#and the school i got into is actually a family tradition so that's neat

[theduchessofnaxos]

So, admissions didn't exactly go the way I wanted - I am excited about the offer I got, and it's a great school that my professor wouldn't have recommended if he didn't think it was a good program. But I applied to a lot of the top-tier "name brand" programs - some of which I was really excited about - and the closest I got to them was one MA admission. And that's a little bit of a hard pill to swallow when you're a privileged fuck who's had your family talking about how you'll do great things your whole life.

Fast forward to today, I'm watching a movie where the main character doesn't get into the top school she applied to and has a hard time with it. Texted my friends to joke that watching this was a bad idea. And I get back "I'm watching [some guy]'s tour of England and he stops in Cambridge. I think it's just now sinking in." Because my friend got into an MPhil at Cambridge.

I love my friend. And obviously I don't want her to suppress her joy about her amazing accomplishment. But goddamn lady, have some tact? 😂

[constellationguy]

Another Perspective

Episode one

“Text”: regular talking

‘Text’: regular thinking

“Text”: Saiki talking telepathically

‘Text’: Saiki thinking

ATTENTION! You might want to rewatch episode one of The Disastrous Life of Saiki K before reading.

Summary: Episode 1 in L/N Y/N’s perspective.

It was a very normal day for Y/N L/N, school felt like forever and the only thing that got them through the day was the promise of an after school nap, they were now walking home to take said nap. Y/N was actually in a good mood when walking home, the weather was nice and cool and they knew they had cold water waiting for them in the fridge, the neighborhood was quiet, the perfect conditions for a nap.

They were in a great mood all the way up until they saw their neighbor sitting outside of his own house. Once they saw Mr. Saiki on his doorstep, they knew they weren’t going to have a really good afternoon. Y/N knew they should have greeted Mr. Saiki but ever since he and his wife started fighting it always felt so awkward to talk to either of them.

Y/N quietly walked past the Saiki residence to not catch Mr Saiki’s attention then quickly made it inside. Unfortunately the son of the Saiki family, Kusuo, also went to Y/N’s school so they knew he wasn’t to far behind them. As soon as they took their shoes off and put their school bag away they could hear their neighbors talking from outside the door and not to long after that the shouting started.

“Damn it. I just got home and the neighbors were already shouting.” All Y/N could do grumble and try not to focus on what their neighbors were saying, kinda hard when all they do nowadays was yell at each other. Y/N tried to push the thoughts of their neighbors to the back of their mind as they put on their headphones and started making dinner.

While making their dinner Y/N could barely hear their neighbors over their music, which sadly meant they were still shouting. But as soon as they sat down to eat the neighbors finally quieted and Y/N let out a sigh. ‘Finally quiet’ they thought. Y/N could finally relax and eat in peace. However as soon as they lifted up their fork to take another bite they heard loud glass shattering from next door.

“Okay, that’s it. I’m going to eat in my room.”

—————————————————————————

Today was the most boring day for 542 students of PK Academy, today was the day of orientation. It was tradition at PK Academy for the principal to make a speech for orientation day but as it always was, the speech was longwinded and boring.

Every single student had to stand in one large neat group while orientation droned on and on. ‘What I wouldn’t give to walk out right now’, the students thought collectively. Y/N thought the same until they saw movement a couple rows in front of them.

“Hey buddy,” it was just Nendo being Nendo, nothing to get too interested in Y/N thought before spacing out again to the voice of the principal. Not a minute later Y/N heard a thud that took them out of their thoughts.

“He passed out!” “Low blood sugar?”

“AAAAAA, what happened buddy are you alright?!” Nendo said as he started to shake the passed out kid.

‘This can’t be good’, thought Y/N. Since no one was really doing anything and was just watching Nendo make a fool of himself, Y/N got the attention of the closest teacher and pointed at Nendo punching whom they assumed was Takahashi.

“Nendo what do you think you’re doing?! Take him to the nurse” the random teacher said.

“Uh the nurse oh okay right!”, Nendo said sounding confused. “Hey Saiki, why don’t you go with the two of them, I don’t trust Nendo to find it.” After the teacher spoke, Y/N heard a little “damn it” from their neighbor Saiki. ‘Damn, I kinda wish I could also get out of this but keeping track of Nendo might be worse, sorry Kusuo’ thought Y/N. Not long after that Nendo put Takahashi’s arm over his shoulder and took him to the nurse’s office with Saiki following close behind.

After the three left, orientation continued like Takahashi passing out never happened. ‘And hell continues’ thought Y/N.

About ten minutes later Y/N heard an ambulance siren coming from the school’s entrance. ‘Oh shit! Takahashi must be in bad condition,’ Y/N thought worriedly. Not too long after that Y/N also heard a “You can beat this man!” from Nendo.

‘Hope they turn out okay,’ thought Y/N.

—————————————————————————

In room 2-3 Y/N sat quietly while observing their other classmates during break. People watching was what Y/N did when they didn’t have their headphones. Y/N wasn’t paying attention to any conversations in particular until someone in the back of the class said that a snake from the zoo was on the loose. Now that was an entertaining thing to talk about.

“Are you boys sure it escaped? An animal attack is just the sort of plan they’d come up with,” Kaido said with a superior tone, guess he was also eavesdropping.

“But fear not, I, the jet black wings, am never fooled by their evil deception. Someone must have set that snake free on purpose,”

‘Okay this is getting fun, I wish I had a snack right now. This feels like watching tv,’ Y/N thought while looking at the group of students no so suddenly.

“Hang on! You know the guy that did this Kaido?”

“Some wanna be super villain called the black wings”

“No I’m the jet back wings, the hero. The villain is a secret organization named Dark Reunion. And this escaped snake thing is the first step in their plot to sort man kind!”

“DARK REUNION!” a group of student shouted.

‘Okay this is the most entertaining thing I’ve seen in a while,” Y/N giggled.

“Who? Geez. Never heard of them.” The whole group said as they dispersed.

‘Damn, just when it was getting good,’ Y/N huffed at their entertainment coming to an end.

“Ah huh, once again the fate of the world has fallen into our super powered laps, eh Saiki?” Kaido said, still in his persona.

“Saiki, what’s your read? I don’t like this one bit. This snake which I’ve named “murder dragurom snake” is likely no ordinary snake!” “That’s quite the dramatic name,” Kusuo said quietly.

“It’s also likely that Dark Reunion genetically engineered murder dragurom sake, specifically kill people! We’re running out of time here Saiki. The world is counting on us to stop that slavering-

“Hey good news! They caught the snake!” Some random student shouted, again ruining Y/N’s entertainment found in Kaido.

“Well that’s a relief, where did they find it?

“At the school’s front gate, it was just kinda laying on the ground half dead.” Kaido perked up from his pouting state and then looked shocked while his inner monologue was clearly running.

“Kay why was it half dead?”

“Some first graders were whipping it around.”

“That’s one weak ass murder snake,” Kusuo said. ‘Okay now that’s funny,’ Y/N thought while trying not to laugh aloud.

“Sounds like we beat Dark Reunion this time.” “Be careful why you say! They’re an all powerful secret society. “Who knows what they’ll do to you when they sort man kind,” students said sarcastically and laughing.

“Heh, go ahead and laugh. This is the calm before the storm. Dark Reunion in coming, I tried to warn you all I swear.” The first half was in character and the second sounded as if he was gonna cry.

‘Damn that was harsh. Oh look, Kusuo must be getting up to comfort Kaido. What a good friend.” Thought Y/N.

“It’s like he’s in elementary school. One time he said there’s a monster in his arm. You guys it’s starting to take over my whole body!” The kids continued to mock. Then suddenly a snake fell out of the kid’s jacket arm. Then the class fell into chaos.

In the panic students were shouting and some students started to sit in their desks to get away from the snake on the floor. “What a bunch of dorks,” said Nendo not at all freaked out.

“Are your guys balls still attached?”

“Worry about yours!”

“Cause mine feel weird.”

“Well obviously they do! The snake’s on your crotch!”

“NENDO” the class shouted as Nendo seem to pass out while standing up then quickly falling to the floor dramatically.

“EVERYBODY GET DOWN, I’ll take care of this snake,” Kaido said confidently while getting in between the class and the snake.

“KAIDO WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!l

“Alright, murder dragurom snake it’s time you face me, the jet black wings! Let’s go,” then Kaido make an anime esc pose.

“So we’re having a fake super hero face a real poisonous snake now?”

When the snake started to slither towards a girl, Kaido blocked the snakes path. “Take this! JUDGMENT NIGHT SON-” FLASH. The snake was being electrocuted!

“YAAAAA” the class erupted in celebration while Kaido looked confused then in awe of himself.

‘Holy shit. Are we sure this wasn’t filmed? How the hell did that happen!’ Y/N thought loudly.

And thus the great snake attack came to an end.

Unfortunately Kaido took this one off experience to heart and was rather arrogant until he was sent to the principal’s office.

—————————————————————————

Today Y/N was on a mission, to go grocery shopping! Normally this wouldn’t be such an adventure but today they got their allowance and wanted to spend it on a sweet treat as a reward for doing chores.

“Oh wow!” “Oh wow!” “Oh wow!” When Y/N heard the noise of countless people in shock, they knew Teruhashi was near by. They tried to ignore her presence because when she is near by things either go really smoothly or they spiral out of control, Y/N didn’t want to take that risk today.

But suddenly ignoring Teruhashi became extra difficult as she ran up to the man I front of Y/N, Kusuo Saiki. “Saiki, hi! I couldn’t help but notice you looked sad.” ‘Uh oh, this can’t be good. I’ll have to talk to her if she notices me. Oh dear, why’d I pick today to go out?’ Y/N thought while regretting ever leaving their bed.

Oddly enough, Kusuo just bowed slightly and continued walking, this irked Teruhashi so she continued to try and get a reaction out of Kusuo.

“Saki, silly, know it’s not polite to ignore a girl.” Teruhashi said as she looked walked in front of Kusuo. However Kusuo made less of a deal with it and continued walking.

‘Never mind, this is getting entertaining! I’m so glad she hasn’t noticed me, this made getting out of bed worth it. Why is Teruhashi doing this? Why is she so shocked? Whatever, I’m having fun now,’ thought Y/N a little smugly.

“Saiki don’t leave me alone!” ‘Kusuo dodged again, brutal!’ YN thought only feeling a little bad for Teruhashi. Kusuo kept walking ahead while Teruhashi was frozen in place, Y/N then had to stop too, not wanting to be seen by Teruhashi.

“Saiki, hi~” ‘And she’s back at it!’ Y/N thought excited with enthusiasm.

“Where are you going? Do you mind if I tag along with you? I promise it’ll be fun Saiki!” Teruhashi said while repeatedly trying to grab at Kusuo, he is still dodging though.

Through the crowd Y/N’s attention was drawn to Nendo, then they noticed that Saiki disappeared.

“Oh no! Where did Saiki go? What’s going on?!” Y/N was thinking the same thing, until they saw Saiki on the roof. ‘Oh damn. I didn’t know acknowledging someone was that deep.’ Y/N thought before quickly taking their eyes off Saiki, they didn’t want to draw attention to him being on the roof.

“Saiki!!” Teruhashi called out.

“Nendo?”

“Oh wow Teruhashi!”

“Do you know where Saiki went?”

‘Oh shit, gotta hide!’

“Uh buddy? Nope, I haven’t seen him.”

Teruhashi was spacing off as Nendo continued to talk, all the while she had a prominently blushed face. ‘Uh oh, I bet that’s gonna cause some problems,’ Y/N thought while walking away.

Y/N was snickering as they walked away until Kusuo teleported right in front of them.

“What are you laughing at?” Kusuo questioned, clearly annoyed.

“You.” Y/N answered while still chuckling.

“You could have done something to get her off me you know.”

“And what would be the fun in that?” Y/N continued to joke.

“You know just because we are childhood friends and neighbors doesn’t mean I won’t burn you alive?” Kusuo said walking beside Y/N.

“Ya, ya, don’t worry I’ll buy you a coffee jelly for your troubles, okay?” Y/N said more softly and careful than before.

“Okay,” Kusuo said quickly.

“Hey Kusuo, are we still on for movie night tomorrow?” Y/N asked while smiling at his reaction.

“As long as you bring those coffee brownies I love,” Kusuo said half joking.

“You got it. Well, I got some groceries to buy. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Y/N said, waving Saiki goodbye then walking off. Y/N’s now determined to make the best damn brownies of Kusuo’s life.

—————————————————————————

Next episode

[the-type-a]

What’re you headcanons for their (duncney’s) family situations? Is Courtney an overachieving only child? Is Duncan acting out because of middle child syndrome? Or is he youngest of four brothers? Or is Courtney Responsible Eldest Daughter?

Ooo I have some random little ones!

I’ll start with Courtney’s family

Up until Dramarama I always hc’d Courtney being an on child. But if she were to truly have a sibling, Courtney would 100% be the oldest. I don’t really have a preference with this tbh.

Courtney’s family is very traditional. They teach her how to speak Spanish so early that she actually speaks it before English.

Her parents were the type to read her stories and allow almost no screen time while growing up. She maybe got around it when she started first grade, but up until then? Nope. It was books and the occasional instrumental pieces as background noise.

Courtney’s family knows everything about everyone. It’s kind of neat while she’s younger but once she’s old enough to make her own mistakes (like normal kids) it’s like gossip within the family.

Courtney’s parents are so overprotective that they shelter her from experiencing a lot of normal things. Like going to your first sleep over, going to the movies on the weekends, probably some school dances, etc.

IF Courtney is allowed to go out with friends it’s only for that day and she better not ask to see them the following day or the following week because “she just went out.”

When she gets to high school she purposely joins all these clubs so she can be out of her house. But of course they have to highly respectable ones because her parents will be attending any debate, or recital.

Grades? Oh her parents are making sure she never comes home with anything less than an A. It helps her when applying to colleges but at what cost? Then when she’s finally at college she has the option to opt her parents from seeing her grades and it’s like a weight lifted off her.

No matter how old she gets she needs to respect her elders. They could be so so wrong or plain disrespectful but she has to force a smile at them.

Along with no matter how old she gets, she constantly feels like she has to ask her parents permission for just about anything. She could be moved out and 23 and still calls them to see if she should sign for this new car or whatever.

Courtney is expected to join the family every Sunday at church. Sick? Bring some tissues.

Now some for Duncan’s family

Idc what anyone says, Duncan is the middle child 100% He has two older brothers and two younger ones. It’s only natural for him to act out because one, attention and two, he’s bored af.

His parents aren’t super strict with any of them because “boys will be boys”. They also allowed friends to come over basically whenever.

Growing up he gets into petty trouble with his brothers but it’s not until he’s a teenager that he goes overboard.

At this point his brothers have chilled out, but not Duncan. His parents really try to buckle him down but it never works. They’ve sent him to therapy and all.

This is when his rocky relationship with his father begins. He’s just so tired of having to pick his son up at his own job.

Duncan’s family is so big yet he feels completely alone. The only people he truly thinks cares for him are his mom and nonna.

Growing up they went on yearly family trips. It was always fun and Duncan was allowed to bring a few friends. As he gets older this changes and he just refuses to be around his family.

His nonna teaches him how to speak Italian and he’s really the only grandson who can and actually speaks it with other older family members. His family might have a thing or two to say about his behavior but they can never say he doesn’t love his background.

School sucks. Everyone knows his family basically run the police station. And speaking of school, Duncan never fails a test. He may fall asleep in class, not participate, or just not show up at all— but he’s smart.

There’s a family rule, or really a dad rule, that if you’re 18 and graduated you have to leave the house or pay rent.

At one point Duncan’s window had bars because he kept sneaking out.

[judgeanon]

Plastic Skies - Models 9 and 10: Sk 16 and Fairey Swordfish

It’s a prop plane double feature WWII spectacular!

Due to a number of personal circumstances, 2023 hasn’t started off quite like I would’ve wanted, and since most of those circumstances involved money, I wasn’t able to jump right away from the F-16 Falcon I bought in February to the next project I had in mind. But thanks to a kind act of generosity, I was able to not only keep my meager hobbyist skills sharp, but also breathe new life into some old models.

Now, here’s the thing: I’m not really into old school propeller planes right now. I kinda used to, I remember building a very neat P-51 Mustang when I was a kid, but thanks to Ace Combat I’m far more interested in jet planes at the moment. So no Spitfires or Hurricanes or Messers for me, no thanks. I’m good for now. However, about a week after finishing the F-16, I received in the mail a care package from an overseas friend who for the last couple of years has made it a tradition to send me a box of old toys, comics and other random stuff. Of course, our postal service usually delivers them around March, so it’s a bit of a late present, but a very welcome one nonetheless. Especially this year.

Very thoughtfully, my friend had packed in not one, but two whole model kits in the box: a Swedish Sk 16 from Heller and a British Fairey Swordfish from Airfix, both in 1/72 scale. A quick search on Scalemates confirmed that both models were from the 80s, and the Swordfish’s mold was from 1958, which I naturally found thrilling. There’s something very fun about working on something older than you are. Plus, it turned out that these models had a backstory to them: my friend had bought them with his family at a second hand market, so second hand that the Sk 16 had already been started. He never got around to actually putting them together though, and despite his family’s repeated requests over the years to just throw them out, they remained there, safely boxed up.

(In this case, the cockpit and fuselage had been glued and the black stripes already painted, albeit a bit haphazardly)

To be honest, I didn’t know much about both planes, which only added to the excitement. The Sk 16 turned out to be a Swedish version of the very popular American T-6 Texan, a plane that also flew in my own country’s air force. And the Swordfish is better known as the English naval biplane that helped sink the Bismarck (and the star of Garth Ennis and PJ Holden’s graphic novel THE STRINGBAGS). So these were, by all accounts, very fun planes already. And I was ready to have some fun with them.

Above all else, I think my favorite part of doing old planes is all the exposed engines and exhaust tubes. I’ve mentioned before how much I adore metallic paints, and I immediately realized that this would be a great chance to break them out. And of course, having both planes have movable propellers, which I also love. I know a lot of hobbyst like to build models as a snapshot of a singular moment in time, but I prefer them to be toys, things to play with a little, so any “play-features” like this immediately makes my heart soar. Look at that little prop spin. Weeeeeee!

The Sk 16 was a very fun build. The hardest part had already been made, after all, and the rest came together very quickly and very snugly. Not having any weapons also helped a lot, and I appreciated having an excuse to use the box of yellow paint I’d bought months ago. The canopy was a pain, and I fear I’ll never be able to have the pulse or right tools to get them looking just right, but I still see at least some improvement over previous attempts.

The other thing that was shockingly comfortable and even fun were the decals. Given the model’s age and remembering my bad experience with the Berkut, I was terrified that the decals would dissolve into water the moment I even thought about dunking them. To my surprise and joy, not only did they not break, they were also extremely easy to place. I’m rarely fully satisfied with my decal placing skills, but this one is probably the best I’ve done so far.

The whole thing was done over a weekend, and once I was done, all that was left was deciding whether I wanted to age it up or not. I consulted with the friend who’d sent me the model, who decided for me: this old plane had to look old.

Fortunately, my washes worked like a charm on this little wasp, which gained a couple of decades overnight. I showed it to my friend, who gave it his seal of approval and also mentioned the thing about his parents asking him to throw the models out if he was never gonna build them. So of course, I did what any person would do in that situation: asked him if he wanted an online album of all the finished model pics I had so he could show his parents. And of course, he said yes.

That’s kind of the thing: as much as I enjoy building models for myself, every time I finish one I find myself burning with the desire to show it off to everyone. I know that’s nothing unusual, but the thing is, I’ve rarely had the chance to show off something I made to other people. Everything I do is either prose, which is not exactly a thing people can just take a quick look at, or comic book scripts, which have the same problem. Even when they’re beautifully turned into actual comics by some incredibly talented folks, it’s still hard to whip ‘em out and go “This. I made this.”

Now, I have a folder in my cellphone full of finished model pictures to pull out like a proud dad just in case anyone asks. And even if they don’t ask, odds are they’ll see at least one.

(friend’s parents did indeed see the pictures and were reportedly surprised to see those old things looking so good. Which is another thing I’ve found very pleasant about model kit making: with the right tools and the right application, even an inexperienced newbie can make a 40 year old kit look impressive)

Pretty much the day after I finished the Sk, I started work on the Swordfish. This one didn’t have any work done other than some pieces having been awkwarldy separated from their sprues, but the plastic felt nice and everything seemed solid enough. Plus, for the first time since I started, I had to paint not just one, but two tiny little plastic men:

It... didn’t go terribly well, mostly because I refused to actually go out and buy new paints for them, but with apologies to my friend, it’s easier to cheap out on things when you weren’t the one who bought the model. Apart from that, I also decided to replace the goose egg blue that the kit’s instructions suggested for the undercarriage with the weird light grey I’d bought and used for the bottom of the F-16, since I still wanted to try it out. That turned out to be... not a mistake, per se, but it didn’t do me any favors.

As it turns out, it’s *REALLY* hard to get something to stick to this kind of paint, and there was a lot of sticking to be done with these two wings. Even worse, some of it was done practically blind, since fitting the struts and bars into their holes turned out to be harder than it looked. Looking back, I probably should’ve just glued the whole thing together first and painted it later, but I figured getting the paints in first would be better than having to sneak tiny brushes into hidden crevices.

Particularly troubling were the bars right in front of the pilot, seen here hovering like a full inch above where they should be. Not ideal at all. In the end, I had to resort to far more glue than I wanted and holding everything in place as best I could until it dried. The results look decent enough from an angle...

... annnd then you look at it from the front.

Ouch. Of course, I also skimped on using wires and stuff, but I was already getting a bit peeved at this old stringbag. On the other hand, painting the grey camo was an unexpected delight. All the paints worked well with each other, and the end result was pretty lovely, if not exactly historically accurate.

Soon enough, all that was left were the decals, and here I ran into a different problem: yellowing. Although there was also a bit of that in the Sk 16, the plane being bright yellow helped hide a lot of it. No such luck here. I tried leaving them out in the sun inside a plastic bag, which the internet said was the cure for yellowing, but they also warned me it would take a few weeks or even a month depending on how much direct sunlight they were getting. Which in my apartment is precious few. After two days, I caved in and said fuck it. Yellowed decals it is.

I’m not proud of what I did, but the odds are pretty good that I’d still be waiting if I hadn’t. Once everything was ready and varnished, I broke out the washes again, only this time I didn’t go for the full Sludge Treatment. Instead, I focused only on the details, the flaps and some other areas. I could lie and say it was to give it a cleaner look, but in all honesty, I was just kinda tired of it by now and didn’t want to deal with having to clean the sludge.

The results are a bit hard to tell, since the flaps were already pretty visible, but it was still a nice relief to have it all done and looking decent enough for another online album. The response I got from friend’s parents was similar, and similarly, it made me feel quite happy with myself.

Overall, I enjoyed this little detour into prop planes. But above all, I think what I enjoyed the most was the idea that doing model kits is turning into My Thing. That people are starting to pay attention, and that in some near future, the answer to “What should we give Judge for his birthday/christmas/wedding gift?” will always inevitably be a little plastic plane to build. Not just because it’s fun and because it opens the door to all kinds of surprises, but also because I think there’s something very unique about being able to tell someone “Hey, thanks for the gift, wanna see what I did with it?”. It’s a rare kind of connection, a back and forth of thoughtfulness and creation, and I’d like to do more of it.

But first... it was time. Time to finally knuckle up, shake that bottle of light gray paint and face my personal final boss of model kits. I just didn’t expect it would happen during one of the worst weeks of the year so far.

[navree]

Hey, hope you’ve been good!

I just finished reading your HOTD fics and I wanted to say that I really enjoy your writing. Spring’s End is my favorite, but Gods In Godless Times was a fun read (I’m weak for modern aus, like, if you have any modern au Green thoughts/headcanons-whether they’re related to your au or not-pls share, cause I’ll eat them up).

Would That They Were Not was also a good read. I really liked that Alicent was the one who ordered the dragons to burn Jahaerys’s body per the Targ tradition. And Aegon’s grief was 🤌

Thanks :)

Anon this was so nice to wake up to thank you so much!!!! You're so sweet, I'm glad you liked it all so much, these were all actually quite fun to write and I'm really happy that people are taking the time to let me know that they enjoy the, I really really really appreciate it.

Making Alicent be the one to burn Jaehaerys's body was very intentional of me, mostly because I always wanna refute the idea that her kids aren't "true Targs" just because of her, and to also show how close knit the entire family is and how that extends even to the dragon bonds, that they'll listen to her in that moment because of what she means to their riders. Aegon's grief was particularly gut wrenching to write, but I really wanted to sell just what an unexpected evil it was that happened to him give Aemond an extra gut punch to see his older brother so affected by the consequences of his (unintentional) actions.

I won't say too much because I do have a lot of chapters planned for Gods in Godless Times where I'm dumping most of these headcanons, and I do fully intend to get back to this fic, it's just that right now I'm taking two science classes (and I'm not scientifically inclined) as well as working on submitting applications to transfer into a four year college, which is taking up a lot of my free time. And I've also got a few one shot drafts for some other fandoms (mostly TMA and W359) that have been languishing for a while that I'm trying to finish and send off into the world.

But with all that being said, some headcanons include: -Daeron is a chaos gremlin of a kid. He's the youngest of four (five, technically if you count Rhaenyra) and this is a high pressure lifestyle, but also just personality wise he's bouncing off the walls and causing problems on purpose and being a lil whippersnapper, but still precious. -Aegon isn't entirely sure if he finds Alys really cool or still creepy (and yes I've aged her way the hell down but in the real world you cannot have a teenager in a relationship with a woman in her late thirties/early forties, you just can't, so that's why she's instead Helaena's friend and therefore her age instead) -Helaena was actually pretty chill when Aemond and Alys started dating, she likes that her lil brother is coming out of his shell and she thinks Alys is neat too anyway -Helaena is still Otto's favorite grandkid, and he Will go to town on any teachers who try and say she should focus more during school -Alicent isn't necessarily a typical PTA mom because a) idk if they've got that in the UK and b) the family position doesn't necessarily give her an opportunity for it, but she's still incredibly involved not just in the kids' personal lives but also in their schooling -Daemon is a family friend who is incredibly close to Viserys and practically grew up with him and who's one of those "honorary uncle" types, rather than Viserys's out and out brother -Viserys isn't infirm, just constantly sick due to age and bad health but still capable of having a job (not sure if I've mentioned this yet but Viserys is both a lord/peer as well as the current President of the Supreme Court in the UK) -Spoilers for the next chapter but the Starks are a prominent American political family and the Northerners are mostly American politicos/East Coast wealth, to parallel how the North in Westeros is far away and culturally removed from most of the country -The general conceit of this world is that certain elements of Westeros are in our world, things like the Free Cities being cities in Western Europe (Myr and Lys for me are specifically in France) and Dorne being some kind of wine country à la Napa or Bordeaux -Helaena wants to study biology and engineering, bugs aren't just a special interest for her but she's genuinely interested in how they and most stuff works -Aemond did, in fact, lose an eye in an accident involving his Strong nephews (it will be discussed) and he does have a lot of issues about it, though he's being slowly convinced by his family and Alys to maybe see someone about it -Rhaenyra is incredibly more distant in this, she's got her own family and the relationship was irreparably fractured almost worse than it was in the show after Aemond's accident -Aemond cannot cook. Helaena is passable. Aegon is actually very good cook -Helaena tries out all possible new hairstyles on Aemond, it's almost rare to see him with his hair loose rather than in some elaborate do Helaena was trying out -Aemond still has his long silky hair in this. People who give Aemond short hair in their modern aus are cowards I said what I said -All the Greens dragons are cats. Sunfyre and Dreamfyre and Tessarion are just normal cats, Vhagar is an old alley cat Aemond picked up at a shelter (it will be elaborated on) and who is incredibly protective of and fiercely cuddly for him and him only -Obviously, but the Greens have a much better and extremely more tight knit relationship in this than they do in show canon. They're incredibly ride or die for each other

Also this counts for the modern AU but is also true of basically all my Greens fics, the Green kids refer to Alicent almost exclusively as "momma", no matter what age or level of maturity.

And for anyone curious:

Spring's End: an Alicent centric fic written after episode 2 exploring Alicent's state of mind in the lead up to her wedding with Viserys and how she struggles to adapt to her new role as queen to be and Viserys's future wife/mother of his children. Warnings for Alicent's spiraling mental health, implied child abuse/CSA/grooming (Alicent is FIFTEEN and Paddy filmed this while in his fifties with Viserys's age unconfirmed she's a child I hate Viserys so much)

Mea Maxima Culpa: ficlet from Aemond's perspective set immediately after episode 10 as he tells the Small Council what happened at Storm's End.

Would That They Were Not: speculative fic on how the show might adapt Blood and Cheese and its immediate aftermath, Aemond and Alicent centric and told from their perspective, and as always, Greens sympathetic. Warnings for child death and spoilers for what's going to be a pretty big plot in season 2 if you haven't read the book and don't know what Blood and Cheese is.

Gods In Godless Times: multi chapter fic of unconnected stories about the Dance-era Targaryens in a modern AU, specifically modern day UK where the Targaryens are a longstanding noble family and Viserys is both a peer of the realm and the current President of the Supreme Court and most of the noble houses of Westeros are media moguls, Fortune 500 companies, politicians, and other upper echelons of society. Primarily focused on the Greens kids, but is planned to have chapter stories focusing on adults, "allies" of the Greens, and some members of Team Blacks and their "allies" as well.

[nevergeneralize]

“Nice try but I’m not adulting today”: the Millennials of Sk8

It’s really delightful to me that the grownups in Sk8 are recognizably millennials and I was really pleased by the way the show employs the visual hallmarks of my teen years to establish the flashbacks to the youth of the last generation. Feels like Officially becoming a Media Adult

Like obviously I am no longer the shonen target demo / main character being well out of my teens and that is not new, but I’ve been in a weird gap because Media Grownups have still seemingly been gen-Xers, aesthetically and values-wise (retro = the 80s, for seemingly forever), and that’s not me. But these Manic-Panic-haired Hot-Topic-shopping X-Games-watching sk8er bois absolutely are:

Kaoru was edgier in his youth than I would’ve dared in my own but I sure did have those bangs. Look at his eyeliner you could cut glass with those wings!!! He’s serving Avril Lavigne and I just know he’s got Death Cab or his local equivalent playing in his (wired, on-ear) headphones. This is ostensibly a school uniform but I wanted identical trendy skinny plaid pants so bad

Note the wallet chain and the aggressive side part which TikTok would have me believe is no longer cool?? This nice young man will go get a Godsmack shoulder tattoo at chef school and it will become part of his personal brand when he moves back to his hometown and decides to maintain a quirky high school hobby at great personal injury risk and what must be a disastrous sleep schedule situation. He’s somehow the best-adjusted man in all of shonen

And I know there’s not even a full generation between the two groups of main characters (as the show itself constantly jokes by way of Shadow’s objections to being called an old man) but they are separated by life-phase-dependent narrative trajectories: Reki and Langa and Miya are in coming of age (cough first love) stories, Kaoru is in a healing from old wounds story, Kojiro is a mentor figure (does he have character development or just a rockin bod?? Who’s to say) and Shadow is also mentor/supporter/team-mom. (Ainosuke is an important exception which I will discuss in a separate post; he’s in some ways belatedly coming of age.)

So the older group feels narratively/functionally like The Grownups but they are aesthetically My Peers. It’s kind of wild! “Feel old yet?” Yeah I do, finally, thanks! Congrats on graduating to anime adulthood my fellow millennials!

I’m sure there’s tons of other media where my generation is represented this way but this is the first one I’ve really noticed, maybe because it touches on a specific subculture that evokes my experience of youth, or maybe I don’t watch that many things set in the present anyway. Who knows. I think my particular delight in this experience also has to do with how Sk8 treats coolness and how the adults (at least The Founders) still get to have it. Maybe also the fact that the show’s characters get to be generationally differentiated but not at odds for that feels fresh to me; there are clearly marked aesthetic/narrative differences but they’re not hinging the conflict on the grownups being out of touch or the kids being immature. That feels a little bit utopian, actually, and opposed to a particular strain of discourse that paints Gen Z/The Youth as incomprehensible to the “olds” and separate from millennials, who should implicitly start to identify instead with more traditional values and attitudes, i.e. those of our parents. In fact I would argue that Sk8 actually models that identification with outdated parental values via Ainosuke and his family, and frames it as sad and toxic and villain-making, but we see a healthier alternative in the core squad, where Reki jokes about Shadow being an old man, and Joe and Cherry bemoan the kids joining vacation, but it’s lighthearted and we get to have fun joking about age/generational differences without it creating conflict! Found family/intergenerational dynamics without manufactured parent-child tension, except for fun at the beach! Neat! (Also the actual parent-child dynamics of Langa and his mom are pretty great)

So it’s cool to see my specific peer group’s aging represented without any suggestion that it should necessarily mean generational conflict or value-stagnation, or even uncoolness or the trope of inevitable adult boredom and the loss of youthful freedom and joy. We can have our own millennial culture AND separate adult narratives/problems AND solidarity with younger people AND empowered fully-realized maturing selves with fun hobbies! I can see myself in the Media Adults in a piece of media that’s got a pretty optimistic view of what adulthood means and I think that’s neat.

[roger-that-cap]

brand new eyes

wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: having a penpal in the sixth grade was overdone, in your opinion. and handwritten letters just weren’t convenient. you weren’t happy at all to start talking to some random girl your age across the sea, but once you started, neither of you could find it in you to stop.

warnings: fluff!!!! mutual pining. badly written letters (actually the whole one shot). brief battle with sexuality. a seriously strong connection between two characters (almost soulmate territory here tbh). every single mistake here is 100% mine!

word count: 8.7k!

At first, you were sure that the pen pal letter suggestion for extra credit was stupid. Why would you handwrite a letter when you could send an email? Why would you send a letter by mail that would take much longer? It took two weeks for a handwritten letter to arrive, and only seconds for an email. It didn’t make any sense.

And then you got your first letter.

You realized very quickly why handwriting was what your teachers asked for. You never knew that handwriting could be so vulnerable, so open. You had never seen letters that were so loopy, so delicate. That letter was written so neatly and so personally even if the girl who had written it hadn’t meant it to be that way, and you knew that a computer even with all of its special fonts wouldn’t be able to do that.

You understood why the handwritten rule was there.

But you didn’t like it when it was your turn to craft something so beautiful.

It wasn’t a competition by any means, but you didn’t want your letter to look anything like the words you scratched down into your notebooks. You wanted them to be neat and pretty and most of all understandable for the girl behind the pen and across the sea, because she had done the same for you.

By the time you stopped ogling over the letters and started actually reading the words that the girl had written, you learned her name. You learned it within the first line, actually.

Wanda Maximoff.

She was obviously from Sokovia, she spoke English as her second language, and she had an older twin brother that she both adored and was annoyed by. She was in the equivalent of your grade in her country, and she liked to cook with her parents. The letter was basic and slightly elementary, just an introduction to what she was willing to share with a stranger that lived thousands of miles away.

But that didn’t make it any less special.

You started on your return letter minutes after you let her pretty words sink in.

You drafted your letter and let it sit for an hour without you looking at it, and then came back to it only to cross things out and revise it, and then put it on the expensive paper that your mother had bought for you. It wasn’t perfect, but it was yours. It started with a greeting, your name, and then into the same sort of things that she spoke about in her own letter, the things that people that went to school with you had learned in passing over the years.

It felt like giving someone the rundown of your uneventful life so far in the simplest of ways. It felt like someone getting to know you as you wanted them to, because you were telling your story. There was no other side, or truth, or lie, just what your pen and your brain decided to write. It was controlled chaos. And you adored it.

Your print was easy to read. It wasn’t loopy like hers or as “girlish”, as one of your classmates said when you brought both letters to school to get an extra one hundred. It wasn’t fancy and alluring like hers, but there was still something magical on the pseudo-aged parchment.

You sent it off to the post office the next day, and you put her letter on your desk. 

§§§

By the time that your third letter from her came, you already were drafting your own. It came straight to your mailbox and when you checked the mail that morning, you were ecstatic to see it waiting for you, like a pet waiting for it’s person to come home. As usual, it started off with the gentle scrawl of your name, just a bit larger than all of the rest of the words that were on the page.

I can’t believe that it’s already been weeks of us writing. We started in August, and it’s nearing the end of October. Speaking of, is it starting to get cold there for you? It’s already cold for us. Our grandmother always makes us the best tea and soup when it gets cold outside, and I could send you the recipe if you wanted!

My brother and I are curious about one thing, and we hope that we get your answer in time, but, is Halloween really a thing? We have both heard of it, but we’ve never done it here. It sounds magical. I’ve always wanted to dress up however I wanted and get candy for it. If I were to do it, I would probably be a Disney Princess, maybe Merida. Sadly, we don’t do that here. Does it really happen in the United States, or is that a movie thing?

Hopefully you don’t mind my questions much, or my short letter. Pietro likes to read over my shoulder while I write and receive the letters, and I like to write at the kitchen table. There’s no escaping him. You’ve never talked about siblings, do you have them?

The rest of the letter was like that, aloof yet curious and bouncing around all the same, and then signed with her always rushed conclusion, which was nearly the same every time.

You read it and put the letter in the box that you had bought from a thrift store, a box just big enough for the size of the neatly folded and tied off letters that she gave you. You clipped the box shut and put it back under your desk, and then started working on your response.

Instead of just a letter, you sent her a letter in a small box that had the candy that you had gotten on Halloween night, and the mask that went with the rest of your costume. It wasn’t the Disney Princess that Wanda wanted to dress up as, but it was something. It was your something.

§§§

As the December portion of your letter writing, you and your penpal were supposed to learn of the other’s traditions during the Holidays, whether you or them celebrated or not. A huge slide show about the culture of your Sokovian friend was supposed to be shown, and you knew that there would be a lot of the same PowerPoints, a lot of the same pictures and sayings and explanations. You wanted something different. You also had no idea if Wanda did Christmas, but you had to ask.

Wanda,

I’m sure that you know that our assignment now is to present a slide show about what our penpal does during the Holiday season, but because I don’t know whether you celebrate Diwali or Christmas or Hanukkah, I’ll start with asking you about New Years, because I’ve never met a person who didn’t celebrate New Years.

What do you do on New Years Eve? I’ll start by telling you that I watch the ball drop with my family, eat food, and drink cider after it hits midnight. It’s a big deal here for us, because the new year is a time for self revolution, apparently. I’ve never done a New Years resolution, but maybe I’ll do one this year. Have you ever done one?

I know that food is very big over in Sokovia, so what kind of food do you traditionally have when you’re celebrating? Do you like it? Can you cook it yourself? Because I know that you have the same questions for me that you have to put in before you leave for Winter Break, I’ll answer my own questions.

And you did. You were thorough, partly because you thought that it was kind of you to do so because she should get a good grade, and also because she had written that she was thankful for your descriptions on multiple occasions. You had noticed that she was the more whimsical writer and that you came off as the more grounded one, and it intrigued you.

You wondered if you two would come off that way in person to other people, if you ever got the chance to meet.

When her letter came two weeks later, wrapped in aged string as always, you skipped to your bedroom, already pulling the box out from under the table and starting to read it. You smiled through the whole thing.

In her own way, not as precise or even in order as you, she had told you everything you needed to do a good slide show about Sokovia during the Holidays.

§§§

You were emotional at the end of the year. Not because you were leaving the sixth grade and going to a new building in the school and leaving behind your kind teachers, but because the pen pal assignment was over.

No other assignment had been so important to you, or eye opening. You were only twelve years old, but you were old enough to know that you had never found a friend like you had in Wanda, who was still thousands of miles away. No one else, not even the people that stood feet apart from you, offered you friendship like Wanda Maximoff did.

You couldn’t stop writing to her.

It was your turn to send a letter, the final letter that you were supposed to send, and then her closing letter was supposed to come two weeks later. You couldn’t just close it. Your entire mind was screaming at you to not close the book that you had hardly started yet.

So, as your pen rested on the parchment paper (without drafting first), you lifted it up, and changed your mentality from a “goodbye” to a hopeful and questioning one, as you hoped that she felt the same and wanted to talk just as much as you did.

Wanda,

It’s the end of the year. Technically, we should be done with our letters because it’s the end of the year, and the assignment is graded. This should be a closing letter, but I don’t think that our friendship was ever dictated by the grades that we got. We were always closer than all of the other pen pals at school that I knew, and I was hoping that you would want to continue writing.

You couldn’t write much more after that, because your pen was shaking and you were starting to get in the danger zone of dropping tears on the paper. If this was your last letter to Wanda, you wanted it to be pretty. Just half as pretty as she always made hers, if you could manage it.

You sent it off the next morning after finding an old string that was nearly the same colors as hers and getting your friend across the street to hold it down and color the outside of it for you.

§§

A part of you wanted to say that you wouldn’t have been expecting to still write handwritten letters to a girl in Sokovia in the ninth grade, but you certainly were. While everyone else in your class had lost contact after the assignments were done or tried and failed to keep contact afterwards, you and Wanda continued talking all through the years.

It astounded your parents, who were sure that in the beginning, you were just obsessed with someone who was your age and who wasn’t exactly like you. They thought for sure that you would have lost interest in talking to Wanda, but after three straight years, gas spent taking you to the post office, and money spent on special stamps and the same paper, they were starting to finally get the hint.

Because you were so close with Wanda, you hardly had close friends in your neighborhood, and maybe two or three at school. There was no one that knew you like Wanda did, and no one that knew Wanda like you did. One particular letter where you confessed probably the worst thing you had ever done to her that no one else knew was what finally let you know that she was the most judgement-free person in the world, and that you would do anything to keep her. You would never forget how the letter went, and how her response sounded. 

Wands, 

I’ve done something terrible. I may have accidentally gotten involved with a boy who already had a girlfriend, and I had no idea. I had literally no idea, and today she just called me out of nowhere and started crying over the phone to me, and I had no idea that he was with her. At all. It was so pitiful, and she’s not mad, and she says that she won’t tell anyone it was me, but still. She seemed to really like him, and I think I may have just ruined a relationship. I have no idea what to do, and all I feel is guilt. Nothing more or less. Should I send her something? Give her a gift card? I feel terrible because she was just so sweet about it.

The letter went on and on with your scripted rambling, so repetitive and panicked that you were shocked to know that Wanda had, in fact, read the entire thing. She got a message back to you rather quickly, and that made you both nervous about her verdict and glad, because you felt like with an answer so quick, she must not have judged you too harshly. You remembered opening it with shaky hands, and inhaling and exhaling when her first words after your nickname were “breath in” and “breathe out”. 

Wanda once said that writing to you was like writing to a diary who always wrote back, and you couldn’t agree more. She knew everything, and she never judged. And, when the time came for her to put all of her eggs in your basket of trust, you did the same for her. 

You distinctly remembered getting the few letters that you kept at the bottom of your letter stack, even though you liked to have them in chronological order. In the eighth grade, Wanda was having a crisis over her sexuality. Being anything but straight in Sokovia wasn’t the best thing to be, and you knew that. The first letter she ever sent you about her sexuality had dried spots on it, where she had obviously cried. Her handwriting wasn’t anywhere as neat as it usually was, and it sent you into a state of panic. 

We talk to each other about everything, so here I am asking for your advice because I won’t be getting anything here. I know that usually we keep our letters formal for aesthetic purposes, but I can’t this time. Also, no one other than you can read this. 

From there, she told you that she was sure that she liked women, and that she was even more sure that her parents would be upset at her. She told you that she had been dwelling on it for a while, thinking about it and having it weigh heavily on her mind. She was all over the board with it, from her parents being upset to her being afraid that you were going to be opposed to it as well, or tell her that she was “too young to think that way”. She ended the letter by telling you that you were the first person that she had ever told. 

You started your letter with your own confession, and Wanda Maximoff was the first one you ever told, too. You were past having your crisis, though, and you helped her through hers without a second of complaints. You always wished that you had someone to help you when you were down and questioning yourself, so you knew that you would be that for Wanda without hesitation. 

You two grew together even more, and by the ninth grade, you both knew that there wasn’t going to be anything in the world that could stop your letters. 

You came home one day after a long day and checked your mailbox out of habit, knowing that a letter wasn’t due for a few more days. But there it was, wrapped and sitting pretty for you. Your name was scrawled beautifully on the front in the handwriting that got better and better with every year, but you would recognize it anywhere. A smile grew onto your face as you walked to your front door, unlocking it and rushing inside to get to your desk. Of course, your name came first in the loopy letters.

I hope you’re doing alright! Things have been busy over here on my side of things, but never busy enough to not write you back. I just wondered, have been wondering for a while, really, if we were ever going to meet. We’ve been writing to each other for years, but I’ve never seen a picture of you. I know everything about you, but I’ve never met you. You are my best friend in the entire world, but I’ve never heard your voice. One day I would love to finally meet you. Would you be open to thinking about one of us flying out? Maybe after school is over for the both of us, we could make it happen. Number  

It was much longer than that, but that was what caught your attention, more than her description of her busy week did. You read the letter three times. And then again. Your heart thumped in your chest as you tried to get a grip on yourself, irrational nervousness gripping your throat like an iron fist.

You knew the day was coming. You knew that it was. You two didn’t know what the other looked like at all, and neither of you had ever asked. Sometimes, you thought about it, but other times you found that it really didn’t matter. It didn’t matter what she looked like because she was the best friend you had ever had, so you forgot about it. But that wasn’t what worried you.

The thought of meeting her nearly put you in cardiac arrest. You couldn’t meet her. What if you met and you two were totally bored of each other? What if how close you were on paper didn’t reflect at all in real life? What if you two found roadblocks in conversation that you never saw before? You didn’t want to meet her, not at all. You were terrified of it.

Because if you didn’t connect with Wanda on sight, then you doubted that you would ever be able to connect with anyone else. If you were wrong about Wanda being your person and her being yours, you would be crushed. If you figured out that the person who you gave your all for didn’t like you anymore after meeting you, you would die on the spot. You couldn’t afford to find it out.

You sat at your desk for an hour after reading her letter, smoothing your hand over the paper like you always did before you wrote your response. You knew what you needed to say, you just didn’t know how to say it.

What she had already written helped you, too. She was implying that they met up after graduation, which was still years away. You had time to hold off on it, to not talk about it for a while. You had some stall time in the bank, for sure. And you were going to use it.

§§§

You made the mistake of not putting the letter in your box.

Your mother came into your room, and she saw the letter. Your desk was typically off limits, so you were upset that she read it anyway, but what she said led all anger out of your body and made way for fear.

“You should totally go see your friend, sweetie!”

“What?”

“I’d pay for you to fly out,” your mom said. “I’d come with you, but I would pay for you to fly out and see your friend. You’ve been writing each other for three years now, and you’ve never seen each other. You guys should do it.”

“You’d fly me out to Sokovia?”

“You’re a great kid, of course I would.” You took the letter from her hands gently and put it in the box, and she gave you a look. “You don’t want to go, do you?”

You didn’t answer.

“Why not?”

“I’m scared to meet her,” you admitted plainly, and then your mother gave you a look.

“She seems so excited to, after all these years. She’s such a sweet girl, what are you worried about?”

You couldn’t answer that. Your fears were your own, and they sounded ridiculous out loud. They made no sense to everyone else, and sometimes not even to you. Wanda Maximoff was nothing but sweet and kind and a good friend, and there you were, trying to blow her off because you were scared of a possible lack of face to face connection.

“Can we just drop it?”

And you did. In fact, all four of you did, until later.

§§§

By the end of your junior year, you were done for. Not because of tests or applications or any of that, it was because you realized that you were in deep for Wanda Maximoff.

It all made sense. The need to keep writing to her, the excitement you had felt getting a letter since sixth grade, the way you marveled over her penmanship and loved everything that she said and did. You were so in love with her, and it was irreversible. You were in love with her and what the two of you created together. 

And you couldn’t lose that because of a bad meeting. 

You avoided the topic of going there or Wanda coming to you, and you finally got each other’s numbers so that you could text on some international texting app, but primarily, it was still the heartfelt letters with the occasional heart stamps and constant string coming your way. And you wouldn't haven’t wanted anything different. 

 You sat at your desk on the last day of school as you wrote to her, writing about how you were about to watch some of your slightly older friends graduate in a few days. You also mentioned how you were excited to be a senior and get through your last year of high school just so that you could go and do whatever it was that you wanted to do, because you were only seventeen, and you didn’t know anything. 

 Sunshine, 

I can’t wait to get out of high school. It’s not bad, just boring. I wish the people here were like you, and then maybe I could actually carry a conversation with them. Have you told your family yet? I told mine. My mom was… shocked to say the least, but she was fine with it. I think she might have suspicions about us writing to each other now, but who cares? I want to know if you’re alright. 

How’s your new job going? I know you were excited to get one, so I hope it’s treating you well. It’s funny that you and Piet work across the mall from each other. I knew it was gonna be like that, even though you said it wouldn’t be! You two are inseparable, it’s so cute. Does he have any idea what he wants to do after we get out of school? 

 I kind of think that I want to start my own business. A flower shop, maybe. You know how I sort of have a green thumb. I think it would be good for me to own something. What do you think? 

You wrote for about thirty minutes more, answering the questions she had asked you in a previous letter and signing your name at the bottom, a small smile on your face as you thought about her and her brother making food together like they always did. 

You loved her. You really did. 

§§§

 It was in the middle of your senior year when you realized what the problem with her coming was. You had been keeping it so far in the back of your mind that you didn’t even realize that the alarms were blaring in the back of your head. 

  You knew that if you saw Wanda in person once that you would never be able to let her go. You would have to pick up and move to her country or she would come to yours, and it would kill your mother for you to move. So, that would mean that you would be asking for Wanda to leave her own family to be with you, and you couldn’t be selfish.  

 So, you would be selfish in a way that was also selfless by holding off on seeing her. 

 You hadn’t told her that you loved her, and you planned on never admitting it. You were sure she kind of knew, even just a little, but she never said anything. The way that you were holding onto the idea of her probably said enough for her to know. You just hoped that she knew that you were in love with her as a friend, at least. Wanda was the type who needed to know that they were loved, and she so was. 

 You loved her without even knowing what she looked like. You loved her without knowing whether she had a nasty habit or if she was a neat freak. You loved her without seeing her in a dress or in your favorite color or even looking into her eyes. You had never even heard her voice before, but that didn’t matter at all. You fell in love with her hand writing, then the way that she wrapped her letters, and then her words themselves. And then, you just were in love with Wanda Maximoff. All of her. All that you knew. And the things that you didn’t.  

 You thought about a confession letter for a long time. You were terrified of it, to say the least, because what if it backfired? What if she thought that you were only interested because she came out to you? What if she thought that you didn’t mean it at all? 

Or worse, what if she just completely didn’t feel that way at all? What if the feeling she got when she wrote to you was nothing but platonic? That would be the biggest nightmare of all, and you had no idea how you were ever going to be able to pick up your fancy pen and put it to your special parchment after reading that. 

By the time that you finally stopped wrestling with yourself about whether you were going to tell her that you were in love with her, you got a letter in the mail. A heart stamp was on the outside and it was tied with the string it always was, and the familiarity calmed your racing heart. You opened it gently, like you did with all of the letters you got, and then you saw her familiar scrawl. 

How could someone’s handwriting feel like home? 

Moonlight, 

I would love to tell you about everything that’s been happening here, but I believe that it’s rather boring compared to what’s been bursting at the seams in my own mind. With every letter that I’ve ever written to you since we were thirteen, I’ve hesitated with my pen over telling you what I know has been true for years. I think that, finally, I know that I have something to say to you. I’ve always wanted to admit this to you, ever since the seventh grade. 

 I think that I fell in love with you, a long, long, time ago. I think that I know I did. I haven’t told you, and I never intended to tell you, because I was scared. I’m still scared here, as I write this letter, but I can’t keep it to myself anymore. 

  Pietro already knows, but he knew before I even did. I’m sure it has something to do with us being so in sync, that he knew where my heart, love, and loyalties were before I even knew myself. I tell you everything, and something as monumental as falling in love with someone, I believe that you should know. But I couldn’t tell you. Not in the beginning, and apparently, not even after a year or two. 

  I’ve never seen you or heard your voice or held your hand, but I don’t need that to know that I truly have fallen in love with the person that you are. You are a beautiful person with the most gorgeous soul I have ever had the privilege of talking to, and I think that we have stumbled upon a connection that we may never see again, if you feel the same way. 

 If this made you uncomfortable in any way, please tell me. I’m sorry if this came on too strong, or too up front. I never want to make you upset. 

 It’s okay if you don’t want to carry on writing to me after this letter. I just thought that I needed to tell you after all this time. We never lie to each other, and I think that this lie to save me from possible embarrassment or losing the greatest friend I have ever had has expired. Thank you as always for reading, Moonlight. 

 Your Sunshine, Wanda. 

Your jaw was slacked, and your mouth was open. Your heart was beating so quickly, but it wasn’t frantic. Your mind was going at a thousand miles a minute, but you were calm. You were supposed, but you weren’t. It simply felt… right. It felt like you had secretly been expecting it all along, like your soul had known the whole time, or maybe even like it had known that you felt the exact same way. It felt like you were receiving news that you had already heard about. 

But that didn’t take away any from the pure elation that you felt. You set the letter down so that you didn’t accidentally wrinkle it, and then put your head in your hands to hide your smile and think, like they would help you any. 

  She loves me. Wanda loves me. And not in the way that friends loved each other, that’s not how she loved you. She felt what you had been feeling, a bond so strong that it could be felt on paper. 

  Your hands shook as you reread the letter. You scanned over it for a second time, a third time, and you were tearing up by the fifth, finally setting it down again and leaving it on your desk. It didn’t deserve the beautiful darkness of the box where it’s predecessors went, not yet. Probably not ever. You would have framed it in the moment, if you could have. 

  Part of you was glad that she admitted it first. You were going to, one day, maybe. But the worst part was the hypothetical wait for the letter to cross the pond. Whoever sent the confession letter would have to wait about two weeks for a response, and that felt like forever. You knew that just as much as she did, and she still took the chance to do it. 

So, with the most fond and gentle smile on your face, you took out your special pen, wrote Sunshine as the entrance, and then professed your own love right back at her, trying as hard as you possibly could to make it as beautiful and raw for her as you felt on the inside, and as the one that she gave you. But, all you could think of were the first two sentences, but you knew that you were going to go for much longer than that. 

  Sunshine, 

Oh, Wanda. How I wish we were both brave enough to do this earlier. 

§§§

 By the end of your senior year, you two were dancing around each other, taking it slow, as if you both hadn’t professed your love for each other. You kept writing your steady letters to each other, the same nicknames, the same doting words and pretty scratched across the paper with dark ink. 

For the most part, nothing changed. But neither of you could deny the way that you wanted to see each other. And so, your time was up. You had to stop messing around. 

  The first time the two of you planned to see each other, it was supposed to happen over that summer break. It was supposed to be a nice experience for everyone, at a time that was actually pretty convenient. 

  And then, right during the week she was supposed to come, her aunt passed away, right in her sleep. It didn’t even come to your mind to think about rescheduling so fast, and that was the first time you had ever gotten an email from Wanda. She emailed you the morning that she found out, saying that she would rather send the first email than have you show up at the airport upset because you didn’t know she wasn’t coming. She was able to resell her ticket and you assured her that it was totally okay for her to not be coming, and you gave her condolences, as well. Wanda was very close to her family, and you knew that she felt that loss. 

  The next time the plans fell through, it was because you were going to surprise her. Your mom paid for your ticket, and you had finally grown out of your own mind and realized that it was going to be what it was regarding meeting Wanda. But, when you emailed her two nights before, spilling the beans because you didn’t want to just go to the airport without knowing how the hell to get around, you got a quick response. Turns out, she wasn’t anywhere near her house, or the airport. She was on a marine biology trip in some waters off the coast of Romania, and she hadn’t gotten the chance to write you all about it yet. You begrudgingly canceled the trip and told her that of course, it was alright. That night, your mom assured you that the two of you would just try again later.

 But then life happened. You went off to culinary school, a last minute yet sure decision after Wanda had taught you that there was so much more to love about food other than the taste. She had your new address and you had hers, because she moved from Sokovia to Italy for her marine biology major. The letters came and went faster, with the smaller amount of mileage. 

   Long story short, neither of you had enough money to go and spend thousands on a trip, and not even one helping the other out or splitting the cost helped much. Wanda was getting increasingly nervous about whether it was ever going to happen, and though she never stated it directly, it was very obvious. You were getting there, too. 

 The thing that kept you going was the letters. The same as they had always been on her end and yours, they were the one constant in your life. Wherever you went, you knew that her letters would follow you, and that you would still write from your heart and send your own across the sea over to some place in Europe. You knew that as long as her letters were lengthy and detailed and that if she took the time to wrap them as gently as she had been, that you two were strong. And as long as you kept giving advice and writing her entire short stories about you week, she knew that you were still hers. 

  You would be hers until your heart stopped beating, and long after that. You were there for her for as long as she wanted you to be, and that was widely known. 

§§§

It took four years for you to get back home and in a place where you could afford a ticket in or out. Wanda took a little longer, but that didn’t matter. It only gave you even more time to save and plan for when she came, and the date came. 

You were both twenty two when you bought her the winning ticket. You were flying her out to Florida for a week and a half. The Keys, to be exact. You knew that she was going to love it and the beautiful waters that came with it, and it was away from the meddling eyes and mouths of your family, the ones who had been routing for you from afar (and in the beginning, behind your back). It was just going to be the two of you in a condo, and you knew that it was going to be heaven on earth. 

 Now, hell on earth was the anticipation of waiting at the airport. You had no idea what Wanda Maximoff looked like, partially because it didn’t matter while you two wrote, and also because you wanted to see her for the first time in person. You two had a flare for dramatic romantics, another reason that you two clicked so well. 

  You stood with a sign that you had made the night before with paint that you had mixed yourself into her favorite shade of red, a scarlet, almost pink color. You were in a sundress because it was sweltering outside, and you were almost nervous about how she would take the heat after being somewhere so cold all of her life. You were rocking back and forth on your feet without even noticing, and your stomach growling was the last of your worries. Your heart was racing and your hands were shaking, but you willed them to stay still so that she could at least have a chance of reading it. 

  You were sure that you were about to pass out. It seemed like it had been millennia and a day all the same with her in your life. Everything that you had written each other was really about to come to life, after ten long years. You felt almost like it wasn’t real at all, like you were about to be woken up by your alarm back in your apartment over at your old school. But it was very, very real, and all the receipts and your racing heart advocated for the truth in it all. 

The gates opened, and all of a sudden, people were lazily walking out, as one would do after a long flight. You were certain that the woman who was standing next to you could hear you start to slightly hyperventilate, but you didn’t care. The only thing that mattered to you in that moment was Wanda. 

  A man came up from behind you and bumped you, and he said his apologies while you bent down to pick up the sign. Despite your nervousness, you stopped to tell him that it was okay, sign still face down on the floor. He grinned at you and then frowned when he looked up, causing you to mirror his expression. 

 Your name. It was clear as day, accented, close, and sounded like a sigh of relief and wonder floating in the wind. It came from a woman you didn’t know the voice of, and just like that, you remembered what you were doing. You left the sign on the floor, stood up, and turned around as fast as you could, eyes slightly wild as they soaked in everything about the woman standing in front of you. 

  Her hair was almost a cross between light brown and light red, even in the fake lights of the airport. She had light makeup on and she looked a little tired from the flight, but the look of elation on her face wiped it all away. Her pink lips were curved into an open mouthed smile, like she had forgotten the words while they were already halfway to her tongue. Your heart raced as you looked at her, and you didn’t even need to question who she was. Or who she was to you. You couldn’t look at anything but her face, the face you had been missing so achingly without ever seeing it before, the face that you knew was bound to give you comfort that you had never felt one in your life, until the end of your days. Her eyes were wide and a clear blue as they stared back at you, reflecting your exact expression, and you sensed that the two of you had already synced up and gotten on the same page, just like you had both predicted.

 “O-oh my god,” you breathed out, just inches away from her. “Wanda!” You went in for an embrace at the same time, both of you somehow knowing which way to lean your head to avoid collision, and just where to put your arms. You fought shaking when you held her, your nerves completely shot at it finally happening. You were actually with Wanda, in an airport, hugging her like there was all the time to spend in the world. “Oh my god,” you repeated, and you felt her squeeze you a little closer to her. You could have cried in that moment. 

 “You,” she pulled back from you to take your face in her hands, her blue eyes scanning over your face like she was studying priceless art. In the back of your mind, you wondered if it was the way she looked when she watched the animals underwater. She shook her head slowly, eyes welling up with the thinnest layer of tears as her lips turned up into a smile. “You are beautiful.”

  Your heart skipped a beat as you looked downwards, feeling yourself get hot at the bold and sincere compliment. You knew that anything more than about three words was going to smoke you stutter “Wanda, have you seen yourself?” She laughed, a soft sound that you had imagined hearing so many times that you almost thought you had made it up, until you saw the upturn of her mouth and the mirth in her eyes.

 “I’m- I can’t believe I’m actually here,” Wanda breathed out, and you felt the same exact way. How had you pulled it off? After nearly a decade of pining that was mutual and writing to each other about every little detail in your lives, she was finally right in front of you, where you could see her and touch her. 

  “How’d you know it was me?” You asked after a second of grappling for something to say. “I didn’t have my sign up when you came.” 

 The smile that was on her face went from being flat out joyful to content, almost peaceful. It rubbed off on you immediately as you leaned back into her touch, ignoring all of the people bustling around in the busy airport. “I just knew that it was you.” 

§§§

For the entirety of the day Wanda arrived, all the two of you did was stare at each other and hold onto each other, like you were both equally terrified that the gods were going to come down from wherever they resided to split you up again. There was hardly even any talking when you arrived at the condo, and it felt natural. The two of you had already spoken so much, and now you needed to catch up on just seeing her. You’ve seen her soul, her mind, her heart, and now you were seeing her face. It felt like you had always known it. 

 But you were the first one to speak as you held hands on the deck, her thumb drawing subconscious hearts on the back of your palm. “You have a way with words, sunshine.” The name contrasted to the sky, which was dark but illuminated with an almost full moon and stars. The city was mostly behind you, so the natural light was what you got. It was all that you needed. 

 You felt her content fade into joy. “Really?” 

You knew that she was nervous about her English, but to you, it was perfect. From her accent to the way that she sometimes missed connotations that were specific to the language to the idioms that accidentally slipped into your letters, you loved it. “Mhm,” you hummed, leaning your head on her shoulder. “And I never would have imagined that you sounded so… sweet.” 

 “Sweet?” She parroted, and you smiled even though she couldn’t see it. Somehow, you knew that she could feel it, in some strange way. “Can I ask you something?” The answer was yes. It was yes, and it always would be yes. So, you said that. She cleared her throat, a quiet sound that you stored in your memory to keep, simply because she made it. “Did you… did you mean what you wrote?” 

 You were stumped. There had to be hundreds of letters between the two of you, and thousands upon thousands of topics. But you couldn’t question yourself for long, because then you knew exactly what she was talking about. 

  Did you truly love Wanda? The question came up a few times between you and your mother when you were in your first year of culinary school. Were you in love with Wanda Maximoff, or were you in love with the idea of Wanda and the mystery she brought? The question had been brought up, many times by your mother, who was only just making sure that you were being smart, and the answer never once varied. Yes. You loved Wanda Maximoff with every breath you took, every stroke of your pen, every glance at her pretty script. You knew that Wanda was it for you, and seeing her only solidified it. The way your hand fit together like they were the missing parts of a lost artifact made it concrete. The way she gave you everything back and the way you did the same told you everything you needed to know. 

  You leaned off of her shoulder and turned to face her, a soft smile on your face as the moon came out from behind the singular patch of clouds in the night, illuminating her features. You saw her face and her spirit through brand new eyes, and it was wonderful. It was all you could ever ask for. “Wanda,” you started, your voice quiet enough to not disturb the moment, and the sound of waves crashing not too far away. “I’ve loved you since I knew what love was, and I have been in love with you for as long as I knew what the difference between the two really was. Everything that I have ever sent to you, every word, I meant it all. And I’ll mean it for the rest of my life.” 

 She was staring at you blankly, with only a bit of something lingering in her gaze. Then, as soft as a breeze, she was muttering something under her breath in her mother tongue and putting her hand on your face. “Can I kiss you?” 

You ignored the way that your heart surged in your chest. The moon was still out and bright, shining down on the two of you like you had paid for it to be a spotlight. “You never have to ask,” you said, and then, as fluidly and gently as humanly possible, she tilted her head and leaned forward, and you met her halfway. 

§§

You had never been scuba diving before, but Wanda was in her element. She helped you suit up after she told the instructor that she was certified, and then rolled her eyes playfully when he checked behind her work. You cracked a smile. The entire time he was instructing, she was nearly bursting at the seams to get into the water, and the second he said that the two of you were allowed to go, she was holding your hand and asking if you were ready. 

 You never thought that Wanda could look more beautiful than she already had, but in and near the water, she was something else. She was in a state of grace and peace all the same, and you wanted nothing more than for her to be so tranquil, for the rest of her life. All you wanted in return was to be privileged to see it. 

The gods that made you fear a bad trip were actually on your side, because Wanda excitedly pointed out a group of migrating sea turtles, not even paying either of you any mind at all, carrying about through nature. You smiled at them and at her, unable to decide which one was going to be the apple of your eye at the moment. You chose her. 

§§§

You got out of the shower, your skin still slightly damp and the air humid from the heat of the water. You smiled at Wanda when you caught her looking at you, giving you that same blank stare that she had the first night the two of you got there. You stopped in your tracks, giving her the encouraging look that you knew she needed. “You okay, Wands?” 

 “I love you.” 

Your breath hitched. It was the first time she had spoken the words aloud, and you both knew it. The weight of the words and the confession felt so true, so genuine, that it went straight to your heart and made it swell with warmth. A small yet generous smile stretched onto your face as you felt everything fall into place. “I love you, Wands.” 

  “More than I’ve ever loved anything,” she continued, like she hadn’t even heard you, and you looked back at her with a doting expression. “And, I’ve been holding off because I don’t know how to say that,” she paused, and then she fell into deep thought. 

 You took a step closer, assuming that the small language barrier had come up. When it took her more than a few seconds and you saw the little scrunch of confusion between her brows appear, you spoke up. “There’s no rush,” you said gently. 

“If other people were to look at us, they would say that we have only known each other for three days,” she said, and you nodded. “But, I feel that we’ve known each other for thousands of years. I feel that we were made to meet, and that we were always going to no matter what came up. Why else would we both be so focused on talking to each other? I have always seen you as someone special to me, always, but now that we have finally seen each other face to face, I think that my… heart is recognizing you as it’s other part.” 

 You had no words in your mind at that moment, because they were all in your heart. You couldn’t open your mouth to convey the pure shock and relief that you felt at her admitting something that you had been feeling the whole time. You swallowed and felt your eyes burn with tears, but before they could fall past your cheeks, Wanda stood up and wiped them from your face before pulling you close. 

  Nothing mattered. Not the fact that you were still wet and she was in her pajamas, not the fact that you were in a towel, not the fact that the pizza man was knocking at the door. It was you and her, like it always had been in your mind, and Wanda’s too. 

  You were it for her, and she was it for you. And while you hugged it out in that beautiful condo in Florida, you silently thanked your sixth grade English teacher for making you write to a random girl your age all the way across the Atlantic, and you thanked Wanda for being the one who wrote her way right into your life. 

so. uh! hiiii! i hope y’all liked it! i loved writing it, even though she was a lil bit of a challenge, not gonna lie. feedback is always appreciated!!

[starlessea]

Here Comes the Sun: XXI. When You Were Young (Daryl Dixon/Reader)

Series Masterlist: Here Comes the Sun

Summary: Daryl Dixon scares the hell out of you climbing out of that damn creek. It takes hauling his ass halfway across Georgia and taking a bullet for him to realise that you're not half bad. He slowly starts to come around, despite grumbling about how much he doesn't like your singing, or that you can't use a gun for shit - and don't get him started on that ugly yellow tent of yours. It takes him a while before he starts to see for himself that he's found a best friend for life, and that he doesn't actually mind the colour yellow that much, after all.

Words: 5907

Chapter Warnings: Language, Insecurities.

You snapped the book shut and looked up at your class, who stared back at you in complete awe. You laughed, taking in their expressions. The first time you had read this novel, your face looked something similar to how theirs did now. You couldn't help but let out a little laugh, uncrossing your legs and standing up from your seat. Immediately, they started to chatter amongst themselves about the ending, and the volume rose as their voices ricocheted off the walls of the small classroom. 

In the last couple of months that had passed since the takeover of Woodberry, the prison had been completely transformed. It was barely recognisable from how you'd first found it. The cells each had a bed, and now resembled actual rooms. The field had been tilled and converted into farmland courtesy of the Greenes, and you even kept livestock in wooden pens. Best of all, Rick and the others had set up a classroom for you to teach the children. You could remember it like it was yesterday. It had certainly been a well-kept secret, and almost everybody had known about it but you. 

Daryl and his team had scavenged some desks and school supplies, as well as an old blackboard that reminded you of the one you had first written your name on. They'd even brought back a wooden bookshelf - which they had to tie to the roof of one of the vehicles just to get it home. Over the course of the next few weeks, it began to collect books, filling up more and more each day.

Your first assignment had been for your students to create a poster on any book of their choice - and as a result, they also filled the white space of the walls. Before long, the former guards’ office resembled an actual classroom, brimming with colour and, surprisingly, children eager to learn.

"Okay, everyone!" You called out, clapping your hands to get their attention. "Now that we've finished this book, I want you all to write your own short story in response to it."

The group started to murmer amongst themselves again, and you yelled out over the chatter.

"It can be a sequel, or even something different inspired by it." You explained, your voice getting lost in the crowd. "Be as creative as you can." 

It was a real learning curve getting used to teaching younger students. Though, it was a lot more rewarding than you thought it would be. You remembered teaching Carl briefly at the Greene farm, which felt like a lifetime ago now. You never expected for your class to grow to the size that it was.

"I'm looking forward to reading them all tonight before bed." You added, once they had settled down enough to do so.

It was a tradition for you to do all of your marking in the evening. It filled up your time and kept you occupied until Daryl returned. He'd been going on a lot more runs recently, and it made you worry less when you had something to take your mind off it.

"Any questions?" You asked, and saw a flurry of hands go up in response.

"Teacher!" A young girl called, waving her arm to get your attention.

You smiled almost unknowingly. If adults had even half the enthusiasm of children, then maybe a lot more would get done around here.

"Yes?" You answered, and nodded in her direction.

The legs of her chair lifted a few inches off the ground as she swung back a little, and you fought every teacher-urge inside of you that said to pull her up on it.

"Is Mr. Dixon going to read them with you?" She giggled, and suddenly you forgot about the chair.

You couldn't contain the snort that left your mouth from the name 'Mr. Dixon.' You'd have to tell him about it later.

"I meant questions about the work." You chided gently, but the smile on your face told another story. "Though, he might. So make them interesting." 

Once again, you were unable to control the class as they got rowdy, and you just shook your head.

"You don't want him to fall asleep when I read them to him, do you?" You added, as you started to hand out the paper.

The children spent the next hour or so furiously scribbling out their stories in messy handwriting that you'd be tasked with deciphering later. Daryl had been gone for a few days on a run, but he was due back at some point today. Though, you wouldn't put it past him to conveniently arrive home late, to get out of marking duty with you.

When the time came to dismiss your class, you were given a lot of hugs and waves from everybody as they left. Perhaps it wasn't the most professional, but nothing really was these days. You were lucky to even still have a profession given the circumstances. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a figure looming in the entranceway, holding the door open for the children as they left the classroom. It was Carol, and she gave you a warm smile when she caught your eye. You beckoned her in after everyone else was gone, and she made her way shyly towards you with her arms behind her back.

The two of you had grown even closer over the last few months - all of you had. Though, you and Carol got along like a house on fire. She had the most brilliant sense of humor tucked away, and you were often lucky enough to get a glimpse of it when she felt mischievous. Daryl had given the pair of you the nickname 'dynamic duo' - and you thought that nothing could suit you both better.

"What are you doing here, Peletier?" You asked in a mock stern tone. "I don't remember giving you detention."

The woman smiled sheepishly at your teasing, before more confidently sitting down on your desk and stretching out her legs. From behind her back she brought out one hand, and placed a fresh, red apple over your paperwork. You laughed immediately, and so did she.

"I've always been a good student." She told you, with a grin. 

You hummed to yourself, unconvinced. You started to collect the loose sheets of paper from your students' tables, and the woman hopped off your own desk to help you. 

"I caught the end of your lesson. I hope you didn't mind me listening in." She admitted, and you shook your head in response. 

Normally, you got nervous if you were being observed. One time, Daryl dropped by to give you some supplies you'd asked for - and you'd gotten so red that the children made fun of you for the rest of the day. Yet, Carol's presence made you calm; she always was the one to have your back.

"They seem to really love you." The woman added, nonchalantly.

The compliment really did warm your heart. Even before the world ended, all you'd wanted was to gain the approval of your students. Except, that was the one thing that adults struggled to give.

"I just want to make it fun for them." You explained, picking up another hand-written story.

You could tell whose it was just by the handwriting. At this point, you'd gotten to know all of the children so well that they felt like part of your extended family; everyone in the prison did.

"I know they should be learning practical skills, too." You went on. "But I can't let them forget how to read and write."

You were mumbling to yourself, and barely noticed as Carol handed you the other half of the papers. You filed them all into a neat stack, and placed them onto your desk. Except, you now noticed a book sitting on it that hadn't been there before.

"I came to give you something." Carol said, pointing. "Well, to return something."

Your eyes widened as you read over the title. It was in pristine condition, with a shiny cover and an unbroken spine. 

"It's not the same copy." The woman explained. 

You could tell; it was much too neat to be the one you'd brought with you to Atlanta. That one had crinkled pages and a ripped cover even before you had leant it to Carol.

"I asked Daryl to keep an eye out for one on his travels." She admitted, and you perked up at the name. "Thought maybe you could read it to the kids one day."

You held the copy of The Little Prince in your hands, your eyes glancing over the delicate illustration of a young boy lost amongst the stars.

"Carol, you didn't have to do this-" you said quietly.

The woman cut you off before you could go on, nudging you gently with her shoulder.

"I did. I wanted to." She corrected, and you finally looked up to meet her eyes. "I'm sorry for what I did before." 

She said the words quietly, as though ashamed, and this time you were the one to elbow her back and shake your head. She gave a small smile.

"I liked the part with the fox." She told you. "Where he says that important things can only be seen with the heart, not the eyes."

You looked at Carol with a dumbfounded expression.

"I did read it, you know." She laughed.

So, the two of you did finally get to discuss the book together, just like you'd hoped to do all that time ago - back in the warm summer shade of the Greene farm.

When you spotted that mop of hair from across the courtyard, you knew instantly who it was. Well, the crossbow and that familiar leather jacket also gave him away. You started to run in his direction, before you spotted a group of your students and slowed down to an embarrassed jog. The man eyed you, and you could make out his taunting smirk even in the distance. 

It hadn't been that long since you'd last seen him, but your heart still ached to feel his arms around you. You never knew how lonely the nights could seem once you got used to sleeping besides someone you loved. 

You approached Daryl casually, feeling eyes on you. There were people working the fields, and others on the fences dispatching walkers. Even if they seemed busy, you weren't oblivious to their side-eye glances every now and then.

"Hey there, Stranger." You finally greeted the man. "Was starting to forget what your face looked like."

With the influx of survivors, Daryl had taken on even more responsibility than before. He was out for longer and home even less, but you knew it couldn't be any other way. You knew that - but it didn't stop you from resenting the fact.

"Too many damn mouths to feed." Daryl grumbled, pointing to the string of squirrels hanging from his belt. "These people are eatin' like kings." 

You laughed at that, thinking back to the last harsh winter where you'd all had to survive on some questionable meals, to say the least.

"Ah yes, the luxury of fresh squirrel." You teased, eyeing the dead animals strung up by their tails.

You made a face, and Daryl made one back.

"I'll give yers away if ya gonna keep bein' picky 'bout it." He warned, but it was much too light-hearted.

Still, you held your hands up in defence.

"Okay, okay." You replied, sending him a mischievous smirk. "I'm sorry."

The tension was thick between you, despite the banter. Even as dirty as he was, you wanted nothing more than to fall into the man and press a number of kisses to that face of his. Yet, you refrained. Maybe you could get him into the shower first, away from all these people as well.

"Just take a look at your hair, Dixon." You remarked, once you finally noticed it. "Are you growing it out for me? Because I said I had a thing for guys with long hair?"

It hung over his face, and he pushed the loose strands away from his eyes with the back of his hand. It suited him, but he was definitely in need of a good shampoo.

"Yer really pushin' yer luck today, aren't ya?" Daryl muttered, taking a step closer to you.

You couldn't hide the smile that had spread over your face. Even an exchange as simple as this left you beaming. There really was no one else who could make you laugh quite like Daryl Dixon.

"You've been gone for two days." You reasoned lightly, trying to hide the way it actually made you feel. "Am I not allowed to have missed you?"

He tended to tease you about it, so you tried not to make a big deal whenever he returned home. Yet, you failed every time. 

"What d'ya say?" Daryl asked, rubbing his ear.

He'd probably gotten mud stuck in there. It wouldn't surprise you - given how filthy he looked.

"I missed you." You repeated, begrudgingly.

Daryl narrowed his eyes, like he couldn't comprehend what you were saying in the slightest.

"Hmm?" He prompted, waiting for you to explain again.

You huffed and shook your head. You would be dragging him into the showers as soon as he got to the cell block.

"I miss-" you started, before the realisation kicked in.

You immediately slapped the man's chest with the back of your hand, and a smirk spread over his face.

"You're messing with me!" You yelled, and he shrugged his shoulders innocently - like he was completely oblivious.

You attempted to shove him again, but this time he caught your wrist and pulled you in close. Your chest hit his, and you felt the warmth you had been craving. You didn't care anymore about the curious stares, and it seemed that he didn't either. Daryl wrapped his arms around your waist, and you snaked your own over his neck to pull him down to you. 

Your noses touched, and you smiled against him. The two of you stayed like that for a few seconds, just taking in the sight of each other - and the feel. You could tell that you'd unintentionally gathered a bit of an audience. The new members of the community rarely got to see Daryl like this, so you often got quite a few looks whenever you were together - and a lot of follow-up questions when you were alone. You ran your fingers through the ends of his hair, that went all the way down to the base of his neck now.

"Well, if you're not going to let me cut it, the least you can do is let me braid it." You whispered, your face still close to his. 

You'd threatened it once before, but you were more adamant this time.

"Ya can fuck off." Daryl grumbled back, but somehow he managed to make it sound affectionate.

You laughed lightly, and finally gave him the shortest of kisses that only left him wanting more.

"I think the words you're looking for are 'I missed you, too'."

Daryl Dixon was a stubborn man. You'd realised it from the moment you met him. He was the type to stick to his guns, even if they weren't loaded. You'd seen him argue his way out of something even when he was wrong, and convince you of his viewpoint even when you were right. Daryl Dixon was stubborn - but he always cracked eventually when it came to you.

"Don' say nothin'." He snapped, and you bit your lip to hold back the laugh.

"I didn't say anything." You quipped, as naturally as you were able.

You plucked another daisy from out of the grass, and handed it to the child. She took it in her small fist, and threaded it through the man's hair - messily between the braids you'd given him.

"Yer face says it all." He grumbled, his own looking like thunder.

Daryl was sitting cross-legged on the ground, surrounded by a few of your younger students. They'd begged him to let them put flowers in his hair after eavesdropping on your earlier conversation, and you'd said yes before he could even reply. He was a stubborn man, but he was also a people pleaser.

"Mr. Dixon, what's your favourite flower?" Another girl asked politely, twiddling a bluebell stem between her fingers. "We'll see if we can find it."

You laughed, but quickly disguised it as a cough.

"Yes, Mr. Dixon." You chimed in. "What is it?"

If looks could kill, you'd be dead ten times over. Except, the man didn't look all that intimidating with stray daisies interwoven in his hair, and loose plaits that were in the midst of being braided by clumsy hands.

"Stop bein' a lil' shit." Daryl bit back.

Though, he immediately got punished for it.

"Teacher, he said a bad word!" One of the children exclaimed, pointing to Daryl like he was a shamed dog on the naughty step.

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your composure, and watched as the man did the same.

"Daryl Dixon, if you swear like that again we'll have to wash your mouth out with soap." You scolded, in your most teacher-like voice.

The children laughed their high-pitched laughs, and you could see a small fire burning behind the man's eyes.

"'M gonna murder ya in yer sleep." He mumbled below his breath.

You yanked on the strand of hair you were braiding, before half-heartedly apologising and claiming it to be an accident. Daryl flinched, and whipped his head around to glare at you.

"What the f-" he started, but you narrowed your eyes at him. "Frog." He finished, and you lost it.

You let out what was perhaps the most unattractive snort of your life, which was much too bold to be disguised as any sort of cough. You knew you'd pay hell for this later, but for now you just wanted to relish in the power. You had Daryl in the palm of your hand, his hair quite literally wrapped around your little finger. He turned to glance at you, but you tugged again - but more gently this time.

"Jus' watch what yer doin'." He reminded you, before muttering some more underneath his breath. "Are ya tryin' to scalp me?"

Somewhere in the midst of the exchange, Deputy Grimes has sauntered over with an expression equally as smug as the one you wore. He had Judith in his arms, resting over his hip, and looked down at Daryl with a grin as he approached. He was wordless, but when the two of you made eye contact it was hard to remain that way.

"Jus' don't." Daryl sighed, sounding completely defeated.

"I didn't say anything." The officer replied, and at this point you couldn't deny that there were tears in your eyes.

Daryl looked up at Rick and squinted from the sun. He shook his head.

"Yeah, yeah. Tha's what they all say."

Rick watched the exchange in amusement. It had been refreshing to see him so relaxed during the last few months. You thought that he really deserved a break - and it seemed that he was making the most of it by spending time with his children.

"What did you do this time?" The man asked Daryl.

He shrugged in response, before one of your students reminded him to keep still.

"Nothin'." He grunted, seeming to be at the end of his rope. "Dunno why 'm bein' tortured for feedin' the lot of ya."

The string of squirrels had been passed along to the cook before the children had all but seized Daryl and demanded that he played with them. You may have had some involvement in his kidnapping, but you were only a bystander, really.

"Quit complaining, you big baby." You reminded him, before tucking a flower behind his ear.

Daryl had a vacant stare, but it soon became a warm one when he noticed Judith making some gurgles and smiling in his direction. She had her arm outstretched towards him, and Rick lowered her down so that she could be closer to what she was reaching for. The baby smiled a gummy smile, and ever so gently patted Daryl's head - eyes wide at the array of colourful flowers there. The man stayed completely still and allowed her to do it, and you just watched. You wished you had Glenn's camera during moments like these.

Not long after, the officer said his goodbyes, and left with his daughter. She peeked over his shoulder at the two of you as they walked away, and it made your heart melt as you looked at her.

"She's so adorable." You said, to no one in particular. "I want one."

Daryl choked, and you smirked at him deviously.

"Just kidding." You admitted, as though you hadn't almost caused the man to have a heart attack.

Daryl spluttered again before standing up. Most of your students had left the two of you alone, having gotten bored during your chat with Rick. You watched as the man shook out his hair, letting the flower petals float to the ground like leaves from a tree. 

"Jesus Christ, woman." He muttered, looking in your direction. "Calm down, would ya?"

You smiled as you helped him untangle the braids.

"There's only so much a man can take in one day." He went on.

Before long, Daryl’s hair went back to looking just as messy as it had done before, and you once again prompted him that he needed a shower. So, the two of you headed back to the cell block, and you slipped your hand into his to also remind him of how much you'd missed him.

"You never did say which flower was your favourite." You said, once the thought came into your mind. 

You glanced over at the man as you walked, but he just gave a small shrug in response.

"Dunno." He said quietly. "Guess I like the yellow ones."

Despite wanting to spend the night alone with Daryl, cuddled up under blankets in your cell as you read him some imaginative hand-written stories, the two of you had been convinced otherwise. Usually, alcohol wasn't permitted inside the prison - something about productivity and sharing that you hadn't really paid much attention to. But, since a lot of people had just returned from a long run, an exception had been made so that you could celebrate. 

It was hardly anything, really. There was barely enough to go around to get you tipsy, let alone drunk, and there were only a dozen of you sitting around the campfire - taking swigs from your plastic cups. The spirits had been diluted to stretch it out a bit more, and you were reminded of being a teenager again, swapping out vodka for tap water so that your parents wouldn't notice. 

Even so, your body hadn't had alcohol in a while - not since the Jack Daniels you'd all polished off back at Hershel's farm. Already, your head felt fuzzy, and your laughs sounded giddier than you'd intended. You were all sitting on the ground, out in the field. It almost felt like that first night you'd cleared the prison - except so much had changed since then. Rather than tentatively holding Daryl's hand in the dark, when everyone else was asleep, you were now sat in between his legs as his arms held your waist. His chest was warm against your back, and you could feel it rise and fall regularly.

You could also smell the alcohol on his breath, but you didn't really mind. It was rare that Daryl did drink - even when it was available to him. You liked the fact that he could relax for once, since he always seemed to bear the burden of looking after everyone else.

"You two!" Tyreese shouted, catching your attention.

Across from you, the man sat beside his sister, Sasha. Vanessa was also next to them. Out of everyone here, you knew the three of them best. Admittedly, you hadn't got around to learning everyone else's names yet. 

You looked up, startled, and Daryl chuckled softly at the way you flinched in his arms. 

"How'd you meet?" The man asked, and offered a smile in your direction.

If there ever were such a packed question, it would have been that one. It was the type of question that required a whole book to answer - like one of the stories you'd set for your students to write. You glanced back at Daryl, only to find that he was already looking at you. He remained silent, so you raised an eyebrow at him before realising that you'd be the one answering.

"It was really romantic, actually." You spoke after a few seconds.

Everyone else's chatter had died down, and you suddenly felt very exposed as you became the centre of attention. Except, liquid courage always did work wonders where you were concerned. 

"The first time I met Daryl, he told me to fuck off and called me a mule." You announced, like you'd been waiting for the perfect moment to do so.

Your audience erupted with laughter, and you took in the looks of disbelief around the campfire - feeling satisfied with your choice of words. Except, it didn't last long. Daryl jabbed you in the ribs with his elbow, and you shot a glare back at him.

"Tha's not what happened." He argued, and everyone fell quiet once again to listen to what the man had to say.

It was rare that they got to see Daryl like this - letting loose and talking without being prompted to do so.

"Jus' fought off two walkers only to have some chick yelling at me, sayin gimme yer hand like the ghost of Christmas past or some shit." He explained, his voice more animated than you'd ever heard it. "Thought my time had come."

A few more chuckles could be heard in response, but Tyreese eventually spoke up.

"Can someone translate for them?" He asked, and it was then that you realised just how much detail you'd need to tell this story of yours.

So much had happened between you and Daryl that you'd need countless sheets of paper to recount it, unlimited words and a number of chapters. You leant back further into the man, deciding how to officially introduce it.

"Well, it all started with this yellow tent." You said, and the others listened.

You went on for a bit, taking sips of alcohol between your words. Everyone seemed enraptured by you, and it even seemed like Daryl was hearing the story for the first time, too. It felt strange to recount it in such a way, and it made you realise just how much had happened since the world had ended. 

You smiled as you finished, deciding to give one last summary to your captivated audience.

"So basically I pulled Daryl up from a cliff-face, then hauled his ass halfway across Georgia, before finally taking a bullet for him."

The alcohol had long since ran out, but everyone had stayed to hear the ending. Maybe you were oversharing, but spirits gave you loose lips - and you always did have a bad habit of running your mouth.

Tyreese started clapping slowly, before pointing at Daryl where he sat.

"You, brother, are one lucky man." He remarked with a smile.

You heard Daryl grumble something next to your ear, before addressing him back.

"She leaves out the part where she stuck 'er finger into my wound and sang outta tune next to me for three hours straight."

You bit your lip before finishing off what little was left of your drink.

"Minor details." You mumbled.

Some of the men you didn't know were murmuring amongst themselves beside you, but your head was too foggy to make out what they were saying. Perhaps Daryl could, since he had a scowl over his face. You didn't have time to question it, though, because Vanessa soon interjected with a laugh.

"So you're telling me that you now share a bed with the same guy who had walker ears around his neck when you first met him?" She teased, and you beamed back at her.

"Yeah-" you muttered, before sighing dramatically. "Sometimes I question my own judgement, too."

The walk back to your cell was more of a stumble, but no one had to know that. You and Daryl both made it there in one piece, so no further questions needed to be asked as to why you were missing a shoe, or who you'd tripped over along the way. It had seemed all fun and giggles, until you realised that it had been one-sided fun and entirely your own giggles.

Once you entered the room, you finally noticed how quiet Daryl had been. He toed his boots off wordlessly and threw his leather jacket into the corner. He knew how much that frustrated you, but he seemed too wrapped up in his own thoughts to care. 

You walked up to the man and snaked your arms around him from behind, so that your chest was pressed to his back. All day, you'd been craving for the two of you to just be alone - but now that you were, he seemed too agitated for his own good. You thought that you must have missed something, because Daryl definitely didn't seem like himself. 

You rubbed your palms along his chest slowly, but he stopped you with his own hand, and pulled away. He turned to face you, and you cocked your head to the side as you took in his expression. His eyes were narrowed, and he was chewing at his lip like he always did when he was confused. Eventually, he shook his head.

"Yer too good for me." He stated, like it was a fact. "'M a lucky man." He went on. "Why'd ya want someone who wore walker-"

"Whoa, slow down there." You cut him off. 

He was reciting all of the things that had been said over the campfire, you realised - except they'd all been playful jokes, and he knew that. The man sounded like a broken record, but you couldn't quite put your finger on what had made him break.

"Someone's had too much to drink." You reasoned, but raised an eyebrow as you did so.

You weren't convinced yourself, but you had no other explanation as to why he was blurting out the things that he was. Daryl was a big man, and the amount of alcohol he'd drank was nowhere near enough to get him drunk.

"'M fine." He confirmed, but you knew there was more going on. "Jus' the truth, s'all."

The man looked down at his feet as he spoke the words, and you sighed.

"We are not doing this again, Daryl." You warned, and took a step closer to him.

Ever since more people had been coming to the prison, Daryl had seemed to convince himself that there were plenty of better options available to you - all without consulting you about it, of course. It had gotten to the point where you'd snapped at him, almost a month back, and it had escalated into a fight. You understood where he'd been coming from - a few people had gotten a little too friendly with you on more than one occasion. But, you'd convinced him that you were right where you wanted to be, next to his side. 

You'd thought that had been the end of it, but something must have happened to bring it back to the surface.

"I see the way they all look at ya. Like they want ya." Daryl snarled, like he was seeing things that you couldn't. "They were talkin' 'bout it right in front of me."

And suddenly, it all made sense. The men you had noticed staring and mumbling had set Daryl off. You realised that he must have heard what they were saying - and that it must not have been good. Yet, part of you still felt frustrated that he had even listened to it. You'd spent the whole night recounting how you met the man, and how much he meant to you, only for your words to be completely unravelled by words of others that were insignificant.

"So?" You finally responded, more forcefully than you intended.

Daryl's head snapped up to look at you, and you met his eyes in return.

"I go through the same thing with you."

The man was silent for a few seconds, like he couldn't fully comprehend what you'd said.

"What?" He asked, and you shook your head.

"Just because you're blind to it, Dixon, doesn't mean that I am." You told him.

You placed your hands over his chest again, but this time he didn't shrug you off.

"They look up to you. You're a hero to a lot of these people." You explained, like you'd truly accepted the fact. 

You could feel the heat radiating off the man from underneath the tips of your fingers, and you took another step closer to him so that he could feel you, too.

"You don't think there's days that I hear women giggling about you? Talking about you like you're some knight in shining armour who rescued them from this world?" You said, chuckling a little as you did so.

At first, it had killed you to see. Every time you noticed someone staring at the man, or whispering about him when they thought you couldn't hear, it made your blood boil. But, after a while you became numb to it - mostly because Daryl never even spared them a second glance.

"It makes me feel pretty shitty, too." You admitted, as you let your fingers rest over the first button of his sleeveless shirt.

You looked upwards at him, and he gave you a small nod - so you started to unbutton it.

"But then I come back to our cell, and I'll see that you've left me flowers on our pillow." You went on, smiling in the direction of your mattress, where you had missed the man’s presence over the last few days. "Or I'll notice a new cassette tape in my walkman without you even saying anything."

You reached the last button, and shrugged the material over Daryl’s shoulders so that you could see his bare chest.

"And then I forget about all those other people." You confessed, and pressed your palm over his heart. "Because I'm reminded everyday that you're mine."

Daryl immediately placed his hand over the back of yours, and squeezed it gently. 

"I'm yours." He agreed, and this time leant down to give you a kiss of his own without being prompted.

It was soft, but you'd missed the feel of him - and it made you impatient. You could taste the alcohol on his lips, and so you broke away before you became too intoxicated by it.

You hooked your fingers around his belt loops and pulled his body closer to yours - so close that his bare chest was warm against you, and you could feel his heart pounding.

"Then show me." You said, and he did.

A/N: So every time I write a chapter of HCtS, I delete the notes for it from my masterplan - and I’m getting so emotional seeing it get smaller and smaller each week. We’re coming to the end and I can’t deal-

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[stillness-in-green]

Since Shouto and Dabi have both said heteromorphic things in the past (and notably towards people who have animal heads) my first thought is that they learned it from Endeavor. Touya idolized him and he was a constant presence in Shouto’s life. We know that Endeavor has a horse heteromorph sidekick but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t still be ignorant and say microagressive things in front of his kids. Wish we saw more of that sidekick so that I could have a better idea on where Endeavor stands and how that could affect the views of his sons.

Another thought is that they could have learned from their mother. We know she grew up in both prestige and tradition and that can sometimes breed ignorance, discomfort, or even unjust fear/hate of the other. You can be a kind person but still have these feelings that were fed to you by your family and most likely your peer group growing up. Some people can see that it’s wrong right away while others may need something more to change. I could see therapy helping this change. I think a different kind of school environment and making friends is where Fuyumi and Natsuo could go, Hey hold on a sec… while Shouto and Dabi wouldn’t have the friends to check them on their “harmless” language.

For now, I’m inclined to think that they got it from Endeavor, but until we get evidence, I’m not ruling out the possibility of Rei. Or both… And before someone comes at me about Rei, her possibly being heteromorphobic in the past doesn’t mean she would be any less of an abuse victim. It would only mean that she’d have her own flaws she’d need to work on.

Endeavor’s horse heteromorph sidekick is the number one I want more info on, yeah. He’s so neat-looking. Cannot believe we have names for three out of the four and the coolest looking one is the odd man out. God.

What’s that? You wanted More Thoughts On Heteromorphobia and the Todorokis? For that, hit the jump.

Who the oldest and youngest Todoroki sons picked up that particular bad habit from is an interesting question! Often, when I’ve seen people talking about that trait as a consistent thing, there’s been a lot of prevaricating about how it’s not actually a problem, it’s just reading too much into things, and anyway, they don’t mean it, and it’s not really showing bias anyway, and and and… Just a lot of circular, desperate nonsense from people who can’t stand the idea that their goodest boy Shouto and/or comfort character Dabi might possibly have one of the flaws that tumblr agrees is Bad (Bad) instead of Bad (Sexy).

Accordingly, they tend to wind up on, “And if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s Endeavor’s,” with the unspoken sense that, because it must be Endeavor’s fault, no one is allowed to hold his sons responsible for the shit they say.

But it’s always struck me as very notable that Endeavor doesn’t say anything like that, not ever, as far as I recall. Yeah, his equine-esque sidekick would be a good place to demonstrate that one way or another, but I think we already have some evidence in Endeavor’s relatively extensive interactions with Hawks. Endeavor never calls Hawks anything bird-related; even when he’s angry at Hawks for wasting his time or being flippant, the worst he calls him is “boy.”

It’s difficult to prove a negative, of course; absence of evidence is not evidence of absence and all that. Endeavor might well have made comments about heteromorphs in ignorance before and the audience just hasn’t seen it. One thing that strikes me as a possibility is that, if referring to an animal-associated heteromorph as the animal they resemble is regarded as Inappropriate, it’s possible that Endeavor has simply learned not to say that sort of thing at work, because it hurts his ratings, or he’s been made to take sensitivity training or what have you. If that were the case, he might still make comments like that at home that Touya or Shouto might have picked up on.

That’s still proving a negative, though; indeed, it’s actually on shakier ground because it’s trying to prove Endeavor does say things we’ve never seen him say, as opposed to proving he doesn’t say things we’ve never seen him say. The only evidence that he does is the fact that two of his sons do, but—as you mentioned, anon—there are, in fact, other places they could have picked up that habit.

Rei is one possibility, for all the reasons you outlined. She’s from an old, traditional family, one that still goes in for arranged marriages. While the family had fallen on hard times financially by the time Rei was an adult, they’re still old money, with everything that could potentially carry with it in terms of bias about in-groups, out-groups, and outdated notions about judging about a person via their quirk.

I don’t think it’s Horikoshi’s intent, really, but if we’re running with the idea, it’s also worth noting that Natsuo’s (presumed) girlfriend is a heteromorph, but for some reason, he not only hasn’t mentioned her to his mom, but blushes and deflects in front of her when Fuyumi brings up the possibility of his having met someone. It’s hard to argue that he’s trying not to disturb his mother with anything new or different when he himself brings up Endeavor moments later, surely a more upsetting topic—unless he has reason to suspect his mom will have a negative reaction to his girlfriend.

Again, I don’t seriously think that Rei is intended to be read as heteromorphobic. But surely there’s at least as much evidence that her sons get it from her as there is that they get it from Dad? As anon said, she could have attitudes she picked up from her family and that doesn’t make her any less an abuse victim! But nor does being an abuse victim absolve her of those attitudes, if she does have them, any more than Dabi or Shouto should be regardless of which parent, if either, they got their views from.

Of course, one thing that doesn’t tend to get brought up in these discussions—two things, really—is Fuyumi and Natsuo’s behaviors. Of course, they’re much more minor characters, but we’ve never heard either of them say anything like Shouto and Dabi have, and, indeed, Natsuo is almost certainly actually dating a heteromorph, albeit one with relatively few animal features in the one picture of her we’ve seen. So what can we gather from that?

Well, let me circle back to the idea that Endeavor has been in the public spotlight long enough to know not to say certain things. Fuyumi and Natsuo, I think, would be in a similar position in their respective careers. Fuyumi is a teacher; Natsuo is studying to be a doctor. It’s easy to imagine they may have had opportunities—direct experience, seminars, dedicated lessons, even full courses—that have given them the chance to learn better. This would be the case regardless of which parents any bias they might have had came from.

Shouto, meanwhile, has neither his father’s experience in the field nor his siblings’ educational background; he’s just got a spartan life of extreme training and no real friends made until high school. Dabi, meanwhile, has, barring any surprises about his missing decade, been on the streets for ten years. Frankly, he could get his tendency to call people animals from neither parent, but just existing for ten years between the cracks and in the dregs of society. Hell, Shouto could have picked it up from all that TV he watched with Rei as a child.

Lots of possible factors, no solid answers. I’m not particularly expecting that to change, but who knows. No telling who’s going to be around to weigh in on whatever kind of Heteromorph Uprising Spinner is off rustling up while the heroes are distracted with AFO & Friends.

Thanks for the ask!

[sepublic]

          If Escaping Expulsion ends with Luz and the others staying expelled from Hexside, I’m of course going to be depressed. For Willow and Gus it’s one thing, but also…

          For Luz, Hexside was something special to her, it meant a lot. It wasn’t just some fun place… In a way, it was almost like another home to her alongside the Owl House! Someplace she could be happy, a place with other friends she could look forward to, a place where Luz could reliably expect not just Willow and Gus, but Amity, the Detention Kids, etc.! 

         Hexside is a place where she’s accepted by peers her age, by society in a sense; Where Luz can interact with strangers, meet new people, and not have to immediately brace herself for rejection, thanks to the reputation and work she earned from being brave and mature!

          If anything, Luz can meet others, and expect love and support- People know Luz! Hexside is a place where the default opinion of Luz is actually pretty decent, thanks to her accomplishments at Grom, and her own victory at Grudgby! 

         Hexside is a place where Luz can learn and pursue her interests without having to worry about Eda, just all to herself- A monument to her own effort to earn multi-track learning, but also to Eda’s effort… Luz’s own presence at Hexside is proof that somebody else cares for her, enough to go out of their way and work for this. To get Luz this special, extra thing, even when it’s not necessary, just for Luz’s happiness and extra fulfillment, so she can get the best of anything!

          Hexside is also kind of a remedy of Luz’s past with traditional school; School, but done right, healed and fixed. A school experience that has replaced the negative associations like bullying and loneliness, getting called to the principal’s office, and instead replaced them with something good and positive!

         It’s a new set of experiences that has conquered Luz’s usual past and trauma with school, proven to her that things CAN be different, that it CAN work out for her, and she’s not JUST a freak- That she can indeed engage with the rest of society, and not just cut herself off from it entirely! She doesn’t have to be just alone… Luz doesn’t need wide acceptance, but it sure feels nice, and in a sense I think she got that at Hexside. Got to interact with other kids just like her, in an immediately positive, default manner.

          …But of course, Odalia and Alador took that from her. Luz just wants to be accepted, to feel like there isn’t something inherently wrong with her, and what they’re doing… It sends a different kind of message, forces her out. Violently and suddenly uproots everything Luz is familiar with, when she’s settled and finally relaxed and lowered her guard, and genuinely started to believe that she’s good and lovable and deserves nice things, that nice things WILL come to her! That she doesn’t always have to fight tooth and nail for that, just to constantly assert her worth and dignity as a person. Odalia and Alador took that from her, and even if Luz KNOWS that people do still like her there, that this is really just the effort of two prejudiced people who are hardly representative of anything worthwhile;

          It still of course hurts to be cut off like that, so forcibly. So suddenly. To have that barred, to have all of that opportunity and wondrous future, all of the possibilities and future interactions and potential friends that Luz had considered; To have that irreversibly, definitively taken away from her, out of some cruel spite for the very person she is, out of a disgust for that… That Luz’s own nature brought this about, in a sense.

         And even if Luz does enroll at another school like say Glandus, or is content with her home lessons with Eda… It still sucks to have that taken from her. To have someone tear apart such a huge portion of her life like that, to have that agency taken away from her. To just lose all of that, and all of the happy memories she had, and could’ve looked forward to… It’s all so frustratingly selfish of Odalia and Alador! 

         Hexside was a place where Luz made her mark, left a legacy, and now she can no longer interact with that, she’s been forcibly exiled, and it no doubt reminds her of the loneliness she’s used to back home. Luz feels like an outcast again, like she’s been rejected once more by a place that was home, or could have or should’ve been.

         Schools are supposed to be a safe place for kids, a place they can thrive- And now it was forcibly twisted into something hostile for Luz, yet again, when previously she thought that the change she made, really could’ve made a lasting difference. And of course what memories she DID make at Hexside still matter… But it would’ve been nice for things to stick around for once, for Luz to not have to brace herself for losing things. For once, it would’ve been neat for things to be nice and stay that way, to stay consistently safe for her, for Luz to not have to worry about the future or change or anything. She’s never taken that for granted, so why can’t she have that?

          Stuff like Hexside SHOULD be there for Luz, always, a kid deserves something to rely and depend on, to trust. And Odalia and Alador… They’re breaching that trust, because they can’t even keep their abuse within their own family, and have to attack others outside of it as well, people just minding their own business- It’s borderline intrusive and invasive, and makes people feel unsafe, that they can’t even mind their own business in their own space… 

         Now they have to actively defend that, keep others out when otherwise they could openly be invited in, and they were already so lonely to begin with. If they couldn’t have others with them, can they not at least have this particular space to themselves, without having to worry about others coming after them- Why can’t people like Luz, or Willow, or Gus or Eda or Amity, just be left alone!? Why can’t they just BE themselves, if it’s not actively harming anyone else?

          But of course, people like Odalia and Alador, or Belos, that’s not enough- And they’ll always need that kind of control, to project onto others like that. To decide for others, as part of some twisted entitlement on how things should be, for THEIR own sake really. And it’s because of people like them, that people like Luz, can’t just get nice things, have nice things, and keep them.

[usergreenpixel]

JACOBIN FICTION CONVENTION MEETING 4: IN THE REIGN OF TERROR: THE ADVENTURES OF A WESTMINSTER BOY(1888)

1. The Introduction

Well hello there again, dearest readers! I’m back at it again and this time I brought you something more obscure.

Honestly, I would’ve never found out about this book had I not seen the category for books set in the French Revolution era on Wikipedia after a deliberate google search.

“In the Reign of Terror” is an adventure novel aimed at young boys that was published in 1888 by one G. A. Henty, an English novelist who has other adventure novels to his name too, but today we’ll only take a look at this one.

It’s available on Project Gutenberg in the ebook format and is in public domain so it’s free to download, which is how I obtained the book.

2. The Summary

The book takes place in the French Revolution era, specifically from 1790 to about 1792. It tells the story of Harry Sandwith, a boy whose physician father sends him from London to Burgundy to live with Marquis de St. Caux and his family.

As the brother of the Marquis had been cured by Harry’s father during his stay in London, the entire arrangement was his idea. The Marquis himself also believes that by having an English companion, his sons can learn a lot about English customs while Harry learns the language and the traditions of France.

But as the Revolution is drawing nearer than ever, clouds gather above the heads of Harry’s host family and Harry himself...

This is the basic premise of the story, but how did the finished product turn out? Let’s find that out for ourselves, Citizens!

3. The Story

Now, at first the story itself seems a bit implausible on the level of the premise. The Marquis believes that his sons should learn a thing or two about masculinity and sports from Harry, as English boys are supposedly more manly than their “feminine” French peers.

I find it hard to believe that a French nobleman would think this way but I was still willing to suspend my disbelief somewhat because Anglophiles do exist and despite the rivalry between France and the UK, the two countries did borrow bits and pieces of culture from each other.

Here’s the part that gave me pause and kind of ruined the experience for me. The entire book reeks of a sense of English superiority. Harry, the main character, is English and is portrayed as the bravest, strongest and most masculine member of the cast, while his French companions, Ernest and Jules, the sons of the Marquis, are basically treated like feminine “sissies”.

(Spoiler alert!)

For example, in the beginning of Harry’s adventures, the daughters of the Marquis are attacked by a rabid dog and who saves them? Harry, of course. This is one of the instances where the author demonstrates how strong English boys are and this is the moment after which Harry is finally seen as an equal by the noble siblings.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m all for patriotism and taking pride in your country. I’m Russian and proud of it. However, too much pride and you get this obnoxious sense of superiority. If you need a prime example of how that usually plays out, look at the Axis during WW2.

What Henty chooses to portray is specifically a sense of superiority. Characters like Harry’s father take pride in the fact that England has less strict class divisions, that apparently English commoners have already obtained more liberties while the French peasants are merely a mob of bloodthirsty savages, etc.

Don’t know about you, Citizens, but I really don’t like such narratives shoved in my face and considering how often this nationalism shows up, I had a lot of trouble getting through the story.

I’m all for healthy patriotism that acknowledges the good and the bad in one’s country but this is just too much nationalism for me and I believe that the book would’ve been more enjoyable without this narrative showing up every couple of pages or so like jumpscares in a bad horror movie.

4. The Characters

I know this was the 19th century so the audiences were probably not pampered with complex stories and characters as much yet, but honestly I didn’t find Harry a truly likable and relatable protagonist.

(Spoiler alert!)

He starts out as a pretty average school student but while in France he proves to be heroic - killing a rabid dog, slaying a man eating wolf (not completely by himself) and generally always proving himself to be the manly hero that Ernest and Jules can never be. Basically it was easy to predict that he will emerge from any trouble victorious so I didn’t have many reasons to be worried about him.

The sons and the daughters of the Marquis all end up liking him. Too much may I add.

In short, I personally got a bit of Harry Stu vibe. 😉

He does have one glaring flaw that unfortunately doesn’t do him any favors in my eyes. The English superiority complex that the author expresses in the story shines in Harry brighter than the Sun. He doesn’t express much empathy either.

(Spoiler alert!)

When Harry saves a man from getting attacked by an assassin and sees that the man is scared out of his mind, the first thing Harry feels towards him is disdain for apparently being a “pussy”. Um, hello, Harry?! How would you react if you got attacked out of the blue! Not everyone is as “strong and manly” as you are!

Then Harry also regrets saving the man when it turns out to be Robespierre. Our protagonist, dear Citizens!

Speaking of Robespierre, here (and this goes for most French characters) he is portrayed as a weak feeble “sissy”, thirsty for blood but neat and frugal in outfit and lifestyle, someone who won’t hesitate to have half of France slaughtered. Of course. 🙄

The female characters are bland helpless ingénues. Also typical of the literature of the time period.

By the way, Robespierre is the only revolutionary who is actually featured in the story. Marat and Danton are mentioned but it’s all negative in their department too, especially when it comes to Marat.

The Parisian crowd is little more than a bloodthirsty mob of savage uneducated peasants ready to slaughter all nobles just because they’re well, nobles.

Honestly, nothing new here.

5. The Setting

Honestly, I feel like there weren’t that many descriptions and those that were present simply weren’t vivid enough to immerse myself into the story. Too many descriptions are bad too, of course, but here the opposite happens - too little descriptions so sometimes the surroundings feel like vacuum and there’s not enough world building to imagine yourself in that era, beside the characters.

It’s all just bland caricatured setting one would expect from an amateur puppet show at daycare.

Remember, dear Citizens. Even if you write about your own era and country, world building is extremely important so please don’t underestimate the power of good and vivid descriptions, just use them in moderation.

Anyway, onto the final point.

6. The Conclusion

Despite all the drawbacks, I didn’t quite hate the book. I simply think it could’ve been written a lot better, without shoving the supposed superiority of England in our faces, without bland characters, without the unlikeable protagonist, without cardboard settings and definitely without machismo and layers upon layers of Thermidorian propaganda.

I wouldn’t recommend this story unless you really want to kill time and have nothing else to do.

With that in mind, allow me to conclude the fourth meeting of our Convention. Stay tuned for the announcement of the topic of the next meeting and have a good day, Citizens.

Love,

- Citizen Green Pixel

[fandom-puff]

Malfoy!Reader dating Fred Weasley

Requested by: anon

AN: I put the reader as a slytherin bc... malfoys... and at age eleven she wanted to be in the same house as her brother, her dad etc. Also, reader is draco’s twin so their relationship didn’t start when she was too young. Also, this is a bit of an AU, so Fred doesn’t die lol

Gif creds to owner

Warnings: swearing, Lucius and Draco being quite prejudiced, references to sex but no actual getting jiggy with it

You had always thought Fred snd george were funny, and had been rather sad when they left school in your fifth year

Of course, you didn’t let on to Draco, as he would certainly tell mother (he was rather a mummy’s boy, but you couldn’t point that out to him, as he would just tell you that you’re a daddy’s girl)

You spent your summer daydreaming, sitting in the gardens in the manor or gazing out of your window

Your mother was beginning to talk about arranging a marriage for you (she had been in one, as had Aunt Bella, as well as most traditional pure bloods), but you brushed off every suitor she suggested, with increasingly ridiculous excuses

“Oh, honestly, YN, if you carry on like this, mother and father will have to marry you off to blood traitors like the Weasleys,” Draco teased, and you tensed up slightly

“Oh shut it, Draco, at least theyre one of the only pure blooded families that don’t fuck their cousins and force their daughters into arranged marriages,” you huffed, storming off to your bedroom

Several days later, your mother came to your room and asked if you were coming to diagon Alley with her and Draco

You agreed, and while Draco and narcissa were fussing over robes in madam malkin’s shop, you slipped away to check out the brand new Weasley shop

It was wonderful, and you quickly got distracted by all the colours and sounds and displays

That was until a second year bolted past you and caused you to stumble up some steps, but a strong hand grabbed your arm, stopping your fall

“Oi! Watch it- nearly broke this lovely girl’s neck!” He shouted, before leaning down to you. “You alright? Oh. Well if it isn’t Miss Malfoy,” he grinned, without malice.

“Yeah... Draco’s getting his robes fitted and I couldn’t be arsed listening to his whining. I... I really love the shop,” you said bashfully. “Be careful though, Filch will be banning postal orders to the school,” you grinned, and you settled into easy conversation as Fred took you on a tour of the shop

Ron, Harry, hermione and George watched with dropped jaws

Eventually, you had to leave, to stop your mother and brother from getting suspicious

On the train to hogwarts, you sat with Draco and Blaise and Pansy (And you had to stop yourself from gagging at pansy’s simpering)

Draco made a comment on the weasleys finally having a bit of gold yet still wearing their ‘tat’

“Enough, Draco. Money doesn’t define people’s worth” you snapped

“Ugh, don’t tell me you fancy one of them, YN,”

“Ha! Which one, they breed like rabbits!” Palsy chimed in.

“I’ve had enough of this,” you said, and went to go and sit elsewhere

The argument was forgotten w little while later, and a few weeks into term, a small barn owl landed in front of you, dropping a letter, addressed to ‘the loveliest Malfoy’

You hurried off to read the letter, which was an invite from Fred to the three broomsticks on the next hogsmeade weekend and the rest, as they say was history.

Your relationship with Fred remained a secret for several months up until the Christmas holidays, when you returned from Fred’s with a rather impressive love bite just beneath your ear that you hadn’t noticed before you left

Your mother knew something was off instantly- you looked a little more... serene than usual, your hair (which you had left the house in a neat braid) was loose and slightly tousled

Her suspicions were confirmed when at dinner, you tucked your hair behind your ear, and Draco’s fork clattered to the floor.

“Bloody hell, YN!” He said, smirking. “Thought you said you went shopping with Astoria and Pansy!”

You frowned, but then quickly realised, trying to sweep your blonde hair back over the hickey, but your father had stood up from the head of the table and marched over to you, grabbing your chin and tilting your head to the side.

“Who did this, YN?” He asked, seething at the idea of someone taking advantage of his little girl. “Tell me, YN,”

You gulped and looked away, your father sighing, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We will discuss it after dinner in my study,”

Draco smirked deviously, eating quicker so he could get in on the action

“Alone,” Lucius said pointedly.

After dinner, your mother healed the bruise with magic and walked you to Lucius’s study.

The three of you say together in silence for a moment, before your father spoke.

“Was it Zabini?” You shook your head

“Crabbe? Goyle? I swear, I will tear them limb from-“

Narcissa placed a hand on his knee soothingly, turning to you. “Who was it, darling?”

“Fred Weasley,” you whispered, hanging your head. “I-I’m sorry, father. We’ve been seeing eachother for months, writing and... well, I went to see him today. I’m sorry I lied about going shopping, but I knew you’d never let me leave the house if you knew...”

Lucius sighed slightly and narcissa frowned between her husband and her daughter, nodding slowly.

“Right,” Lucius said. “YN. Come. I need to have a word with Arthur Weasley,”

You looked at your mother desperately. “Don’t worry darling,” she murmured, eyes twinkling, and you nodded, following your father to the apparition point

***

“Bloody hell... is that... is that malfoy?”

Ron and Harry ran to the sitting room, where Arthur was reading.

“Dad... you’ll never guess... Lucius malfoy’s coming up the path!”

Arthur sighed and sent the boys upstairs, opening the door

“Lucius,” he greeted, tone a little tense.

Your father’s lips curled into a slight smirk as he gestured to you.

“My daughter revealed something rather surprising to me today, Arthur,” he said and you worried your lip. “She told me that she had been seeing one of your sons behind my back,”

Arthur stared at you, eyes narrowing slightly. You looked very nervous.

“I... didn’t know Ron was seeing anybody,” he said hesitantly

Lucius was about to speak again, but your cut him off. “No... not Ron, Mr Weasley, sir. Er... I’ve been seeing Fred,”

“I think you’d best come in, both of you. Molly!”

Ten minutes later you were settled at the scrubbed kitchen table, sipping tea in an uncomfortable silence as Lucius and Arthur stared at eachother challengingly.

You looked over at Mrs weasley apologetically and she smiled kindly, reaching over to squeeze your hand to reassure you

“Honestly, two grown men trying to stare eachother down like fourth years!” She huffed, flinging a handful of floo powder into the fire, leaning down to speak into it. “Fred Weasley, you had better come through this fireplace in the next ten seconds!” She called

Pretty soon Fred was stumbling through, grinning

His eyes softened when he saw you and widened when he saw your father

“Er... have a... nice Christmas, Mr Malfoy?” He asked awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as you mentally facepalmed.

Lucius stood up and drew his wand

You gasped, grabbing his arm. “Dad no!” You cried, looking at him pleadingly as he marched over to Fred, backing him into the wall with his wand at his throat. Arthur’s wand was also drawn while Molly shook her head

“If you ever hurt my daughter,” your father said in a low, silky voice. “If you break her heart, cause her harm or force her to do anything, I will kill you, Weasley. If I hear that you have used, abused or manipulated my little girl, I will personally see to it that you are never seen or heard from again. Do you understand?”

Fred nodded, eyes wide

Lucius quickly moved away, putting his wand back into its holder. “Well,” he said. “Now that that nasty business is taken care of,” he offered his hand to Arthur, who (after a hard glare from Mrs weasley) shook it.

Molly then turned to Fred herself and said “if I hear that you hurt YN in any way, it won’t just be Mr Malfoy you’ll have to deal with, Fred Weasley,” she said menacingly, wagging her finger at him.

Fred nodded.

As your parents went outside to discuss a sort of truce, you went to Fred, wrapping your arms around his middle, nuzzling into his chest.

From outside, your parents saw your loving embrace, your gentle kiss, the way Fred cupped your cheek and pushed your hair out of your face so he could kiss your forehead gently, molly sighed happily. “He’ll look after her,” she murmured

Both fathers spoke at once

“He’d better.”

Tag List: @a-hopeless-fan @lotsoffandomrecs @justanotherwildstar @kashishwrites @rai-strangebr @zodiyack @haphazardhufflepuff @dumbfuckinslytherin @severuslovebot @darkthought15 @strawberriesonsummer

[broadstflyers]

A/N: Alright, here it is! Chapter two. Thanks for the support on the first chapter! As always, you can add yourself to the tag list for this series or give constructive feedback here. This chapter is still in the past tense. This one is a longer chapter, sorry! Although I have a feeling most chapters will be this long. If you like this series and want to read more, give it a like or reblog or pop into my asks, it encourages me to continue. any feedback is appreciated :)

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: None

Summary: They say at fourteen you’re too young to know you’re in love. But what if you aren’t?

Navigation: chapter one

October

Grade: 9

Age: 14

---------------------------------

Ever since that class, you and Joel became inseparable whenever you were within talking distance. You just seemed to gravitate towards him, and he seemed to do just the same. When you needed a pep-talk before a big test, he was there. Whenever you needed a laugh, he was there. He seemed to just always be there. He even noticed when your hands started to slightly shake before a quiz or test. How would he respond? He’d do what any nice, respectful, and caring teenage boy would do: goof off. The way he did so was completely up to how rambunctious he was feeling that day.

Would he throw crumpled up paper at his friends and just smile as the teacher yelled at him?

Or try and balance the close by meter-stick on his head (that was soon taken away after)?

Or would he possibly take a different turn and re-explain a topic you were still shaky on?

He was just unpredictable in that sense.

Now how were you feeling about this newly kind Joel?

“Your face is the reddest I think I’ve ever seen it,” Luna teased while you both walked out of the classroom after the bell rang, “and if I held up my bright red backpack to it, I don’t know which one would be redder.” She was on a roll that day.

You scratched your eyebrow in a lame attempt to hide your glowing cheeks. See, on that day, Joel decided to calm your nerves by drawing a star on your hand. Yes, your hand. It went sort of like this:

Your right hand was resting on the table so the back of your hand was facing Joel, who was also on your right. He was messing around with an orange marker, threatening to draw it on his friend just a table over.

“Draw one on y/n,” the friend slyly suggested with a devilish smirk. Joel’s eyes widened to the size of hockey pucks and he whipped his head around to look at you. He glanced down at the marker and then regained his cool facial expression.

Meanwhile your blood ran cold and your head started to pound uncontrollably. You glance at Luna and she nods vigorously. You ball your hand into a fist and shakily stick it out, the adrenaline causing your hearing to slightly go. He offers a light smile, and you swear you can see him slightly exhale from relief. He positions the marker in his hand to get a good grip on it, because if he was going to draw on your hand, it had to be perfect.

He rested his hand under yours to hold it steady. Yes, his hand. He cleanly knocked the breath out of your lungs. You could feel the warmth radiate from his hand. He carefully and neatly (well as neat as a fourteen year old boy can) draws an orange star on the center of your balled up fist.

When his hand finally let go of yours, the touch felt too brief but also like forever.

You literally wanted to jump out of your skin. A mix of different colors felt as though they were swirling around your head in an intense blur. You wanted to throw up color and those sickeningly sweet feelings.

At this point, unlike the first time you guys were civil to each other, you surpassed the point of being screwed.

No. As soon as he touched your hand, you knew one thing for certain: you were in love with Joel Farabee.

“Now that’s one perfect good luck charm,” he says with a smirk.

Man, you just wanted to kiss that stupid smirk. That stupid yet adorable smirk….

And that’s how you ended up almost falling over in the hallway with Luna. In the hallway, she takes your hand and looks at the perfectly messy star.

“You’ve got that boy head over heels for you,” she sassed and laughed.

You playfully shoved her, but your heart skipped a beat.

You couldn’t help but wonder, did you really?

---------------------------------

“LOVE?” Luna practically yelled in your room. Your parents let you guys hang out after school that very same day because it was yet another Friday. Which is how you ended up with Luna screaming at you on your bedroom floor.

“SHHHHH,” you aggressively said as you tried to calm her down. You pointed downstairs to your parents. You had told them earlier that Luna drew the star on, not Joel. They didn’t even know Joel existed.

“Sorry,” she whispered, “but LOVE? You’re in love with him? Are you sure? Aren’t we too young for that? At least, that’s what my mom says.”

You sigh deeply. “Look, I know, Luna. But there’s just something so different about him. Something I can’t explain.”

“Okay, but you also haven’t liked more than two people,” Luna counters, “and we’re fourteen.”

“But have you looked into someone’s eyes before and felt safe? Have you wanted to cling onto them and never let go? You’ve got to listen to me, these feelings are so intense that I want to throw them up in a glittery mess. He runs in circles around my mind 24/7. I wonder how his hugs feel, I wonder how I would act if I met his parents.” You pause for a moment and stare her in the eyes.

“I barely understand how I feel, myself,” you whisper. “I am so screwed, Luna, but I don’t care.”

Her face relaxes and she slowly nods her head. She breaks out into a smile.

“I hear you,” she calmly states as she takes one of your hands. “I will be here with you while we figure this out, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod in a soft whisper tone.

Maybe it was the cumulation of him constantly caring for you in his own way. Maybe it was the way he never made dumb jokes at the expense of your feelings. Maybe it was the way talking to him came so easily and naturally to you, like you’ve known him for lifetimes. Or maybe it was just the fact that you were young, like Luna said.

But you knew deep down you couldn’t wholeheartedly buy into that logic.

Because in the end, you knew you were right.

---------------------------------

You turned fifteen on November 25, so you’re always exactly three months older than Joel, which he definitely did not appreciate. He found out when the teacher wished you a premature Happy Birthday the day before Thanksgiving Break.

“I cannot believe you,” he said in a mockingly defensive manner.

“Joel, I can’t exactly control when I was born you know,” you jokingly shot back. The playful banter was your favorite part of the day. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t look forward to it now.

“Well, how am I supposed to wish you a happy birthday when we won’t be in class?” He dramatically pouted.

I could give you my number, you thought. You’d never actually say that, though.

Suddenly, he turned and snatched a random piece of paper from one of his friends, and judging by the sharp “Hey!” that came out of the friend’s mouth, it probably was of some sort of importance. He grabbed your pencil and borderline slammed them down in front of you.

“Here, write down your number and all of our problems will be solved.”

Did he just? Did what you think just...happen? Fourteen year old you was absolutely dumbfounded.

“Sure,” you said as nonchalantly as possible, when in reality you were about to black out.

You scribbled down your number and handed it to him.

He opened his mouth to say something, but the bell rang, and you both scrambled for your things in the midst of chaos.

“I will be looking forward to that birthday wish,” you called out as he headed for the door. At first, you didn’t think he heard you, but at the last moment, he turned around and winked before stepping out the door.

You would have melted onto the floor if it wasn’t for Luna squealing in your ear like it was a holiday morning.

November 25 couldn’t come soon enough. Yes, you were excited to turn fifteen, but now you had another reason.

The question was, was that a good thing?

---------------------------------

November 25

Age: 15

Grade: 9

You woke up on your birthday morning with adrenaline coursing through your veins. After a fun Thanksgiving with family the day before, you were excited to finally celebrate your birthday with just your mom and dad, like you always did.

You’d be lying if you said the first thing you checked was not your phone. But, It was the first thing you reached for on your nightstand. Not your glasses, like normal.

You quickly scrolled through your notifications looking for an unknown number. There’s a text from your aunt, uncle, grandma, grandpa, cousins. Your heart sank when you reached the end. Nothing from him.

You placed your phone down and shook your head to clear out the negative energy that engulfed your body.

It was your birthday, you weren’t going to let anyone ruin this day for you. Even him.

---------------------------------

It was after dinner, which was your absolute favorite meal. You had gone to the mall with your mom and dad for some birthday shopping, a tradition you were very grateful for.

On the way home, you were happily thinking about the new outfits you were gifted, until your phone buzzed. Your heart quickened.

Luna!!: did he text you yet?

You exhaled sharply.

You: no, he hasnt :(

Thanks for the reminder, Luna.

Luna!!: bummer. i’m sure he will soon.

Luna!!: he’d be an idiot not to, don’t worry, love!

You mindlessly stared out the window of the back seat, hoping the blur of the trees would take your mind off of him.

You could sense your dad glancing at you using the rearview mirror.

You turned to look at him. “What?”

“Everything okay?” He asked.

You plaster a huge smile on your face and say yes, of course, because your parents have done so much for you that day that you should have been fluttering from happiness. You mean, you were happy. You couldn’t have been more thankful. Your heart just yearned for him to fulfill his promise.

Because you didn’t know what school was going to be like if he didn’t, and you weren’t ready to face that reality.

---------------------------------

That night, you brushed your teeth and got ready for bed. Your heart felt heavier each time you checked your phone and “No Older Notifications” was displayed instead of seeing the one you longed for. You glanced at your clock on your nightstand. The bright red numbers glared at you. It was close to 11:00.

You sighed and spun your phone around in your hands as you thought. Call it delusion, but you refused to put your phone down. You knew he was going to follow through.

Did you know why you knew? Not a clue.

Without warning, your phone vibrated in your hands. You couldn’t have flipped it upright faster if you tried.

Maybe: Joel

Maybe WHO?

Maybe: Joel: Happy birthday math partner 🥳

Maybe: Joel: This is Joel by the way, that’s probably important to add

Maybe: Joel: Although you do only have one amazing math partner

You really thought you died there for a second. They were, like, a handful of words (excluding the Joel part) but they were enough to make you hug your pillow from overload.

You spastically texted Luna.

You: JESFEUN You: HE IFHUHF You: HE TEXTED ME LUNA

She must have been waiting for this text all day, just like you. She responded right away.

Luna!!: YAYAYA WHAT DID HE SAY?

You: Happy birthday math partner with the 🥳 emoji and he forgot to say his name until the second text lmaooo

Luna!!: aww thats so cute! he sounds like he has an empty head but you go hon!!

Luna!!: now text him back idiot before you forget or he goes to bed

You: yep one sec

Your thumbs circled aimlessly around the keyboard. You wanted to say so many things. You settled on this:

You: thanks, math partner :)

You hit send on that, hesitated for a moment, then typed:

You: and yes you’re a pretty great one

You took a deep breath and pressed send. You changed his contact to “Math Partner”

You wanted to throw up, but in a good way? You sighed into your pillow. Almost as quick as you sent it, you felt another buzz.

Your hand shot out to grab your phone.

Math Partner: Hey, anytime you need a star, I’m here

You glanced down at your hand, where the orange star was just a few short days ago. It was gone. You wished it didn’t fade.

You: the orange one has already faded :(

Math Partner: Well, to make up for the late birthday wish, I can give you another one once we go back to school since we have another big test

You nodded vigorously, as if he could see that through the screen.

You: maybe in red this time? it’s my favorite color

Math Partner: Whatever you want, birthday girl

What a simp, you thought. Also, you were surprised you still had a pulse at that point. Birthday girl?

Math Partner: I have to go now, I have hockey super early tomorrow. Goodnight 😁

“Hockey?” you whispered to yourself.

You: yay, thanks :) and goodnight!!

He plays hockey? you thought. Shouldn’t you have known that?

You frantically Facetimed Luna and whisper-yelled every word you two exchanged. Luna beamed with so much happiness that you could have sworn she was getting the guy.

“This is literally the best thing EVER,” she quietly exclaimed.

You just laughed a giddy yet nervous laugh. You still had no clue what was happening, but you were ready to embrace it.

---------------------------------

January 25

Age: 15

Grade: 9

When the teacher switched around the seating charts during the year, she mostly kept you and Joel within talking distance each time. If that thing about teachers sensing when kids like each other was thought to be true, she definitely proved it to be so.

Thankfully, she kept this trend going when she switched the seats around on Joel’s birthday. She moved you guys back next to each other for the next quarter. Before, she briefly separated you guys for about two weeks (when Joel wouldn’t stop yelling to his other friend who was near him). During that time apart, you both were noticeably droopier and mopier than normal. He still joked with his friends, but you only heard his loud laugh a handful of times instead of….too many.

As for you, some kid you’ve never even talked to asked you if you were okay. The answer was of course no, but you couldn’t say that.

So when the brown haired boy sat down next to you for the first time in two weeks, it felt like the day he drew the star on your hand all over again. You wanted to reach out and hug him so he’d never leave you, much less say something, anything, but you just couldn’t still. Thankfully, he did the talking for you.

“Miss me?” he joked with his trademark smile.

“Very much so,” you said with a balance of sarcasm and lightheartedness. “Happy birthday, by the way.” You lightly shoved him, not entirely knowing where the guts to do that came from.

“Thank you, thank you. Did you get me anything?” he teased. He lightly shoved you back.

Your heart beated frantically. Your impulsivity urged you to do something you never would have a few months ago.

“Actually…” you paused for a moment. He raised his eyebrows. You reached for an orange marker and uncapped it with a pop.

“May I?”

He could hardly believe it.

“Do what?”

You playfully rolled your eyes. “Draw a star, dummy.”

“Ohhhhh,” he said as he connected the dots. He stuck out his clenched fist as he fought back a huge grin.

You couldn’t believe you were actually doing that.

You tucked your hand under his to keep it steady, just like he did with your hand a few months back. You took your time making sure each corner was connected precisely. You also didn’t want to let go of his hand, like, ever.

You finished way too soon for both your likings. You pulled away and closed the cap.

“Happy birthday, Math Partner.”

“Thanks,” he said. He had his eyes glued on the star you just drew. He didn’t even try to fight the grin that was creeping on his face.

Now you were the cause of his smile. Warmth flowed through your body. You just wanted to keep him that happy forever.

---------------------------------

That night, Luna called you on Facetime because apparently talking about those events in the hallway afterschool wasn’t enough.

“What’s up?” you calmly asked, as if you didn’t know why she was calling.

“What’s up? What do you mean what’s up? I mean, first you lightly shoved him. Yes, I saw that. But then you draw a star on him? I don’t know where this confident you came from, but I am living for it. I am so proud of you,” she sincerely said through a smile.

“Aw thank you, I appreciate it. Yeah, I don’t know either, honestly. He just brings out this good side of me now.”

“I can see that, and I love it. So...” She dragged out the “so,” and that was never a good sign.

“So?” you asked.

“What are you going to do about it?”

“About what?” You played dumb as best you could.

She didn’t buy it. “Oh come on, y/n. You know you love him, why don’t you tell him?”

You shuttered at that idea. By doing that, you risked losing what you’ve created so far. You were texting him roughly once or twice a week at that point about random stuff and talking to him in class every chance you got. Losing that was just something you were not prepared to face. And you told Luna that.

She (mostly) understood.

“I respect that,” she said. “But if you guys don’t hang out in the summer and keep this going, I will kill him.”

You snorted. “Me too, honestly.”

Could you guys keep this going for that long?

Only time would tell, you told yourself.

---------------------------------

April

Grade: 9

Age: 15

Every time you saw Joel, you came home with a pep in your step. It was like clockwork. You would bounce into the house with a grandiose “Hello Mother” and hum a song stuck in your head. Today it was “Love Story” by Taylor Swift.

“How was your day?” your mom asked with a hint of suspicion. After months of letting your intriguing happiness spell go, it was too obvious for her to ignore.

“Good,” you said. You didn’t really want to tell her much about Joel because you knew she wouldn’t believe you if you told her how you really felt about him. Those strong feelings didn’t waiver once over the last few months. Okay, maybe once on the day that he accidentally spilled water on your homework. But you couldn’t stay mad at him after he willingly placed his own homework in the same water.

“You’re very happy today. Anything happen in particular?” She prodded.

“Nope,” you pop the letter “p”.

“Who’s the boy?”

You froze. “Boy?”

“There has to be, you haven’t been this happy to go to school pretty much ever.”

You sighed. It was your mom after all. Maybe she would believe you if you told her.

“His name’s Joel, he’s in my Algebra class,” you mumbled.

“Is he nice? Is he smart? Does he play hockey?” The questions flew from left and right.

“Yes, he’s nice. He’s really sweet to me. He is way better at math than me. Yes he does,” you rattled off the answers to her bombardment.

“Excellent,” she smiled. “You like this boy?”

“Yeah, I really do. A lot actually.”

She raised an eyebrow. “A lot?”

“Yeah, honestly, I might love him.”

That confession froze the kitchen over. She paused.

“Honey, you’re too young to know that,” she tried to reason.

Your chest stung. “What if I’m not?” You questioned.

“You’re fifteen.”

“I know Mom, I know.” She opened her mouth to talk, but you said, “I have to go start homework.” You charged up the stairs and crashed on your bed.

So what if you were fifteen? You didn’t care how old you were. Call it being naive, but you were sure you knew everything when you were young.

You just had to wait for timing to fall into place to prove everyone wrong.

tagging: @teamcanadasimp :)

[facets-and-rainbows]

Blue Exorcist 10th anniversary book Q&A session

The 10th anniversary book has a section where Katoh answers 100 questions submitted by fans on Twitter, so here they are translated/paraphrased! May contain manga spoilers up to the recent flashback arc, so be warned.

(Note that I’m playing it very fast and loose here because there are A HUNDRED OF THEM, so not exact wordings, but it should capture the gist. Lemme know if there are any you want elaborated on)

1. Katoh likes the feel of traditional drawing more than digital but is impressed with how far digital has come

2. Meph THOROUGHLY ABUSES spacetime to watch all his shows and ensure that he gets all the merch he wants

3. Did the girls take all of Yukio’s school uniform buttons in middle school? Yes, they did (apparently it’s like A Thing for girls to ask for a button from their crush at middle school graduation, based on some sad movie from the 60s where a guy who got drafted as a kamikaze pilot gave a girl one of his uniform buttons to remember him by)

4. Rin's tail is about a meter long

5. There are tons of servants working at Mephisto's mansion. Belial is in charge of them

6. Katoh borrows from all sorts of neat real locations when making settings

7. Katoh identifies with pretty much all the characters the most! Except Lucifer.

8. Demon designs she's proud of include the impure king and hachirou, pretty much anything that was the main one in an arc

9. Katoh lists a bunch of her favorite musical artists/music she’s listening to recently: King Gnu, Official Hige Dandism, Kenshi Yonezu, BAD HOP, Sakanaction, Keyakizaka 46, Hypnosis Mic, Aimer, B’Z, Queen Bee.

10. Awww the rabbit manga that characters are often reading isn't just Robo to Usakichi, it's an even older one that she drew as a little kid

11. She likes industrial style interior designs

12. Rin and Yukio alternated who got the top bunk growing up, because they couldn't agree on it lol

13. Katoh cares a whole lot about panel layouts and speech bubble positions, might even be her favorite part of the process (it shows!)

4. Katoh does NOT have a mashou, lol

15. Rin has probably been practicing in secret so he can learn to carry stuff with his tail

16. Izumo probably got into shojo manga around 1st grade, her mom had some around the house

17. Specialty dishes: Rin - lots of stuff but especially nabe Yuri - stuff you can throw together quickly Shiro - stuff he learned from Yuri and/or cookbooks, alongside teaching Rin Yukio - Does. Not. Cook.

18. Can't pick a favorite place she's been on research, but there's no place like Japan

19. Kinzou's band isn't currently meeting because demons, but he's probably still thinking of new songs

20. Hardest characters to draw: anyone with detailed flowing hair. Hardest to write for: Lightning and Gedouin. She had to go read books about serial killers specifically for material for Gedouin, lol 

21. Suguro actually gets a dorm room to himself, though allegedly Yukio is technically assigned as his roommate, lol. Didn't end up that way what with Yukio being a teacher and also Rin’s whole...situation

22. Shiemi makes some of her own hair accessories! Cute

23. Katoh doesn't mind if you include stuff with fan letters but check with the editor first

24. Time for making each chapter: Planning/storyboarding: 1-5 days. Sketching: 3-5 days. Drawing/inking: the rest. Just...the rest of the time

25. Neither Suguro nor Izumo have dated before and neither is currently dating. But that's probably just because things were hectic for them! It could happen

26. Yukio breaks 5 or 6 pairs of glasses a year, someone get this kid a strap or something

27. How many spare glasses does Yukio have? Check the fanbook lol it's in there (dang it Katoh)

28. The demon she wants us to pay the most attention to is Lucifer. Because plot.

29. What's under the Order's big meeting table? It's a BOTTOMLESS PIT and if you fall in it you DIE that's what makes it COOL (laughs)

30. What are the job requirements for the angelic legion? Literally just Arthur liking you and inviting you to join

31. She WANTS to do more character profiles but just hasn't gotten to it

32. Rin's tail feels like a cat tail, texture wise

33. The "red Assiah fire" is literally just actual fire nothing special

34. Rin's current hair color is light blue fading to white at the ends

35. Thoughts on Rin's growth: she likes that he stays positive in awful situations and she also thinks it's very main character of him to face the past instead of avoiding it

36. Mephisto didn't purposely surround Rin with stuffed animals when he woke up after going crispy. Mephisto's bed is just Like That

37. Kurikara was based on a cool sword she found in a sword book, but that one was technically just a ceremonial sword. The symbol on it us a Sanskrit letter kaan (sp?) associated with Fudou Myouou

38. Kuro can communicate with normal cats and hangs out with them often

39. Sometimes Shiemi's skirt is extra fancy around the hem what's up with that? Apparently it's an optional accessory that comes with the skirts help I haven't noticed this and don't know any fashion terms in any language

40. When coloring, Katoh always tries to have an overall theme in mind ("emphasis on blue" etc) so it comes together in the end

41. Yes the twins are genetically related to Shiro because of Goro (she says they're like his nephews but I say GENETICALLY at least they'd be indistinguishable from his children)

42. Strongest mom of all the strong moms around here? Yuri! Did you SEE her give birth??

43. Are you careful about your own health Katoh-sensei? Not particularly! Her mom has had to bring her food at work sometimes! Don't do this at home kids

44. At the dating events Shura goes to, does she drink cocktails in moderation? Yeah, she probably downplays her normal drinking habits at these things. But normally she's down for just about any kind of drink

45. Lucifer just really likes oysters okay

46. How many pages of manga does Katoh draw in a day? If she's being good about self-care: three. Maximum number ever: TEN

47. Mephisto is one of those folks who can eat like a garbage compactor and never gain weight. Possibly because his body resists that sort of change the same way it resists aging etc

48. First food Rin cooked: fish burger type patty. Yukio's favorite things Rin cooks: fish simmered in soy sauce, yellowtail with daikon radish. It's fish all the way down

49: Did Rin ever get more monthly allowance from Mephisto? It doubled! He gets TWO 2000 yen bills now (rip) [T/N: That's uh, that's USD $37.26 a month or 33.10 euro]

50. Why isn't Rin more popular with the girls? He gets nervous talking to them, plus he's too oblivious to notice even if he DID have some fans

51. Why change Suguro's hair? She gets bored with keeping everything the same, and she wanted a visual representation that he was getting serious and going into kind of a training arc

52. Things Katoh pays extra attention to when drawing: trying to capture the feel of whatever she's drawing (like "that looks warm and soft" or "I bet that guy stinks" cough Lightning cough)

53: Does Rin take after Yuri more? (He's got her eyes!) Katoh tried to draw Yuri so she looks like both twins. Personality, too - Yukio has her smarts and Rin has her optimism

54: Do you ever wanna be like Mephisto? Well she'd like to be able to get away with just ANYTHING EVER, but no, let's not be like Mephisto

55. Konekomaru not only carries around a cat toy in case he meets any cats, he MAKES cat toys to carry around based on what he thinks the cats would like

56. How'd you come up with Shima? Go read the fan book!

57. Do the kids have Twitter/Instagram accounts? Rin - probably not. Konekomaru might be on some social media. Paku and Izumo are totally on instagram

58. Is there something Rin makes that you wish you could try? All of it! That's the whole idea! He's good at cooking!

59. Will we ever have a (G-rated) reveal of what ALL of Mamushi and her family's tattoos look like? Maybe! She'll think about it

60. Does Arthur have a repertoire of different hairstyles? Not really, he just puts some of it up on the top. Heck he might even have people to do that for him

61. If you wrote a shojo manga what would it be about? She'd have to do a lot of research before even coming up with a story, since there are so many style differences between the genres aside from just the subject

62. The other two of Mephisto's top 3 favorite foods: Cup ramen and....f-fried bubblegum?? Is that a THING???

63. Where do you start when drawing a character? Usually the outline of their face but if it's a complex pose/composition she'll start with whatever's in the foreground (like hands)

64. If Katoh could have a familiar, what demon would she choose? Mephisto. As the all-powerful author, she might actually be able to command him as a familiar!

66. If you swapped Yukio and Rin's relationship around what would change? not much, you'd pretty much have Rin going to the Illuminati and Yukio going to the past

67. Top 3 foods/souvenirs to try in Kyushu? Well she doesn't know what’s good CURRENTLY but when she was there she always used to like burdock tempura udon, hakata torimon (a kind of manju with white bean paste inside), and Chikae style cod roe. today I learned Katoh went to high school in Kyushu

68. Katoh listens to music a lot while she's storyboarding, then when she and the assistants are all drawing and inking they put various videos/movies and stuff on in the background

69. For all his hitting on girls, is Shima actually popular with the ladies at all? He's got enough girls in his life that he probably COULD find a girlfriend if he really wanted, but the double agent thing tends to get in the way. He still wouldn't be as popular as Yukio though (side thought/translator’s note: Shima would be proud of being number 69.)

70. Katoh has the ending planned out in a big-picture way, but there are still a few details here and there that she's fretting over

71. It's cute when the boys put their ties over their shoulders when they're working on something! Where'd that come from? She just figured a tie might get in the way and that seemed like a realistic way to get it out of the way

72. Looks like Yukio is getting some facial hair! What about Rin? They're both about the age for it, but maybe Rin can't grow a beard yet. Maybe a little peach fuzz here and there

73. Katoh's favorite blue exorcist merch? There were some exorcist licenses a while back, and the exorcist pins. Basically it's really cool that these little accessories she drew ACTUALLY EXIST NOW, LIKE YOU CAN HOLD THEM IN YOUR HANDS

74. Okay realtalk how long do we have left, I don't want the series to end yet? We're solidly in the second half by now but it's not, like, ABOUT to end yet

75. Katoh would be a Knight meister, based on what characters she likes to play in games and such

76. How many people in the whole exorcism cram school? More than you think! She doesn't give a number but apparently licensed exorcists also attend classes for new meisters, etc, so there's a wide age range attending

77. How's Arthur feel about, like, studying Taming on the way to becoming Paladin? He's at least mostly accepted that you have to use demons to fight demons effectively

78. Konekomaru started wearing glasses in his first year of middle school, so like 7th grade (more recent than I thought!) He has one spare pair, in contrast to Yukio lol

79. Katoh's current obsessions? Ghost/scary stories! She's even been going to live readings of them recently

80. Media Katoh consumes for inspiration? A wide range of foreign teen drama, horror/suspense, shojo manga, light novels, anime, etc. Special focus on things where two boys are in conflict or there are brothers involved

81. If they weren't exorcists what jobs would they have? Rin - chef. Yukio - doctor. Shiemi - uh, florist?

82. Inspiration for the design of True Cross Town? Katoh and her assistants gathered up a bunch of references, picked out stuff they felt matched the tone, and mashed them all up together

83. Did you use any references etc for the school/exorcist uniforms? She says she probably should have but she just kind of made them up before publication

84. Favorite part of drawing? For color pages, picking out a color scheme. For black and white, drawing in all the little details (though she doesn't always get time to lately)

85. Once again confirms the demon kings' weird hair is a representation of their horns. ADDS THAT PEOPLE WHO CAN'T SEE DEMONS CAN'T SEE THE WEIRD HAIR

86. Now that Yukio's at the Illuminati, where's he gonna get his Jump SQ and spare glasses? Well he probably never planned to stay for long, but hey it's a big ship and they might have an optometrist and/or newsstand there

87. Do you base the demon characters on any references etc? Not really, she just gets a general idea of popular demon designs and then makes up her own in her own style

88. Merchandise Katoh personally wants to have made: stuff that an adult could just use in their day to day life. Also, it's not gonna happen, but if her favorite figure brand made AoEx figures she could die happy

89. If Beelzebub's host body was a beautiful woman, how would Shima react? Would the womanizing win out over the bug phobia? Katoh replies that Shima would probably just faint from being near a girl that pretty, before the bugs even got involved

90. Will the twins ever get to smile and eat dinner together again?? We'll just have to wait and see!

91. What do you check at a "scenario check"? what's a scenario check man I dunno They check for people being out of character or the setting feeling off. They had a lot of these checks for the anime, but they also do them for the drama CD, games, and all that other stuff where multiple authors are involved

92. Why does Shura use baldy as an insult for people who are clearly not bald? She feels like they have some kind of metaphorical, mental kind of "baldness" and she's calling them out on it. Whatever that means

93. After Blue Exorcist ends, what do you want to draw next? She has SO MANY IDEAS, SO MANY

94. Did Katoh make up the Shinto chants that, for example, Izumo used against Gedouin? They're assembled from bits of actual Shinto prayers according to what feels right in the scene

95. Yukio reads the Jump SQ, right, and, just hear me out here, he likes gag manga, right? Does this mean he reads Salaryman Yukio? It's something he would read, but let's say that in the AoEx universe there's just a very similar manga that he finds oddly relatable

96. What do Yukio and Shima do in their free time on the Dominus Liminus? oh my god you guys this ship has so many amenities.  Yukio probably spends time reading in the library, which they totally have. There's also, like, a gym, and a movie theater, and a THEATER theater, all of which are free. Shima probably hangs out at the pool (!) and goes to the movies, and hits on illuminati girls, lol

97. Easiest character to draw? The ones with boring simple hair, lol. Lightning gets an honorable mention for ALSO not having eyes in most shots, but Rin wins--he was specifically designed to be easy for Katoh to draw because that's what you want in your main character

98. How do demons understand gender? They just possess whatever feels like the best match to how they feel in Gehenna, whether that's a man, or a woman, or a rat, or whatever

99. Where do you start when you're coming up with a story? She starts with character design and how the characters relate to each other. Currently she's just continuing an existing story, so she works on splitting up the overall plot into episodes and fleshing it out with scenes and information about characters

100. When do you feel most happy? She honestly feels like she lives a very happy life overall. Mentions noticing a lot of little things, like how nice her cats' heads smell when she cuddles them or taking a nice cold refreshing drink of water. There's happiness in everything. aww.

[teeth-and-tea]

ANIME & MANGA I HAVE BINGED IN THE LAST MONTH: May 2021

I've Been Hunting Slimes for the Past 300 Years and Now Ive Maxed Out My Level: incredibly long name aside, cute af slice of life that suffers Same Face Syndrome. I'm still happy to watch it because of how feel good and fluffy it is though, Im probably gonna forget about it in two or three years tho. 8/10.

Don't Toy With Me, Miss Nagatoro: I found out this was a webcomic first and suddenly all the HORNINESS made so much more sense. A Femdom, Degradation, Humiliation, Dacryphilia Bullies to Lovers story disguised as a high school rom-com which, I'm not going to lie, misses SKEEVY CITY by mere inches on a regular basis. However, I'm a Dom/Switch and this entire relationship sets off my dom brain center like New York City just shy of midnight. So if you're into that sort of scene, this anime is for you. If not, it's still fascinating but you're probably gonna be a little put off by how mean the Girl!Bully is to the guy MC. Unless you find out something about yourself, in which case, congrats! Stay safe, sane, consensual, and learn about the traffic light system on top of safe words, I promise you'll have a better life in general after that. Still Ongoing, currently 10/10.

Fruits Basket: IM GONNA CRY I LOVE THIS ANIME SO MUCH???? The original anime came out when I was in... I think middle school and my parents were really strict on what I watched so I never got to experience the first wave and I never bothered to watch the show ever after I moved out of the house years later. However, now that I'm much older I honestly can say this is one of my favorite anime to date, and all the characters are charming, lovable, with their own problems that I can connect to or sympathize with, and I love the MC which is always a treat tbh. Except Akito. Akito can suck a sandpaper dick. I'm only on S2 tho so no spoilers! Anime 11/10.

Monster Girl Doctor: went in thinking it was gonna be a monster girl who's a doctor with a homoerotic assistant (her name is SAPPHY okay sue me for thinking it) and ended up watching the entire dubbed harem series. Honestly, I've seen worse and this one has consistent follow-through on interesting characters and backstory enough for me to shove aside the blatant under-monstrousness of the female monsters and the harem-ness of everything else. Dubbing is honestly really good, which is a treat, and the monster designs are not the worst and the MC is tolerable. Honestly, I don't mind having watched it! The mix of cgi and the traditional animation together work pretty strangely though, and it often doesn't flow super well. 7.5/10

So I'm a Spider, So What: Dubbed version which honestly isn't that bad. Took me a bit to get into it, but after realizing that it's got a mismatched timeline a la The Witcher, it made so much more sense. Heavily done in cgi, and you can definitely tell between the 2D and 3D animations, but not the worst in the world. I went in not expecting much but it ended up being an Issekai I can stand and even enjoy. On god has a decent story... with the spider. I'd be a liar if I didnt say I skipped some of the human parts just to get back to the best part of the show. 8/10.

Somali and the Forest Spirit: I'm so fucking nostalgic for this thing it makes me want to go and hug my dad. About a human girl under threat of being eaten with a monster-dominated world. Very obvious "humans fear what they don't understand" message but instead of the humans learning tolerance it's what happens when they get annihilated first so like, kudos for the mangaka for having the guts to do that. I cried like a baby regularly. It's really good, I watched the dub and ID WATCH IT AGAIN!!! 9/10.

To Your Eternity: Oh my god. O h my g o d. Fell in love on the first episode, ngl. About if an immortal being learned how to be a person from scratch. I love it. HOWEVER. Keep a box of tissues on you at all times because you're gonna need them. I'm only on EP7 because that's all that's out right now but just know. I love it. Not for everyone but certainly for my "what do we define as human and the human condition" ass. 12/10.

Those Snow White Notes: A sports anime without any sports. About shamisen playing which is cool because I never realized how cool this instrument was??? Its neat af. OP1&2 are by Burnout Syndrom so know theyre fire. Gonna be real, its pretty alright, but not extraordinary. You can tell they were using the characters as archetypes rather than actually characters which kinda kills a lot of the emotional value you could've had, but I'm still gonna watch it. It doesn't make me cringe as hard as other sports anime tho so I consider it toptier in that regards but if you're a big sports anime fan you might be bummed out by it. Every single musical performance is INCREDIBLE tho. A solid 8/10.

Toilet Bound Hanako-kun: THE ART OMFG IT'S SO GORGEOUS. Listen, if you took coptic markers and gave them an animation budget with some manga panel direction thrown in there, that's this anime. It's beautiful. Gorgeous. I'm in love with the aesthetic every second. Story? Really good. Characters? I love the MC and his evil little twin brother asshat. Demons? Not super imaginative but I'm carrying on happy as can be anyways. Dubbing? A bit shaky at times but I found the voices charming if a little off for some of them. I'm already waiting for the second season with popcorn at the ready. 10/10.

Prison School: I watched this directly after Hanako-kun and it was like I got slapped in the face by sweaty unwashed titties and some fedora wearing schmuck's piss kink. No character is likable or redeemable. I finished it, but at what cost? 2/10 and only because a character shit his pants and I laughed.

Sleepy Princess in the Demon Castle: watched this right after Prison School and it was NECESSARY tbh. Its so CUTE and honestly, im not even kidding you, the fucking funniest anime I've seen in months. I watched the dub and the VAs are having the time of their lives working on this anime not just giving it their all but literally just going ham. Its great. If I read this im sure id be bored outta my mind but the VAs giving it a joyous performance make it an insta fave for me tbh. 9/10.

Sk8 the Infinity: i watched the dub with my bro and I can confirm that its a spectacular show because we both loved it and we have vastly different tastes. Incredibly SUSPENSFUL AND STRESSFUL for an anime about skateboarding but we finished it in a single sitting tbh. The last episode is not dubbed for some reason but we still loved it. Like if Free! was less obnoxious but the only fan-service here is Joe ♡ a beefcake who owns my lesbian heart. I think there's exactly one named female character tho and I legit couldn't tell you what it was if there was a gun to my head. So, over all, 9.5/10.

That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime: I'm going to be entirely honest, I went in thinking it was going to be a boring isekai of no value. I was right about the Isekai part. It was honestly pretty interesting and focused on nation building like you're playing civilization rather than the usual "Get Stronger" narrative or "Get Some Pussy" narrative most isekais take which is delightfully refreshing. Granted there are flavors of that in this which means it doesn't alienate the big isekai watchers out there, but it's not the whole dish and it doesn't make me want to cringe the same way others do. You've got a slime MC just vibing and building a nation of monsters nbd. Does lose points for making the female monsters more humanoid than their male counterparts but makes them back by only doing perfunctory fan-service and nothing that makes me want to cry... except the butt sumo episode but in fairness it was all a terrible dream. Literally, the MC refuses to dream anymore after that. solid animation, decent voice acting, decent story, made me realize how HUGE this is in the Light Novel community???? There's like 18 fucking novels and that's WILD. 8.5/10.

MANGA:

Spirit Photographer Saburo Kono: a one shot special by the mangaka of The Promised Neverland! Honestly a really delicate touch of both super creepy and really touching, and I'm not gonna lie I'm bummed that this isn't a bigger project but the single chapter makes it a good taste for their style. I've been wondering if I wanna read/watch The Promised Neverland and now I think I will. 10/10

Deranged Detective Ron Kamonohashi: from the mangaka of Hitman Reborn comes this Sherlock and Watson derivative! Not even 20 chapters out yet with a sort of spotty schedule, I honestly love it even thought it's exactly as you expect. HOWEVER. Kamonohashi the "Sherlock" character uses mental pressure to kill all confirmed murderers and it's up to Toto the "Watson" character to save all those people before Kamonohashi kills them! It's just recently introduced a "Moriarty" family of crime lords (not a big spoiler don't worry it was obvious) so the tension surrounding Ron's past is amping up rn. Personally, I think the art is GORGEOUS, the characters engaging, and the story quick enough to keep my interest. Most mysteries are solved within a chapter or two so you're not stuck 20 chapters into one locked room mystery which is just peachy tbh. RN, 10/10. If this gets an anime, I anticipate a legion of fangirls who ship the two main characters along with their many friends. I've been alive too long to believe otherwise.

Don't Toy with Me, Miss Nagatoro: Yeah I read the manga after I watched the show. A slower build than the anime, but it works for the format, if theyd done the same with the show then I don't think it wouldve done as well. Honestly? Cuter tbh but just as horny. You dont start really LEARNING about your character until like, chap 65 tho and no real "drama" happens until like 75. A good chunk of the chapters are like 8pgs so its a breeze to get through. I love these slow burn idiots of the century. 9.5/10 because you can DEFINITELY tell the mangaka does hentai too.

Yugen's All-Ghouls Homeroom: one-shot by the mangaka for Food Wars, it's no wonder there's this constant perviness from the MC, a guy who can see and exorcise spirits. Takes place at an all girl's finishing school with KICK ASS monsters tbh, kinda bummed its not longer. The MC? Blatant monsterfucker who is also a CONFRIMED monsterfucker???? Idk i vibe with that single emotion. Everything else is hit or miss. 7/10 for monsters and cool concept, lost points for the MC very pointedly being okay with admitting he'd wait for the teenagers to be adults tho. Creepy af. Could live without that.

Hell's Paradise: I finished the entire 127chps in 3 days and I was really enthusiastic about it 90% of the time thinking about how deep it was and then I actually thought about it and I ended up being very neutral about the whole thing tbh. The art is fantastic tho, but DEFINITELY deserving of the M rating. Tits. Tits everywhere. But not tits to be ecchi over, no, monster hermit tits on beautiful women-ish figures. Now generally I give that a pass but a huge theme in the story is that men and women are "no better than one or the other" but like, lady tits are what you see 99% of the time. Men tits are few and far between. I call bullshit on most of the "deep" themes is what I'm saying, so it's like the mangaka was trying for those deep thoughts but missed the margin a little too far for my preference. That being said, the MC is a married man who loves his wife which automatically makes him my favorite character so like... idk so many good things, so many misses, but overall really spectacular themes and imagery. Unique but classic all at once. It's getting an anime and I have NO IDEA how much censorship they're gonna be doing but they're going to be doing SO MUCH. Oh yeah, and one guy is a plant/human hybrid who fucks a 1000 year old plant-hermit which makes him a canon monster fucker. And one canon non-binary character who I, a nonbinary, actually like. So like... gosh I've got mixed feelings. 8.5/10.

Choujin X: From Sui Ishida, mangaka to the mega hit Tokyo Ghoul comes this brand new manga!... Of one chapter, lol. Not really binge-y because it's just the one chapter out right now but I'm already keeping my eye on it. The grasp on anatomy in the art is PHENOMENAL and you can see Ishida flexing his art skill which is great. Can't give a true rating but I'm giving it a tentative 9/10 because I'm excited to see more.

Shag&Scoob: technically not a manga, its an ongoing webcomic I binged an subscribed to in one day and I just think it deserves more attention. Starts off funny with "what if Scooby Doo had a gun" and has been led to "what if all cartoons are aliens that survive and receive their powers by the humans that love them in an epic war with Martians." On god, its good. I finished the current series in a couple hours so it's a breezy read, highly recommend it. 9/10.

To Your Eternity: Yeah I watched the anime and then finished all current 143 chapters in like 3 days. GOD IM WEAK. I don't buy physical manga unless I know I want to remember the story forever and I'm already budgeting for the current books out. Yeah, this is a good series. That being said, definitely not for the faint of heart or those who suffer under common triggers like suicide, molestation, death, etc. It's all framed as bad and necessary to the story don't get me wrong, but it's there and has lasting affects on the characters. Incredible story telling by the creator of A Silent Voice. Keep tissues nearby at all times. 12/10.

[ilguna]

Redamancy - Epilogue (f.o)

summary: it’s time to forgive and repair.

warnings; swearing.

wc; 1.3k

NOTES; I give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

There’s a certain sensation of satisfaction that goes through you while watching your brothers and sister dance together. How they’ll jump, and twirl, and light up when the music changes to one that they’re particularly good at dancing to. It’s good to see them so carefree. For once, the weight seems to have lifted off their shoulders. 

You smile to yourself.

You’ve spent months preparing for today, picking out flowers, tasting different cakes you might like, choosing a venue and how the decoration will be. Not to mention all the rehearsals, like the dancing and walking down the aisle. And it’s all finally paid off. The stress of planning a wedding is completely gone, you’ll never have to do this again, because you and Finnick agreed on forever.

He’s officially yours, whether he likes it or not. 

You watch as Reed offers his hand to Alyssum to take, so that he can twirl her and dance in a circle. Before she can take the offer, Mox sweeps in and places his hand in Reed’s. For a moment, Reed’s face twists, but soon they’re laughing loudly. Mox gets twirled, and they dance to the traditional music in District Four. As soon as their turn is over, they invite Alyssum in, where she’s practically thrown around. 

Her giggles make your heart flutter. Alyssum’s face turns a light shade of red, trying to keep on her feet. Everyone turns the other direction, and she seems to pick up the beat better. During the dance lessons, she had picked it up a lot easier than your brothers had. With practice, they got better, but Alyssum was naturally good at following the complicated steps.

Surrounding them are all of your friends from District Four. Annie and Mags are together with Anchor, in their own little circle. They might not be perfect, but they’re definitely making the most of what they know. Sometimes Mags will pause and hold onto Anchor from how hard she’s laughing, wrinkles appearing in the corner of her eyes.

Naida and all of her kids are here. Calandra stands off to the side with Amon and Naida--her parents--watching as Caspian tries to entertain his younger brothers. They want to dance, and then they want to play tag, and then they want to sit down and have more cake. It’s hard to keep track of them, since there’s three of them, and only one of him.

And the rest of the people at your wedding are loose friends known from high school, people like Mayor Burrula and his twin sons, or formalities. Naturally, you had to invite Luther and Scotch. Miraculously, they both decided to show up together, Scotch looks like he’s having fun, even if he’s spent most of his time sitting with Luther.

You play with a pure white napkin in your hand, folding it into a numerous amount of shapes while watching everyone. Somehow, it’s more exciting sitting off to the side, seeing the reactions of friends and family. Instead of actually partaking in the memory-making. You think that you’ve contributed to it enough today, considering that you’re the one that got married.

And almost like he can read your mind, Finnick shows up. He’s missing his suit jacket, you can imagine that he decided to throw it over the back of a chair because of how hot it is tonight. You were smart and laid out a separate dress, one shorter and not long-sleeved for the banquet. You knew that it would be hot tonight, and you didn’t want to spend the entire night fanning yourself.

He’s got his sleeves bunched up at his elbows, a button undone at the top, and a few curls out of place. There’s a giddy smile on his face as he comes closer. In his hands is the rose pink wine bottle that President Snow sent you two. You’re not sure how it happened, but word traveled to him, and he sent the bottle as a congratulations. 

“You look like you’re having fun.” Finnick jokes, pulling out a chair and sitting in front of you. He shoves the cork remover into the wood, twisting it a few times before he pulls it out. 

There’s two empty glasses that he pours the wine into. It comes out a pink color, too. When you lift it to your nose to smell, it’s sugary. Almost reminds you of the Ritchson Sibling’s drink at The Victory Speech. You and Finnick clink your glasses together before taking a small sip. The wine is almost irresistible, easy to drink the entire thing when it’s so sweet.

“I am, I promise,” you tell him, “I just like watching them like this.”

Finnick looks over his shoulder slightly to see what’s happening now. The group has opened up wider, allowing Caspian and the three boys to dance with them. It’s more chaotic than it was before, with the boys trying to keep up with the others. Still, they all seem to be having fun.

“It’s probably a relief, huh?” Finnick looks back at you.

You give him a warm smile, “Yeah, for all of us, I think. They don’t have to worry about me anymore. I have you, I’m going to be okay.” you pause for a second, “Alyssum on the other hand…”

Alyssum’s the next to worry over, and it’s only getting more the closer she gets to eligibility. Just a few more years and she can go into the Hunger Games. She’s already doing well inside of the boarding school, but you’re worried that you’re going too slow. And then you worry about her childhood and whether or not you’re going too fast.

You can’t win at this. You want her to be prepared, you don’t want her to live her life in fear and preparation for something that may never happen. Although, you never saw your reaping coming. You thought that you had gone through enough in your life, and you were still chosen.

“It’s going to be like this forever.” Finnick says, “Reapings, mentoring, coming home. Until the both of us have someone to replace us.”

“It’s going to be a while.” you tell him.

“I know. Doesn’t mean I can’t look forward to it. There’s a lot that I can’t wait for.” Finnick takes a sip of his wine.

“Like what?” You ask, eyebrows drawing in slightly.

“Too many to name.” Finnick waves it off, “I’ll forget some.”

“I guess you should start a list, then?”

It’s a joke, but Finnick sits there and thinks about it for a second, “Sure.”

You open your mouth, and then close it. Finnick reaches over towards one of the wedding notepads on the table. At the top has both of your names, as if someone will try and take one of these and bring them home as a souvenir. The only real reason you bought little things like this is because you have a lot of money that’s built up, despite using a good portion of it towards the boarding school.

Finnick picks up a black pen, and then writes at the top, ‘The Forever List’.

He doesn’t hesitate to get started.

--

The Forever List.

1. Marry the love of my life.

2. Be there for her.

3. Attend her family’s weddings.

4. Have kids.

5. One boy/one girl.

7. Watch them grow.

8. None of them get reaped.

9. See them get married.

10. Have grandchildren.

11. Grow old with the love of my life.

--

“Looks like you can cross one of them off.” you place your finger on the first one.

“Looks like you’re right.” Finnick gives you a cheeky grin.

He doesn’t cross it off, instead he stars it and off to the right, places today’s date. You stare at it for a couple of seconds. They’re all long-term goals, obviously. And some of them are vague, like ‘Be there for her’, since there’s no set time when that’ll happen. You guess he could star it when something hard happens between you two. Other than that, you’re not entirely sure.

Finnick then folds the paper into a small, neat square. He stands from where he was sitting, and holds out his hand towards you, “One more dance, Missus Odair?”

You give him a grin, taking his hand, “Don’t mind if I do, Mister Gallows.”

--

REDAMANCY IS PART 2 OF A TRILOGY //MASTERLIST//

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