. And there she was, a soft smile on her lips. You reciprocated it and made eye contact, opening your mouth to speak. You hadn't spoken in a few days and you hated to admit it, but you missed her.

But Natasha clearly didn’t feel the same. Her eyes caught yours and then darted to the floor, her feet picking up the pace as she walked past. “I’m sorry Y/n, I’m busy today. We’ll talk later.”

Except she wasn’t busy. Because there she was, standing at the end of the hall laughing with another agent in your cohort. It shouldn’t have been, but it was like a punch to the stomach and you quickly turned around, retreating back into the room you’d left to avoid her seeing you watching her.

You knew that agent. They were friends, everyone saw it. And she was nice enough to you too, but jealousy coursed through your veins and turned you into a green eyed monster.

What did she have that you didn’t? Besides the ability to win Natasha over, obviously. Every single interaction you’d had with the redhead suddenly started replaying in your mind, frantically scanning to see what went wrong. Did you overstep? Were you too pushy? Too clingy? You just wanted a friend, was that so hard to understand? Was it so bad to want?

You thought about texting her, but decided against it. You didn’t want to know the answer. What if your worst fears were confirmed? That she only spoke to you out of pity, and quite frankly didn’t want anything to do with you.

It hurt. It really did. Countless times you wished that she was the one that would change your bad history of making friends. Because when you were around Natasha, nothing else mattered. The days of no contact slipped out of your mind. You’d forgive her for anything in a heartbeat… maybe that was the problem.

You thought the world of her. And she saw that. ‘Never meet your heroes’ that’s what they say, isn’t it? And maybe she wasn’t quite at hero status for you, but you looked up to her. Praising her work when she returned from a successful mission, commenting on the ingenious moves she made to lead her team to victory. She was everything you wanted to be as an agent, with one seriously important factor.

Everyone loved her.

Everyone loved her, and nobody knew you. She was the prize rose and you were behind, stuck in her shadow. They didn’t see you as anyone but the agent who sucked up to Natasha. They didn’t see how hard you worked, how many hours you trained, how much effort you put in. And they never would. Because it was too much. You were a try hard.

A try hard in a room full of effortless people.

Effortless just like that other agent was. She’d been rumoured to move up into Natasha’s ranks and onto her mission team, leaving you struggling in the lower levels. It felt almost childish, yearning after the attention of one single person. But no matter how hard you tried, or how casual you tried to be, Natasha would never see you as anything other than a fan girl.

You knew she was capable of giving you what you desired, you saw it with that other agent. The way they laughed together, developed inside jokes and anecdotal phrases that they brought up in group discussions. You saw the way Natasha’s eyes lit up at the mention of her name, how she gushed over her but also teased her at the same time. Their effortless banter had you choking back tears as you sat one table over, watching with blurry eyes.

You wanted that so badly it hurt.

But if you stopped trying, stopped reaching out, stopped lusting after the perfect friendship you so badly craved with her, would she notice? Or would you fade into the background, silently, without a word. Maybe she would be happy, now that you’re no longer bugging her.

Maybe it’s for the best.

[wings-of-fire-confessions]

Hot take. Everyone needs to stop pointing at one character in Jade Winglet and be like “AH! They're THE asshole of the group! That one! That one specifically!” Because everyone is an asshole.

Moonwatcher won't shut the fuck up which causes people to feel bad (Reference; Winter Turning, Pg. 75) because, hypocritically, she only has a censor if it “benefits” (hard quotation because it has always failed her. Reference; Luna and Moonwatchers interaction) her.

Qibli is an ass, like, a HUGE ass. He pressures Turtle and berates the very thing he's self-conscious about. He's got massive main-character syndrome; he wants power, he always wanted power, but he wants COMPLETE control of power without any repercussions. One of the reasons he refused Darkstalker's offer was because he wasn't entirely sure he would slip something in there.

Winter is an ass, he literally attacks other dragons without thinking about it (Reference; Peril), he's quick to strike and like Qibli, berates Turtle for being “a waste of potential” to his tribe.

Kinkajou goes off on everyone's backs and uses the remnants of the magic scroll to control and transform Darkstalkers against his consent or will. She has essentially killed him via poison. The whole book and DS character arc was trying to push through a narrative that you shouldn't control people, that you shouldn't take away their free will, and that you shouldn't transform their being into a form for your desire and comfort. Yet it's completely flipped on its head because Kinkajou wanted to be “a little silly” with her solution in ending the IceWing and NightWing conflict. She does exactly just this and that makes her part of the asshole list.

Turtle is inactive, his inaction causes a lot of problems for the others in a negative way in order to preserve his own self. He uses animus magic on Anemone just to make sure that he doesn't get any attention but this backfires and his sister is left not only being used as a WMD by Queen Coral, additionally, she is also left feeling alone in her magic. Turtle just sat on the sidelines as he actively watched Anemone get used like a tool by her mother and groomed by a disgusting snotball of a power-hungry political obsessed eel bbq dragon. His “neutrality” was incredibly toxic towards the upbringing of his sister. Yet, despite being the one guy everyone likes to pounce on and beat down he's probably the LEAST asshole character out of everyone in Jade Winglet. You can point at Turtle's issue of “not doing anything” and dig deeper to realize he's a child for one (an even younger child when he enchanted Anemone) and for two it's an unhealthy trauma response from his family. He has helped and supported every single Jade Winglet member in their “fall/on their knees” development and all he ever got in return was those to treat him like garbage (with Peril being the only one who wanted to help him and realizing how shitty animus magic is for him and attempted to make a situation better by ripping up the scroll with good intentions in mind).

Peril is probably the most self-explanatory but she tries. I can't really say anything else about the flaming toaster oven w/ the pizza box inside it dragon that not everyone else has said negatively about Peril before. She's uncontrollable and she constantly talks about hurting others, yak yak yak… Brownie points is that she's attempting to become a better person and trying to find her own path in life.

Now that everyone has run away typing furiously in the comments reblogging tags about this and that I want to emphasize that everything I said above is about CANON CONTENT. You can LOVE YOUR ASSHOLES!!! I personally LOVE MY ASSHOLES!!! There is nothing wrong with acknowledging that the protagonists that you read aren't the greatest people in the whole wide world. I know I wouldn't want to be in the same room as Peril if she was an actual person; with that said that doesn't mean she ISN’T my favorite dragon in the whole gosh darn freaking series. Winter is a bastard, I love Winter. Qibli is a bastard, I love Qibli. Moonwatcher… Actually, no. Moonwatcher can not. (this last one is a joke and a personal opinion, if I was to look at her into it retrospectively and have a positive thing to say I would say she's very neurodivergent relatable, and her power is very autism-coded.).

Jade Winglet is full of bastards.

I love my Jade Winglet bastards.

Stop being in denial and using “well I don't like [Insert Jade Winglet Member] because of what they did with [Insert Plot Point Here]” and accept that your favorite is a bastard. Tired of hearing about this rank system on who's more fucked up than the other and debating if they deserve love and respect for that. Ofc they do. They're your favs, y'all don't need to push or morally justify trying to like your favs by putting another Jade Winglet member down. You aren't impressing anyone or going “GOTCHA!” for this thought process.

Now stop fighting you cursed dragon hyperfixated disaster fandom. (/j)

Drops Mic

.

[bellowsmith]

Sketch of my Ares from my Pantheon project. He's the main character of the whole thing but there's a shocking lack of him on my blog. The sketch is from when he's a lot younger and still living with his Olympian family before shit really began to hit the fan. I feel like a lot of people hate on Ares for a lot of unnecessary reasons, but a big one is him being "hateful war." I think a lot of people miss the point that he is essentially the symbol of all the brutality people are forced to endure because war is forced on them, not on the love of the game. He is quite literally the depiction of a beautiful or fit young man in his prime being torn to shreds by the violence the world can't get rid of. Seven new ways to eat your young and all that. He's also an "import god" though in reality he was one of the first stereotypes in archeological record as he was the Foreigner's God of the Thracians, Scythians, Hittites and pretty much everyone else in Anatolia who the Ancient Greeks described as "Not Greek." He didn't have any places of worship because he was either seen as Not Greek, or he was worshipped by soldiers huddled together in whispered prayer before a fight and thus none of his cult would have survived. He is the reality of warfare that most footsoldiers or hoplites would have been forced to face, not the glory of war brought to generals by his sister, Athena.

In Pantheon, my pet project at the moment, he is the oldest of the Olympian children by a substantial amount, and was the only war god for some time until Athena's birth from Zeus' head when he and Hepheastus were whatever the god version of early twenties is. The two brothers grew up borderline inseparable, as the moment Zeus saw Hephaistos' deformities at birth and chucked him off of Olympus Ares knew he'd have to be the only father figure he'd get. Ares ended up taking the brunt of Zeus' rage and bad father behavior for his siblings so they could hopefully have some type of childhood left, which is how he ended up with the War domain in the first place. He was trained by Iapetus the Titan of warfare at Zeus' behest because before the rest of his siblings and half-siblings were born, all the Godking could focus on was having the best heir to the throne to solidify his claim to power. He and his father have never gotten along though and even as a child he couldn't help but challenge him even when there was no way in hell he was going to win.

He's got that battle adhd baked into him and is also heavily dyslexic which did nothing for his favor with his father upon finding out his prized heir to the throne not only can't behave himself in public but can't read either. Upon Athena's birth he got sidelined and his fights with his father escalated to new heights. Despite having every right to inheriting the Agean Pantheon's territory and throne from Zeus, everyone knows he won't ever see so much as a drachmae should Zeus' death ever come to pass because it's all going to Athena.

Eventually he decides that the Pantheon doesn't need him and that maybe the world would be better if he gave up his divinity anyway. So he slips away one night in search of a better life and thus begins the plot of Pantheon, as a missing war god leaves one hell of a power vaccuum. After all, with no god of war, rage, or courage around, there is no fight back left in the people should someone else come along to take their land...

[the-sprog]

thinking about Naruto MHA crossover where post Shippuden but pre Boruto Team 7 end up in the world of MHA and have to choose a hero name for themselves for whatever reason and this conversation happens

N: "... You know what would be funny?"

Sasu: "You're not going around calling yourself "The Jinchuriki", Naruto."

N: "oh cmon why"

Saku: "We're not letting you call yourself a human sacrifice."

N: "but think of how funny it would be!!"

K: "I'm with him on this one. It would be hilarious."

Saku: "Why not... something related to the Ninetailed fox? Kyuubi or something?"

N: "do you want Kurama to eat you? Because if you suggest that again he's going to eat you"

Saku: "Ok ok. tell him to chill out"

Sasu: "I think he can hear you. Also don't tell the demon that lives in Naruto's stomach to chill."

K: "Yeah sakura. That's rude."

Saku: "I hate you all."

N: "... so I'm gonna go ahead and use jinchuriki-"

S&S: "NO"

N ":C"

Sakura decides on Medic-nin, very basic, she's the first that chose and didn't think everyone else was going to go take it THAT seriously.

Kakashi decides to repurpose his ANBU name and goes by Hound.

Naruto wants to use Jinchuriki because he thinks it would be HILARIOUS and is not letting anyone tell him otherwise.

Sasuke didn't want to do this, wanted to use Uchiha but got outvoted. He gets bullied into choosing Amaterasu. Him and Tokoyami would get along here.

I thought about how they'd go about the quirk thing. They can't attract too much attention using all their abilities, so they plan out what to use.

Sakura thought calling herself the Medic of the group would get her underestimated as the sideliner, but she uses her strength to shatter people's bones while naming them.

Naruto mostly stays within Shadow clones and Henge techniques, as well as speed. He allows himself the occasional Rasengan if things get real touch and go.

Kakashi goes all copy nin on them. I'm going to say he can use chakra to copy emitter quirks, so he goes with that and predicting people's moves and general taijutsu.

Sasuke goes all genjutsu on people. Allows himself the occasional chidori too though. Once they get a reliable way to care for them, he also starts sword fighting people.

In my head the first chapter of the fic would be a pov alternation between Aizawa telling a task force of heroes about the new vigilantes on the rise, all serious and gloomy, and team 7 having the above conversation

I was thinking of why this could've happened and I can very well blame the aliens still. I mean, they make a comeback in Boruto. But I want to ignore that show and make up my own ideas post Shippuden. But I mean. If the aliens have a time traveling device what's stopping me from saying they also have a universe traveling one?

So my idea is that team 7 accidentally activated it and it's got this ENORMOUSLY long cool down because it uses a ridiculous amount of chakra. This was only possible because Naruto was there essentially. So they're mostly chill. It's long enough after the war that the biggest issue is Kakashi isn't there to be Hokage, but I mean. Yamato can fill in for a few. So they're only biding their time and making sure the aliens don't come cause problems. Hence the double identities. They wanna make sure they can both spy around and hang out in public places without being constantly Henged.

Meanwhile the hero commission is in shambles because Naruto is physically incapable of minding his own beeswax, especially when children are being mistreated. He's honestly one fist fight away from befriending the LoV let's be honest.

[david-talks-sw]

What "The Hidden Fortress" (1958) tells us about the Jedi's status in the Prequels.

In 1999, George Lucas had this to say on BBC Omnibus: A Long Time Ago: The Story of "Star Wars" and then The Phantom Menace's director's commentary.

“I greatly admired Kurosawa, especially the film Hidden Fortress, which told a story from the point of view of two serfs, two slaves...

... peasants who tag along with this famous general and a princess-- y'know, royalty. And the whole story is told from their point of view. And I like that idea. I like the idea of telling a story from the lowest person's point of view, uh, in the food chain, and that's how the story got to be told by Artoo and Threepio.”

“[The Phantom Menace] is told primarily from the Jedi's point of view, but the story that's being told is essentially the story of Queen Amidala and her plight of having her planet blockaded. As in, say, Episode IV, where the story is told through the eyes of the droids, in this one, it's told through the eyes of the Jedi.”

“But [from the moment we get to Coruscant, Anakin and Jar Jar] are standing on the sidelines. It's a little bit a riff on the very first film where the story is told through the point of view of the droids, who were sort of the lowliest characters.”

“And in [Phantom Menace], I'm doing it through - primarily - the two Jedi, but then the secondary characters are also carrying a lot of the weight when the Jedi aren't around.”

George Lucas draws a comparison between lowly characters like Hidden Fortress' peasants Matashichi and Tahei, the droids in A New Hope, as well as the Jedi in The Phantom Menace.

What do they all have in common? They are all the lowest-ranking characters in their respective films. Repeat: the movie frames the Jedi as almost at the bottom of the food chain.

Because of course they are. Functionally, they're just diplomats. They hold no political power whatsoever and barely have any authority .

What little authority the Jedi do have in TPM comes from the Queen's young age, which allows them to ease into a more advisory position, and Qui-Gon's rebellious streak. And even he's explicit about the fact that his mandate has limitations.

The only characters "below" them in status are Jar Jar, an exiled Gungan, and Anakin, who just yesterday was still a slave kid, Artoo the literal object and that's it!

Also the other Prequel films are consistent with this portrayal. Who do we see lower in status than the Jedi? Dexxter Jettster and the clones. Everyone else is pretty much above them.

Yes, the Jedi are part of the system, but they're not as high-ranking as you'd think. Yes, they have Force Powers, but that means squat when put against political power. So, like, to expect the Jedi to...

influence the decisions of the Senate,

wage a war against the Outer Rim to end slavery,

or blatantly refuse an order to join the war effort,

... is incredibly unreasonable.

They're not meant to be seen as "the elite, peering down upon the people from their ivory tower".

They're the servants! Servants of the Republic.

And they're seeing their higher-ups destroy what they should all stand for, but are unable to stop them.

Later on, with The Clone Wars, we are introduced to civilian characters and from their point of view, the Jedi are ultra powerful and are highly placed and "should do more but don't".

It makes sense that these characters would see the Jedi as 'the elite'. But they don't have the full picture.

We, as the audience, do.

So we know that the reality is more along the lines of the Jedi "should do more but can't".

After all, we are made privy many instances of the Jedi speaking up and trying to change politicians' minds, only to be dismissed and overruled at every turn.

↑ these aren't even all the times we see it happen, btw, there's more examples...

So at some point, if you - as an audience member - see all this and are still saying "the Jedi should've done more!" I really need to know... what more could they have done?

Take control of the Senate?

That'll result in a dictatorship, there's a reason they waited as much as they did before trying to take down Palpatine.

Power corrupts and they're wise enough to know it.

Don't join the Republic in the first place?

George Lucas never frames the Jedi's involvement with the Republic as a bad thing. In the foreword to Shatterpoint (2004), he says their being part of the Republic led to 1,000 years of prosperity.

Where's the issue, then? Well, it's a two-man job and the Jedi's bosses, the Senate, grew corrupt and stopped doing their part. They stopped carrying their end of the couch.

But “no Jedi in the Republic from the get-go” means the Sith will rise to power even faster. Fun!

Stay neutral in the war?

The Separatists were killing civilians and testing weapons on neutral systems, or enslaving them.

The choice put before the Jedi was "do what we tell you and fight, or let people die".

But also, out-of-universe... do you really think Palpatine, genius politician, master of spin, can't re-frame the Jedi staying neutral in a negative light?

When they joined the war, he unleashed propaganda that either directly (on the Separatist side) or indirectly (on the Republic side) framed them as "warmongers who corrupted their values". If they don't join, they're "apathetic cowards who care more about their own values than the lives of the people they're supposed to protect".

So either way, Order 66 comes around, wipes them out and the Republic goes "good riddance".

So what else could they do?

The answer is "not much".

Because the whole point of the narrative is that Palpatine checkmated them by taking the fight to a field the Jedi had no experience in or right to meddle with: politics.

So if you look at these characters who are nowhere near the top of the food chain, and say "well, why didn't they fix things?" I'm sorry to say you're missing the point of the narrative.

Or maybe you do get the point of the narrative and just aren't trying to be fair...

... in which case, at least be consistent and also argue:

"Why didn't Threepio & Artoo do more to save the Rebel crew of the Tantive IV from the stormtrooopers?!"

"Why didn't Matashichi & Tahei do more to save the Akizuki clan?!"

[ewingstan]

Re: recommendations about Twig, could you elaborate on the “actively insidious stuff” part? I feel like everyone I’ve seen talking about this book has different explanations of what absolutely doesn’t work for them/is objectively terrible, and I’m trying to get more context.

Not sure if you're asking as someone who hasn't read it before, but my answer will include pretty comprehensive spoilers.

The two biggest things that come to mind are the later uses of Jessie and what it implies about what the story sees as an acceptable way to treat trans women, and the endgame writing of Sylvester's mental conditions where it turns him into da joker. The former's been discussed at length, I'll include some of my thoughts on the latter here.

There's things that you can criticize about the depictions of Sy's mental conditions from pretty early on, but a lot of it I was able to enjoy on a craft level. While arc 14 is where a lot of the problems with how Jessie gets sidelined begins, and it had a lot of wheel-spinning action that felt unmotivated, I did really like a lot of the depictions of how Sy was seeing the lambs in his head, how they were taking over and arguing with themselves, his real panic when he wasn't able to picture their faces. It was good stuff! Questionable stuff, but entertaining! Hell, that stuff ended up being the most entertaining parts of a lot of the later arcs; his vision of Mauer ordering him to survive and take vengeance after blacking out from a firebomb is a piece I still remember vividly even though I can't remember anything much else about that section. The way his mental state is handled in the Hackthorn arcs are....mixed; I enjoyed much of the stuff depicting him not being sure whether people were real or remembering what he did, but it wasn't really able to consistently hit the right notes on that. The stuff about him just committing random acts of violence is a point of dissatisfaction here; while there's sections where Sy himself not being sure whether he's done something horrible helps build a satisfying sense of disorientation for the reader, there's other parts (mostly the parts with confirmed real acts of random violence) that just seem trite. Its worth exploring the headspace of people who don't really trust themselves, its worth exploring the lives of people who have horrible and sometimes irresistible impulses, but the whole "my mental illness means I'm taken over by a cold and calculating serial killer" thing is bottom-of-the-barrel storytelling.

As such, the Infante alter is where Sy's arc really loses me. I do kind of like the idea of Sy not being able to grow up in the usual way and having to essentially rewire his mind with Wyvern yet again to become the mature version of himself, but the execution just wasn't there. I don't really think wildbow had a consistent idea on what to do with him: a bundle of violent impulses? A paranoid manipulator who wants to enjoy all the power of a noble? Basically Sy with all his affection for his friends but scary now? It's frustrating how I largely enjoyed the epilogues, with the glaring exception of the chapter that explores what happened to the damn main characters. And one of the main problems in that chapter is the unclear signalling around Lord Simon.

[noopienoopiernoopiest]

Logan Tremblay - #10 - Doux-amer (Bitter-sweet)

For Day 10 of Fic-O-Ween (much thanks to @noots-fic-fests and, always, @lumosinlove).

Pairing: The Cubs Rating: T - sexual situations vaguely referenced.

CW: Food

Description: Logan's first night and last night at the Dumais's as their billet.

---FIRST---

There was a hum coming from somewhere.

Logan had tried to ignore it, but as the night crawled on, it felt as though it was drilling itself right into his head.

He rolled again, flattening pillows that still smelled like maman’s favorite lavender laundry soap. How long before the scent faded? Based on prior experience, Logan put it at around a week, maybe two if he was lucky.

He wanted to sleep, usually never had a problem falling asleep, but most days weren’t like today.

Today had been…

A lot. Today had been a lot. Mostly good, somewhat bad, all of it confusing. Seeing Finn after so much time apart had been almost everything he’d dreaded, almost everything he’d hoped for.

Finn had pushed for everything Logan couldn’t give him. Finn asked for everything Logan refused. And then, Finn gave. He always gave and gave and gave, and Logan took. Logan was always taking and taking and taking. They fell into it again like old dance partners, hating their marks and hitting them anyway.

How long could either of them bear it? How was it going to be? Logan and Finn—friends, never talking about any of it? Logan at Finn’s wedding, staring at the back of his head over Alex’s shoulder as he married someone else, trying to remember to smile so the photos weren’t ruined? Years of interviews asking about their “special chemistry” on the ice and having to laugh and deflect forever? Would Logan settle down with some girl with auburn hair or brown eyes and make comparisons, unfair for everyone involved, hoping one day with a sufficient lack of oxygen it would die (and praying silently in the depths of the night that it never did?)

Finn still had the ability to make Logan feel more things in the space of one evening than he’d felt in a year. He somehow managed to make Logan’s world burst at the seams and narrow down to a pin prick at the same time. The world felt wider when Logan was with him, exuberant and curious and open.

All of it more, and Logan was helpless to do anything other than watch him. With Finn, the world gave him its best show—brighter colors, gorgeous days, the whole world ecstatic at his existence—but all of it sidelined and passed over because what was the rest of it when there was Finn?

And the thrum of it, still singing in Logan’s veins, made sleep elusive.  

He got up, finally so overheated by his overwarm sheets and pillows he couldn’t bear to try any longer. Maybe if he got out of bed, he could leave his racing thoughts to linger behind as well.

The house was quiet and dark as he made his way down the hallway to the kitchen.

He’d just finished a sandwich when he heard it.

There was rustling from the living room. He wandered down the hallway and saw the Dumais’s youngest daughter (Karley? Kelly?) reaching for the TV. Her dark hair was up in pigtails, and she had a soft-looking pink blanket in her hand.

“I wanna watch McStuffins,” she said imperiously. She’d been shy at dinner, ducking behind her mother’s arm and only at the very end of the night had flashed Logan a small smile.

“Uh?” Logan said. Always so eloquent, Lo, an unwelcome voice said in his head. It sounded like late night study sessions and a little like a city Logan had never been to.  So much for his escape plan.

“McStuffins!” she said again, snapping him back to reality.

Thank God for early childhood technology exposure. Logan managed to get the television on and, with some fairly impatient instructions from his helper, turned it to the right show. She made an enthusiastic noise and clapped before settling down and watching, Logan essentially forgotten. He wasn’t exactly sure what to do next. He hesitated for a moment before making his way upstairs. One of the bedroom’s doors was open—a spare, and another had unicorns and ponies plastered all over it. He figured maybe the one at the end of the hall was right.

He knocked softly and waited for a long, awkward moment. He was almost ready to turn around, when a bleary looking Dumo opened the door.

“Logan?”

“Désolé, sorry to wake you,” he said quietly in French. “But your daughter…”

Dumo frowned for a moment before he sighed. “Is Katie up again?” He asked. Katie.

Logan nodded.

Dumo looked over his shoulder and closed the door near silently behind him. “Come on, then.”

Logan followed him back downstairs and found Katie, thankfully, still watching her show.

“Papa!” She said, jumping into Pascal’s waiting arms. 

“Mon chou, we have talked about this.”

“I know Papa, but it was scary in there,” she said, frowning at him. Dumo kissed her forehead and gave Logan a smirk over her head.

“Ouais. Well, alright then. Come. Let’s watch.”

She settled back down on the floor, and Logan wasn’t sure what to do with himself.

“Right, I’ll just—”

“You’re welcome to stay, Logan.” Logan didn’t want to go back to the near silence of the room or the screaming in his head.

They stay like that for a while, neither of them talking in the partially dark room.

“It’s difficult to adjust sometimes. Sirius, well…Sirius struggled with sleep for some time,” Dumo eventually said. There was more to the story than that, it was obvious. Equally obvious that Pascal wasn’t going to talk about it.

“I’ve been sleeping away from home for a long time,” Logan said. Even college hadn’t phased him. Some of the guys got homesick, but not Logan. He missed his family, sure, but he’d been living apart from them for years already. It didn’t seem to bother him. Not like Finn, who’d more than once begged to sleep in Logan’s bed, just to be close to someone. At first, Logan hadn’t had the heart to refuse him. Eventually, he hadn’t had the heart to refuse himself.

“What is it then? You went to see Harzy. The two of you are close, yes? He’s been talking about it nonstop for weeks.”

“Yeah, best friends,” he said weakly. The words felt like bile, the rest of it trying to climb out of his throat. The fucking love of my life. The center of my whole world.

“It’s been a while since you’ve gotten to see one another, I imagine.”

“Yeah. Busy.” Busy ignoring emails until they stop coming, phone calls until it stops ringing, text messages until they sounded like strangers again. Cold turkey.

“A lot to catch up on, then. No wonder you’re still excited.”

Logan hummed in response, replaying the day over and over again. They’d agreed. Friends was better than nothing. Losing all of him was too much to contemplate. He was afraid having half of him may hurt twice as much.

Your fault! Yourfaultyourfaultyourfaultyourfault.

“But, it can sometimes be complicated. Good things aren’t always all good. Sometimes doux-amer?” Pascal continued.

That sounded right for them. Bitter, bitter Logan. Impossibly sweet Finn.

“Yeah, doux-amer,” he said, throat tight.

Pascal didn’t say anything else and eventually, Katie came over and climbed, surprisingly, into Logan’s lap and fell almost immediately to sleep.

“Finally. She does that. Full steam ahead and then she hits the boards,” Pascal said.

“Should we?”

“Non. Goodness. If you wake her up, she’ll never go to sleep again. I’ll stay with you. Let her sleep.”

Logan rested his head on the back of the couch and synched his breathing up with her deep, steady breaths. Before he knew it, the calm quiet of the room and Katie’s weight had him nodding off himself.

“Sleep, Logan. It’s okay. I’m right here.”

---LAST---

Logan’s life started again almost overnight.

In the space of a week:

Sirius Black had been outed.

Remus Lupin had been outed.

Sirius had almost ruined his relationship with Remus Lupin, and therefore, a considerable portion of the team.

He’d sobbed. Cried his heart out like he hadn’t since he was a little boy.

He’d gone to the fucking All-Star game. Played in the fucking All-Star game.

He’d knocked sense into Sirius’s head, a man he idolized like a hero, loved hard like a brother.

He’d come out to him.

Oh, and Finn and Leo loved him.

Leo and Finn loved him and sent him heart emojis almost as often as they sent devastating videos of themselves doing things to one another that made him desperately wish they’d had better timing with all of this.

Things that had seemed impossible only days ago now were past him, had transformed from possibilities to history. Something fundamental loosened in his chest, and Logan felt like he was taking full breaths for the first time…possibly since the day he’d walked into Harvard’s rink on the very first day of Freshman year and met his fate.

He’d been home for two days from the All-Star game and they’d talked about what life was going to look like now. It was hard for Logan to process any of it over the glowing, startling sunglow that seemed to pour out of the two of them. He’d thought he’d loved Finn before. Had, surely. Nothing hurt that bad if you didn’t love it first. But he knew now that it was only a fraction of what it was to have him, to know that Logan belonged to them, that his place was with them. It was heady.

He'd almost forgotten his things until the clothing in his suitcase had run out.

“Dumo,” he said, after practice. Dumo had looked up at him with steady eyes even as Logan hesitated.

“What is it, mon fils?”

“I’m-well, merde. I’m moving out.”

Dumo didn’t seem surprised. “Finn?”

Logan wasn’t sure exactly sure how he meant that.

“Ouais,” was the answer either way.

“That’s wonderful, Logan. You’ll be much more settled there, non?”

---

Logan had come the next day to get his things. Celeste was in the kitchen with an excited Katie making brownies from the smell of it.

“Lolo!!!” She shouted, leaping into his arms.

“Hi, Katie-dee, what are we making?” He asked, rolling up his sleeves.

He’d meant to have dinner and go home, but as the evening slipped by—Adele and Marc arguing over whose turn it was to wash the dishes; Celeste humming to herself as she packed up food and grinning when Dumo came up behind her and pressed against her back before he sneakily grabbed another roll and ran off snickering at the swatting of her dish towel—he couldn’t bring himself to go.

Change of plans. I want to stay the night. Just one last time.

Both of them respond almost immediately in support. And as soon as he was done, he powered off his phone.

“Now then, Katie-dee, we weren’t nearly finished with our story.”

Story was a loose word for it. It had been going for weeks now. It involved Barbie dolls and a giant pink and purple castle and at least half of the available stuffed animals in her room all dragged down into the living room.

“Alright. We were fighting the scary dragon,” Katie reminded him. Logan nodded dutifully. “And we’re trying to save the prince in the tower.”

“Ouais, I remember now.”

He spent the evening with her pretending to be knights fighting off the scary dragon…and the pit of snakes no one had seen…and the evil wizard behind it all…and finally rescued the prince.

“Papa said you’re moving out like Siri did.”

Logan nodded. He’d been dreading this part the most.

“But he said you’ll still be around, right?” Katie looked nervous, fiddling with one of other Barbie’s plastic blond hair. “Just like Siri?”

“Of course, Katie-dee. I promise.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to live with Finn and Leo.”

Katie considered this for a minute and nodded. “I like Finn.”

“Yeah? Me too,” Logan admitted. It felt nice to say it out loud even in this innocent context.

“And Leo is the tall one, right? With the hair?” she held up the Barbie she’d been fidgeting with earlier, the one with bright blond hair.

Logan laughed. “That’s right.”

“Hmm. Okay, then,” she said, nodding again. “They look like they could use your help.”

“Oh yeah? You think so?”  

“Ouais. You never know who might need saving, Lolo. Maybe you can be a knight for them, too,” she shrugged. Logan hadn’t been much of one in the last few years, but maybe she was right. Some things were absolutely worth fighting for.

“Could be.”

Katie gave a big yawn. “I’m tired.”

“Want to watch Bluey?” He asked.

Katie nodded, holding her arms out for him to pick her up.

He’d just got her settled into the couch beside him when Dumo flung himself down beside them. They made it through one episode before Katie was asleep.

“You’re a smart man for escaping, Logan. Too much chaos.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Please. Like you’d have it any other way.”

“C’est vrai,” Dumo said, “Still you’ll have so much peace and quiet.”

“Are you kidding me? Harzy’s like a giant kid. He makes at least four times as much mess.”

“Please. Like you’d have it any other way,” Dumo said, tossing his words back at him. He wasn’t saying anything that absolutely confirmed it, but Logan could tell he knew exactly why it was that Logan was moving in with them mid-season.

“Ouais. C’est vrai.”

“I’m happy for you, mon fils.”

“Me too, it’s just…”

“Doux-amer?”

Logan laughed, remembering.

Katie snored softly from his shoulder.

“Non, not this time. I think it’ll just be sweet.”

Pascal grinned at him. “You know? I think so, too.”

And it really was.

[valle-de-sombra-de-muerte]

Homestuck Reread: Act 5-2, Part 3/5 (p. 2236-2391)

Read the previous post here.

Apologies for the long delay in between posts. I initially wanted to have these reread posts be on a weekly schedule, but that just ain't happening now. The combination of work and fatigue from constant Homestuck exposure is starting to wear on me. So I'm just going to write them when I can find the time. Thanks to everyone who likes and reblogs these posts, I appreciate all of you.

I also went back and added cuts to all my past reread posts because I realize scrolling through these long ass walls of text/images when on my blog isn't an ideal browsing experience. Let's move right along.

Vriska really wants to make it seem like she'll be redeemed for all the bad she's done by reconciling with Aradia. In the meantime, she would very much prefer it if everyone else stopped talking about her terrible deeds. The only way she can think of to make them shut up for good is to do this performative gesture of goodwill. She's not trying to change as a person and atone for her actions: she just wants to rehabilitate her awful reputation.

Terezi's comment about Aradia is noteworthy because she's the only troll who seems to actually care about what happened to her. Everyone else kind of ignores Aradia, but Terezi expresses distress over how Aradia has "changed" since the incident.

From her earlier conversation with Sollux. Terezi will consistently remark how bothered she is that Aradia isn't the same person anymore. It's a shame how their fractured relationship isn't given that much attention outside of these throwaway lines. Like even after Aradia becomes God Tier and regains her love of life, she and Terezi could've bonded and repaired their friendship. Maybe they could've if Hussie wasn't so fixated on forcing this "doomed yuri" dynamic between Terezi and Vriska during the later stages of the comic. Aradia was part of the FLARP group with them too, so why sideline her?

I don't think many people talk about how Terezi was an active participant in helping Vriska kill all those trolls. I'm don't want to sound like I'm drifting into "Vriska Did Nothing Wrong" territory, but it's not like Vriska was wantonly killing people just for the hell of it. She was essentially forced to do it because if she wasn't feeding her lusus those trolls, she would've been eaten/gotten culled for having a dead custodian. Either way, she would've died if she wasn't killing others. A real "kill or be killed" situation.

What was Terezi's motive for helping out? To live out her dumb vigilante fantasy? For Vriska, securing victims for her lusus was a matter of life and death. But for Terezi, it was nothing more than a game. "Oh, but only the bad trolls would've been executed!" Bad according to whom? The Alternian law that sentences people to death for any arbitrary reason? Sure, okay Terezi.

Vriska does call her out on this, at least. But I wonder how many people actually take her words seriously. Too often I see this reductive reading that Vriska is always sinister and deceitful, and Terezi is positioned as her foil by being honest and noble. So by that logic, we as the audience must distrust Vriska and take Terezi's words at face value. That's laughable.

You know, maybe Terezi is a great manipulator after all. She successfully manipulated a good chunk of the fandom to perceive her as trustworthy and one of the moral backbones within the cast.

Terezi actually reaches out to Aradia, both to ask about Tavros's condition, and also to check in on Aradia herself. She repeatedly warns Aradia not to escalate the situation with Vriska, three times in fact. She really doesn't want her to suffer the same fate as Tavros.

I can't help but wonder how much of an involvement Scratch had in the Team Charge Debacle. Vriska draws a line between her friends and the trolls she sacrifices to her lusus. Her victims are a means to an end, but her friends hold sentimental importance to her. She seems hesitant on actually harming them, only giving in after Scratch insistently pushes her in that direction. Killing her friends definitely seems counterintuitive with maintaining a rivalry with Aradia and her long-term aims with Tavros, after all.

Vriska's whole fixation with Tavros is obviously based on what she read in Mindfang's journal. She projects herself onto her ancestor so hard and wants to be just like her. She named her FLARP character after her, models her in-game self as a ruthless pirate, and aspires to have the same romantic relationships as Mindfang once had. She forms a relationship with Eridan (Dualscar) and wishes to do the same with Tavros (The Summoner).

But Tavros is not the Summoner. While the latter was brave and inspirational, the former is cowardly and unambitious. He is not the troll Vriska wants to be her "future matesprit," so she seeks to mold him into someone who can meet her standards.

She hates Tavros for not being the troll she's "supposed to" fall in love with. Scratch uses this hatred to convince her to kill him. She throws Tavros off a cliff, but when he ends up surviving she claims it was for his own good, that she was "toughening him up" and trying to help him be more like the Summoner. This is one of many instances of Vriska performing mental gymnastics in order to justify her actions, even if she doesn't sincerely believe her own explanations. She's trying to convince others, as well as herself, that she is always right.

Vriska is shitty and intensely messed up, but Scratch is much more insidious for using a broken child to do things she wouldn't do otherwise. Even though he is omniscient, he should not be treated as a reliable narrator since he does have his own ulterior motives.

Mhm. Such a waste of her amazing talents. Talents we have yet to witness firsthand. If Vriska really does brag to Terezi about using her magic cue ball to predict the future (and knowing just how obsessive and paranoid a person she is), it really doesn't take a genius to know that's exactly what she'll do when faced with a cryptic threat.

It's interesting that Terezi believes Vriska "went too far" only after killing Aradia. It's her death that spurs Terezi into murderous action, when before she simply wanted to talk to Vriska after what she did to Tavros. We can see who Terezi's favorite member of Team Charge is.

Even though Vriska admitted to Scratch that she didn't want to kill her friends, she puts up a front with Terezi and claims that she was simply eliminating their rivals like a good FLARPer should. And again, she really doesn't want Terezi to keep bringing this up. As long as she acts appropriately guilty, she believes that should be punishment enough for her crimes.

Vriska flips from expressing self-loathing to acting justified and deserving of praise in an instant. She's in a constant state of feigning the emotions that she thinks is most appropriate for any given situation. She'll exhaust every angle she can think of to try and get someone to respond in the way she wants.

Of course, Terezi doesn't back down because she is adamantly set on avenging Aradia no matter what Vriska says. Even though she says she's hoping Vriska can change her mind, she knows her well enough to know that won't happen. It's all part of the bit of framing her revenge plot as dispensing justice.

Vriska becomes increasingly paranoid and indignant when her plans fall apart. She can't accept the fact that all her efforts had been undermined by forces beyond her control, so she's convinced that Aradia had been planning to sabotage her in secret. It's more palatable to her if she's the victim of a worthy opponent's schemes, rather than admitting that her plans were doomed to fail from the very beginning.

I do relate to Vriska a bit when she says she's "not very good at acting like a friend." I hardly ever reach out to people I consider friends, even though I value their companionship a lot.

But in Vriska's specific case, she's so full of herself and doesn't realize how her actions impact others. Whenever someone is close to her (Aradia, Terezi, Kanaya), she takes them for granted and assumes they'll always be by her side no matter what she does. When she does find out they're angry with her, it comes as a surprise to her and she doesn't know what to do to mend that relationship. She's fully aware of what she did to Aradia and her friends, but she thinks she can rectify all of that just by offering an apology and a gift.

Perhaps, on some level, she really does want to go back to the "good old days," but she's too emotionally stunted to understand why her performative apologies don't work. No matter how cunning or charming she attempts to be, she truly does not know how to interact with others because she cannot be honesty. She's always putting on an act, never realizing that people see right through her insincerity and are rightfully put off by it.

If Aradia won't be Vriska's friend, Vriska tries a new angle and tries to re-ignite their "rivalry." And she's absolutely livid that Aradia does not put as much stock in this one-sided dynamic as she does. This reads as an unrequited pitch crush more than anything else in the comic. It's too bad Hussie never really gave that much of a shit about developing troll romance (especially the pitch and ashen quadrants), otherwise he might've done something more with this.

It's a little sad for Vriska, honestly. She can't have Aradia as a friend or even a rival. She's obviously obsessed with Aradia and sees her as a big fixture in her life, but Aradia doesn't view her as anything except a minor nuisance.

Equius initially wants to assert himself as superior to Aradia in accordance with their positions on the hemospectrum. But her overall indifference to his racism, her superior psychic powers, and her ability to manipulate his surroundings as his server player all give him pause. He quickly drops the domineering act and allows Aradia to "do whatever things" she wants (all while under the pretense of "ordering" her to do so, because he can't allow himself to drop his act for a moment).

Because Equius views Aradia as a filthy commoner, a member of their society's lowest social class, it sets his submissive fantasies alight when he realizes the true power she holds over him. The one thing that rivals Equius's love of highbrow culture and maintaining class order is his desire to twist and pervert those same institutions in the name of sexual gratification.

Equius, eternally obsessed with appearances, wants to keep the nature of this "vile" arrangement with Aradia a secret from the others. He is very repressed and feels deep shame for going against the class structure he fervently idealizes. He doesn't want this "degenerate" side of himself to be known, even though nobody else cares about the hemospectrum as passionately as he does and Aradia even points out that her status as the "secret leader" was already an established fact.

Equius acts as if it didn't occur to him that she'd be angry at him for trying to manipulate her emotions. Who would've thought lowbloods had feelings?

Fun fact: This page was actually the newest page when I first started reading Homestuck back in July 2010.

This whole sequence is about the full extent we get about how a pitch relationship would look like. Anger suddenly shifting into passion. What a stupid concept. Troll romance really is just the most unintuitive, markedly unromantic model for relationships and people eat that shit up anyway. I think it was Hussie's intent to design this system to be overly complicated, emotionally draining, and borderline abusive because trolls are supposed to be weird and misanthropic. Yet nobody really comments on this in the text other than a brief "this sure is weird!" before moving on.

Even the trolls themselves don't seem convinced that any of this is "normal." There's never a point where there's an attempt to develop the quadrant system to make it appear normalized in troll society. Instead we get shit like pale relationships that either are doomed to fail or come across as one-sided and dominated by a mentally unwell partner, and pitch relationships that are unfulfilling and end in one partner ditching the other after things get too dysfunctional.

I'll never cease to be amazed that people online will still claim they have real-life "quadrants" despite all this. What sort of brain poison did Hussie inject into this work that affects peoples' behavior like this? Where can I get some to put in my own writing?

Another instance of the early establishment of GamKar in this page. We haven't even reached the quadrants section yet, but we see them being placed in the same relationship category as Nepeta and Equius. Using context clues from the conversations we've seen thus far (both dynamics involve characters with polar opposite personalities having a dysfunctional yet close relationship that is described as "friendship") it's clear to see even at this point why they'd be lumped together.

One detail I like is Nepeta writing "oh nooooo" under the Vriskat panel. Does she think Vriska has feelings for Karkat, and would therefore see her a rival? I mean, considering the last log between them, she might be right to think so. And Nepeta is pretty good at detecting the sincerity behind peoples' words and actions, so... there might be something to that.

Speaking of Vriska and Karkat, let's proceed to the very next page...

In their previous log, we saw Vriska governing the conversation by acting smug and overconfident. Now the tables have turned and Karkat has the power to boss Vriska around. This is a rare occurrence in their dynamic, and Karkat seeks to relish it as much as possible.

But even though he was making a big display about mocking Vriska and acting superior, he does stop and show sympathy when she tells him about her dead lusus.

Karkat describing his hate potential as a "finely tuned instrument" is laughable because he treats everyone with the same amount of aggression and rudeness. Hell, Eridan mistakes his insults as pitch flirting at a later point. So it really seems that Karkat isn't too dissimilar from Vriska when it comes to hating up everyone.

Karkat acts like he wants nothing to do with Vriska, but here he is dumping a whole ton of information regarding her romantic aspirations. Although he frames most of this information in the form of dunking on Vriska and saying she's too immature mentally to handle a romantic relationship, it does come from a place of sincerity and seems to be an earnest attempt at helping her understand her own psyche. Karkat may be empathetic and willing to help others, but he's also tactless and blunt in his manner of speaking. He doesn't shy away from being brutally honest.

Even though Vriska acts uninterested in his ramblings, it's worth noting that she implements her romance scheme with Tavros soon after this. It's almost like she took some of this to heart and really did want to see if she could forge a matespritship with someone, to prove to Karkat that she isn't broken.

Vriska has just received a well overdue lesson in humility and a complete verbal thrashing regarding her entire mental state, but Karkat still offers her a chance for her ego to recover by telling her that he needs her powers for his plan to work. Vriska is surprised at first, but seizes the opportunity to resume being her arrogant self.

The Mobius Double Reacharound. Stupid shit. Hussie never makes good use of this "two team" dynamic because everyone seems to cotton onto the session's true nature pretty quickly. At no point does this supposed competition between them ever feel genuine. There's no real rivalry between the teams, there's no threat for what might happen when one team loses to the other, and there isn't a big climax when the mystery is revealed. It's all just pointless fluff.

I think it would've been neat if the Red Team was framed as these underdogs pitted against an insanely stacked Blue Team. Equius, Nepeta, and Feferi are physically strong; Aradia and Sollux are powerful psychic; and Eridan is an expert marksman. Aside from Vriska (and Tavros, despite not making good use of his powers), nobody on the Red Team has any noteworthy abilities. Karkat could've been aware that he was in charge of a band of misfits and undesirables and use that as motivation to be a stronger leader against a much more powerful opponent.

Have I mentioned already how much I hate the pacing for Act 5-1? At times I feel like I'm reading some idiot's abridged version of a better story that doesn't exist.

Dear, precious Kanaya... Let's try and set the record straight with you.

I think it's funny how Kanaya's intro lists topiary as one of her principal interests, yet this is never alluded to after this point. It's just a flimsy excuse for explaining why she uses a chainsaw as a weapon. And then it goes on to say that the chainsaw would be an ideal weapon to hunt the "broods of the undead" that stalk the planet during the day (another detail that is never relevant), but she never uses it for that purpose either. I don't understand why Hussie gave her this weapon when, in reality, she never uses it for either of its intended purposes. She really doesn't have much of a reason to own one at all!

No, her real passion is her interest in dark, romantic literature. She loves reading stories to indulge in her thrilling and illicit fantasies. Despite the fact that she could easily experience the kind of intrigue depicted in her stories just by going outside and fighting zombies (a task she even has the perfect tool for), Kanaya is much too cautious and afraid of danger to actually do anything aside from holing up in her hive, reading books, and decorating.

It's this trait, not her love of fashion, that has the most bearing on her character. Her risk-averse nature and love of forbidden danger is reflected in her relationships with Vriska and Rose. She admires their confidence and willingness to take risks, but also naively believes she can rein them in with her sensible and calm nature.

Also, can I take a moment to point out that this is yet another parallel between Kanaya and Tavros? Both of them use fiction as a means of escapism. Tavros reads fairy tales because he wants to be whisked away to an idyllic fantasy where he has no responsibilities and the government isn't trying to kill him. Kanaya reads dark fantasy romance because she wants to read about daring, dangerous lovers taking her on thrilling, erotic journeys all while remaining within the safety of her own hive.

But of course the difference is that Kanaya's taste in literature makes her erudite, cultured, and a perfect match for Rose. While for Tavros, it just makes him look juvenile and like a total sissy because Peter Pan is "gay." Totally not a match for Dave, the manliest and coolest character in the comic who totally doesn't have any insecurities to cover up...

Kanaya has a changing wardrobe just like Jade. But since Kanaya's big special interest is fashion, it makes sense that she'd be constantly changing clothes. Does Jade give a shit about fashion? It wasn't part of her laundry list of hobbies, so I say no.

We really needed more chats between these two. Feferi's excessive hyperactivity pairs well with Kanaya's deadpan responses.

Out of everyone, Feferi is the most excited for the world to end because it means she'll finally be free of the responsibilities saddled on her. She'll no longer be expected to inherit the throne and try to reverse the Condesce's cruel regime, she won't be perpetually bound to her hive in fear of assassins, she won't have to constantly keep Gl'bgolyb fed, and she won't have to be responsible for Eridan anymore. She truly believes the game will usher in a fresh start for everyone, herself included.

Eridan is an exhausting person to deal with. Even though Kanaya loves to tout herself as helpful, she really doesn't like Eridan at all. Eridan wants instant, tangible results that coincide with his grand delusions. These are not what he'll get from Kanaya's vague platitudes and take-it-slow mindset.

Even though Eridan is often socially unaware, he correctly infers Kanaya's true feelings for Vriska. Must be from all the romance talk he and Karkat indulge in.

Despite Kanaya's dislike of him, Eridan considers her a friend simply because she's one of the few trolls who will bother to talk with him. He's so desperate for attention that he'll just laugh off her passive aggressive insults as witty banter.

Kanaya really wants to prove to everyone that she's helpful even though she's actually ineffective at best and bothersome at worst.

Far from being the sagacious mentor she wishes to be, Kanaya is really more like an overly cautious busybody who just wants everyone to take things as slow as she likes. Nobody takes her seriously because she has no power to enforce her will. All she can really do is stomp her foot and be passive aggressive if no one listens to her.

To the "Vriska Did Nothing Wrong" crowd, how on Earth do you justify this? "Say you're sorry for being a cripple" there's no excuse for that!

It's funny how Kanaya very slowly moves objects around because she doesn't know how to work the controls.

Kanaya constantly trying to worm herself as a positive influence in Vriska's life is motivated by her huge crush on her. She never actually acts on this crush in a proactive way. She really only talks with Vriska to "keep her out of trouble" but never admits to how she really feels. She sort of blindly thinks everything will work out for her, until she sees Vriska kiss Tavros. And then her response is to act cold and distant to her once they're on the meteor, much to Vriska's confusion.

Like Kanaya really had no business being that mad at her. It shows just how shallow Kanaya's true feelings for Vriska really were if she just ditches her as soon as it becomes clear that she won't get laid.

Can I get a "so true" for Vriska? All the planets are so insubstantial to the overall story that I couldn't be arsed to care about any of their "hidden lore." Most of them are only around for two or so panels before we move on. Medium cosmology continues to be superficial window dressing, what else is new? Let's continue.

Vriska getting agitated that Tavros won't easily roll over and do what she says. She has a plan in her head and won't stop until she sees it come to fruition.

This whole sequence is so twisted. It only really serves to show how badly broken Vriska is and how she doesn't know how to connect with others even when she earnestly tries. She only ends up causing more harm than good. No matter how crafty and elaborate she makes her schemes, she cannot force people to see her in a different light just by willing it into existence.

Anyway, this is pretty much the end of the stupid ass Tavros/Vriska romance plot. It feels good to finally flush that shit down the drain. This section of Act 5-1 is kind of a slog to get through since it has two of the worst romance plots of the whole story. I think the rest of the Act goes along much more smoothly, so I guess we'll see when I get to that (however long that takes).

[merakiui]

thinking about modern au stalker kunikuzushi who has been stalking you for years and so at this point he's essentially witnessed key moments of your life from the shadows. he supports you through all of it, always pleased to know you're doing well or succeeding. one day he'll take you for himself and then he won't have to confine himself to the sidelines. the closest he's ever gotten was when he stood behind you on a crowded train. you didn't pay him any mind.

kuni loves you, but sometimes he can't love all of your choices. so when he learns you're pregnant, he's angry. very angry. so angry he thinks about punching a hole in the wall or marching right up to your door to demand you explain why you'd dare spread your legs for another person when he's all you need. he fumes for all of the nine months, so consumed with jealousy and anger and betrayal. how dare you. how dare you. how fucking dare you!

to make matters worst, he works receptionist at the local hospital and so he occasionally encounters you with your partner or with a friend; both are always so helpful and supportive when accompanying you to your check-ups. for the first time, he hates seeing the happiness on your face. he hates your partner, your friends, your round belly. he catches himself thinking violent, hateful thoughts. he never does anything, though. he smiles politely, talks kindly, has you check in, starts simple conversations like: "how far along are you?" or "it's supposed to be windy today. take care on your way home." they're all basic pleasantries, but you always answer sweetly. he wishes that was his baby inside of you. he wishes he was your partner. he wishes he could sew himself into your life as a permanent fixture and not someone trapped in the dark.

kuni marks off dates on his calendar, each passing day an indication that your due date is drawing inevitably near and that you're starting a family with someone else and he'll never be able to have you for himself. he hates feeling so hollow and incomplete when he thinks of you, your partner, and your child. isn't he deserving of a happy family, too? shouldn't he get that chance like everyone else? isn't he allowed to have happiness?

it's dr. zandik who delivers your baby. a healthy baby girl with bright, beautiful eyes. she's precious and has your eyes, your nose, your everything if kuni is concerned. any features inherited from your partner are looked over because overall she really is the sweetest miracle you could ever produce. kuni has always had a soft spot for weak creatures: for the elderly, for children, for little animals.

dressed in clothes borrowed from his sister, wearing makeup and a long, flowing wig, he stands at the viewing window and peers in at all of the crying infants in their cribs, swathed in soft fabrics, and it finally hits him that you're a mother now. a mother...

there are people around him, crowding the glass to peek at their newborn family members. he thinks someone asks him which child is his. mindlessly, he gestures to the one in the far corner.

dr. zandik is rather amused with the disguise, but he acts like nothing's wrong when he hands your child to kuni, who's pretending to be a relative of yours (that's the clever story they'll tell everyone when your baby is absent from your arms). in return for this favor, kuni has to do something very important for dr. zandik (after all, he isn't going to give without expecting to take something back in return). but none of that matters when kuni holds such a fragile life in his arms and he has to bite back tears because he's not sure if his makeup is waterproof. this is your baby. this is a part of you. this is the thing he's always wanted. a family. a reason to live. he's always wanted a genuine familial connection. and for the first time in his life, he's so indescribably happy. he was angry with you before, but all of that melts away when he holds your baby and she reaches out with a tiny, fragile hand to hold his finger.

the hospital never sees kuni or your baby again. conveniently, he put in his notice a few weeks in advance to avoid suspicion with the reasoning that he would be pursuing further education elsewhere. to the security cameras, it wasn't a man who took your child. it was a woman.

kuni knows you'll be devastated, but you don't have to worry! he'll be the best father, and while he's raising your baby (and keeping a very low profile) he'll continue to plan for the day when he inevitably steals you from your life and forces you into his. then the both of you can be parents, can have a family, can live a happy, wonderful, loving life. it will take time, but one day you'll get to see your little girl and, along with that, you'll finally get to meet him. he's nervous and excited all at once. perhaps these are those fabled first-time father jitters he's read about? :)

[pomegranate-pen]

If requests are open, could i ask for a part 2 fro that one Rocky x reader you did? I just read it and I am AOUYWVDOUWGD I love it.

It ended with him essentially taking himself out of y/n's life right? just disappearing and ghosting them? What if, and hear me out: reader did a little snooping and finds a way into the speakeasy- maybe they know Wick or someone else who agrees to help them out, and they just. go. OFF on Rocky(affectionately. Like they're angry but they're more hurt than anything and they don't care what he does, they just want him to come back because they love him and they miss him and they just hate worrying whether or not he's alive and okay because they don't see him anymore.)

Hope that's enough to get something going, and if requests aren't open, you can totally ignore this! I just love some good hurt/comfort with a dash of good communication. Have a wonderful day/night and thank you so much!

A/N: oh my god?!! so many people wanted a part two to this!! I'm so glad you guys loved it that much!!!!! GAHHHH THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR KIND WORDS!!! one warning though!!! I have written this way before a few asks, so I might not have exceeded everyone's requests here, and I unfortunately do not have the time to completely rewrite this- since finals month have just begun-

Part two of the rocky rickaby angst!

warnings: these are obvious, mentions of alcohol and whatnot. this is pure fluff btw

It has been two months. two, dreadful, heartwrenching, and painful months.

‘Have you gone mad?’ is the question that always echoes in your mind. Especially when no one seems to even speak of the name Rocky Rickaby around you.

The café feels empty without him around. Ivy and Freckle keep acting like nothing is wrong, but their acting is so horrible under your intense gaze, it was like a group of people who accidentally found themselves in improv class instead of their intended one. 

And f you have to hear Ivy say ‘Rocky? Who's that?” and Freckle shaking his head saying his cousin is in the circus, you will scream.

 It was like Rocky truly has died. That night he peacefully passed away and now it is what you feared would happen. There are no more poems, no more chaos, no more silliness of the cat you have grown to love. It’s just quiet, so dreadfully quiet you feel like you’re stuck in a café themed asylum. You miss him and his horrible syrup-filled teas. The ones whose bitterness is completely overtaken by the sugary sweetness so powerful it leaves you craving water.

And as you lay on your bed, with the same drops of rain clanking through your window just like the certain night, you feel yourself getting mad. You’re enraged by his actions. Since when does he decide what you will do with your life? Since when did he want to be the good guy? Who said this is the decision best for you?

With gritted teeth and a lack of sleep, you frantically twist and turn and start running the gears in your brain. You kept thinking, stuck with ideas of what to do to get his attention. Though your half-sleepy mind was making up a very half-assed plan, you were so desperate at this point, you couldn’t handle not seeing him anymore. You couldn’t handle worrying for him through the sidelines no longer. You will get to see him tomorrow, whether he likes it or not.

----

“I’m not allowed to speak a word.”

Frustrating. That is the word you’d use for this situation. Horribly frustrating. Who knew that Freckle Mcmurray could be this stubborn? Perhaps since it was a request from the one closest to him, he follows through with his loyalty till the bitter end.

You’d admire this quality of his if it wasn’t a huge block to you.

“oh come on Freckle, I’m just curious!” Freckle tried to do minimal tasks around the café to throw you off. For a moment he was cleaning the already spotless tables, in another, he was sweeping the dustless floors. “ don’t you think you owe me one after I helped you guys that night?”

Suddenly, he stops sweeping and looks at the ground with silent guilt. his hand having a strong grip on the broom. “ If I paid more attention Rocky wouldn’t have gotten shot in the first place.” His ears lowered a bit and his brow furrowed. His tail slightly shifted from place to place behind him as he started sweeping again.

Oh. it seems like the situation is a bit more complicated than you thought. “Freckle…” you put a hand on his shoulder, making him stop and look at you after avoiding your gaze for a long time. “ it wasn’t your fault— I’m sure Rocky was being…well…” you huffed. “Rocky. You know? No one expected you to know he’ll get shot.”

His ears lowered even more and he looks away. Shit. You made it worse. Now a bit of guilt seeped into you. “ that’s not what happened.” He mumbled, palms holding the broom at different angles and not even cleaning anymore. “ I was the one who was about to get shot. He blocked for me.”

“oh…”

He sighs and leans the broom on the table next to you. he sits down with a look of stress mixed within his guilty eyes now. “if-if it wasn’t for my clumsiness we wouldn’t have been forced to come to you for help!” his hands were now grabbing his head in distress as his tail wagged frivolously more than before.

“Woah woah— calm down, Freckle.” You place your hands on his shoulders, leaning down to meet his level and stopping him from almost ripping his eyebrows off. “ don’t freak yourself out so much. No one is to blame for this situation.”

His eyes squint at you and you cough. “ook— maybe there is— but it’s way too complicated to be just one person’s fault, don’t you think?”

He’s silent for a bit, but his breathing calms down and his eyebrows aren’t as furrowed as before. “I-I guess you’re right.” He sighs. He then went into silence- one where judging from his face, was one of constant conflict. That is until he finally sighs and grumbles out a ‘fine’ as he digs through his pockets and brings out a pretty pin, with a shape of a club on it. He brings you closer as he whispers in your ear.

“did you get all that?” he finally leans back and you get up. you nod your head, the information running in your head on repeat. “good.” He gives out a breath of relief, yet his shoulders tense up again in worry. “d-don’t do anything brash! I promised Rocky you’d stay out of trouble.”

Yet here he is helping you jump into one. You couldn’t help but give a giddy grin. After giving him a playful punch on the shoulder and profusely thanking him, you walk out of the café with a worried Freckle looking back.

-----

Dim, red lights bore the entire cave, pillars clean as a whistle overtaking some of the view and tables as far as the eye could see, yet, emptier than the café is, which is saying a lot considering how quiet that place could get.

Honestly, you didn’t expect to find this place so easily with no trouble. You expected to go over some guards or whatnot for inspection before being let in- but then again—you never were one to associate yourself with danger, you’re quite the newcomer to such things.

You only hoped that your attire was the right one for such a situation, and that you don’t leave this place getting chased by some hitman of sorts. Of which, you don’t think they have, unless you count the trio and the very scary-looking bartender. You swear you saw him glaring at you at some point. Still, you sat down a few seats away from his station and ordered a drink to not seem fishy.

you look around, no sign of Rocky, which now that you think of it, there is a huge chance Freckle told on you and Rocky stayed away. Dammnit! You should’ve expected this— as you try to drink your sorrows away, one sip of the illicit beverage has had the ends of your hair stand in horror. bitter, tasteless, and pure garbage. Oh god— is this what Rocky has been risking his life for?!

“Well well well, do my eyes deceive me, or do we really have a new customer here?” before you could mull over your new discovery, a sly, lazy voice grabs your attention. You turn around and the very first thing you sense is the high smell of his smoke. It invaded your lungs for a moment- and you couldn’t help but scrunch your nose a bit and cough.

“oh, sorry. Forgot not many people can't handle the smell.” He takes out the cigarette from his mouth and sits right next to you, burning down the roll on the counter. He leans on the counter, his shoulders holding his weight. “you new here?”

“whose asking?”

He laughs. “ the leader of the jazz band up there if you’re that scared.”

“the band?” you perked up. “ wait- uh- “You look back at the stage a few feet away from you, yet you see no violin. Perhaps he took it with him like he always does? “…do you perhaps have a violinist playing for you there?”

Zib now perks up a bit as well, giving you a confused glare as he answered. “yeah…but he’s got some new business he does here too.” He takes your glass and drinks it before you could rebuttal. And to your surprise, he doesn’t gag when he drinks it.

“I could’ve had a cold, you know.”

“I didn’t see you sniffling nor sneezin’.”

“what if I had meningitis or mumps that you’ll get now?”

He shrugged. “I’ve been through worse.”

You huffed and rolled your eyes. Best to just ignore his actions for now. “ so…this violinist-is he uh-“Oh god you probably sound suspicious now. You’re seriously way too out of your comfort zone here. “ is he perhaps the same guy who's a waiter up in the café?”

Silence takes over the space, and you're left with an awkward piano playing in the background as the stranger stares you up and down. You freeze for a moment, hoping to whatever celestial being that truly rules this world to let you live another day. Yet, the messy-looking man suddenly starts snickering, then full-blown cackling and at some point- coughing due to his weak lungs- yet still bravely laughing through it. safe to say you're embarrassed as you can ever be.

“you- hahah- you’re the-cough-lil’ cute nurse he keeps talking about?!”

“he— he thinks I’m cute?”

“No wonder you talked about mumps- err- whatever that is.” His laugh dies down and he looks at you with a look of horror and small amusement. “and you actually like him back? He wasn’t lying?”

“he talks about me?”

 “it’s Rocky. Of course he’s talking about you, every day to be precise.” He fiddles with his pocket and takes out another cigarette. You squint at him before he mumbles out a ‘relax, it’s a weaker one’ before lighting it up. “though…he’s been awfully quiet these few days.” He glances back at you. “I’m guessing that involves you coming here?”

You look away from him. “I guess you could say that.” You tap the counter, now remembering Rocky’s face that night- tired and bruised up, a face that makes your heart ache. “ will he be coming back? or is he avoiding me again?”

“I’ll be honest with you newbie,” he lets out a puff of smoke. “he’s in the backstage avoiding you. his cousin warned him.”

“I knew it!” you grumbled as he continued.

“ now usually, I’d advise you to stay away from the kid. But…” he shrugs. “I’ll admit that with your presence in his life, he suddenly got a bit more excited than usual- normally this would be a bad thing- but it does boost his performances on stage.” He then started to mumble a bit. “…although on bootlegging he’ll always be a lost cause…he still tries his best.”

“ but how do I get to him? won’t he run off?”

And with that, the cat gives a sly smirk. Okay…not the most trustworthy look, you thought. He beckons with his hand for you to come closer, and just like with Freckle, he whispers to you a strategy you didn’t expect.

---

A backstage, though more so a greenroom than anything else- since it doesn’t even lead to the stage- the band likes to call it a backstage since they hang out here when there’s nothing to do in the front. However, over the years, it has also become a place for extra storage, for things such as empty barrels and whatnot. And now, it is a hideout for Rocky, who surprisingly, isn’t hiding from an assassin or another angry farmer out to get him- rather a worried nurse whom he likes too much.

“…you sure you don’t want to talk to them?” his cousin, Calvin Mcmurray- though he likes to call Freckle, a habit that has been spread to everyone much to his cousin’s dismay- is staying with him for the time being. Since he doesn’t have much to do anyway, not unless Rocky comes up with a new unneeded task. “they've probably gone through a lot of trouble to get here.”

Rocky, to Freckle’s surprise, is silent. Shifting around and thinking of a solution. “I made the right choice,” he spoke to himself. Now staring at his shoulder which was once shot at. “ they couldn’t have handled this anyway.”  

“…are you okay?” Calvin was confused and no matter what he asks, for weeks Rocky hasn’t told him what happened that fateful night. “ you know if you don’t see them they'll just force you to, right?” he reasoned. “ they're not one to easily give up.”

“there you go questioning my logic again,” Rocky sighs and holds his finger up in a scolding manner. “ what did I say? The plan is simple.” He smiles, then gives a sheepish expression. “ avoid Y/n at all costs until they finally gives up, gets so mad at me that they avoid me themselves all together! Then boom! They're safe and sound and I can easily take risks again.”

“…but…they don't easily give up-“

“nonsense Freckle!” Rocky huffs. “what’s the worse they could do? join the lackadaisy?“

A loud bang erupts in the room as a familiar face barges in.

Your eyes light up when you see him again. After two long months, you can finally see the silly cat whose been on your mind for so long. after two months of constantly wondering if his wounds have opened up or not- and praying that he hasn’t gone to the Dr.Quackenbush guy he spoke about- you finally see him. yet, your expression is frustrated.

“Rickaby,”

Zib whistled. “ last name used, means big trouble buddy.”

You decided to ignore that comment and walk closer to him. Rocky being seated gave you a more domineering look in his perspective, and your determined energy was radiating through the roof. “you can’t avoid me any longer.” You grumble. “especially since it’s not even for your sake- you’re choosing for me. which by the way- is the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever done.” Probably not the most, but you were too mad to think properly. “ if you keep avoiding me like this, then I’ll have no choice but to just get a job here.” you then shrugged. “ from what I’ve seen, they could use a nurse here anyway- or rather anyone who even knows a thing about aid kits.”

“told you they wouldn’t give up,” Freckle squeaked, though he was hiding behind his hat with lowered ears and a scrunched-up face.

Rocky clears his throat as he gets up, grabbing your shoulders and turning you around the other way. “Y/n…an unexepcted pleasure to see you again!” he laughs nervously while looking at the others. “How about we take this conversation somewhere else?”

You cross your arms and pout. “if you don’t run away then sure.”

“don’t worry, we’ll keep guard." Zib spoke as he pats Freckle’s shoulder. You made a note to yourself to thank him later.

“..shall we?” Rocky’s tone has become a bit nervous and sheepish.

With a nod to your head, you speak. “ lead the way.”

----

“alright— now I know there might be some issues when change happens-“

The place he chose, was just a top attic that lead to the surface, where a beaten-up car sat. and to your shock, some dried-up spills of blood on the floor. Rocky sat down on a crate box and motioned you to sit on the other next to him.

“Change? What, am I a kid now?” you sat down. “ what you did was absolutely mindbogglingly-“

“-I did it for your own good.” He cuts you off. “ think of it this way— “ he sits up straight. “your life is normal, it’s peaceful and has a good future ahead of it. though yes someone could argue mundane is boring, you seem to like the mundane from what I've seen- mine though? It isn't like that in the slightest. I work in a ….” He hisses a bit in concentration. “…very dubiously legal place doing odd jobs. You won’t like it.”

“Who said you could make these decisions for me?” you huffed, deciding to now spill your guts before he runs away again. You held his hands, making sure he was looking at you as you spoke, as stressful as it is to have someone stare at you. “ you’re right about one thing. All my life has been normal.” You give his hands an affectionate squeeze. “ but that doesn’t mean I was happy in it. I was sick of normal, of mundane day-in and day-out lifestyle. And then- then I met you.” god, you could feel your cheeks burning up. “you’re fun. Sure you can get too crazy but I like that about you. it’s so easy to talk to you and I just- I just love spending time with you because-..” Your heart was going to beat out of your chest.”… you’re my favorite person.” You huffed out. “I like your presence in my life- you make it worth living. I like how you have this weird obsession with pancakes- I love all the expressions you make while you're debating about something- I like you, idiot.”

Silence took over the room , and you couldn’t help but move your gaze away from embarrassment. Shit— you shouldn’t have said the last part- that was too much- will he ignore you forever now?—

“…so you..wouldn’t mind the injuries?”

You look up at him and shrugged. “ I mean…I’ll certainly get worried, there’s no stopping that. But if you promise to be a little more alert, then I promise I won’t freak out as much. “ you gave him a playful smile.”Just remember to visit me if you get hurt. Not the guy who uses a lot of chloral hydrate.”

“consider it done darling.”

“darling? Really?”

“would you like me to call you ‘Doc’ instead? Or perhaps something more romantic? Sweetheart? Honeydough? Love?—“

“okay Stop-“

“ Why I can go all day!— Sunshine, Honeybun, Lovebug, Hot Stuff—“

“alright alright I get it!” you couldn’t help but give out a giddy laugh. “darling is fine.”

“Anything for you, darling."Rocky gets up and gives a small bow, which the response from you was a small chuckle. “ say,” he gets up. “ how did you meet Zib?”

“Who?”

“the guy you came in with.”

“oh— his name is Zib? Huh, weird name.”

“It’s his nickname, though I’m not sure what his birth name is.”

“was yours always Rocky?”

He grumbles. “you don’t want to know what my actual name was.”

You grinned and tilted your head in curiosity. “oh, don’t be like that! I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

“it is.”

“I’ll be the judge of that. Now spill.”

He stays quiet for a moment, then fiddles with his tie as he answers. “it’s Roark.”

You desperately tried to hide your snort, yet a small bit was let out. Rocky shook his head dramatically. “ridiculous, isn’t it? only my aunt calls me by that name.” he then gives a worried smile. “though usually her tone is always scolding too. So that checks out.”

“no-no- “ you stopped your laugh. “I think it’s a very nice name. but I do like Rocky more.”

“Perhaps you should give me a nickname, darling?”

A small smile tugs at your lips. “perhaps I should.”

You stand up as well. Lean to his level and give a small kiss on his forehead.

“I’ll see you later, my favorite bard.”

“That’s the best you could come up with?” yet, when he says that, his grin is bigger than ever, as much giddy as yours is.

“Is this a way to treat your number one fan?" you rolled your eyes. " And anyway, I’m a nurse, not a poet.”

He gives a soft smile, and for once, you realize how much his smile was always full of energy and chaos, yet this one was different. This one felt calm. He gives a peck on your forehead, and you were certain your heartbeat was loud.

“I’m honored to be your favorite bard.”

you give a soft smile back, and for a moment, there was a sincere quiet glance between you two. that is before Rocky broke it. "by the way..." he gives his common grin. "...did you just confess your love to me?

[racharii]

coming from an enby whos tme (tho i myself am not transmasc), i feel like a lot of transmasc people are doing this "have their cake and eat it too" thing where they want to be perceived as men or men adjacent, in our society a part of the oppressor class, while also still wanting to benefit from structures meant to protect against said class. specifically ones that have been set up in queer spaces. ive met quite a few trans men who were just as vehemently misogynysitic as your average dude bro. and (this is speculation based on convos ive had with trans men im not in every transmascs head) a lot of transmascs have a lot of internalized misogyny that they project onto trans women. ive had an irl ex friend of mine say something that i think encapsulates this particular issue fairly well. this was like 8 years ago, we were talking about trans rep in media (specifically orange is the new black iirc) so im paraphrasing; 'its messed up that we (afabs in this context) are sidelined for people who used to be men, we cant escape the patriarchy.' that was horribly transmisogynistic, so lets unpack it.

it assumes that trans women are just men

it assumes sex essentialism, that they and i were just women. that we were just poor Females having 'our space' encroached on by mean 'former men.'

im not saying that all transmascs think like this ofc. #notallmen. im saying that some do, and enough transmascs have internalized misogyny and not enough self reflection.

just because you are trans doesnt mean you are immune to bigotry and recouping oppressive structures. none of us are free of Sin™️. you as an individual have to make an effort to reflect on your thoughts and actions and how they might affect yourself and others, so that you are not a willing participant of our communities oppression.

for example, ive talked a lot privately about my journey to being a better person, (and pobodies nerfect, its always a learning process, you always will have things you can improve on. and thats okay, were all just human) i initially hated it/its pronouns. 'it' gave me the ick. i was called 'it' as a kid incessantly to make fun of my gender presentation, i couldnt fathom someone else finding peace and even euphoria in using it/its. i bought into the conservative talking points about neopronouns and it/its being detrimental to the trans community. they were "the bad transes" and me? well i use they/them but shakespeare used the singular they so im fine :), im one of the good ones. then one day, i was listening to some video essay idr what or who, but something they said stuck with me, "if it/its makes me happy, why do you care? how does 'it' hurt you really?" my trauma is not everyones trauma, people will find comfort in things that i wont, and thats okay. 'it' hurt me when i was young, by cruel kids and uncaring adults. why am i hurting my community, my fellow transes, by continuing to deny them their autonomy to identify how they like? so i got over 'it.' i saw the real harm was the fucking wedge being driven between us by conservative grifters trying to pick off the weakest in the herd before they go in for the rest of us.

visibility isnt necessarily a good thing for marginalized people. transfemmes are the biggest target of hate in our community atm. they unfortunately serve as the canary. global fascism is on the rise and to be frank, a targeted hate campaign against a trans woman is asking for her to be killed. outed, paraded as a freak, doxxed, swatted, killed. protect trans women, fascism doesnt stop with one group nor will you be saved by being "one of the good ones." trans solidarity, even the people you dont like, even if you think theyre icky or gross or whatever the fuck else you do Not give up trans solidarity. you dont make callout posts, you dont send death threats, you dont send hate mail, if you dont like someone Block Them and move on.

we stand together or we will be eradicated.

[kismetconstellations]

Shiro & Quinn Fabray

You've got it!

Shiro

-Everyone but me is wrong about them. To an extent. Every person I've directly interacted with on Tumblr has an excellent read on his character. But, Lord Almighty, are there too many people who see "tall, ripped cartoon man with sizable bulge in the crotch of his pants", and throw everything else about him out the window to turn him into a sex-crazed, high-libido "seme" stereotype. Not to mention the disgusting ableism surrounding his Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and how it manifests, the fetishization of his second prosthetic arm, and the popular fanon characterizations that seem to have come out of absolutely nowhere. Where did the idea that he has a hang up on profanity come from? He doesn't strike me as someone who regularly curses up a storm, but he's not the Paladins' dad. Why would he care if they're throwing profane language around as long as they aren't offending potential allies or purposely antagonizing each other? And, don't get me started on the "Shiro and Adam adopted Keith" nonsense. I swear, people either overestimate how old Shiro was when he and Keith first met, or way underestimate how young Keith was, while forgetting about Keith's own father, and everything else going on in Shiro's life that guaranteed he had no time to parent a teenager. -I'm obsessed with their character arc. Everything that is and could have been. -They got done dirty by the fans. And, still is, every single day. -They got done dirty by the creators. Astronomically. Infamously.

Just give my VLD Meta tag a scroll, some time. If you want to see proof, and also have your blood-pressure reach record highs. -Wasted Potential. So much, it's physically painful. And, that's Bingo! -ADOPTION PAPERS, ADOPTION PAPERS! FILING THE ADOPTION PAPERS! Shiro is too old for me to legally adopt, being an adult in his mid twenties, but I will gladly take custody of him from DreamWorks and World Events Productions, so they can't hurt him any more than they already have. -I am constantly going insane, rotating them in my brain like a fork in a microwave. This blog, my sketchbook, and the two fanfictions I'm working on, which altogether have a cumulative word count nearing 60k, are testament to that. The Takashi Shirogane brain worms are real. -The popular ships for this character suck. When shipping him isn't the express purpose of a fanwork, people default to his canon romances. And, his ex is a jerk, and the man he's last-minute married off to after barely acknowledging for thirteen-plus episodes is a human-shaped piece of set dressing with less personality than a sheet of cardboard. So, yeah, two of the more "popular" fanon ships for Shiro are terrible. But, even when shipping him is the express purpose of a fanwork, there's a lot left to be desired. Mostly due to him being written wildly out of character for the aforementioned superficial reasons. -Not enough screentime. Nowhere near enough. We can thank the writers who hated him, wanted him dead, then, when they were forced to resurrect him, deliberately nerfed and sidelined him in order to keep the spotlight on their favorites, for that. -They've never done anything wrong in their life. ❤ I actually think Shiro should have gotten to kill more people, specifically Sendak, and Zarkon and Haggar- with Allura and Lotor's assistance- as a treat. -This is the best character in the work. By far. He epitomizes everything a true hero should be, while also being a disabled trauma survivor and proud gay man. I find myself questioning frequently how the brain trusts behind this show essentially created Shiro, themselves, then came to despise him, purely because they were informed by the Powers That Be that they were not allowed to permanently kill him. You would think any reasonable person would be thrilled to hear that their creation resonated so strongly with audiences that killing him would go over poorly. But, not "MonSantos" and crew. They had a ~vision~ for their 3Edgy5Me animated Sci-Fi/Action space opera aimed at seven year-olds.

Quinn Fabray

-They got done dirty by the creators. Jesus Christ, did she ever. I struggle to think of a character in this notorious mess of a series who was handled worse in every single regard than Lucy Quinn Fabray. And, it's all because Ryan Murphy hated Dianna Agron. -Wasted potential. Once again, so much of it, thinking about it causes me physical pain. -ADOPTION PAPERS, ADOPTION PAPERS! FILING THE ADOPTION PAPERS! Judy Fabray does get better after leaving Quinn's dad, but Quinn desperately needed an understanding adult figure in her life that she could feel safe confiding in, who would encourage her to gradually come to accept and love herself as she is, and seek out treatment for her objectively terrible mental health. I would be more than happy to be that adult figure. -What's wrong with them (affectionate)? Severe body dysmorphia, leading to her getting a nose job and forcing herself to lose a ton of weight going into her freshman year of high school. Deeply-rooted shame and self-loathing from being brought up in a suffocatingly repressive religious household headed by her abusive father. Lack of any real friendships. Being date-raped by a boy who plied her with drinks every time she had second thoughts about sleeping with him, resulting in her getting pregnant. Being kicked out of her home because of her pregnancy and shuffled about between her ex, her rapist, and a friend's homes like a cumbersome object. Giving up her newborn daughter after holding her only once. Spiraling further and further with every season... Like I said, Quinn's mental health is objectively terrible. But, rather than offering her any compassion, she's ostracized, vilified, and ultimately cast aside entirely. Because Ryan Murphy hated Dianna Agron for humanizing a character he intended to be a one-dimensional villain. -Not enough screentime. Remember when Dianna Agron said that she wasn't invited back for the tribute episode dedicated to Cory Monteith? Remember how Quinn bought Metro North Passes because she wanted to stay in touch with Rachel after high school, only for her to never get to use them? ...Yeah.

----

Thank you so much for the prompts! ( ´͈ ◡ `͈ ) ❤

[icedteaandoldlace]

3, 6, 9, 10, 21 for the choose violence ask game!

You trying to get me on a hit list? 😂 No but seriously, I'm flattered that you're this interested in my salty fandom thoughts.

3. Screenshot or description of the worst take you've seen on Tumblr.

Oh boy, this is one I've just been quietly losing my mind over ever since shortly after Good-Bye Vibrations aired. One of the dumbest takes I ever saw from the Flash fandom was that "racism won" in regards to Cisco and Caitlin never becoming a couple. As if getting rid of Cisco was the writers' choice to thwart fans of interracial ships. As if their having different skin colors had anything to do with why they never got together. As if Cisco and Caitlin's relationship wasn't heavily sibling coded since literally the moment they were introduced. As if the world needs more amatonormativity, and less TV friendships between men and women that remain purely platonic from start to finish. As if Cisco ending up with the woman who treats him better than any of the others in his life is a negative outcome. As if the main couple on the show isn't a white man and a black woman. AS IF CISCO AND KAMILLA AREN'T AN INTERRACIAL COUPLE. There are several takes that I'm sure could bump this one for the title of actual worst, but that one has stuck with me and sometimes surfaces in my mind again, only for me to wonder what on earth the person who said that was smoking. "Racism won"—because the Latino guy rode off into the sunset with the Asian girl and not his white best friend. But hey, who am I to question the judgment of a group of shippers who make it their full time job to disparage said Asian girl for the unforgivable crime of not being the white girl they wanted him to get together with?

6. Which ship fans are the most annoying?

Klaine and Reylo, obviously, but as far as The Flash fandom goes, Snowbarry takes the cake on most toxic shipdom. Though in terms of individual shippers I could name by url whom I personally find unbearable (I'm not actually gonna name them), there is one Coldflash, two Killervibe, two Westallen, and one Harrisco in particular that come to mind (and one of those Westallens is also obnoxious about Cynco). To anyone who is able to read this post while NOT in incognito mode, congratulations, I'm not talking about you.

9. Worst part of canon.

Fittingly enough to land under this number, that would be season 9. I didn't watch it, but I know enough of what happened to know I'm not going to watch it. And I won't rewatch season 8, except a select few scenes that I enjoyed (namely the Snowstorm flashbacks and the coffee scene in 8x01). Other than that, though, two things that really bothered me were the way the writers prioritized quantity over quality in terms of main cast, just adding characters left and right but not taking the time to fully flesh them out, or to further develop the characters they already had, and (and this is kind of related to that, come to think of it), the way season 5 brought in Nora as essentially the new main character and spent all their time on her storyline, only to kill her off in the end. Everyone else's development took a backseat that season so they could focus on Nora, and they barely even tried to make their new Wells relevant, they basically just let Tom play around on set while they were filming and slipped in a few sleuthy scenes here and there to justify his presence (and I say this as someone who enjoys a lot of the Sherloque nonsense, but he was honestly a pretty pointless addition to the show). And what is the payoff for sidelining everyone else to tell the new girl's story? Just throw her away at the end of the season. But don't worry, a version of her with different memories and a different personality will replace her two seasons later, and her parents' grief for the daughter they knew will just get swept aside because she's "back" now. Just flush the dead goldfish and put a lookalike in its bowl, no one will know the difference.

10. Worst part of fanon.

Oh jeez, so much. So we got A) making Iris out to be toxic/making Westallen out to be incestuous, which is ridiculous, B) the weird obsession many fanfic authors have with either putting Cisco in abusive relationships or making him be his partner's therapist, because the other person in the ship is the real blorbo and Cisco is just a convenient prop to further their development, C) I don't think this technically falls under the category of fanon, but if I see one more "IT WAS ME, BARRY!" joke I'm gonna punch someone in the throat, and D) picking sides—either side, doesn't matter which—during the great Barrisco breakup of season 3. I stay defending them both in that situation, and the way they both get demonized for that is ridiculous. Cutting myself off at 4 things here because this post could go on a long time.

21. Part of canon you think is overhyped.

Every stinkin' crossover ever. Now, to be fair, I do enjoy a few of them, but when you don't watch any of the other shows in the Arrowverse, having to deal with storylines for characters you don't care about is agonizing. And there's just so much about them that just doesn't make sense!! WHY would you put the wedding for your main couple on a different show?! Why would you do that for the reconciliation between two best friends who had a heart-wrenching falling out? Why would you half-ass BOTH of those things instead of giving the audience something satisfying? Why would you bring in some random guy who's not on any of the shows and who no one knows, to be a Big Essential Hero™️ in THE MOST anticlimactic way that didn't require any special skills, and then not even have him show up ever again except for one stupid appearance in a temporary timeline two seasons later? But hey, at least Everyone In The World showed up to appear onscreen for 5 seconds, and then all the protagonists got together and pretended to be besties for the 1.5 days out of the year that they see each other, while all their real besties were off Not Existing for 40 minutes because this ain't their show. There is such a big to-do surrounding every crossover about how big and exciting it's supposed to be, because, "hey, look, everyone's here!" and then most of the time the plots aren't even good.