#because i think hed take it as not only a dismissal of how hard he's worked

[fruifruit]

@kitidoodles YOU ARE SO RIGHT (check their tags im responding to them)

i can’t find a way to transform this into a comic right now but i truly believe “i don’t want to battle you anymore” is one of the worst things that mc can say to kieran

[fatmaclover]

theres something to be said about how mac still holds such a childish adoration for his parents after such a long time. how literally its shown to us by the fact that

mac always slicked his hair back as a child, when he still had contact with his father

he stops doing this into adulthood, but later in life, once mac interacts with his father again, he starts slicking his hair back again

he doesnt stop. slicking his hair back. until his own father walks out during his coming out performance. the guy he put it on for. only after that does he completely stop styling his hair that way

not to mention the constant refusal that his mom (and dad) could be anything but perfect, the way hes so desperate to do good by them, viewing them as the way to measure his success...

and. yeah thats. something.

the internal denial that his parents treated him poorly, the fact that its his primary instinct to deny that his parents suck, the constant dismissal of his own issues relating to family because his whole life hes been told that "other people have it worse". the way hes internalized that so hard. the way it takes his dad walking out on macs coming out performance to him for mac to stop blindly idolizing some guy whos threatened to kill him

the constant fear of his own father, while also believing him to be the coolest bestest guy ever. the way he always assumes his father is gonna get violent when actually talking to him, but sings nothing but praises when away from him

the fact that he still calls his dad "daddy" even.

i mean you cant really blame him for not fully growing up in some areas huh

its not even that i think he doesnt know that his parents treat him horribly, it just really seems like he wants so badly to believe thats not the case from years of having his cries for help ignored or made fun of. he cant have been treated poorly, because charlie was treated poorly, and his baggage isnt nearly as bad as charlies, so clearly macs home life wasnt bad.

i think thats proven most of all by his frustration with his own family at times, it really feels like theres some underlying issues. they can very quickly manifest as frustration and anger, but honestly its probably mostly sadness. the way he reacts to his own mother really reminds me of how i interact with family members i have grudges with but have to pretend i dont. im not actually angry at any of these people, im mostly just exhausted by them.

he very clearly is still aware of the neglect he faced as a kid, to me. he knows his home life was severely fucked up, hes just never been able to express that, so hes coped by just. pretending that it didnt happen.

and realistically i dont know if he could ever properly acknowledge that his home life was fucked and his parents suck. maybe hed acknowledge that his dad sucks now, but it wouldnt have been that bad when he was a kid and wasnt a fag. right? he was loved then. his mom still did a great job raising him, and he really loves her, and he was raised with all the love and care a child needs.

[lepoppeta]

VOX and ALASTOR (in relation to other ships)

this is a long one, whoopsie. it gets a bit ramble-y - sorry if its hard to follow.

in the context of ships outside of radiostatic (namely voxvel and alastiel) i feel like its bad form to remove any and all instances of alastor and vox knowing each other prior for the sake of these other relationships. that being said im personally not a huge fan of pining/unrequited love, so ive been thinking about vox and alastors falling out through a non-sexual, non-traditionally romantic lens (but mostly non-sexual - calling something non-romantic is tricky because romance is so subjective. granted, so is sex, but its less so - maybe i should be saying non-erotic? eh, whatever).

thankfully, the situation works out to be just as potentially heartbreaking (if youre into that sort of thing). the angle im working from is that vox and alastor absolutely used to be Asshole Friends - cutthroat overlords and jovial rivals who absolutely made everyone elses lives around them miserable for their own amusement. after they both became aware that voxs power and influence was succeeding alastors own, vox offered him a partnership, and alastor refused.

usually what i see from fan content is that vox intends this "partnership" to be romantic and/or sexual, and alastor, wanting none of it, rebuffs him. vox is often depicted as a horny wet cat of a person, and while its funny, its not something i personally go for (in fact, one of my headcanons is that any relationship that vox may have with valentino is actually a coping mechanism for his hurt feelings, and is in no way indicative of how hed actually be with alastor in comparison to val). additionally, making vox super-horny and masochistic is sometimes used as a way to put vox in the wrong, either as a way to balance the argument or to have alastor be morally correct for dismissing him. while i like all three options, this version of events will definitely make vox look like more of an asshole, but dont worry - alastors no basket of roses either. he does his damage too, just to the wrong person.

in this instance im using themes of modernisation versus standardisation. my favourite version of alastor to play with mostly relates to his comic counterpart, and as part of that i like to imagine that he likes being "vintage" and doesnt consider this a detriment to his abilities as an overlord, even if hes not as influential as he once was. vox, meanwhile, comes from a mindset where progress and modernisation is everything. alastor is his friend - a business partner in everything but documentation, and he doesnt want to leave such an asset behind. he offers alastor the chance to team up, but that comes with the added caveat that alastor will have to start doing things voxs way, otherwise the plan wont work. hell have to give up the aesthetic and morals that make him "alastor".

how awful would that be - to be friends with someone who you truly enjoyed being with, without any sort of concern, only to have them so fundamentally misunderstand you as a person that all those years of closeness are spat back in your face? alastor, understandably, doesnt take this well at all, and venemously ends contact then and there. vox, also understandably, is angry and confused - alastor left him with little to no explanation as to why, and vox i dont think would understand why anyone wouldnt want to modernise eventually. vox may never have killed anyone, but hes in hell too - hes still his own brand of awful.

this eventually ties into alastor growing closer to zestial - i like to imagine that zestial has a soft spot for alastor (and potentially also sir pentious, who i like to imagine is the lowest-ranking overlord in hell) because, like him, he maintains pride in his origins and resists modernisation. zestial doesnt dislike vox (i dont think zestial outright dislikes anyone) and others of his ilk, but he doesnt really get why the afterlife should be associated with technological progress. but, thats a post for another time.

[sollucets]

actually i was talking to @sommmnus abt this on my fic comments and i think have more to say

so. does sand know he is lying?

the first time? no, i don’t think so. when ray asks him in the kitchen, i think sand is disappointed but, given that he usually keeps his hookups & relationships in neat and very separate boxes, he’s never even had to TRY. so its basically a “how hard could it be” moment. also, at this point sand thinks he’ll hold firm on one time only and he and ray will just be kind of flirty friends, but ray does not take his repeated reiterations to heart, obviously, and thus

cut to one party later, after ray has spent the ENTIRE TIME mooning at him and directly flirting with him and holding his hand and driving him home and making out with him, sand has been duly corrected. he cannot. he absolutely cannot

so he tests the waters. you know, i’ve never slept with someone more than once if we’re not dating, ray, what do you think about that? and ray responds kind of jokingly dismissive (implying that hed only be sand’s boyfriend for sex) so sand is defensive and lies that time. oh of course he knows the difference. hed never want to be your boyfriend anyway >:(

and then, that particular kicked puppy look after the phone call is Because sand is aware he was lying. i dont have the right to be upset with you, but i obviously am anyway.

teasers always lie of course but his ‘dont do this to people’ line only confirms it really

he Knows, ok. i promise he knows

[starboundsingularities]

Do you really think Dimentio can't be reformed? Than hear me out and than decide. After you read this, tell me if you think Dimentio can't be reformed or can he? (You don't have to respond if you don't want to)

When Timpani and Blumiere sacrificed themselfs they went 3,000 years back to the past. They wrote down they’re entire adventure in a book which people started calling: Dark Prognosticus. But they didn’t knew if the worlds saved or not. They only wrote what they lived and because the rest are unknown to the authors people though no more pages means no more future.

According to the game whoever the magician is created the pixls by studying the Dark Progniticus. And since the magician got his hands on the book and isn’t afraid of the book. Which means the author and the magician are the same person. And since Timpani is a human, the magicain must be Blumiere/Count Bleck. Which means both Dimentio and The Pixl Queen are Blumiere/Count Bleck and Timpani’s children. That's why he hadn't killed them before the Super Dimentio fight. Because he didn't borned yet, if they die, HE DIES as well. And at the end of SPM I think Blumiere and Timpani teleported 3,000 years into the past. The reason both The Pixl Queen and Dimentio has the power of illusions is because they are siblings. The magician that created the pixls had a wife, a son and a daughter after all.

im gonna be super honest here and like. dont take this as me being mean but i entirely dont get any of this lol i FEEL like. and i cant rlly say much abt this cuz im not the count. but i feel like if i was in that position. i would perhaps maybe not write the book that led 2 the near destruction of all worlds. but again im not the count and past that i just dont get like i guess all of it? like its a neat concept but idk how we got here plus i didnt say i thought he couldnt BE reformed just that it was hard 2 imagine a reformed dimentio. which yes does mean a little that i find it a teensy bit hard 2 believe but also just that i couldnt rlly imagine what hed be like at all cuz obv i know that his entire personality isnt centered around his plans and his being "evil" but a lot of what weve seen is within that context. and its difficult for me 2 rlly imagine what would lead him to ever change cuz we dont even know whats rlly motivating him at all also idk how this relates 2 him being reformed its more of a reason that he didnt kill those 2 people specifically. personally i kinda like 2 think he didnt kill them because even though hed never admit it deep down he DOES care about the people hes met because he also doesnt kill mimi or o'chunks. and no i dont think they rlly just ended up in dimension d for no reason i dont think thats necessarily just a place u can go if u want i think dimentio put them there this got kinda super long lol i wont apologize for that tho. again if this sounds like mean or dismissive i prommy its not meant like that i just genuinely dont get it

[assembletheimagines]

If ur still taking requests, hear me out 👀

Bucky x reader smut, were the reader is insecure about her looks, weight, appearence. Whatever, shes just not happy with how she looks, shes insecure. But!! 👀 hear me out. Shes got a praise kink, she loves it. But she also has a hard time accepting compliments cause, u know its hard XD so! Bucky finds out and essentially worships her relentlesly in bed, absolute best dude super sweet but isnt afraid to man handle. Like, oh u think ur too heavy? Bam im picking u up and fucking u against the wall, try me.

Im going insane. The THOTS im having 🥴 uhhhhhh ya anyway. Hed be so good and caring but relentless at the same time hed be so good i just know it broskee

Show You | Bucky x Reader

lmao broskee

warning: slight exhibitionism, praise, pet names, cream pie, 18+ to interact, smut

tag list: @potatothots @elle14-blog1 @getwellsoontana @avengetheunnatural @littlelightnings @alternativeprincess

summary: Bucky decides to show you how beautiful he thinks you are

-

You did try your best to be positive, truly, you did. But when you were walking past a mirror? Or when you caught your reflection in the shopping windows? Your mind couldn’t help but whisper.

Whispering negativity in your heart and twist your confidence until the smile that was gracing your lips only moments ago was replaced with a frown. It caused you to tug your shirt down to hide and move your hair to cover anything you couldn’t stand to look at.

And Bucky just couldn’t understand it.

His eyes catching the small moments that you thought no one noticed.

So, he started off slow.

When walking by you as he headed to the training room to meet with Sam. He directed his smile at you and greeted you with a, “Hello, Beautiful.” He enjoyed the way your cheeks darkened red from his compliment but you were quick to dismiss him with a wave of your hand.

And you see, Bucky was a man who had been touch starved for a long time and he wasn’t used to reaching out. But meeting you, it had changed him. And to simply put it, he couldn’t get enough. Wanting to be around you, to hold you, to tell you how beautiful he really thought you were.

He didn’t understand how you couldn’t see it yourself?

So he tried again, when he saw you in the kitchen struggling to grab a snack from the pantry; he didn’t hesitate to slide over. His height towering over you as he held onto your hip with his metal hand and grabbed the snack you wanted.

“Thank you,” you mumbled softly and Bucky smiled, squeezing your hip in response as he nodded his head.

“Anything for you, Beautiful.” But like before, you shook your head in denial and left him with a frown as you went back to your room.

So, that’s when he decided, maybe you needed a different approach.

On a quiet Sunday, you were surprised to find yourself in a store with Bucky.

The handsome super hero following behind you diligently as you browsed the store slowly. You weren’t sure why he invited himself to join you but you did enjoy his company so you didn’t object.

Your fingers brushed along the clothesline, eyes roaming over various patterns and colors of dresses as you walked.

And you did your best not to pay attention to the other women who gaped and fawned over the handsome brunette behind you.

“That one looks nice,” he hummed as you lifted one dress up to look at it closer. You could feel his warmth as he stood close behind you and it burned a heat through your body. “You should try it on.”

You’re not sure if it was because of how close he was too you or because you actually agreed but you found yourself in a dressing room with Bucky right outside.

The dress was beautiful. Perfect for the summer and actually didn’t look half bad on you. You turned every which way to get different angles but we’re distracted by the shuffling outside.

“You have it on?” Bucky’s voice filtered through the door and you instantly felt nervous as you remembered the handsome man right outside. “Can I see?” Was his next question and you second guessed yourself as you stared further into the mirror.

“Uhm,” your voice went up in pitch from your anxiety and you tugged the bottom of the dress that fell just above your knees.

Your hesitation was enough for Bucky and he shocked you as he popped into the dressing room, quickly shutting the door behind him so no one else got a free show.

“Bucky!” Your alarm had him turning around and finally getting a look at you.

His eyes slowly raked over your body, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip. Fuck, you looked good. And with his lack of response, you shuffled from one foot to the other more nervous now you were trapped in a small space with the handsome man. “Absolutely gorgeous,” he whistled and your blush darkened as you pushed on his chest lightly.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” you huffed and Bucky’s hands found your waist as he tilted his head down at you. “We could get kicked out!”

“You’re definitely buying it, right?” He completely ignored your chides and turned you around so you faced the mirror. He hugged you from behind and met your eyes in the mirror. “I’m definitely buying it for you.”

“Bucky!”

His hands ran down your sides and played with the hem at the bottom, ghosting over your thighs. You held your breath. “But you might be too irresistible wearing this around the tower.” He whispered right into your ear and your eyes widened, his words bringing a warmth between your thighs.

You tried again, weakly calling his name, “Bucky.” And his hands disappeared under your dress. His blue eyes darkening as he kept your gaze in the mirror.

“If you can’t accept my compliments, then I guess I’ll have to show you.” He murmured and your lips parted in shock, your back now pressed firmly against his chest. “But you gotta be quiet, Bunny.” He mused, a smirk dancing on his lips now. “Don’t wanna get kicked out.”

Your body froze as Bucky’s fingers danced up your leg, his eyes staring intently into yours through the mirror. “Don’t stop watching,” he whispered and you gasped as the pads of his fingers dipped and brushed along your clothed pussy.

You and him both groaned as he felt just how wet you were and he immediately used his free hand to cover your mouth as his fingers slipped under your panties and into your slicked heat. “Are you this wet for me?” He hummed lowly and your eyes clenched shut as he pumped two fingers in and out of you slowly, your moans muffled by his hand that was still over your mouth.

A jolt of pain stung through your shoulder suddenly and caused your eyes to fly open. You watched through the mirror as Bucky’s tongue swept over the bite he had placed on your shoulder as he continued to fill you with his fingers over and over. “I told you too watch,” he said and the soft noise of his digits working inside you filled the room softly. You blushed harder.

“I knew you’d be good for me,” Bucky hummed and added another finger. “You’re taking me so well, baby.” His praised enticed a whine from you and he felt your pretty pussy clench around his fingers. He smirked.

“You like it when I tell you how good you are?” He mused and his thumb connected to your clit. Your body jerked and he made sure your legs wouldn’t give as he rubbed your sensitive bundle of nerves as he curled his fingers just right.

Your eyes rolled back in pleasure as his fingers brushed the gummy spot inside of you and you were thankful that his hand was over your mouth. The moan you let out was beyond sinful and had Bucky pressing his hard-on against your ass in response.

“Stay quiet,” he warned and then let go off your mouth as he slipped his fingers from between your thighs.

Bucky could see through the mirror how hazy your eyes were as you caught your breath. He gave you a wink as he licked his fingers clean, groaning softly at your taste. “C’mere,” he ordered and you instantly obeyed.

Bucky sat down on the small bench in the dressing room. He had unbuckled his belt and freed himself from his boxers. His length curving up to his abdomen as he pumped his fist over his girth, your eyes couldn’t stop watching the bit of pre-cum that leaked from his red tip. Your mouth watered at the sight.

Once you were close enough, Bucky pulled your panties down your legs and brought onto his lap. Your knees on either side of his hips as he lined his cock to your entrance.

He teased his tip up and down your folds, using your slick to coat his shaft as he pulled you into a loving kiss. “You’re going to be a good girl and stay quiet, yeah?” He hummed and you nodded your head dumbly your mind only on Bucky’s cock.

With one hand on your waist, Bucky slowly pulled you down and entered you. He eyes clenching shut as his head tipped back, he had to bite his lip from groaning loudly because you felt like heaven.

You on the other hand, clutched onto his shoulders as you felt every inch fill you slowly. He had to be the biggest you’ve ever taken and the stretch brought both pleasure and pain as you tried to contain your moans.

And once he was entirely in, his hand found the back of your head, pulling you into another kiss as you adjusted to his size. “Ride me,” he ordered and his hands grabbed your ass squeezing and earning a moan from you.

You followed his instructions and held onto his shoulder with one hand as your other hand rested on the wall behind him.

You lifted up on your knees, feeling his veiny shaft slide along your walls perfectly before going down again and stuffing yourself full once more. Your wall clenched around his girth and you began your pace. Bouncing yourself faster on his lap as each time brought you more and more pleasure.

“Looking so pretty, fucking yourself on my cock, Bunny.” He whispered the words and you felt more slick gather around his base. Bucky held onto your waist, helping your movements as he watched you. “Making a mess, you like it when I praise you, huh?” He cooed and the coil in your abdomen burned as your bounces sped up, chasing your release.

“S’big,” your eyes watered as the pleasure overwhelmed you. Your thighs began to shake as your movement grew sporadic. “Feels so good, Bucky.” You whined and Bucky could have come just from that.

Your slick smeared down his balls as you continued to ride him and Bucky could hear the creaking from the bench underneath him. Fuck it.

Without hesitating, Bucky’s arms wrapped around you as he stood up, still inside you. The new angle had him sliding deeper and hitting your soft spot perfectly.

And when he moved you gasped, surprised and turned on by his strength as he fucked into you harder. “Watch,” he hummed and your eyes flickered to the mirror.

You could see your face over Bucky’s shoulder as he pressed you against the wall, bullying his cock deeper into your pussy as he brought you closer to your orgasm. “Bucky, I’m close,” you whimpered, nails digging into his back as he buried his cock into you faster.

“Cum on my cock, Baby.” He grunted and your pussy throbbed around his shaft at the thought. “Show me how good I make you feel,” his lips attached to the curve of your neck and your head tilted back, granting him more access.

It was too much, the drag of his cock hitting your gummy spot with each roll of his hips as he kissed your neck and whispered praise. It pushed you over the edge, your lips parting in a silent sob as you saw white.

You gushed around Bucky’s cock, squeezing him as he continued to rut into you, helping you through your orgasm. “That’s my girl,” he praised watching as your eyes screwed shut and your back arched in pleasure. “Fuck you look so perfect.” He cooed and his hips stuttered as you continued to clench around his shaft. “You gonna be a good girl and take my cum?” He asked you felt your head nod as you babbled a yes.

That was all Bucky needed before his cock twitched inside of you, his cum filling you up as he kept you pinned against the wall.

Once you felt your breath regulate, you felt Bucky slowly slip out of you. His head dipping down to kiss you as you felt him tug on your dress. When he pulled away, the tag for the dress was ripped and now in his hand as he fixed his slacks. He gave you another wink.

To say you hid behind Bucky as he handed the ripped tag to the cashier ten minutes later was an understatement. The cashier was probably blushing as hard as you as she rang you up, noting Bucky’s messy hair and both of your disheveled looks.

You probably won’t be able to step a foot inside that store for a while. But you can’t pay attention to that, not when Bucky leans over to you when you get in the car to head home and he tells you that if he ever catches you feeling bad about yourself again he would show you otherwise again and again and again if need be.

[mochiimiiki]

|The pillars and hugging|

{Gyomei, Muichiro, Mitsuri, Rengoku, Giyuu, Shinobu, Uzui, Obanai, Sanemi x GN! reader}

warning: spoilers for the manga possibly?

A/N: they’re individually shipped with reader!!!

Gyomei

It was late after noon and Gyomei had been training all day with the the lower ranked demon slayers

hashira training had been hard on everyone especially gyomei and you

after all since it began you had barely been able to spend time with him, after all you had been relentlessly training with hashira after hashira

and now finally it came to when you when you would meet your beloved gentle giant

the other slayers had been dismissed for the day and sent to rest, so you set off in search for gyomei

you were met with him meditating by the lake side, the cool breeze of the on setting night and gentle splash of the water fall set all you nerves for the upcoming mission at ease

quietly you tiptoed up to gyomei and tackled him in a hug, although of course he was set in stone and didn’t budge an inch

a low chuckle escape his mouth “to think you couldn’t have waited until my meditation was done”

a grin creeped up your face, not that he could see

“i simply missed you my gentle giant~” you cooed sweetly purring into his neck as you hugged him tighter

after that gyomei postponed his meditation to indulge you in gentle cuddles

Muichiro

he doesn’t really mind hugs, publicly or privately theyre kinda a grey zone to him

he doesn’t get the whole “this is how one expressed their feelings” concept

to him hugs are just well... hugs!

nevertheless if you’re a big hugger he’ll never dare tell you to stop, whatever makes you happy makes him happy :)

seeing the smile on your face even if he just loosely reciprocated the hug makes him smile ever so slightly

Mitsuri

she was actually the one searching for you for hugs!

she had just returned from a longgg mission expecting a warm welcome from her beloved in her home only to find the place empty :(

so she set off on her own private mission in an attempt to find you and retrieve her much needed cuddles

she searches high and low

and yet you were nowhere to be found

just as she had got all pouty and decided to call it a day she heard your voice drift down to while you were immersed in a conversation with shinobu

“Y/NNNNN!!” She screamed in delight tackling you to the ground and smothering you in kisses

“I missed you! I missed you!” she’d cry, on the verge of weeping in delight

after that shinobu politely excused herself from the display of affection and you could’ve sworn she was irritated by it...

Rengoku

just like mitsuri he’s the one to come find you and give you hugs! and prepared to have your spine broken in half i’m afraid he doesn’t know his own strength *sigh*

rengoku uses hugs as a form of reassurance to you, whether you’re in need of attention or are doubting your capabilities about something he believes hugs are the supreme way to express the support he has for you!

rengoku would most likely find you one day after a hard day of training, palms blistering from the countless swings of your blade

you’re tired and anyone from a distance could tell, shoulders sagging as a quiet sigh left your patted lips

for once in his life he’d actually be relatively quiet and pull you back into him, holding you until you want him to let go

Giyuu

oh my sweet sweet bby ily

hugs? physical touch? what’s that?

Giyuu will undoubtedly shy away from you if you try to touch him/hug him

please don’t take it personally hes just very confused as to why you’d want to hug him and very conflicted with your interest in him

he wants to hug you back he does! but he’s scared. scared of what? i’m not sure he even truly knows just scared

just be patient though and he’ll come around and once he does he’ll allow you to hug him and he’ll even hug back!

granted he’s stiff the first few times you hug and you honestly doubt if he’s had a hug ever

Shinobu

I don’t think many would suspect this because she just appears so kind but shinobu is not a hugger

she doesn’t like you hugging her and she doesn’t like to hug you

she might give you a little kiss on the forehead every now and then but no hugs!

but let’s for the sake of this hc she gives in

she’s had a long hard day and she just finds you by yourself, so she comes next to you and leans her head on your shoulder

wordlessly you’d hug her because you know if you asked she’d deny it!

Uzui

the biggest hugger of them all

he’s just so touchy feely he always wants to have a hand on you, whether it’s holding your hand or on your lower back he’s just always touching you

he likes to parade you around and let everyone know youre his

now uzui wouldn’t be a jealous person, he sees no need to be jealous when he knows he’s out of almost everyone’s league

but that doesn’t stop the fact he feels the green eyed monster creep inside him while some jerk tries to effortlessly woo you

he swoops in behind you and picks you up in a hug chuckling at your squeak “my love~ whos this?” hed coo with a sadistic smirk

omg i love him help

Obanai

unlike everyone else he loves to hug but he likes to do it in private away from prying eyes

he also gives off the aura to everyone that he despises hugs especially if you hug him in front of the pillars

he’ll stand there like a block, blushing profusely under his bandages but still making no move to reciprocate ur hug

now if you’re in the privacy of his or your home you can bet he’ll have you seated in his lap, back pressed against his chest as he hugs you

he wants you to know how much he loves you and how he believes you deserve the world! but he struggles to express it so private and intimate hugs are his speciality

Sanemi

surprisingly he really likes hugs

it feels like a reassurance to the fact you like him, and as much as he wants you to stop liking him and go and be safe away from the slayer corps he can’t help but selfishly indulge your hugs

most of the time you’ll have to ask for the hugs but every now and then he hugs you

it’ll be the dead of the night, he’s arrived home exhausted and youre still up, most likely relaxing in his living room

he just flops down in the seat beside you and pulls you into a hug

mumbling a “i’m glad your safe” before passing out

[rjshepofftheshits]

More luxu rambelings???

I just can't bring myself to let luxu go from canon BC I just love him sm. I know people want him to just be bad, no redemption arc but my middle name is redemption au so obviously I'm doing one for kingdom hearts

lol i say i love him then proceed to torture him for several paragraphs

I'm in the " people deserve to be able to redeem themselves " and " you are under no obligation to forgive someone for their actions" can and should coexist camp. ive applied this in this au to xemnas, ansem and even Young xehanort ( ill rambel about him later but tldr he doesnt go back to the past at the end of kh3 like hes meant to, a replica of him does purely because i wanted to keep him in the future but ill elaborate on the story reason for it later.)

Post kh4 luxu definitely falls closer to the " no forgiveness" end of that scale. AU Xemnas worked hard and eventually endeared himself to people, even kairi who he kinda got killed. ok maybe hes not totally forgiven, maybe he never will be but he's at least accepted by the majority. Ansem has his own little neich and a casual but friendly relationship with riku, provided he doesnt talk to much. YMX is acting like a kid, finally having the normal youth that was ripped away from him by MOM . Luxu on the other hand just sort of....gives up. He's not su#idal or anything he just sort of stops caring. the norts try to bring him round, show him if they can do it he can too but... He's broken beyond measure, he doesn't have the strength of will to try any more and loses a sense of self/ego. If someone tells him to do something, he does it, if they tell him to go , he leaves without protest. im not even sure hed defend himself if attacked, he probably just stand there and take it or maybe try to run? after going through this nightmare existance for the last 250+ years , for him to be the only forteller left ,for all the misery he caused only for it to mean nothing in the end is soul crushing. needless to say his sense of self-worth is lower than dirt. Luxu really seems to believe he deserves this dogs abuse for what hes done.

I cant imagine how lonely he was before kh4 but now after its all over and hes burned every bridge hes ever walked, hes completly desolate and renounced by everyone. worst part is, its kinda his own fault.

i think he tries to go back to radiant garden, if for no other reason than getting yelled at by people you know is preferable to being compltly abandoned and outcast. he feels a little comfort from being in the castle but the radient garden gang are none to happy to see him. Ienzo is pleasant if short, surprised to see him . the others however are not, ranging from dismissive, rude and cold attitudes from even and Aeleus right up to outright hostile and violent from Dilan. Dilan is normally pretty calm all things considered but when he sees Luxu standing before Lord Ansem, asking for forgiveness and to stay with them for a little its fucking on sight . Aeleus escorts him out before Dilan can REALLY hurt him but not before reminding him he isnt welcome there anymore. He accuses him of just apologising to assuage his guilt and not because he's actually sorry for all the shit he put them through, which isn't untrue but he really is sorry if you would just hear him out for 5 seconds . Understandably Aeleus shuts the door in his face. He might want to apologise but they dont want to or arent ready to hear it and he knows trying to force that on them would do more damage than good .Luxu still hangs around castle town for a few days licking his wounds in both a literal and figurative sense before deciding that the others are right to be angry and gives up on them.

(just imagine that simpsons clip with bart and lisa "you can actually pinpoint the second his heart rips in half")

whats even worse about all this is that i imagine post kh4, luxu has no keyblade. think about it, all the other fortellers have their own keyblades but luxu gets the master of masters old one. its already covered in scratches by the time he gets it so it cant be made from his heart like all other keyblades, it has to be MoM's. and since MoM is gone now in this au, that means his keyblade is gone too. so lets sumarize. luxu has : no friends, no home, no keyblade and no purpose. i imagine he's feeling pretty low

but because im horrible im going to make it worse.

You remember the subplot of maleficent looking for the book of proficies? well after all this she still hasnt found it but she does now know Xigbar is luxu and who luxu really is. So, understandably she decides to ask him a few friendly questions on the subject by which i mean string him up and slash him with vines until he tells her what she wants to hear.

Listen ive been talking consistantly about how broken and at a loss luxu is but if theres one thing to bring back his defiant streak its this bs from maleficent. homeboy has been holding his tongue for nearly 3 centuries, hes not going to break for a dramatic witch and her pet furry.

Frustrated with her lack of success maleficent takes him back to radient garden and threatens to chuck him off a cliff into an abyss or maybe the water treatment turbines. Luxu is still defiant, even weak and bleeding from her interrogation. He doesn't want to die particularly, he's never read the book of profocies but she doesn't know that. if it means fucking with maleficent then he's happy to go and nip her dumb plans in the bud.

now in my little headcanon its my oc shep whos looking out for him. she has a similar backstory, being burdened with a great task, much older than her physical appearance would suggest so she feels a little kinship with luxu, despite how he's hurt her but for the sake of keeping this somewhat canon compliant so other people can enjoy it lets say dilan takes her place.

Sorry to the luxu stans out there I'm just whumping this man for his life.

Just when it seems like she's about have Pete fling him over the edge something bonks Pete in the head and clatters to the floor. Luxu might be weak from injury or bloodloss but he's not stupid, he might have to crawl but he's getting away from these assholes, kicking Pete in the shins for good measure. Absolutely no prizes for guessing who it is that's come to rescue him.

The radiant garden gang cannot stand maleficent. Ok they gave up their hearts but SHE was the one to drag radiant garden into the darkness, squatting in their home like a frog for 10 years. Dilan is still mad as hell but he's also not just about to sit there and let that arrogant witch have her way. They can't beat her, not even with the 5 of them but thankfully she's not looking for a fight. She and Pete retreat for now, promising to come back for luxu and some answers. Even Even takes that shit personally and is ready to throw hands with her if she ever comes back. Luxu is just sort of sat in stunned silence even as he's ushered into the castle to have his wounds treated.

Things are a little bit tense but they can't exactly leave luxu to die from infection or exposure. Until someone makes a joke Like " damn even didn't know you had it in you" followed by some bravado from a usually fairly risk adversed Even, and a little alughter all round. Even Dilan has a small smile and for maybe just a moment everything feels normal again for luxu like maybe there's a little hope after all.

on that topic i think i will call this the golden au after Kintsugi, the art of repairing broken things with gold. It's not the same as before but the breaks are part of its beauty

There's a quote I'm fond of that is "

You don't need another Human Being to make your life complete, but let's be honest. Having your wounds kissed by someone who doesn't see them as disasters In your soul, but cracks to put their love into, Is the most calming thing In this World." And damn if luxu doesnt appreciate having a little love poured into his cuts...even if it is followed by stinging antiseptic and some admonishing words.

[theymetinargentina]

Sunflower / Harry Styles AU

Authors Note: Hello! This is an AU I thought of when I took a flight this past winter. I really hope y’all enjoy. As always comments and requests are always appreciated, they really help with motivation:) Feel free to interact in any way<3

Warnings- SMUT, daddy kink, choking, spanking (all that jazz)

Word Count- 2.8k 

Enjoy<3 

READ MY OTHER WORK HERE!

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“Alright passengers, I’m your flight attendant for today’s flight, my name is Jane and upfront our pilots are Harry and John, they’ll be making sure we arrive safely to our planned desination.” you smiled into the speaker, “We want to thank you for flying with us and hope you enjoy your flight, any concerns or questions feel free to flag me down and I will ensure all your needs are meet.” You spoke all this is your typical stewardess voice, a voice that took months to perfect and has slowly crept into your daily speaking habits.

Today’s flight was a short one, only about an hour and a half. While you normally preferred longer flights, as it meant you got to travel farther, today you were grateful for the time it meant you would get to spend with your boyfriend, the man who was in charge of making sure this plane arrived safely at its destination. You and Harry had been together for nearly four years, working together since the very beginning of your relationship, when it was barely that. Of course, you never intended to start a romance with one of your pilots, it sort of happened.

After you relaized you both would have to work together, panic settled in. Of course you really liked him, you spent nearly everyday with him since that first night. He couldn’t be further form bothered, only uttering, “Who cares….maybe we should tell them so they can see I got the one everyone drools over.” I knew it wouldn’t be that easy. I would be shamed for sleeping with one of the pilots, rumors would ensue over how you got such a sought after job.

However, one panic attack and a trip to HR later, everything felt at ease. Your job literally could not care less; and being with Harry, relaxed you. Who cares if people gossiped? It was no ones business. They could stare and talk all they wanted. They wouldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing you upset by it.

Pushing through your anxiety was worth it, for Harry anything really was.

********** 4 years earlier **********

“I’ll get another drink please.”

“On it,” the very patient bartender responded, you had been moping around the bar for nearly two hours. You came here often enough to know which bartenders were working what shift. This is why you choose to come at this specific time. Noah, a slightly older man, was your favorite. He never tried to pry things out of you. Just let you sit at the bar with a solemn look on your face. Occasionally listening when you felt you needed to rant. A presence next to you snapped you out of your daze. The bar was fairly empty but the slightly musky air was still floating over our heads.

“Can you make that two, please? Go ahead and put it on m’ tab.” I slowly turned ready to dismiss whoever was interrupting my form of self-care. It was the same tall, lean man who had been shooting glances my way all night. Getting fairly close to me when he came to retrieve drinks for his group. “I’m Harry, and you are….?” he said cheekily

“Jane,” I deadpanned, “That is very kind but I am more than cap-” I stopped when I fully looked at him and saw how beautiful he was. His eyes were a blend of forest greens, almost overshadowed by how dilated his pupils were. His pink, full lips were pulled into a  smirk, noticing I was staring.

“Baby, ‘m sure you’re more than capable,” he slyly said with a grin,  Who was this man? And to have the nerve to tease me after only just meeting.

“Look, I was just sitting here enjoying a drink and I really don’t need anyone to pay for it.”

“I’m just tryna warm you up, take it...please?”

“Warm me up for what? You seem so sure of yourself, when all youve done is give me your name and pay for a drink.” I retorted.

He grinned again and moved closer, “I see that look in your eye, I know you want this darlin’,” he slowly inched his hand up my arm, pausing when he got to my collarbone, waiting for me to say no. He carefully encased his hand around my neck, looking into my eyes to silently ask if this was okay, all I could answer with was a nod. He put his mouth to my ear and hotly whispered, “Come home with me.” The ache between my thighs only got more intense. “Your friends wouldn’t like that,” I whispered lowly.

“Fuck them,” he responded, his voice had significantly dropped and he sounded so sure. For some reason, I trusted him and felt myself slowly falling into his arms, both figuratively and metaphorically. I wrapped my significantly smaller hand around his wrist that was still holding my neck, “Take me then.” I whispered.

Our drinks long forgotten, he dragged me through the exit. When we stopped in front of a very expensive car I was surprised to think he would drive. “Wait,” I gasped, “you can’t drive, you were drinking.” I couldn’t hide the slight disappointment in my tone. He only chuckled, “I was the designated driver for tonight, had bloody virgin drinks all night.” He smiled. With that, we got into the car. Judging by his determined driving I assumed we would end up at his place. After a car ride filled with only the sound of our heavy breaths and quiet music, the air thick with tension, he parked. The house was fairly large for what I would assume was only one-man occupying it. Nonetheless, I followed him to the front door where he stopped and turned to me.

“I know I was pretty straight forward back there, but I’ll completely understand if you decide to change your mind.” Those words got me wetter than I already had been. I understood what he was saying though, and felt gratitude at his attempt to make me comfortable. However, I couldn’t help but let my eyes flicker down to the bulge in his trousers. I stepped up to him and rested my hands just below his belly button, “I want this,” I seductively whispered, “Tell me you want me.” He let out an animalistic growl and wove his hands around my backside, resting them on my hips.

“I want you so, so bad baby. ‘M about to come in my fuckin’ trousers. Got me so hard, you minx.” With that settled I pushed him towards the door hoping hed get the hint to open it and lead us inside.

Once inside the already thick tension erupted inside us. He pushed me up against the closed door and crashed his lips on mine. It was rough and hot as he poked his tongue at my sealed lips, I let him in, and our mouths explored each other. He groaned and motioned with his hands on my ass to jump. I happily leaped into his arms and continued our heated kissing. I felt him slowly begin walking upstairs, careful not to drop me. We broke apart to breathe, but I immediately began trail kisses along his jaw. When I reached a particularly sensitive point below his jaw, he moaned. Setting me gently on the floor he lifted the end of my dress, pulling it off me in one swift motion. His eyes widened at the sight beneath it.

“Completely bare, you filthy fuckin’ whore,” He said as he cupped my heat, smirking at the whimper I let out.

“Oh yeah? I bet you fuckin’ love it.” I replied breathlessly.

“I fuckin’ do. Daddy loves filthy whores .” His eyes had gotten darker and his voice had a dominating edge to it. I knew he wouldn’t go easy on me. And I was thankful. I decided if he wanted to be rough, so could I. He threw his head back and groaned when I dropped to my knees in front of him, “You look so damn beautiful on your knees.” He gripped my chin, dragging his thumb across my cheek and pulling my bottom lip down.

I whimpered at the throbbing between my legs, hoping to get some type of relief. His bulge had only gotten larger. I held lightly onto his thighs and gave rough kisses to his covered length.

He was stubbornly refusing to moan, I could hear his breath increase in an attempt to mask them. When I pulled both his trousers and boxers down; his thick, veiny length sprung up. The tip was bright red and leaked pre-cum.

I admittedly enveloped him in my mouth, his knees almost buckling at the sudden touch.

“Fuck baby…..shit, right there…...suck daddy’s cock.” He grasped my hair harshly, guiding my movements as I bobbed up and down his cock. When I hallowed my cheeks he gave an involuntary buck, his tip hitting the back of my throat causing me to gag. I pulled away quickly, gasping for breath with a line of spit connecting his swollen tip to my lips. I chuckled and continued to move my hand up and down, flicking my wrist slightly when I reached the head.

“You like that daddy,” I smiled at him. He finally gave me another beautiful moan that sent waves of pleasure to my throbbing core. “Mmmm,” was all he managed to respond before pulling me up to kiss me sternly.

“As much as I love that sweet mouth of yours, I wanna come inside you.”

He pushed me backward until my knees hit the bed. He climbed on top of me letting his hands roam toward my throbbing pussy, “please,” I whimpered; surprising me too. He chuckled sliding his hand over my slit. “Oh, fuck.” Gathering my wetness on the tip of his finger he slowly pushed one in.

I threw my head back and let out a moan. “All this for me, huh? Tell me who got you this wet?”

I could feel him threatening to pull his finger out, “Tell me who, and I’ll fuck you with my cock, the one you sucked so well.” He crashed his lips back on mine while hastily unbuttoning his dress shirt. “You want that? To have me fuck that tight cunt so hard you can’t walk tomorrow?”

“Please…...daddy.” My whimper nearly killed him, the slow drawl out of me calling him daddy, I could tell he was trying to tame himself for my sake. But I wanted him to completely ruin me.

“Don’t be patient, ruin me…..please?” I juted out my bottom lip, partly to be cute and because I knew he would imagine me when I was on my knees for him.

I pulled at his belt buckle, he ripped my hands away and stood up. At first I thought he had changed his mind or something was wrong but he had a devilish grin on his face and lowly spoke in his sex-hazed raspy voice, “Get on your hands and knees.”

For some reason I responded to his voice immediately, rolling over so I was propped up by my hands, spreading my legs, hissing at the cool air hitting my slick core. My ass was facing toward him so I could only hear him remove his belt and step out of his trousers.

I jumped slightly when I felt him run the cool leather over my ass, “Look at you, spreading your ass for a stranger….. Such a fucking whore.”

I whimpered slightly and pushed my hips back slightly, hoping he would understand what I wanted. “You want me to spank you?” he snickered, “you keep surprising me Jane.”

Hearing him say my name drew a moan out of me, only nodding in retort to his question.

The slight sting that came was minimal in comparison to th pleasure I felt at his belt hitting my ass roughly. He brought it down again, and again, and again; each time making me moan louder than the last time.

When he dropped the belt I sighed in relief, I would finally get some relief from the ache that was ever increasing between my legs.

“Are you on the pill or should I-?”

I cut him off, “I’m on the pill, you can go bare.” I didn’t want the barrier of plastic between us, I wanted to feel every vein and ridge I had felt in my mouth.

With my confirmation he pushed in harshly, both of us moaning in unison, “Oh fuck…” I breathed. He set a rough pace, gripping onto my hips and pounding into me from behind.

“Shit…..you’re tighter than I thought baby, “ he groaned. The air was filled with sex and sweat. The only sound being our repeated mantras, oh fuck, right there, or don’t stop, and the borderline pornographic noise of skin slapping together. Harry reached his hand in front of me began rubbing fast circles on my clit. I cried out and knew from the sudden stimulation I was gonna cum sooner than I though, “I...I’m gonna cum, Harry.” I managed to get out.

“Cum for me baby, show me what a good girl you are for daddy, how much you love his cock.” With that I clench around his length that was buried to the hilt in me, all but collapsing from the overwhelming pleasure. I could feel Harry twitch inside of me and felt thick ropes of his cum coat my walls. He pushed himself balls deep, swirling his hips while riding out his oragasm. “Ohhhh, fuck baby….” he groaned.

I gathered enough strength to put my hand underneath us and tug on his balls lightly. He jolted and growled in my ear.

“You felt so good in me,” I whispered, in between our heavy breathing.

He laughed and pulled out, hissing lightly at the lack of warmth around his cock.

“It was all you darlin’.” I unvoluntarily clenched my thighs at the pet name. We both laid on our backs and stared at the wall.

“You can spend the night if you’d like,” he looked over at me with a glint in his eyes. I couldn’t say no, even if I normally refused to even spend longer than 5 minutes after with a hook-up.

“Sure,” I smiled.

********* Present Day **********

“Once the seatbelt light has turned off, you can go ahead and gather your things, exiting the aircraft in a effective manner, on behalf of all of staff we would once again like to thank you for flying with us today and hope you had a lovely flight.”

Once everyone was off the plane I unlocked the cabin door and struted inside, silently punching myself for choosing to wear heals. I mean, they made my legs look great and not to mention how fucking good my ass looked in this skirt, I knew Harry was itching to take it all off me.

“How was your morning Jane?” John asked sweetly. John was one of our newer pilots,doing his first few years under the care of Harry, a man with years behind his belt. He was a sweetheart, always kind-too kind if you asked Harry- and he respected everyone he worked with, no matter their own job.

“Not too bad, fairly calm flight. How were yours?” I asked them both.

“Good, John was in the lead for most of it. Fast learner this one.” Harry grinned, knowing how embarrassed John was with compliments. Sure enough when I looked at him, his cheeks were flushed pink.

“That’s very kind, but it’s all your teaching,” He replied, “I’m off, gotta go get some rest. I hope you both have a wonderful day.” He shook Harry’s hand and gave me peck on the cheek.

My eyes followed him out the door and I turned to Harry once he was out of sight, met with an unimpressed look.

“Oh relax, he always gives me a kiss on the cheek.” I said with a roll of my eyes.

“I’m just saying,” he stood and started gathering his belongings, “he tries anything else and I’m not holding back.” Of course John would never try anything, for one he was married, and he respected both Harry and I too much to ever do anything like that. It was simply a joke, stemming from the fact that a pilot that flew with Harry had commented about me, not being aware I was tied to Harry.

“I’m yours, you know that,” I grabbed onto the front of his suit and peered into his eyes.

“Yeah, you’re all mine, too look at, kiss, and grab,” he smirked, cupping my ass harshly at. I squealed and tried to push him away.

“People will see,” I laughed lightly, freeing myself of his grasp.

“Let them, they’ll finally understand not to talk about you,” he breathed, “Especially when they see me and think, ‘that bloke will fuckin’ kill me for disresectin’ his girl’” he beamed at me, clearly proud with the scenario he made in his head.

“You are such a dork.” We both grabbed our bags and began walking out the plane and into the airport.

“Yeah, but you love me,” he smiled with that goofy grin that always makes me laugh. I merely shook my head in response and thought, yeah I really did.

*****************************************

LMK WHAT YOU THINK!!! :) 

[heyitsyn]

Keeping Up With Seijoh Ep. 3

a/n: uwuwuwuwu this is an au since yanno,,,, they didnt really make it to nationals :(

for more seijoh content, check this masterlist out!

GUESS WHOS BACK! BACK AGAIN!

anon:

may i request a scenario where seijoh made it to nationals and atsumu flirts with reader🥺

CAN WE BLS STOP THIS SANGWOO/ATSUMU TYPA BEAT BC I HONESTLY DONT VIBE W IT AND IT LOWKEY SCARES ME A LITTLE :o

OMLOMLOML YALL MADE IT TO NATIONALS

to be honest, it was,,, unexpected

you were sitting there, on the bench and gripping it in anticipation as seijoh and shiratorizawa were once again at a match point thanks to kyotani’s angry spike

going past 31, they were now 31-30 with seijoh in the lead

you could tell ushijima was getting antsy despite him covering it up and encouraging his team with a one-liner

your own team was buzzing with both nervousness and hope and iwaizumi was clenching and unclenching his fists in anticipation for the last toss

when the ball went up, oikawa’s eyes flashed, arms moving to set and the red-haired spiky guy was now watching which spiker he was going to give it to

however

he tossed it to no one

instead, oikawa’s hand flicked and he dumped the ball

it was like in slow motion and as shiratorizawa’s players scrambled to the floor, 

it was too late

the ball bounced on yellow polished floor before rolling away, completely unaware of what just happened and the lives it just changed

your mouth hung open, eyes trailing after the rubber ball like every single people in the gym

then it finally hit you

‘YOOOOOOOOSSSSHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!’

a scream from iwaizumi lit the candle of happiness and you didnt even care, running out to the court to jump on your captain, tears flowing down his face and his arms squeezing you tightly against his chest

‘AKLDFJJSHKFEOIOWIHFSKESIFOEWIHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!’

it was all a jumbled noise from everyone, your team, your coaches, the fans in the stand, and even from that orange boy and his team

the boys were hugging each other and crying and sobbing but oikawa’s hold remained on you, your own tears mixing with his sweat and coating his neck

‘you did it, oikawa-san. you did it’

you whimpered and he laughed and you felt him nodding

‘we’re going to tokyo. nationals!’

he choked out 

‘OIKAWA!’

the entire gym rumbled and you basked in the joy that the entire team radiated before having to stand with the coaches so they could shake hands with shiratorizawa for a good game

the locker room was loud, even much louder than the gym, with kindaichi’s loud sobbing and mattsuhana’s loud celebratory singing and iwaizumi’s joking shouts and eventually joining in

iwaizumi held his arms out for you and you giggled, crashing straight into him

you wiped his sweat filled face and he sat down on the bench, with you standing between his legs and his large hands gripping your waist

‘it’s not a dream, right?’

he whispered, eyes closed at the gentle feeling of you caressing his face

‘no, iwa-san. nationals is ours’

you soothed and he let out another loud laugh before pulling you close and burying his face in your stomach, probably crying again but this time, out of joy

for years theyve tried

and now, they succeeded

well,,, nationals should be a good thing, right?

hmm,,, maybe the honor of going

but the other players??

oh god

it was obvious when miyagi’s representative entered through those doors and eyes immediately went to their manager

it wasnt like you were the only female manager but you were an unfamiliar team so you have never been seen before

uwu youre so pretty like bow down to the goddess

oikawa’s hold on your hand was tight and his eyes flitted to everyone who looked at them, as if signalling them to back off and you were his

‘wahh, oikawa-san! kageyama told me that the best of the best are in here! he told me to look for fukurodani and nekoma!’

seijoh’s eye twitched at the mention of your new-found friend who you’ve been texting back and forth and him secretly teaching you everything about volleyball since your own team has been too busy preparing for nationals

they watched you try and stand in your tippy toes to find the apparent red and black jerseys and the black, white and gold jerseys

hmm,,,, it seems everyone had the same colors

‘ne, y/n-chan, you trust our team, don’t you? if anything, we’re part of the best of the best! you got the best setter right here!’

oikawa grinned but you nodded distractedly

‘come on, we got to go unpack and train’

iwaizumi nudged so you had to stop looking and you followed your captain, who still held your hand

but this is a typical fanfiction ladies and gents

as you were walking towards the locker room, there was a team that wore maroon colored jackets and were walking towards you

again, this is seijoh’s very first nationals so nobody really knew of them

they were more familiar of the white and purple jackets of shiratorizawa rather than the mint green and white of seijoh

however, oikawa seemed to know them

‘ah’

he whispered out, making you look up at him but his sights were straight towards them, a hard and cold look

‘ara? fresh blood?’

you cringed at the weird analogy and the guy with the black tips, who you infered to be the captain, elbowed him

 ‘excuse us’

he nodded in greeting and you noticed the guy with the bleach hair and you did a double-take, blinking rapidly

‘oh sangwoo?’

KSLDFJKDLFJSLDK KILL ME ALREADY

watari coughed, knowing exactly what you meant and it seems nobody else did except for the sangwoo look-a-like

and he raised an eyebrow in interest

‘hm? you called?’

another guy with gray hair, who looked exactly like him, rolled his eyes and he pulled him forward to walk after their captain

but he didnt let off yet

as he passed you by, he leaned close, breath fanning your ear

‘but its miya atsumu, baby girl’

ON GOD I WANT TO COMMIT WITH HOW GROSS HE IS LIKE BLS

kyo, who was behind you, growled at him and pulled you behind himself

‘she has name, fcker’

atsumu faked a surprise and backed away with his hands up

‘alrighty, then. didnt know you had a bodyguard, girlie. but maybe,, later on, we could get to know each other. alone’

YALL THIS IS GOING TO GET BETTER LATER I PROMISE HES NOT A WEIRDO PERVERT AS HE SOUNDS

osamu was annoyed and dragged him away, leaving you with your team, who were also extremely pissed off, especially oikawa

‘heh, the best setter in the country and yet he acts like a horny dog’

oikawa seethed, a pointy smile etched on his face

‘eh? best setter?’

you wondered but not given an answer because your captain would be damned if that atsumu decided to show up again

the locker room was actually the same back home

but kindaichi was sobbing again

‘t-this room! the best of the best! i cant-too much-’

you were busy hugging him and wiping his tears to notice the third years huddling over by the corner

oikawa was sitting on the bench while iwaizumi was changing into his practice jersey and the other two were flanked beside the captain

‘of course theyve got their eye on her now’

oikawa mumbled, fingers laced together and touching his lips

‘what can you expect? y/n-chan is an extremely pretty girl’

mattsun shrugged

‘but ugh, if i see that cheese face again,, i will fight’

iwa threatened, angrily slipping his arms through the holes

‘he reeked nasty! gross!’

makki agreed

‘so we’re agreeing to keep her in our sights right?’

they agreed to oikawa’s question and were going to stick by that word

but,,,,

what can you expect from star-struck players?

maybe its because theyve worked for so long to reach this point that the fact that they’re even standing in the tokyo stadium felt like a dream

‘guys, i need to go and fill the bottles really quick’

they mumbled distracted agreements so you sighed and lugged the crate of bottles

thank god there was a fountain nearby and as you were capping the last one, a familiar voice rang from behind you

‘oh? baby girl?’

you flinched at the weird nickname and thought that if you stayed quiet, hed leave

‘chibi? hey?’

he asked and made his way to your side, you closing your eyes and looking off to the side

atsumu thought you were interesting, not like every girl who would spread their legs at him and press up to him

the fact that you even AVOIDED looking at him was so foreign to him and your dismissive attitude made him so drawn to you

‘look, im sorry if i made ya uncomfortable earlier’

he,,, apologized?

but you didnt know who he was so you didnt know how out of character it was for him to even say ‘sorry’

'miya-san, hello’

you mumbled, eyes now opened but still focused on the bottle you gripped

he cracked a smile and was he,,,, nervous?

usually, hed say something dumb or sarcastic to cut the tension, but it was like he was even,,, careful,,, with what he wanted to say next

‘how-um-you like it ‘ere?’

if osamu was to see him now, he’d think his brother was kidnapped by those aliens oikawa swore up and down were real and was replaced by some opposite dimension version of atsumu

you gulped, mustering up a small smile before turning to look at him

‘miya-san, dont take offense to this, but just know i have a very loud voice and i can lift 80 pounds. and im the first one to ever beat iwa-san in an arm-wrestling match’

you puffed your cheeks in intimidation with your eyebrows furrowed but accidentally looking more cute rather than scary

were you,,, threatening him?

atsumu paused for a second to assess the situation and really understand the underlying meaning of your words

then he laughed

a real hearty laugh that made him go for a whole minute

‘-ahahaha!! whew, chibi-chan, ya’r a rare one’

wait i dont know how to type you’re with an accent !!!!!

he let out a few more chuckles then wiped a tear that fell

you just stood there 🧍‍♀️ 

‘you think its funny, miya-san? yahaba-kun and i also have a supernatural telepathy phenomenon-’

‘chibi-chan, i swear i wont hurt ya’

he promised but you backed your face away, an eyebrow raised

‘thats what they all say. if anything, youre scaring me more so i’ll-’

‘wait’

he held out a hand out but he quickly curled it, pulling it back to his chest

‘i,,,, listen i know how basic this may sound but,,,, youre the first to ever be like this to me’

you rolled your eyes

‘you think i havent heard that before? i have oikawa-san in my team, for god’s sake! ‘youre one of a kind’ ‘youre not like other girls’ yadda yadda’ try harder, miya-san’

you tilted your head with a crooked smile 

were you,,, playing hard to get?!

atsumu’s eyes shined, wanting to finally do the chasing rather than being chased

‘well, first off, chibi-chan, i need to know your name’

he leaned forward with his hands buried deep inside his maroon jacket pocket

‘my name? what good will that do? you already call me something else dont you? a name is meant to help people call each other and youve been calling me ‘chibi’ so what’s the point of giving you my birth name?’

even with a straight face, atsumu right away knew of your teasing as your eyes were shining brightly and had a hint of amusement in them

oh my god hes in love with you

he was in disbelief of your attitude towards him so he nodded slowly and laughed again

‘what can i do to earn that name then, chibi-chan?’

ehehehe kuroo,,,,, im in danger

you crossed your arms and pouted, leaning forward

‘ehh? why do you want it so bad? do you call others ‘chibi’ too?’

your expression of suspicion was so adorable that he couldnt stop himself from lunging forward and squeezing your cheeks between his fingers

‘so cute. youre my only chibi, chibi-chan’

you hummed, swiftly wiping his touch away from you

‘doubt it. ive only met you today and you’re already acting like this. what makes you think i think youre genuinely interested in me, miya-san?’

‘fate?’

this time, you chuckled, head leaning down

and as you looked back up, your heart stopped

by the distance, there was a familiar-looking haired boy with golden eyes and an also familiar black hair and steel blue eyes

oh dear

your emotions went sour but you saw the black and white-haired male laugh and the steel eyed male shake his head in disapproval but had the hint of the smallest smile

they,, were now happy

‘fate, you say’

you mumbled distractedly

‘fate instilled magnets in us so i just cant help but be drawn to ya’

atsumu grinned but you averted your eyes to look at him, a soft and genuinely happy look

‘would those magnets be strong enough to draw us together, even if we were in another life? if we were fated, would we meet again?’

you looked up at him, your eyes still glistening but this time, with the slightest bit of hope

atsumu sent you a confused glance but he still shrugged

‘i guess so, if i’m so drawn to you right now. maybe in our past life we were,,, together?’

he tested out, expecting you to roll your eyes and walk away but you laughed

‘well, i just witnessed it happening so maybe its possible?’

you wondered out loud

atsumu blinked again, getting more and more interested in you

‘chibi-chan?’

he asked you and you jumped slightly to look at him with a smile

‘say, miya-san, what if i told you that i remember my past life? and what would you say if i told you that you were in it?’

you grinned but atsumu scrunched his face together before smiling

‘hmm, i dont know what youre sayin but it proves my point!’

he exclaimed but you cocked an eyebrow, a sad smile resting on your lips

‘now what would you say if i told you that you were my nurse?’

a/n: omg i actually hate how this turned out like bls blast me on this

a/n pt 2: during my break, i actually re-read ‘in another life’ and i wrote this up after i finished it again and can i just say? I WILL NEVER SHUT UP ABOUT THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! CREDITS TO LITTLELUXRAY ON AO3

a/n pt 3: hewwo im back again and since no one replied with a link, i can,,, guess??,,, that the book is gone??? or taken down?? but anyways, i just really wanted to post something and tbh, stuff like this cant be helped but i really do hope that it’s gone and if its not, dkasjdfkslf again send me the link

[em0avacado]

They say

( Coco Cruz x Reader )

a/n : this is how i cope, don’t mind me, i’m just breaking my own heart.

trigger warnings : none i don’t think? except heart break, sadness. ends happy tho. i think. maybe.

word count : 2.4k

They say that, if you love something, let it go. If it comes back, it was meant to be, if it doesn’t? well you just couldn’t accept that. You’d poured every ounce of yourself into him, you’d told him all your fears, all your pet peeves, all your insecurities, because you trusted him. You’d accepted all his weird quirks, all the strange habits he had that you looked past, youd accepted him for who he was, as you do when you love someone as much as you loved him. You supported him, mentally and physically, from up close and from far away. You encouraged him, reminded him of little things he easily forgot, you told him every day how proud you were of him, how loved and appreciated he was.

He used to do the same for you, used to. But at some point, he began holding back, he stopped doing things he started doing to win you over. You used to have a list of pet names hed call you when he babied you, now it was just ‘baby’ if he was in a good mood, or [Y/N]. You noticed it as soon as it started, you noticed everything. You knew he was stressed so you didn’t want to push it, but you also know that “stressed” was a norm for Coco, so you couldn’t wrap your head around it entirely. He started coming home later, crashing on the couch in hopes of “not disturbing your sleep.” it sounded like an excuse to you, and it hurt. it really fucking hurt you.

At some point, you’d had enough of your boyfriend distancing himself like that, ignoring your feelings, ditching you when you needed him, you couldn’t live that way, you wouldn’t. So, when he came home, you’d waited up for him, sitting at the small kitchen table you both used to enjoy your breakfast on every Sunday, now it stood empty, with nothing but a stack of newspapers from the passing weeks piled on it. With a bit of liquid courage crashing against the rocks of ice as you swirled the brown liquid around in the cup, your eyes felt red with fire, and your cheeks were stained with few dried tears that rolled down your face as your mind came up with the worst possible results you could imagine, all to which, came true. With a jingle of his keys in the lock, you straightened your posture, looking at him.

“What’re you doing up?” he asked her, that same vacant look on his face.

“I wanted to talk”

“it can wait till morning.”

“it really can’t.” with that, she was met with utter annoyance, and an obnoxious scoff that made her blood boil.

“go on then.”

“you’ve distanced yourself, so hard. I barely see you. We don’t sleep in the same bed, I can’t remember the last time you touched me, hell, even looked at me like you used to. What’d I do?” that was your go to, blaming yourself. It’s how you dealt with the unexplained.

“Get off my ass, [Y/N].” He dismissed you, you watched as he pulled off his kutte, and settled into the couch. You kept your eyes on him, murder on your mind. God he irritated you, you wanted to take his neck between your hands and wring it. Maybe that’d breathe some sense into him, if you deprived him of oxygen a little. But you didn’t need another felony charge, you inhaled deeply, balling your fists, the sting of your nails digging into the palm of your hand bringing you back from picturing all the ways you’d brutally murder him, out of love, of course.

If you loved someone... you’d refrain from strangling them, you turned from the spot you stood, and headed into the bedroom. You did the breathing exercises your therapist had taught you, but they worked only slightly. You grabbed a duffel bag, and started shoving clothing into it, as much as you could, you pushed all the belongings you’d need the next few days, and zipped it up. Pulling on a hoodie, you tossed the bag over your shoulder, and headed out. You walked passed him without a word, when you went to grab your car keys, you did the only petty thing you’d let yourself, trying to be the better person, you hid every single key to everything you had, knowing how easily he lost keys, you’d help him, in your own favour, however.

You left, and you didn’t look back. You couldn’t. The mere thought of Coco made you tear up, and it didn’t help that every tiny thing made you think about the lost love that still caused your chest to feel like it was about to concave. This wasn’t natural, you hadn’t felt like this, you were the queen of bottling up emotions, and ignoring them so you didn’t feel the pain of anything. But as you lived and breathed, everything reminded you of him.

You were in the middle of a girls lunch date, it’d been weeks since your seen your girlfriends since you’ve been trying to isolate yourself trying to get over this man, in the midst of drinking mimosas on the balcony of one of those entirely too fancy restaurants, you were laughing at highschool memories of your best friend who would start fights in the halls because she was bored, it was then, when a roar of motorcycles sped past where you were sitting, and it threw you into a whirl wind of emotions.

“make sure you hold on tight, mamas. Wouldnt want you to fall off.” the smirk heard in Coco’s voice sent a chill down your spine, being too intimidated by any sort of physical contact, usually, you usually ease yourself into it, but with Coco? It was brash and sudden, he started the bike, and gave you maybe a millisecond to grab a hold on him.

A little squeal forced its way out of your mouth as you quickly grabbed onto him, gripping onto your own hands, clinging to him. You buried your face in his shoulder. You felt him chuckle, and wanted to knock him out right then and there, but perhaps that wasn’t the best idea. It took you a moment, but once you opened your eyes, and watched as buildings, cars, people, hills and piles of dirt passed you by, trees whipping by. You felt yourself calm, you felt at peace. The wind flipped through your locks of hair, his scent filling your senses.

“This isn’t that bad.” you heard yourself admit in a soft mumble, you shut your eyes and felt the wind attack your face, balancing your inner battles with yourself. You felt peace in Coco, he tamed your chaos, and you his. God, what you’d give to feel like this all the time, but you only felt it with him.

You felt your throat burn, your bottom lip lodged itself between your teeth, and you did your best to fight the rage that tinged your eyes with tears. Your friends saw this, noticing immediately, the emotion that washed over your face, paling your features and dimming a smile that brought them laughter that lasted for days. You’d always been the group clown, with the loudest laugh, the brightest smiles, you were the one they’d all turn to when they couldn’t hold themselves up. You were a force to be reckoned with, you fought their battles when they couldn’t even hold themselves up. You never failed to show up with booze and ice cream to heal broken hearts. You brought things that made you think of friends, you remembered the finest details and came through every time. You listened to the quietest ones, heard every story, laughed at the lamest jokes. Seeing you with tears streaming involuntarily down your face as you tried to hide it, wiping them as fast as they came, it broke their collective hearts. They looked at one another, an unspoken question “how do you skip to the part of the storm that sprouts the flowers when the rain stops?”

Your relationship with sleep was toxic, it came and went as it pleased, your eyes were sunken, it was three A.M. and you felt your thoughts running through your mind a million miles a minute. Your head in your hands as another memory floated to the surface.

Panic overwhelmed you, hearing something, or someone, rustling around the kitchen, you grabbed the gun you kept tucked under your mattress. You cocked it, and took the safety off, holding it out in front of you in a defensive position. You opened your creaking door, the noise working at your nerves as you creeped into the kitchen where the only thing that illuminated the dark room was the bulb from the old white fridge. You watched silently as the head ducked from inside the fridge, you found it peculiar, but all you saw was a figure in your home you didn’t know. Getting closer, you held the barrel of the gun to the head of the man that stood in your kitchen.

“Hands up, Foo. Before I blow your brains all over my backsplash.” You threatened, your voice tense, and you were met with laughter that was all too familiar. Furrowing your brows, you were still panicked, not thinking straight. You shifted the gun so the bullet that was about to fly, only ripped through his hair. The shot rang loud, causing Coco, who you didn’t know was Coco, to crash to the ground.

“Crazy bitch!” he shouted, you flicked on the light, still having the gun pointed at him. Your eyes widened quickly, the man on your floor was Coco, and now there was a bullet lodged into your ceiling. You could kiss your security deposit goodbye, fuck, and you just shot at Coco. You put the safety back on, and set it on your counter before going to help him. A few minutes passed before both of you sat in fits of laughter, him mocking your voice, your words.

Coco told you so many times that the night you nearly shot him in the head, was the night he fell for you entirely. Sure, he’d known you were the one way before that. That night, though, he knew he was in love with you. That night he swore he’d break past your barriers, he’d demolish how you saw yourself, he taught you to love you, he made you promises to show you love like no other, and to show you that you didn’t have to be afraid of either physical and emotional aspects of love. He did do exactly that, but then ripped it away from her. Leaving her heart with him, and her chest feeling heavy with nothing. Once again tears were brought to your eyes, you were thankful for his love, but without it? you wished you’d never had experienced it in the first place. Maybe you wouldn’t be hurting now.

You were brought out of your train of thought by the knocking on your door, furrowing your brows, you got up from your spot on the counter, where you were thinking of better times, you looked through the peephole and it felt like someone took a vacuum to your weak lungs. Coco. Struggling to breathe proper, you just intended on ignoring him, it was the first time in months youd seen him and you didn’t know if you could handle it. Your heart screamed at you to let him in, he looked beat up, tired, and one of his eyes was bandaged up, he looked broken. you wanted to embrace him, forget the distance, but your mind scolded you, reminding you of the progress youd made, bouncing back from the pain oh so slowly. This could set it all back. So you decided, you wouldn’t open the door. He’s a big boy. You silently turn on your heel, away from the door.

“I’m sorry.” you heard him rasp, and you froze in your spot, a deer caught in headlights. You couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. “I know you’re there, I know you’re awake and I know you know it’s me. You have your kitchen light on, so I saw you stand on your toes to look through the peephole because you’re too short.” you cursed his observant ways, how well he knew you, like he had quirk notes tattooed on the back of his hand and read them like a bible. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice when you left, that I was too deep in my own world to see how me fading away for my own selfish needs was hurting you. I’m sorry I made it seem like I didn’t care, that it hurt you, I’m sorry that I made promises and broke them. I started thinking about things I never knew I wanted until you marched your stubborn self in my life and gave me a taste of a love that changed me. It scared the fuck out of me.”

That familiar burn of emotion lit up your head, and singed your chest. You let his words sink in, you couldn’t speak, not yet. Squeezing shut your eyes, you turned back to the door, setting your hand on the knob. You felt the door shift, like he’d gotten up from leaning his head against the poorly tinted wood. He got it, you could feel him prepare to walk away. If you love something, let it go. But Coco came back. He came back. You unlocked it, and turned the knob. Looking at him through sore eyes. “Running when you’re scared isn’t an option for me.” you said, defeat obvious in your voice. He stopped, turned to you and closed in quick. You pushed his hands away. “You can’t - You can’t just show me, tell me, and hold it to me that i shouldn’t shut you out, and i should trust you, and i should turn to you before anyone and anything else only to turn around and do that to me. You can’t do that and come running back.” you practically yelled at him, your voice shaking and raw.

“I know, I know I’m sorry.” he said, his hands dropping to his sides when you reached forward and yanked him in with all your might. The gesture was aggressive, sure. But pure.

“i’m sorry too.” you muttered, embracing him tightly.

—

tag list :

@queenbeered

@mayans-sauce

[dirt-cup-draco]

Loxi X Reader - You’re Worth the Trouble (3/?)

Part 2

Previously:

“Believe me, I understand, but now isn’t the time to have a freak out,” There was some urgency to her voice and you realized that the air around you had become charged, red wisps floating across your skin in gentle waves that held back a storm. You shut your eyes tight and tried to ease the sense of danger and fear that had seeped into your mind.

You grabbed Jane’s arm and let her steady warmth relax you. Your head stopped reeling and the world didn’t seem to be crushing you anymore so you squared your shoulders and took a deep breath.

“Alright, sorry, I’m fine now, lets go” You spoke, not feeling fine at all.

You found yourself with your back flat on a table, several women surrounding you. The one who seemed in charge had a pinched face and a steely gaze. The only time it broke was when Jane went into some geeky detail about how she had a scientific understanding of the false clone of yourself that hovered over you. You didn’t understand at all and honestly you were sort of scared but apparently this was just a normal thing for them and they worked efficiently. Thor looked anxious to know what they were finding and you shared his impatience. 

���How much longer?” You said, the hard table making your spine ache and the stress making your temples pulse with threat of a headache. You really hadn’t been having a good two days and you just wanted them to declare that you were fine and nothing was actually wrong and you could go back home and just go about your life doing what you did. 

Your answer never came. Instead a commotion started as an older man with a hardened face and chilling eyes stormed in, guards flanking him as he made his grand entrance. His booming voice addressed Thor and everyone else had fallen quiet. Jane was staring and you certainly were too. The man was old but had no sense of frailty about him. He struck a certain amount of fear into you. Thor had Jane positioned slightly behind him yet the man came straight away to your side. “How dare you bring not one, but two humans into Asgard, and for what?”

The women- Asgardians? Nurses?- whatever, had the sense to disperse.You wish you could do the same.

He was most obviously displeased. “Father-” Thor began but was cut off. This was Thor’s dad? You’d never thought you’d see an Avenger look like a scolded child. You supposed that he was. Your heart was pounding uncomfortable as the god continued his path. However he paused and nodded his heads toward you, “Guards,” He said simply. Nothing more was needed. They knew what they needed to do. But you didn’t know what they needed to do. 

Your anxiety spiked and you could tell that your body was reacting because Jane’s mouth was open, like she wanted to warn them but you saw Thor’s hand come down, gripping her wrist and she stayed quiet. Why weren’t they going to help? Was Thor going to just let them take you? When one unfortunate guard reached out to tug at your wrist he was blown away in a shock of scarlet mist. 

Everything paused, even Thor’s old man.

The avenger found his voice then and you were glad. “There is something within her, something I have never seen before.” But Thor’s dad seemed like he’d seen a ghost. It was strange to think of this man as a dad. He was godly, untouchable, frightening. Yet he had children, he’d raised that hero. But you didn’t know his name so you supposed dad would suffice. “Sir” sounded wrong. 

“Mister-Thor’s dad-sir-” You stumbled. Oh yeah, that was elegant. “I just want whatever this is gone, and then I’ll be gone too, out of you and your son’s hair,” Maybe you could just convince him to help if not for your sake then for his own. 

In one swift moment his hand was clutching your wrist and he was studying you intently. You tried to keep your breathing even. You weren’t frightened, you weren’t freaking out, please don’t flip a god against a wall, then you’ll really be fucked. You reasoned. You had to stay calm. His calloused fingertips danced over your forearm and your veins seemed to glow with that same swirling energy that burst from you when you were in distress. The god looked nervous for the first time since hed entered the room. 

“Son, let me take care of this,” He muttered, eyes still attached to the skin of your arm even as the glow faded. 

“Father-” 

“She will be taken care of and then returned to her home,” 

Thor seemed pleased with that, yet apprehensive. If he had trouble trusting his own father, should you? He did say you’d be returned home. That’s all you wanted. Thor’s dad dismissed Jane and her godly boy toy, they would be dealt with later was the underlying tone behind his dismissal. For now, you were the one who had to be dealt with. You sat up on the cold table and you kept your eyes locked on the old guy. 

“Mister-” 

“I am no mister. I am Odin, the Allfather,” Fine. Odin then. “You don’t need to say anything human, follow me.” He ordered. 

You stood and trailed after him, his guards creating a barrier around you. To protect you from wandering eyes or to protect others from you, you wondered. 

Odin’s steps were sure and fast and you nearly had trouble keeping up. You weren’t quite as athletic as the nearly indestructible gods, but you’d try not to be too critical of yourself in comparison. It seemed like he went on and on for ages, down long, golden halls. Columns spiraled up the heavens. Everything was richly decorated. And them you came to a wide set of stairs that descended down, down, down. They were made of some sort of stone. Nearly like marble, but dark and less polished. The further you went down the less ornate everything became. 

You peaked behind you and you were nearly certain more guards had joined behind you. Odin hadn’t glanced back once. You followed however. This was your chance to be rid of this nightmare.You’d be home in no time, this would just be a few crazy days in your otherwise long existence. A heavy set of doors swung open and you were startled by the sudden roar of voices. You’d heard nothing but your own footsteps matched with the guards and Odin and now as the doors were pushed open there was a cacophony of hollers and curses. You were positive you heard some snarling. You paused but found a guard at your back, shoving you forward. 

Your eyes shifted wildly, it was like a wide hall that went for as far as you could see and more. To the left and right were what appeared to be glass rooms. They were empty, except for the strange people you could see in your immediate surroundings. Possibly more gods? Maybe just Asgardians. But they were separate from everything for a reason. These weren’t rooms. They were cells. And you were being steered right towards one. You dug your heels into the floor and your heart rate spiked. “W-wait! What about helping me!?” You questioned as you shoved against the guards. In a flash of red they were thrown from you and you were spinning around to face Odin. 

“Please! I don’t want to hurt anyone, just help me and I’ll be gone forever!” You begged. Another wave of guards approached and you shook your head, hands quivering as you took a step back. You didn’t want to hurt anybody. Yet in another burst those coming towards you were flung and with a sickening smack against a stone column you saw one guard fall in a crumpled heap. He didn’t move. You felt sick. Squeezing your eyes shut you tried to keep the tears at bay. 

“I don’t want to hurt anyone...” You muttered again as you shrank against the third wave of guards. Why couldn’t they just stop? The hollering of inmates grew louder at the commotion and they watched with sick amusement, jeering at the injured or dead guard. You didn’t know. You weren’t sure you could handle one of the outcomes. You wrapped your arms around you and when a hand connected with your arm, they weren’t blasted away. You were keeping it back. 

With slow, hesitant steps, you let them put you in the cell. A moment later, you were locked between for sturdy walls. You shrank into the corner, your knees brought up to your chest and your face buried in your hands as your shoulders shook with the sobs that wracked your body. You hadn’t meant to do anything wrong, none of this was your fault, why couldn’t they help you? 

Little did you know, a certain god was right next to you and a plan was forming in his mind. It was obvious to him the aether thrummed through your veins. You could be useful. Power like that couldn’t be left to rot in a cell after all, and humans didn’t last very long. Sooner rather then later you would both be free and he’d use you to exact his revenge and escape from Odin completely. 

---------

Tag List: 

@starofthedawn @kneel-before-queen-loki @jessiejunebug @themusingsofmany @hungoverhellhound @lokimostly

[morethanatitle]

From Feuding to Friends

In collaboration with @evanderofscots​ read below the cut for full thread.

Erika was starting to head out with Kara to take a stroll around the castle grounds. "Slow down, young one." She said as she pulled the little one to look at her. "We do not run indoors, especially when it is not our castle." Kara groaned. "Yes. I am ruining your fun..." she replied sarcastically. As they kept going, she saw Evander coming from one of the rooms leading into the hallway. "One moment, Kara..." she called out to the girl before turning to him with a curtsy. "Good afternoon, Chancellor. What are your plans this afternoon?"

Evander exited his office that afternon with a pounding headache. He had listened to one of his laird's lament for over an hour about how the termites were destroying all his lumber. How exactly that man expected the crown to help, Evander had no idea, but he was glad to be rid of him and leave the actual handling on Alasdair's desk. Evander heard the giggling of a young girl as he exited into the hallway, and looked up to see the Lady Erika approaching with her charge. He ground his teeth, still feeling the humiliation of their match through the yellowing bruises on his ribs. Still, when she courtsied before him, he was cordial. He bowed his hed as he greeted her, "Milady Erika. A pleasure to see you again." He told her, though the words were somewhat twisted by his displeasure with their history. "I've just finished my duties for the day and was hoping to clear my mind," preferrably with a bottle of whiskey.

“That’s not what you are supposed to call her. You have a deal,” Kara spoke up as she returned to Erika’s side. “Now you need to address him properly too.” Erika replied. Kara rolled her eyes before giving the man a curtsy and muttering. “Good morning, Chancellor.”The older woman patted her head to show approval before turning back to Evander. “Well, we are about to head outside to take a walk. You are more than welcome to join us if you like.” The little girl’s face lit up. “Please join us, Thor!” Erika cleated her throat and have the girl a look to behave. “I hope you can join us, sir.” Erika has been working hard to teach her proper decorum once they were in public.

Evander's eyes traveled down to the child and he grimaced. He had never been fond of children. They were messy and loud and often interrupted at the most inopportune times, and her pointing out Evander's supposed indiscretion only made him dislike her further. But he still turned back to Erika with a smile and said, "Good afternoon, my Commander," He gritted the title out between tight teeth. He was considering politely dismissing the offer, when the Child's declaration caught his attention. He creased his eyebrows and looked from the lass back up to her governess, one eyebrow raised, "Did she just call me a God?" He asked, arrogant mischief dancing in his eyes. He still wished to chase his headache away with whiskey, but he sighed and decided a few minutes outside might do him well, and she would at least provide a pretty sight. He sighed and nodded, "I suppose I can spare myself for a few minutes."

It was hard for Erika not to laugh when she could tell how hard this was for him. She chuckled and shook her head. “She says that you remind her of Thor based on your appearance.” She smiled at him accepting the invitation. “Well, we would be happy with your company.” Kara briskly walked enough, just slow enough to be considered walking but practically running. Erika rolled her eyes in defeat. She couldn’t scold her for following the rules. “So, how are the affairs of Scotland today?” She genuinely wanted to make peace with him. He did put up a good fight, and she was always interested to learn more about fellow army leaders.

Evander took up an even pace next to Erika, arms clasped behind his back. He was happy to see the child run ahead. At least they might be able to speak as adults after all. He snorted unceremoniously at her question. "I'd much rather handle affairs on a field of battle than behind that damned desk. I didna realize being Chancellor would be so... banal." He probably should not have voiced such opinions so openly, but somehow her connection to Svala made him feel as of he could take the same candor with her.

She chuckled at his response. “I can understand that. While I am happy for my position here, I do miss commanding an army. There are clearer strategies in place for tackling a battle than there is battling a stubborn child.” She smiled with him. “It was nice to duel again. It has been quite some time for me, and I appreciated the exercise. I must admit I thought several times throughout that you were going to win. You have been trained well for someone who is used to battling on land.”

Evander understood what she said well enough, although he didn't much see the difference as he had thought more than once that herding soldiers was not much different from handling children. He looked over at her and smiled playfully at her assessment of their duel. "I have trained extensively by land and by sea. I still hold that I might have won if I hadn't gotten so cocky." The one and only time he would ever admit such a thing.

“I knew that would be your weakness, so I kept that in my mind. You are not the first man that has held that weakness when battling me. Most men are cocky when they battle me because I am a woman. But you will never make that mistake with me or any woman.” She smiled playfully back at him. It was shocking to believe he admitted to his cockiness so easily.

He gritted his teeth at her response, but replied flirtatiously, "Well hard be it for any man to keep from getting cocky with a maiden like you pressed against him."

"I definitely saw that at the duel, but I think that cockiness when you had me against you was what caused me to deliver the final blow to your most precious area." She wanted to use the term similar to cockiness, but she didn't want to have someone overhear her.

Evander smirked at her. He could see the teasing glint in her eyes and knew she was not shy about having touched him there as so many other girls might be, and he laughed, "I'll admit I had hoped to have a more enjoyable contact between you and my... cockiness." He scoffed to himself. "But as per our bet, I suppose I shall never know."

She rolled her eyes but smiled to show she was okay with his teasing. "Perhaps, but I would still like to get to know you. It may not be a date, but I have a feeling we have much in common."

He decided he liked this girl. She was unapologetic and confident, and clearly skilled. As much as he wished to bed her, he wouldnt mind calling her his friend. Perhaps it was something about Norwegian woman that they had a knack for gaining his respect. "I am quite fond of your queen," he confided in her, "It would please me to have the same relationship with you as well."

She smiled and nodded. "Well,  you will find we are very similar and yet different at the same time." She chuckled as they left the castle and the sun appeared when they stepped outside. "Now, is there anything you want to know about me?"

Given permission to pry, Evander asked the one question that had played him since their duel. "Where on earth did you learn to fight m"

She had a feeling this was going to be his first inquiry. "When my father was a child, his younger sister was killed when walking home, and he vowed if he ever had daughters that he would teach them to defend themselves. My father started my training, and I enjoyed learning it more than my younger sisters. He helped me get more formal training when I joined the Norwegian army. The more I rose through the ranks, the more training I received."

He nodded thoughtfully at her answer. So she had received both formal and informal training. That offered some explanation to her unexpected skill as he told her, "I've found that informally trained fighters provide challenges of their own. I, myself, learned everything I know here, at the palace. And the rare opponent to have bested me has often been of an informal fighting style." He explained to her, referring mostly to the pirates and bandits he managed on the seas. "And you have the advantage of both."

She nodded as she processed where his training was from. "That is true. I have learned to use both in battle to get the upper hand. That last move I used to win was one of my father's tricks. He called it that 'SING' maneuver because you hit four areas: the solaplex, instep of the foot, the nose, and the groin."

Evander gave a signature Scotish snort to learn the specifics of the move she had used to disable him so quickly he hadn't been sure what had happened. It made much more sense now. "I will have to remember that," he told her, "Although I suspect I will have far less opportunity to use it."

Erika smiled. "It could always be used if you are ever grabbed from behind. I am sure you have  had many chances to use that during your times in the war." She kept the stroll at a decent pace. "How did you come to become a soldier?"

Evander shook his head chuckling, "I'm far too tall for most to attack from behind, lass. And on the occasion someone tries to jump on me, I do as you did to me and throw them over my shoulder." Evander looked out at the horizon, where the child had already run far into the fields ahead of them. That was fine with him. She was not his responsibility. Her next question hit him in a personal spot, despite being so simple. It wasn't something he had talked about much. "Alasdair asked me to, long ago, before he was King. I had lost my wife and he had lost his father. It was the right thing for us at the time."

"I have seen taller men," she said as she assessed before chuckling. Her eyebrow raised at his comment. "You have been married?" He didn't seem like to get married. "How long ago did she pass away?" she was wondering how long he had been a soldier.

Evander laughed at her disbelief and replied, "Much to my dismay. It was not a very amicable union," He explained. "Over 15 years ago now. It was as short lived as it was loathesome."

"An arranged marriage?" She had to admit she was grateful her father never pressured that sort of thing on her or any of her sisters. "You did not get along based on your tone."

Evander nodded as he walked, "My father made the match in hopes that it would bring peace between our Clans, but her father was not so happy when she died birthing my child. I'm afraid 15 years later, there is still not much peace to be found between them." He said all this very matter of factly, no emotion attached. After all, Evander had never cared for his wife or his child, and had fo uh and it a convenience to see them both gone. "I donna have much patience for Scotish women, and they have even less patience for me. In case you hadn't guessed, I'm not much a fan of being told what to do."

Erika gasped when he explained how his wife died. To lose a wife and a child all at once must be horrible, but he seemed almost glad that she was gone? He didn't seem to mourn the child either. "I am so sorry. My sister lost her child when she was halfway through her pregnancy, and she and her husband have never been the same." She nodded in agreement. "I have noticed that a few times."

Evander waved her off, "As I said, I never got along well with my wife. And I've never wanted children. I believe I gained far more than I lost joining Alasdair in the Navy. It was the right place for me."

She stayed silent and looked at Kara down the way. "Stay where I can see you!" she called out to the little one. She thought about Svala and all they went through. "What are your most memorable times in the Navy?"

Evander looked up, considering for a moment. His most memorable moments on the next had been primarily in Alasdair's bed, but he couldn't tell her that. So instead he said, "Perhaps the times we got to watch ships sink. It's a rather stirring sight. Particularly when you've set them aflame yourself."

She nodded and smiled, understanding what he meant. "The satisfying visual of your victory. I can understand this." Erika chuckled.

He smiled, quirking one brow at her. He had never thought about it quite like that, but he supposed it was right. It was always the taste of success which he savored most. Evander watched as the young girl ran up to a group of ladies sunning on the lawn, and asked Erika, "Should she be doing that?" He asked, displeased to see her causing a commotion among the guests of his palace.

She looked over and saw Kara trying to start a conversation with the women that were sitting over there. "They don't seem bothered by her," she replied. The women seemed to chuckle with the young girl. She let the girl have a moment before calling her back over. Kara said a goodbye and got distracted by some of the dogs relaxing. The dogs seemed happy for her attention as she stroked their fur. "Bless her heart. She doesn't have anyone her age to play with. It gets lonely for her sometimes." Her attention went back to her conversation with Evander. "What is your ideal type of battle? Unarmed? Sword? Something else?"

Evander grimaced at her lack of concern with the child's behavior before he let it go, returning his attention to Erika. He question caught him off guard as it wasn't something he had considered before. "I canna say," he responded, deeper hints of his Scottish accept revealing themselves as he grew comfortable with her, "It has always just been about the thrill of the fight."

She enjoyed talking about strategy with someone. She was curious about how he got to where he was and what his fighting experience was like. "Is there a particular fight or moment during the fight that you were the most proud of? Or a favorite strategy?"

A smirk came to Evander's face as he considered this. He was an expert strategist, it was one of the things Alasdair needed him for. Whenever the King was at a loss on how to manage their troops, Evander could waltz in and cut a clear path through the enemy without a thought. But his methods were sometimes less than convention. "Hmmm..." he started, "I once took back a port from and entire fleet of English with a single ship."

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Did you?” she replied curiously. “Did you use some sort of “attack the weak area strategy?” She was curious how other commanders would have approached it.

Evander scoffed, "The Englishmen's primary weakness is that they are a bunch of bumbling idiots who let their guard down way too easily." He smirked at the memory, it had certainly been one of his most daring attempts, "Myself and a group of men waited until nightfall under the new moon, then sailed out to the port in dinghies. Once we were close enough, each of us swam to a different English ship, climbed inside, and lit a fuse in their legs of gun powder before jumping out into the water. 23 ships, all up in flames at once." His expression quirked for a moment as he remembered the scar on his shoulder from being hit with burning debris during that attack, "The swim back was not quite as exhilarating."

Erika listened intently as he described the strategy. “That is clever. I am personally a fan of divide and conquer situations. I believe they allow you to do the most damage to your opponent without drawing attention to yourself too early. And you were smart to resort to destroying the ship rather than attacking man to man. That was a strong use of your limited resources.” She was doing this not only to boost his ego but also show her understanding of military strategy.

Evander smirked, his chest puffing out as he preened under her praise. "Why thank you, Milady," he said theatrically, throwing her a dashing smile.

Erika realized quickly he was too focused on himself to actively ask the same questions about her. This might explain the tensions with his wife if he didn’t make an effort towards learning about her or her days.

Evander noticed a silence fall between them, but didn't understand why. Had he said something wrong? He thought about it for a second and remembered the stupid title he'd sworn to in his bet. Thinking this was the reason, he spun around to face herz stopping them in their path, "Excuse me, I mean, thank you, my... commander." He still couldn't get it out without gritting his teeth, but he smiled through it.

She chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Kara isn’t here, and no one else around us for that matter. You don’t have to call me that when it is just us,” she replied. “I am surprised you made that effort to keep calling me that. You could have refused Kara earlier.”

EvanderBOTYesterday at 8:52 AM

Evander narrowed his eyes at her in mock incredulity, "But I am a man of honor, and honorable men always keep their bets." He bellowed. Although he did feel better to hear she did not actually expect that of him. The whole thing was preposterous.

“I might remind you of the bet every now and again to keep you humble,” she teased playfully. “Did it actually seem so inconceivable that Queen Svala would have a female commander. I know you know her well enough to know she is not the conventional sort.”

Evander sighed. He supposed he should pi uldnt have been surprised that Svala would do such a thing, but it was not as if going from Commander to Governess was a common path. "It would not be hard to believe if you looked like Svala, but you do not carry yourself like a shield maiden." He commented, looking over her clean dress, although plainer and more functional that what most ladies wore, it was not like the fur and leather and armors her Queen adorned.

"I would if you saw me in battle. That is also why I wore pants to the duel." She chuckled. "When I am at court, I tend to wear dresses and gowns since that is more appropriate attire for a lady, even if I am not a noblewoman." She didn't mind wearing skirts form time to time, if she were honest. "However, I feel like the female servants should wear pants. It would make their work easier."

Evander scoffed. The idea of gaggles of servant girls running around in pants was absurd. They would look ridiculous. "You have a rather peculiar view of the world," he told her.

"What is so peculiar about it? Why shouldn't the servants wear clothing that is best for their work?" She was curious what kind of reasoning he would try to give for this.

"They would look ridiculous!" He spat our without thought. "Women, running everywhere in pants?" The image was absurd. And he thought further to the sinful thoughts he'd had of her seeing the right pants she'd worn to their duel and followed it with, "And I canna imagine why a woman would wish to worming something so... exposing."

"Why would we look ridiculous? Just because it is not common. We women have legs, do we not?" She crossed her arms. "What is the reason you don't wear your finest suit to the battlefield? Because it would not be the best for battle, correct? You wear what is best for the job. With everything servants have to do, the freedom of pants would be much better than a skirt.

Evander scoffed incredulously, "And would the unwanted attention from men be so much better too? You put them at risk for a... frivolity!" He snapped.

Erika raised her eyebrow. "I would dare for you to call it a frivolity until you have tried to win a battle in both a skirt and pants. I assure you the difference is more substantial than you give it credit for."

"I never said you should wear skirts in battle. That would be I'll advised. But to wear pants in the palace! It would be completely out of place!"

"I was simply making a point. Clearly I couldn't make you understand." She looked at him. "Why would that be so ridiculous? Men wear pants in the palace. Why can't women?"

"Because they're men!" He snapped at her, eyes going wide. How could she be so dense? He was about to go off on a rant about the temptations of women when the child ran back up to them and screamed 'WHY ARE WE YELLING?" Evander rolled his eyes and groaned, turning away. Children really were a nuissance.

"You Scottish men wear kilts, which are simply very short skirts. If you can do that, why couldn't women wear pants?" She chuckled when Kara came in. "The chancellor just got too excited." Kara nodded. "Can I ask the servant to bring some treats for the dogs?" Erika agreed as the little girl ran to find the nearest servant.

Evander stammered for a minute. He had never given much thought to the similarities between Kilts and skirts. So instead he simply stated childishly, "Well we wear kilts into battle, you should be just as capable of working in your skirts."

"But if it is not ridiculous for men to wear some sort of skirt, why is it ridiculous for women to wear pants? And our skirts with four layers and a bustle while your kilt is shorter and one layer. Fighting in our skirts may not be the same thing." She opened her eyes as if gesturing to herself. "Did you think I looked ridiculous wearing pants the other day?"

Evander scoffed indignantly, crossing his arms and looking away as her no-nonsense expression noted into him until he finally snapped meeting her eyes darkly, "I thought you looked positively fuckable, and that is exactly my point."

How many times must he make her roll her eyes? She scoffed at his comment. "I don't think that is the fault of the woman. The man should learn to think with his brain and not his cock. The pants could also be looser to not be so tempting."

Evander narrowed his eyes at her, eager to be done with this topic, "Ye can dress yer women however you like in Norway. We'll keep ours covered here in Scotland." He turned away from her and began walking again at a slow pace for a few steps before turning back and looking at her, "Are you coming?"

She rolled her eyes once more, knowing he didn't have any way to argue what she just did. Erika nodded and checked where Kara was. As she picked up pace with Evander, Kara caught on and made sure to stay where Erika could still see her.

Evander couldn't  think of much to speak about after their little tiff, and so he resorted to his typical gambit of small talk, asking, "Is it your first time in Scotland, Milady?"

"I am enjoying it. The mountain landscapes are just breathtaking." She replied as she followed him. "I am happy that we never had any wars with Scotland, so I could enjoy the landscapes properly."

Evander smiled, preening with pride for his homeland. "She is a beauty," he said fondly. "Even in days of battles there is always beauty to be found here. It makes it easy to lay one's life on the line for their country."

"I find I can never enjoy the beauty of any country when I am at war. My focus is strictly on the battle." She smiled. "Is there a specific place here in Scotland I should try before we go back to Norway?"

He considered her question and said, "There are any number of beautiful sights throughout the highlands, but most of them would be a three day trip at least. Not much fit for a tourist's journey."

"That is a shame. Perhaps I will need to come back and stay in the highlands then." She looked back to see where Kara was, and she was happily exploring some of the different flowers.

"I would be happy to show you some time, and your queen and her children as well," He said. He would much rather be alone with the two women, even if he knew he would never bed them, than with their gaggle of girls, but he knew it was unlikely to get one without the other, and he would take any excuse to explore the Scottish countryside. The thought also reminded him that her Queen had no sons, and he furrowed his brow in thought, asking absently, "Does Svala mean for her eldest daughter to rule?" It was not as if it was unnatural, such a thing. After all, Svala was a queen in her own right as well, but he knew also that the struggles of such women to retain their power when it came time for ruler's to change were not easy to overcome.

Erika looked at him and smirked. "I shall bring it up to the Queen and see if that was something she would enjoy." His next question did not surprise her. He had already shown his narrow minded perspective on women to make it not seem shocking. "Of course she does. That is why the two of us have worked hard to train the girls on self defense and basic combat. They should know how to do so as possible queens."

Evander nodded earnestly, "I hope that she can continue the amicable relationship her mother has made with Scotland." He had never given much thought to the girl. She was too young to be on his radar as a conquest, and even if she weren't his respect for Svala would never have allowed him to give her a second glance. He turned his gaze back to his companion, "And what do you think you'll do? When that time comes?"

"I believe that is the plan as long as no problems have arisen between our two countries." At his question, she looked away. "I have to admit I am not sure. Erik and Svala want to have another child, so I thought I would have some time before I need to know that step."

Evander nodded thoughtfully, "It is well enough to know your place in the world. I must say, it is not a feeling I am particularly familiar with. Except, perhaps, by his Majesty's side." It was an unusually candid confession for him, but she seemed to draw that out easily in Evander.

"It seems that both of our positions rely on the favor of the current monarch," she replied with a smile. "It does seem that the king is greatly trusting of you, and I am sure you can have his son swayed to your side as well."

Evander nodded, though he had never figured he would be at risk even if the monarchy in Scotland did change. He supposed he would return to the Navy, though upon deeper thought, any events that might culminate in Alasdair's loss of power would most certain require Evander's death as well. At the mention of the young prince, Evander grimaced slightly. "If his mother's silver tongue does not poison him first." He bit out bitterly.

Her eyebrow raised at his talk about Alasdair's mother. She was not aware that the woman had such a reputation, but he spoke as if it was common knowledge. This woman was never a queen, so what power could she possibly have over this? "Does his mother actively disapprove of your title?"

Evander raised an eyebrow at the phrasing of her question, seeing that she may have misunderstood his meaning. So he said pointedly, "The Queen Valentina and I have not yet gotten stuck of each other, but she is borne of the Medici snakes, and I do not trust that she will not betray Alasdair as she did his brother. I do not know what type of Prince she will raise his son to be." He knew he should not speak such conspiracies so openly, but he did not mind if word of his suspicion made it back to the Queen. Perhaps it would keep her on notice.

Erika couldn't help but laugh. "Oh. I thought you were referring to Alasdair's mother," she replied with a chuckle. "Well, if we are to be quite honest, I am not a supporter of the queen," she whispered. "I have the same worries for Alasdair and anyone who supports her. She has not shown any evidence to be the most faithful of sorts."

Evander was relieved to know that she was on his side, despite already knowing that Svala agreed with his sentiments. "Only time will tell," he said absently. They had wandered near a marsh, and in the distance he could see Kara jumping from one stone to another across the muddy group. He raised an eyebrow and no sooner had he said ,"I donna think that is a wise activity, " than the child lost her footing on a loose rock and tumbling into the mud with a plop.

She sighed and nodded. Their conversation was becoming very interesting when he made the comment and she paid close attention to the terrain around the rocks. Before she could call out, the little girl fell in the mud. "Kara..." she immediately ran to her and helped her up. "Are you alright?" Kara had a big smile. "Yeah! Look! I could hide in the mud to scare my enemy in battle." Erika chuckled. "Yes you could, but aren't in battle. We will need to get you changed."

Evander grimaced and the giggling soiled child. She would leave a mess trekking through the castle to get changed. Another one of the many hassles with children. He watched Erika fuss over the girl with a complete lack of ability to relate to her concern. As a boy, he had fallen into the mud many times and never worried about getting hurt. He shifted uncomfortably at the scene and said, "I suppose I should leave you to take care of this."

Erika looked up to him with an apologetic look. "I am sorry. I do have to get her cleaned up before she goes and gives the Queen a hug..." she chuckled. "Thank you for joining us on your walk. I have enjoyed your company and conversation. Perhaps we could have more of these conversations in the future?"

The image she painted of the child soiling her mother's gown only made Evander more averse to the child, even though he knew it likely wouldn't bother Svala as much as most. He nodded graciously to his companion and said, "I would like that, Milady. When you are less... occupied."

"Thank you for your understanding, Chancellor," she replied with a smile. "Of course. Perhaps I can find a time once the king and queen spend time with the children to talk with you."

[flamehairedwritings]

Cups

Characters: Chief Jim Hopper x Female Reader

Words: 1,661

Rating: M, 16+ ONLY

A/N: Hello! Welcome to Christmas Drabbles 2018! For the next seven days I’ll be posting a drabble every dang day with a festive theme. I hope you enjoy and happy holidays!

Summary: Based on the prompt ‘Character A and Character B, sworn enemies, are chosen to prepare the company Christmas Party’, by @alloftheprompts

MASTERLIST

CHRISTMAS DRABBLES 2018 MASTERLIST

Please don’t copy, steal or repost my work; credit does not count.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Oh, here we go.

“Excuse me?”

Arching an eyebrow, you place your hands on your hips as you turn to the source of the gruff voice.

Chief Jim Hopper looks at you incredulously, his hands also on his hips.

“What. The hell. Are you doing?” he repeats in that slow way that immediately makes you feel like a complete idiot.

Clenching your jaw, you raise your eyebrows. “What does it look like, Chief Hopper?”

“It looks like you’re hangin’ tinsel on the holding cells.”

“Oh, so your eyes do work.”

You turn back to your task, a hint of a smug smirk on your lips as you hear him exhale a long breath. You were always able to push your luck because what could he do? Fire you? Yeah, well, maybe, but on what grounds? Stating the truth?

Just try me, Hopper.

You were always just that little step ahead, and he hated it.

“You can’t hang tinsel on the holding cells.”

“Do please tell me why.”

You can practically hear his teeth grinding together. “That’s where we keep suspected or confirmed criminals. We can’t have it lookin’... Jolly.”

“Yes, we can.” You finish sticking two ends of tinsel together and step down from the chair.

And you leave your response at that.

Turning away from him, you move back to the box of decorations, rummaging through it for the multi-coloured lights you’d seen and fallen in love with earlier. Finding them, horrendously tangled, you thrust them in Hopper’s direction, not looking at him.

“Do something useful and untangle these.”

You hear that deep, irritating sigh of exasperation as he takes them and sits down heavily in the nearest chair, getting to work as he mutters under his breath.

If only he’d known Flo had also picked you to decorate the Station. He would have stayed right the hell away. Maybe even gone across to another state. Taken a whole damn week off so he didn’t have to see or think about you.

What he wouldn’t give for one day of relief.

“Come on, honey, come and dance.”

Smiling widely at Flo, you shake your head, your bell earrings tinkling with the motion. “No, I’m all right, thank you, Flo. Maybe after I’ve had a few more of these.” You raise your cup a little. “Then I’ll be able to dance like, oh, what did our delightful chief call it last year... A newborn foal with roller-skates on.” 

Flo tuts as she moves closer to your side. “Like he can dance any better. Oh, no, I mean, you are a good dancer, honey,” she swiftly continues when you arch an eyebrow. “Oh, you know what I mean. Oh, if only you two would get along, you have so much in common.”

You snort, raising your cup to your lips. “Yeah, well, he should apologise.”

“Can’t you just let it go and shake hands?”

“I’m not that big a person, Flo.”

It had been three years since you’d started. Three years since The Incident. Since... Since he’d... What had he said again... Urgh, you can’t remember the specifics but it was something incredibly patronising and you hadn’t just let it slide and it had snowballed from there and here you are today.

Staring across the office floor at him.

Your skin prickling in that way it always does when he’s near.

Your heart beating just that little bit faster.

Unable to stop staring at him.

“‘nother beer, Chief?”

Hopper lifts his gaze from his nearly empty bottle to the one Powell holds out to him.

“Yeah, thanks.” Setting the one in his hand down on the table, he accepts the fresh bottle, raising it to his lips for a sip. 

Powell stands at his side, gazing out at the cramped dance floor you had somehow made the space for, desks and chairs shoved aside.

“Hey, didn’t she wear that dress at the Thanksgiving party?”

Calvin Powell looks to his chief, then to you, then back to Hopper. “Yeah, I think so. Why?”

“Dunno, just...” Hopper shrugs, lifting the bottle to his lips again as he mumbles, “Make an effort, you know.”

Powell raises his eyebrows. “Says the guy who wears the same shirt to everything.”

“Yeah, but, you know... Women,” Hop finishes weakly, wincing slightly in instant regret.

Powell’s eyebrows rise even higher. “’Women’?”

Apparently relenting to the fact he has to commit to the words that somehow came out of his mouth, Hopper clears his throat and shrugs. “Yeah... Women.”

His officer stares at him. “Uh-huh. Women... Mystifying, aren’t they?”

“Mhm.”

“Annoying when you can’t figure ‘em out, isn’t it?” He watches Hopper stare at you, watching you converse with Flo.

“Mhm.”

“And it’s even more annoying when you wanna go over there, ask ‘em if you can get ‘em a drink and apologise for being a damn idiot all the time.”

“Mhm─” Hopper’s gaze flicks over to him, his eyes narrowing.

Powell shrugs.

Clearing his throat, Hopper opens his mouth, to say what he has no God damn clue, when his eyes find their way back to you and you’re heading into his office.

“What in the hell...” he mutters, irritation swiftly rising within him as he sets his bottle down and strides after you, leaving Powell staring after him.

“How can we have run out of cups already? Hopper was meant─ Well, there we go actually, Hopper was in charge, that’s how we have.” Exhaling a short breath of frustration, you then smile at Flo and pat her shoulder gently as you pass. “I’m gonna go and get some cups.”

Placing your cup down on the nearest desk, you round it and push through the small swing door leading to Hopper’s office. Opening the door, you head inside, not bothering to turn the light on.

Hopper being Hopper, he’d vehemently opposed you using his office as a decoration base but you’d ignored him and stored boxes in there when he hadn’t been looking. Which had actually been easy to do because he never looked. Not that you minded. One bit.

Surveying the array of boxes, you try and remember which ones the cups were in.

Oh, God, where the hell has he put them...

“What are you doing?”

You exhale a low, exasperated sound, opening the nearest box and starting to search through it. “Getting more cups, officer.”

“Did you not put enough out?”

“The drinks table was your jurisdiction, Hopper, it’s the only thing you got excited about. The most excited I’ve ever seen you, actually, I didn’t know it was possible.”

“I get excited about things.”

“Yeah, like what?”

“Knowing you’re not gonna be in.”

You snort.

Wait, what.

You hadn’t been able to help it. You’d snorted. And not a dismissive snort. An amused snort.

And neither of you know what to do.

So you both ignore it.

Clearing your throat and mercifully finding the cups, you pull them out, turn and move to the door, pushing the wrapped stack into Hopper’s hands as you pass him.

You’re so close to the door, so close to freedom and pretending that never happened, when Callahan appears in the doorway.

“Oh, shiiit, look who’s under the mistletoe!” he grins, dangling the fake arrangement above your head.

“Oh, God, never, Phil,” you reply, incredibly grateful for the distraction and trying so hard not to smile.

“Nah, c’mon, you two.”

“‘You tw─”

In taking a step back from Callahan, you meet a hard wall behind you. 

Not a wall.

A Hopper.

The Chief clears his throat. “No, Callahan.”

“Come on, just a lil’ peck.”

“Calla─”

“Smooch, smooch.”

“Phil─“

He raises the mistletoe higher. “I won’t let you pass and I reckon I could take you both on. Get in to the Christmas spirit, guys, c’mon.”

“Christ, fine,” you mutter.

You tilt your head back and lift your chin to kiss Hopper on the cheek to just get this over with... but he’s turned his head, too. 

Your lips meet his.

Gently.

Gently? 

God, you thought kissing Hopper would be uncoordinated, he’s a complete mess of a man, frankly, but this is... This is nice, no, wait, anyway, you don’t spend a lot of time thinking about kissing him so─

Your lips are still against his. You haven’t pulled back. And neither has he.

He seems to realise it the same moment you do.

Drawing your head back so quickly you almost strain a muscle, you stare at him as he stares at you.

Even Callahan goes quiet for once.

For a few seconds.

“Okay, who’s next!” he calls out as he turns and zones in on the next victim.

You and Hopper are still looking at each other.

Your cheeks feel warm and his mouth is open, like he’s fighting for something to say.

He finds it. “Right.”

“Right.”

“Okay.”

You want to kiss him again.

Oh, God.

Clearing your throat, you nod and turn away, start walking, pause in the doorway, and then clear your throat again.

“Put the cups on the table, Hopper.”

“Yep.”

Lifting your gaze, you find him still looking at you.

Oh, God.

“Okay, so I’ll─”

“Actually...”

You blink, slightly startled that he’s interrupted your attempt to leave this situation he should no doubt be also finding awkward. 

There’s something in his eyes, though, something that you can’t look away from.

“... I remember tellin’ you you couldn’t put all this shit in here.” He drops the stack of cups into a box beside him as he moves towards you, and you don’t move.

Standing before you, looking down at you, he reaches behind you and pushes the door shut.

Suddenly, pressed against him, your head leaning back against the door, you can name what’s lingering in his gaze.

Lust.

And you know he can see it in your eyes, too.

“What are you going to do about it, Chief?”

“Somethin’ I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged or removed in my future work!

Tagged: @persephone-divine, @billyrussosbutt, @davidkharboursex, @jobean12-blog, @warmbeardsandredwine, @mademoiselle-black, @scrunchinn, @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash, @divadinag, @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan, @deepsouth, @neganslittlebae, @ashphoenix105, @alahmorah, @daughterofthebrowncoats, @letsby, @tbkc, @kiwiphroot, @ashmely, @sistasarah-sallysaidso, @unicornsandgliiitter, @lucifer-in-leather, @fearandloathing-in-missouri, @heyjudeinthesky, @sleepylunarwolf, @ambeazyyy, @countryfire22, @sithlordslut, @mondsafari, @thejealousorchard, @norcula, @earinafae, @beltzboys2015-blog, @jinxiejenna, @justsimplevicky, @hellosupernaturaldoctor, @ginasellsbooks, @dwarvenbunnyears, @vale0413, @mrslydiaholden, @kimberliinabox, @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly, @allylupin, @cant-shake-this-feeling-off, @the-bitch-gotham-deserves, @warriorqueen1991, @thesurestthing, @zuni21798,  @quietlovelovely, @maddieisaboredable, @windinyoursnail, @happy-hopper, @yedi16, @negansdirtygirl22, @slipperywhenwetsstuff, @crushed-pink-petals, @madkskillz

[squidproquoclarice]

Lil’ Arthur and Sadie meeting for the first time and how it went. Always wondered how these 2 would be like as kids.

I didn’t get to do as much with this as you may have liked, but given the timeline, Sadie’s only two years old by the time Arthur’s all the way out in California and Oregon, so she had to be younger than that for them to meet in Tumbleweed.  I doubt either of them clearly remember this brief encounter, but she’s a year and a half here, and Arthur is six.  So this ended up a bit more Arthur and Beatrice than Arthur and Sadie, but I hope you still enjoy a bit of BB!Sadithur all the same.  ;)~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~November 1869Tumbleweed, New AustinThey’d run from Rhondda, and now they were running from Armadillo too, one step ahead of the law again.  Apparently Lyle’s lofty ambitions had gotten him in the end again–a stagecoach, he said.  She wished he would stop with all of that.  So now here Beatrice was in Tumbleweed, provisioning for the trip to Oregon or maybe California or whatever point Lyle had decided would be their next stopover, because by this point she found it hard to believe it could be anything but temporary.  Her man was in the saloon, and she only hoped he wouldn’t lose too much money while he was there.  The cards rarely favored him anyway, and it tended to make him drink more than was good for him.  The shopkeeper’s boy helped her bring the supplies out: flour, sugar, oats, bacon, saleratus, so many things.  Stepping out on the porch, she saw Arthur where she had left him, though now he’d apparently made some friends, both human and canine.  Sitting on the worn boards, petting a black-and-white dog whose tail was wagging with delight, there were two younger children sitting there with him, all three children’s fair hair shining in the strangely bright November desert sun.  As if they could all have been hers–though she thought more often than not that given the life she lived, it was better that it was only Arthur for now, and perhaps for always.  The boy looked to be about three, the same age she’d lost David, and she still missed him so fiercely.  The little girl, maybe a year or so, and she’d always wanted a girl.“Gotta be nice,” Arthur insisted earnestly, watching the other two kids, the boy now happily stroking the dog between the ears.  “You pulled her tail, that ain’t nice.”  He glanced at the girl.  “How about you?  You wanna pet him?”She cocked her head, looking at him with a look of intense concentration.  “Want dog?”  She pointed to the dog, still basking in the attention.  “Yeah, you ‘want dog’ or no?”She scooted closer, patted the dog on the side, giggling at the feeling of the plush fur under her fingers, doing it again.  “Like dog!”“Me too.”  Arthur grinned at that, and it did Beatrice good to see him smiling like this.  There were times she thought perhaps it would have been better…no, never mind it.  She kept trying to believe Lyle only needed to find a place where things could be better.  Somewhere peaceful and with opportunities that could help quiet the anger in his heart.  Though in the deepest corners of her own heart, she still thanked God that Arthur seemed to take after his father very little.  A sweet child, he was, running to her with a fistful of flowers to try and make her smile, always drawing those little animals on any paper he could get his hands on.  Her grocery list today had, as usual, the small sketches of things in her careful hand–a flower for flour, and didn’t the sound of English help with that one, and help her remember the word?  She’d drawn bread back in Wales for it.  A sweet in its wrapper for sugar, a percolator for coffee, and so on.  Her doodles, lacking the ability to simply write the list, obviously been an invitation to Arthur for his own contribution, as it now had what she thought were charmingly lumpy deer and horses at the bottom edge.  He was mad for horses, and even back in Rhondda, from the moment he could walk, she’d had to save him from getting himself kicked more than once trying to be friends with horses who were too nervous for it.  He kept pleading for a horse.“Henry, Sadie, Pa’s done, let’s go!”  Lost in the sight as she’d been, she hadn’t noticed the woman standing near the edge of the porch, keeping an eye on the children.  It looked as though her third child was already on the way.  She nodded to Beatrice in acknowledgment.  “Is that your boy?”  She wasn’t from these parts either, as her accent wasn’t this strange New Austin twang either, the way Arthur sounded, and that would serve him better than a Welsh lilt in this country.      “Yes, that’s my Arthur.”  She couldn’t help a smile of pride coming over her.  

She got a smile and a nod of approval in return.  “Nice kid.  Maybe Henry will stop trying to pull them dogs’ tails now.  You from around here?”“No, passing through, I’m afraid.”  Too bad, at that.  Arthur probably could have used friends.  She certainly could.  But things would be better in California.  They would settle down.  She could send Arthur to school, to get that smart mind of his all that it needed.  Unlike her and Lyle, because back in the village, the closest school was twenty miles away.  Not many educated spinsters were of a mood to come work in Welsh coal valleys.  She’d get her citizenship next year, and Arthur with her, and as a true American, an educated man, he’d have any number of roads open to him.  He’d be able to read, write, vote–with all of that, and the kind heart she knew he had, he could be far more than his father before him, and wasn’t that the dream of America?The two younger kids pushed up off the boards, heading to their mother. She reached down to grab the hand of the little girl, who already looked prepared to rush off into all sorts of mischief.  “Say goodbye now.”Sadie, the little girl, waved enthusiastically at Arthur with her free hand, beaming at him.  “Bye-bye!”He waved back with a shy smile, watching her toddle off with her mother.  “Yeah, bye.”  Once they were gone, headed for a wagon of their own with the husband already waiting, watching him help his wife into the wagon with a wistfulness in her heart, she looked back at the porch.  “Come, Arthur, we’d best go find your da and be on our way.”He nodded at that, coming down the steps to her.  Hesitated a moment, looking back at the dog still sitting there, looking at him hopefully.  “That dog ain’t nobody’s, Momma, can we take her with us?”She sighed, hating to disappoint him.  And for just a brief moment that felt like biting into a rotten apple, she had the thought that perhaps it would be better to have a poor beast there when Lyle grew angry–better the dog than her or Arthur.  But she dismissed it, ashamed at herself.  No, what temper he had, he had his reasons, and it wasn’t fair he should go after a little boy, so she would take that on herself, but his anger with her had its explanations.  “We’ve a long journey ahead, love.  I don’t think that a dog would take to it so kindly.  And your da might not like it.”“Daddy don’t like much,” he said, features drawing into a scowl, kicking at a rock in the street.  “Whiskey, maybe.”  Yes, he was far too smart for his own good.She sighed, crouching down to meet his eyes, putting a hand on his shoulder.  He’d gotten her green-blue eyes, and his hair was too fair to be Lyle’s, though she expected it would darken from that bright gold it was right now, as hers had.  “Things have been hard, and that makes him angry.  He’s still your da, for all that.  But maybe when we get to California we’ll see about a dog for you.  Things will be better there, you’ll see.”He smiled at that, eyes lighting up again with happiness.  “What’s California gonna be like?”“Oh, I don’t know.  I’ve never seen it, mind.  People say it’s lovely land, though.  Gold there, too, so perhaps we’ll become prospectors!”  With him by her side, they walked towards the saloon.

[everydayanth]

The Liam Neeson Thing...

Okay guys, this is gonna get complex and personal right quick. But it’s been bothering me and I’m working on posting more without thinking about it for two weeks until nobody cares anymore.

So here goes.

Context matters. Context is important and it can be complicated, but it freakin’ matters. 

In my opinion, Liam Neeson’s flaw was that he thought a rapist would be the kind of person to also attack him. 

Here’s the thing guys, if you’ve never heard someone you love confess to you that they have been irrevocably hurt by a person, you need to take a step back for a minute. 

That moment, talking about it, it’s extremely vulnerable, so this is a bit hard for me, but in a moment of chaos and torment, a person you love and care deeply for is breaking apart in front of you and there isn’t a damned thing you can do about it. There’s not a damn thing you can do but hold them and cry with them and hurt for them and try to help and figure out the right thing to say. 

And when they’re tucked safe in bed and you’re researching what you can do for them or laying awake thinking about what you could possibly say, the amount of guilt and hurt and anger hits you in the chest, it fills you so wholly that you just need to find a way to let it out. It’s a dangerous rage, it’s immature and unhealthy and so so so painful. 

We don’t talk about emotions in America. We just don’t. So of course we want to put this emotion into a context we discuss, and idea we understand. 

But it’s not an -ism, it’s an emotion. 

If you don’t think when my sister told me about our cousin assaulting her that I didn’t wander around my ghetto ass neighborhood waiting for some big white guy to try to hurt me, well, you’d be wrong. Our brain makes patterns, my cousin didn’t live in our city, but I knew he was a big white guy with a shitty pencil beard, my brain classified that as a pattern. Every time I talked to a big white guy, I had to check myself, yeah. But when my brain registered a human who looked like my cousin, my heart rate ran up and I would will them to attack me. I wanted to fight because I didn’t know what else to do with all that pain, all that helpless emotion. But I could wander around places where someone was bound to get hurt anyway and invite the fight to me. 

Neeson was wandering around areas inviting a fight. INVITING, not instigating. It is a common reaction of revenge and feeling hurt, and we’re shoving this idea into something familiar - outrage, racism, etc., anything so we don’t have to actually talk about emotions. 

He was looking for a “black bastard,” poor choice of words, I agree, but he was hoping that guy, the one who hurt his friend, would challenge him, and it would just happen to be the same guy and he could get his anger out. It’s not healthy, but if they man who hurt his friend had been white and he’d wandered around lower class white neighborhoods inviting a fight, would it have been racism? 

This had an opportunity to be a conversation about what the fuck you do around a friend who confesses they were raped and hurt to you. After all the #MeToo (or in the midst of it), how do you be a friend to your loved ones who feel ready to confess to you? What do you do to manage that amount of disgust you feel at the world, that rage and hate and hurt and horror that there’s not a single damn thing you can do? 

This could have been a conversation about grief and friendship and growth and complex emotions. But we made it about the race of a rapist instead. 

That’s how much we don’t want to talk about feelings. 

We would focus on a man talking for the first time about the anger of helplessness in the face of a friend’s pain and come out in outrage. 

Here’s the reality guys, racism is forming a series of patterns based on skin color that aren’t true. They can be based off stereotypes or influenced by false representation in sensational news. Racism is NOT fighting your brain’s reality in order to form a more balanced understanding of the world. I was assaulted by a bunch of black kids at a playground when I was 14, it was terrifying and it’s a long and complex story but the short of it is very simple: I lived in a black neighborhood and this was not my only experience with black kids. I went to school with middle class black kids and I hung out with other black kids, this was NOT my only experience, and therefore, my brain was capable of nixing the pattern before it was created. Black kids weren’t dangerous, those kids were just assholes. 

Racism is if Neeson went to those places and started fights. I can’t know whether he did or not, but it’s if he went around and accused every black man of being a rapist, in his head or otherwise. I didn’t have a lot of experience with big white guys, so it took me much longer not to feel nervous around them than it did to write off my brain’s pattern about the black kids. Emotions and how our brains work are important details for us to know, and it’s the real reason diversity matters, it keeps our patterns in context. Neeson coming out of the situation horrified at himself shows growth of emotion, the dismissal of the pattern, recognizing that it is false without acting on it, understanding the power of agency is an illusion because he would never find that particular man. 

Comparing this to the policing issues isn’t the same, because of their place in society, their home culture society, and the results of their opinions. A police officer has a responsibility to the public to understand their emotions and their racial biases, an actor is responsible for displaying emotion. We can’t hold these people to the same accountability, that would be ridiculous, for a police officer, emotions need to be stable and understood and should involve a LOT more psychology training. For an actor... they entertain us with their emotions. They need to be self aware and reflective in order to project our experiences in stories. We still expect race car drivers to follow the speed limits and we understand that doctors have to call in sick sometimes, the world isn’t fair and occupation doesn’t dismiss personal biases or professional demeanor, but context matters. A doctor calling in sick after handling small pox in a lab requires observation and questions, an actor talking about rage and looking for a fight when he was younger and confessing horror at that version of himself while promoting a film about revenge kind of seems like part of the job, of doing the job well.  

And it’s not racist because it was not instigated by the color of skin as perceived by an individual to be less or more - he was inviting a fight with a black man on the word of his friend. That was wrong, and so was me doing it with large white men (also because I am not that large of a white woman, so that wasn’t going to end well for me), but he even said in a follow up interview that they could have killed him. The interviewer says she thinks of the innocent black man that could have been killed and Neeson responds “Or he could have killed me.” BUT HE WASN’T INSTIGATING FIGHTS, he was INVITING them! He wasn’t looking for an innocent man, he was waiting for someone to try to hurt him so he could release the extreme emotions. These are different. These are SO different. 

This conversation can go back to what it could have been. Race of the rapist aside, what do you do when a person you love confides in you that they have been hurt and scared and they are breaking apart in front of you? How do you process your emotions and heartbreak? What can you do or say? How can you feel like you’re helping? Is that selfish? Why do we need to feel like we’re helping? How do you manage your own trauma so you don’t loop theirs in with yours? How do you self reflect so that you stop your brain forming false patterns when you’re filled with so much hurt and pain? How do you not become a villain of the world, hating everyone for always telling you you are helpless? How do you find control in yourself when you’re imploding and be responsible and mature with emotions? How do you talk about it in a society that wants to be angry? How do you not hate them for focusing on your reaction to a rapist rather than being angry with an individual for being an asshole and RAPING your friend?

How do we return to a conversation about emotions and how, unchecked, they can lead to pain and anger and rage, and eventually, if we don’t have a moment of clarity and rationality, if we are not balanced in the world, they can become biases that develop into ignorance and racism? How do we focus on context so that we don’t become arrogant and disconnected, classists by nature because we interact with such a small and similar world? How do we connect and talk about the human experience when society turns away from us in favor of what is familiar? How do we have a logical discussion about emotion when we can’t even talk about meaning and intent? How do we accuse someone of racism when, had the rapist been white, the conversation might have focused on the context of emotion and pain and hurt and the process of healing - it was the outraged audience that pointed at the race as important, as the meaningful factor, how do we look at that hypocrisy and not feel utterly defeated?

How do we scream at the world that we need help, we all need help, without crucifying ourselves? I have no idea, this post is terrifying and I have no idea what to expect. Maybe nothing would be good? To return to not a single note or like or comment, to be unheard and dismissed and navigated around might be good because I want to talk about this reality but it. Is. Terrifying. 

And maybe it’s all a projection. Maybe I’m the racist and I want to defend someone I relate to. But it feels more right that we as a society don’t talk about emotions, we lock them up like these secret things we’re terrified other people will discover. I’m working on vulnerability lately, and what better place to talk about all the shit that’s ever happened to me than the freakin’ internet! I’m just a person and from my experiences, I think I understand what Neeson meant. But that could equally be a self-aggrandizing reality that doesn’t exist. Perhaps he’s just a racist, a professional actor with a successful career who took this exact moment to reveal his true colors, what a sneaky man! 

But more probably, the logic says, he’s a professional actor with a successful career who took this moment to discuss the emotions he’s had to reflect on and relive for the past year or so in order to play a role in a film that he hopes will entertain and reflect something of the human experience. He more probably took the moment to discuss a human experience and we did not listen because it’s more popular not to listen or because we could not relate or because we just want to be angry and sometimes pulling weeds is so exhausting we raze the whole garden instead. We did not talk about the moment he was horrified with himself because we don’t want to talk about growth or greys, we want the world to stabilize so we can see the bad guys clearly. 

We really ought to know by now that there are no clear bad guys. 

And we know Neeson likes to play in those lines. What is good? What is bad? They aren’t a duality, they are a false dichotomy, created by whatever world you grew up in, whatever experiences you had, whatever your society or culture told you, whatever education you discovered, and whatever philosophy you’ve come to believe. But in a moment of vulnerable confession, in all that grey reality, your friend tells you about a bad guy and they become singularly bad. They don’t exist beyond that. And that’s what is horrifying. That you stop seeing humanity as grey and suddenly it becomes good or bad, that’s the scary part about revenge and inviting fights, it encourages a black-and-white view of the world that says the rapist is ONLY bad and your friend is ONLY good. 

A bit ironic that, in trying to talk about that tunnel-vision-rage, Neeson found himself the target of it.

It’s raw, that anger. It’s part of all the hurt that has happened to you and then you couldn’t even protect your friend or family. Why did you go through all that pain if you couldn’t grow enough to save them? That guilt is a liar, you didn’t hurt them, the asshole did, and you need that to be true or else you were also the cause of all your own pain as well. So you look for the assholes because then at least you could be useful, you could protect them from one asshole by taking the hit. We need to talk about that kind of hurt, about sacrificing the self for revenge because you can’t find worth anymore. We need to talk about existential nihilism that hides inside outrage because you can’t find meaning anymore. We need to talk about emotions and how to talk about them so we can be better friends, better people, so when we look for guidance on talking to friends about their hurt, we find advice on how to not be overwhelmed by rage and guilt and disgust and anger and violence. 

That’s the conversation we could have had. That’s the world we could have started to create. But outrage culture is racist and racism gets attention and we all just want to be heard because we don’t know how to talk about our emotions. Interesting how it keeps going around like that.