#and i would actually be okay with it happening if it was ever actually unpacked

[crazyalien87]

Wow you are the fucking idiot here. Where do I even begin to unpack this? How about, uh, trans people existed FOREVER, not just since like the 2010s when misogynist assholes tried to join in. Not so shit, lots of "trans women" are clearly evil do this shit: "campaign for the stripping of women’s rights and rewrite history to make themselves the ultimate victims, get people fired for not subscribing to their delusions, threaten to rape and murder women and children, ACTUALLY rape and murder women and children".

But that's not the definition of trans people? Was ANY of that common in trans people before like, 2010? Were trans people in the 1900s trying to change laws about female-only spaces or cancel people for not agreeing with them? No! But yeah sure, a minority group in a misogynist society got turned in a political topic and was overrun with misogynists, therefore literally anyone who has dysphoria and/or wants to change their sex and/or medically transitions is evil? What's next, are gay men all evil misogynists and not oppressed because some trans women say they are serving cunt? (that's a hyperbole, I know it is not as bad as the stuff you mentioned).

I never said tattoos and hair dye are the same, hence why I said "Yehah I know these are less "extreme" than medically transitioning, but still." Even tho I spelled "Yeah" wrong, I thought it was still clear what I meant. What I meant was by saying that if a trans person transitions, it means they are rejecting themself, which means they are defined by their sex. What happened sex bejng just a neutral characteristic that doesn't define who they are as a person? The medical issues are separate thing, as op didn't even mention that. Besides, what if in the future, they develop better transioning with little to no side effects? Would op feel the same?

"believe in a mythical gendered soul". Seriously? It's almost ALWAYS radfems and GCs saying this and almost never the actual trans people. Just bc yall made an oversimplification of how SOME trans people see their transness, doesn't make it true for trans people in general. I'm sure plenty of trans peolle don't believe they have a gendered soul or brain or mind or dna or whatever tf and they just wanna deal with their dysphoria and be comfortable in their bodies.

"take dangerous and irreversible medications that will force their body to go through changes it was never designed to do, therefore giving themselves permanent lifelong medical issues, " Yeah, well, adults do that shit for other things ALL THE TIME. Shit, women go on birth control that gives them hella side effects even when they aren't using it to cure something. But yeah, sure, if someone is super dysphoric, and they, as an adult along with their doc and psych decide that transitioning is good for them and the risks are worth it to lower their dysphoria, that's not good enough for you. Or, it doesn't happen actually. I could ride in a car every day and risk dying in a car crash or I can drink alcohol and risk liver disease or take benadryl and risk memory loss or....oh wait. Maybe adults should be allowed to do a risk benefit analysis on their own life and body? How about, yeah, some things had side effects and they can be really bad, but that doesn't mean it can never be worth it. I mean, geez, I'm not saying they should give out hormomes and surgeries to any teen transtrender that asks. Like any medical treatment it has to prescribed and there should be lots of gatekeeping to it.

Also, "changes it was never designed to do". Wow. Yeah okay no one's body was designed get to tattoos either. Or birth control. Or use smartphones. Almost like our bodies couldn't get "designed" by evolution for any random shit that humans invent.

"therefore giving themselves permanent lifelong medical issues" as if gender dysphoria isn't ever a permanent, lifelong mental issue that should also be treated.

why should i accept trans people "as they are" if they couldn't accept themselves as they were born? and don't tell me that "they accept themselves, they were just born in the wrong body and the wrong gender», sperm is not a dumb idiot like you, open a biology textbook and find out why the hell you were born the way you were born

[lecoindecachou]

I really hate that Ginny and Georgia never addressed the fact that Georgia called the cops on her mixed race daughter. This show always pretends to be conscious of race and yet it doesn’t see the issue with never mentioning this again?

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

The Alley (and Your Boyfriend?)

Minors, ageless and blank blogs do not interact. Smut written with AFAB reader in mind. ~2.8k words

Jason Todd is your ex-boyfriend. Kind of. You dated, yeah, sure. But it was in high school, years ago now. You had moved away before the school year had finished, and both of you agreed to remain friends, to keep in touch.

Life had different plans for both of you. The last time you had been in Gotham was for his funeral, so you think you deserve some leeway if you're staring at the man across the bar who looks just like him. Well, not exactly like him.

You're supposed to be celebrating your new job in Gotham, the apartment you've finally unpacked with your friends, but his eyes.

You could never forget the color of Jason Todd's eyes. Not when he was your first everything. Not when you know how his eyes would glint before he stole a kiss. How they would shine as he whispered sweet nothings and pretty promises.

(Okay, so maybe he was more to you than you're willing to admit. Maybe he wasn't just kind of your boyfriend.)

You'd probably be lost in thought over the color of his eyes for the rest of night, if his gaze didn't happen to meet yours.

Heat spreads across your face, and you duck your head. Shit. He caught you staring. The big, attractive man across the bar who has the eyes of your dead ex-boyfriend caught you staring.

That's fine. Mortifying, yes, but you quickly focus back on whatever your friends are talking about, trying to play it off.

You're finishing your drink, hoping he brushed you off, when a low voice cuts in, "Can I buy you another drink?"

Your eyes snap up to meet Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome. Your train of thought halts to a stop, he's ever prettier up close.

Before you've even managed to find your words, your friends are pushing you up and out of your seat, scrambling over each other to agree that he can absolutely buy you a drink.

He tilts his head a little at you, feet firmly planted against the ground as he waits for you to answer, "Is that a yes from you, doll?"

"I– yes. Thanks," You stumble out, and you might have gone a little weak in the knees at his grin.

He guides you over to the bar, and holds up two fingers as the bartender comes over. "Whiskey, and whatever they want."

You ask for a refill of your drink and sit beside him at the bar before introducing yourself.

He raises an eyebrow at you, "I'm Jason."

"My ex was named Jason," You blurt out, then wince. That's probably not what anyone wants to hear when they're introducing themselves. And it's definitely not what they want to hear while trying to pick someone up at a bar.

He hums thoughtfully, "I don't remember breaking up with you."

You blink at him, is that some kind of a pick-up line? "No, I meant, I really dated someone named Jason in high school."

He grins at you, "I know. I was there."

You frown a little, "Like in the same class?"

He laughs. It's a really pretty sound, if you weren't so confused, you would have swooned, "No, doll. Don't tell me you don't recognize me?"

Your gaze hardens, "If this is some kind of a joke–"

He says your name, effectively cutting you off, "It's me."

"He died," You murmur, so quiet it almost gets lost under the beat of the music.

He shrugs, and pushes your drink towards you as the bartender sets it down, "I got better."

"Prove it," You retort, fingers tapping the glass of your drink. You're this close to up and leaving. It makes your stomach churn, not knowing what game this man is playing.

He gives you a familiar, lopsided grin, "Prove that I got better?"

You scoff and go to stand up, but you waver at how he actually seems upset over it.

"Hey, hey, wait," he protests, holding out an arm to block you from leaving, "We had our first kiss in the back of Wayne Manor, in that old gazebo covered in vines. You asked me out because I was so obviously head over heels for ya, but I was too scared to ask. You said you'd wait for me when your family moved, and I said I'd wait for you too."

Your breath hitches at his rambling, it's–all of it is true. Memories you held close to your chest but never let yourself relive because of how much they hurt, the bittersweetness of it all. "Jason," You breathe out.

He relaxes, and smiles at you, "Yeah."

"How are you..." You trail off, taking in every inch of him. How much he's grown. How much he's changed.

He rubs the back of his neck, "It's, uh, a long story. It's not very nice either."

You nod slowly, "We don't have to talk about it."

He looks genuinely surprised, "We don't?"

"No, it's just good to, you know, see you," You tell him. It's the truth, whatever story he's carrying, whatever events brought him here, doesn't really matter right now. Not as long as he's alive and in front of you.

"It's good to see you too," Jason tells you, and you feel butterflies when he reaches over to touch your thigh, "Hey, am I really your ex?"

The absurdity of the question makes you want to laugh, "It has been a while since we talked, Jason."

You do giggle when he actually pouts at you, "You said you'd come back to Gotham for me one day."

"I am back in Gotham," You point out, "Got an apartment here and everything."

Interest sparks in his eyes, "Yeah? You're staying around here?"

You hum noncommittally, "In Gotham at least."

It surprises you, how easy it is to slip back into a flowing conversation with him. You reminisce about your shared past, he asks you what you've been up to, how your life has been, and before you know it, your drinks are empty and the bar is informing you of it's last call.

"Can I walk you home," Jason asks, hovering at your side, "or call you a ride?"

Your friends had long since told you they were leaving, and you have the urge to make this night last a little longer. It may be selfish, to want to stay in sight of those eyes, but you let yourself be selfish, "Walk me home?"

The way his eyes sparkle tells you you made the right choice.

You really do mean for him just to walk you home. So you're not exactly sure how you ended up making out with your ex-boyfriend in a dirty alley way.

It makes your head spin, how his hands dig into your waist to tug you closer. How he chases your mouth every time you pull back to suck in a breath.

It's desperate, needy, and you want to keep your fingers curled into the cool leather of his jacket forever. Jason crowds your space, backing you towards the wall, he trails kisses down your jaw, occasionally nipping at your skin to leave pretty, bruised marks.

"Wait–" You start, digging your heels into the ground.

He pauses, and pulls back, "Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't meant to–"

"No!" You practically shout, not wanting him to misunderstand, "it's just– the wall is dirty," You finish weakly.

He blinks, then grins at you, "Is that all you're worried about, doll? Just the wall?"

You nod, sheepish as you fidget with the zipper of his jacket.

He hums thoughtfully and kisses the crown of your head, "I got something for ya," he murmurs, tugging off his leather jacket.

Before you can ask what he's doing, he drapes the coat over your shoulders, and guides your arms through the sleeves, "There, better?"

"Better," You echo, much more willing to let him push you against the wall, to let him suck your pulse and press his hands under your clothes. The leather is soft, smells like him, and the bricks behind you don't even register as he presses against you.

You're both eager, both grasping at fabric and skin. Your eyes light up, when as you're licking a stripe up his neck, Jason tilts his head back and moans.

It's a noise you want to hear again, and when you take his ear between your teeth, you're rewarded with another sweet sound.

Neither of you waste any time to push aside the clothes you're wearing. Half-dressed and panting, you fumble with his belt in the empty alley. He doesn't hesitate to hike your leg over his hip, pressing sloppy kisses along your jaw.

"You're sure about this," Jason asks, lips hovering over the juncture where your shoulder meets your neck.

"Yeah," You breathe out, tangling a hand in his hair to steady yourself, "Are you?"

"Never been more sure of anything," he says firmly, and bites down on your skin as if to seal his words as fact.

He's hungry, as he captures your mouth with another passionate kiss, and you're just as desperate and wanting. Desire pools in your gut as you grind your hips into his, voice pitching into a whine, "Please?"

The neediness in your eyes when you look up at him nearly makes his knees buckle, "Fuck, yes, doll. Whatever you want."

He's not one to make you ask again, and shamelessly presses a finger to your cunt. "Look at you," he breathes out, slowly pumping one finger in and out, gathering your wetness, "You're dripping."

You don't bother choking back the whine that escapes your lungs, only grab his hair tighter when he adds a second finger, carefully working you open for him.

His eyes, your breath catches, when his eyes seem to darken, coveting every reaction you have, every expression that flits across your face.

"Feels good, doll'" he coaxes, scissoring his fingers. When all you manage is a hazy nod, he grins and adds a third finger, curling them as he presses deeper, "C'mon, you can use your words."

"Jason, yeah, feels good," You answer, breathless and full of desire. You squirm, bucking your hips into his hand in an attempt to get him to move faster, "but I want you."

He hums thoughtfully, and presses the palm of his hand to your clit, grinding into the sensitive flesh. When your eyes flutter and your body clenches around him, he coos in approval.

"Good," he says fondly, pressing a kiss to your lips before slowly pulling his fingers away. You almost pout at the loss, but the sight of him lewdly licking off the remnants of you in his hand more than makes up for it.

Your jaw may have dropped, and you may have looked a little more dumbfounded than you're willing to admit, but any embarrassment turns to excitement when he lines his cock up to your weeping pussy.

Neither of you looks away as he pushes into you, inch by delicious inch. It turns you into a whimpering, groaning mess as you sigh out his name, eyes half lidded.

“Yeah, pretty,” He prompts, voice a low rumble as he watches you. He can't pick which sight he likes better, the way your eyes flutter, or the way you're greedily taking in everything he has to give.

He can’t help the smug smirk that spreads over his face when you mewl out his name, clearly delighted at the effect he has on you. “There you go, Doll. Let me hear you say my name again," He coos, trailing his free hand over your thigh to find your clit again.

You're eager to chant his name again when he starts to shallowly thrust between your legs. He moans when you clamp down around his dick, and it spurs him to move faster.

Jason groans deeply as he feels your body react, his eyes darkening with desire as he pushes into you again. You both breathe out a sigh of relief and ecstasy when you take him to the base of his cock.

"Good. Doing so good, doll," he mumbles, using all his self-control to hold the pressure against your cervix for a few moments, letting you adjust, before pulling back slightly.

You tug a little at his hair, it's addicting, how full he makes you feel, how desperate you are for more, "You can move, want you to move."

He hums, and seems more interested in moving his mouth along your jaw, biting and sucking his way down your neck to leave marks on your skin. Jason sucks a prominent bruise onto your freshly bitten skin until it’s pretty and bruised and all his.

You groan, and it only encourages him to drag his hand from your folds and pinch your nipple between his fingers.

"Jason," You protest, rolling your hips to try and entice him to finally move.

“Mhm. You like the sound of my name, pretty? You wanna keep saying it while I make you feel good?” He murmurs, his voice low and rough and breathless against your skin.

He starts to roll your nipple between his fingers, pinching and kneading the sensitive peak.

"Jason, move'" You whine, almost desperate. His eyes lock on your eyes, and you're completely lost to him.

His thumb gives your nipple one last swipe before he settles his hand between your thighs again, eyes raking over your face like he wants to memorize the expression of pleasure that’s taking over at the moment, "There you go, it sounds so perfect when you say my name like that."

His other hand squeezes your thigh affectionately, and before you can protest again, he pulls halfway out, savoring how you twitch around him. You cry out in pure pleasure when he thrusts back into your heat.

He swallows your cries with a kiss, and starts to pick up his pace, steady and relentless.

You can only tip your head back and moan, as you drag your nails along his scalp, panting and trembling under his grip.

“So goddamn good,” Jason mutters, pressing himself as deep as he can go with every movement. He starts to ramble your name, driving his cock against the spot that makes you gasp over and over.

He's relentless, all consuming and you almost miss it when he murmurs against your throat, "Not your ex now, am I?"

You curse, and shudder around him, clawing at his shoulder. It doesn't make his pace falter, if anything it drives him to push a little more, to move a little fast, to test your limits.

You feel his pleased smile form against your skin when you start to chant his name, breathless and needy and so, so close to the edge.

"There ya go, come for me, doll," he encourages, and when you do, when you soak his cock and sob his name, he fucks you through your climax.

He ruts into your fluttering hole until his own hips stutter, his fingers dig into your skin hard enough to leave bruises, and he cums inside of you. He rides out both of your releases, fucking his spend back into you even as it starts to leak and drip down your thighs.

Jason presses his forehead to yours, going still against you, his eyes dart over your face as you both pant, sticky, sweaty, and messy. He grins at you when you blink at him with glassy eyes, "You look good like this. I could see it every day, and it still wouldn't be enough."

You're not exactly sure where he finds the energy to praise you, but it makes you tuck your face against his shoulder as you catch your breath.

He presses a kiss to the side of your head, "Gonna take you home and run you a bath. Then, we're gonna cuddle till you fall asleep and I'll make you breakfast in the morning. Sound good?"

You whine softly when he pulls out of you, already mourning the feeling of him inside you, but you manage to nod.

True to his word, Jason carries you home and draws you a bath. You fall asleep with him curled around you, and when you wake up, the sound of him cooking breakfast makes its way to the bedroom.

And if you entice him to bend you over the counter before you eat, letting the food go cold, or suggest you show him just how well you fit in his lap, that's none one's business but yours.

It shouldn't surprise you, if you do encourage him to find out what you taste like on his tongue, that Jason never really leaves. Sooner rather than later, he'll make sure any use of the word 'ex' disappears from your lips.

[farshootergotme]

I get emotional thinking about how his family would react to Bruce's change if he ever started working on himself, on improving his behavior. But the one I think about the most is Dick Grayson.

Alfred is the one who was there from the very beginning, but Dick Grayson is who arrived and made the biggest impact. He's the first kid who Bruce took in, the one who approached this man and became his first partner to fight by his side out in the night.

Dick was able to pull Bruce out of the darkness that consumed him. No matter how many times Bruce went back, Dick's presence was a constant reminder that there's not only shadows. That if Bruce pushes back, fights so he won't be dragged down, he will find light.

However, it was a cycle. Dick would get him out, but Bruce would go back, sooner or later. And repeat. And Dick realized this and knew he couldn't let that be his whole life. But despite the distance, it still affects Dick knowing he can't find a definite solution for Bruce.

So, seeing Bruce actually change, get better and seeing that last...it would lift the heaviest weight on Dick's shoulders, who's felt responsible for Bruce's emotions since the day he became Robin.

It's been implied to him that Bruce needs him, that he's who keeps him from falling. And Dick, despite not always feeling like he is enough, carries with that responsibility because, deep down, he also feels like he owes it to Bruce, who Dick has needed (still needs) present in his life, too.

Bruce getting better would be like being able to breath again, but it would be so suffocating too.

Dick would happy for Bruce, for the man who raised him. He'd be relieved that the hurt will stop, for both his father and those he's continuously pushed away. But then he'll be anxious, will it really last? How long until he can be sure? And he'll be scared, does he still need him, now? Does a Batman who's gotten help still need Dick Grayson Robin? Nightwing? And lurking in the back of his mind, there'd be anger. Why now? Why after all those years? Why not before? Was Dick not enough reason to change? Was he never worth this? And shame will drown those thoughts. It's selfish, to think that way. He should be happy. He wants to be happy. He is happy. But he is also mad. He's sad and he mourns the child who never saw this side of Bruce. And most of all, he loves. He loves Bruce too much to hate him for it. No matter how angry, no matter how hurt, he loves his father and he's grateful for him, for his efforts. And all he can do is smile and congratulate him because that's everything he feels he has the right to say.

And when all is said and done, Bruce will come to him and Dick will have to face the worst part of this change;

Apologies.

If Bruce has truly changed, then he would know there's more things than he can count with his fingers that he has to apologize to his son for. And out of everything else, this is what Dick Grayson fears the most.

Dick can take it, he can hear Bruce out, but he can't unpack all the pain he's been accumulating in front of his dad. He can't bring himself to say 'I forgive you' out loud despite having convinced himself long ago that it's alright.

Bruce doesn't didn't do apologies. Things happened and then went back to normal and Dick was okay with that. He forgave him, he did. So, Bruce doesn't need to apologize, he doesn't have to make him say it out loud. He can't tell him, but he's forgiven him long ago. Even if it hurt, even if he was still resentful sometimes, even if he wanted to yell at him for it, Dick could push it all down and forgive him. Bruce shouldn't apologize, shouldn't bring it up again because Dick isn't strong enough to keep it all bottled up if Bruce starts acknowledging it, if he confirms that Dick wasn't crazy for feeling wronged and hurt.

He can take it, but he really can't.

Just thinking about it drives me crazy because, out of everyone, Dick Grayson might be the kid who's been waiting for this the longest, and who thought he'd already given up the idea of his father finding a lasting happiness that would bring permanent change in him. And it would be just so overwhelming.

[beelinx]

leo valdez as your bf hcs

a/n: honestly i prefer fully writing out stories but i love him sm and wanted to rant about him so </3 also i WILL be writing hcs with different godly parents, so if you want request your godly parent and i'll do it ^^

apollo kid - ares kid - hypnos kid - hecate kid

OKAYY HEAR ME OUT

Leo’s literally the perfect boyfriend

Haters will try to deny it but he IS

He remembers every little detail about you like that man is fr dedicated.

At one point he literally had to make a little notebook to write down all he has learnt about you because he didn’t want to forget.

I think his love language would be acts of service or gift giving, and the love language he would like to receive is words of affirmation.

To be honest I love the idea of clingy leo so I also DO think he would be big on physical touch but that’s not really his love language.

He’s just really touchy.

Your birthday is THE day for him ok he has like a thousand gifts prepared + a random firework show

He just really wants you to feel special on your big day <3

Obviously since Leo does so much for you, you do stuff for him, too.

But if you ask him, just you being there is enough for him

Literally just tell him you think he’s amazing and he melts on the spot.

He sometimes feels undeserving of love, of you, but you’re quick to remind him of how important he is and how much he means to you.

Literally human heater

Holding his hands / cuddling w/ him during cold days is peak comfort I fear

But on warm days hugging him feels more like fighting for your life

He's sulking in a corner because you don't want to cuddle

But cuddling with him during summer is like walking into a furnace

Leo is actually so proud to have SOMEHOW pulled someone as beautiful and amazing as you so trust he will show you off to everyone.

Somehow finds ways to bring you up in conversations that don’t even involve you honestly.

He could be talking about literally anything and somehow relate it back to you.

He’s THAT guy

You guys can hate all you want but like I say he’s big on pet names 😭

If you think one of them is gross then he’ll just pull out another one and start using it until you either say you like it or hate it

I don’t think he’s actually used your real name since you got together.

Because ever since then it’s just been one cheesy pet name to a cute nickname to the GROSSEST thing you have actually ever heard, and then repeat.

If you’re a half-blood too then he would make “your mom” / “your dad” jokes and think it’s hilarious

It really isn’t.

He’s gonna get jumped one day

That isn’t really going to stop him though…

Kinda on the same track but he’s (obviously) big on joking and stuff.

He loves making you laugh <3

Lucky for him though you think he’s actually HILARIOUS

Conversations with him almost always end up with you struggling to catch your breath after one his dumb jokes 😭

You tell him he’s the funniest person you’ve ever met and he literally bursts into flames.

Yeah he might be a little bit too into praise.

That's something you need to unpack later...

Okay so we all know he’s like a big flirt and stuff

But honestly I think that the second he realized his feelings for you were the real stuff he would stop with everyone but you.

You mean so much to him and he’s scared you’re gonna run off thinking he’s some playboy or something.

You never thought that but it’s sweet how much he cares.

He says “I love you” on a daily basis because he’s scared of something happening to either of you, and telling you how much you mean to him beforehand.

Honestly he wouldn’t let you go one minute thinking he doesn’t care about you because

You are literally EVERYTHING to him.

And he loves you more than anything in the world <3

[lucky-clover-gazette]

my favorite moments from theamandafiles’s confrontation with volo. this is an adult woman talking to a screen for 7+ minutes and im obsessed with it. the dynamic she’s made up in her head for this game is so far from what’s actually happening, but also absolutely fantastic. the sneasler rant has nothing on this.

transcript under the cut:

He is so passionate about his thing, about his special interest. He really is. I am constantly losing my grip on reality. I have no room to judge Volo for a little bit of unhinged laughter and some mildly insane musings.

Hmm? Sorry, I just. I think I just realized what's going to happen. Sorry. Am I an idiot?

That was your—that was you who did the hole in the sky. Okay, mhm, all right. I got blamed for that, Volo, I don't know if you knew that. It's fine. Honestly, it's fine. Just let's keep, let's keep learning more about Volo.

Right, yeah, we did that! We did that, Volo, right? Didn't we fuckin' do that? Why don't we donate them to a museum or something? Wouldn't that be sick? Would that be fuckin' awesome if we put them in a museum for all to see?

What's—what's this? Hey, what the fuck? Who's this? Is this a prank? Surely, with the hair. Because I did not just see that you have a fuckin' Arceus hairdo.

Oh, okay! Volo's crazy! Right, right. Look at the fucking hair. Yeah! No, Volo's fucking crazy—yeah, no, he's a deranged lunatic.

Actually, yeah. Look at his eyes, oh my god. Volo's going to kill me and then cook and eat my remains. It's. It's fine. I'm fine.

Pokemon Wielder Volo? You mean (voice cracks) Gingko Guild Merchant?

You know what, Volo? I'm crazy, too. Look, I can match this. Like you said, when you said you were going to wipe out Jubilife City, I'm all for that. I am all for that. Absolutely! Yes! Let's do it. We can make this work. I am not invested in helping these people. Yeah, we live in a society? Not for long, am I right?

Just, I looked at the costume again. And his hair. He—he did his hair, you guys. And it's... bad.

First and foremost, what the fuck are you wearing? Literally, I keep looking at it. And the more you look, it's like, the more you look, the more you see.

I'm just really unpacking this... as I kick his ass. Anyway, where was I, Volo? Let me just continue to fuck you up. Volo is really doing this. Volo is really doing this. He's doing it in green pants.

He method acted an entire love story between us. Yeah, he is that crazy. He's that crazy, that he's going to let me slip through his fingers. Are you sure, Volo? You really sure? Maybe, like, that was your plan at first. Because if I may be so bold, uh, it's actually not even fucking possible for anyone to spend as much time with me as you have without falling in love with me.

Like I said, I said it before, and I will stand by that—and I'm about to beat you, by the way—

Call me. Call me, Volo! Oh wait, you can't, because we live in the fucking past, and you don't have a phone. And I do. Mhm, yeah. You know, you can't call me on your arc phone because Arceus didn't give you an arc phone, did he? Oh, poor Volo. He did his hair like Arceus and everything. And for what? Right. It was probably the green pants, Volo, honestly. And the gladiator sandals, what the fuck are you doing?

What the fuck was I thinking? God, why do I always go for these crazy ass fucking men?

I don't want to be picked by Arceus! If anything, I wanted to be picked by you! But unfortunately, I'm amazing. And Arceus loves me. I'm sorry that your little fucking hairdo didn't work to impress Arceus, and that all I had to do was literally exist and Arceus stanned the hell out of it.

What, are you going to kill me? He's going to kill me with a knife now just to get me out of the way. Like, what the hell, why does everybody want to fucking kill me?! I get it. I'm the best. I'm amazing. I'm the best that ever was. But murder is illegal, okay?

What is this? Are you fucking kidding me? What is this act? Oh, my god. Volo... this is very camp.

Volo is fucking crazy. Did I even get to heal these motherfuckers? Am I supposed to catch this motherfucker? This Satan ass Pokemon. This is Satan, I guess. And he came to, like, pull up for fucking Volo. Why? The hair? Was it the hair?

Finally, I got, like, a word in edgewise. Finally. Acorn, take this motherfucker out. Yeah. This is embarrassing for you. You're a God Pokémon? Where? You could have fucking fooled me, Giratina.

I do find it very inspiring that my little tugboat-ass Jay Jay the Jet Plane Togekiss, like, ended your entire bloodline. Mhm, yeah.

Volo! Oh, honey, sweetie, are you okay? Are you going to be okay?

He's fucking crazy. He's so crazy, Volo, I fucking love your crazy ass... but this is toxic of me to say, so, I hate it. I hate you. What was I talking about? Yeah. No, you're such a bad guy. You're the bad guy, Volo. I didn't even read that, fuck.

I know, Volo. Believe me, I would have agreed with you when those motherfuckers kicked me out in Jubilife City. I would have agreed if you had come to me then and you would've said, "Let's take down the whole fucking world. Let's end the entire planet." I would have said, "Okay. Yeah. Oh, yeah. Hell, yeah. That's exactly what I want to do right now." But you didn't. And now I'm here, and I'm... being noble, and I'm going to say, "You better stop, because this is not okay. Cut it out."

I'm crazy too, Volo, I'm so fucking crazy. I'm so unhinged, I'm crazy, nobody understands the inner workings of my mind, Volo, you don't get it.

This is your last chance to scoop me up as your partner. Honestly, Volo. That's what it is. I would fix your hair, I would. We would go back to the salon—to the salon!—I would fix it up. It's not that bad. It just needs a little shaping.

(Deep sigh) Volo, you could have had it all. I would have been your crazy bitch. We could have been Bonnie and Clyde, Volo. And we still can, honestly, if you say the word. And let me fix your hair. And also your outfit.

So I also just want to say really quickly, I noticed that you had a Togekiss, and that means that your Togepi that you had in the beginning evolved to a Togekiss. But in order to do that, I think you need to love your Togapi. So it's like, you do—you did have the capacity to love someone.

He's fucking unhinged. He's deranged, he's crazy. Like, why did his eyes go crazy like that? What the fuck?

He actually looks so good right now, like, minus the hair. The hair is so bad. Volo, that is the one and only reason Arceus did not choose you. Honestly, that's all it comes down to. Easy as that!

But I'm putting my thumb actually, on the—I'm putting it on the screen, over the weird part of your hair? I'm begging you. Let's destroy society together. Come on.

That's so sad, he's, like, hanging up his hat. Actually, please put the hat back on. He's giving me something—he's giving me the plate. Spooky plate. Yeah, that's for sure. That's for damn sure, Volo.

Why do you suddenly look so good? You know, you look deranged and crazy like a fucking lunatic. And I could have swore you off forever, but now you look so cute and good. And I'm like, what the fuck were you thinking, Volo? You threw it all away for what, the arc phone? Bitch. It's really not even that good of a phone. Honestly, there's, like, no games on it.

I don't know. I figured like, a true Arceus fanboy would be impressed and enamored by the girl who Arceus is simping for this hard. Like, if you were to date me, I'd literally bring you with me to meet Arceus, and you'd be able to live your stupid little dream.

Although I will say, for someone who so deeply wants me to fail, you giving me that last plate, that spooky plate... I dunno. It's just kind of interesting, and I am reading into it. Yes.

Volo you are fucking out of your mind. You're crazy. I tell you, you're fucking insane. Somebody wheel him off. Seriously, what the fuck? He's going out in public looking like that.

[ba9go]

bokuto koutarou misses your anniversary

timeskip!bokuto (msby black jackals), fem!reader, hurt/comfort, flufffff

koutarou has never missed your anniversary in the 7 years you've been together since highschool. come hell or high water, koutarou would never miss your anniversary for the world.

this year, however, was different.

koutarou's career meant a lot to him. he lives and breathes volleyball. and as the msby black jackals' starting wing spiker, koutarou was vital to the team.

it just so happened that the fivb world championships were going to be held the day before your anniversary. in switzerland. which was 14 hours away from japan.

it was a huge deal, the fivb being a week-long international tournament and all, and the jackals were facing the russian team zenit kazan in the finals.

it sucked. it sucked even more when koutarou broke the news to you, even if you'd been understanding.

"it's okay, kou," you smiled at him warmly.

"it's not okay," koutarou sulked, burying his face in his hands. "i don't wanna be away on our anniversary. it's hard enough to be away from you for a week. can't we just fly you to switzerland? please?" he peeks at you sadly from between his fingers.

"sorry, but i've got work, kou," you murmured quietly, gently prying his hands off his face. you squeezed his hands reassuringly. "go do your best out there, i'll be rooting for you. i promise we'll celebrate once you're home, okay?"

"okaaaay," koutarou pouted, but interlocked his fingers with yours to squeeze your hands back. "but i still don't like this."

koutarou hated this, actually.

not only had they lost the match, but there was a slight delay in his flight back to japan. the plane landed at kansai international airport closer to 10pm than the initially stipulated 6pm.

koutarou tried not to let his frustration get the better of him. the last thing he wanted to do was to come home late and angry. he tried to calm down in the cab driving back home.

koutarou reached the front door of the house at 11.16pm. that gave him... roughly 44 minutes to spend his anniversary with you. great.

he didn't bother unpacking his luggages, instead leaving them in the doorway and making a beeline straight to the bedroom. the door was slightly ajar, and the room was dark save the warm yellow light from the lamp on the nightstand.

koutarou felt his heart sink as he walked towards you, curled up in bed alone. 'i'm too late,' he thinks sadly, crouching next to the bed and staring at your face, tired but beautiful. he imagines you, trying to stay up even after a long day of work. 'she must be so disappointed in me.'

"y/n," koutarou whispers softly. he feels tears start to well in his eyes. "i'm home. i'm sorry for making you wait."

you stir ever so slightly in your sleep.

koutarou leans over and presses a kiss against your forehead. when he pulls back, your eyes are wide open and staring right at him.

"kou? kou!" your face breaks into a grin and you fling your arms around him. "you're back!! when did you get back?"

koutarou is bewildered. you're not mad at him?

"you must be so tired, baby! have you taken a bath? let's run you a hot bath, okay?" you sit up and move to get off the bed when koutarou catches you with his arms around your waist.

"i'm sorry," koutarou whispers against your chest. he squeezes your waist like he's afraid you'll disappear on him at any moment. "our anniversary's ruined, because of me."

you instinctively wrap your arms around the back of his head, cradling him. "you didn't ruin anything, kou," you ruffle his hair lovingly.

"we didn't even win." koutarou's head falls to your lap. you continue patting his head.

"that's okay. i'm still proud of you."

"i missed our anniversary."

"you're here now, aren't you?" you smile at koutarou when he looks up at you from your lap. he nods slowly. "that's more than enough, kou."

"really?"

"of course. happy 7-year anniversary, koutarou. i adore you."

what can i say. bokuto has been my comfort character since 2017. thank you for always being here for me bokuto!!!!! :D

[pupkashi]

to love is to linger

a/n: i read this in a tiktok comment and i burst into tears, love is such a beautiful thing and i hope every single one u gets to experience this kind of love bc u absolutely deserve it <3

wordcount: 825

masterlist

if there’s anything satoru hates more than being away from you, it’s leaving your home after spending time with you. he can’t help the way his stomach drops and the frown that settles on his lips, the slump in his shoulders and the sparkle that seems to die in his eyes.

“i cant find my keys! guess I’ll have to stay the night” he smiles, already pulling you into his embrace, you don’t resist, not wanting him to go either.

“we both know you already hid them in your jacket pocket, lover” you smile, eyes fluttering shut and melting into his chest a bit, breathing in deeply before pulling away.

satoru is quick to keep you firm in his grasp, pulling you slightly so you wouldn’t move too far from him. “maybe i can help you clean up a bit more? didn’t you wanna sweep?” he asks, hope glittering in his eyes as you look at him with an incredulous smile.

it’s a beat of silence before you place your hands on his chest, pat twice and sigh, “okay yeah, stay for a bit more and help me clean up.”

there’s a giant smile on satoru’s face as the words leave your lips. he’s bounding over to you like an excited puppy, sweeping you off your feet and twirling you around, placing a sloppy kiss on your cheek before setting you down.

“should we put some music on?”

this seems to happen every time satoru had to leave, starting up a conversation just as he was about to reach for his car keys, stringing you along until you’d tell him to sit on the couch again, he could spare 30 minutes right?

there was countless times where he was already out the door, saying goodbye when he’d turn on his heel, eyes wide as he proclaimed, “oh my god i almost forgot to tell you!” before dropping the juiciest gossip known to man.

“are you serious? wait come inside we have to unpack all of this” you’d immediately say, ushering him back in and preparing some coffee or hot chocolate for the two of you.

it would work every time, satoru would practically skip back into your home, snuggling into the couch he’d grown fond of as you began to talk again.

he’d do everything in his power to linger around, even when he’d eventually stay the night with you, having to say goodbye in the early hours of the morning.

“i could stay and make breakfast,” he’d suggest softly, the sun on barely making its way into the sky, the moon bidding the world goodbye.

“toru it’s 6 am,” you mumble, “you’ve been late enough this week,” eyes closing already as you feel your body giving into the clutches of sleep.

satoru pouts, he knows you’re right but doesn’t care that much. “what’re they gonna do? fire me? kill me?” he chuckles at the thought of them trying, kissing your forehead as you open your eyes just to scowl at him. “alright, fine I’ll go, just say you hate me,” he sighs dramatically.

you smile a bit, “cmere,” you mumble, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him in closer to you. satoru wastes no time in plopping himself back into bed, cuddling up to your side. he lets himself relax in your arms, sighing and closing his eyes, not moving for another 10 minutes before he decides he actually does have to get to Jujutsu tech.

“I’ll see you tonight?” he asks, stretching as he stares at you, cozy as ever in the warm blanket he’d bought you.

you nod your head, “and don’t be late, angel boy” you smile, blowing him a kiss as he walks out the bedroom door, catching it and bringing it close to his chest, smiling ear to ear until he’s closing your front door.

even when the two of you move in together, he still lingers as anytime he has to leave, roping you into a conversation, convincing you for just ‘five more minutes’ when your alarm goes off. he’s chasing after your kisses in the doorway, mumbling a quick ‘one more!’ before he’s grabbing you by the waist and deepening the kiss, smiling into it when you easily melt into his touch.

gojo satoru does everything in his power to linger around you when he has to leave. to him every second with you counts, every moment is fleeting and every minute without you seems a minute wasted.

it doesn’t go unnoticed by you, melting your heart when he makes up a blatantly obvious lie to spend even a mere second longer with you.

to love is to linger.

to spend every moment you can with those you love. to do anything in your power to lengthen the time you have with them. to love someone is to spend all day and night with them and dread the moment you have to leave their side.

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @sat6ru @beautiful-is-boring @sweetheart-satoru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi

[phoenixcatch7]

Okay you know what actually yeah. I was tired but I had a point.

Why. On earth. In zelda fics. Do people not shut up about everything being hylia's fault forever and ever.

Like, the one deity out of a dozen odd who got cursed into this right alongside Link. All the focus on one great all being power who then gets blamed or blessed for everything that ever happens. It's just... I don't know, it just seems like a culturally Christian thing. Not even that - American catholic.

Especially Legend omg when people write him he never shuts up about how everything bad that's ever happened to him is all hylia's fault and she's doing it on purpose with no thought to her poor beleagured hero. He sounds like someone who grew up in an American conservative household who turned out to be queer and never bothered to unpack any of it and acts like he's now atheist.

But even then you could do something interesting with that!! The common headcanon that Legend is hylian royalty - of course that family would put immense worth and worship on hylia as her descendants, she who founded their kingdom. And maybe legend could feel bitter about not inheriting the magic, or the throne, or whatever meant he grew up away from the castle. Give him some unexamined religious trauma! Heck, he could bond with Flora over disappointing your family's expectations or something! They could work on unpacking it together! If you must make it part of his character at least think about why!

Because that belief is wrong, because hylia is literally the one deity we can pretty safely understand is not all seeing, all knowing, all being.

Every time she has a voice, a role, we see her make mistakes or be tricked and have regrets.

Skyward sword, she's literally zelda. She's a young protective warrior goddess (she used a sword and lead armies to battle against demise) who was created by the Three to guard the triforce and keep watch over hyrules lands. By the time ss starts she's already made several tough calls, not limited to yoinking hylians into the sky. When she was zelda she hated every second of leading Link around and even then!! It all hinged on him being completely willing! He was never forced to do anything, she didn't even have her memories with the plan until after she'd fallen to the surface! Their relationship was entirely genuine and she very nearly overestimated her own willingness to go through with the plan! And even then she still managed to get kidnapped lmao. That's not what happens when you're in charge of fate.

And in botw and totk - she's in her full divine form, her full divine powers, she's ancient and magic and worshipped in every corner of the kingdom. And (spoilers!) she loses contact with one of her own mf statues. Not just any ten apples high chibi statue you see in the towns, no, it's The Big One. She's got no idea what happened to it, but she's (rightfully) worried, and asks Link to check it out. And in an entirely separate instance, her OTHER big statue in the ToT gets overridden!! By a triangle head! And ol creep in the deep is the one who releases the statue! It's been what 20k years of power and worship - if she's not all powerful then she never will be.

Hyrule - every hyrule - is very, very polytheistic. She's not even a goddess of time to be in charge of stuff like that! There's multiple of them: Naryu, Cia (and Lana), Farosh to an extent, and many artifacts that can cause time travel, like the harp of ages, the ocarina, the big portal in ss, those time shift stones in the same game, the statue in wind waker. Please stop treating her like the magic elf equivalent of Monotheistic American Christianity God.

She was introduced in skyward sword. The game that came out before botw. She did not exist in any of the games that came before that. There was a lake hylia! In the kingdom hyrule! That's it! Her name or even existence wasn't even hinted at before that. It's actually canonically pretty unlikely any of the chain (cough cough legend) have even heard of her! And her assigned job is protector of the triforce. That's it. And she can't even use the thing. She can very explicitly as a main driving force of the ss plot not use the triforce she protects. And the triforce, shockingly, is not even in every game.

Cases that hylia often gets the most flack for (links awakening and all the trauma from that, Link failing in botw, the events of totk) hylia has absolutely zero part in. Hilariously. And she has zero power over wishes made to the triforce or who makes those wishes or what the triforce does about it.

She even gets all the blame for the cycle of the hero, the reincarnation! Which? We know exactly how that happened. Blaming her for a curse she herself is a victim to?? Demise, in skyward sword, explicitly, on screen, doing it ON PURPOSE, cursing the spirit of the hero and the blood of the goddess.

Hylia, I don't know if you've noticed, also has her own blood. Whether or not she lost that blood upon return to her divine form, she still couldn't break the curse. Link, spirit now tied to whatever demise had cooking up, is basically to reincarnate in time for whenever the Interesting Times happen. And it's demise's fault, who, again, did it on screen, on purpose, explicitly, pointing at the camera with text bolded and everything.

So why do people even blame her? I think it comes down to this:

Her name matches the kingdom. Whatever her connection to the people with the same name, I don't know, but she did found the surface kingdom as a mortal. Being named zelda at the time I wonder who chose the name XD!

Her worship in botk as a high ranking deity. Again, not monotheistic, there's temples to the Three and there's Malanya and Satori and the great fairies and the yiga worship ganon, but hylia is the most widespread for all she's basically a side character working for the new heart piece situation. Again, this is only the case in ss/botk, she doesn't appear in even aoc.

A misguided belief spread in fanfiction that in linked universe, hylia is the one opening and controlling the portals. To my knowledge, lu canon is that the portals are opened by dark link, or at least that's the working theory. I think it's assumed that hylia is the one who gathered the heroes together to combat it? If that's true? Congratulations! We have one (very plot necessary) act of hers in a fan comic. That is not canon to The Legend Of Zelda series.

An american Christian (I hesitate to say evangelican?) cultural understanding of religion. The differences between polytheism and monotheism. How one might feel if the divine was proven real on earth. Zelda is a Japanese property, it is not a Christian country. Though it draws aesthetic inspiration from western medieval fantasy it is not and never will be culturally western. The majority of ao3/tumblr users are American or at least English speaking, and that will always affect interpretation. It's giving 'be thankful to God no matter what for he always has a plan. Trust in him and your suffering will be rewarded' which is not a universal religious belief.

Something I've noticed to be surprisingly common in fandom, is where a mentor or figure of authority who is anything less than perfect or all forgiving can very quickly have their reputation ripped to shreds by the fandom. And then newer authors come, read those works, internalise that about the characters and produce new works that assume that character's cruelty to be par for the course. I will not be listing those characters or fandoms for a variety of reasons lol. But it is amazingly common and very hard to untangle, especially in larger fandoms. It's character bashing in a way near identical to cancelling people irl. It's not 'giving them depth' or 'making it more realistic' (grittier equalling realism is an ice cold take proliferated by dudebro comic authors and wrong besides.) Have some critical thinking.

Lately, I've also been running into a great many fics (not so much comics) that make hylia do some fairly heinous stuff... And then unironically blame her for it. They do remember they're the ones deciding what the characters do, right? She's not an abusive master playing with her puppets until they break, she's quite the opposite! Use the right tags (dark hylia/ooc characters/character bashing/author made them do it, idk) or dial it back. This is a growing percentage of fics and I'll never restrict content but yanno, if you're going to make hylia evil or manipulative at least understand it's a canon deviation (and do something interesting with it, I once read an amazing botw fic with evil hylia and fierce deity!).

TLDR, To summarise, hylia is canonically incapable both emotionally and physically of doing the majority of things characters in fics blame her for. Stop using her as a scapegoat especially when demise is right there. Please give your whumpees deeper characterisation than hating on hylia. Please give legend deeper characterisation than hating on hylia every time he or someone else is sad. Please remember wild can talk to hylia if he wants. Please double check anything you're not sure about :D!

[the-bi-space-ace]

Okay I’m going to talk about cutting off Crosshair’s hand because while I know plenty of people see a lot of symbolism in it and think it was a good decision I have things to say about it.

I have CPTSD which has a lot of different symptoms. One of them is trembling or shaking. There’s a lot of complexities tied up in it but I’m not going to go into more detail because it’s not a fun thing to talk about.

What I liked about Crosshair’s trauma was that it impacted him not only mentally and emotionally but also physically. It’s very representative of what it’s actually like dealing with symptoms from something like PTSD and CPTSD (there are differences between these two that I won’t go into rn). I loved that we got to see a physical symptom of something psychological. It’s so rare that it’s handled well. Because yeah meditation and safety will help, certainly, but oftentimes it’s not the end all be all. I’m safe. I’m protected. I take care of my mental well being. But I still have symptoms that say the opposite. Because it’s not as simple as ‘no longer in the bad situation therefore the symptoms will stop’. I’ve made my peace that it’s lifelong and, honestly, Crosshair’s symptoms would be lifelong as well.

Cutting off his hand…

Here’s the thing.

The show really makes it seem like cutting off his hand is something he needed to move forward. He needed to be rid of the symptom because it was a physical reminder and it was holding him back from moving on. Cutting off the hand means no more shaking which means he’s healed. No more shaking hand=no more trauma. He can finally move on with his life.

And to that I say ouch.

There’s been plenty of times my symptoms are inconvenient to myself or others. Times when I wish I could just make it stop. Times when I’m terrified that it’s holding me back and I’m screwed up and that’s all I’ll ever be: broken. There are plenty of times I know people wish i could just knock it off and get over it and cut it out but that’s not how it works. Like I said. I’ve made peace with this thing that’ll be with me forever.

It was refreshing to see him try to adapt to dealing with it instead of ignoring it or trying to get rid of the part of him that was hurting. I loved that. It was such a freeing thing to see. Someone who will live with the hurt and the symptoms and it doesn’t make him any less. It just makes him have to do life a little different.

I hate that they cut off his hand. I hate that it wasn’t handled with any sort of nuance or delicacy. And I hate that this thing that made me so proud of him, so proud to share something with him, just got cut off for… what? Shock? To ‘fix’ him?

If we had gotten more time with the loss of his hand maybe I’d feel differently. Hell, I’d love to see how Crosshair adapts to losing his hand, see how he learns to accommodate. It would give him and Echo something to bond over and talk about, finding healing with each other. I think this could’ve been done well. I’d still be on the fence about it but I would’ve held my breath and saw how it played out.

I fully expect people to roll their eyes at me here. I expect that people will say that I just don’t get it or that this isn’t what they intended. I’m sure this isn’t what they intended. At least I hope it isn’t. But what they intended doesn’t change how insensitively this was handled after a whole season of him unpacking his hurt and trying to learn to adapt to it. No one reacted to it, not even Crosshair, and we got no unpacking of what happened. I’m not happy with this but it is what it is I guess.

[kyemna]

Alastor with a non-biological teenager who died in the 80's

This is kind of based on some headcanons I posted earlier. I wanted to include some in the story, so here it is!

Again, i made him a softy here, don't come for my throat😞

I apologize if there are any grammar mistakes.

TW: Mentions of death

It was strange, dying. Apparently there's a whole process that happens after..

Standing in Hell when you 'wake up'..

Processing, and finding a place to live.

Getting kicked out of that place, because they find out you lied about your age, and now living on the streets.

A girl finding out you live on the streets, and you discovering she's the Princess of Hell.

She invites you to stay at her hotel, rent free, but in exchange, you have to rehabilitate. Okay, do-able right? Wrong.

Finding out the radio demon stays at that EXACT Hotel.

The demon you wanted to avoid the most.

Sighing and accepting the fact that your stuck with him.

So, there you were. A 16 year old, standing in the door opening of the hotel, ready to be Rehabilitated.

Charlie, the girl you met on the streets, walks up to you and shakes your hand enthusiasticly.

"Welcome (y/n)!! We're so happy to have you here!" She smiles widely.

You awkwardly smile back at her.

"Thanks for taking me in.. i really do appreciate it."

"Ofcourse, it's no problem. We need more guests here anyways so, your helping me out more than your aware." She drags you inside the hotel, introducing you to the staff.

"Everyone this is (y/n), our first ever teenager at the Hotel! (y/n), this is, Vaggie, Husk, Angel Dust, Nifty, Sir Pentious, and Alastor"

You looked at everyone taking in their appearances and names.

You make eye contact with Alastor, his usual grin widens, as he tilts his head a little to the left.

"Nice.. to meet you all." You smile a little.

Alastor spoke. "So, how old are you, dear?"

Taken off-guard by him actually speaking to you, you answer.

"16."

"When did you die?" Angel dust asks.

"1983" you answer, again.

Angel whistles.

"How did you die?" He asks.

You stayed quiet for a moment.

"I drowned." Your grip on your bag tightens.

"Charlie, can you show me to my room, please? I need some time to... take it all in"

She nods, leading you upstairs.

Alastors gaze follows you.

"Wow, well done Angel. Asking a teenager how they died. real smooth." Vaggie says.

"How was I supposed to know it would upset them?"

"I don't know.. common sense?"

He rolls his eyes.

Charlie opens the door to your room, as you both step in.

"Take your time to get settled in, there's no hurry. Breakfast is at 8:30, lunch at 12:00 and dinner at 18:00 (6:00). There's also a meeting tommorow morning at 10 but you don't have to come to that if you don't want to." She smiles, leaving your room.

You sigh, and plop down on your bed.

You turn to your left, being met by Alastor staring at you.

You scream, rolling off the bed.

"What the hell, Alastor?" You say, loudly.

"My apologies, dear. I just noticed something was wrong when you spoke about the way you died. Now, i'm no therapist, but I am a good listener.

Would you like to talk about it?"

You inhaled sharply

"What's there to say? I was fighting somebody off near a pool. I killed his friend. He pushed me in, and he drowned me. That's all there is."

He hummed as you stand back up, and start unpacking.

"Did you know him?"

"Not really.. I went to school with him but that's all." He nods, as he stands up, taking the shirt you had in your hands, and folding it properly for you.

"If you need a hand with anything, just ask" He says, leaving your room.

The next morning you wake up at 7:00 am.

You sit up, as you heard a knock on your door.

"Come in" you say, yawning.

Alastor opens, enters, and closes the door.

"Charlie asked me to help you get settled i-" He stops and looks at you, noticing your hair. "-in." He stays silent for a moment before speaking again.

"My goodness, you look an absolute mess, dear."

You roll your eyes, laying back down.

He walks towards the curtains and opens them, light cutting off your vision for a few seconds. You groan.

"Time to get up, we have a trip to make." He lays an outfit on the end of your bed.

"Meet me downstairs in 15 minutes."

He exits your room again.

"Strange guy" you mumble, getting out of bed.

"And make your bed!" he says loudly from the hall.

"Okay, dad" you yell back, sarcastically. That came out quicker than you wanted it to. You hoped he didn't hear it. With no response, you assumed he didn't.

You get dressed, brush your teeth, do your hair, and all in a hurry since you only had 15 minutes.

You run downstairs, noticing yourself in the mirror. Your wearing a white button-up shirt, with a dark blue skirt that reaches to your calfs, a pair of low black heels and a black hat, with lace. Not to big.

You weren't used to dressing so.. conservative.

Alastor was already waiting at the door.

"17 minutes. your late."

"Oh, whatever. It's only two minutes."

You say, straighting your skirt, hearing a quick static sound of irritation.

He sighs and opens the door for you.

"Thank you." You step outside, the cold wind hitting your skin, as you breathed it in.

You two were walking in silence when Alastor spoke.

"We'll be going to Cannibal town, where we'll be meeting a friend of mine. I need to ask a favour of her, and I wanted you to tag along, so you could get accustomed to Hell."

"What kind of favour?" You asked, looking up at him.

"I'm afraid that's none of your concern, dear."

You hummed in response, looking around, trying to memorize some of the streets.

"Alastor, when were you born?" You ask.

"1893, January 1st. Why do you ask?"

You whistle, a little surprised.

"No reason, just curious.."

You guys arrived at Cannibal town.

Everyone looked so old fashioned.

You realised why Alastor picked this outfit for you. You blend right in.

You two enter a small communal building.

He waves at a woman.

"Oh my stars. Do my eyes deceive me? Alastor, it's been ages!" She walks up to us, kissing him on the cheek.

"And who's this? Come now Alastor, she's much to young for you. I'm just kidding, I know your an ace in the hole." you snicker.

"A what now?" He asked, confused.

"I think she means ase-sexual, Alastor."

"Yes, that!" The woman says, snapping her fingers.

"I'm Rosie, dear. What's your name?" She smiles.

"I'm (y/n), ma'am, nice to meet you."

She gasps softly, laying her hand on her chest.

"A pleasure meeting you, dear. So polite. Alastor you could learn a thing or two from her." She says, laying her hand on your shoulder and taking us to a table.

You wiggle your eyebrows at Alastor, grinning. He rolls his eyes.

"So what can I do for you two?" She asked.

"It's better I discuss this with you privately, Rosie." Alastor says.

She nods, turning to me.

"You can wait here, Dear. We'll be right back" she smiles, as they enter her office.

An hour later, they came back out, laughing.

"Sorry it took so long, we got a little carried away" Rosie apologized.

"It's okay" you said, standing up.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Rosie."

Alastor thanked her.

She waved it away.

"No need to thank me, Al. It's always a pleasure having you around. See you next time!"

We both smiled at her as we left.

"So.." i started. "What did you two talk about..?"

He raised his eyebrow.

"I'm still not telling you."

You shrug. "Worth a shot"

You two got back to the Hotel, and had dinner with the rest of the staff.

At 23:00 (11:00) you stumbled upstairs, exhausted from your long day.

You opened the door to your room, and kicked off your shoes, falling onto your bed, immediately dozing off.

Alastor entered your room, about to say something, when he noticed you were asleep. He sighed softly, walking over to you. He gently picked you up, laying your head on your pillow and tucking you in.

Maybe this wasn't so bad after all...

Thank you for reading!

[nameless-jamie]

I love the PA series!! So so good! The dynamic between them <3 if you ever write more of them, I’d love to see your take on a role reversal type of situation where Jamie has to help his PA (maybe she’s having a bad day or something like that).

Thank you for all your writing <3 and hope your week is going okay!

Tissues and Tea

Masterlist

Jamie Tartt x fem! PA reader

TW: cursing, flirting

A/N: Hello! Thank you for this great request. I hope you like what I made out of it. I'm doing fine, I hope you have a great rest of the week and enjoy your reading. <3

Y/N should’ve stayed home. She knows that.

But the thought of leaving Jamie Tartt to his own devices for a full day? Unsupervised? With a match coming up and at least three emails that need responses before noon? Absolutely not.

So here she is, standing outside his house, sniffling, a little wobbly on her feet, but determined. Her usual pencil skirt and blouse combo were exchanged for some jeans and a loose hoodie. She rings the doorbell and barely has time to brace herself before Jamie swings the door open, wearing—of course—nothing but gray sweatpants and a cocky grin.

"Ew, you look like death."

"Good morning to you too," she grumbles, brushing past him into the warmth of his house.

Jamie shuts the door behind her, frowning. "Nah, for real. Why d’you sound like a ninety-year-old chain-smoker?"

She ignores him, heading straight to the kitchen counter where she usually sets up her laptop. "I’m fine. Just a little cold."

Jamie narrows his eyes, watching as she unpacks her work things with shaky hands. "Right," he drawls. "And I’m fuckin’ Cristiano Ronaldo."

She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. Her head was throbbing and she could not take any banter today. "Jamie, I’m fine."

"You’re not fine," he counters, stepping closer. "You look like you’re gonna pass out. Actually—" He pokes her arm and she loses her balance a little. "—yeah, that’s definitely wobbly behavior, love."

She swats his hand away. "I just need to get through the day, then I’ll rest."

Jamie scoffs. "Yeah, not happening." Before she can argue, he grabs her laptop and walks off with it.

"Jamie—what the hell?!" she croaks, chasing after him.

"Oi, don’t strain yourself," he teases, holding it above his head like a schoolboy dodging a playground fight. "You’re sick. Ya need to rest. And lucky for you, I’m a proper gentleman, so I’m gonna look after ya today. Call me your personal assistant."

She blinks. "You? Taking care of me?"

Jamie gasps, mock-offended. "What, ya don’t trust me?"

"Not even a little bit."

"Rude," he mutters, placing her laptop high up on a shelf, far out of her reach. He puts his hands on her shoulders and shoves her towards the living room "Now, let’s get ya on the couch, yeah?"

She knows she should fight this, but honestly? Standing for this long is exhausting. And Jamie's 50.000-pound-couch looked comfy ass hell. So, reluctantly, she lets him guide her to the couch, where he throws a ridiculously big fluffy blanket over her.

"There," he says, hands on his hips. "All cozy. Like a little babeh."

"I can’t move," she deadpans, buried under the weight of the blanket.

"Exactly." he pulls the finger-guns at her.

She glares at him, but Jamie just grins.

A beat of silence, then—

"Want some tea?"

She exhales. "That would be nice, actually."

Jamie beams, disappearing into the kitchen. A minute later, she hears cabinets slamming, the sink running, and Jamie muttering "fuckin’ hell, where’s the sugar?" under his breath.

"It's in the second cupboard on the left," Y/N shouted as loud as her croaky voice let her.

"Got it!"

When he returns, he hands her a mug with the smuggest expression. "There ya go, love. My specialty."

She takes a sip—and immediately grimaces. "Jamie."

"What?"

"This is just hot sugar water."

He frowns. "Nah, it’s tea."

"The teabag is what makes it tea..." she narrows his eyes at him. "Let me guess, you don't know where the teabags are?"

"I could put some leaves from my kitchen plant in there. Same thing, innit?" he scratches his neck embarrassed.

She sighs, setting it down. "You’re lucky I’m too weak to fight you right now."

Jamie plops down next to her, looking way too pleased with himself. "You are lucky, actually. Not everyone gets personal Jamie Tartt care."

She gives him a tired, but teasing look. "Oh, so this is an exclusive service? Where do I complain? Is there like a hotline or..."

"Hey don't get sassy with me, you booked the VIP package. Special treatment. No refunds." He smirks, then leans in a little. "Want me to tuck ya in?"

"Jamie."

"I’ll do it proper, promise. Maybe even sing ya a lullaby."

"Jamie."

His smirk widens. "Or, if ya prefer, I could be your personal hot water bottle. Y’know, for extra warmth."

"Jamie."

"What? No cuddlin' ?"

She rolls her eyes, but her lips twitch—because despite everything, he is making her feel better.

He watches her for a moment, his teasing expression softening just a little. Then, without thinking, he reaches out and tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"Y’know," he says quietly, thumb brushing against her temple, "you spend so much time lookin’ after me. Someone’s gotta return the favor, yeah?"

Her breath catches.

It’s the kind of moment she’s always tried to ignore—the kind where Jamie isn’t just the flirty, cocky footballer she works for, but something more. Someone who cares about her. Someone who, if she let herself believe it, might actually love her.

But she’s too tired to overthink it today.

So instead of pushing him away, she just leans into his already open arms, lets herself relax under the ridiculous blanket, and mutters, "Fine. But if you try to feed me soup, I’m leaving."

Jamie grins. "Nah, love. I’m terrible at soup."

And with that, he settles in beside her, her head on his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her. Y/n's silent snores fill the room and Jamie sighs satisfied. Yep, he's refusing to move from this position—ever again.

[notmeowse]

Solavellan ending and why I hate it

Major Veilguard endgame spoilers under the cut.

I beat the game two days ago and I haven't been able to stop thinking about that ending. I'm not going to get into the rest of the game's flaws. They've been covered at length. But all of those issues aside, the one perfect, untouchable thing I thought I had left as the game drew to a close was the Solavellan ending. After all, Trick wrote the original Solavellan romance and the incredible continuation of it in Trespasser. As lead writer, they were directly responsible for making it happen. I thought we had this in the bag.

So on one hand, my favorite Dragon Age romance finally reunited and disintegrated off into the sunset.

On the other hand, he did not choose her.

This is what ruined it for me. I know a lot of people have issues with her sacrificing her life to join him in the Fade, but that was really a secondary issue for me.

What was the point of their entire relationship if, in the end, when it REALLY counted, he was never going to choose Lavellan over tearing down the Veil? Why did it take Mythal, who he actually killed in the last game in order to take her power, to convince him? Where's the romance in that?

This literally just turned into the story of Lavellan and the elven god who did not love her enough.

Okay, yes, the gamified reason it takes Mythal to convince him is because Lavellan was tacked onto an existing avenue of dealing with Solas rather than being given her own separate option, right? At the end of the game you have the choice to either fight him, trick him, or (if the Mythal-related criteria is met) invoke the essence of Mythal contained in the statue. No Bring Out The Big Guns, Lavellan option.

In my opinion, she should have been the fourth option, only available to players that have an Inquisitor that romanced Solas and encouraged Lavellan to reunite with him mid-game. It would have required about as much effort to do this as it did to have him turn her down once again (which, I maintain defeats the entire purpose of the story being told here). That would have been the absolute easiest fix to this fucking mess.

I understand why Lavellan wasn't counted among his regrets and therefore wasn't in the Lighthouse murals (because he doesn't actually regret falling in love with her) and I acknowledge that getting real closure from Mythal is important to Solas's story, and that it did have its place in that ending scene. Whether she was a lover or a mother to him isn't really the issue here -- it's the fact that she holds sway over him where Lavellan apparently does not. Despite the fact that, again, he killed Mythal in the previous game, despite the fact that he couldn't bring himself to kill the Inquisitor for the anchor, despite the fact that Lavellan was the one single thing in the world that made him really want to walk away from his plans.

(Why wasn't the "I release you from my service" a conversation had between him and Flemythal back in Inquisition? And why is that essence of Flemythal (who now exists in Morrigan) suddenly so chill and pro-Veil? Do we not remember the reckoning that will shake the very heavens? The She was betrayed as I was betrayed, as the world was betrayed? I will see her avenged? No payoff? None? There's so much wrong and bad writing to unpack there, but this is still a Solavellan post.)

Back to him wanting to turn away from his grand plan. The fundamental difference between Mythal and Lavellan, in my opinion, is the way each of them saw him. Mythal asked him to change for her, to leave the Fade, to commit atrocities with her out of love and service. Lavellan only ever loved him as a man, never once asking him to change for her, never asking him to be anything other than himself. In the time they were together, he was able to be the person he wanted to be. It took a very specific set of circumstances and a very specific person that had to fall into place for that romance to happen, which is arguably what made her so special, and what made their time together even more so. It followed, especially with what we know now, that he would want to drop his grand plan to be with her.

In comes Veilguard, which introduced a parallel between Solas/Mythal and Solavellan. In the second memory, we discover that Mythal never once chose Solas over her duty to elvhenan (even when he begged her to lay it down and run away with him) and dragged him along with her to commit unspeakable atrocities (in her words, she broke him). Solas (at that point in the game, when we were witnessing the memories) had yet to choose Lavellan over his crusade, but quite literally loved her too much to bring her along with him. He would not let her do that to herself, he would not do to her what Mythal did to him.

Here's where I feel like I'm losing my mind, because I thought the point of that mural was to foreshadow him eventually choosing Lavellan, as he is very much not Mythal, and is very much looking for a reason to lay it down, to be proven wrong. I also thought the blurb in the Inquisitor character creation menu (who did you romance) was foreshadowing it, as well as the mid-game choice Rook can make to encourage her to reunite with him and change his heart.

So why didn't it happen? I can only assume because they didn't actually want to have any of our choices carry over, let alone the Solavellan option (which they should have realized from the start was a bad call and also fucking impossible to manage given that the game is a direct sequel to Inquisition). The fact that Lavellan is tacked onto an already existing scene rather than being given her own is evidence of this. However, even if she had to be tacked onto the Mythal scene and not given her own, a simple reordering of the events would have fixed the fucking ending. So it could have gone two (very easily manageable and not too much extra) ways:

Remove the part where he turns her down. Remove the entire thing. Morrimythal could have flown up to him before the Inquisitor even arrived on scene, we could have had our statue moment, and just when he thinks he's going to be all alone behind the Veil, Lavellan shows up, they reunite, and she goes with him. (Easiest way for Bioware to fix it imo)

Lav acts as the ace up our sleeve, a fourth option (and a second option to make him lay it down) instead of using the statue to redeem him. Mythal releases him from her service AFTER he chooses Lavellan, thereby releasing him from his guilt over her. I prefer this one. It should have been this. They could have walked away, they could have tied themselves to the Veil, either way works.

Now, I am among those that think the Veil should have come down, which would have rendered this entire thing moot, had it happened. But since Bioware is dead-set on maintaining the status quo in Thedas, it should have been this instead.

In writing this I wonder if I've been completely delusional over their relationship, but going by the reactions to this ending, it seems that what we got was not at all expected.

[willowser]

HI WILLOWWWWW

do you think you’d ever have to have a sit down discussion with katsuki about how to discipline your children? early on? it’s mentioned in the anime that he was spanked as a kid and thinks it’s fine bc it happened to him in the provisional license training, they go against it anyway but i was curious about your thoughts on if a discussion like that would happen?

HIIIIII FREN 😌🩷✨️

this is actually such an interesting question !!! 🤔 bc i feel like there is so much to unpack here LOL

but but but !!!! to make a long topic shorter i will say !! yes, i think the conversation comes up only once, and he brings it up himself. it's pretty early on, i think, before you even know what you're having and it happens very suddenly, maybe when you're laying in bed and not quite asleep, but eyes closed, lights off.

and he just says, voice firm and strong. "i ain't hittin' my kid."

it hangs in silence for a minute, heavy and serious, before you sit up a little to look at him. you frown just slightly, and you can't tell if it's because you're tired or if it's just too early into the pregnancy that you hadn't even started thinking about discipline, but you ask, "what, honey?"

he's sitting up with his back against the headboard, already watching you intently. it takes another moment for him to gather his words, but eventually he sighs and shifts his gaze to your ceiling. "i didn't have no...fuckin'....'time out' or 'sit in the corner and think about you did' kind of thing, but," he raises a hand and rubs his fingers into his eyes and you wonder how long he's been sitting there, thinking about this. "i'm not hittin' 'em."

it seems like such haunting topic, so suddenly—any kind of connection of harm against your growing little bean—and you almost want to press katsuki for why he's bringing this up, now, but—there's a severity to his voice that warns you otherwise.

instead you roll over in the bed until your head is resting against his shoulder, and rub a hand across his chest until he's linking his fingers with yours. "okay, yeah," you agree simply, smooshing your cheek against him. "yeah, no hitting." when he doesn't react, you squeeze him. "y'okay?"

"'s'fine," he tells you—immediately, dismissively, in that way he does when you're looking too closely at something he's not quite ready to share. when you don't react, he turns his face and presses his mouth into your hair, taking a breath to steady himself. "'s'fine," he says again, softly enough that you think it might not be, really—but maybe someday.

[engie-ivy]

I wrote a follow-up to my previous microfic to turn the break-up fic into a Break-Up, and Make-Up?, fic!

1576 words

Remus and Sirius went from being close friends, to dating, to being friends again. Difficult as that may be, outwardly, they seem to be doing great...

Regrets & Mistakes

“Because she's my best friend!”

“That's all the more reason to tell her!” Lily argues, as she stands in front of the couch Marlene is curled up on. “You know what a good fit you are, you know how well you get on, you know Dorcas is not the kind of person to ever mock you for it, even if she doesn't feel the same,” Lily starts listing off as she paces up and down. “And if she does feel the same, you'll have this great foundation of friendship to build a relationship upon, and you'll have-”

“So much to lose!” Marlene interjects. “Lily,” she sighs, letting herself fall on her back on the couch. “Dorcas is my best friend, one of the most important people in my life. If she doesn't feel the same… Hell, even if she does feel the same, but we somehow muck it up, there's no coming back from that. We'll be forever changed, never the way we were.” Marlene shakes her head. “I don't think I'm willing to risk that.”

“Marls, do you know how many assumptions you are making?” Lily asks. “That it's bound to go up in smoke, for starters. But even if that happens, that doesn't have to permanently damage your friendship.”

Marlene gives her a skeptical look. “How on earth could that not affect a friendship?”

“Remus!” Lily suddenly exclaims, and Remus gives a start, almost dropping the piece of chocolate he was about to eat from the pile they had brought to cheer up Marlene (and if she's not eating it, someone's gotta).

“What?” he asks.

“You and Sirius were best friends,” Lily states. “Then you got together, dated for a while, broke up, and now you're still close friends.”

Remus nods.

“So it's possible!” Lily exclaims. “It's possible to go through a breakup and still be best friends after! Tell Marlene it's possible! Tell her that even the worst-case-scenario doesn't have to be so bad!”

Remus turns to Marlene. “It's not so bad,” he says dutifully.

Lily smiles triumphantly, but Remus continues. “At least, if you don't mind being constantly reminded of the worst mistake you ever made and seeing every single day how you let the best thing that ever happened to you get away, that is.”

"Okay," Lily says slowly. “Let's unpack that-” she gestures towards Remus as a whole “-later. We're now focusing on Marlene's issues.”

“Nope,” Marlene says, picking up a pillow and hiding her face underneath. “Absolutely not. I'm never ever telling her about my feelings now.”

“Here you are.”

Remus slides into the seat across from Sirius, who's drinking his coffee in a coffeeshop different from where they normally go.

“Oh,” Sirius looks startled. “Ehm, I was actually just going to…”

“Avoid me,” Remus states, crossing his arms over his chest.

An angry look passes over Sirius’ face. “Well, I thought you might want some time apart from me.”

“Want time apart from you?” Remus repeats, non-understanding . He's never wanted time apart from Sirius. Even when Sirius had been so intense that Remus had doubted he would ever be able to give Sirius what he needed, and in his anxiety decided to just end things before he would inevitably disappoint him, even when the wound was still so fresh and seeing Sirius made it bleed all over again, even then, Remus had not wanted time apart from Sirius. The pain of seeing Sirius simply wasn't as bad as having to miss Sirius. “Why would I want time apart from you?”

Sirius shrugs, trying to look casual, but Remus can see the tension set in his shoulders. “I dunno. Can't imagine it's very fun to be constantly reminded of ‘the worst mistake you ever made’.”

“Ah,” Remus says, finally understanding what all this is about. “You heard about that.” He still wonders what exactly Sirius is so miffed about. That he talked about their previous relationship behind his back? That he hasn't been honest to him about how hung up he still is on him? Or just the fact alone that he is still hung up on him?

Sirius averts his eyes. “I heard Lily and Marlene talk about how that's what you said.”

“I'm sorry,” Remus says. “I shouldn't have talked about our relationship behind your back.”

Sirius’ eyes snap up to Remus’ face. “It's not that you talked, Remus, it's how you talked! A mistake? Like it's something you regret?”

So it is the fact that he regrets the breakup itself that Sirius is angry about. Honestly, Remus can sort of understand. After all, salvaging their friendship afterwards had been hard, even seemed impossible at times, but they managed. And now, when they have finally established some sort of normalcy between them again, Remus suddenly goes and brings up these lingering feelings.

But even though it took Remus a while to admit to himself that breaking up with Sirius had been a mistake, he's never been particularly happy about the breakup, so it really shouldn't affect how things are between them that much.

“It doesn't have to change anything.”

“How can you say that?” Sirius replies. “How can the knowledge that you consider something that still means so much to me a mistake not change anything?” He shakes his head. “You broke my heart, Remus, you know that.” He's simply stating a fact, which supposedly it is. “And yes, sometimes when I look at you, I still feel so much that I wish I could rip my heart out just to stop it from hurting. But when I recall our time together, I recall falling asleep in your sweater with my head in your lap, dancing to our favourite songs in the living room, wrapping my arms around you from behind as you're making your morning tea. Despite the pain, I would not, I could not, call it a mistake.”

Oh.

With Sirius overhearing Lily and Marlene talk about what Remus said, something clearly got lost in translation. Sirius does not know Remus was referring to the breakup being the worst mistake he ever made, not the relationship itself, not Sirius himself.

“So yeah,” Sirius says eventually, his cheeks slightly colouring, as Remus, still processing this new knowledge, stays quiet. “I figured some space would be good.”

There are so many things Remus wants to say all at once, he doesn't know where to start. “I don't want space,” he begins.

“Well, maybe I do!” Sirius snaps. “Damn you, Remus. How much hurt do you think I can take?” He pushes his chair back and gets to his feet. “I care so bloody much about you, you could basically stab me and I would still love you, but I do have a limit, and after being blindsided with the breakup and now you telling people us dating was a mistake, I think I've reached that limit.”

Before Remus can say anything, Sirius turns on his heels and leaves the coffeeshop.

Emotions are swirling through Remus’ body. Sadness and guilt for how much he has hurt Sirius, of course, but also, perhaps misplaced, hope.

‘I still feel so much’

‘I care so bloody much about you’

‘I would still love you’

Maybe the chapter isn't fully closed yet for Sirius either?

Remus jumps to his feet to follow Sirius, but then he realizes they haven't paid for the coffee yet, and he frantically starts patting his pockets for some cash.

“Oh, just leave it!” A voice says from behind, and Remus turns to find the waitress standing there, with her hands on her hips. “Just go! Go after your man! Go!”

Mumbling a quick ‘thank you’ Remus rushes out of the coffeeshop.

“Sirius, wait!”

Remus grabs Sirius’ elbow, and Sirius stops, sighs, and turns around to face him.

“I don't think of you as a mistake,” Remus says. “It's not dating you that I see as the worst mistake of my life, it's breaking up with you.”

Sirius’ eyes widen and his mouth opens in a silent ‘oh’, and, slightly encouraged, Remus takes a step closer to him.

“Sirius,” Remus says softly. “I regret being a cowardly idiot and giving into my fears by breaking up with you before I could somehow mess it up, but I do not, and will never, regret having been with you.” Without thinking, he places a hand on Sirius’ cheek. “I do not regret falling in love with you, and I do not even regret loving you still.”

Sirius blinks at him. “You… You still…”

“Yes.” Remus leans in just a bit and briefly presses his lips to Sirius’.

Like coming home.

Sirius opens and closes his mouth a couple of times before saying “I… I can't get my hopes up if you'll just run the moment things get too real.”

“I won't,” Remus immediately says. “I've learned my lesson, and I will not hurt you again. I hate that I hurt you in the first place, and I will spend the rest of my life trying to make up for that, if you let me. No, scratch that,” he shakes his head. “I'll do that anyway. How I'll do that, that is up to you.”

Sirius hesitates for a moment. “I guess you can make it up to me…” He says, slowly reaching out and placing his hand over Remus’. “By being the best boyfriend I could possibly wish for.”

A smile breaks out on Remus’ face. “You got it, love.”

[nicoleanell]

Still on my kick of meta-ing about IWTV season 2 a few months too late. LOUMAND FIGHT TIME. I gotta be sad about something real quick.

There's definitely a thing in the Armand-apologist side of fandom (the street where I live) where it's often brought up that nothing Armand says in that argument is quite as vile and monstrous as the "groomed me into a little bitch" line. My obligatory disclaimer IN FAIRNESS TO LOUIS: (a) it's certainly not a one-sided fight and they do both get some very ugly hits in, (b) Armand was the sober one (I don't actually think that's much of an excuse but worth pointing out he immediately forgot what happened and apologized even BEFORE any mind-meddling), and (c) holy shit the rest of the episode exists and nothing that preceded Louis' suicide attempt was a justification for the way Armand reacted after it. Cool? Cool.

But still - yeah. That line is gross and extremely Not funny to me. It crosses such a huge line so fast there's almost nothing either of them could say to de-escalate from that. (In fact I'd argue it crosses a line FOR THE AUDIENCE more than it even registers as that bad to Armand, which in itself is kinda sad. Like… his instinct in that moment is laughing and throwing trauma insults back in a stupid Southern accent. He was - I cannot stress this enough - more upset by being called boring.)

I think there's something interesting about the fact that in universe the way Armand responds by mocking Louis' brother's suicide is just as horrible - because Paul's death is meant to be something that was formatively traumatic and life-changing for Louis - but I'm not sure that it fully hits the audience as viscerally terrible on the same level as making fun of Armand being raped by his daddy-vampire and others as. a. child.

But anyway, with the understanding no one came out taking the high road there... the thing that actually kills me about that exchange is we KNOW in that moment, watching them hurl these horrible horrible words at each other: these are things they opened up to each other about in the past. These are things they told each other. They've been together for decades already. This isn't a "digging into your head and pulling stuff out" kind of thing, like some fuckin' Daniel or whatever. This isn't common knowledge of their backstories just because the audience knows it already. They're both acting like "this is a thing you whine about all the time" when they've whined about it to vanishingly few people in the world, actually!!

Armand brings up Paul and Grace because Louis has talked about them, and he listened. Louis has told him about watching Paul step off the roof, about Grace at the cemetary. And Armand told Louis everything about Marius, and Louis filed that away in his brain with some extra words that Armand didn't use. At one point or another, they both unpacked the heaviest shit that ever happened to them and said "have this, I think it's why I am the way I am", they shared these things with each other in moments of intimacy and vulnerability and said "don't hurt me with this, obviously, okay?" And now they're here, unloading it all back onto each other as mockery. Yeah, I've heard you say all that stuff about your damage, and it's fucking pathetic and hilarious actually. It's not just like "I'm trying to hurt you by bringing this up", it's also "you've always sounded ridiculous to me when you talked about this stuff, you know that, right? I pretended to feel bad for you and I truly could not care less."

Like one of the reasons I think that scene is so jaw-dropping is there's so much intimacy and familiarity with each other implied and also shattered by it. And man how DO you ever get back from that. I would start the memory-erasing from that moment forward for sure.