#and then everyone thought i was a coward and i had to like subtly go to people most effected like

[anthonycrowley]

i know things about the blogger with the diverseracist fic that Could set a powder keg in the middle of spnblr to this day is the thing like the context it gives is stunning

[peppermintquartz]

"What do you mean, a dance party? You mean, everyone actually danced?"

Buck places the forks and knives down in the sink and pulls on the rubber gloves for washing up. He still feels a little nauseous thinking about that moment, if he has to be entirely honest with himself, but he also knows how Tommy feels about Gerrard, so he just shrugs and nods. "Yeah. Hen's first order as acting captain, in fact. I guess they just really needed to cut loose."

It's a weighted lack of response behind him. Tommy spritzes the table and wipes it down, puts away the cleaning products and tosses the dishcloth onto the counter. Buck focuses on suds.

Then he feels Tommy's arms go around his waist and a soft kiss to the back of his neck, and a tension he didn't realize was there dissipates. It's not a flirtatious sort of intimacy that Tommy is initiating, however. Just a physical closeness.

"You know I don't like that old bastard," Tommy says quietly, "and I need you to keep that in mind, because I'm gonna say something that might annoy you."

"Um. Okay? Can it wait?"

"If I have to look at you when I say it, I might say something worse."

That sounds worrying. Buck takes a deep breath and stops washing the plates. "Alright."

"I'm so mad at Hen and Eddie and Howie right now, and I wish you had snapped at them," Tommy murmurs. "It was unprofessional of Hen, too."

"Babe-"

"I'm not done. I've heard him go off on guys before. Hell, I've been the guy on the firing line. And I know, I know I was a coward, I know I used to be the guy who kept his head down and I know I was the guy who was relieved when it wasn't me. Because that was how we used to survive, pushing another forward to take the heat. But he left, and the 118 became better. And then he came back, and I was afraid for you. For all of you. But I thought, well, even if he's running the 118 now, you guys have each other's backs." Tommy's embrace tightens subtly. "I don't like that none of them had your back."

Buck breathes out shakily. "They do, Tommy. They keep telling me to not talk back, to just leave him be. I was just the one who couldn't. A-and I just... I was lucky today. I could've lost my job because I wasn't able to..."

"Did you want to hurt him?"

Buck bites his lower lip. He takes a long moment to collect his thoughts. "I wanted him to shut up." He shuts his eyes and shakes his head. "If my timing had been off, if that saw had been a second faster... Tommy. I could've killed him."

Tommy holds him as shudders racked through his big frame. "You didn't, you didn't. Baby, you didn't."

"I could've," Buck repeats. "And no one... None of them, none of them were listening to me, they didn't wanna hear- Eddie was just. He. He said I saved him, and I told him I was just trying to hit him, and they were so happy and I was so scared-"

He isn't going to cry, not over fucking Gerrard, but there's a helplessness that's bubbling to the surface. It's a minor issue, compared to all that had happened, especially with that plane landing. His heart was in his throat almost the entire time until everything settled down.

"You're not wrong to have been scared," Tommy says fiercely, protectively. "You're a good man, Evan Buckley. And I know that you wouldn't have wanted to hurt him, even though he more than deserves it." Another moment, another kiss to the back of Buck's neck. "I don't want you to have to bear any guilt. You did save him. And they were being way too flippant and dickish about all of it."

And today Buck saw first-hand the level of trust Bobby has in Athena, and the fear Bobby hides under all of that confidence. He sees it now more clearly than ever, because he has Tommy, who is holding him and supporting him for a moment that bothers Buck more than it bothers anyone else.

"I'll get past it," he says aloud. He leans back into Tommy and sighs. "Thanks."

"Tell me I shouldn't call Eddie to tell him off. Or Howie. Or Hen, for unprofessional behavior."

"Don't call Eddie to tell him off." Buck smiles and turns to press a kiss to Tommy's cheek. "Or Howie or Hen. They're all stressed. They needed that moment."

Tommy huffs. "You're a better man than I am."

[pigeonwhumps]

Sanctuary masterlist

Taglist: @littlespacecastle @mirasmirages @flowersarefreetherapy @whumpinggrounds @cepheusgalaxy @painful-pooch @i-eat-worlds @a-funeral-romance @rainydaywhump @bbu-on-the-side

Anita receives an email from WRU about Lea's training, sending her spiralling.

2k

CWs: BBU, pet whump, anger issues, self-harm, implied past suicidal thoughts, rape, sexual slavery, self-hatred, past transphobia

Theo is next door when Anita receives the email.

She's glad. He wouldn't be able to hear her, but he's very sensitive to her emotions and behaviour as a survival mechanism, and she wouldn't want him witnessing her primal, anguished scream. Mittens streaks out of the room, ears flattened to their head, as she throws something at the wall. She's not sure what. It doesn't matter. How dare they? Those utter–

"Anita? What have you done to your room?"

Her paati is behind the curtain giving her a little privacy with the open door, and Anita sniffs. Paati's words are serious but her tone is more worried than anything. It's been a long time since Anita's done anything like this.

"You can come in," Anita croaks, and her patti pushes the beaded curtain aside slowly, cataloguing the room. "I–"

She gestures to the computer. Paati approaches, takes the recently-vacated seat, and frowns at the email on-screen. Anita takes a deep breath and translates it into Tamil.

Paati sucks in a breath and reads it through for herself. She flattens her sari over her lap, a nervous movement. She always used to do that before Anita's parents evenings.

She did that in the hospital. It's one of Anita's strongest memories from the place.

"What are you going to do?"

"What they want. I have to, right? It's too dangerous to do otherwise."

Paati looks at her, and as always happens, she finds her thoughts bursting out of her in a torrent of pain and helplessness.

"They're trying to make her for me and I don't want that. I just want her to be safe and loved and with Theo, I don't– I'm not going to have sex with her. But I need to send these, don't I, they'll be suspicious otherwise, and I hate it, I've never even said those things to someone I love, let alone– let alone to help condition a sex slave."

The last part comes out in a choked whisper. She's buying a sex slave. Participating in this horrific system. No matter the reason for it, it's still abhorrent, and she hates herself for it. Hates herself for not being able to find another way to reunite the pair.

"I know what you're thinking. Stop it. It's not your fault, chotu. You're getting Lea out of there, safely and subtly. There's no need to feel so guilty."

Anita knows. She knows. Everyone's told her that, Marjorie and Alix and everyone. But she can't believe it, because she's still buying a sex slave.

It took her years to stop being a coward and help people again. And now she's buying a fricking sex slave.

Her paati hits her gently on the arm. "Stop it. I'm making you tea, and you're going to drink it all, and that will help. Wallowing won't. Get up and do something."

So she does. She finds Mittens and their favourite toy, and plays with them in apology for earlier. Trying to block out what she has to do.

Lea will be here soon. So at least there's that. Even if... even if Anita has to do this to get her. It's nothing compared to what Lea is going through.

Absolutely nothing.

Paati comes into the living room and sets a steaming mug smelling of her favourite blend of tea leaves and cinnamon down beside her. "Drink it all before you do this."

"Thanks," Anita croaks, taking a sip. Then a gulp, scalding her throat but worth it. She nurses it a little, liquid turning into little whirlpools with her tears.

She doesn't want to move but she supposes she had better get it over with, so she swallows the rest of her tea in two more gulps.

It's a shame to waste it. Maybe, if she asks nicely, paati will make her some more later.

She walks to her bedroom and sits on the bed, scrolling through the list of suggestions WRU sent on her phone. She just can't think of any herself. She chooses the three she thinks she'll most be able to stomach.

She closes her eyes briefly. She doesn't want Lea made for her. She doesn't want Lea made for this. But she has to go along with it, or she'll risk everything.

Okay. She can do this. It's just three sentences, it's easy.

Anita's stomach churns as she presses 'record' on her phone.

"Oh that's good."

She plays it back to herself. She sounds choked, like she's being forced into recording at gunpoint.

She tries again.

The second try is better. She still has to resist throwing her phone at the wall. It's not fair.

Next phrase. As her therapist used to encourage her to do when she got hopelessly angry as a teenager, moving on.

She swipes at her eyes angrily, glad there isn't video.

"Go on. Just like that."

This one sounds slightly wavering, but Anita decides that that's okay. If she was about to cum maybe she would sound like that.

And the third... the third, she just gives up on holding back her sobs and tries to turn them into sobs of ecstasy instead. She thinks she does a pretty good job. WRU suggests several sounds, and Anita isn't trying moans. She couldn't manage that, and she never intends to, with Lea.

And then she just about makes it to the toilet before spewing her guts up.

She thinks she's probably chucked up everything she's eaten or drunk today. Her mouth tastes disgusting, but it can't be as bad as Lea's is if she's being trained.

It reminds her of that taste though. She throws up again.

She needs to clear her head. She needs to clear her head, she can't afford to remember that right now. She can't afford all these emotions, can't afford to sit here and tremble and throw up, she needs to get up and submit those files.

But she can't move.

She scratches at her arms fiercely, desperately, itching to get the emotions out, gone, to push herself to move and get it all done. She finally breaks the skin with a spike of pain and a rush of relief.

And she crumples to the floor.

She takes a shaking breath, and then another, watching the blood as it drips to the floor in slow, red, hypnotic droplets, joining the salt water there. She feels better, even through the trembling and tears.

Two pale, scarred, wiry arms take Anita's upper arms tentatively and she looks up. Theo.

"May I help you, Mistress?"

Anita nods. As he helps her sit up, she thinks how much he's grown. The first time he was in here he didn't dare speak, let alone ask questions and touch her without permission.

Theo fetches bandages and tape out of the cupboard and kneels down in front of her. She holds out her arm, which he diligently cleans and wraps a bandage around.

"Miss Indira told me what you are doing, Mistress. Lea has been training as a Romantic for months. If you did not send the recordings she might think she is unwanted as a Romantic. Or her handler will tell her that. It's the worst feeling for a pet, Mistress, to be unwanted for your only purpose."

"Oh. Thank you for explaining."

She wonders if his explanation makes it any better. She decides that it doesn't.

Lea isn't just being raped. She's being taught that she's nothing without it.

Anita just watches as he smoothes the bandage carefully over her wrist and ties it off. She wonders where he learnt how to do all this.

When he looks back up at her, she says carefully, "I'm sorry if I've ever made you feel unwanted. You're not. You never will be."

"Yes, Mistress."

"Thank you for this. I can finish with the rest if you'd rather go and relax. It's my mess."

Theo shakes his head and gives Anita a tentative hug. When she returns it, resting her head on his, his gets tighter.

They're both shaking, she realises. Theo needs this just as much as her.

She rubs his back soothingly. It's good for Theo, and anything to distract her.

Eventually, she draws away. She needs to get on with the day. Get the submission over with. She can't just sit here.

"I can clear up."

Theo shakes his head, again, and stows the bandages while Anita wipes the floor. She flushes the toilet several times and dumps cleaner down it, unable to clean properly but unwilling to let Theo do it.

"Okay, sweetheart. Let's– let's go."

Anita makes a valiant effort to carry her own weight but she's not sure how well she succeeds. In the living room they bump into paati. Almost literally.

"How are you doing?"

"I've finished the recordings, just need to– upload them."

"That's not what I meant, chotu. You know that."

She nods. She does know that, she does, but she doesn't want to worry her paati more than she clearly already is.

"Better than Lea."

Paati holds out her arms encouragingly and Anita falls into them. As has been the case since she was little, it's one of the only places she feels completely safe, and she buries herself in her paati and cries her heart out.

"You're safe. No-one's going to hurt you here."

Of course, her paati knows exactly where her mind has gone. It wouldn't be anywhere else.

"I know. I know I know I know."

And she's lucky. At least when she was told, more or less, that she would only be only a proper girl if she could take someone's penis well (and she certainly knew she wasn't a boy so what was she?), she had people to convince her she was worth something. In Lea those sorts of thoughts are encouraged. It's sick and twisted. How can it be legal to systematically, repeatedly rape one group of people and for another you can receive a life sentence for it?

The sleeves of her jumper have pushed themselves back at some point, and paati touches her wrist.

"Do we need to contact your therapist again?"

Anita shakes her head. She can't anyway, she doesn't know what they'd do if they suspected she supported pet lib.

"I won't let it get as far as before," she croaks. She has people to look after now, and this is just a blip anyway, caused by a combination of Lea's treatment and some of the phrases WRU sent.

"Good. Tell me if you start to think that way again, because I can't lose you." Anita nods. "Why don't you finish the submissions, then you can have tea and a nap, and after that we can decide about this evening?"

"Can't sleep."

"Try." She turns to Theo, signing something and then repeating it out loud for Anita's benefit. "Do you still want to go tonight?"

"Yes please, Miss Indira, if that is acceptable to you and Mistress."

Paati nods. Anita could cry at his progress. He's expressing himself.

She makes her unsteady way to her room and collapses in front of the computer, trying to upload the files without thinking too hard about what they are. It's a complicated process made all the more so by the tears blurring her vision, but she manages it after a few tries. As she finally presses 'submit', she feels a surge of self-hatred so strong she has to cling to the table to keep herself upright. Lea's being made for this, made for her, made to be a sex slave, and Anita's just condemned her to the worst of it, whatever Theo says.

She's as bad as her own rapist now.

By the time paati comes in with three steaming mugs, she's curled up in bed, blankets over her head, Mittens sprawled on her, Theo pressed against her side. Leaving the world to sort itself out.

[mortemoppetere]

TIMING: current LOCATION: a not-so-abandoned apartment PARTIES: @apaininyourneck & @mortemoppetere SUMMARY: emilio tracks a vampire to an abandoned apartment and finds owen there as well. CONTENT WARNINGS: none!

His fingers twitched around the stake, grip tight enough to make his knuckles ache. Things had been… rough lately. Between the shit with Aesil and the fiasco with the Good Neighbors, Emilio was on edge. His skin itched, his throat was dry, he felt more paranoid than usual in a way that was saying something. There was another shoe hanging over his head, waiting to drop. There would be consequences for all of it, he thought; for surviving the demon when he was probably meant to die to it, for freeing some of the prisoners in the Good Neighbors’ cells and not freeing others. Things were going to get bad; he had to be ready for that.

Right now, it meant tracking down one of those escaped prisoners. This one had been on the kill list, had escaped when the vampire Vic spared decided to open the floodgates and let everyone have a taste at freedom. Already, the escaped prisoner had continued its work from before its capture. There were three dead girls who matched its old MO, and Emilio wanted to ensure there wouldn’t be a fourth.

The vampire was easy enough to track. Despite its capture, it didn’t seem interested in covering its tracks. Emilio had traced it to an apartment tonight, a place where it seemed to be staying; it wasn’t one the vampire paid for of course. From what Emilio could tell, the unit was meant to be empty. It’d be empty again soon, if he had anything to say about it. He made his way towards the door, stake at the ready. It’d be quick, he told himself; he’d be back home in time for lunch.

—

It wasn’t just the proximity of a fanged piece of shit that was currently making Owen’s skin crawl, his insides twist. He was no more than a fucking messenger boy at this point and it burned, something hot and searing that lived between shame and rage as he handed a vampire an envelope instead of mutilating their smarmy face. “And if I don’t feel like taking orders?” the vampire had the audacity to ask, misreading the situation as if a single crumb of control belonged to him. 

Owen sniffed, stepping closer as he stared down this pathetic creature - he didn’t know details about this one but the apartment that was obviously being squatted in, the cocky expression, the dried blood on the clothes; Owen had dealt with dozens like him before. They all disintegrated the same, no matter how much they truly thought they were the scariest thing to go bump in the night. “Then I get the pleasure of tearing you apart limb by limb until I get bored and finally dust you.” 

The self assured expression wavered for a fraction of a second and oh, how he longed to make good on that threat right now. His bones ached with it, called out for the dull pain that came with breaking someone’s face. But the vampire backed down like a fucking coward, shifting back a step and averting his gaze from Owen’s piercing stare and the slayer’s jaw reached a new level of tension. “Yeah, that’s what I fucking–” The front door was swinging open and wasn’t that just the cherry on the top of this cake made of absolute shit. 

“We really need to stop meeting like this,” Owen greeted, expression fixed into one of neutrality by the time he met Emilio Cortez’s gaze. Of course he was here, presumably to feed his little morality complex by taking out the vamp Owen was now subtly shielding with his body. There hadn’t been even a remote possibility that Rosel was interested in some do-gooder vampire and Emilio’s presence only confirmed as much - whoever had just agreed to follow whatever that envelope contained (under threat of some serious physical harm) was enough of a piece of shit to land on Cortez’s hit list. 

His hand found the hilt of a knife safely tucked in the back of his waistband, not bothering to even try hiding the motion since Emilio’s paranoid eyes would have picked up on it anyway. “Finders keepers, Cortez. Get yourself another vampire.” 

—

Of all the people he’d expected to find when swinging open the door to the shitty, run-down apartment, Owen wasn’t among them. Emilio had known that the other slayer was back in town and unfortunately not dead, as he’d assumed him to be, but he’d thought the world might grant him a little bit of a reprieve before he actually had to see the guy again. He should have known better, really; the world was rarely interested in granting Emilio any kind of grace.

It was harder to decipher what Owen was doing here, though. The easy bet would be, of course, that he was here for the same reason Emilio was, but the vampire he’d come to dust was in one piece and didn’t seem particularly put off by Owen’s presence. Owen didn’t strike Emilio as the type to attempt to earn someone’s trust before killing them — why would he? It wasn’t as if this vampire had any information to be shared. It had just escaped imprisonment, so it wasn’t exactly the best ‘eyes on the street’ to have on file. And… shielding it from Emilio? That made even less sense.

The detective’s eyes darted between the two figures trying to put the pieces together, but… He was missing a lot of information. Wherever Owen had been over the last few months was probably knowledge necessary for solving this particular mystery, and Emilio knew that wasn’t something that would be willingly shared with him. Whatever Owen was up to, he was going to have to figure it out on his own.

But right now, he just needed to kill a guy.

Owen’s hand went for a weapon, and Emilio’s tightened on his stake. It wasn’t the best weapon for fighting someone with a beating heart, but it was sharp enough to stab someone with even if it wouldn’t turn them to dust and he didn’t want to waste time trading it for a knife when it might give Owen an upper hand. Besides, he was still going to have to kill the vampire, anyway. The stake was the only thing that could do that and give him something to wield against Owen. “Yeah? And what is it, exactly, that you’re doing with this vampire? Doesn’t look like you’re killing it. You having trouble finding conversation? Have to talk to corpses now?” It was easy to fall back into the kind of insults that would make a slayer’s skin crawl, even if Emilio himself was no longer bothered by the concept of befriending the undead. He didn’t think Owen knew about his less lively friends; most of their disagreements had come from a more personal place than that. There was always a chance Rhett had told him about Emilio pulling Ariadne from his van, but it was a risk Emilio would take for the opportunity to be petty. 

“Hate to break up the party here, but I’m not leaving until somebody’s dead. Could be you. Could be him. Either way, I walk away happy.”

—

As things stood, Owen hadn’t been impaled with a stake yet. He couldn’t imagine it was very pleasant - well, could do more than imagine seeing as he didn’t always go straight for the kill and in those cases, the vampires hadn’t seemed thrilled about the sharpened wood being forced through skin and muscle. Emilio’s expression showed just how willing he was to give Owen that experience if need be. So he brought his own knife into view, flipping it once as Emilio, predictably, started to ask questions. “Yeah, you got it. Here for the riveting conversation,” he shot back, words dripping with sarcasm, muscles continuing to tense in anticipation. 

He’d known this was going to be an issue the second that limping nuisance appeared in the doorway but had hoped against hope that just maybe, Emilio wasn’t in the mood to be stubborn and petty. But of course he was stubborn and petty and Owen remembered why hope was for children and fucking imbeciles. Fuck, this was so not the evening for this. A fleeting thought of weakness, simply letting Cortez have this dumb fuck of a vampire, lie his way out. Only she would know, somehow she would fucking know that Owen had fucked up, and that wasn’t even taking into account the ‘letting Emilio have something he wanted’ part of this thought. No, they were definitely doing this the hard way. 

“Fuck, you’re annoying,” Owen barked out and it was almost a laugh but he was too fed up to even properly feign humor. “The sex was not good enough to be worth all of this,” he added, letting the dry words settle for only a fraction of a second before his knife was sailing through the air in Emilio’s direction. Owen didn’t have any misconception that the blade would actually find its intended target, only serving as a distraction so he could shove back the undead fuck responsible for this situation. Coupled with Owen’s freezing glare, the vampire got the hint, scrabbling for purchase on the floor as it bolted for the closest room. 

—-

The knife was hardly an unexpected thing, and Owen’s irritating theatrics as he flipped it were similarly anticipated. Maybe he should have been a little more concerned about it, all things considered. Emilio had been raised to trust that other hunters were allies, that even those who were rough around the edges wouldn’t kill one of their own. He knew better than that now, of course, though he wasn’t sure if the teachings had been wrong or if he’d simply surrendered any kinship he might have had with other people like him. He thought of the ranger Andy killed, the one he’d helped her bury. He thought of Parker, of the way his knife had sliced cleanly through bone and tendon to separate his finger from his hand. He thought of releasing Ariadne from Rhett’s van. He thought of Owen, too, pressing a hand against his injured shoulder and spitting vitriol about his worth. At this point, Emilio wondered if he’d had more trouble with hunters than he had with the undead, and it was a jarring thought. He wondered what it said of him, what it made him. How long before he’d have to find something else to call himself?

He knew Owen wouldn’t hesitate to use that knife. He was fairly certain Owen wouldn’t hesitate to use that knife to kill him, though some part of him wondered if the other slayer might still aim to maim instead. Most hunters had a code against killing other hunters, but Emilio was no longer sure it applied to him. Regardless, the knife was no real surprise. What was surprising was the way it seemed intended not just to threaten Emilio, but to protect the vampire. This wasn’t Owen childishly insisting that he get the kill; this was Owen trying to prevent there from being a kill to begin with. It was notable if only because it was so unlike any behavior Owen had exhibited in the time Emilio had known him.

The knife came flying at him and, having known it was an inevitable thing, Emilio spun to avoid it. There was no stopping the way his bad leg ached with the sudden movement, but it was far less than it might have been had he not been expecting it. Less expected was the way Owen’s first priority wasn’t to follow up on the attack, but to usher the vampire to a safer location. None of the pieces seemed to fit together quite right, but this was a puzzle Emilio would have to wait to solve. Right now, he had better things to worry about. “You were shit in bed, anyway,” he replied, moving towards both Owen and the vampire with the stake at the ready. He probably had a second, maybe two before Owen armed himself again; it was an advantage he’d use fully and without hesitation.

—

Maybe he was projecting, imagining himself in Emilio’s situation and watching a slayer actively keep a vampire from harm, but Owen swore he could see - scratch that, fucking hear the gears in the other slayer’s head turning. Even if he had expected judgment from Emilio, which he didn’t seeing as the man was apparently developing quite the soft spot for the monstrous and wicked, Owen wouldn’t have cared much about said judgment. No, the problem was that the man was a curious and stubborn nuisance and Owen sparing a vampire was… irregular. Emilio would want to poke and prod at it and right now, the last thing he needed was a hunter poking and prodding into his shit. Not while he still had no fucking clue just how much of Rosel’s threats were a bluff. 

If they weren’t a bluff, Owen had to wonder whether Emilio was part of this ‘list of people that go down’ Rosel had apparently compiled. Not that Owen cared. Just… wouldn’t that be an ironically poetic way for the slayer to go, fucked over by his own curiosity and bitterness.

Emilio could move deceivingly fast and Owen only had enough time to turn and block the incoming attack, not eager to let that stake find any purchase. The first time they’d clashed, Emilio had been at a clear physical disadvantage. Second time, the unspoken promise of mutually assured destruction had prevented a brawl but now? Owen wasn’t under the misconception that Emilio couldn’t be deadly so as much as he liked the idea of getting to break something, he was also fond of getting out of this alive. 

Momentarily safe from the irony of getting staked, Owen went for the legs, making a move on the good one even if it might be exactly what Emilio would expect. He just needed a few extra seconds, manage to break away from the close contact to slip a hand into his jacket, pulling out a fresh blade, one larger than the one he’d previously thrown. Did he want to kill Emilio? Maybe a part of him did but underneath all of the frustration and whatever had been between them before it morphed into something bitter and ugly, Owen knew there was a chance of the other slayer being useful at some point. That was the only reason he would hold back. Well, that and the already thinning hunter population in Wicked’s Rest for… reasons. 

“We each get in one good hit and then you walk away before I break your good leg?”

—

Everybody always went for the legs. It wasn’t a bad move, really; it made sense to target a person’s weakest points, and Emilio’s injury to his left leg and the way his right had to compensate for its useless partner made both limbs a frequent target. The left leg was an easy target and damaging the right would leave him at a pretty stark disadvantage. So he could hardly blame Owen for going for it right away. Had Emilio been up against someone with a similar ailment, he would have gone for the legs, too.

It did make the move pretty predictable, however. 

Emilio was able to twist out of the way quickly enough, making a grab for Owen’s wrists in the same motion. He wasn’t stupid enough to assume that the other slayer didn’t have something sharp hidden away in his jacket, and while he was confident in his ability to avoid being stabbed — he was actually pretty good at that, most of the time — he had the biggest advantage for as long as he could make sure that he was armed and Owen wasn’t. And he liked having the biggest advantage possible. It made him feel more secure, less on edge. Owen was good enough at throwing him off his game without that; the last thing Emilio wanted was to give the other slayer a chance to do it with more ease.

He let out a sharp laugh, bitter and humorless. “You’re stupider than you look if you think I’m walking away without getting what I came for, pendejo,” he replied lowly, moving to snake his good leg around Owen’s ankle to try to throw him off balance. He figured if he could knock the guy on his ass, it would at least give him time to stake the vampire in the next room before it got away. He might still have to fight Owen afterwards, but he’d likely have already succeeded in pissing the guy off, and that was a victory all its own. “How about I stake your asshole friend, then toss you out the window? I like that idea better.” 

��

Before things had gotten so royally fucked again, a part of Owen would have enjoyed this - the challenge, the push of a fight with someone equal. Maybe a part of him still did, his veins still burned with adrenaline that, after years of honing, he thought of as a positive. But now, where it had once been a release and in some ways an escape, it was a goddamn necessity and that did manage to suck most of the pleasure out of it. At least it wasn’t the soup of complicated shit that came with slicing the throat of some helpless fuck of a hunter that never saw it coming. 

His fingertips brushed the hilt of the knife while Emilio’s dug into the skin of his wrist, it would leave a dashing bruise and maybe even a fracture if Owen would have let him. Trying to wrench his arm free would have put him at a disadvantage, probably only furthered the odds of something breaking or bending the wrong way, so Owen gave up on trying for the knife for now. Instead, he shifted his arm, long fingers wrapping around Emilio’s wrist in turn. Mutually assured destruction. 

“Who do you think your brother would be rooting for?” he hissed in response, aware that he didn’t know what had transpired since that night in the woods all those months ago but knew it was a sore spot all the same. Emilio didn’t know that out of the two of them, the scales had recently shifted on who had done more wretched things against their heritage. Didn’t matter. If Emilio was going to try for cheap shots like hooking his ankle, Owen felt he was entitled to them, too. 

Even so, he did let Emilio throw him off balance, grabbing for the man’s other wrist as well to ensure they would both hit the ground - pulling and pushing to make sure he didn’t land at a disadvantage. An attempt to get Emilio away, for just a second to arm himself. Protecting someone in a fight led to bullshit like this, giving up a weapon and getting fucked over. He’d done it once for the hunter he was currently trying to knock the fuck out and that time had pissed Owen off severely - but doing it because he was forced to? It inspired a new kind of rage, the kind that had him bailing on trying to get a weapon in lieu of simply getting a fucking hit in. 

—

In a lot of ways, fighting Owen was similar to the sparring matches he’d often had with his siblings. People trained to fight the same thing often learned similar styles, after all, considering that was what was the most effective in their craft. Even the knowledge in the back of his mind that losing this fight might leave him bleeding out on the dirty floor of this half-abandoned apartment wasn’t something that hadn’t been present back in Mexico, when it was Rosa or Edgar or Victor he was up against. Emilio had more than a few scars that had come from a familiar hand holding a blade, after all. His mother had always believed in high stakes, even when a fight was only meant to help further training. 

Owen’s fingers wrapped around Emilio’s wrist just as Emilio’s had wrapped around his, making it impossible to twist the other slayer’s arm without fucking up his own, too. It was a good move, and less predictable than the attempt to take out his legs. Bringing up Rhett was less of a surprise. Like his bad leg, his brother was an obvious weak point. Owen might not have known the full story, but he’d seen Emilio in the woods that day, must have recognized the way he’d flinched. He tried not to think about the way he’d felt in the back of his brother’s van, seated beside a corpse. That was exactly what Owen wanted, and Emilio had no desire to give the other slayer what he was after.

“Aw, did you think you and him were friends? I doubt he even remembers your name. You don’t leave much of an impression.” He wasn’t sure it would bother Owen, the idea that his alliance with Rhett had come to be out of convenience. It was frustrating — Owen’s weak points seemed less obvious than his own. No bad leg, no estranged brother. The only thing Emilio had on Owen was that vampire in the other room and, if all went well, that would be dust by the time he finished here. It’d put him right back to square one. Square one was his least favorite place to be.

Other than the floor, perhaps. He managed to knock Owen off his feet, but the other slayer was able to drag Emilio down with him. Maybe with two good legs, Emilio could have stayed upright, but as it was? He found himself sprawled out, momentarily disoriented as his knee flared up in brief protest. It was a heartbeat, maybe two, but that was a goddamn eternity in a fight like this one. Owen had a knife in his pocket, and this would definitely give him time to retrieve it. Emilio kicked out at him, trying to disorient as he twisted his body. He’d managed to maintain his hold on the stake, and he drove it towards Owen now, desperate for some kind of an advantage.

—

Annoyingly, it had been much harder to get a proper rise out of Emilio after that first time, when whatever mutual understanding they’d had - trust was pushing it - was broken. Once the other slayer had come to expect harsh words from Owen, he seemed much more capable of steeling himself. That night with Rhett had been the exception, a messy mix of death and brotherly disappointment. A downside to only having surface level discussions between fucks - Owen could read a few things from Emilio but without all the ‘whys’, it was that much harder to really hit him where it hurt now that he’d lost the element of surprise. At least this lack of knowledge went both ways, for now. 

“Fuck friendship, I was useful.” And he’d obviously made an impression if Emilio’s reaction to this sudden return to town was anything to go off. 

But, uncharacteristically, Owen didn’t feel much like talking as things continued to escalate. His mind was fogging over with pure anger at this point - the gnawing feeling of a vampire still being here and alive, this nosy motherfucker having caught a whiff of what was going on, the fact that none of this shit was of his own volition. Perhaps that was the only advantage Emilio currently had, the fact that Owen wasn’t enjoying this fight but rather, was enraged by it. It definitely seemed like an advantage when, instead of sensibly reaching for a weapon, Owen just lunged. 

An arm wrapped around the leg desperately hoping to make contact, locking it into place as he finally got to drive his fist into the man’s obnoxious face. Which all in all didn’t sound like a disadvantageous position until one took into account the wooden stake lodged into his side, something Owen didn’t properly register until knuckles met bone again and the weapon shifted deeper, daring him to ignore its presence. Gritting his teeth, he increased the pressure on the knee still caught in the lock of his arm to an uncomfortable tension, maybe not as threatening as the way he was currently being impaled but joints were pretty important. 

—

I was useful, Owen said, and it only stung because of the implication that Emilio wasn’t. It was hard, even now, to think of Rhett without it burning, to hear his brother’s name without flames rising in his chest and setting fire to his throat. There was so much buried there, a graveyard of corpses refusing to rot. With Rhett, he was fourteen years old again. He was a kid mad at the world because his brother was no longer in it, latching on to the closest thing he could find to Victor’s steady hand. Owen was useful to Rhett, and Emilio hadn’t been. Owen was what a hunter was supposed to be, what Emilio used to be, and Rhett’s alliance with him had made Emilio wonder, for a moment, if that was the only thing his brother wanted him around for. 

He forced the thought away, because it wasn’t. He hadn’t been useful in that factory, and Rhett had been willing to die for him, anyway. And maybe there was a part of him that didn’t know how to feel about his brother anymore, maybe there was a part of him that would always be sitting with Ophelia in the living room of an apartment that felt haunted with people still living and staring at Rhett’s handwriting spinning lies on a page, but he thought it still mattered. He thought it still meant something.

So he did what he did best, and he fashioned his voice into a weapon. He scoffed, he rolled his eyes. “Not very useful now, are you? Not to anybody but the vampire you’re fighting for in the other room.” Whatever was going on here, he thought that that was Owen’s current weak point. Poke it enough, and there’d be a reaction. And a reaction was all Emilio was after.

He wasn’t entirely disappointed when Owen lunged, because that was a reaction all its own. Where Owen typically preferred more taunting, he sprung into action instead. It was closer to a move Emilio would have made than what the other slayer was prone to, and it felt like some kind of victory even as Owen’s arm locked his leg into place painfully and a fist found his face.

He grunted as knuckles made contact, but grinned in spite of it. Owen’s fist wasn’t the only thing that landed properly, after all; Emilio’s stake found resistance that meant it had found itself a home, too, and he gripped it with a vicious strength. Another punch shifted it, and he held fast. He didn’t want to lose his weapon, even if he was losing it in Owen’s side.

The pressure in his knee increased uncomfortably. If it didn’t let up, the joint would dislocate and leave him in a tough spot to navigate. He knew that. The best move, strategically, would be to release the stake and focus his attention on removing Owen’s grip from around his leg instead. But Emilio struggled to make the best move when fights got personal. It was the kind of thing that got him into trouble more often than not, the kind of thing that saw him engaging in pointless struggles that were better left alone. His pettiness outweighed his self preservation, sometimes. Most of the time, really. 

Gritting his teeth, he tilted his head back to look Owen in the eye as he twisted the stake, driving it in a little deeper.

—

There had always been a decent balance between reckless and calculated when it came to the way Owen fought. He’d take chances but never ones that were all instinct and no thought. That was the headspace he usually wanted his opponent in, not the other way around yet here he was, a creature of rage and action, no thought in sight. The combination of fighting to save a vampire and Cortez had proved a lethal one - not in the literal sense but that was still a possibility if Owen let that stake sink in any deeper. 

Emilio’s grin, despite the blood now staining the man’s teeth, wasn’t helping. 

He wanted to break his knee, his face, hollow out his chest cavity but in the deep, dark confines of his twisted mind, Owen knew that none of those wants were specific to Emilio, not really. It wouldn’t be all that satisfying, not as much as dusting the vampire in the other room and nowhere close to how good it would feel to break every bone in Rosel’s body before maybe, maybe giving her the peace of real death. All that aside, it was still Emilio’s joint precariously braced in his grip and Emilio currently pushing a piece of wood that had killed countless vampires further into Owen’s midriff. 

With something resembling a growl, Owen finally relented, twisting his body and making a grab for the stake to prevent it from slipping even further and reaching something important. The move didn’t allow for him to dislocate Emilio’s precious knee joint, only allowed him to jostle it just enough so that the pain allowed for Owen to slip away. Even if there was no one to push the stake in further, the sudden movements weren’t much better as pain radiated throughout his abdomen, stealing his breath for a good few seconds. There wasn’t much else to do but yank the damn thing out and not even his burning anger could assist Owen in getting back to his feet right away. At least he was fully ready to use the blood covered stake against Emilio when he counterattacked except… oh, of course he was going straight for the vampire. 

An attempt to move, even knowing that he wouldn’t catch up in time, had warm blood bubbling from the hollowed out wound and Owen was quick to press the heel of his hand onto it, suppressing a gasp of pain. So maybe Emilio had managed to dig that thing a bit deeper than previously expected. Fuck. 

—

Owen’s grip on his knee was tight and unrelenting, and it would be a good move to let go of the stake in order to do something about it. A more strategic fighter might have done so, might have twisted out of Owen’s grip and sacrificed the stake in the process, but Emilio wasn’t thinking entirely straight. His focus remained entirely on the stake gripped in his hand, on twisting it deeper into Owen’s flesh. A little farther, and he’d do real damage. He wasn’t certain whether or not he wanted to, and he hated himself for that uncertainty. Hadn’t he been willing to kill Parker for making Teddy afraid? Hadn’t he helped Andy bury a hunter in the ground for shooting Alex? Part of him wondered what was different about Owen but, on some level, he already knew the answer: Owen’s greatest crime against him had taken place in an apartment not unlike this one, with sharp words and a hand pressing into an aching shoulder. Parker hurt Teddy, that ranger in that unmarked grave hurt Alex, but Owen hurt Emilio, and that mattered less. That would always matter less.

So he didn’t think he’d kill Owen if he didn’t have to, and he thought that probably made him a coward. He thought Owen had proven, more than once now, his willingness to hurt people, even if he hadn’t yet hurt anyone Emilio loved. If Owen were undead, Emilio would have killed him already. He would have aimed that stake into his heart, would have removed his head from his body. But Owen was a hunter, was a slayer, and that made things complicated. That always made things complicated.

He grunted as the pressure in his knee increased briefly before disappearing, the sudden lack of it disorienting enough to allow Owen to twist out of his grip as his knee ached and ebbed back into something more resembling equilibrium. It ached more than usual — there’d definitely be a bruise there — but the joint was still in place and the pain was familiar. He was able to get to his feet, albeit slowly and painfully. And, with Owen distracted by the stake still sticking out of his abdomen, Emilio was able to stumble back towards the bedroom to do what he’d come here to do. He had another stake in hand already, quick to pull it from his pocket now that his other one was preoccupied with the task of soaking Owen’s blood into its wood. 

Owen made a grab for him as he passed, but it was a useless thing. Even slowed by the pain in his knee, Emilio was quicker than the other slayer with the blood bubbling from his open wound. He paid Owen little mind as he passed, scarcely sparing a glance in the man’s direction. It would piss Owen off to be ignored, he thought; that was a good thing. 

Chest heaving, Emilio slammed against the bedroom door. The hinges cracked, the door flying open to reveal… an empty room and an open window. The vampire had clearly taken advantage of the slayers’ scuffle to escape, and Emilio let out a furious exhale, frustrated despite the victory that was Owen lying bleeding in the floor. He’d track the vampire down later, he decided. He’d find it when Owen wasn’t around, and maybe he’d take it slow. Maybe he’d take it out piece by piece until it told him why Owen was willing to take a damn stake to the side just to keep it from getting dusted. 

Pocketing the stake, Emilio turned back towards the living room with a scowl. His limp was more prominent than usual despite his attempts to hide it as he moved back into the living room, aiming a kick for the stab wound in Owen’s side. “Could kill you here,” he said lowly, pretending they didn’t both know he wouldn’t. “But I think it’s more fun to let you stew in it. Next time I see your friend, I’m turning it into dust. Better go ahead and pick up a broom.”

—

To anyone who knew him, however superficially, it probably wasn’t a surprise that the thought of losing stung much worse than any injury, current or past. Emilio hobbling past him without a second glance, it wasn’t just salt in the metaphorical wound but ground up glass and battery acid. Owen knew that Emilio knew and that, too, was a real bitch. On top of all of it, protecting a vampire, raising Cortez’s suspicion and getting stabbed was all about to be for nought as the door flew off its hinges. Only…

Amidst the anger and stab wound, Owen hadn’t exactly been focusing on whether or not he could still sense the vampire. Emilio’s furious exhale registered around the same time as the complete lack of discomfort crawling up his spine. So they’d both lost. It wasn’t the preferred scenario but it still beat Emilio leaving here with an overblown sense of victory. 

It was odd, watching the other slayer drag their useless leg back into the main room, knowing full well that despite all his big talk, Emilio wouldn’t kill him. Not like this. Maybe in the heat of the moment, in self defense or to protect someone else but slicing his throat now? Owen wasn’t even remotely worried. Not that he would have been worried even if Emilio was feeling murderous - even with an active hemorrhage, Owen wouldn’t have admitted defeat until the last second. 

Shifting to avoid a direct hit to the hole in his abdomen did hurt like a bitch, though. 

And so Emilio pretended that he was making an active choice not to pull out a weapon and Owen pretended the other man didn’t currently have the higher ground. At the distinct sound of one healthy leg and one worse for wear walking off, Owen found himself laughing through gritted teeth despite the way it forced more blood to gush past the pressure of his palm. “See you soon, Cortez,” he called after the other, voice echoing through the rundown apartment. A few more moments to stew in the absolute shit that this scenario was, then he’d attempt to find something to cauterize this damn wound. Probably while fantasizing about driving the blood soaked stake in his hand back into its owner at a later date. 

[cgadzfna]

In The Dragon Republic specifically, do you think Nezha confided in Venka about everything going on with Rin, their growing friendship, all the fighting etc or is everyone else simply drawing their conclusions about the two from observation? Kitay is ofcourse there for Rin but even when she can't bring herself to say anything he's observant and smart, so he'd figure it out. It makes me think about that one moment in chapter 34 I think it was, where Venka's helping Rin get dressed and as soon as she sees Nezha she's all smug like 'have fun' before immediately trying to flee the scene. And even before she walks out Nezha makes a comment about Rin's knot saying it's pretty and Venka continues to tease him, winking when she says it's 'even prettier on the wearer.' That was such a light hearted moment (for a change) and made me curious about how much she knew

Personally, I don’t think Nezha would have confided in Venka. He lashes out when he’s scared, insecure, unsure, etc, all the times he insulted or hurt rin when she presented something that conflicted with his ideals or perception of the world (ex. a southerner at Sinegard, her criticism of jinzha, etc), but when it comes to his deepest feelings he keeps them bottled up until he physically can’t anymore, often because rin pushes him ‘too far’. For example, her repeatedly calling him a coward and unintentionally striking at his deep rooted trauma and him finally blowing up after revealing the story of the Dragon. When she doesn’t push though, he refuses to reveal anything deep, like when he denies calling her name as the Federation dragged him away, as well as him only telling her about his nightmares of her death when he’s convinced they’ll die the next day (and obviously still not revealing all the details of those dreams), and him never revealing his true feelings to her at all, instead stifling then as we see in TDF. He’ll reveal ‘surface-level’ feelings, i.e fear during battle, anger, frustration, etc but not the ones held deepest, i.e, his trauma (aside from that one scene, and only after she pushed him and he’d thought she’d died), and his love and fear for/of rin. So I don’t think he would’ve confided in venka, because I don’t think he can or would know how to. Moreso, their relationship fundamentally changed after he refused to let her fight on campaign with them. that’s when something in their relationship irreparably fractured (and her allegiance subtly shifted towards rin). Even if they were still on ‘good terms’ after that, it wasn’t the same because he’d denied her her autonomy, decided for her what she was capable of handling or not, restricting her from doing the one thing that might give her some sense of self/‘worth’/autonomy back. They didn’t interact much before the campaign started, and he always treated her as if she were fragile when he did. their relationship was fraught, and I think they both sensed that, whether or not they actively acknowledged it. I’m not sure she would have been in the right headspace pre-campaign even if he had told her either (because I think the last thing on her mind with all her other worries would’ve been a budding relationship between rinezha). However, the scene you’re referring to is post-Battle of Red Cliffs, when they’d all just survived a ‘final’ battle of epic proportions, presumed unwinnable, and after she’d already ‘proven’ herself with her archery skills during it. Like you said, it’s a lighter moment, and they’re all in disbelief and relieved so I think she let those comments slip because she’s just glad they’re alive against all odds. The usual somberness/grim reality of warfare is temporarily suspended in that victorious, post-battle haze and they can ‘relax’ a little, hence her words. On a different note, to finally answer your original question lol, I believe venka intuited his feelings herself. She’s spent most of her youth being prepared to be the ‘proper’ wife by her parents, and with her cleverness and perceptiveness, she would’ve learned quickly how to tell where, when, and how a man’s interest in a woman lies, whether it’s romantic, sexual, predatory, etc, as that’s what she needed to watch out for, gauging any potential suitors chosen by her parents. this is reaffirmed when she asks rin how she’d survived so long without feminine wiles, implying that her [venka]’s feminine wiles include knowing when a man is interested and how to handle that (seeing as her life before Sinegard largely revolved around that). Nezha’s interest would’ve been obvious.  Plus, she’s been friends with him for a long time, even if their relationship changed, she would’ve been able to tell, just like how kitay was able to know that nezha would throw himself off a cliff for rin. Great ask OP! i really wracked my brain for this question since I haven’t read the series in a while, thanks for giving me the chance to analyze again! 

[kokorowoutsu]

-- RP: @pokemon-experiments

pokemon-experiments:

At the mention of the moon festival Ruko froze. That was something he had tried hard to forget. It had brought back so many complicated feelings that he thought were gone. How Ashe had kind of forced her way onto the shrine maidens. How he felt like he had been an annoyance to those who had a proper invitation. Even now he had begun to forget about those events, but Ashe mentioning it brought the memories back along with the feelings. He would gently curl up and stare at the ground. "Are...Are you sure it won't be like the moon festival?...I caused you a lot of problems than..." He would be lying if he said he wasn't afraid of things repeating themselves. Not the creature but the feeling of isolation. How it felt like only certain people were allowed any form of recognition. How he felt like he was subtly called a coward for helping others to safety. The fact that he had to sleep out in the cold without the time to find or build proper shelter. It all left him feeling awful. Especially because he thought that the others had abandoned him by choice. That assumptions still made him feel ashamed of himself. "I...I want to say yes, but what if it turns out like last time? What if I make the wrong assumptions again, or I get treated differently because I have a different reaction from others?"

The movements and the look in Ruko's eyes brought back feelings Ashe had long since pushed away and tried to forget, but now they were at the forefront again. She had abandoned her brother in a way that day and forced her feelings onto others -- something she was notorious for doing and had learned to try and stop doing in the meanwhile... but maybe there were some things you just couldn't change out of... but then again, maybe it could grow into something more positive... and less... this.

Complicated thoughts were shoved aside as she laid a hand to her brother's shoulder and placed another hand over her own heart, a smile on her features. "-- It won't. I promise you that. This festival we're going because it's open to everyone and that and we're not going halfway across the multiverse for that. I think we'd know if demons were cropping up in our own backyard." No, she made sure to show him exactly where they were going on a map via her RotomPhone.

Kitakami laid somewhere around the coast of Sinnoh, somewhere near and far between there and Johto, oddly enough.

"If anything wants to pick a fight, it'll be something we know we can handle." She didn't think anything would, and she was going not expecting to fight -- taking a few pokemon at best to enjoy the festival and really just enjoy time with her family.

Either way, she wanted Ruko to at least have one positive festival experience whatever it was.

"No demons this time, Ruko. I promise." She speaks softly, her hand moving to rest on his head and ruffle his fur just a bit. "Just me, you, Kianga, and a few pokemon, and maybe Leon and Grusha."

[miraculouscontent]

It��s heeeeere! Another summasalt, this time with nearly twice the length of the first one!

(Turns out that not having caffeine doesn’t help me talk any slower.)

Script below:

Anonymous asked:

Thoughts on Rocketear?

Can you Rocketear the newest episode apart with your salt, my beloved Salt Queen?

Penny for your thoughts on Rocketear?

Aw, anon! You can have that for free! I'm a generous goddess.

"Rocketear" begins with Chat Noir and Carapace - just Carapace, really - holding back a pack of what I presume to be the physical manifestation of the writing staff's age, or at least a representation of how behind the times the writing seems.

Just as the dinosaurs break through Shellter. Ladybug shows up with the scientist who revived the dinosaurs in the first place and said scientist uses a whistle to calm the dinosaurs down. There's also a line from Bob Roth about putting the dinosaurs in a theme park to make money and I know what it's referencing but it's so incredibly random that it doesn't really come off as a proper joke.

Carapace was notably sad right after battle, but insisted that he was fine when Ladybug asked. Rena, sporting a... - I would like to say "new design" but it's a recolor in every sense of the word - is hiding behind part of a building and smiles after the heroes before walking off. Ladybug takes Nino's miraculous back but sees that he's still upset and asks him again what's wrong. Nino asks where Alya was and Ladybug claims that she only needed Carapace for the job, which cheers him up but only until Ladybug is already gone.

Mm, I guess Nino and Adrien relate in heroism not being enough for them unless they have their respective love interest to flirt with.

Also, I know this is an obvious set-up, but the show can't tell me that Ladybug just always brought Nino and Alya whenever she needed one of them. Season 3 required her to go to Master Fu to get the miraculouses, and unless she already knew that Nino and Alya would be in the same location - which, okay, the show does basically shove the two of them together whenever Nino is onscreen, fair, if two characters are in a relationship in this show then it's weird for them to NOT be with that person - but it just seems like a gamble, not to mention proof to Shadow Moth that the two are close if Ladybug constantly brings both of them.

Anyway, Ladybug goes into the sewer and asks Rena if she's seen any sign of Shadow Moth or his traps. Rena didn't see anything and they de-transform. Marinette is about to leave when she thinks of something, but Alya assumes it's about her new look, which was apparently not voluntary on her part and the suit automatically adapted to Alya's new role as Rena Furtive, which she has now named it as.

Marinette reminds her that this is supposed to be a secret and that they agreed that the fox has no owner. When Alya is evasive about whether she told Nino that she won't be Rena anymore, Marinette stresses that everyone needs to believe that Alya won't be using a miraculous anymore so that she can remain an undercover spy.

What's the point in changing the look if you're not going to show yourself anyway? I mean, insurance, I guess, but still.

Alya, exasperated, parrots what Marinette has apparently told her before: that she helps Ladybug with Mirage in case Shadow Moth tries to follow her so Rena can follow him instead. Marinette stresses the situation again and Alya tries to get Marinette to agree on her telling Nino that she's Rena Furtive, but Marinette refuses.

At Marinette's house, Alya talks further and explains that she doesn't know if she can lie to Nino since they don't keep any secrets--Alya, babe, you kept Rena Rouge from him and didn't tell him that you knew he was Carapace until Ladybug was forced to give you your miraculouses at the same time. I don't wanna hear it.

Marinette states that it's too late for that and also not technically a lie, but Alya gets upset and says that Nino will never trust her again if he finds out that she kept something from him. Marinette brings up how she had to keep secrets from Alya too, but they're interrupted by Tom appearing and wanting to play games with them. Marinette makes an excuse about homework that she's repeated many times, as Tom comments that the teachers give her too much. After Tom is kicked out - hang on, lemme just... - Marinette uses the moment to show Alya that she's lied to her family a lot and hasn't played games with her father in months. She states that there's no other option as they have to protect their identities, and Alya agrees to talk to Nino.

In Alya's room - I just presume at this point that Nino's house doesn't exist and Chris is an illusion - Alya tells Nino that they need to talk, but stammers and states that it's hard to talk about. Nino thinks that she wants to break up with him, but Alya assures that she loves him. She finally gets to the cover story that Rena herself made up in "Sentibubbler" and Nino understands, sad that she won't be around anymore but agreeing if it's what Ladybug thinks is best.

Is it weird that Nino respects Ladybug's wishes more than Alya does?

Nino hugs her and is confused by why Alya was nervous to tell him, as she can tell him anything and nothing will change their relationship. Alya feels guilty and hugs back, murmuring about how they don't have any secrets; that's not what Nino said, but sure, push this plot to its already predictable conclusion. I mean, I thought it was vaguely sweet that Nino switched to seriousness immediately when Alya said that she wanted to talk, but how am I supposed to be invested in this couple when their dynamic boils down to "STRONG, INDEPENDANT WOMAN who wears the pants in the relationship because her boyfriend is portrayed as a wimpy coward"? Like, the show constantly dragged Nino down to make Alya look "powerful" by comparison, and then when it comes to characters like Marinette, we get a girl who works very well outside of her relationship with her endgame love interest.

It's the fakest form of "girl power," dragging guys down to raise girls up or actually making a strong girl character but having her love interest be a weakness that creates flaws in her that weren't there originally and having that love interest be who she's "destined for."

I'm rambling, sorry.

In class, Marinette assures Alya that she did the right thing and Alya agrees. As they're leaving school, Marinette talks about how their "night walks" start soon, and Alya non-subtly talks about how Rena Furtive will be on the lookout while Ladybug and Chat Noir patrol. She stops, however, as gets excited about some pictures she took of herself as Rena Furtive, which has a lot of details that Marinette hasn't seen. I don't know whether to groan at what I just heard or remind everyone that Rena Furtive is literally just a recolor and therefore this is the writers patting themselves on the back for this design, so let's just move on.

Alya then shows Marinette her phone--AUGH, MY EYES--and suggests making a poll on her Ladyblog so people can vote for their favorite Rena design. Marinette has to stress again that Rena Furtive is supposed to be a spy and thus invisible, which Alya admits that she forgot about.

Okay, I've been holding off on talking about this, but now seems like the best time to bring it up. Alya has been a trash friend as well as a trash confidant, and her role as Rena Rouge boiled down to, "it was convenient for her to be the fox at the time it was needed." She's not particularly stealthy like one would expect of a fox, and she was easily one of the worst candidates to be told Marinette's big secret. I'll get more into this later, but I have to stress that Alya has treated Marinette no differently since learning of Marinette's identity and has already gone against Marinette's orders once before at the time of this episode airing. Episodes are constantly torn between validating their decision to have Marinette tell Alya, having Marinette be worried about the decision while the show considers her to be ridiculous for it, and then having Alya either consider or make choices that clearly don't gel well with what's good for her role. Much like Marinette, she lacks a sense of self-control and--wow, a female character who's impulsive, never seen that stereotype before.

Point being, "Sentibubbler" stressed over and over that Alya was the right choice and deserved to be both the permanent fox and the understudy for guardian, but then we have "Rocketear" here where Alya is making basic emotionally-driven errors that I'm not even remotely sympathetic to when Marinette has gone through so much worse over the course of three+ seasons.

*sigh*

Alya laments that it's hard to find new content for the Ladyblog - ah, yes, tell me more about your struggles, Alya - but figures that at least she can post stuff about Chat Noir instead of--I don't know--making fake Ladybug theories to lead people off Marinette's trail. Marinette says that it's a great idea, though Alya still doesn't look too happy. The scene then rewinds to a little bit to show a different point of view, this time with Adrien and Nino. Wait, this feels familiar, wasn't there another episode that did something like--ohhhh no, this is going to hurt.

After saying good-bye to Adrien - something I wish I could do every time he's mentioned or on-screen - Nino catches the bit of conversation where Alya talks about the Ladyblog. Nino talks as if Marinette isn't there and asks Alya out to the movies because Marinette is chopped liver and this is about Alya and how sad she is, guys.

Wow, she's turning into Adrien faster and faster.

Alya hesitates, but Marinette assures her that there's still time. Alya excitedly runs off with Nino and they watch what I presume are previews given the narrator, featuring recycled footage from the Ladybug PV. Nino is upset because Rena is mentioned but not Carapace, and the preview features Rena telling Chat Noir to forget Ladybug because it's Chat and Rena herself who are trulu made for each other.

I don't know what's funnier; the complete lack of self-awareness or the suggestion that a biracial couple would exist in this show outside of a special that gives them maybe a minute of screentime and acts more like suggestive canon anyway. I think I might've been too generous with that line about dinosaurs.

Nino is offended by the preview and Alya brushes off his comments, stating that it's just a cartoon and it's made to entertain people, though Nino himself is certainly not entertained. Can't say I entirely blame him considering that Alya doesn't really try to say anything substantial or even agree with him. No cuddling or reassuring kisses, she just gets slightly sad and turns to her phone for a bit.

After the movie, Nino is cheered back up again until he catches Alya on her phone once more. He offers to take her home, but she's distracted, and he comments that what she showed to Marinette looked pretty nice; I don't know because they didn't show it. Nino asks what it was and Alya evades the question, stating that her battery is running out. Nino is suspicious, but spots Andre's ice cream cart and the two head over there. Andre calls them his favorite couple and asks what they want, but Alya sees Ladybug gesturing for her and has to run off, giving Nino a cheek kiss as she goes which feels like too little too late at this point.

Nino catches some conveniently-placed kids arguing over who Chat Noir loves, but they settle on the fact that girls in general love Chat Noir. Nino is then seen at the Seine watching the Ladyblog's latest video, where Alya is talking up how amazing Chat Noir is. I hate to stop every five seconds to complain - okay, actually I don't - but I presume this video must've been made after the movie since Nino seems like the type who would actively follow his girlfriend's blog, yet not only is this video perfectly set up to echo the kids and the movie preview, but Alya - despite apparently caring about her boyfriend soooo much that she kept trying to convince Marinette to bend the rules - didn't even try to warn Nino or text him so he doesn't take it too seriously. It's like "Sentibubbler" with the conflicting messages about identity rules; Alya cares about her boyfriend but both isn't thinking about how he'll take the things she says and apparently doesn't know him well enough to realize that he wouldn't be mad over her keeping a secret that she was told to keep. I already talked about how they play up Nino to be the emotionally weaker one of the relationship, but then they don't have Alya try to cover or make up for that. She's been acting very much not like Alya - you know, the one who in "Sapotis" practically bragged about how great she'd be at covering for Ladybug - with her stutters and weak excuses, so I can't completely blame Nino for being upset after everything that's happened when he sees the writers projecting onto Alya as she talks about how Chat Noir is brave and funny and cute and showing all these images of him as well. I don't agree with all of his actions, but--oh yeah, speaking of which--

Nino calls Adrien and is talking to him about how Alya must be in love with someone else. Adrien dismisses the idea, as Alya and Nino are together basically all the time, and asks who she could possibly be in love with. When Nino suggests that it's Chat Noir, Adrien laughs and jokes about it being Fang instead. Nino points out the video but Adrien did see it but is overall unphased and convinced that it means nothing. Nino says that he'll find proof and hangs up, but Adrien is certain he'll find nothing. Plagg comments that Nino will find someone because Plagg's charisma has definitely contaminated Adrien.

Ugh.

Adrien expresses concern that he put on the cat's charm too much and accidentally made Alya fall for him, and decides to visit Alya as Chat Noir to be sure.

Meanwhile, we get a reference to film noirs as Nino narrates. That's the second blatant reference this episode and now I feel like they wrote this script while doing a movie marathon.

Chat Noir arrives at Alya's house and Trixx hides before Alya opens the curtains to reveal her surprise guest. Nino is nearby watching the scene with his phone as Alya wonders aloud if something's wrong. Chat assures that everything's fine, but brings up the video she posted. He insists that it made him happy, but points out that she's been following him and Ladybug since the beginning and that they know each other much better due to everything that's happened. He has some conveniently-worded dialog as he starts to say that he hopes something's just an illusion and Alya gets worried that he's about to bring up Rena. Chat continues and clarifies that he wonders if she started to feel something for him, though adds that he understands because just look at him.

UGGGGH.

Chat clarifies by making a heart with his hands, which Nino sees. Alya laughs at this gesture and states that she has a boyfriend, doing the same heart gesture and suggesting that her love for Nino is even more than that. Chat Noir apologizes - hm, I didn't know he had the capacity to do that - and hugs Alya, saying that he was just confused.

An absolutely unnecessary hug for two people who, at least in terms of their current selves, have had very little screentime together, but this is also the show where making eye contact basically means your friends and it's all just to push the plot along so Nino inteprets that Alya is in love with Chat Noir, so whatever I guess.

Alya states that Nino is far more irresistable than Chat, then adds that she doesn't even know his secret identity, and she'd never fall in love with someone she doesn't know. Nino then runs away upset and the scene cuts away to the next day where--

Wait, wait, wait, hang on a second. Two things right off the bat there.

First off, we're just gonna sidle past that "wouldn't fall in love with someone you don't know the identity of" while ignoring the existence of the love square? Not even Chat thinking about how he doesn't know Ladybug's identity and trying to excuse that he doesn't have to? This guy is that certain of their relationship?

Secondly, Nino is practically sobbing and Shadow Moth doesn't take this as his opportunity? Same guy who akumatized Mr. Pigeon 72 times and has akumatized Gigantitan more than once? What is this pacing???

But--alright, so Adrien comes into school and sees Nino, still dressed up in his detective gear, which gets ignored completely as Adrien goes to tell him about Chat Noir and Alya. Because the show doesn't know how Adrien would convey this within reason, Nino interrupts him, taking him down into the lower part of the school where he has a desk and chairs set up. Adrien goes to ask when Nino had time to do this, but Nino slams his hand on the desk to cut him off. Nino presents the evidence he took and they go back and forth, likewise with Adrien turning off the background music while Nino turns it back on. Adrien insists that it's a misunderstanding, but pleads innocent when Nino asks how he knows. Adrien states that Alya is just a superhero fan and that she and Chat Noir have nothing in common.

Again, the complete lack of self-awareness is astonishing.

Adrien repeats what Alya said about secret identities and how she wouldn't fall for someone she doesn't know - they're really ignoring this, aren't they? - and continues hitting Nino's soft spots about how unlikely it is until Nino decides to tell Adrien something he's not supposed to.

He tells Adrien, not only that Alya is Rena Rouge, but that he's Carapace. Adrien goes through a range of emotions beyond sAD for once, shocked at the fact that they know each other's identities. Nino states that they don't keep secrets from each other, except now Alya is with Chat Noir. Adrien still doesn't understand and brings up how secret identities have to be protected, or else Nino wouldn't have told him because Ladybug wouldn't agree to it.

Oh, here we go. So that's why they waited.

Nino states that it was Ladybug herself who gave them their miraculouses at the same time; not giving the reason why, of course, nor pointing out that they're temporary heroes so there's understandably some leeway. Adrien is having a moment, but manages to bring the subject back to Alya and Chat Noir, who he still doesn't think are a thing. Nino argues that it's because Adrien doesn't know Chat Noir, but he does because he's Carapace and knows how Chat Noir acts. He says that it's all flowers and confessions when Ladybug appears, but he gets rejected because Ladybug thinks that he's annoying, and she's right. He adds that Chat flirts with Rena Rouge and that's all that needs to happen, with Chat stepping in on the first mission Carapace lost in. Nino laments the loss of the love of his life and wishes to shut Chat Noir up forever; we all do, Nino, we all do. Shadow Moth finally steps in with - oh, less than eight minutes left in the episode, yikes - and Nino is akumatized into Rocketear.

Rocketear rejects Adrien's pleas to stop, insisting that Chat Noir is who he's after, not Adrien, and Adrien transforms in sad fashion despite Plagg's reminder of who Rocketear is after. Alya, meanwhile, is in the art club with Marinette - wait, since when was Alya in the art club - telling Marinette about how Chat Noir thought she was into him due to the video, which Marinette groans at. There's an earthquake and they peek outside to see Rocketear firing his tears at Chat Noir, shouting that he stole Alya from him. Chat Noir tries to tell him otherwise, but Rocketear won't listen.

Alya groans at Nino doing this, then she and Marinette set off to find a place to transform. They conveniently go to the same place Adrien and Nino were, so they see the desk that Nino had set up.

Genuine question, how seriously does this episode want me to take itself, because now when I recount all the unnecessary love square drama in my head - because you know that's where this is going - I'm going to have to think, "Nino, dressed in a detective outfit, ripped off his fake mustache and told Adrien both his and Rena's identities, and also that Ladybug was totally cool with it and thinks that Chat Noir is annoying."

Gettin' two completely different vibes here. The episode clearly wants to be important but it doesn't take itself seriously either, which it totally could while including enough jokes to keep things light. Instead, I'm just left scratching my head and wondering what tone they're going for.

Marinette finds Nino's phone on the desk - I'm calling continuity error on that one because he at no point put it on the desk, at least not on-screen - and she questions Alya on the video she sees. Alya insists that nothing happened, apparently completely unphased by her boyfriend having spied on her, and says that he wouldn't have misunderstood if he'd heard the actual conversation.

The two transform and Ladybug immediately uses Lucky Charm, receiving a projector. Ladybug is clueless and Rena Furtive suggests creating an imaginary movie like Nino. Ladybug gets an idea, remembering Alya's earlier comments, and Rena confirms that she remembers every word of it.

Aaaaand, just like that, all of the tension has been completely sucked away. You know, "Backwarder" was a trash episode, but at least when Ladybug was showing every step of her plan, she didn't tell us what it was.

Meanwhile, Rocketear and Chat Noir are still arguing--I started zoning out at hearing the same thing over and over again at this point, so I just presume they were fighting over who does stuff behind their love interest's backs better; I don't think they came to an agreement but they're both losers anyway.

Chat Noir says that he'll prove his innocence, tossing his baton aside to show him giving up, but Rocketear points out that it proves nothing and strikes Chat Noir with his tears.

Our endgame love interest, everyone. Straight As yet about as smart as a sack of bricks, and that at least won't flirt with anyone non-consensually.

Chat Noir makes a point that he doesn't want to hurt Rocketear, and Shadow Moth tells Rocketear to take his miraculous before finishing him. Chat Noir can only weakly tell him not to before Ladybug snags Rocketear's wrist and diverts the shot. Ladybug explains to Rocketear about the projector and how it'll let him hear the audio of the recording he took. She adds that she doesn't know what Chat said, but she trusts him.

Marinette, I'm sorry, I feel so bad for you.

Ladybug turns on the projector and Rocketear relaxes at actually hearing what was going on. Rena then de-transforms and hurries out to meet with Rocketear, hugging him as Rocketear apologizes for doubting her. Alya also kinda sorta apologizes in a way I don't understand and Rocketear then breaks his akumatization, very casually, all on his own.

Yeah, just--casually, in a matter of seconds in fact. You know, it's really sad when people resisting akumatizations are more tense and emotionally compelling than them breaking them. This is twice in one season now and has zero impact considering that Nino's reason for being akumatized was already taken care of so he had no reason to stay akumatized anyway. Him breaking his own object to release the akuma would've at least been different, but instead it's just a repeat of what Alya went through with even less tension considering that Alya's wasn't even that good in the first place, relying on her relationship to Ladybug rather than who she knew to be her best friend.

Moving on, Ladybug captures the akuma and uses Miraculous Ladybug to bring everything back to normal. Shadow Moth monologues about how love and secrets don't go well together and he's sure that she has a lot and I'll talk about this later.

Ladybug hands over the magical charm, which Nino takes but insists that he won't need it, as he'll never let Shadow Moth use his love to manipulate him again. Plenty of other things to get akumatized over, but they gave the supposedly ace character a robot to help him stick out and also gave the supposedly aro character a miraculous back in season one to give her more importance. If characters aren't in love then they need something to ceompensate for it.

Nino apologizes to Chat Noir for being wrong and Chat Noir assures him that everyone has doubts, even him. He gets sad and Ladybug asks him what's wrong, but he insists that he's fine - officially throwing away his right to be upset at her later as far as I'm concerned - and they do their usual fist buuuuu--

...Really?

Everyone then splits up and Chat Noir sulks by himself instead of--you know, talking to Ladybug, or asking her anything, or making any sort of excuse for her because that would mean he actually has faith in her and understands that their partnership is different from temporary heroes, even if the excuse was as basic as her wanting to protect him more than the others because he would be that egotistical if they didn't want to stretch out this unnecessary drama.

Later on, Adrien is staring at a picture on the Ladyblog that might be a metaphor for the show considering how "in the foreground" Chat Noir and Rena are.

Adrien vents about Ladybug giving miraculouses to Alya and Nino, but Plagg states that she's the guardian. Adrien clarifies that he's referring to Alya and Nino knowing each other's identities, but Plagg doesn't see the issue. Adrien gets huffy and asks why the rule exists for LadyNoir but not Ninya, but Plagg again points out that she's the guardian, so she makes the rules, though obviously he uses cheese metaphors to convey it.

Okay, Plagg is only, like--half-right because he doesn't have all the information. If you don't mind me rambling for a bit, I'm on the fence here because, on one hand--yes, I agree that Marinette should be allowed to make her own rules, and I often do that in my writing because I think she should be permitted leeway in order to let herself be happy, but on the other hand, it's not technically her rule, as she had to let Alya and Nino in on their identities back in the Season 2 finale, so Fu was still around for a season. She wasn't even guardian yet!

Now, presumably so the fandom could blame Marinette if anything happened, Marinette never discussed this with Fu on-screen, so I can't say whether or not Fu knew, but I feel like he must've since Marinette had to have told him the heroes' identities off-screen, given "Party Crasher," and thus I imagine that Marinette would tell Fu everything that happened, which is consistent with what she does on-screen even if she'd keep things from him for a little while.

"Furious Fu" had also established that not even Master Fu followed rules completely, meaning that Marinette is in this awkward spot of mostly following what Fu taught her, which aren't all guardian rules anyway, and having to break the rules on occasion for various purposes. I can't say what Fu approved of and what he didn't, because episodes spend so much time on the love square that they forget about Marinette as a person and how she interacts with everyone else. From an emotional standpoint, I can't blame Marinette for not revoking the miraculouses of people whose identities get discovered because of her, as I imagine she feels guilty and it probably doesn't seem fair to force them into another miraculous or have them be entirely without one because of a mistake that she made, meaning that someone needs to be throwing a lot of red flags for Marinette to be through with them.

Though obviously, from the show's standpoint, it's just an excuse to not make new models, but I complained about that enough in "Sentibubbler" and this episode even went out of its way to design a detective model for Nino while spraypainting Alya's bodysuit in the same breath, so this is the world we live in.

Anyway, Marinette is essentially in this position where she still has Fu's rules hovering over her, but she's also trying to step out on her own and make her own decisions to varying degrees of success or failure depending on your point of view. Tikki--wait, no, bad idea--Su-Han then, could easily give input on these things, perhaps with Marinette discussing a modern day set of rules for someone her age and going back and forth with Su-Han on what the right choices to make are, finding something that's comfortable but within a realm of predictable control. Su-Han was okay with some rules being broken after seeing how Ladybug handled them and they could've easily made this episode about that instead, but instead, we get rules being set and then being broken on a writer's whim.

Which now brings us to the end of the episode, where Marinette is on the phone with Alya and apologizes for causing trouble between her and Nino. Alya tells her not to worry and she'll fix things - you know, those things that, to Marinette's knowledge, have already been fixed - and asks if Marinette trusts her. Marinette does, and Alya hangs up in order to face Nino.

Yeah, that feeling of dread in your stomach? That means you know how predictable the writing is and what's about to happen, good for you.

Alya explains that she has to tell Nino something and he's worried, this time trying to sheepishly break the tension. She explains that she's still Rena Rouge, much to Nino's shock, and adds that she's in hiding, which is why Ladybug didn't want her to tell anyone. Nino asks why she's telling him if she's not supposed to tell anyone - proving my point from a while back that he wouldn't have been upset had she kept it a secret - then asks if Ladybug agreed with it.

I want to give him a pat on the back for considering Ladybug, but he didn't even tell her when he had the chance that Adrien knows his identity now, so I'm just beaten down at this point.

Instead of answering the question directly, Alya says that she can't hide her identity from him because she loves him and they don't have secrets.

You know, like Nino telling Adrien about Rena's identity, or Alya saying specifically that she's a permanent holder, which I'm sure both of them will confess to since they said that they don't have--aaaaand the episode ends on happy triumphant music, okay.

I mean, I guess Alya at least didn't tell him that Marinette was Ladybug, but that is such a low bar and not even remotely worthy of congratulations when Alya told Nino the specific thing that Marinette told Alya not to tell; the thing that they had agreed on.

Nino wasn't upset anymore. He won't be getting akumatized either. Alya endured the supposed hardship of being a permanent fox holder for four episodes before breaking down and telling her boyfriend. Even her excuse doesn't hold any water because, again, they're both still technically keeping a secret, particularly Alya who knows Marinette's identity as Ladybug. The episode also apparently forgets that Alya and Marinette's friendship must not be as strong by her logic of telling Nino specifically everything, as Alya kept Rena Rouge a secret from Marinette for all of Season 3, but tells Nino about continuing to be Rena Rouge in Season 4. Boyfriends before BFFs without explicitly saying it, or to be more specific, whatever screws Marinette over the most, because that's what this comes down to, made worse by "Optigami" where Marinette told Alya that she'd tell her everything and I guess that doesn't go both ways.

"Sentibubbler" had Alya stress that no one would ever know. She promised Marinette and told Marinette to trust her, and the episode spent its entire running time talking her up and assuring Marinette that she was the right choice, even considering Marinette ridiculous for worrying when Alya had done something without Marinette's permission the episode right before it. Then, three episodes after "Sentibubbler," when Marinette is finally comfortable and trusts Alya completely, Alya betrays that trust. Nino betrayed that trust, knowing he wasn't supposed to do so but telling Adrien his and Rena's identity anyway, because he was losing an argument and needed to PROVE something.

Marinette gives them an inch and they take a mile. Marinette bent the rules so that they could continue to have the miraculous they'd started with and they disrespected her because it was hard for like a day.

And if this bites them back, it won't reflect poorly on them, it'll reflect poorly on Marinette.

It's not like Alya just overrode Marinette. She didn't go, "Hey, I'm telling Nino, I'm sorry," or tried her hardest to go back and forth with Marinette until they both agreed. No, she did what she told Marinette she wouldn't do without saying a word to her, because LOVE and SEEEECRETS.

And this only applies to her, of course, because don't think I didn't notice the parallels between this episode and "Truth," because WOW.

Episode begins with Marinette hoping for something and it blows up in her face? A date at the cinema that ends on a sour note? Plot-centric couple trying to get Andre's ice cream and the female with a secret needing to leave in a hurry? Boyfriend character getting akumatized over their girlfriend's secret? Boyfriend assumes/suggests that the girlfriend's secret involves Aaaaaadrien - or his alter-ego in "Rocketear"'s case - and the episode hints as much to him even though he's completely wrong? Akuma's colors are blue and black? THE BRIDGE?

But, ahhh, little difference, here and there, y'know, like how Marinette was forced to break up with her boyfriend while Alya got to keep hers, and Nino got to have long talks with Alya while Luka got little to nothing with Marinette.

Because do note that Alya, while trying to convince Marinette and talk to Nino about not keeping secrets, at no point suggests that Marinette deserves to be happy and deserves to have a boyfriend and that Marinette should be allowed to tell Luka her secret so they can get back together, so you have Alya here selfishly prioritizing her relationship with Nino while making no comment about Marinette's relationship, essentially asking Marinette to allow her what Marinette herself didn't have the luxury of, and Alya knows this because Marinette told her. It is both incredibly insensitive of Alya and incredibly insulting of the show to make so many parallels between this episode and "Truth" just to have everything crash down for Marinette because she's Marinette while everything goes well for Alya and Nino because they're not Marinette.

We've talked before about the formulas that are literally baked into the show, and one of those is how Marinette makes a mistake in every episode and has to learn from it. What that mistake is in this episode, I don't know, but considering that she apologizes for Alya and Nino's problems, I guess the show blames her for what they themselves had taught her.

Point being, there's a clear karma system in place, but it only applies to Marinette, and forcing her to mess up in every episode means that she is literally not allowed to be with Luka because had she been able to clear things up between them, he would've eagerly accepted her and they could've been happy. It'd be too difficult for her to mess up when Luka doesn't put mountains of pressure and expectations on her like everyone else. Factor that in with how she can be herself around him and it leads to situation that are too difficult for her to screw up in because her mistakes - more often than not - center around Adrien or her role as guardian.

And because another rule in the show is to bring up Adrien so they don't "lose him for too long," she can't avoid bringing him up either. If he's not in the plot, he has to be mentioned, leaving Marinette in a lose-lose situation that she'll never be free from.

So, let me just get this straight then:

The guy who spied on his girlfriend instead of talking to her about his assumptions gets to keep his girlfriend, not because he realized it was wrong regardless of whether he was correct or not, but because the situation had been cleared up for him, yet the guy who actively resisted his akumatization, saddened by his girlfriend's secrets but wanting her to share them when she was ready, gets broken up with and tossed to the wayside because he's not a rich blond boy who got a miraculous because he happened to be within the twenty meters of space where Fu was searching for new holders?

Meanwhile, the girlfriend who has gone against the wishes and insistence of her best friend - guardian of the miraculouses, by the way, so she calls the shots, something that Alya herself said in "Optigami" BEFORE GOING ON TO DO HER OWN THING IN THE SAME EPISODE AND BEING REWARDED FOR IT - is allowed to go against the wishes and insistence of her best friend again for the sake of "all love, no secrets" with her boyfriend and so she can have the happy ending she wants, yet the girl who was chosen for a miraculous without her consent, forced to screw up and talk about a random boy who doesn't even go out of his way to spend time with her, treated like absolute trash by writers who find humor in her misery, and is the only one to receive overly harsh and long-lasting consequences for her actions while also covering up and forgiving the actions of others within the episode where they do it...

doesn't get her happy ending, and won't ever get her happy ending. That thing Shadow Moth said about love and secrets not going well together? Yeah, only goes as far as the writers want it to, because both Nino and Alya still have secrets, and some of the ones they did tell each other were forced by someone else and kept until that very moment. This idea that people in love have to tell each other everything and that it makes a relationship stronger makes me immensely uncomfortable, and that lesson is also in "Guiltrip."

People should be allowed their secrets, and obviously there are exceptions for things that are being hidden with malicious intent, but being essentially forced to share everything or risk not having a "full and complete" relationship is stifling and sounds like it'd only cause stress.

This episode sucks. It furthers and confirms everything I've already thought about the show, Nino's screentime continues to be dependent on Adrien, Alya, or both, there are pointless references that completely take me out of the experience, and the utter betrayal from Alya and supposed message of the episode just reminds me that Marinette is inevitably going to be stuck with a guy who didn't even DO anything in this episode and is going to let himself stew instead of asking for any sort of clarifications from someone he apparently trusts so much.

So the takeaway is that Marinette's life is awful, she'll be forced to apologize for rules that she didn't even come up with herself, her best friend will walk all over her for the sake of her relationship with a guy - not even for the sake, really, they were going to be fine, it was more for HER personal comfort if anything - and the guy who actually makes Marinette happy and could've known her identity instead BECAUSE HE AT LEAST DIDN'T HAVE A TRACK RECORD OF SPILLING HER SECRETS gets treated in the exact same way that she does; like nothing, just something to abuse unfairly.

What a waste of an episode.

[shemarmooresfedora]

Sugary Sweet Apologies

Summary: You and Reid never really got along but when he saves your life, you decide to be the bigger person and thank him and hopefully start over. Unfortunately, it isn’t that easy.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content/Warnings: light to mild angst with fluffy ending, swearing, spencer reid being an annoying bitch, brief mentions of case stuff (if you watch cm, you should be fine)

A/N: this is for @willowrose99 ‘s 1 year anniversary on tumblr writing challenge!! congrats! i literally wrote and edited this whole thing in less than one day because i got so excited, anyways i hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1.8k

“Reid and Y/L/N, go to David Whitney’s house. He was the therapist of two of the three victims. He could have some insight into the victimology and know of any overlap between them. He has no criminal record of past aggressive behavior but we can’t rule him out as a suspect entirely,” Hotch stated.

“Hotch, you stuck me with her yesterday for the geographical profiling. Send Prentiss with her instead,” Spencer whined.

“I don’t mind going with Y/L/N. She is a great partner in the field,” Emily glared at Spencer.

“No. Reid, go with Y/L/N or be taken off this case. I’m a unit chief, not an elementary school teacher. I don’t have time for temper tantrums,” Hotch chided.

“Fine,” Spencer grumbled as you grabbed the keys to an SUV.

You don’t know what it was but ever since you started at the BAU four months ago, Spencer had never liked you which resulted in you disliking him as well. Everyone else on the team was super friendly and welcoming but Reid always was jabbing snarky remarks your way like “I don’t have time to explain it to you” or “This was in the FBI handbook. God, you need more training.”

Luckily, the others were quick to defend you. Once Garcia even heard him snip at you over the phone and as soon as you all got off the elevator after the case, Reid was being dragged by his ear into Garcia’s lair with him going “ow ow ow” behind her. So, you didn’t really pay much mind to him because you could deal with one annoying know-it-all to have such an amazing job with great coworkers minus the one.

“Look, I’m not happy about this either,” you said as you climbed into the driver’s side of the SUV, “But at least I’m not being a whiny bitch about it and being rude to the other person’s face.”

“Oh wow, I’m so sorry that I hurt your feelings,” Spencer mocked.

“Fuck you, Reid,” you shook your head.

-

David Whitney was on edge the second you arrived and showed him your badges. He was bouncing his leg up and down, he couldn’t sit still, and he kept avoiding eye contact.

He knew way too much about the other victim that wasn’t even one of his clients but you didn’t have anything solid on him. His house seemed very neat so you doubted he kept anything incriminating here. Organized offenders usually have a secondary location. So, you decided to push his buttons a little.

“I mean blitz attacks, leaving the bodies on the side of dirt roads,” you combed through the crime scene photos, “This guy was a real coward.”

Spencer picked up on what you were trying to do and his eyes widened, he was subtly shaking his head and mouthing “no”.

“Excuse me?” David asked.

“Well, I’m just saying a real man wouldn’t cower in the bushes and blindside a woman. He must not be very strong,” you stated, “He probably can’t even get it up.”

Before you even had time to react, David pulled out a switchblade knife from inside the couch cushions and put you in a chokehold, pressing the cool metal up to your throat. You closed your eyes tightly.

“David, you don’t have to do this,” Spencer stood with his gun pointed at you both.

“This bitch insulted me,” he snarled.

“She insults me too. That doesn’t make you any less of a man,” Spencer spoke carefully, “Just put the knife down and I’ll escort you out.”

David sighed, dropping the knife to the floor and releasing you.

Spencer put David in handcuffs and walked him outside as reinforcements came running in.

“Are you okay, Y/L/N?” Hotch asked.

“Yep, a little shaken up but fine. Thank you,” you stood.

“Let’s get you to the medics,” Morgan grabbed your arm to support you as you walked over to the ambulance.

Spencer never checked on you.

-

You knew your decision in the field was a little rash and you wanted to thank Spencer for essentially saving your life.

However, there was no way in hell you could verbally get out an apology while staring at his smug face, but you could bake. You settled on a note tucked inside a tupperware container of your Grandma’s special recipe of chocolate chip cookies. It was a good peace offering, maybe even a chance to start fresh.

During your lunch break, you took the tupperware from your desk drawer and approached the break room where Reid had entered about 5 minutes ago.

“I’m just saying I could not have been more clear in my message to her that it was too dangerous but of course, Y/L/N didn’t listen cause Y/L/N is going to do whatever she feels like,” Spencer stirred his coffee.

No one had noticed you standing in the doorway yet.

“Reid, you’ve got to be nicer to her. She earned her spot here just like the rest of us,” Emily defended you.

“Did she though? How much do we really know about her? She couldn’t even tell me how many pages the FBI protocol manual was,” Spencer said.

“That’s not a normal thing people know,” Morgan retorted.

“Well, I’m just saying the team was perfectly fine before her and it would probably be better off if she left,” Reid finished.

Garcia looked up from her yogurt to see you standing there, “Oh, Y/N”.

Spencer turned around in his chair as you angrily stormed up to him.

“Here’s your cookies, asshole,” you seethed, grabbing the note from inside and crumpling it up into a little ball and tossing it into the trash.

“Y/N!” Emily called after you but you were already gone.

The whole team glared at Spencer and picked up their lunches, leaving him alone at the table.

Spencer retrieved the balled up paper from the trash, having to fish through Rossi’s week old pasta and Anderson’s half eaten tuna fish sandwich.

Dear Reid,

Thank you for saving my life, I guess. These are my Grandma’s secret recipe for chocolate chip cookies so I hope you enjoy. I think we got off on the wrong foot and I would like to start over. I think cases would be a lot less miserable for everyone if we got along.

Thanks again,

Y/L/N

Spencer, you’re such an idiot, he thought to himself.

You never came back after your lunch break ended and Derek made Spencer go tell Hotch why it’s his fault you were missing the rest of the day.

He tried to call you multiple times but they always rang out before going to voicemail.

Spencer hesitantly knocked on Penelope’s door at the end of the day.

“Is she okay?” he asked softly.

“You don’t get to ask that as the person who hurt her in the first place. Also, she told me to tell you that don’t you dare go to her apartment to ‘check on her’. I’m headed over there myself actually,” Penelope collected her things and shut off her monitors.

“Will you at least tell her I’m really sorry?” Spencer followed her to the elevator.

“Absolutely not. I’m not doing any apologizing on your behalf,” Penelope huffed as the elevators shut.

-

You came in the next morning, keeping your head down. You grabbed a pen from your cup holder and the first folder on your stack before getting to work.

You were on the second page of the file when your clean, empty tupperware was placed in front of you plus another baking dish with aluminum foil over the top.

You glanced up to see Spencer guiltily looking down at you and you returned your eyes back to the file.

“I-I made you cinnamon rolls,” Spencer broke the silence.

“Are they poisoned?” you asked, not sparing him another glance.

“No, they’re not poisoned,” he assured you.

“I’m just saying how can I trust you as you have made it very apparent you would like me off this team.”

“I didn’t mean that,” Spencer was quick to reply.

“Then why the hell did you say it, Reid?” you slammed your pen down.

You grabbed your empty coffee mug and briskly walked to the break room but unfortunately, Spencer was right behind you.

“I didn’t eat any of your cookies by the way. Not that I didn’t want to but I felt like I didn’t deserve them so I handed them out to everyone else.”

“Oh how kind, taking credit for my work,” you tried to close the door in his face.

“I told them that they were from you,” Spencer insisted.

You rolled your eyes as Spencer grabbed the coffee pot before you could get to it, pouring your mug of coffee for you.

“What do you want from me, Reid?” you asked defeatedly.

“I want you to try a cinnamon roll and let me explain.”

“Fine but only because I didn’t have breakfast yet and I want to critique your baking skills,” you huffed, walking back to your desk.

Spencer gingerly placed one of the sticky frosting-coated rolls on a napkin and pushed it towards you. You tentatively bit into it. Damn it, it was actually delicious.

“It’s okay,” you understated.

You knew Spencer hardly ever used his kitchen let alone be up baking all night. He even chose a recipe that required more time and effort because the yeast dough would have to rise for a few hours.

“That’s good. The first batch didn’t come out as great...or the second,” he smiled softly.

“Well, the floor is all yours, Reid. Please explain to me why you talk shit about me to my co-workers when I’m in the other room,” you leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms.

Spencer muttered something incoherent.

“I have to hear the apology, you know,” you said, enjoying watching him uncomfortable.

“You’re intimidating to me because you’re intelligent, beautiful, and courageous. I think I was a little jealous that my spotlight as the ‘kid’ of the BAU was coming to an end so I said some harsh, completely untrue things and I’m sincerely sorry.”

“Oh my god,” you smirked, “Hotch was right, you are an elementary school kid.”

“In what way?” he curiously asked.

“You like me like like like me. You don’t know how to talk to the girl so you pull her pigtails on the playground,” you giggled.

“I take it back. You’re a horrible profiler,” Spencer was getting up from his seat, completely flustered.

“Awww,” you were laughing at Spencer’s bright red face as he went to go to the break room to fill his coffee mug.

When he got back to his desk, a sticky note was placed front and center.

In typical elementary school fashion…

Will you go get coffee with me?

Check:

Yes

or

No

Spencer smiled before picking up his pen and checking one of the boxes, crumpling the sticky note up into a ball and throwing it over to your desk.

“Good choice. See you Saturday at 9 at the cafe down the street,” you grinned.

“It’s a date,” he smiled.

[chxwrites]

Fool in love Pt.2

Carlos Madrigal x She/them Reader with a gift

Genre: angst/fluff? it’s mostly carlos this chapter

warnings: none

Pt1 masterlist

tagging: @dai-tsukki-desu @m1ntyspiiees @elegantkidfansoul @yoursimpingfan @goddesslilithmoriarty @camilos-mivida @queen-of-embracing-uncertainty (Ik you didn’t ask but since you wanted a pt 2 i thought it’d be nice to tag you for it..? Sorry if you don’t wanna be tagged)

Slow update, it’s been.. roughly half a month? I’m busy with school sorry.

The next day, he went back to his usual — avoiding all tasks and maybe steal something from the bakery that’s by chance near your house even though he could’ve just asked Tia Julieta for arepas or any type of bread he wanted.

He stayed hidden in the alley, slicing his bread in half with his pocket knife to save for later. He glanced at you not so subtly as he enjoyed his breakfast.

“Are you going to keep staring like a creep or?”

He heard your unmistakable voice and looked around, trying to see who you were talking to.

“I’m talking to you, señor with the hair covering an eye while eating bread”

He gulped down his mouthful of bread, thinking if he should make a run for it. But he’s no coward so he stepped out into the light, shrugging like this was his plan all along.

“Whats a Madrigal doing here, casually watching a local anyways” You tossed the blob of an apple core you liquified up and down your hand. “don’t try to deny it, i’ve seen you there for days”

He grinned a mirthless grin, “Bold of you to assume i’m watching you, señorita.” He walked closer. You took note of how tall he is as he towered over you.

You scoffed, “whatever, see you around stalker” You turned to go back into your house, not bothering anymore since he’s not gonna answer your question.

Eventually he’ll get bored of whatever interested him and leave. right?

Wrong. He came back day after day, just standing there eerily in the shadows of the alley. Sometimes with a fruit in hand or a new trinket he snatched. You’ve learnt that his name was Carlos, the trouble maker of the Madrigals. A sort of outcast, black sheep of the family.

You noticed the townspeople didn’t really like him either (more like they completely avoided him as much as possible) and it wasn’t surprising if he thought you would’ve backed off or at least be put off by it like other people did. But you didn’t, instead you just.. sort of coexisted in silent in some sort of truce.

He would stay near you, minding his own business while you worked on chores or just watching the clouds float by.

He enjoyed the peace while you enjoyed the quiet company.

—

You were laying in your usual shaded spot, enjoying the cool summer breeze while you chewed on a popsicle stick mindlessly. Until some guy decided to get real close to you while sitting, completely uncaring you’re there.

“Has anyone told you about personal space..? Because clearly you don’t know about it.” you scoffed as you sat up, now standing in front of the guy who decided to invade your space.

It was Carlos Madrigal, who’s name you had learnt. But he was.. different today. You squinted your eyes, confused. He didn’t look different. Actually he did, his expression was.. odd. not one usually seen on the scowling, pissed-off-at-everyone boy. The beauty mark was also gone. you noted.

“Uh. Are you okay.?”

“Totally, why would you assume i’m not?” He snapped back at you, but it was.. weak compared to his usual snide comments. It also had weird ups and downs in accent that he didn’t do. And was that a voice crack.?

You reached forward, pinching Carlos real hard and you watch as his image shifted and changed, turning into Camilo. You rolled your eyes, as if one madrigal wasnt enough, now there’s two.

You caught him by the back of his collar as he turned to flee, “hold it, why’re you impersonating your twin to see me”

He turned around, eyes darting everywhere.

“Look i mean no harm, i was just interested in why my brother was always out here and found out he was with you. Are you guys dating?”

You let go of his collar, “Dating him?” You snickered, “Of course not.” You quickly dissipate the thought of dating him that flashed through your head. Dating him? He was just.. nice company. Yeah. Besides you weren’t that close, he just stayed near and had short conversations with you. sometimes joining you as you laid near the riverbank or watched the stars on your roof.

Camilo seemed to be thinking, hand scratching his head absent-mindedly.

“That’s weird. Carlos doesn’t really enjoy company. I was surprised he was hanging around you so much. What’s your name anyways” He stretched his hand out, wanting to shake yours.

“Y/n, You’re done with this whole investigator thing right? I’ll go back to my nap” You shook his hand briefly so he doesn’t have his hand out awkwardly and tossed the popsicle stick that’s been in your mouth for a while into the bin next to you.

He waved, setting off with mischief in his mind as he thought of the ways he’ll tick his brother off.

He hurried home, greeting casita and passed by Mirabel who was fixing up his other torn ruana. He found Carlos leaning against the balcony and smirked, walking up to him.

“So… what’s up hermano” Carlos ignored Camilo’s question, rolling his eyes as he’s close to walking away.

“What.” He snapped, eyes narrowed and lips a thin line, annoyed his peace was disturbed. Camilo never went to him during the day unless to tell him about news.

“So hostile towards tu hermano” Camilo shook his head “Not to disturb your creepy stalker thing but Mama told me to tell you y/n’s coming over for dinner tonight.” Camilo grinned seeing Carlos’ expression change, his eyes widening.

“What’s wrong hermano?” He prodded him further, testing his patience.

Carlos turned away without a response, trying to leave.

“not so fast, whats this about?” Camilo put a hand on his shoulder. He grits his teeth and swats his hand off.

“Let go already, it doesn’t concern you.”

“You’re so obvious. It’s clear that you-“ Carlos slaps his hand over Camilo’s mouth, irritated.

“Cállate.”

“That was a joke Carlos, shes not coming over to dinner. I talked with her just now. She has a gift too, i think it’s manipulating liquids and turning things into liquid state.”

Carlos nodded, attention drifting from his brother’s words to something else, until his brother’s voice became background noise again.

“Carlos!” He snapped back to attention, closing his eyes in annoyance.

“make it short i’m tired of your ramblings”

“Do you like her.”

He turned around, unsure as well. “I don’t know” He muttered.

“Just say you do” He could already imagine the stupid smug grin Camilo was wearing. “Just cállate before Dolores-“

A small squeak could be heard behind them. Carlos facepalmed, of course she heard.

“What’s this about Carlos liking someone? Mi hermanito tolerating someone?”

Carlos had enough of this and pushed past her. “you’ve heard everything already, don’t tell anyone, got it?” He glared at her but Dolores was already turning to leave, trying not to spill the newest news she got.

“She’s gonna tell everyone. starting from mirabel and then mama” Camilo stated.

“No shit.”

“Maybe you could try confessing..?”

“We’re not.. close. At all. And what would she see in me anyways” The insecurities rose and tangled his insides into knots. Bile rose and he gulped, pushing the thoughts down.

Camilo sighed, shaking his head. There was no convincing Carlos once he set his mind to something. “I’ll leave you to your thoughts then. Hasta luego hermano.”

That night, carlos’ thoughts ran wild as the night got darker.

What if you thought the same as he did?

Unsure of your feelings as well? He knew you were sort of an outcast as well. On the surface you got along well but you didn’t have anyone close. But you had him around everyday.

Maybe his brother is right for once. He had fallen for you and he can’t seem to get enough of you — The one thing that seems nice in this town besides his family.

[mrs-gucci]

Mr. Handsy {Clyde Logan x wife!Reader}

@icarusinthesea :

Okay, okay. I think I've thought of something. Eh, it's a mediocre idea, but it does it for me. Fighting with Clyde followed by sweet, hot, nasty make up sex. I can not think of anything else. But whatever you write I'll love. 🥰

author’s notes: hello, hello! writers block has been hitting HARDCORE as of late, which is kind of a bummer, but luckily I’m feeling a bit better now! @icarusinthesea​ thank you for this request!! I hope it was worth the (very long) wait, and I send love to you, friend <3 <3

warnings: fluff. smut. club brawls. violence against an asshole. protectiveness. dom!Clyde. oral sex (m receiving). rough sex. unprotected sex/creampie.

(possible) tw’s: non-con touching (not by Clyde). physical conflict. sex in a public restroom.

word count: 1.9k

my general taglist peeps! @safarigirlsp @babbushka @mrs-zimmerman @dirtytissuebox @thepalaceofmelanie @einmal-im-traum @charliesahottie​ @gotham-city-uber-driver​ @gildedstarlight​ @slytheriin2002 clyde’s taglist peeps! @goddessofsprings​ @icarusinthesea​ @lumdelacour​ @readingreaver​ @eagerforhoney​ @trubluepensfan​ @beachwoodmonet​ if you’d like to be added to any of my taglists, the sign up is linked here and can also be found in my description :)

You had a bad feeling about this place from the very beginning, from the moment you stepped into this stupid sleazy club for your co-worker’s birthday.

Clyde decided to tag along, mainly to hang out with the other poor guys whose wives dragged them along tonight.

The bass pulses your eardrums as you make your way over to the booth that they’d claimed, saying some very loud ‘hi’s’ and ‘hello’s’ to everyone before taking a seat on Clyde’s lap.

Your outfit certainly matches the locale of tonight’s party, sexy and risqué while maintaining at least some coverage and dignity for your larger areas. Clyde’s been having some trouble keeping his eyes, and now that he can, his hands, off you.

His calloused flesh hand runs over your thigh and hip in a soothing manner, mindless in its movements over your exposed skin.

Soon, a good dancing song comes on and no matter how much you try to beg Clyde to join you on the crowded floor, he refuses, insisting that you go have some fun with your friends.

His eyes keep a close watch on you, knowing that unfortunately, it’s highly likely that some bonehead Joe will come along and think he can touch without permission.

He finds himself in a sort of entranced state, watching the way your hips move when you dance, watches your skin bounce and jiggle with each motion, sees the way the multicolored lights bounce off the sequins on your dress…

Sure enough, said bonehead Joe dances his way over to you, not-so-subtly checking you out from a bit of a distance before making his approach.

Clyde almost instantly leaps into action when his hand touches your hip and he slides in behind you. Thinking that the man behind you is Clyde, you start grinding against him a bit more, smirking.

But, only after a second or two, his motions and touch begin to feel awfully foreign. You’ve just truly begun to doubt your dancing partner’s identity when he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“Keep dancing like this and I’ll just have to take you home, babygirl.”

Goosebumps form on your skin in disgust the moment you hear an unfamiliar voice, yanking away from his grubby grip.

“How dar—“

“Hey, you!”

Your eyes widen and you look around the man to see a very angry-looking Clyde storming his way over to where you’re standing.

He turns the handsy man around with a hand on his shoulder, then gives him a shove. “Can’t ya see she’s married, asshole? Don’t you ever think ya can just go ‘round here, touchin’ what ain’t yours.”

“Cly—“

“Don’t ya even start with me right now, Y/N. I can’t believe ya didn’t stop ‘im, can’t believe ye kept grindin’ against ‘im.”

Your eyes widen. “Clyde, p-please, it’s not like tha—“

“I thought I told ya t’ can it, Y/N.”

You shudder at his commanding and harsh tone, immediately backing down and biting your lip as the tears swell in your eyes.

The man wears a small smirk, giving Clyde an equally rough shove backwards. “And what, you’re telling me she’s yours? Bullshit she is. Who’d ever wanna marry a one-armed redneck like you?”

Big mistake. Clyde used to just stand down and shut off whenever someone made fun of his disability, but usually now, he just gets fucking pissed.

Sure enough, his jaw clenches and he quickly lunges at Mr. Handsy, forcefully knocking him to the scuffed dance floor. Often times, mostly due to his kind and gentle demeanor, you forget that Clyde’s a veteran. A special ops veteran, at that.

You can’t deny that bearing witness to his unbridled anger and dominance isn’t at least a little bit sexy, even if you do feel incredibly guilty about not realizing sooner that it wasn’t Clyde.

Like the coward he truly is, and that many men like him are, he flees the scene quickly when he looks up and sees the anger in Clyde’s eyes.

Meanwhile, you instantly rush up to him, apologizing repeatedly. “Clyde, I’m so sorry, I thought it was you and I didn’t mean to—“

He snatches your wrist, bending down so that his hot, slightly strained breath wafts across your face. “You’d better yer slutty ass into the restroom right fuckin’ now.” He growls, letting you go.

You nod, whimpering under your breath as you scurry off into the bathroom.

He follows after you, pushing you into the single stall before reaching around to lock the door.

“Clyde, please, I’m so sorry. I promise that I didn’t know it wasn’t you until he spoke and I pulled away right after that. I would never…”

He holds a hand up and you trail off, then crosses it back over his chest along with the other. When you look up at him, ready to apologize further, he gives you a subtle head shake and a faint smile.

“Get m’ cock out.”

You know, then, that he’s not mad, and you know exactly what he wants from you. You step up to him with a small smirk and pop the button on his Levi’s, pulling the zipper down before reaching in to fish out his half-hard length.

“Now stroke it. You know how I like it.”

Your hand holds a steady grip around the protrusion, starting off slow but quickening randomly, just as he likes it.

His head tilts back onto the cheap tiled wall, nostrils flaring as he exhales shakily. “Thaaaaat’s m’ girl, just like that.”

You speed up just a bit, focusing your pressure and ministrations on the upper half of his shaft, moving the little bit of excess skin up and down his shiny pink head.

“Mmmmffhhh.” He groans through pursed lips, hips rutting forward into your touch.

Suddenly, he pushes your hand away, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to cope with the sudden loss of stimulation on his pulsing arousal.

“Knees.”

You get onto your knees, using his shoes as cushioning.

“Mouth open.”

Your jaw falls open and he wastes no time in moving himself into proper position, sheathing himself fully in your mouth.

“Ghhhohhh, s-shit.”

You’re choking right off the bat, shoulders shaking with each violent cough.

“Yeah, take it. Gon’ make ye choke on me, shove m’ cock down yer lil throat ‘till ya can’t breathe no more.”

You somehow manage to moan around him in between your gags and coughs, lungs panicked for the rough cutoff of airflow by Clyde’s length. Tears begin to swell in your eyes, soon running down your cheeks.

His eyebrows are tightly knitted in the center of his forehead, skin glistening with the beginnings of sweat as his hips rut into your cavern even quicker and rougher now.

Clyde has to physically pull himself away from your mouth, shuddering as his cock bobs and throbs angrily at the loss of friction. His hand splays out on the wall, chest heaving as he takes a moment to re-gain composure.

Then, he looks down at you, gaze sizzling your very skin.

“Up. Turn yerself ‘round n’ bend over, ass out n’ legs spread nicely.”

You put yourself into the position, wiggling your ass just a bit for play after pushing your jean shorts down, earning you a harsh smack across your newly-exposed skin. He smirks when you squeal softly, giving himself a few lazy strokes as he steps up behind you, lips instantly attacking your neck.

“Yer gon’ walk outta ‘ere with all o’ my marks on your neck, hickeys n’ bite marks. Maybe then everyone’ll understand who it is ya belong t’."

His chin digs into your shoulder, then he’s thrusting forward, filling you up and stretching you out to the max. You gasp, eyelids fluttering as your eyes roll into the back of your skull.

“Ohhhhh.”

He groans into your ear, chin digging into your shoulder as he begins fucking you fast and hard. There’s nothing gentle or romantic about this union; it’s hunger and wanting, it’s pure carnal lust.

Tears quickly swell up in your eyes at the sweet pleasure currently surging through your body, tickling every nerve ending and igniting every pleasure center. 

It’s humid in the club, the bathroom no exception and already, a sheen of sweat has formed on the surface of your skin. Clyde’s good hand takes an even firmer hold on the meat of your hips, hips thrusting at an impossibly fast pace.

“G’damnit, wrapped ‘round m-me so tight, fffuck Y/N. Such a lil’ cccunt, love shovin’ m’ b-big cock in ya, ssssplittin’ ya right in half--christ.”

You love how his accent gets thicker and thicker at times like this, so much so that sometimes you can’t even make sense of what he’s saying. It’s adorable.

“Mmm, C-Clyde! Please baby, please mmmake me cum!”

His lips latch onto the side of your neck, sucking as hard as they possibly can while he reaches around to rub your clit with the cool metal digits of his prosthetic. 

Your hips instantly grind down on him, a shaky gasp leaving your lips. “Ohh god, mmmmmfffuck--right there! Yes, yes, Clyde!”

“Say y-yer mine.” He growls into your ear, panting. “Tell everyone who ya bbbelong to. Scream ma name w-when ya cum.”

“Y-Yours, all yours, Clyde. I’m yours!” You whimper. 

Clyde fucks you with everything he’s got, biting into your skin and sucking more of the flesh until you’re littered with marks. It’s not long before you’re tumbling over the edge, body trembling as you release all over his shaft with a shout of his name.

“Clyde! C-Clyde, fuck!”

Not long after you, Clyde falls over the edge, desperately rutting and fucking each drop of his hot load deep into your spasming cunt.

“Y/N, g’damnit...fuuuckin’ s-shit!”

Both of you are rendered breathless as you come down from your respective highs. His lips and tongue gently soothe the harsh bites and bruises that have been left behind in his wake. 

He sighs softly when he pulls out, helping you pull your shorts back up before tucking himself back into his pants. When you turn around, he crashes his lips into yours, hands resting gently on your hips. 

“‘m real sorry fer that, Y/N; dunno what got int’ me. I didn’t hurt ya, did I?”

You smile, cradling his face in your hands. “Clyde, there is no need to apologize or feel bad for that. You know if I was uncomfortable, I would’ve stopped you or said something. I loved it, more than I probably should have, and I love you.”

His lips tug up into a soft, lopsided smile, relief flooding across his expression.

“I love ya too, Y/N, so, so much. Thank ya fer puttin’ up with me n’ bein’ mine.”

“No ‘thank you’ necessary, baby. I’m yours, always yours.”

Clyde grins, pulling you in for a hug as he repeats your words out loud.

“All mine.”

[ray-ray-writings]

i don't really know how this thought came to me but consider a reader who's a pillager hybrid of their whole family are pillagers but the reader doesn't really... agree with their lifestyle so they run away and move to the Dream SMP and no one knows they're pillager origins until their family comes looking for them?? also i've been binging ur stuff, i love ur blog, this is my first time asking :)

I really really love this idea, I’m such a sucker for things like this hahahaha.

But yeah. So you’re born and raised in a Pillager tower, your mother was a human that your father fell in love with once he saw her being cruel to villagers. Growing up you were always taken on the raids when your parents would go on and you would watch as Villagers were slaughtered left and right with no mercy. It always made you feel sick to your stomach while many others were having the time of their lives. When the raid was over and won, you would go back to the tower and people would marvel in their victories, and you would pretend you were also excited, but those nights were always plagued with nightmares of the villagers’ screams and fire that destroyed the towns. As you grew up, you were able to make your own decisions. So you went on less raids, still going on some to please your parents, but the guilt grew more and more with each town destroyed. So when you finally turned 18, you decided to leave for good. You packed up everything that you could carry in your inventory and wrote a small note to your parents explaining that you had to leave, you couldn’t raid and pillage any longer. You left the note on your mother’s nightstand, pressing a small kiss to both of their foreheads before leaving the only place you’ve ever called home. 

You wander for the whole night, the mobs leaving you alone (after all, like kind recognizes like) and then for half the day once the sun comes up before you stumble into the SMP. From far off in the distance you can see multiple beacons of light coming from inside a really really big stone building. So like a moth, you’re drawn to the light and wander inside this castle. You stumble onto a wooden plank path that seems to go everywhere are the new town you have found. As you’re walking through the castle just looking around, you aren’t paying attention and you stumble, literally stumble, into someone. You catch yourself before you fall and you look to who you just ran into. You see a man with a green hoodie, a white smiley face mask with blonde tufts of hair poking out of the top. “Woah there… Who are you, I’ve never seen you before” he questions, his tone kind of harsh. You don’t blame him though, a complete stranger wandering into this new place uninvited, you’re honestly surprised you didn’t get an axe to the head. “Hi. Sorry, I’m Y/N. I’ve just… I’ve just left home and I saw this place. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude. I’ll leave now!” You rush out, attempting to turn around and run out of the castle, but a hand catches your wrist. “Hey wait a minute,” he commands softly, turning you back around. “It’s okay. You’re okay. I was just surprised… You said you just left home?” You give the man a shy nod, “Yeah, my people were… doing some things I didn’t approve of and so I left as soon as I was able to… I can leave now if you want” The man doesn’t let go of your wrist, “You said you just left home?” You nod in confirmation, “Well, if you want, you could live here. Well not here in the castle, but here in the SMP. I’m Dream and this is my SMP. There are a lot of people here that are actually very nice. You can build your house in the SMP and live here. But if you want to keep wandering, that’s okay too” the man called Dream offers. You think about it for a moment, “Do you think you could show me around before I make my decision?” Dream gives you a quick nod before letting go of your wrist, “Of course. Do you want to go now?” “Sure!” So Dream shows you around the SMP and introduces you to a few new people who all give you waves and friendly smiles and welcome you to the new land. All throughout the tour, Dream subtly asks you about where you're from, but you brush off his questions and for once in his life he doesn’t push it. “So what do you think? You want to stay here?” You give a quick look around and think about everyone you met, “Yeah, I would thank you!” 

And so you stay. You build your house, something with light wood that doesn’t resemble a tower at all. You also make friends with everyone else on the SMP. Somehow you reveal that you’re really good at combat with an axe and a crossbow, probably while sparring with someone, maybe Tommy because we all know he would definitely challenge a new person to duel him and then call you a coward so you would duel him and win and claim you cheated, but it makes everyone stare at you in wonder for a little bit and become just a little more afraid of you. You never tell anyone where you’re from or that you’re part pillager and that your family is made up of pillagers. You don’t think it’s important. That’s in your past and the SMP is your family now so now your family is made up of even more hybrids and more diverse people. Your past remains in your past… Until it comes knocking at your front door… 

You wake one morning to a pounding on your front door. You of course are very confused because you weren’t expecting anyone. But you get out of bed and answer the door and you find  a panicked Tommy and Tubbo standing there. “Boys, what can I-” “There are a bunch of pillagers here. They’re asking about you. They’re threatening to burn everything down if we don’t bring you.” Tubbo rambles. “We won’t let them take you and we were told to keep you here, but we just thought we should let you know.” Tommy chimes in. Your blood runs cold. Why? Why is this happening? You don’t answer the boys and you ignore their ‘keep you here bs’ before you reach over and grab your axe and crossbow and run out of the house. Tubbo and Tommy yell after you, share a look before, and run after you. You run up and find a few people, Dream, Techno, Wilbur, Philza, Sapnap, Punz, (Ya know, the best fighters… foreshadowing lol) and standing opposite of them your parents with a few other pillagers behind them. The sound of your footsteps caused all heads to snap to you. Everyone from the SMP seemed shocked to see you and stared past you and glared at the two boys. “You were supposed to keep them home” Dream hisses to the children. “They took off before we could stop them” Tubbo pants, trying to catch his breath. “Y/N go home” Techno demands, but you don’t listen. All of your attention is focused on those you used to call your family. “What are you doing?” You ask exasperated. Your father smirks at you, “Oh my dear child we’re here to bring you home of course.” And you can feel all eyes snap to you. A wave of disappointment flooded you, they all knew now. “They know” you’d think to yourself, “They know what a horrible person you are and what terrible past you come from.” You take a deep breath before speaking again, “I’m not coming home. This is my home now. Go away, leave us alone.” Laughter bubbles from the group in front of you, “Oh silly silly child. You are not home, home is back at the tower. Come now.” Your mother says, beckoning you forward. “No. I’m not going.” The smirks and smiles turn into angry stares, “No? Oh, I see how it is” your mother speaks up. “Too bad you are coming with us.” Your father barks before lunging forward for you and attempts to grab you. Before you can even react, you’re being pulled back and you’re now being protected. The two most powerful people on the server, Dream and Techno, have formed a wall in front of you with their weapons pointed at the pillagars. “Now,” Techno begins, his monotone voice two octaves deeper and threatening, “We can do this the easy way or the hard way.” Your father lunges forward once more, throwing his fist out, trying to punch Techno in the face. Techno simply caught your father’s wrist and smirked, “Alright, hard way it is” 

A full on brawl begins. 

Techno quickly takes your father while Dream takes your mother. Everyone else charges and begins fighting the rest of them. Fists are flying before arrows join the ranks in that as well. You begin fighting someone you barely recognize. Your whole energy and focus is on winning because you know if you lose it’s back to raiding and pillaging villages and you really don’t want to. You manage to down the person you’re fighting and you turn and see that all the other pillagers are either also downed or being fought by one of your friends. Your eyes catch Techno and Dream who were still fighting your father and mother respectively. You’re just about to approach when Techno gets your father in a chokehold and manages to completely debilitate him. “Call them off” Techno demands. Your father doesn’t say anything at first, his fingers desperately clawing at the arm around his throat. Techno squeezes tighter, “Did I hesitate? I said call them off” Finally your father comes to his senses, “Retreat!” He gasps out. Immediately all of the pillagers stop their fight and run back to where they were first gathered up. Techno lets go of your father and gives him a hard shove in the direction. Your father moves to stand next to your mother and all eyes fall on you again. “Leave. And never come back, or I won’t hesitate to let them kill you” your speak, your voice stone cold. You can tell your mother wants to protest, but your father catches her wrist and shakes his head no. Without another word, your father turns around and walks through the crowd and toward the direction of their tower. Confused and a little irritated all other pillagers turn too and follow your father back to where they came from. 

You and the rest stand there and watch them retreat until they are out of sight. And once again all eyes fall on you. You can’t help but look to the ground as tears form in your eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know they would come for me… I understand if you want me to leave forever… Now that you know what I truly am… A monster” you spit out the words as if their poison. It is quiet for a moment and you figure that they’re all silently agreeing. You’re about to speak again when a pair of arms wrap tightly around you, and then another, and another, and another, until you’re pretty sure everyone there, even Techno, is in the group hug. The tears that had welled up in your eyes were now freely falling down your cheeks. “Y/N,” Dream begins, “We never want you to leave. Why would you think that?” A pathetic sob escapes your lips, “Because I’m part pillager because I raided and destroyed villages. I’m a monster, Dream. I don’t deserve you guys.” Everyone seems about to jump in, but through blurry eyes you see Philza give them all a look. All of the arms let you go, except for one pair that holds you even tighter, “Y/N, you’re not a monster. What you did today and what you have done in the past proves it. Today you refused to go with them, you ran away from them, you didn’t want to be a part of their lifestyle. You’re not a monster hun, you never were and you never will be” Philza comforts. His words hit your heart. You’re not a monster, no one thinks you’re a monster. More sobs escape your lips, this time they’re sobs of relief. They don’t want you to leave. You’re safe here. Philza lets you cry in his arms, he holds you for as long as you need. After a few moments you compose yourself and slowly pull out of the blonde man’s arms. “Sorry about that” you apologize, clearing your throat. “Didn’t mean to lose my cool there” Everyone around you laughs. “It’s okay Y/N. You’ve just had a big emotional thing happen, and you were pulled right of bed to experience it. It’s okay that you’re a little emotional.” Wilbur comforts, taking a step forward and resting a warm hand on your back. You completely pull away from Phil and give the tall boy a quick hug. “Hey are we doing individual hugs, because I want a hug too!” Sapnap chimes, marching forward and flinging his arms open. You can’t help but giggle and pull away from Wilbur, “We can do individual hugs if you want too” You claim, falling into his open arms. He lets out a triumphant lap and swings you around in joy. “Alright hog, let them go we want hugs too” Sapnap, still holding on to you, looks over his shoulder before picking you up and running away with you. “Hey selfish! Get back here!” And soon everyone is chasing you and Sapnap around demanding hugs. This wasn’t how you planned to tell everyone about your past, you’re not sure if you ever were going to, but you wouldn’t change it for the world.

[honeyapplepi]

The Fall of L’Manberg

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of violence, mentions of death

Dream SMP realistic au

a/n: i got this idea after watching the recent plot streams so spoiler warning. Also the first time i wrote this and actually liked how it turned out it got deleted so if that happens again i’m going to cry. This is just part one so don’t worry that nothing really significant happened this chapter.

italics = flashbacks

(PLATONIC) Dream SMP x gn!reader

masterlist | part two | part three

“Schlatt! Schlatt!,” you called out through the halls. You had been looking for him for the past fifteen minutes. You were currently livid since he made Manberg surrender. As you yelled for him you were practicing in your head how many different ways you could call him a coward.

“Schlatt!,” you yelled. Entering a room you looked around your eyes stopping seeing a body lying on the floor.

“Shit,” you muttered crouching down to check for any sign of breathing or a heartbeat. “Damn it! Schlatt, you have got to be kidding me,” you muttered angrily standing up from his body.

“You’re next,” you heard a voice say from behind you. Drawing your sword you turned around to face the man who stood in the doorway.

“Technoblade. Who told you to do this? Wilbur? Tommy? Maybe Tubbo? I thought anarchists didn’t listen when someone tells them to do something,” you said looking at him with no fear in your eyes.

“I don’t, but since you’re a government official we’re kinda enemies, which means me and the people of L’Manberg have a common interest,” Technoblade said. You subtly prepared your sword.

“You seemed not to mind my governmental status a few days ago. Especially when I ordered you to execute Tubbo,” you said to him.

“Schlatt was the one who made those orders,” Technoblade said.

“Oh, yeah? And who do you think told Schlatt Tubbo was a spy and convinced him to have Tubbo executed,” you told him. Taking the chance you struck your sword towards Technoblade. Unfortunately, he managed to block you with his sword.

After taking back your sword, you struck again this time towards Technoblade’s stomach. Technoblade quickly dodged and struck his sword towards you. You blocked it quickly with your sword. Technoblade then used his sword to knock yours out of your grip and across the room.

Not letting Technoblade think he had you scared you kept your face stoic. Looking around the room you spotted an ender chest. Quickly running to it while Technoblade slowly began after you. You grabbed your bow and arrows and quickly shot one towards Technoblade hitting him in the shoulder.

While you had Technoblade stopped you slung the bag of arrows over your back and ran towards the window. Opening it you quickly jumped off the second floor and onto the grass. Looking back you watched as Technoblade followed after you.

Walking backwards you shot arrows towards Technoblade which he would block with his swords. Grabbing a special arrow at your bag you shot it towards the ground in front of Technoblade.

“You missed,” Technoblade commented.

“No I didn’t,” you said running back quickly watching the arrow expload knocking Technoblade back. Grabbing your bow you walked towards Technoblade and hovered over him while aiming and arrow at him. As you were about to shoot he kicked you back causing you to let go of the arrow. The arrow ran past Technoblad’s ear grazing past the top of it.

Quickly standing back up you were met by Technoblade’s sword at your throat. The tip of the sword drew a drip or two of blood which caused no damage to your state or fighting skill. leaning back your hand you kicked Technoblade’s sword out of his hand and grabbed and arrow.

Shooting the arrow to ground you grabbed an ender pearl out your bag and shot it into the air. Just as the arrow exploded you teleported landing on a hill a little but always from where you threw the pearl.

It had been months since your fight with Technoblade and your almost execution. Since then you had moved into a small village on the side of a mountain in a spruce forest. Despite time moving on you still held a grudge against the people who tried to have you executed and the ones who betrayed you.

You had found your current village a few days after your flee from L’Manberg. It was a decent amount away so the likely hood of someone finding you was low, but of course not zero. Walking back into your village after going on a mining trip you noticed the lights were illuminating your home. It was currently night time all the lights were out and the villagers were sleeping.

You had made sure to turn of the lights when leaving, right?. Nevertheless, you grabbed your bow and readied an arrow. You slowly walked towards the end of the village’s path that led to your home. Looking through the window you noticed two men standing i your kitchen. One blond in a mask and a pink haired one in a crown.

Opening your door you shot the arrow towards the wall in-between the two catching their attention. “What the hell do you two want?,” you said.

“Just lower your bow. We’re not here to hurt you,” Technoblade said, but you stayed in position ready to send an arrow flying towards their heads.

“Surprising as the last time I saw you, you tried to kill me,” you responded to Technoblade.

“They have a fair point,” Technoblade said looking towards the blond. Dream pushed his mask above his face and looked towards you.

“Come on, Y/N, we swear we’re not here to hurt or kill you. We need your help,” Dream said. You looked at him for a moment before speaking.

“Hand me your weapons,” you commanded lowering your bow only slightly so you would still be able to shoot if needed.

“What? No!,” Technoblade protested causing Dream to looked towards him.

“Just do it, Techno,” Dream said handing you his axe. Technoblade muttered complaints as he handed you his pickaxe.

“hmm, I feel powerful,” you commented holding the two weapons in your hands while the other boys had nothing. “Sit,” you told them pointing to your table.

The two boys sat at your round table both of them on one side while you sat across from them. You held Techno’s pickaxe in your head lightly swinging it in the air. You looked towards Techno, more specifically his ear, and saw a tiny scar from the rip in his ear you had caused months prior.

“So, you need my help?,” you said looking towards the two.

“Well, actually Dream was the one who suggested you. I think we’d be fine without you,” Technoblade commented. You frowned at him lightly hooking the pickaxe around his neck and tugging lightly.

“Watch your mouth,” you warned him before looking towards Dream so he could explain.

“Tommorrow at 3 we planned to destroy L’Manberg, and as a person who was wronged by them I figured you might want in,” Dream explained. You took a short moment to think.

“What’s your plan? Go into L’Manberg with just us three? We’ll die,” You said unhooking Technoblade’s pickaxe from his neck.

“Well, Phil will be there,” Technoblade commented.

“Then sorry, the four of us. Update, we’ll still die,” you told the two. You felt very pessimistic about this idea. You didn’t want to go back talking up a big game just to die within minutes.

“Actually I have a plan. You, Techno, and Phil will distract everyone while I rig explosives. All you have to do is survive and then boom goes L’Manberg,” Dream told you.

“Surviving sounds a lot easier than it truly is,” you said.

“But, I guess i’m in, but if I die i’m haunting you,” You said looking towards Dream sternly.

The three of you spent the next hour going over the plan and where you were going to meet tomorrow. In only a couple hours it would be sunrise then a few hours after that it was war time.

“Well, boys. Now that we’ve discussed this get out of my village,” You said handing the two their weapons and pushing them out your door. You watched and made sure they left without causing any problems. Once you were certain they were gone you started to prepare for the fall of L’Manberg.

[qitwrites]

⬅ Previous || 29 || Next ➡

The thing that doesn’t make sense is the onigiri.

The Bakusquad are currently sprawled all over the common room couches, taking turns playing on the PS5. This is a normal sight, one that Ojiro has walked in on several times. There’s yelling, screaming, fingers poking ribs, and Bakugou kicking anyone that dares to touch his hair. The whole group is in a mad tangle of limbs, the audience yelling profanities while the people with the controllers (in this case, Sero and Kirishima) have a look of sheer determination painted on their faces as they race each other in an all too intense game of Mario kart.

And, in the midst of all this chaos, is a large plate filled to the brim with onigiri- perfectly shaped, delicious looking balls of rice wrapped in shiny seaweed.

When Kirishima loses to Sero a few moments later, the tape hero whoops victoriously as the redhead visibly deflates, groaning loudly and seemingly melting into the floor. Bakugou laughs out loud at the sight and pulls the plate right up to Kirishima’s face and says, “Take your pick, Red.” He sounds gleeful, and it makes a shiver run down the length of Ojiro’s spine.

Kaminari finally catches sight of him and waves him over, “Oji! Get over here man.”

Ojiro makes his way to the couch and sits at the very edge, watching as Kirishima sighs deeply and pulls out an onigiri at random. For someone that loves food, and especially rice, with a fierce sort of vengeance, Kirishima looks deathly pale and completely unwilling to eat. Ojiro waves at Kaminari to get his attention before pointing at Kirishima and going, “What is happening?”

“Just wait,” the electric blonde smirks, his eyes dancing with delight.

Ojiro watches the redhead inhale one last time before taking a large bite. He chews the onigiri for a moment before his face contorts in absolute horror and he yanks what can only be described as a spit bucket from the other side of the couch to his face, coughing the rice out violently.

“Oh fuck,” Bakugou gasps out in between peals of laughter, “he got the mayo banana. Fuck me, he got the worst fucking one.”

Kirishima’s gargling some water while the words Mayo-banana swirl around Ojiro’s head. Kaminari takes one look at him and giggles.

“We’re playing onigiri roulette,” Sero finally explains. 

He points at the plate of food. “Before we started, we filled a bunch of rice balls with the weirdest fillings we could think of. The only rule is that it has to be edible-“ “BARELY edible” “- yeah, well, if you need recovery girl at the end of this, you’ve probably gone too far. So, we play each other one-on-one, and the winner plays the next person while the loser eats an onigiri and sits out till everyone else has had a go.”

“So,” Ojiro says, his mind still stuck on what he just heard Bakugou say, “Kiri just ate a rice ball filled with mayonnaise and banana?”

Ashido giggles at that, and Kaminari turns to the redhead and asks, “How was it?”

Kirishima takes another generous sip of water before saying, “The texture is what screwed me. It was just, god, it was mush and then more mush, and so slimy, and then the rice-“

“Ok,” Kaminari squeaks, throwing his hands up in surrender, “That’s enough, thanks man!”

“You wanna join?” Ashido beams at Ojiro, offering him her controller.

“I’m good watching,” Ojiro says, scooting back subtly. Sero sniggers and makes room for Ashido to join him on the floor.

“You’re going down,” he taunts, and Ashido burns a small hole in the sleeve of his shirt before they start up the next game.

Pinky puts up a good fight, but Sero is a master at the game, and even with her well-timed kicks at his face, Ashido loses, and Bakugou is positively glowing.

Ashido picks another unassuming looking onigiri and takes a bite. She looks so confused for a moment before her face scrunches up in agony. She perseveres though, and even as Kaminari cries from how hard he’s laughing and Sero is recording the whole thing with shaky hands, Ashido flips them the bird and makes it a point to swallow thickly.

Kirishima leans in and takes a sniff, his own nose wrinkling as he asks, “Toothpaste?”

Bakugou laughs again, an ugly, grating sound that’s so unlike the boyish smile on his face. Ashido sticks her tongue out at the rest and says, “I happen to love mint, so joke’s on you.” She still slam dunks the rest of the onigiri in the spit bucket.

The next to go against Sero is Bakugou, who sits beside him heavily and snatches the offered controller. Gone is his carefree smile and ugly laugh, and in its place is his usual fierce competitiveness, except the stakes are so much higher than they’ve ever been in hero training.

The game is nail biting, to say the least. Bakugou doesn’t yell while he’s playing, and his concentration is so intense, it almost seems like he’s being sucked into the game. Even Ojiro finds himself cheering and yelling as the two desperately try to beat each other while trying to stay on the track in the first place.

When Sero wins by a margin that’s thinner than a strand of hair, Kirishima, in what can only be described as a move perfected after many recurring experiences, grabs the controller from Bakugou and hardens himself against the tiny explosions in the blonde’s palms, saving the controller. Bakugou lunges at Sero, a litany of curses tearing themselves out his throat. Sero has the biggest shit eating grin on his face, and Kirishima can barely hold Bakugou back as he shakes with laughter of his own. The blonde ends up with his back to Kirishima’s chest as he huffs something about assholes that cheat and the redhead gives him a pat on the shoulder before picking up the plate and offering it to Bakugou.

The blonde makes it a point to inspect each rice ball carefully before picking one up and giving it a sniff. He wrinkles his nose and finally takes a big bite, because he might be a sore loser but Bakugou is no coward.

He chews through his bite quietly and swallows, expressionless. And then he smiles, a wicked, horrible turn of his lips.

“Ha, assholes, I fucking win.” He turns the bitten side of the rice ball to face the group, and out pours a stream of red liquid.

Hot sauce, Ojiro notes just as the spice hits him in the eyes with enough force to warrant immediate tears.

“Shit, that’s actually hurting me,” Kaminari yelps, blinking rapidly.

“Yeah man, what the hell?” Sero says, sitting back on his elbows to get away from it. They all watch in horror as Bakugou takes another bite and smirks. Ojiro can see the sweat dotting his brow and they don’t miss how he rubs his nose with his clean hand, but all in all, hot sauce for Bakugou feels unfair, especially after the diabolical mayo and banana monstrosity.

“Man, how does he win even when he loses?” Kirishima whines, butting Bakugou’s shoulder with his head. The blonde sniggers again and sits back comfortably just as Kirishima tosses the controller to Kaminari.

Ojiro watches them takes turns and suffer. Kaminari, by some turn of fate, beats Sero in a game that just refuses to go in Sero’s favor. Sero ends up choking down a rice ball stuffed with a slimy squid and peanut butter mixture.

When Kaminari loses to Ashido, he happily eats a rice ball soaked in malic acid because his taste buds are immune to sour apparently. Ashido nearly throws up when she has to bite into a rice ball filled with jello and meat chunks after losing to Bakugou, and Bakugou turns an alarming shade of green when he eats one with durian and mustard. Kirishima had watched that one unfold in a mix of horror and fascination, torn between laughing and holding the spit bucket out for the blonde.

Midway through, Ojiro finds himself playing with them and he has to experience the hell that is jelly beans with cheese sauce and another onigiri that is filled with nothing but wasabi. So much wasabi that he feels fumes of heat trying to escape his nose as his eyes water for the rest of the evening.

When they finally call it a day, Ojiro somehow finds himself promising them that he’ll join the next time too, and he watches Bakugou stalk away, brainstorming more terrible food combos under his breath. He laughs and heads to his own room, nose still tingling from the wasabi, his own thoughts clouded with the worst foods he can think of. That’s when inspiration strikes.

Ojiro pulls his phone out and dials a number he’s known since forever. She picks up after 2 rings.

“What’s up kiddo?”

“Hey mom.” Ojiro’s smile turns wicked. “Talk to me about your pregnancy cravings.”

[more-stuff-of-pi]

I’ll Fight For You

a/n: lmao i swear i’m fine, just needed good ol’ kiri to assist me in a v self-indulgent fic. also, sorry for taking forever to write something yoinks

notes: did i read through this after i wrote it? nope. we’re fucking rolling with the audacity of not even a single ounce of beta-ing. requests are open :) find my masterlist here

pairing: kirishima eijirou x fem!reader | genre: angst (w/happy ending) / hurt/comfort | warnings: abusive mother (mental/verbal), a father who doesn’t intervene | word count: 2,018

Your boyfriend was practically vibrating with nerves as he adjusted his hair in the mirror. It was artfully piled on top of his head, his dark roots making a sharp contrast against the vibrant red.

“Ei,” you smiled, “you’re gonna be fine.”

He worried his sharp teeth against his bottom lip, frowning all the while. “But what if they--?”

“They’re going to love you, Ei. Probably even more than they love me,” you joke, coming up behind Eijirou’s monstrously large form. Hero work had been both kind and harsh on him but he made it look effortlessly good. You gently slid your arms around his waist as you angled yourself so that you could still eye his reflection.

“I’m just… worried, is all.”

You cock your eyebrow. “About what, Ei?”

He incredulously meets your gaze through the mirror. “What do you mean, about what?!”

It dawns on you a little bit. “Oh, well, she’s not going to be mean to you, Ei. She knows how to play nice when it counts. And you, good sir, count.”

“That’s not as reassuring as it is worrying, you know.”

“My mother is just a little intense, babe, it’s nothing I’m not used to. Like I said, she knows how to tone it down in front of others. I’m sure tonight will be fine. I probably just exaggerate everytime I whine about her, so she’s probably not even half as bad as I make her sound,” you shrug, leaning more into Eijirou’s side.

“Baby,” he sighs, twisting a little to look directly at you, no mirror this time. His eyes are sad yet firm as if wishing you to understand that there’s no need to defend yourself with him.

You squeeze him tighter before letting go and walking to the door. “C’mon, we’ll be late if we don’t leave now.”

❁

You always forget that you don’t really ever exaggerate your mother’s behavior towards you until you’re around her again. Everything as far as introducing your boyfriend to your parents has been going incredibly smoothly. Your dad enthusiastically engaged Eijirou in hero stories, talking about Red Riot’s  most recent media appearance where he was dressed in pajamas and carrying tubs of various ice creams you both had wanted to try when he dropped everything to prevent a construction beam from falling on clueless bystanders. Only one tub of ice cream had survived and luck had it that it was your least favorite flavor combination. Your mother praised Eijirou for his success and his coupling good looks at which she winked, making your boyfriend flush both at the phrase and the uncomfortable comments your mother directed at him. You winced at that, having forgotten to prepare him for the habitual talent your mother had of sexualizing anything, especially if it would ‘embarrass’ her child.

Your mother had made off handed comments throughout the whole night that you seemed to be the only one to pick up on. Your dad might have noticed a few but, as usual, he only looked at you apologetically, never interrupting his wife to stand up for you.

As much as you loved both of your parents and as much as they had their good moments, this fucking sucked.

“--not that she’s any good with that quirk of hers, of course,” your mother snickered as she brought the glass to her lips. You had become a good actor over the years in order to avoid your mother’s bullying over your ‘sensitiveness’, but something about her dismissing your hard work always immediately dismantled whatever mask you had thrown on. To cover what you know must be a crestfallen look, you give a laugh, something that could be called half-hearted at best. Your eyes remained trained on your food. “Oh come on, Y/n, that was funny.”

You chuckled again, hoping to force some genuineness into it. “Yeah--”

“No, it wasn’t,” Eijirou immediately cuts you off, voice straining with anger. You felt your face drain of blood as you noticed how tightly he was gripping his chopsticks. He was fuming. You don’t think you’d ever seen him angry before. The thought scared you. “That was just mean.”

Your mother quirked an unimpressed, subtly pissed brow at your boyfriend. “Don’t be sensitive, Eijirou. House rules: if it’s mean but funny, it’s okay.”

“As long as you get a laugh from it, it’s okay to abuse your child?” He spits at her like venom.

Your mother sets her glass down, eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?”

“You heard--”

You slap a hand over Eijirou’s bicep, squeezing so hard you wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up bruising. “It’s fine! Nothing I’m used to! I grew up on the ‘if it’s mean but funny’ rule, so it’s fine.”

The look he gave you was of incredulous anger. “No, it is not--!”

“Please, Ei. Please, just--,” you averted your eyes, ashamed of your own familiar defeat. “Just sit.”

Shamefully, you slide back into your seat, nervously smoothing out a napkin back onto your lap. Eijirou still stood beside you, staring daggers at your mother who effortlessly returned it. His fists were balled, the veins in his hands flexing with the effort of restraining himself. His jaw snapped shut with an audible clamp as he resolved himself to sitting back down.

Your dad clears his throat, more so than necessary as if the harder he did it, the better he could dissipate the tension. “Done, everyone?” No one answers him. He takes that as the go ahead to begin clearing dishes, desperately jumping at the opportunity to escape your mother’s impending tantrum. You loved your dad very much but, god, he was nothing if not a coward, always leaving you to fight your own battles. You don’t think you’ve ever won.

Your mother returns her cold attention to you, the ice starting to thicken and your mother’s hollow kindness starting to retreat along with her patience. “What are you even doing to help train your quirk, sweetie?”

Taken aback, you met her gaze. “W-what do you mean?”

“I mean, I don’t ever see you doing anything at all to help. You do realize that training takes work, right? What does it take? It takes--,” your mother trailed off, flourishing both hands to motion for you to finish the sentence.

“Effort--”

“Effort!” She clapped with your word. “It takes effort! And I only want the best for you, sweetheart, which is why I’m just asking what you’re doing. From where I stand, it doesn’t look like you’re doing anything at all to help improve yourself! As your mother, your concerned mother, I’m just looking out for you, sweetheart.”

Your mind is reeling at her words. You so badly want to defend yourself, assert all of the effort that you have painstakingly put in-- but you are reminded of the precise way your mother is able to leech any ounce of power or confidence from you. You would think that was her quirk if you didn’t know any better. “Mom, I am putting effort in, I train almost everyday--”

“Do you really?” Her voice drips with venomous shock. “It certainly doesn’t look like you do,” she gestures vaguely at you, eyeing your body with a vulture’s gaze. “Maybe you should consider morning and night. Oh! And a diet change, too. You know, since the popular heroes have a specific look to them and I just want to make sure that you can fit that. Since it’s your dream to be a popular hero. Like I said, you have to be willing to put in the effort. Oh, sweetie, don’t look at me like that. You know the difficult position I’m in! Trying to encourage you and help you achieve your dreams while not seeming too enthusiastic. You’re putting that stress on me, sweetie, I’m only trying to help.”

It really was incredible how quickly your mother could erase any confidence you had. Normally, you would stand beaming, more than happy to assert yourself and stand up for yourself and others. All it took was a couple words from your mother, and you turned into a dog with its head down and its tail between its legs, fearful of its master.

Your gut sank and hatred swirled throughout your body for both yourself and her as you once again let her have power over you. “You’re right. Sorry, Mom--”

“Do you know where your daughter ranks as a hero?”

Stunned, you both glanced at Eijirou, having almost completely forgotten that he was there. Throughout her tirade, you had felt a tragically familiar loneliness, used to having to defend yourself when no one, not even your other family members, would. Used to always submitting and used to the shame that always accompanied your forced silence.

“What?” She spat.

“I asked if you knew your daughter’s ranking. I just was wondering, is all. It would make sense if you weren’t aware that she ranks in the top 30 since you were asking about the effort she puts in. I would think that that accomplishment -- at such a young age, too, might I add -- was evidence enough of the countless hours, blood, sweat, and tears that she has poured into this. The effort she’s painstakingly put in. You’re right that being a hero is her dream, and she’s a damn good one, too. Saved my life more than once with ‘that quirk of hers’,” he sneered bitterly. “And, on top of that, she’s so beautiful through and through that sometimes it’s all I can do to stare at her in awe. Your thinly veiled shaming of her appearance is never the result of a mother’s so-called difficult situation, only the result of your own insecurities.”

Eijirou suddenly stands, having finally had more than enough for one night. “The only gratitude I will ever have towards you is for bringing this wonderful woman into this world. I hope one day you’ll actually realize how amazing your daughter is and how proud of her you ought to be. Because I am. I am so incredibly proud of her and her accomplishments and the results of her efforts.”

“And who’s to say that I’m not proud of her, Eijirou?”

He scoffs. Eijirou, the kindest, most patient man you know, scoffs in your mother’s face. “Haven’t you ever heard that actions speak louder than words?”

Your mother gapes up at him, opening and closing her mouth like a fish. In that moment, she resembles a fish and you couldn’t be more pleased with that comparison.

“He’s right, mom.” You rise to join him. “I know you love me. I have no choice but to believe it because I think it would destroy me if I didn’t. But maybe someday I won’t constantly have to defend myself to you and you’ll accept the things I say without dismissing them. You always say you admire me most for my assertiveness but you shut me down anytime I use it to stand up for myself against you. And that makes you nothing but a hypocrite.” You stare her down, reveling in the confidence Eijirou gives you in this thing against your mother. For the first time, you are not alone as you fight this battle. For the first time, you have help. And for the first time, you feel like you’ve won. “Now if you’ll excuse us.”

You take Eijirou’s hand and lead him out of the house, leaving your parents to stare after you in shock. As soon as you make it out, cold air hits you like a slap in the face that harshly wakes you from a daze.

“Holy shit, Ei, did I just stand up to my mom?”

He laughs and squeezes your hand. “It was pretty manly, too.” You laugh breathlessly, still in disbelief as you push your other fist against his arm. “And you know,” he continues, “that I’m the best judge of that.”

“That must mean a lot,” you grin, swinging your linked hands between you as you walk further from your parents’ home, feeling the fullness of a good meal and a battle won.

taglist: @samwrights, @mayaoliviee, @luluwiie​, @gigglyparker​ (i thought i would tag you since you commented on the draft that i posted of this, hope you don’t mind <3)

[melliflovs]

Beautiful Mess - Gojo x Reader

Word Count: 1,675

Warnings: Angst, longing, kinda sad

Summary: Reader comes to terms with her feelings after being faced with her emotions once she sees Gojo again for their monthly battle, even if it gets interrupted.

A/N: I didn't check this for errors cause my computers about to die but I wanted to post this for you guys!

Requests open!

In truth he found you incredible, but would he ever admit it? No. Of course not.

It was moments like this, the stars shining down on you and the wind blowing through your hair that made Gojo pause. He wished things could be different.

You could've been teaching alongside him, or anything else from the life you chose. He frowned to himself. Were you really happy?

At least twenty curses surrounded you. The dark purple aura slowly beginning to cover you from his view as you laughed in the distance. He just wanted a moment more to watch you before the inevitable battle before the two of you.

You knew he was there, close enough to see but too far away to touch. For now, you'd continue on as you were, playfully petting a curse on its head. It resembled a dog and chose to stay by your side, granted it looked and smelled horrendous but you'd take what you could get. They milled about you, waiting for their commands. They were all grade 3 curses, childs play for people like Gojo - people like you. But they weren't supposed to be strong, they were just to garner attention.

After the purple fog fully enveloped you Gojo knew it was time. You stood high on the tallest skyscraper, the clouds within reach.

You always thought Gojo was incredible. Irresistible looks, unbeatable strength, and a massive ego. Time spent with him was cherished, even if it meant small tricks and claims to get his attention but he never failed to deliver.

You heard his footsteps approach slowly, with your back turned the curses began to howl. A small smile tugged on the edges of your lips but you held it back. Slowly you turned to face him.

"Come with me." He said, Gojo had his hands in his pocket with a blindfold covering his eyes. You wondered if you'd ever be able to see them again.

"Traded out the glasses, huh?" You teased, "Do the students find it more intimidating." Sparks lit up your eyes as power began to surge through you.

Gojo smirked and flexed his muscles at you "I was always intimidating, just thought the blindfold added more flare."

He wished they'd stop sending him, the elders always too quick to call upon him once they knew you were involved. They started questioning why the job was never 'finished' they wanted you dead. You were the villain in this story, the creator of curses and sorrow. But how could someone so beautiful be so destructive? It didn't make sense to him.

The first time you'd met Gojo you were both 16. He was a student at the time, sent to a school to take down a low-level curse. It was a teaching method of his Sensei's to send his students alone on smaller tasks - one he ultimately ended up using himself. Instead, he found you surrounded in a purple haze curled into a ball.

You were so small at the time, anxious and afraid with tears streaming down your face. Gojo could feel the power inside you, radiating from your fragile body. It brought him to his knees in front of you. It was the first time you'd ever seen his eyes, hair hanging out in front of his face. He reached out to you, mesmerized by you.

He'd never encountered power like his before, different from his yet so similar in strength. Gojo was so distracted by you that he ignored the scattered limbs of what used to be your fellow classmates.

When he looked at you he was amazed, every single time. But you'd grown now, no longer the scared little girl who didn't know who or what you were. But you knew now. Years of hating yourself for what you were born as, what you'd accidentally do to people. Eventually, you embraced it.

In the years that you'd been actively on Gojo's radar, no one had narrowed down what you were. They knew you were human, a child abandoned and forced into foster care. From what he could tell your emotions were so strong that the smallest offense could make the curses in the surrounding 10 miles stronger and multiply them. You were no longer a grade 3 curse. You were special grade, a girl with explosive feelings that were considered to be on the same level as Sukuna.

You still didn't compare to Gojo though.

"Come with me, (y/n)" He repeated, his eyes desperate under the blindfold. He wondered if she could tell how much he wished she would listen to him.

She shook her head lightly, lowering her head to the ground. "You know I can't do that Satoru."

He nodded in response, he knew she was right. They'd execute her if she followed him back to the school. In a way (y/n) reminded him as Yuji, the elders were cowards whatever they couldn't understand they eliminated. Eventually, they'd meet the same unfortunate fate. Gojo wouldn't be able to protect either of them.

Gojo was shaken out of his thoughts by the sound of a single snap. Looking up he watched as all the curses surrounding her dive off the skyscraper and into the city set loose to wreak havoc. The dog-shaped curse stayed, wagging its crooked tailback and forth.

"Good," He teased, "Was starting to get a bit crowded up here."

The purple haze had almost completely disappeared from the rooftop once the curses left. You took a deep breath, "I'm not ready yet, Gojo. Ten minutes."

He jokingly checked his bare wrist as if looking at a watch "Fine" He pouted "But I'm counting."

You gave him a weak smile, walking over to the edge of the roof and sitting down, letting your legs hang over the edge. You'd be lying if you said looking down didn't make you feel sick, you were at least 100 stories above ground. But the lights were so pretty, the glow of all of them lit up the night, reflecting in your eyes. You felt his presence approach you, standing behind you as you sat.

"Why does it have to be this way?" You whispered, it was so quiet he might not have been able to hear you. It would've probably been for the best if he hadn't.

Hesitantly he placed his hand on your head, giving your hair a soft pat. He made you feel so little, so small in comparison. Just like the day you met. "Because life is unfair to powerful people."

You hummed at his response, "I wish things were different." You tilted your head up, looking at him through your lashes, hair falling in your face. "I wish we weren't such a mess."

"At least we're a beautiful mess." He said grinning down at you.

"I miss your eyes Gojo, why cover them like that all the time?" You asked, still staring at the dark blindfold. You could only imagine what shade of blue hid behind it.

"Decided not everyone should have the privilege to see these sparklers." The smile on his face grew as he said this, quirking his head to the side.

"Can I see them?" The more time you spent in his presence the calmer you felt. Gradually you felt the weight of your powers lift off your shoulder. A calm smile never had any trouble settling on your face whenever you were around him. It was hard to admit, even to yourself, but looking at his shining smile for the first time in months made you realize you'd missed him. "Please Gojo."

His grin faded into a soft smile. Nodding his head, Gojo reached up and began to untie the knot holding the blindfold.

"I think it's been ten minutes, Satoru. What do you think?" The voice made the two of you jump, Gojo's hands dropping away from the halfway untied covering. "Maybe you just got distracted with" He waved his hand around distastefully "This."

"Leave. Now." Gojo whispered, just low enough that the new man wouldn't be able to hear him. He seemed afraid, not of the man but of what would happen if any of his higher-ups found out about the two of you - whatever you were, even if you didn't know yourselves.

He stalked over the man, who was dressed impeccably in a white button-down. He held a wooden paddle tightly in his hand and pushed up his glasses as Gojo walked up to him.

"Look, Nanami, it's not what you think." He said holding up his hands defensively. Realistically he didn't know if his colleague would even believe any lie he could up of in time. Gojo tried to straighten himself out. Putting on his signature smirk, "You know how I get around the ladies. They just can't help themselves."

Nanami let out a sigh, looking at his friend with pity. "The way she looks at you... it's like she'd be willing to take a bullet for you." It wasn't normal the way you looked at Gojo. Like he was the sun and you were a flower stuck in the shade. "And I'm sure under that ridiculous blindfold you were looking at her like that too."

Gojo stayed quiet, the fake smirk dropping from his face. The silence hovered for a moment, making his chest fill with dread as Nanami thought it over in his head.

Suddenly he turned, beginning to walk towards the exit. "Come on, let's go."

"Are you going to tell anyone?" Gojo asked as he followed his coworker. He wrung his hands nervously together.

"No."

He let out a sigh of relief. A small smile began to tug at his lips, he was grateful to the blonde, not many people he knew would risk helping him like this. Subtly he looked over his shoulder.

Thankfully you were already gone, thankfully you were safe. At least for the time being. As he stepped towards the stairwell to make his way down the skyscraper, Gojo realized one thing:

You never got to see his eyes.

[bookwrm130]

Legends, what am I going to do with you?

This finale was something else. Does it compare to the best season finale of legends ever (S3 finale)? No, but dang, it got pretty close. This was a good ender to a stellar season from the Legends. And because I have feelings about it, I want to talk about it. Spoilers ahead and apologies for the rambles and potential grammar errors. This will not be edited or structured in the slightest.

Whoo, where to begin? Well, let's start with the things I like. I love that Spooner called their regular dinners their family dinners because even though only two of them are related by blood, they are a family. I love that slight glimpse into life after retirement, but I also love how they subtly kinda hate not romping around in a time ship anymore. I love how, just like last episode said, the Legends would rather break the timeline than break Gwynn's heart. I love the bond between Astra, Gideon, and Spooner. I love how these three women kicked ass and holy crap, Astra. You're such a powerful witch now. John would be so proud.

And as much as it saddens me, I love Nate's goodbye. We get really used to people leaving the Legends. Some people get a really epic sendoffs while others just quietly leaves. Nate's was missing that group hug (I suspect COVID protocols, but who knows), but I got really close to crying.

Let's stay on this Nate train of thought for a while. Other than Sara, (and Gideon), Nate's been on the ship the longest. He's been there for seemingly forever. Remember that Legends partially wouldn't exist if it weren't for the effort of Dr. Nathaniel Heywood noticing something wonky is going on in history. It's hard to think of Legends without him. Yes, I know. We've done this before but I dunno. It just felt different this time. I think because I felt like the season did hint at Nate leaving, but I kept saying no, it can't be. Right? But he is leaving and I'm gonna be so sad when I don't see him next season. (Yes, I'm manifesting a season 8 right now.)

Before I move on, I want to touch on Booster Gold for a second. I'll be honest with you, my only exposure to Booster was when he dated Harley Quinn for a hot second in her solo comic run. Didn't know much about him other than that. But what I will say is that I'm so glad they changed his backstory from a washed-up former football star to a potential fugitive that idolizes the Legends because of their rulebreaking ways. Also, he ain't a blue-eyes, yellow-haired white man and that's always a plus in my book. He seems like a perfect addition to the zaniness that is Legends and, as a future man, he seems like the perfect encyclopedia replacer after Nate's departure.

So, the things I didn't like, as few as they are, still must be aired out. I really wished there were more Tarazi stuff. I know this is just one of the downsides of having an ensemble cast, some of them will just gets pushed aside temporarily, but I kinda wished it wasn't my favorite siblings. Not really much happening for Zari or Behrad, individually or in regards to others.

There's one thing that I don't understand, so I have no idea what to feel about it: what was with that whole thing with Gwyn seeing his past self? Was its only purpose to show Gwyn that he was not the coward that he thinks he is? Was there something else that I missed? I don't know, it was just a meh from me. Maybe on a second watching I can figure something else out.

And then on to the big thing. The one I'm still processing. The Avalance pregnancy storyline. I woke up late this morning, so I didn't get a chance to watch it live as it airs. I had to wait until the workday was done until that happened. But the thing with me is that I'm not an anti-spoiler type so I just merrily checked the Legends tag to see what happened. And of course, the first thing I saw was that Sara was pregnant. The thing that everyone guessed and that I secretly wished would not happened. But it did.

Ugh, there's so much for me to breakdown here, including my own personal feelings about marriage, having children, and the biological process known as pregnancy. But, I will say this. Overall, it's a very sweet story. It's very, very clear how much these two women love each other. And it should be enough. Emphasis on should.

Let's rewind this a bit and process, shall we? The first thing that drew me to this relationship was the start. Turns out, I love a good enemy to lovers storyline. Surprise, surprise (hello wildmoore). But what kept me interested weren't that initial flirtation, but what happens afterwards. For, I think, five years now, these women were in a very much committed relationship and there were nary a talk about marriage or children. Maybe a joke here and there, but it seemed like they were perfectly content on being in a committed relationship without getting married, having a baby, or even settling down in a house somewhere.

And then within a span of a year they're married and is having a baby. I don't want to call the writers lazy, because I don't think they are, but I am somewhat disappointed that they think the "inevitable" next step for a couple is to get married and have babies. It makes me sad because it feels like it's reinforcing this heteronormative progress to a realtionship.

Before I continue, I want to say I get it. Us queers have a hard enough life as it is. Some of us just want that normal life, but just with two women/two men/whatever combination. And I get that Ava and Sara are fulfilling the wishes of so many w/w couples who wants babies that are biologically theirs, no stranger's dna involved in the mix. I get all that. But also, for a show that puts a lot of emphasis on found family, they're a bit too focused on the biology of things. Why can't they just adopt? Why are they looking for donors in the first place? AND WHY ARE THEY WORRIED ABOUT ALCOHOL WHEN THEY HAVEN'T EVEN GOTTEN THEIR HANDS ON THE GODDAMN SPERM??? NO ONE HAS BEEN INSEMINATED WITH ANYTHING. NO ONE SHOULD BE WORRIED ABOUT ALCOHOL POISONING A FETUS.

Okay, I know I'm putting down this storyline a lot, but there are a few things that I enjoyed about it. The first and foremost is Sara's freakout. That is exactly how I would imagine Sara reacting to the news that she is pregnant. This is a woman that is in control of her body. She is a trained assassin that knows exactly what her body can and can't do. We saw a bit about how freaked out she was when her DNA was spliced with an alien. But it's another thing knowing that an unplanned living being is inside you and relying on you for sustenance. Also, it's kinda funny to see the usually stoic captain just yelling and having a mental breakdown.

I'm gonna tell you why I also don't like the pregnancy storyline. You know what happened the last time a character was pregnant? He left the ship after his babies were born. I also don't like the idea of a baby in this adventure. And I understand this is a sci-fi show and I understand that the writers can just make the baby have some alien growth spurt and suddenly the kid is played by a 10-year-old after 1 day ala Wandavision but I dunno. I'm just not gonna be a fan of this storyline.

Y'know what, I'm gonna blame Caity and Jes for making me feel this way. (I say this in jest.) In a panel at ClexaCon, they were the first to put the idea of these two women not getting married, not settling down in the traditional sense. We've already got plenty of w/w couples that get married and raise a child. Heck, we got one a few months ago at the finale of Supergirl. I hear that firefighter(EMTs? I can't remember) show's w/w couple are also having kids. Calzona started it all, I think. Then there were The Fosters. Don't forget about Emily and Alison, if you want to count them. Oh I guess Wildmoore, too, if you want to count their alternative future self. What about Jane Ramos who went from saying no kids to fine, I like your kids, Petra. This is just off the top of my head. I'm sure there's more examples.

Can someone point me to a non-married, non-traditional, very much against having children, w/w fictional couple in a comedy or comedy-leaning show that have lasted for a minimum of three seasons? Please?