#but like. ken and a few others need 2 or 3 changed which is way more work

[eyepatchdate]

started a smtv replay as my new 'main game' because im stuck in a grinding loop right before final boss of pq2.

[mageknight14]

Nagi and Beat: What it Means to be Empathetic

One thing I really appreciate about Nagi and Beat's characterizations and dynamic in NEO TWEWY is how the game portrays them as the two of the most emotionally mature and empathetic party members in the game and how they express that maturity in distinct but equally important ways.

Let's start this analysis off with Nagi. The game makes a point to show off multiple times that she’s in-tune when it comes to others’ emotions. Take the side quest with Buddy Rapids on Week 2 Day 4, for example.

When he flips out over not receiving a glass of water from Ken Doi and everyone is flabbergasted by how he reacted, Nagi actually takes the time to empathize with and explain why he would feel that way, that he probably felt unwelcome or deliberately provoked.  She literally absorbs emotions of others like a sponge, to her own detriment. She has this ability, knows it, knows how to work with it, but she can’t exactly turn it off. It gets to the point that an overwhelming burst of negative emotion from the people around her can cause her to emotionally break down, as we see from when she reacts to how the citizens are suffering from Shibuya Syndrome.

She analyses people and feels them whether she wants it or not, and due to being a combination of simultaneously open minded and very direct, those not true to themselves strike her as very wrong, in the wrong, or plain bizarre, as we can see from how coldly she treats Motoi and Fret at first. She’s true to herself, and to others, and someone not reciprocating on the same level is a bad thing in her book.

She suffers from hyperempathy and easily 'taps in' to what people are feeling, but she can struggle with finding the appropriate channel through which to express her feelings, such as her initial coldness towards Fret. Because of this, besides her infatuation with Sho, she’s fairly passive towards the group dynamic and synergy at first, instead to either gush about her beloved Lord Tomononami, EleStra, or both. This is especially notable when tensions start to rise between Rindo and Fret at the beginning of Week 2 and she can do nothing but weakly comment at the tense atmosphere in the air. 

However, as we get to see throughout the game, she begins to lighten up towards Fret and if you look closely at how she interacts with him, she progressively becomes less outright insulting towards him and more distant and hesitant once she puts together than he might actually have a reason to be putting up a front. By the time week 3 rolls around she's not insulting him at all, actually engaging in convos with him because she's realized that Fret is a genuinely good person who acts fake as a coping mechanism. Most of this realization starts showing up during week 2 because Fret gets stressed enough by the situation they're in to let the "mask" slip on multiple occasions— you can see that Nagi's expression changes when her portrait is present during these instances because she starts to put it together. 

While her arc isn’t as pronounced as the others, it’s still there nonetheless and revolves around her learning that she does not need to dismiss people right away and look past the surface, exploring in learning how to nuance so to speak. To cap it off, by the time week 3 comes around, she actively steps up to the plate more than once to help the others sort out their issues and integrates more into the group, truly embracing her role as the team mom, as seen as when she helps the other characters cope with their own issues on Week 3 Day 5. 

Now, let’s contrast this with Beat. While he isn’t as academically intelligent as Nagi, can be slow on the uptake, and not really keen on using his head, he still gets a few good hits in and has a cutting-the-knot way of problem solving that is as much a positive as a negative quality. 

In the first game, he calls out Konishi, who is presented as very smart, on her "unforeseen circumstances", and for someone mixing words a lot, he used those surprisingly straight and deliberately angers her so that she can focus on him while Neku snags Rhyme underneath her notice. He feels that the game is "whack" in NEO and is the first to call out Kubo against it and be suspicious of him while the others just found him sleazy and hatable ("might ask gramps some questions"), fairly quickly discerns that Fret and Rindo were at odds concerning the decision of trusting Kanon or not and that they needed to sort it out, and even recognizes Fret’s grief concerning Kanon herself and opts to let him have one last moment of hope and get some closure on the whole thing rather than just letting him bottle up these feelings in a negative manner forever.

I’d say that while Beat may not be academically smart, can often takes things at face value and can be considered dense at times, he is emotionally incredibly intelligent, even if not in the same way as Nagi: both are highly receptive to others’ moods and feelings, but while Nagi processes them with her heart and brains, Beat processes them with his heart and guts. 

Conversely, while Nagi suffers from her hyperempathy and can struggle with finding the appropriate channel through which to express her feelings, Beat intuitively 'taps in' to what people are feeling and also intuitively 'taps in' to what he can say to cheer people up or to motivate them to keep moving forward, as shown when he inspires the group to keep going forward even when things get dire at the beginning of Week 3 Day 4. 

Nagi stumbles butt-over-head into people’s psyches and while she has a good grasp on the information and psychology, being excellent at reading people, she doesn’t have the means of transforming that into a pleasant interaction if things are at odds. Beat, however meets people partway, at middle ground, or if he senses that he needs to, goes all the way to drag them out of their shell. He doesn’t embarrass himself with the unnecessary, as he doesn’t like to beat around the bush but also seems to think that people do have their own reasons of acting the way they do. To solve the problem, you address the problem, politeness and other fioritures can wait (which, again, is as much a positive quality as a negative one). Nagi has more tact with it because she can sense when things will go on the fritz, and because she’s more actively trying to get along with people than Beat. Even when giving the cold shoulder, she still has restrains (it takes a breaking point to call someone a "degenerate ape") and at worst ignores what bothers her, or makes it clear. Beat, on the other hand, would directly hop to 'I don’t like you, yo' and show scathing hostility, as he does with Sho and Coco who, in contrast to Kariya, Uzuki, and Shoka, are not at all apologetic when it comes to their actions and still antagonize him, in which he responds back in kind. You wrong him or his friends, you’re on his shit list, period.

This difference is seen most predominantly when the Wicked Twisters meet up with Sho again. Beat is immediately hostile thanks to his previous encounters with Sho in the first game and is ready to assume the worst of him, unaware of the shared history Rindo, Nagi, and Fret have with Sho at this point. And when Sho seemingly validates his concerns by attacking him and his friends, he's ready to write him off entirely. And it's not like Sho even cares about what Beat thinks of him to try and correct him afterwards.

Nagi, on the other hand, immediately notices that something is off about Sho compared to when he allied with the team in the first week and picks up that it may be Noise-related. And sure enough, she turns out to be correct. Sho had been absorbing Rindo's Dissonance Noise while he was away and when he absorbs a whole bunch at once, his mind gets overwhelmed and he goes berserk, attacking the Wicked Twisters in the process. Sure enough, when Neku quite literally beats some sense into him after he was already worn down by the team, Sho doesn't antagonize them at all whatsoever. and even gives them cryptic advice concerning the storm that's coming their way later.

To put it into perspective, Nagi is receiving all channels 100% of the time and as such had to define herself strongly against them to hear her own, affirming her personality and being very direct. It’s a radio always on that she can just tune out somewhat, but not turning it off. And if things get too overwhelming, she can take too much of that negative energy into herself and become severely affected herself if she doesn't have an immediate outlet. It's why she flips out at Rindo when she first meets as she was already unintentionally channeling the emotions of others and was being harassed by the DRS team beforehand and her missing the special EleStra pin was essentially the straw that broke the camel's back.

Beat, in contrast can hop from channel to channel and tune in on people, but only a few of his choosing at a time. Hence why he’s more receptive of a variety of different people, if they are amicable to him. He instantly hits it off with Fret, wholesomely accepts Nagi, even reaches out to Rindo who’s more unsure and shy (seen in the day after recruiting him as he’s the first to come up to him to see if things are okay), wholeheartedly accepts Shoka in the team and develops quite the protective streak for her among the rest (seen when he warns Susukichi about taking her after Ayano’s passing). He’s the big brother all the way. Compare this to how he reacted to Neku and Shiki in TWEWY, where he welcomes the latter at first after apologizing to the duo for mistaking them as Reapers but immediately takes a justified dislike to the former because Neku was kind of being a huge prick at the time. 

I think all of this is incredibly interesting in how the writers go about in portraying that nuances of what it means to be empathetic and emotionally mature and it just goes to show how much the TWEWY team cared about detailing the psychology and mindset of each character in a way that makes them all the more real.

And as a side note, I really appreciate Nagi and Beat’s dynamic. Rather than have them conflict as they could have so easily done (the athletic, skateboarding musclehead and the nerdy educated woman) the game has them genuinely enjoying one another's maturity and working to support the rest of the team, with Nagi even patiently translating anything she needed to of her dialogue for Beat's sake, as well as draw comparisons between the way Nagi treats Beat and Fret to foreshadow her issues with the latter and I think that's just neat.

[softxsuki]

hiya!! if theres still a space open, could i req a valentines letter?

the fandom id like is tokyo revengers, and could i please request mikey?? :p

fem! reader <33

a pet name id like is probably baby or something along those lines sncjefien

relationship status : best friends to lovers?? weve known each other since we were little and hes been in love for years, and is now confessing :0

could the tone of the letter be a love letter? i dont really mind to be honest!

genre : fluff <3

location: maybe he gave the letter when he came over? maybe hid it somewhere to be found later on? or maybe asked draken to deliver it, either way idm!

other info: i has many older brothers (rip my life-) and maybe they might have helped mikey with writing the letter?? but the sano + my family have been close ever since mikey + her met at the sano dojo, and were best friends all our life.

if you need any more content, id be happy to give!! tysm have a great day <33

Mikey’s Confession Letter To His Friend

Valentine’s Day Letter Event Pt.2 (CLOSED)

Pairing: Mikey x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None

Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers

Post-Type: Letter

Word Count: 810

Summary: in which Draken pushes Mikey to finally confess to you

[A/N: Helloooooo, Happy Valentine’s Day! Thank you so much for participating in my event. I hope you enjoy this <3]

“Hm, Draken? What are you doing here? Where’s Mikey?” You ask, confused at the tall man at your door instead of your best friend who was supposed to be coming over to your place.

“He’s being a wimp,” he sighs with a frown and hands you something, “Here, it’s from Mikey. He’ll be over soon, I’ll make sure of it.”

Then he walks away, waving you farewell over his shoulder without looking back.

Confused, you close your front door, but open the envelope Draken had given you. He said it was from Mikey, which makes you swallow. Was it a coincidence that today was Valentine’s Day and you were receiving a letter from your best friend who you had the biggest crush on? Or were you getting your hopes up for no reason? Only one way to find out…you begin to read the contents of the letter inside;

Dear Baby,

Okay wait, it’s weird to type that out already, when I haven’t even written anything yet…sorry, you’re probably shocked. That is what I want to call you–actually, it’s what I’ve been calling you in my head for the past few years now. You have no idea how hard it’s been to keep that petname to myself whenever we were together. It’s almost slipped from my mouth so many times.

Anyway, Happy Valentine's Day, Y/N! This is my confession letter to you :D. I think my feelings for you were there since we first met at the Sano Dojo. I didn’t know girls could be tough too, so it made my heart flutter to see you fight so well, since it was something I was also good at. Though we were still kids at the time, so I don’t think I fully understood what those feelings meant, so I just wanted to be your friend.

But now the title of only friend isn’t enough…I need more. I need you. Your my partner in crime, and that will never change, but I want to hold your hand as more than friends, and kiss your lips instead of your cheek. I want to have a future together as lovers. So, will you do me the honor of being my Valentine this year? Will you be mine, baby?

Love,

Manjiro Sano.

You didn’t even get a chance to react to Mikey’s confession before Draken’s booming voice could be heard outside your door.

“I swear if you don’t hurry up and knock on that door. Stop being a wimp, Mikey!” Draken yells at his friend.

“Shut up, Ken-chin, I’m doing it! I’m no wimp,” the man behind the letter to you whines. You can almost imagine the pout on his lips, which makes your heart flutter in your chest.

With a thumping heart, you open the front door and find yourself face to face with Mikey, who has his hand raised as if he’s about to knock on the door.

“Oh, b-, Y/N! Haha,” he laughs nervously, his hand flying to his pockets where he stuffs them, “Funny seeing you here.”

“You idiot, this is her house. Why wouldn’t she be here?” Draken sighs, slapping him upside the head, and shoves him inside, before Mikey could run off.

“It’s about time you both got this over and done with. How blind can you both be…” Draken grumbles before stomping off.

Mikey was nervous–that was something you’d never seen before. He was always full of confidence, never scared of anything…

Mikey glares at his taller friend as he walks away before facing you again.

“Heh, ignore him Y/N,” he laughs, closing the door behind him and making himself at home, as he throws himself on your couch, like always.

“You like me?” You ask him causiously, butterlfiers erupting in your stomach at saying the words outloud. You almost regret them as soon as you say them as Mikey visibly freezes on the couch.

It’s quiet for a few moments between you before he turns around with a small smile and pats the space beside him.

“C’mere,” he invites you over to his side.

Your feet seem to move without you realizing, and before you know it, you’re inches away from his face, now sitting beside him on the couch.

“I think love is a better way to put it. I love you, Y/N,” he confesses, which makes all the air from your lungs vanish.

His confidence is back, and it’s more attractive than ever. This man was going to give you a heart attack. You slap his arm playfully and clutch your chest.

“Mikey! You can’t just say that without any warning, I’m hanging by a string here, you’re gonna kill me!”

He laughs at your dramatics, a glint in his eyes as they meet yours.

“So? Whaddya say?”

“You’re so lucky I love you too, you idiot. Of course I’ll be your Valentine.”

REGULAR REQUESTS ARE OPEN

EVENT REQUESTS ARE CLOSED

Posted: 2/14/2023

[rebeccadumaurier]

December 2022 Reading Review

last monthly reading reflection of the year!!! woooo. see y'all in 2023 :)

books read this month

1. The Eyre Affair, Jasper Fforde

delightful sci-fi mystery by an author who loves literature and loves worldbuilding! made me remember why i love reading. the characterization’s a bit thin and the plot is just okay, but the uniqueness of the setting is marvelous

2. If I Had Your Face, Frances Cha

it was alright—interesting examination of beauty standards and misogyny in korean society, but trying to split it into four POVs / only vaguely intersecting storylines in <300 pages was a little too ambitious and i didn’t really get to know any particular character that well.

3. Ninefox Gambit, Yoon Ha Lee

worldbuilding is dense as hell and none of it is really explained, with little exposition. nonetheless, the two lead characters are delightful, their interactions are compelling, and if you’re willing to put up with not knowing what’s going on and enjoy military SFF with lots of queerness, this one might be for you! really liked this

4. Floating, Brilliant, Gone, Franny Choi

early franny choi not as compelling as later franny choi. it was just okay. couldn’t really remember any lines

5. Dear Senthuran: A Black Spirit Memoir, Akwaeke Emezi

an epistolary memoir! what a charming idea. talks a lot about queerness and emezi’s relationship with writing and divinity and love. the prose is lovely, without ever getting too bogged down in excesses

6. Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell, Susanna Clarke

i swear i rounded up my 4.5 stars just because it was such an accomplishment to finish (reading AND writing) this book. alternate history and the ugliness of war and horrible characters abound and aggressive britishness and faery lore as told in lavish footnotes and cozy fantasy, all in one (very long) book. what a marvel, what an innovation. (and now that i’ve read both this and the secret history, i HAVE to read babel since it’s a response to both)

7. Raven Stratagem, Yoon Ha Lee

the sequel to ninefox gambit! if you can get me to read the sequel to a book within only a few weeks of reading the first, that’s an accomplishment in itself, since i usually like to cool down a bit before leaping to sequels. even better than the first, since i had a slightly better handle on the worldbuilding and there’s a lot more focus on developing the cast as a whole—i got really attached to some of the non-lead characters in this one. DELIGHTFUL plot twist, comparable to harrow the ninth’s pov plot twist

8. Bestiary, K-Ming Chang

prose is beautiful and excessive and indulgent (complimentary) but it was hard for me to follow what was going on. i think i don’t have the background needed in oral storytelling tradition, mythology / folklore, etc to really understand its nuances—it felt more like a series of disconnected events than a narrative. nevertheless, it’s very queer and diasporic and poetic (in a good way), and i support writers being experimental and ambitious

9. Waste Tide, Chen Qiufan, trans. Ken Liu (favorite of the month)

oh!!! this is set in guangdong (where i went to high school) and the locality was rendered beautifully, even set in a more futuristic cyberpunk version. it made me miss home even as it illustrated home as the ugly place it is. also just very neat & interesting as an SF thriller about environmentalism and capitalism

10. The Sundial, Shirley Jackson

weird horrible people being weird and horrible to each other. not my preferred sort of atmosphere (i like more outright horror and this was more like a domestic dark comedy), but atmospheric nonetheless. enjoyed the ending and this has absolutely top-tier hilarious dialogue. as usual, jackson raises a lot of interesting questions she never answers, which i admire but don’t feel the need to ponder too much—i enjoy simply that she’s raised them, and the mystery of it all

(+ bonus: reread Gideon the Ninth this month in two sittings and wept my fucking eyes out)

[sillydreamer]

Has the nsfw alphabet for Lance been made?? If not, please do!! Thank you :3

NSFW Alphabet for Lance

Of course there are some nsfw alpabeth for Lance out there but we'll never have enough so here's my contribution, and thanks for your kind words anon 2, it really means a lot for me. Disfrútenlo amigos :D

PD: Please, extra appreciation because I almost got caught while making this lolololol

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He found sex like a way to escape from reality and don't focus about his past. That's why he's always asking what you need and even if you don't ask he'll give some massages to your muscles. He knows that he could be a little hard and makes sure that you are okay, usually serves as a giant pillow after you fall asleep but then he'll return to his questions that make him doubt if he's good or not.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Probably works in the forge which gave him a lot of strength in his arms, one of the things that he's most proud of. He can carry you, his hands are big and good for masturbation...he's just really proud of it.

About his partner he specially loves the lips which he could kiss all the day if he didn't had any responsibilities. Looses himself when you kiss his skin and leave some hickeys (i don't know if I write them right lol).

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Cums in average amount but is...I don't know...more liquid? Like it looks like is a lot but it's just a delusion It's a little bit cold and you can notice it. Also is sticky and very white, getting stuck in everything that it touches. (Okay I just realized that I described glue and I'm wheezing 💀)

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Loves to paint and breed you, bite your skin or cover your eyes. Really loves to see you begging him more but this is more because he needs to feel loved and needed. Anyway he gets really horny when you tie him and cover his eyes, please do it.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Probably had a few relationships but none of them was long, still they gave him knowledge about what to do and how to please others and himself.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Against the wall, to carry you and squeeze your ass and being able to see your face but he doesn't mind trying anything. What's important is that you don't push yourself too much and end up hurt.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Doesn't make a lot of jokes on purpose but likes to combine dirty talk with jokes. In case that you're goofy he wouldn't mind but sometimes Lance's mind cannot think in a response, unless it's dirt talk; in that case he'll follow you and smile as a response.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

(Well I couldn't see a hint of hair in episode 7 but let's ignore that because I refuse believing that the boys are like Ken dolls). He didn't groom down there a lot, maybe a few times just to feel good. When you started to have sex he'll start to take more care but doesn't cut it a lot because he feels weird but if you ask him he'll just to it. It's silver like his hair but it doesn't grow that long.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Wants to enjoy the moment and at first he'll be slow but things change and he ends up being hard but he compensates it in the after care. Other times Lance just admits that he want a fuck but in both ways the after care shows his soft side.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

It's a very busy man and just does it when he's really stressed and has free time but prefers to tell you that he needs some help (still he's a little bit shy doing the proposal)

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He isn't aware of any but of course Lance has a few; mostly related to his size and strength.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Doesn't like to expose himself a lot, prefers in the bedroom but if he's feeling risky be prepared to do it in the forge.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Your voice is literally everything that he needs. Even if you're just saying a random thing Lance will leave everything just to stare at your face. Also when your bodies are touching in a hug his hands covers your body.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He needs to have your permission to do anything and asks first even if it's just for a simple thing. The second thing is that he doesn't like to expose both of you during intimate moments so if you are thinking about semi-public sex let me tell you that he's going to say no (however if Lance sees that there isn't a big risk he'll might be interested in a quickie).

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Prefers giving and he's good at it. He's an ice dragon and probably all his body's temperature feels low and uses this to tease you, but don't forget that Lance is still learning and can be afraid to use this on you.

But if he's the one that's receiving oh god. Lance's cheeks blushes and tries to cover his moans with his hands. Probably fuck face's a little bit but without being conscious about it.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

As I mentioned in I he's slow at first, keeping you in the edge for a few minutes but then changes to a complete destroyer (then apologizes lol).

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Prefers to take his time but if you convince him he'll do it, but before that Lance needs to make sure that nobody is nearby.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Wants to take risks but doesn't know how. Like- this man really wants to try new things but his brain can't really find out how, he needs someone to teach him and show him that it's okay to have that type of desires. The war really changed his mind and it's afraid to show any type of emotion (damm I need to make things dark).

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He really exercises himself and this helps with the stamina; he can last up to four or five rounds but if he needs it Lance can have more "access" to his energy using a few of his dragon powers (he doesn't transform thought). Anyway he knows that lasting five round isn't really a normal thing and makes you take rests between rounds, always asking if you are done or not.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

When he was young and naive (dramatic) one of his partners gave him one but he didn't know how to use it so he just haves it for you. In any case Lance is very curious about them but is very shy to ask if he can use it.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

During the first times he was a little bit shy but he gained experience and now he's a teaser by heart. All because he loves to see your teary face.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not really loud, the trick here is that his voice is more...low pitched and it gives that impression. Most of the sound that he does are growls and heavy breathing but may moan louder if you hit his soft spot.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Like Valkyon he used to have some night stands but left them when he decided to destroy Eldarya but sometimes he used to sleep with a few women (and one or two men) of his army (just for fun and both parts were 100% agree with this).

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Okay so he's officially an average but this is a headcanon and I'm gonna say that it's a little bit longer and curved to the right. You can't see veins but let me tell you that the tip is a little bit pink.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Normal, yet sometimes he just gets in need and is searching for your attention in most of the ways possible.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It takes a while for Lance to sleep, first of all he makes sure that his partner is comfortable. Prefers to hug you and hear your breathing, this calms him down enough to put him to sleep.

[sorry-i-ship-drarry]

16. Sinful dreams

Prompt used- massaging them | WARNING- implied smut | shout-out to everyone reblogging and commenting on these. Ps. Sorry for no update yesterday ( it's hard to keep up )

" well hello the man who thinks it's his house" harry gave Draco a grin who had presumably came to his house while he was out shopping using the spare key Harry had given him.

" I needed a change of space. Did you bring my biscuits ?" He asked

" I would go shopping and not bring your biscuits, you really are Dim witted " Harry placed his palms on the kitchen top before he took out Draco's biscuits and threw it at Draco in the living room who immediately caught before it would've fallen to the ground and get cracked up.

" what are you even working on ?" Harry asked as he started putting things into the refrigerator.

" just grading some papers " Draco replied opening the packet of biscuit and eating it slowly " still as delicious as ever " he groaned. Chuckling Harry turned to see Draco eating his biscuits, he seemed like Someone who had just been given his Christmas gift.

" I thought you already did them ?" Harry asked

" well turned out the question I had basically wronged of every student was infact right, I was the one who made a careless mistake in the question paper, so now I have to recheck every paper and grade them over again " he sighed as he simultaneously went back to grading his papers

" sometimes you work harder than I do " Harry gave a light laugh as he got his juice box and went into the living room to sit with Draco.

" well being a professor is hard. You should see the answers sometimes. They're worse than yours " Draco groaned changing the answer sheet.

" hey, I wasn't that bad. I just didn't like potions because of snape " Harry defended himself as he watched Draco grade the papers. He randomly picked one of the Answer sheet of a kid named ken wood, chuckling almost immediately after reading the answer

" I remember I wrote the exact same answer once and it turned out to be surprisingly right which I see you've crossed at "

" what?" Draco huffed as he took the sheet from Harry, Peering over the answer and as if upon realising his mistake, sighing he corrected the answer and grade all over.

" you do work hard " Harry's Voice echoed as he went into th bedroom.

" you've got no idea Harry, if only one day you accept that job at school, you'd understand " Draco voice echoed as well from where Harry heard it.

He soon came back in the living room carrying his guitar and sitting down next to Draco's feet, tuning it instantly.

" no joke honestly, I am thinking over it. I do enjoy working in the Muggle world but sometimes i just feel like it's better being really who you are and being with people of your sort " Harry explained

" well Ms. McGonagall would be very glad to have you " he replied.

" you're gonna play ?" Draco asked as he finally noticed Harry had set his hands to play

" you don't want me to ?" Harry asked looking up at Draco

" yes please, I will kill myself if I have to do more of these with no source of enjoyment " Draco rolled his eyes..

Smiling Harry started to play lightly. When after the war Harry set out on his path to discover himself and trying out new things, he had instantly fallen in love with playing guitar. It took a great deal of practice but Harry had successfully learned how to play it last. Often he plays for his friends if they ever go out on a trip or if they're stressed out and he had played on a bunch of their bonfire nights. For Draco it had always worked out pretty greatly. He loved listening to harry play, he played it to so whimsically that he mostly found himself lost in the tunes and just hearing Harry hum along as he played. It was soothing and mildly attractive to Draco, not that he's ever going to tell Harry that but he liked to imagine that he already knew and that was why he used to play it more attractively each time.

The thing was Harry never really realised if he ever started to sing lightly along playing or humming, Draco never pointed. So when Harry was lightly humming and singing to the song, Draco found it much easier to grade his paper more fastly and without wanting to kill himself however in between he had groaned because of craning his neck downward and harry immediately took notice of it.

" what happened ?" He asked concerned putting away his guitar.

" nothing, just my neck hurts now from all the looking down just like I have to look down on you " even in slight he hadn't missed the opportunity to tease Harry who flipped him off.

" here, let me massage " Harry got up from the floor and went behind to sit over the edge of the couch, his feets alongside Draco's body.

" you sure, you know- ooh " he immediately moaned in relief as Harry started massaging the bottom of his neck.

" better ?" Harry asked

" much better " Draco mumbled as he closed his eyes and let his head fall back a little enjoying Harry's hands over his neck.

" you overwork yourself Draco " Harry complained knowing Draco, he probably had time but still tries to do everything beforehand

Draco hummed in response. It soon became ritual between them for Harry to give him massages whenever he was tired or very much worked out and harry happily complied. It was only during one Massage when everything became weird, Harry was simply giving Draco a massage when he had accidentally moaned loudly when Harry has massaged a specific spot on his back. Assuming that none of them heard it, Harry resumed giving him a massage when he elicited the same moan out of Draco and suddenly it became too much for Harry to go on and had to immediately stop Because of the sudden sensation going down south.

" Why'd you stop ?" Draco asked embarrassed

" oh nothing, I - I just need to use the restroom " Harry said as he not so subtly got up from behind Draco and ran for the bathroom to cool down but nothing really worked. Hearing Draco's moan was like a cardinal sin and harry had happily became a sinner. His voice rang over and over in his head which only troubled everything. All he could think about was how beautiful his moan had sounded and how in many more sinning ways he could elicit the same moan. Inappropriately thinking about Draco only worsened everything because the images he had thought about Before of Draco now had a sound and it only turned him on more and more.

Harry was leaned against the kitchen sink waiting for his hard on to go away when there was a knock on the door. He must've been in there for longer than Draco could've anticipated because now he was concerned about Harry.

" is everything alright, Harry?"

" yeah, ev- everything's fine " everything was not absolutely fine, how voice sounded much more strained and he was fighting urge to shove his hands down his pants for relief

" you don't sound so fine, open the door Harry " Draco commanded from the other side of the door

" you go, I'll be out in a few" Harry leaned furthermore onto the sink, almost palming over his jeans

" I'll break the door open if you don't open it right now, I'm giving you 3 seconds "

" 1"

" 2 "

" 3 - I'm openi-"

Huffing Harry opened the door " what ?"

" nothing-oh" Draco eyes widened as his eyes fell over Harry's prominent bulge. They remained in a moment of silence where Harry looked anywhere but Draco's face while Draco found it hard to resist to not stare at Harry's pants.

" i- I don't know how it happened- think you moaned and I've just have had pretty off days and somehow- nmph" it was too late for Harry to continue that sentence since Draco had shoved harry inside the bathroom, pining against the sink and kissing him over the lips. One of his hands making its way under Harry's shirt while the other one enclosing him between him and the sink. Travelling his hands on Draco's neck he made the kiss more heated and rough. It was beyond anything Harry could've ever imagined Draco's soft lips could've done but once his lips were against Harry's, it had aroused a wild sensation in him to have him right here and right then. The kiss became more sloppier with each second, not hurriedly but am urgency to discover what else he could do. The hand pressed against Harry's chest under his shirt was exploring the deeper depths of his chest and slowly moving downwards, Which continuously made Harry release moans he had only thought he could produce with a man. As if the heat was unbearable between them, Draco separated for air and travelled from Harry's lips down to his jawline, pressing small kisses before he has finally reached his neck and pressed warm kisses.

" ar- fuck - you sure ?" Harry moaned as Draco resumed kissing and licking over Harry's neck. His grip on Draco's neck had travelled into his hair and grasping enough to make him lose his control.

" I've always wanted you Harry " Draco moaned in his ear. He would've collapsed on the ground if he wasn't pressed against by Draco's body. Biting his lip he suppressed his desperate moans only for a few seconds until he found it hard to resist when he had managed to kiss Harry's sweet spot and initiated giving him a hickey. Losing control Harry rutted softly against Draco in a desperate attempt to gain any sort of friction for relief which made both of the men's moan in pure ecstacy of the moment and deepening kisses.

" you want to move to bed ?" Draco asked as he went back to kissing Harry's lips.

" thought you'd never asked " Harry mumbled against his lips and held onto Draco's neck, wrapping his legs around his body as Draco placed his hands under his thigh and carried them onto the bed and resumed kissing each other, losing one article of clothing one by one until none were left.

It was the night that had officially ruined their friendship, taking things to next level , doing things to each other they had only dreamt off but who would've known that their dreams of having the other men pressed against the bed, desperately moaning their name would've come true.

Requests open

I couldn't come up with any better idea for this prompt. Sorry if it seemed rushed.

Day 15- nobody can ever be you | Day 17- their own song

[theheightofdishonor]

Teen Wolf triads are something that can be so personal, so here’s a list of my faves 

Scott/Stiles/Allison

The OG trio. The gang that dies together might not stay together, but they’re still iconic.

Scott/Stiles/Lydia

Any Scott/Stiles/X dynamic is brilliant, but few more than this one. These three have been there since the beginning and they’ve gone through so much together. There’s no Teen Wolf without them. 

Scott/Stiles/Derek

They were the driving force in S1&2 and had some absolutely iconic moments together. Hate that there wasn’t more of them after that. 

Scott/Derek/Isaac 

Mostly based on S2/3. I was very invested in Isaac’s struggle to pick between these two. 

Scott/Stiles/Isaac

This triad’s dynamic completely changes between S2 and 3. In Season 2, Isaac, as part of Derek’s pack is a slightly antagonistic figure and it’s very much Scott&Stiles vs Isaac but in S3, Scott and Isaac grow closer while Isaac and Stiles erm, don’t. It’s very fun to watch. 

Scott/Isaac/Allison

My ot3 and the only trio on this list that I 100% ship. 

Isaac/Erica/Boyd

Ayy, it’s the OG Hale Pack aka 3 teens bonding over being thrown headfirst into something they weren’t prepared for and Derek’s horrible leadership. Isaac should’ve ran away with Erica and Boyd for solidarity’s sake. 

Chris/Allison/Isaac

Chris’s struggle between hating Isaac for dating his daughter and wanting to adopt him is hilarious. One of my favourites. 

Scott/Melissa/Isaac

 Who didn’t completely melt at Isaac joining the McCall fam? The scene where they’re ‘guarding’ Melissa was so cute. As a bonus, it made Stiles’s animosity towards Isaac that much stronger. Will forever hate that this trio was more or less non-existent in 3b even though I love Chris/Allison/Isaac. 

Derek/Cora/Peter

The non-dead Hales. Why oh why did Cora have to leave? Their family dynamic was great. 

Allison/Lydia/Cora

I know they only had a couple scenes as a triad, but there was so potential. We love antagonism with underlying sexual tension. And ofc, the only thing better than 1 terrifying badass that can secretly be super sweet is 3 terrifying badasses. 

Derek/Isaac/Boyd

At one point, the only non-dead members of the Hale Pack (TW quickly amended that). I always think of the S3a Loft scene where Boyd and Isaac skip school to protect Derek. Despite how awful of an alpha Derek’s been, they still care about him and he cares about them (as actual people and not just betas that he needs for power like he did originally)

Derek/Allison/Lydia. 

Yes it’s my 5th s3 based trio in a row, but can you blame me? This is 100% based off the classroom scene in 3x02. 

Allison/Lydia/Jackson

Although Lydia and Jackson were both awful in S1, their friendship with Allison and their immediately taking her under their wing was beyond precious. Additionally, it combines both the asshole-who’s-soft-towards-1-person- dynamic (jydia w/ allison) and assholes-who-secretly-care-about-each-other (jydia) And ofc, the underlying tension due to Jydia’s disdain towards Scott and later, Jackson and Allison’s experiences/knowledge of the supernatural. 

Malia/Kira/Lydia

Comedy gold. Their scenes speak for themselves and we needed more. 

Liam/Mason/Corey

Their S6a dynamic is sooo underrated and should’ve been given more screen time. I loved watching Liam and Corey struggle to get along for Mason’s sake because they want him to be happy. It was all very wholesome and one of the few things that made 6a worth watching. 

Stiles/Scott/Liam

Aka the best part of S4.Their dynamic is so fun and well-balanced and infinitely better because they’re a triad. You’ve got Scott and Liam figuring out their mentor/mentee relationship with Stiles co-parenting and preventing the Scott/Liam dynamic from turning unhealthy. (Liam and Scott’s S6 dynamic veered way too close to parent/child for my taste. They need Stiles to balance it out) It’s also hilarious how quickly Liam accepts being aggressively adopted by two idiots who are barely older than him. And Stiles takes so easily to playing older brother/co-parent. It’s adorable. They’re adorable. 

Erica/Allison/Lydia 

Very similar dynamic to Allison/Lydia/Cora due to Cora and Erica’s similar personalities but also not, which has a lot to do with Allison and Lydia’s reactions to Erica’s weaponized feminity. Also, there’s a lot more history between these girls and I want to know everything about what Erica thinks of Lydia after going to school with her for years. 

Sherriff/Melissa/Chris 

Of the top of my head, I can only remember that time where they were trapped under the Nemeton and that’s simply unacceptable. 

Sheriff/Noshiko/Melissa. 

It’s a crime that this triad never got scenes. Especially after the Sheriff tried to arrest Kira. I know Melissa bitch slapped him but I wanted to watch these two badasses gang up on the Sheriff together. ( the Noshiko/Melissa dynamic would be so iconic.) 

Victoria/Noshiko/Melissa

Another triad that never shared scenes (obviously because Vic is dead) but their power would’ve been off the charts. I want to make a joke about milfs, but I’ll refrain. 

The Yukimura fam

Seemed appropriate since my last two also included. Noshiko.I love family dynamics and the Yukimuras are no exception. The attraction of this triad, for me, is mostly the dynamic between Kira and Noshiko and how Ken navigates between them. They’re also a trio that we didn’t see nearly enough of in S4 and 5. Like seriously, where were they? Noshiko’s on the dead pool, but she’s barely mentioned. (on a mostly unrelated note, how is the 900 yr old Kitsune worth less than a girl that just found about her kitsune powers?)

Derek/Allison/Scott

I don’t need to explain this one. The angst, the drama, Derek projecting Kate onto Allison and Allison trying to murder Derek and their evolution to reluctant allies with a good dash of Scallison and Scott navigating his own difficult relationship with Derek. Aka the complicated, tension fraught trio we all loved/should love. ( ok, I kind of explained it)

Derek/Scott/Liam 

And here we have a two for one deal; two mentor/mentee dynamics in 1 triad. People much smarter than me have written about this trio in extensive detail, so all I’m saying is that Derek’s that one uncle who occasionally comes around and gives somewhat helpful advice. 

Braeden/Malia/Scott 

Braeden and Scott were great in S4. Braeden and Malia were great in S5. Scott and Malia are pretty great when they’re not in a relationship. Combine, and you get what had to be a kick-ass triad that’s sadly never canonly shown together (I think)

Melissa/Chris/Isaac

Not actually featured in the show, but Isaac deserves all the parental figures and I want to witness the surely epic custody battle between Chris and Melissa. 

Malia/Scott/Peter

That this trio is on here is actually pretty funny because I hate both Scalia and the forced Peter/Malia bonding in S6. But I loved the scene where Peter warned Malia not to fall in love with Scott because a) he has absolutely 0 right to advise her on anything and b) because of the history between Scott and Peter. In a way, a relationship with Malia is just another thing tying Scott to someone that’s repeatedly caused harm to him and his friends and was the initial cause for all the pain he’s suffered in the last couple years. I just find this dynamic worth exploring. 

Malia/Derek/Peter

The Hales 2.0. Derek and Malia deserve to bond over unwillingly being related to Peter, that scumbag. 

Malia/Stiles/Peter

Stiles and Peter are so fun together and Stalia is my jam. Throw in an antagonistic Malia and Peter relationship and they’re entertaining as hell. Much more lighthearted than Malia/Scott/Peter.  

Stiles/Malia/Lydia 

To clarify, this has nothing to do with a love triangle and everything to do with how their personalities play off each other. It’s one of those trios where together, they’re either terrifying or absolute morons. 

Stiles/Cora/Derek

Admittedly, my version of this is very Sterek+Cora and the hilarity of Stiles and his attraction to Hales but it’s also 3x snark and you really can’t go wrong. 

Scott/Stiles/Melissa 

It’s Melissa and her boys 1.0. This woman is by far the best parent on this show, and I love the specific dynamic among these three. Melissa might not always like Stiles, but she cares about him and there’s the mutual understanding that they both adore Scott and would do anything for him. Also, Mel being exasperated by the dumbass duo is always funny.  

Kate/Allison/Chris

Lowkey another custody battle because Kate and Chris do fight to be the bigger influence on Allison This is such a tragic trio to me, and the lesson here is basically that sometimes love isn’t enough. Chris and Kate both genuinely love Allison and she loves them too but can’t have both and at some point, she has neither. Kate and Chris care about each other, but that’s not enough either. In the end, they all lose each other. There’s no happy ending for them, at least not with each other. 

Derek/Stiles/Peter

Stiles just has chemistry (not necessarily romantic) with all Hales and this trio really shines through in 3x01 and in S3 in general. “Chess is Stiles’s game” asgdhfjgh. I wanted more of that very specific dynamic. 

That was a hell lot longer than I thought it would be, but what can you do. Feel free to tell me your own opinions in the tags/comments.  

[cyanocoraxx]

wait omg the ask feature is literally 4 sending ASKS... ok question.

i need ur thoughts on:

metal sonic is sonic roboticized theory

ARCHIE COMICS.. (ik you like shard so i have to ask)

when/where was metal sonic created, (on little planet, before cd, cd future, orrr???)

IDW IMPOSTER SYNDROME COMICS PLSS PLS PLS

idw comics in general, how far in are you and what do you think of the story's trajectory so far?

MECHA SONIC ! do you think he died after the events of Sonic 3 & knux? or where did it go otherwise?

this is a more questions than i originally intended i just think ur opinions on these subjects would be awesome to hear<3<3

1. i used to subscribe to this theory!! however my thoughts on it have changed a lot over time and now i don't think it works for a few reasons, personally. first and foremost, sonic himself has been roboticized in the comics before and wasn't called metal sonic and looked/acted different - if we count the comics as canon in any way, it kind of eliminates the theory because a roboticized sonic should resemble metal more closely than he did on those occasions. also, a few people have said, in relation to this theory, that only living beings can use chaos control - but then we have mecha sonic, who undeniably CAN. there's also metal's last words in the ova, "there is only one sonic" - he yields to sonic and makes no further attempt to prove that he's the "real" one or the better one. he admits it himself that sonic is the only real sonic in that moment. in sonic 4 episode 2 it's said that metal was built by eggman. robots other than metal have rebelled against eggman (e-103 gamma, e-123 omega), so metal rebelling against eggman isn’t exactly proof of his past as being sonic either in my eyes. also, in heroes neo says "i was created for the sole purpose of destroying you" rather than specifically alluding to being organic once - he also emphasises the importance of robots in his future as well rather than organics which makes me lean more towards being against the theory. i also think that, if this was canon, eggman would make more of a show of it. i feel like he’d use metal’s past as being a real sonic to get under sonic’s skin more often. it’s still a very compelling theory regardless and if you do subscribble to it then fair dos!! more power to you <333 i’d love to see it as an AU or something for sure it’s very cool and also angsty

2. hoo boy. archie comics. what a rollercoaster of fuckery and weird shit. ken penders? literally batshit. i only ever really looked at the archie comics when the robots (sonic’s dad jules is a fucking legend) and scourge were involved tbh, also SHARD ??? MY SON. MY BELOVED. HOW DARE THEY KILL HIM??? AND HE NEVERGOT TO CONFESS HIS LOVE FOR HIS AI GIRLFRIEND? god. jesus. overall though they definitely handled shard’s development really well - going from a “powerful, unfeeling robot” sacrificing himself for sonic and tails to becoming a hero in his own way. it’s basically like crack for my robot edge brain and he’s one of my most loved blorbos for sure. i also love how he refers to metal sonic as his brother on numerous occasions. good SHIT GOOD SHIT!!!!

3. i like to think metal was made on little planet. partly because in the fleetway comics, eggman cyber-forms it to use it as a power source for the metallix. maybe he used the planet in the creation of metal as well in some way. i also note that metal sonic’s armour is made with a tektite alloy. tektite is a natural glassy object that is made during a meteorite’s impact - basically, material from the ground is melted by the impact, splashed up into the atmosphere, and then falls back down. in the good ending of sonic CD, sonic watches as little planet produces lots of cosmic stars - so it’s not unlikely that “shooting stars” would collide with the planet from time to time, leading to a natural source of tektite. I ACTUALLY HAVE A PIECE OF TEKTITE MYSELF:

4. I’M NOT CAUGHT UP ON THAT PART YET SADLY. I KNOW I’M A FAKE SONIC FAN SORRY. SORRY. this is what my crystal ball of future telling shows though. like this will be ME:

5. i’m not very far into the IDW comics, i mostly stayed for neo metal’s arc and the metal virus arc and then my interest declined a bit after that - but i do intend to go back to them. i think theyre handling a lot of things well and i enjoy a lot of the newer faces they’ve brought to the series like surge, they cool

6. i personally don’t think that mecha “died” as such at the end of the boss battle - we don’t see them like, expLOTE exactly, they just kind of disappear from the screen and then everything whites out. i do think it got badly damaged tho and was out of commission for a long time. if it was me writing that scene personally i’d say he was out of commish and basically offline for some time as his systems recovered, which couldve taken like weeks seeing how badly he got fucked over by knuckles. once he was able to i would say he returned to eggman by himself, eggman probably believing he was completely destroyed didn’t go looking. he was never deployed again after his failure unless we count the archie and fleetway cameos. in my eyes he stayed with eggman to help command other bots behind the scenes and when metal sonic was created, mecha was kind of forgotten about in favour of the newer, more advanced robot.

[haliyam]

interim (ii)

zeke x reader/oc

summary: You return to Liberio not long after the Warriors arrive home from their failed mission in Paradis and discover that things have changed. (Or they will, and maybe a little more with Zeke than you expect.) [Season 4 and manga spoilers ahead]

AO3 link | Ch 1 | Ch 3

Hi again! I forgot to note in the first chapter that Reader here is 19 years old, while Zeke is 25. (Clearly, before the developments of this story, there was nothing but friendship there.) For the other Warriors, I put Pieck at 19 as well, while Porco is Reiner's age (around 17/18 that year). Marcel would have been the same age as Pieck and Reader in my headcanon. If you're not comfortable with the age difference, I understand.

Also, about university here so you don't get confused this chapter - I lifted the medical school system for Marley from Germany's current system where after a competitive state exam post-high school, students are able to head straight for medical school for a 6-year track followed by specialization.

Reminder that the Reader/OC, default name Lucy, is a cis-female Eldian character with a set background, but please feel free to set the substitution for the Reader to your chosen First Name using the InteractiveFics browser extension if you’re reading through the browser! So that would be: Lucy = Your or your character's First Name. Because reader will have a set background, you'll have a set surname as well.

Chapter 2

You don’t even get a moment to breathe. General List launches into a speech about the nerve of other so-called nations almost as soon as you sit down. Apparently, those in the Mid East peninsula have grown considerably bold over the last few months, with several navy ships withdrawing from the port of Ichakar and transferring, presumably, to Qali - which gives them a better angle from which to attack the mainland if they so wish it. They’ve also fortified their borders—ground troops distributed across the land close to Marley’s newly acquired cities—which is of course the sovereign right of those nations, but it’s blasphemy to the regime’s unending ambition.

You wish they had given you a brief with all this information before the meeting, the kind you have seen Willy and father poring over in their office in the past, but you get the feeling that the general is unloading information on you with the intent to overwhelm. 

“On the diplomatic front,” he continues with a hint of mockery, because of course he thinks of such things as futile, “they have been making demands. Asking that we keep to our waters when it is they who have encroached upon ours! The audacity—the delineation clearly states—” He continues to ramble until he is red in the face, but your neutral expression must slip into a wide-eyed look at some point, because he regains his composure with a visible wrinkle of his nose. “This arrogance can only mean one thing.”

He stares at you, and you realize he is expecting you to answer. You feel all eyes at the table on you, the Commander’s especially, and clear your throat. “...Weapons research, Sir?”

“Weapons development, Miss Tybur,” he corrects you. “Advanced and more prolific than we may have considered.”

He pauses, and you can’t help but speak. You can tell Magath knows it because he sits up straighter somehow, and in a moment of rebellion, you refuse to recognize the caution in his posture. “With all due respect, Sir, the… armaments race among the other nations is no secret, and on Eldian labor, no less.”

A fist slamming on the desk causes everyone around it to jump in their seats. “It’s what Eldians deserve!” the general next to List says, so naturally that he might have been born saying it. You blink, the heat of embarrassment and indignation crawling up your neck, but it’s only with List’s raised hand that the man remembers that the white band on your left arm is only for show. He glances away. “Present company excluded, of course.”

With the exception of his hand, List continues as though neither of you ever interrupted him. “And now, to the point. We need further information on the status of this little race. That is where you come in, Miss Tybur. You will use your family’s connections to enter the peninsula with our people - the peninsula and beyond, as the exact lay of their operations lies beyond our ken - and retrieve this information.”

It’s one thing to predict a general’s words and another to be confronted with them. You suppose you were still hoping he wouldn’t say it. “General List, are you saying you want a Tybur to be a spy?”

List glances over at Magath. “They were trained for interrogation, weren’t they?” Your old instructor is barely able to nod before the general recalls to you, “Ah, yes, I read the file. You withstood all but the final test. A failure then, but rather more a fluke, in my opinion. An irreplicable circumstance.”

You don’t say anything. You would rather not remember that night. Or that particular moment.

He takes your silence for agreement. “And so I answer, why not? You became a Warrior candidate - unprecedented initiative and involvement by the Tybur family. Why should this be any different?”

“Because—” Because becoming a Warrior isn’t a choice a child makes of their own free will, not really, but a Tybur doesn’t question the decisions of the former head of the family, of father, before all these strangers. No matter that they were loyal to him. You purse your lips. “Sir, I just don’t believe I’m the right person for this.”

“Your file did say you were always hasty, Miss Tybur,” List says, and you both glance at Magath at that. He doesn’t nod, only meets your gazes. He seems as trapped in this as you are, which makes your resentment for him ebb only slightly. “But you should know better now.”

Now you’re getting irritated. The temper that was your closest companion in your early childhood, and then your early adolescence seizes your fist under the table as List continues. “How goes Foundation operations?”

The Tybur Family Foundation. Set up by Walter Tybur when he first became head of the family and operated by the eponymous Tyburs - most often chaired by the spouse of whoever leads it. Your mother first, once, when she cared to, and now Mila. It provides healthcare and educational opportunities for ‘peoples once oppressed by the Eldian Empire,’ as part of continuing reparations for sins the Tybur family did not commit. Or so they say. Many of its employees now are Eldian, part of Willy’s initiative to improve Eldian relations… but in reality it does little when the Foundation is only a grantmaking organization.

“Well enough, Sir.”

“Is that so? From what I hear, the Foundation is unable to set up even offices in several countries in spite of the family’s stellar international relations.”

“And,” you add carefully, “if they ever catch wind of my close involvement with the regime even after all this time, that will not improve.”

“Clearly, Miss Tybur.” His level gaze shifts to patronizing in all the ways you hate. “But say you become more independent. Distance yourself from the military that leads our fine motherland… Say,” he smiles, “that you make overtures of dissatisfaction with Marley’s cruel expansionist policies and express the utmost sympathy for other nations. Perhaps then they will permit you to expand your operations within their borders.”

Your jaw almost drops at the very suggestion. You’ve always thought, since Willy became Lord Tybur, that only the Tyburs have the power to change the direction of Marley. For obvious reasons, not so obvious to the rest of the world, but also for the heritage you represent. If the Tybur family can be good Eldians, why can they not be only one of many good Eldians? Why not introduce the concept that any Eldian can be good, as any other race of people? 

“You…” You rein in your reaction even as your imagination sets off in the direction List has set it—and far more. Especially the part where the Tybur family spreads the good name of Eldians throughout the world. No more ‘special’ treatment, no more interment zones…

No more Warriors.

Maybe. If Marley gets what it wants. 

You would allow that? was your question. But the answer, you understand suddenly, is that they would allow perhaps the chance of it, in exchange for Marley’s continued expansion using Eldian bodies on the front lines. A slim chance of sparing Eldian lives for the certainty of losing them. You feel lightheaded just considering it. You want to help, but you are the last person who should hold so many lives in her hands.

Your eyes refocus on General List. A pleased smile brims beneath his well-trimmed beard, like he’s already read your mind. But he can’t know—you’ve shared your thoughts with no one but Willy and Lara, who have been as dismissive as they have been receptive. In other words, as though you’re still the child father sent away thirteen years ago they expect will eventually forget all her questions.

“Does Lord Tybur know about this, Sir?” You eye the intelligence officer not far from List. 

List clears his throat. “Not as yet. Lord Tybur might be more receptive to such a scheme were his sister to present it to him herself. We are aware that Lady Tybur chairs the Foundation. Her movements are conservative, but she may agree to a more generous, active Foundation on your word.”

Scheme. That’s what it is, but that isn’t what really catches your attention. Willy and Mila, listening to you? You want to burst into laughter, tell them that they have severely misunderstood the dynamics of the Tybur family. But that intelligence officer is here, which makes you think List is lying.

“Why not ask Lady Tybur to head the operation?”

“Lord Tybur would never allow us to risk his wife,” List laughs. The implication of his words is hardly lost on you, but the general tempers his mockery with a compliment. “And we believe a new, younger face for the Foundation - perhaps one our enemies believe to be foolishly idealistic - will better suit it.”

Foolishly idealistic. Like the sort of person who would agree to this plan. Your face doesn’t fall, but your eyes do - toward the table, the way the fingers of each general drum against the wood. Magath’s hands clasp each other, firm as ever. When you look up to List again, you frown. 

“Sir, you know that I’ve returned to Liberio to enter the university’s medical program.”

“Yes, yes, we were quite impressed when we learned of your state exam results, Miss Tybur,” List waves, impatient. He’s been relaxed back against his chair, but now that his certainty is dwindling, he leans forward on the table. “But think. Look at the bigger picture. As a physician you may help a man in need one after the other - years and  years down the line. Six years at the shortest, and if you mean to be a specialist, how much longer? But with the Foundation’s resources, and with our backing at that, you will aid hundreds, thousands - and the motherland most importantly. Within the year. Half, if we move quickly.”

You bite your lip. You want it and you don’t. The Tyburs must do something, or else we are nothing were your exact words to Willy before. But the idea of retaking your name when you have only just arrived here nauseates you, and assisting the expansion, the destruction, under the guise of aid more so. 

“I… would like time to give this some thought, Sir.”

A sigh seems to echo around the room, but it’s only all the men with you and their exasperation. Only Magath is expressionless as List visibly bites his tongue. He gives the commander a glare for good measure, as though it’s his fault you did not agree at once. “Very well,” he says. “But know that prolonging this will only bring harm to the motherland.”

You only nod. Much as you would like to have it, you have no intention of getting the last word here. You avert your gaze from the Commander when you permit the men to leave the room ahead of you.

It seems like the start of a rather miserable day - you’re practically scheduled to overthink all this some time this week, if not this afternoon - when, once the steady march of power has cleared from the hallway, Pieck meets you as you step out of the conference room.

“Boo.”

Your hand flies over your chest, but it’s a chuckle that comes out of you. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

“So I’ve been told.” She peeks into the room behind you right as you close the doors. “The brass did not look pleased.”

You wince. “I gave them no reason to be. I hate to get the Commander in trouble, but...” You trail off. You both know you can’t say much more.

It’s Pieck’s turn to raise an eyebrow.

“...Sorry.”

“That’s all right,” she shrugs. “I came here for lunch, not information.”

You doubt she knows the extent of the Tyburs’ relationship with the regime, but you can always trust Pieck to know not to pry. “You know, I remember now why you’re my favorite Warrior.”

“Oh?” Pieck grins. “Not the Boy Wonder?”

“Boy Wonder,” you repeat, the way the two of you always have when that name comes up - with a snicker and definitely with no one else around. You’ll never understand how the brass can say it with such straight faces. “So how about that meal?”

She pinches at the skin of your elbow through your sleeve. “Changing the subject doesn’t work on me, you know.”

You sigh. “Can we please eat first? I’m miserable enough without an empty stomach.”

“I guess some things don’t change.”

“Hey!” You half-scoff, half-laugh. With a wink, Pieck slips her arm around yours, and you start down the hallway in companionable silence. 

Or you would, if you didn’t know that you owe her a little more than that. Reaching over to rest your free hand over the arm linked with yours, you look at her. “I’m sorry, Pieck. I really am.”

Pieck waits a moment, and then meets your gaze. She searches yours for the lie, but she already knows it won’t be there. You always were too candid for your own good. With a squeeze at your hand, she nods. “I know. Tell me all about it after that meal. Your treat, right?”

You blink, and then laugh with shaking relief. “Of course.”

--

You and Pieck fall back into the easy rapport you’ve shared since you became friends more than a decade ago. Contrary to her words, she doesn’t press you for answers as you decide on where to eat in the zone. For old times’ sake, you agree on the sandwich place two blocks from the Yeagers’, and you end up sharing a meal in your bedroom. 

Sitting on your bed together, legs dangling over one edge as you nip at your food, you finally work up the courage to speak through your guilt and explain yourself and the past five years—or most of it. And of course Pieck is understanding, which makes you feel even more pathetic. True to form, she picks that up as well and gracefully changes the subject.

You’re the one who brings it back to what still hangs in the air over you when you’ve finished eating. Nothing personal—but though Marcel was the only one with whom you were ever close friends with, Reiner, Bertholdt, and Annie were your teammates too. You’d suffered your superiors together during training, and you’d been there for each of their first transformations. For all the experiments too; even their first assault mission. 

“What happened?”

Propped up on one elbow, Pieck is lying on her side, legs tucked under her skirt as you set aside your trash. She accepts the glass you hand her from the table, eyes distant. “Zeke hasn’t told you?”

“Zeke won’t look at me unless he absolutely has to. You know how he is.”

Pieck groans. She knows. “He was so irritating after you stopped writing.”

You click your teeth in a wince. “Really?” 

“Imagine, Lucy—after you all left, I was stuck with him and Porco. The abandonment issues didn’t just double, they were exponential. Multiply that with the ego and the sarcasm? The Commander was my favorite person those days.”

You laugh in spite of yourself. “I am so sorry, Pieck.”

“You should be,” she grumbles, but the remark is softened with a grin. When you grimace, she braces herself with a deep breath.

She tells you everything, or most of it: that the people of Paradis were shocked to find others alive outside of the walls, what Reiner and Bertholdt and Annie went through the past so many years, how the latter were captured—and exactly what happened to Marcel. She saves that one for last, and though you are infinitely more curious about the world behind the coward king’s walls, you reach for her hand again.

“I’m sorry, Pieck.”

She shakes her head. “You don’t have to make apologies all day, you know.”

“Don’t I?” you grin, embarrassed, teeth gritted even when your feigned mirth starts to droop. The dreamy way she speaks throws others off, but you know Pieck. She’s always been the most pragmatic of the Warriors and so she must feel silly, thinking about what could have been, had Marcel returned. Would a childhood crush have become something more between them if things were different? He had promised his family, and her specifically, that he would come home after saving the world. The thought, the regret for a chance not even yours gone, has a weight settling in your throat too.

You clear it and huff. “Well, it’s a great loss. I think everyone was a little in love with Marcel.”

Pieck glances at you.

“...Except Annie,” you add.

The sudden exemption makes Pieck choke with laughter, with tears not far behind. “Except Annie. Of course.”

You giggle, and both of you pretend not to see each other wiping your own eyes. “You know. Annie was always the toughest among us.” You pause. “Is. She is.” When Pieck’s laughter gives way to somber agreement, you ask, “What about Reiner? What has he said? I know what he’s said, but… two weeks of  debriefing… it sounds like a little much.”

“He was there for years,” Pieck shakes her head. “He grew up there, Lucy. He’s… completely different now. Kind of like you.” 

“I think that’s giving me a little too much credit.” You haven’t done anything remotely in the way of serving the motherland; not that you begrudge the others that the way you once did. “All I’ve done is see things and get upset. Until I can get my degree, and then until I can get the War Hammer, there’s nothing I can do.”

That’s a lie. There is apparently the Foundation—but the idea of directly assisting the regime in its efforts is something you cannot consider as you are.

“If you do become a doctor, will they let you have the War Hammer?”

You bite your lip. If only for Lara, you’re still bitter about that. “What was it all for otherwise? Though… I guess if I had inherited it then, there’s no way I’d ever be able to come back and see you all except under specific circumstances. Much less be permitted to study.”

Pieck only sighs, reaching for your hand. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t. And when I think about it… a part of me is glad Marcel didn’t have to see all of what Marley has done. What we had to do in Paradis—and I only saw a speck.”

You know what the others did, but Zeke and Pieck’s involvement apart from retrieving your old comrades is still vague. 

You squeeze her hand reassuringly, but you can’t help it. “What did you have to do?”

 “What we’ve always had to,” she answers with a faint smile. Your friends always had tells when they would rather not say more, and this is unmistakably hers. Given your earlier explanation, you understand why. She intertwines your fingers with gratitude at your silence. 

“So,” you start after a while, “how about some dessert before I walk you back to HQ?”

“Sure. I might as well treat myself a little before we have to head out to the mountains again.” At your questioning gaze, she says, “Training with the Panzer Unit. That’s what all the paperwork was for.”

“Gross.”

She chuckles. “That’s exactly what Zeke says.”

Your face falls at the mention of him. Relieved as you are with your progress with Pieck, Zeke is an entirely different ball game. You hate that that’s the phrase you even thought of.

“You know what?” Pieck sits up smacks her hands on her lap. “I’ll treat you, too.”

You perk up. “Really?”

“For a price.”

“...What’s that?”

“Talk to Zeke already. If I come back after a month to your gloomy faces still, I’m going to go crazy.”

“It’s only been a day,” you mutter. “And I’ve tried to apologize to him.”

Pieck gives you a knowing look. 

“I did,” you insist helplessly, but you both know that’s probably a lie. In Pieck’s case. You know it is absolutely false: when Zeke came upstairs after dish duty, quietly closing the door to his room, you stepped out of yours and stood outside in the hallway, your hand raised to knock on his door. You just couldn’t do it. You can take Porco’s jabs any day, but last night, the thought of Zeke and his silence, or worse, his caustic cheer, sent you scurrying back to your room.

You sigh. “Fine.”

Amused, Pieck gets to her feet for the opportunity to loom akimbo over you. “Good. And if you start to lose heart, try to remember that six-year old who used to glare at Magath like she had nothing to lose. That girl had guts.”

“You mean the half-dead one who wasn’t allowed dinner and got a Warrior class’s worth of cleanup duty alone, whom you specifically told to get over herself if she didn’t want to actually die a few months into training?”

“Exactly. What is Zeke going to do? Tell you to go to your room without dinner?”

Maybe. You sigh. “Sometimes I don’t like it when you’re right.”

Pieck grins. “And when Zeke gets over himself—maybe he’ll tell you about his brother.”

Your shock would be better illustrated in this moment were you sipping a drink you could spit in her face. “His what?”

“Shh. I don’t think he’s told the Yeagers. I think… he only told Magath because I was there when he discovered it. Still,” she says when your eyes remain wide and expectant, “it’s not my place to say. So talk to him.”

--

Medicine is one of the few fields for which Eldians are permitted to pursue higher education. It’s only logical—there are only a few non-Eldians who care to treat pig-blooded devils, and the efforts of those who do are wasted on said filth. And so the regime allows the admission of more Eldians than often permitted under quotas for other majors, even if the number does remain small regardless.

After parting ways with Pieck, you find yourself standing in line in some administrative building in the University of Liberio in the midday heat of summer. The line stretches outside because this is the queue for Eldian students wishing to confirm their intention to enroll over a month from now. That’s all—you need only submit a form and pay a fee, and the line for non-Eldians students has long finished—but of course the line has barely moved for your kind.

You’re clutching your envelope and your permit to your chest, which you quickly realize is a terrible idea. Sweat is starting to trickle down the nape of your neck, and you start to fan yourself with the envelope. Talking to the other applicants in line is prohibited - you must be spaced far from one another so as not to make noise and distract students who actually deserve to be here.

It’s ridiculous. You can’t even leave the line because saving spots is prohibited. Something about being fair.

The frustration crawls up your neck in the form of prickling heat, and you feel a headache coming. You fan yourself more vigorously, trying to calm down. It takes a minute, but the background buzz eventually starts to soothe you, and you begin to accept that you can simply return to the Yeagers’ and change as soon as this is over. The glares your line receives from passing students and the guards watching you, ensuring none of you causes a ruckus (as if any Eldian would dare), fade under the memory of your childhood. You withstood it before, with Magath and the other drill instructors screaming in your face. You can ignore a few nasty looks.

With that as a frame of reference, the line is even almost... peaceful. The heat is dry, not humid, there’s no mud, no blisters in your feet, no rucksack weighing you down, and no rifle either. 

Only the sudden rustle of paper as it slips from your thumb interrupts that peace. 

“No!” you gasp, watching your permit flutter closer to a guard with his back turned. 

Just then a hand swoops in to save it - its owner bent forward, dark hair falling over his face until he rights himself, permit in hand, and glances around. You sigh in relief when you spot the band around his arm and wave him over. 

He jogs over to you, hand already extended with the permit. “Confirming your slot for the medical school?” he asks, brushing away the bangs that fall over his face. He’s got the slightest stubble around his jaw, which he brushes his fingers over when he notices you looking.

You meet his gaze when  you notice you’re looking. “Yeah,” you say, clearing your throat. He smiles at once, as if he can tell you’re embarrassed, but he only casts a glance at the line behind and ahead of you. “It was a lot worse during my time. They had us looping around the gate.”

“Ugh, really?”

He nods, but swallows down his grimace to lick his lips. “I’ve… never seen you around the zone before.”

You blink. Smile a little as you glance around the line. “You know everyone in the zone?”

He opens his mouth to respond with a sheepish grin that makes his eyes twinkle when movement behind him catches your peripheral vision. One of the guards watching the line has noticed him and is stomping his way over. Noticing your alarm, he sticks out a hand. “I’m Kellan, by the way.”

“Lucy. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Lucy,” he repeats, and you’re barely able to shake his hand when the guard yanks him back. 

“Damn pig’s blood—!”

“I’m going, sir. Sorry,” says Kellan, ending the apology with his eyes on you even as he winces from the shorter man’s grip. When he’s eventually released, he ducks away and walks off. He glances over his shoulder to wave, but another guard keeps him moving with a shove.

The shorter one glares at you when he’s gone, and though you remember Pieck’s words, you know this isn’t the time or the place.

“Sorry,” you mutter, eyes to the ground as you turn ahead. Once he’s assured of your submission, he leaves too.

The line takes longer than you expect, but you survive the sweltering heat and submit your form just before the offices close. You hurry back to the zone afterward, dropping by the Galliard bakery to call on Mr. and Mrs. Galliard and offer your condolences. They are shocked but overjoyed to see you, and insist that you take your old favorites when they discover that you’ll be dropping in on Mr. Finger afterward.

You don’t stay long, though Mr. Finger is pleased about your choice of future employment. You feel even guiltier at the unspoken regret in his smile, and beg him not to mention it when he tries to thank you for the support the Tybur family has sent the Fingers over the years—the one thing you think Willy has ever done right.

You return to the Yeagers before dark, early enough to help Mrs. Yeager start with dinner. Dr. Yeager is apologetic as always, but you’re able to change the subject by serving the blueberry pie from the Galliards for a mid-meal dessert of sorts, and the dinner table relaxes soon after. Zeke is absent - he still hasn’t come home from work - so you make sure to leave some for him. This time, Mrs. Yeager allows you to take over cleanup, and the couple retires to their bedroom once the conversation fades into a comfortable silence.

You hope to meet Zeke right as he arrives, corner him into talking to you somehow unless he decides to miss dinner himself, but after half an hour of sitting at the dinner table, cleaning anything you might have missed in the kitchen and the dining room, and rearranging anything out of place in the living room, it starts to look like he won’t be coming anytime soon. 

That’s fine, you tell yourself. You feel slimy from being out in the sun all afternoon anyway, and you treat yourself to a relaxing bath. Zeke is still away when you return to your room, and the calming warmth of your evening has you yawning. You have no choice but to change into your pajamas. 

In truth, you’re a little relieved. Not that you’re particularly answerable to Pieck anyway, at least not until she finishes training with the Panzer Unit, but it won’t be your fault that you and Zeke weren’t able to talk tonight. But just to feel as though you’ve tried your very best, you keep yourself up by starting to write to Lara—and then regret your principle when you hear heavy footsteps outside and a soft click of the door across yours.

The word you’re writing skitters off to the edge of the paper in your surprise. Your heartbeat invades the tense silence of your room, but you manage to take a deep breath, folding your unfinished letter and slipping it under the paperweight on your desk. 

Your door is your next obstacle.

Overlapping images of how Zeke will surely reject you race through your mind alongside the words you wish you could say, and you’re able to keep up with about... none of them. You thought that the words would come to you, and maybe they will, but the moment is about to come and you can’t think of a single word to say. 

If you have time to worry, you have time to just get over there and do it, you tell yourself. You shake your head, regretting your own harshness, but also nod as you hastily gulp down the glass of water on your bedside table. Those words in mind, you move, switching one door for another. No longer standing nose-to-panel with your bedroom door, you’re doing it with Zeke’s in the hallway instead. 

Hand raised to knock, you eye the light peeking out from the gap beneath the door.  Knock. Just knock. The worst he can do is turn you away, and you’ll probably want to wriggle under the dirt and cry, but you’ll at least have tried. You owe it to him to try, like you did with Pieck, and you know you’re braver than this. Or you were, once upon a time.

If you’re still the same girl from years ago, you don’t get to find out just yet.

You hear his footsteps coming from the bathroom too late. No, it’s the heat of another and the familiar scent of his soap which alert you to his presence.

That and his voice, still too deep for the older boy you remember. “Aren’t you a little too old to still be knocking on my door at night?”

“Zeke,” you say, trying to pull your heart down from your throat before you turn and meet his flat expression. He’s in pajamas himself, his hair damp. You must not have heard him head for the bathroom you share down the hall. “Hi.”

That’s more than your mind could summon a while ago, but you still want to smack yourself.

His chest rises and falls as he takes a deep breath. His jaw shifts even as his pale eyes stare down at you in the dim light, as if deciding what to do with you... and then he sighs. He’s too tired to be glib tonight. “Can I help you, Lucy?”

Your lips purse with trepidation, but you stand your ground. “Can we talk?”

He pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. Looking down at you is clearly work. “I’m listening.”

You hesitate, trying not to make another face. It seems to come naturally with Zeke around, but you resist the urge, and instead tilt your head to the side. There is no light coming from the master bedroom down the length of the hallway. When you glance back up at Zeke, you give him a pointed look.

Zeke sighs again, and then… decides to just brush past you to grab his doorknob.

Your stomach twists with both disappointment and pique. “Zeke,” you whisper furiously, barely just stomping your foot.

He whips his head to face you, halfway inside already. “What?” he whispers back, like you’re nagging him. Then he rolls his eyes, swinging his door wide open and backing into it to give you room. 

“Get in.”

--

Sorry for the dearth of Zeke moments this chapter, but the next one will mooostly feature him and yes we'll finally find out why Zeke is upset. I used to write very long chapters with fics, but that really exhausted me so I'm trying to write shorter now to keep myself from burning out. But I'm enjoying writing in 2nd person! I never used to do it because it was frowned upon long ago, and possibly still is now? But idc anymore it's fun to try.

Thank you for reading!

[jaehwany]

tag game ✨

i was tagged by ali @metawin to answer these questions! thank youuuu 💜💜💜

1. why did you choose your url?

i’ve been a ken stan for many years so i think i’ve been using this url for at least 7 or 8 years?? and now i’m too attached to it to let it go. also i think i’m just honestly too lazy to ever think about changing it

2. any sideblogs? if you have them name them and why you have them.

none that are active! i used to help run a few fyeahs (lol remember when these were a thing...) and also had a fashion id blog. i currently only have one i use to save inspirations and references

3. how long have you been on tumblr?

i’ve only been more active on here since quarantine last feb/mar but i’ve been on tumblr since 2010 :’)

4. do you have a queue tag?

nah i’m a spam reblog kinda gal sorry

5. why did you start your blog in the first place?

i think it was cool to have one way back then lmao i didn’t really start it for any particular fandom. it was also a good way to pass the time during boring lectures. but since then this blog has gone thru extensive phases (if you know you know..) to become what it is now

6. why did you choose your icon/pfp?

bc i couldn’t resist. she’s so cuteeee and makes the best expressions 🥰️🥰️🥰️

7. why did you choose your header?

love love loveddd this moment from the ep 2 ipytm doc. it’s just a super cute heart fluttering moment and i love the “imperfection” of it since it wasn’t used in the final take

8. what’s your post with the most notes?

um an exo post from almost 10 years ago that i’m too embarrassed to link lol but it has like >15K notes i think. but since i was more active last year, this IOTNBO post (which looks awful i knOW!! i used to screen record the eps bc i was too lazy to torrent them 😭)

9. how many mutuals do you have?

i don’t actually know! enough to provide the validation i seek 💞

10. how many followers do you have?

shhhhhh 💞💞💞

11. how many people do you follow?

125. i do unfollow blogs regularly especially resource or translation blogs that i follow during specific hyperfixations and no longer have interest in following anymore (ahem skam) 

12. have you ever made a shitpost?

not really

13. how often do you use tumblr each day?

right now probably daily! i’m more active usually when there are currently airing shows i’m keeping up with

14. did you have a fight/argument with another blog once?

not my non confrontational ass lmao. i remember someone indirected me on twitter once upon a time and it kept me up for days 😔

15. how do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ posts

immediate gut reaction is a very defensive “don’t tell me what to do!!!!” but hmm yeah i agree with ali - interact with a post if u want to and don’t feel obligated to bc you’re in charge of your own social media experience and if you’re not in the right head space to do so then you shouldn’t feel bad about scrolling past. it’s always something you can revisit if you feel up to it or don’t that’s okay too. having empathy is important but we’re all human and there’s also a limit to the number of issues we can dedicate our time and effort to understanding and caring for

16. do you like tag games?

yes!!! they’re always fun to do and i try to do them as much as i can

17. do you like ask games?

i don’t usually participate bc i’m shy but i love dropping asks in other people’s inboxes and finding out more about them!

18. which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

idk 😭😭😭

19. do you have a crush on a mutual?

i don’t even know what having a crush feels like anymore

20. tags?

i’ll tag: @clarawho @baijingting @baek1nho @surii @cryborgs @cuddlybitch @ramsking @ficklefackle @mmesutozill @belsmultifandommess @starfire-s @wjmild @gimme-a-chocolate @kateknowsdramas (hehe almost tagged your old url kate!! XD)

[mockingjayne12]

Take Me Home - Chapter 3

(Jamie x Claire / Outlander Fic)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

CHAPTER THREE:

She can feel the spray of scalding hot drops hit her back, their rhythmic pounding against her flesh vibrate through her, seeping into her skin, the heat of water the only warmth she allows herself to feel.  Her brown hair becomes blacker still, creating a shield, shrouding her in darkness.

“What are you, stalking me?” She hears herself say, the shock of seeing the red haired actor staring up at her with his impossibly blue eyes.

Her music softly plays through the trickling of water, the kind Gillian refers to as “doom and gloom” but whose words touch her in a way she doesn’t permit others to attempt, making her feel that maybe she’s not so alone.  She pulls her knees closer to her body, collapsed into a ball.

He nearly chokes on his laughter, her face turning red with an almost blush at her assumption.

“I dinna think it’s stalking, as ye say, if I was asked,” he teases, that grin she can’t wipe from her eyes playing on his lips.

“Asked?” She balks, and he points at Gillian, who’s not so subtly eavesdropping from her table behind them.

“I’m going kill her,” Claire mutters under her breath.

As if noticing that she was letting on that he’d thrown her off, she straightens, her long neck peeking from its collar, the tips of her eyes covered by fringe, leaving a narrowing effect down upon this man.  She can feel her heart beating loudly against her ears.

“What can I get for you?”

“I dinna ken, what’s good?” He asks with a raise of his brow, and a grin that she can’t quite tell if he’s trying to be cute or just oblivious to her mood.

Her hands drop by her side, her pad hitting her apron with an exasperated sigh.

“I do have other tables to get to…” And she swears his grin falters a bit before perking back up with a shake of his head, his curls floating across his eyes, like fire threatening to be extinguished by the blue sea it hovers over.

“Two coffees,” he says, and she balks again, the thought of someone joining him having never crossed her mind.  And she silently kicks herself for believing this was anything other than a coincidence, him being here.  He certainly didn’t show up for her.  Of course not.  And she quickly turns to escape before her glass face gives away that she ever thought differently.

Heading to the back, she glances at the mirror that hangs above the employee sink, and sees her hair sticking out in all directions, her fringe curling at the ends, and she quickly sweeps them to the side.  The stain on her shirt has set, a ring of embarrassment displayed for all, tie crooked, and the black of smudged makeup creasing in the crinkles her eyes give way to when she smiles, which isn’t too often these days.  Turning on the faucet, she cups the water between her palms before splashing the liquid against her face, the droplets momentarily waking her, before she attempts to wipe away the black evidence of sadness with her finger.

Sitting in the bed of her tub, the shower pours down on her, and she looks up into the water, never quite drowning her in its wake, instead trickling against her, escaping from her presence the way she wishes she could do to herself.

“Here you go,” she says, placing one coffee in front of him, and the other on the other end of the table, likely for some blonde he’ll have meeting him.  “Would you like to wait until the rest of your party gets here…” but her question trails off, as she sees him laugh just a bit to himself.  “Is there something funny?”

“No,” he quickly says.  “I’ll wait,” his tongue comes to lick his lips, and she swears if she had still been holding the coffee mugs, she’d have spilled them right into his lap.  

“Hmph,” she says with a flick of her head, and nearly running right into Gillian carrying a tray of drinks.

“Careful, Sassenach,” she hears over her shoulder, tempted to turn towards him with her tongue stuck out like a two year old, as she slinks off to her other tables.

Claire shakes her head, sending water hitting the curtain, her hair refusing to relent, clinging to her, like soot against snow, polluting her mind with conversations she knows she needs to rid herself free of.

She finds herself peeking over at his table as the rush begins.  A flurry of people begging for her attention, demands that have her questioning if they were this picky in their every day life or just when it came to food.  Every time she’d head over to refill his coffee, which was beginning to become impressive he could consume so much (the second cup still sat full) she’d be beckoned over to one of her more demanding tables, which was okay by her, it gave her an excuse to avoid James.  But her eyes refused to get the memo, constantly travelling over, raking over his strong back, to the red curls that gathered on his neck, the glint from the sun coming in through the window he sat by, striking the scar that rested on his cheekbone, and not for the first time, she finds herself wondering what it would feel like to run her finger over the mar of imperfection.

The water puddles in the bend of her arm, caught between her connecting flesh, with one movement she lets it go, splashing into to where her feet rest, and her toes curl at the sudden deluge.

“Get back to work, Beauchamp,” her manager’s voice grating on her nerves, interrupting her daydream.  Gillian always claimed he had a crush on her, but Claire mostly found the man to be harmless.  As long as she kept her head down and showed up for her shifts, he wasn’t too hard on her.  But when he’d lean against the counter just a little too close, she’d find an excuse to be busy.

“Going, Christie,” her emphasis on his surname not unnoticed.  But the rush had died down at this point, only a few patrons remained, one being James.

Sidling up to his table, she almost feels badly for the man who’d clearly been stood up.  Almost.

“Hot date didn’t show up?” She asks with a raised brow, her finger idly tracing her own mar of imperfection.

“Verdict’s still out,” he says with a shrug.

“Maybe next time,” she offers, and then scrunches her face at the idea of acting hopeful for his love life.

“We’ll see,” he says with a glint in his eye, and then she hears the giggles from a few tables back.  Glancing over she sees two women having clearly spotted James.

“Never short on admirers, I see,” she says as he stands, and Claire nearly stumbles backwards to get out of his way, his hands shooting out to steady her, briefly, before quickly letting go, her mouth hanging open as he makes his way towards the door, a quick nod and smile sent towards the two women who’d sent him fleeing.

“Hey, you forgot to…” she’s about to say, when he turns, his hand running through his hair, and then he’s off.  “…pay.”  She huffs, moving to clear the mugs, when she finds a bill tucked underneath the second cup of coffee.

Momentarily breaking from her sitting position, she reaches for the drain, stopping the water’s escape, left with no choice but to gather around her.

“Bitch, what was that for?” Gillian screeches, Claire’s hand having slapped her shoulder.

“You told him to come here?” She practically growls, her anger having stewed enough to skip a meal on her break.

“Told who?” Gillian says, voice going high, acting innocent, twisting a piece of her own red hair between her fingers.

“Fuck off, you told him to come here as some sort of pity date,” she argues, flopping back in her chair out back, the sun beating down on her pale face.

“Honey, if you think that was a date…” Gillian starts, tilting her head in horror at the thought.

“You know what I mean,” Claire’s words tinged in defeat.

“I simply suggested that if he wanted to see you again, he should stop by…that’s all,” her shrug acting as if it really was nothing to get angry about.

“Yeah, well, he clearly felt sorry for me, as he left me this,” she yanks a hundred dollar bill from her apron.  “Like he can just…buy me off like that.  I swear, they’re all the same.”

“At least he didn’t try to shove it into your shirt,” her friend counters with a sheepish grin.

“Yeah, well, I’m going to bloody shove this up his arse if he shows up again,” taking the money and putting it into a separate pocket.

“I love it when you get all British on me,” Gillian teases, causing Claire to roll her eyes.

There’s a break in the music as the song changes, a soft instrumental piece begins to play, the keys of a piano almost twinkle her vision with its sound, causing a settling feeling to manifest in her stomach.  It’s a nostalgic piece, one she can’t place, but that builds within her, until she’s breathing heavily.  The water climbing up above her ankles, just deep enough that she can easily lay down now.

She’s not sure why she’s surprised then the next day, as she’s pulling her mess of curls into a top knot, when Gillian runs up behind her with a beaming smile on her face.

“He’s back,” she practically sings.

“You’re kidding,” Claire says with an annoyed tone, but she can’t help the way her heart begins to beat just a little faster, as she quickly looks down to see that at least today she’s managed not to spill anything on herself.  Yet.

Marching out onto the floor, she quickly arrives at his table, the same one he’d been at yesterday, and she nearly does a double take, the glasses he’s wearing today somehow making him even cuter than usual, but she shakes her head, her indignation back within a second, and slams the hundred dollar bill down on the table.

“I’m not a charity case, James,” she sneers, and his shocked face looks up at her as if she’d slapped him.

“Never thought ye were, Sassenach,” he tries, but she’s not buying it.

“Who gives this much for two cups of coffee?  Do you think I’m that desperate for money?”

“No, I—“

“Because I’m not,” she says with a crossing of her arms.

“Wait, why didn’t ye use it to pay for my coffee?”

Her face begins to heat, her arms awkwardly adjusting, as she looks anywhere but him.

“You saved it just to make a point…”

“Yeah, so…”

“Stubborn,” he laughs.

“Stop, it’s not funny.”

“It’s a wee bit funny,” he says, making his accent thicker to drive the point across.

She narrows her eyes at him.

“Fine, consider it a downpayment.”

“For what?” Her hands come to rest on her hips, her mouth pursing, and she can see he’s fighting back a comment.

“For all the coffee I’m going to order,” he says matter of factly, a curl slipping underneath his lenses, and she has to dig her nails into her palm not to reach out and move it out of his eyes.

“I’m never going to get rid of you, am I?” She sighs, her annoyance rising at the same rate as her hope.  He was persistent, she’d give him that.  But it was only a matter of time until he got bored of whatever game he was playing and left.

“Not so long as ye’ll have me,” and there’s no hint of a grin with this, and she feels a warmth spread over her.

“Yeah, well…” she fumbles for words.  “I’m not allowed to kick people out so…”

“So…I guess we’ll be seeing a lot of each other,” he says, pulling out a book, the cover having been removed, so she can’t see what it is he’s reading.

“Great,” her sarcasm out in full force with an obviously fake smile.  “I’ll go get your coffee.”

“Jamie,” he says, almost a whisper.

“What?”

“You called me James, but my friends and family call me, Jamie,” he explains, licking his lips.

“Well, I am neither, James.”

And she swears she hears him mutter something in Gaelic as she walks away.

The music makes its way further and further from her as the water rises up against her ears, every subtle movement sending a wave crashing against her, a euphoric sensation trickles through her as the spray of the water beats down, slowly taking over her body.

Their routine becomes the same, every day James shows up, is seated at the exact same table in her section all the way in the back of the restaurant, with the same book, the same order of coffee.  Some days he’ll come in with his glasses already on, other days, he’ll pull out the case he has tucked in his pocket before diving into his book, always pausing whenever she approaches the table.

He attempts to engage her in conversation, but she knows how this goes, it’s only a matter of time before he gets bored and moves on.  So she carefully avoids answering anything about herself, the walls around her built high and sturdy.

She lets her hands rest on the surface, a delicate balance between rising to the top and pressuring herself to the bottom.  Her eyelashes feel heavy against her, wet and clumped, she teeters on the verge of being fully submerged and choosing to let her lips peek just above the surface.

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” She’d asked one day, and he’d laughed, claiming his film was still in pre-production. And for as much as she acted annoyed at his appearance every day, she found it oddly comforting to have something to look forward to, although she’d never admit as much to herself.  She found she didn’t dread coming into work as much, waking up before Adso clawed her, a “bounce in her step” as Gillian had noticed, only to be quickly denied by Claire.  The banter between her and James had become one of few interactions she had throughout the week that wasn’t with either a pet or a coworker.  He was careful not to cross the invisible line she’d set for them, but he’d notice when she came to work one day with her hair braided, rather than it’s usual top knot or the bandage on her finger (from her cat) to which he’d perked up at getting a piece of information about her, and ever since had made it a point to ask how the “wee cheetie” was doing.  She wasn’t used to people being interested in her life, and most of the time she found herself holding her breath when he’d ask, like she was being backed into a corner with questions, her first inclination to lie or shoot back a sarcastic remark, feeling he was getting too close.  But she couldn’t deny there was a thrill there.

Plunging her head down, she imagines the struggle, how easily she could let it all go, the tiny beads of water creating tiny bursts in her ears as they spray down on the full tub she’s created.  Her eyes wide awake, refusing to close, her body tempted to buoyantly make its way to life, but her will demanding she weightily suspend herself between the choice to sink or swim just a moment longer.

“Well, don’t you smell nice today,” Gillian teases Claire as she rushes to clock in.  

Pulling on a loose curl, her friend refuses to let up.

“So you two married yet or what?”

“He’s just a customer, G,” the blush crawling on up her face, reaching for the light sprinkling of freckles giving way to the feelings she refused to admit even to herself.

“Yeah, a customer that just happens to be rich, famous, hot as fuck, and did I say rich?”

Claire rolls her eyes reaching to tie her apron on.

“Like you said, I’m not his type,” she reiterates, tossing a look that begs for the subject to be dropped.

“Fine, fine,” she backs off, holding up her hands in surrender.  “But if you don’t make a move soon, I will,” she winks.

Making her way out onto the floor, she looks to see if James has been seated, only to find his table empty.

Wiping her hands on her apron, she attempts to distract herself with her other tables, her eyes always wandering over to where she’d become accustomed to him being,  nearly snapping when the hostess seats a group at the table that’s usually reserved for the bookish redhead.  She can feel the hurt rising in her chest as the hours tick by and he never shows, and with it, comes the anger at having let her feelings reach a point where she’s actually upset at his absence.  Her mind reeling at having thought, just for a second, that maybe he could like her.  Maybe someone could actually care.  But she’d been wrong.  They were all the same.

By the time her shift ends, she’s near tears.  Beating herself up with self-loathing foolishness that has her stripping off her clothes and crawling into the shower, flicking on her music, as she settles back to her old routine, washing away James Fraser from her life.

Bursting upright, she lets the water slide from her along with her anxiety, threatening to pour over the tub and flood her floor, and that first breath, the one she found she’d been holding longer than before she’d sunk underneath, feels all too familiar, the moment she has to accept that she’s still here.  Not clean, not healed, but still here.  Another day ahead of her.

A day that didn’t include James Fraser.

[westerhos]

Our Story: Chapters 2-3

Thank you to everyone who has sent such lovely messages about this story! Happy to hear some of you are re-reading it while others are discovering it for the first time. Now for the next two chapters, which really should have been one...

[December 24th, 1990]

Their home is a modest one—a studio clinging to edges of the city, not far from where they first met. It’s an older building, mid-19th century, with pipes that freeze in the winter, burst like Scottish primrose in the summer. There is a single window on its western side, which welcomes the December-white sun at each day’s end. And it is here, lined along this sill, that Claire’s plants reach hungry towards the sky, try to trap this silver sliver of heat inside their veins.

Save for the flowers, theirs is an ascetic sort of décor. Sparse like a monk’s quarters—though Jamie and Claire hardly mind. They decorate the empty corners with their future, hatched in whispers during the night.

One day, Jamie promises, they’ll have Persian rugs and a four-poster bed. One day, they’ll own a leather sofa, its cushions like butter against Claire’s bare thighs. “And a vase!” she adds. “All fancy people have vases.”

But for now, they sleep on a musty twin cot, their belongings stored in the trunk at its foot. Jamie’s manuscripts are stacked inside, their pages marked in ballpoint scribbles and soil-dusted fingerprints. (“I canna read what this says anymore!” Jamie yells. “S’okay,” Claire says. “That paragraph was rubbish anyways.”) He’s an editorial assistant, the paltry salary worth the power of the red pen, which reshapes the written world to his liking. It buys food and rent, and covers what med school tuition Claire’s scholarship does not.

It’s a quiet life, but a happy life.

Claire yawns. “Did you know that every Christmas Eve my uncle told me a story? Made it up himself, right on the spot.”

“Are ye trying to tell me ye want a story?”

“I may be hinting at that, yes.”

“Ach,” Jamie says. Her favorite sound, every inch of him encapsulated in this strange, Scottish scoff. “Your subtly always turns me on.”

“Oh, hush. C’mon.”

He runs a hand through his hair, auburn and cinnabar limned in moonbeam.

“A good story on the spot? That’s no small amount of pressure, Sassenach.”

“How about a request then?” she offers, and Jamie raises a brow. “How about my favorite?”

“Yer favorite?”

“Don’t play coy. You know. The one you always start incorrectly? She is wearing a holiday sweater, a confection of silver bells and sequined penguins…”

“Weel, it’s a much better beginning than the ‘curl of my lips’…”

“Debatable,” Claire replies, tongue tracing the valley of his cupid’s bow.

But Jamie nods, chooses a different beginning this time: “It was immediate…”

He twists one of Claire’s curls around his finger and inhales. She still smells like the springtime, earthy and ripe, and perhaps there’s a hint of his own musk now, too. He likes it this way, enjoys finding proof of his existence somewhere beneath her skin. Permanent.

“Immediate!” Claire echoes, a one-woman Greek chorus. She is pressed into him, feeling his chest curve around her spine. It always surprises her how their bodies fit so perfectly, their limbs folding and molding to fill all their negative spaces. (And she has so many, our Claire, between her toes and between her ribs. Vacant rooms where her mother, her father, and her uncle once lived.)

“Aye, from the minute I saw ye, I ken you belonged wi’ me.”

“Mmm,” she hums, not saying, “Of course I felt the same thing,” or “Of course I loved you from the very first.” Because, of course, Jamie knows this already. (Strange, they both think, how the heart can move faster than the speed of light.)

“Speaking of which…” she says.

“Ye don’t want to hear the rest?”

“In a sec,” she replies. “But your friends seem to think we should get married. Dougal especially.”

“They do,” Jamie says softly. “And Dougal does—to him, maybe.” He brings Claire’s hand to his lips, smiles into the Christmas present he’s wrapped around her finger. A ring: one mounted pearl, taken from his mother’s necklace. (“No’ an engagement ring, mind,” though they both knew it meant forever.)

“Do you, though? Think we should get married?”

“I’ll do anything that means I can call ye mine.”

“You already can.”

“Aye, but I dinna think the law agrees wi’ you.”

“Devil take the law.”

Jamie laughs. “I reckon the Devil doesna want the law either, Sassenach. He hates the law.”

“You’re avoiding my question.”

“Which is?”

Claire turns towards him, remembers this past year together: their first date (Italian restaurant, 9PM showing of Pretty Woman), their first fight (broken coffee mugs, a noise complaint). She remembers the first time they made love in this small, crooked flat: middle of the floor, surrounded by packing boxes and crumpled newspaper. The bubble wrap had crackled beneath them—pop-pop-pop!—as if they were dancing on fireworks. (“I never want to leave this place,” she’d told him. He thought she’d meant the flat, but she’d meant his arms.)

“Which is��Well. Do you want to marry me, James Fraser?”

He squints. “Is that a proposal?”

“Yes.”

“Then why aren’t ye on your knees?”

“You bloody—”

Claire’s elbow swings towards his face, but Jamie catches it, stretches her arm back so that her palm lies flat against the wall. He rolls on top of her, leans down and lets her heart beat against his lips. Wills it into him until his blood thrums with it. The sound of their story.

“Yes,” Jamie says. “I want to marry you, Claire Beauchamp.”

“You mean Claire Fraser?”

He laughs; she smiles (they are both winners on this day).

“Aye. Beauchamp, Sassenach, Fraser.” His voice drops, a whisper: “My wife.”

[December 24th, 1991]

While Jamie and Claire’s studio remains the same, the flowers change with the turn of seasons: baby-skinned petals become felted cloth, neon-bright as they hang from a child’s mobile. The pots along the sill are gone, their soil-dust trails swiped away and their roots transplanted to a community garden. In their place, sits a collection of shiny, new tools for a shiny, new crib, which stands half-assembled beside the cot. The flower mobile blooms above it, suspended in silent wait for spring. For Faith.

Come April, Jamie and Claire will bring the sunshine into their home, no longer needing the single window and its lancing, evening light. Come April, they will have marigold walls, yellow linens, and bright rubber duckies floating in the sink. All of this for the baby that will sleep inside the shiny, new crib beneath the flowers that will never die.

Faith. This is the name they have given their future, no longer an unfurnished corner in their studio, but a growing presence inside Claire’s belly.

“Ugh!”

“That bad is it?”

“Worse than bad. I look like a whale who’s just fucked a Christmas tree.”

Jamie opens his eyes, his wife framed by his fingers, and he moves his hands to stifle a laugh.

“And a few wee penguins at that…”

“You’re not helping,” Claire whines, examining her reflection in the mirror. Rounded cheeks, rounder stomach; sharp lines blurred by months of pregnancy. All afternoon, she has scolded and cajoled, bribed and threatened, her cottons and nylons.  But the fabrics have been stubborn, loath to surrender their bodily claims to the child pushing against them.

“Jamie, I can’t go out wearing this.”

“I dinna see how you’ve much choice in the matter, Sassenach. We should've gone to Waverly yesterday,” Jamie replies. The sweater—the same one she’d worn the evening they met—hugs her stomach. Tight but still discreet, the purest flash of flesh above her waistline. “Party’s at 8. We’ve no time to go shopping for a proper outfit. It’s either that or what God gave ye.”

“Oh, wouldn’t that be a treat? A naked, pregnant woman sipping virgin egg nog in front of the buffet. Happy bloody Christmas!”

“Angus wouldna mind.”

“Well, so long as the host is happy.”

“I wouldna mind.”

Claire snorts and twirls, as if to say, “Are you sure of that?” (He is, absolutely, and to the marrow of his bones.)

Jamie sighs. “D’ye want me to wear mine too?”

“You mean your lager-stained pullover? With the Santa looks that looks like he’s got vomit in his beard?

“Aye, that’s the one.”

“Yes,” she replies, grinning. She remembers where it lies amongst the rest of their clothes, just as she remembers its wooly scratch against her breasts two years before. Jaime’s hands (so much larger than hers, even then) lifting it up and over, laying her bare beneath the fluorescent lights of his dorm room. “Yes, I want you to wear your Belligerent Santa jumper.”

Jamie nods.

“And no beer for you, either. Just store-bought non-alcoholic egg nog. My misery needs company.”

“Fair is fair.”

“And—”

“There’s more?”

“Much more.”

“Ach, weel. Anything for the most beautiful woman in the room.”

“Oh, Rupert will be so grateful you think so, Jamie.”

“What are friends for?” He draws closer, vibrating. “But what about you, Sassenach?”

“Me? You’ll look more ridiculous than I will. I’ll be peachy and taking shots of fake egg-nog!”

Claire finds the sweater and throws it to Jamie, watches him catch the frayed and wrinkled ball of it. The hem is still an unraveled spool, which she winds and winds around her finger. Once, twice, three times until it marks her skin in a pale, white ring. She pulls it taut, feels the slow draining of her finger as the blood retreats, towards her husband. Electricity between them (the pipes groan, the winter thaw come at last).

“Now,” Claire purrs, “put that on so I can take it off you.”

“D’ye think we have time?”

“Of course we do,” she says. "We always have time." (Not always, not forever.)

“Well then,” Jamie says, bowing. “Your servant, madam.”

At this point, I still had no idea where I was going with this story, and I think that’s abundantly clear here. Regardless, I was very much taken with the “romanticism” of being poor, in love, and bohemian in New York City—so these two chapters are basically my written daydreams about being a young Patti Smith. Luckily, that never happened! Although I did wind up living in a tiny long-term Airbnb with an opera singer, a grand piano that took up the. entire. living. room., and a very uncomfortable futon that I slept on for my first 6 months in Brooklyn.

These are really the last ~~happy~~ chapters for a while, which is totally a reflection of the fact that I had moved to Brooklyn and was scared, lonely, and just generally very angsty, lol. So my apologies for what lies ahead.

One closing thought: Why did I choose Pretty Woman as Jamie and Claire’s first date movie, lol? Had I just watched it? Did I just associate the ‘90s with Julia Roberts romantic comedies? Did I not bother researching other movies that came out in 1990? Your guess is as good as mine!!!

[i-need-entertainment]

Not Scary To Me Pt.2

Character: Washio x single mom reader

*I would highly recommend reading Pt.1 if you want this to make any sense*

Pt.1-Pt.3

TW- mentions of toxic relationships and divorce, sad times for my mans Washio, mutual pining

 When you got there Komori and Suna were still tormenting Sakusa and Atsumu, Hinata had arrived and was talking with Meian and Tomas and Washio had started warming up with some of his other teammates. Bokuto had also arrived, something about his oven on fire? You spent the remainder of the hour getting paperwork and legal forms done, running back and forth between the main office and the gym. 

When the match started you were finally at a point where you could do your work in one place, so you chose the gym. You loved watching the team play, for starters they were really good! And it brought back memories of when you used to watch Washio play. And he just so happened to be playing on the court right in front of your eyes. It brought back a lot of memories watching him play. While you were watching the game, you zoned out and went back to when the two of you were in your second year. 

That game had been a particularly hard one. The whole team was struggling. Bokuto was long since in his emo mode, poor first year Akaashi was struggling to get him back up to speed and Washio was having an exceptionally hard time going against this third year spiker from another school. The game ended, and Fukurodani ended up losing…luckily it wasn’t an important game, really just a practice match, but it was the first game with the new starting line up so mistakes were bound to happen. 

After the coaches gave their input/advice and the players were dismissed, Washio made his way into a secluded hallway and sat down at one of the benches. He was blaming himself, you knew he was as soon as the game ended. You quickly went up to Konoha, asking if he knew where he was. He didn’t know his friends exact location but he knew the general direction so you thanked him and went on your way. 

When you finally found him he was bent over with his elbows resting on his knees and his head in his hands. Without saying anything you had knelt down in front of him, asking him to look at you. When he did, and you saw tears in his charcoal gray eyes it took every nerve in your body to will yourself from crying. And you weren’t even the one that lost! You were quick to pull him into a hug, your resolve almost cracking when you felt his arms weakly surround you before gripping onto you tightly. 

That was the night you knew, you just knew you had fallen in love with him. But with everything going on with Ken, and school you pushed the thought aside. But now, years later watching him play again, you can feel those feelings resurface. Except now you have Emiko to think about…

”WATCH OUT!” 

Your head shot up and you let out a squeak as you ducked, narrowly missing a ball that was headed straight for your face. Washio hurriedly made his way over to you, much to the satisfaction of his teammates. “Are you okay?” You shot him a smile as you fixed your hair and what not. “I’m alright, I got plenty of practice in high school.” You gave him a cheeky smile as he dead panned, a tint of pink traveling across his face. “I only hit you with one once.” 

You laughed before you heard a ‘oops, my bad’ from who you remembered to be Suna, looking over you saw him and Komori were smirking at something. Shooting the two a glare Washio retrieved the ball and made his way over to the court, getting a nice slap on the back from Komori and a ‘nice’ from Suna. You couldn’t contain the dorky smile on your face, shaking your head as you got back to work. When it came time for a water break, the teams retreated to their respective sides of the gym. 

“So, ya got the hots for their middle blocker huh?” You looked up from handing the team their water bottles to give Atsumu a glare. “Shut up Atsumu. We were friends in high school, we hadn’t seen each other till today.” Atsumu nodded, his mouth forming an ‘oh’. “But, you do still like him, right?” You stilled at that as you quickly looked to Bokuto, Hinata slapping a hand over his mouth. “Don’t say it out loud!” You see, during one of your outings with the boys, they had asked you about your past, Bokuto telling the story of you and Washio. Or rather the ‘almost love story’ as he called it. 

Of course, none of them could be bothered to tell you he was on EJP. (They purposefully told Bokuto to come in late so he couldn’t spoil the secret. Hinata was in charge of him :0) Bokuto looked at you strangely before looking at Washio and back at you. “But if he feels the same way what’s the problem? Plus that jerk isn’t there anymore”. You crossed your arms over your chest and sighed, “It’s a little more complicated than that…” he continued to look confused until Sakusa smacked him upside the head. 

“Don’t be so simpleminded. There’s a lot of things they both need to consider. Especially with Emiko involved.” Bokuto got it then, even if the situation still made him scratch his head sometimes. The game ended with MSBY winning 3-2, but both teams played well. “Tatsuki!” The middle blocker turned to see you walking over to him. He took one last drink of his water bottle and dried his face with his towel before turning to face you. 

“Yeah?” she looked down before looking back to him, “Would you like to join Emiko and I for dinner? I just went to see her, and she was adamant ‘Mr. Washio’ came too. It’s okay if you can’t but..” He smiled and shook his head “I’d love to, just tell me when and where.” Your smile was almost blinding at this point, and to Washio it was a nice breath of fresh air. “Okay! I’ll text you the details~ I’ve gotta go, I’ll see you later?” Washio nodded his head. “See you, Y/n.” 

With one last wave she walked out of the gym and headed towards her home, after picking up little Emiko of course. Washio went back to the locker room, showered and got changed into some casual clothes (during all of which he was choosing to ignore the smirks his two younger teammates were giving him.). *bzz bzz* he looked at his phone to see a text from an unsaved number.

Y/n: Hey Tatsuki! This is Y/n. Our address is xxx xxxx St. Go ahead and come around 5:30! Can’t wait to see you

 He smiled at that last part, ‘can’t wait to see you either, Y/n.’

 Tatsuki: I’ll be there, I’m looking forward to it :)

 It was 5:13 so he exited the stadium (after telling off his nosey juniors) and made his way to the address you had sent him. You however, were not as calm. Currently you were running around the kitchen, mixing and chopping things left and right. You looked at the time ‘5:13, okay, it’s fine, this is all fine! I have time…’ You set the timer on the oven and rushed upstairs, checking in on Emiko to make sure she was fine, and taking a quick shower. Now for the hard part…what to wear. 

On one hand you were home and didn’t really want to, or need to but on the other hand the man you’ve been in love with for a good 8 years was coming to your house for dinner so…a nice sweater and overpriced leggings it is. ‘okay…it’s 5:24 so he’ll probably-‘ Your thoughts were cut short when you heard knocking at the front door. Quickly focusing your thoughts, you rushed downstairs before checking the peephole 

**ALWAYS CHECK THE PEEPHOLE/WINDOW BEFORE YOU EVER OPEN A DOOR IT IS WORTH IT. USE A DOOR CHAIN OR SOMETHING TOO IT IS WORTH THE EXTRA FEW SECONDS!!***

 and opening the door when you saw it was him. “Tatsuki! Come in!” he thanked you and walked in, removing his shoes as you led him inside. “Emiko! Mr. Washio’s here!” Looking up the stairs you heard little footsteps before you saw a small head pop out from her play room. She then made her way down the stairs and over to Washio, giving his leg a little hug before she sat down on the rug in the living room. “Dinners almost ready, you can have a seat in the living room if you want.” 

He nodded, “Do you need help with anything, don’t say no if you do I don’t mind.” You just smiled, you never could stop him from helping you. “Well, if you insist I could use some help.” The two of you moved into the kitchen, you pulling dinner out of the oven and him, with your direction of course, getting out the plates and such. “Hey Tatsuki?” he turned to look at you, “Yes?” “Could you help me get this bowl? I can’t reach it.” He just nodded before he reached up and grabbed it, unintentionally flexing his muscles which were nicely defined by the navy blue button down he was wearing. 

Averting your gaze and releasing a small ‘thank you’ you quickly resumed your previous task hoping he wouldn’t catch onto your embarrassment. “Emiko, dinner’s ready” The little girl happily made her way to the table, lifting her arms to be set in her booster seat. Setting the plates and dinner onto the table, you sat across from Emiko while Washio took the seat at the head of the table. ‘Just like a family…’

You quickly shook your head and tried to push the thought out of your head. But as the dinner went on, it kept feeling more and more normal, more and more domestic. And you were feeling…really really happy. Fulfilled. As soon as she finished her dinner, Emiko lifted her arms, her usual signal to be let out of her chair. But instead of turning to you like she usually would, she looked at Washio. “Up!” you looked at her, “Oops, up, please!” She gave him the cutest smile as her little arms reached above her head. Washio thought his soul was going to leave his body. 

Breaking himself free of his thoughts he nodded his head as he stood up, helped the little girl down from her chair and almost cried when she hugged his leg and said “Thanks Washio!” Before you could even scold her for being informal, you saw the look of pure joy on his face when he sat down. “Y’know…you must be really special if she asked you to do that, and if she hugged you.” Washio looked over to you with a confused expression, “What do you mean?” You sighed as you placed your elbow on the table and your face on your palm, eyes drifting to where your little Emiko was playing with Bunny. 

“She’s usually painfully shy, I’m lucky to get her to talk to anyone other than family, let alone kids her age.” You then turned your gaze to look at him instead, his dark eyes moving to meet yours. “It means a lot if you two just met and she’s already infatuated with you. It means a lot to me too…” The rest of the evening was spent by the two of you catching up on what’s been going on in your lives for the past 5 years. It was about eight now, Washio didn’t have a specific time he needed to go since they were allowed to head back to Hiroshima whenever since today was Thursday and he didn’t have to work tomorrow. 

(Suna and Komori convinced the coach to give them the next day off, they gotta help their mans Washio!!) And since the two of you were having so much fun, he figured he could stand to stay a bit longer. “I’m gonna put Emiko to bed, I should be down in about 15 minutes.” You told him as you picked up the sleepy toddler. “Say goodnight, Emiko.” The little girl sleepily smiled at him before lightly waving “Goodnight Washio” before she returned her head to her mother’s shoulder. 

You got her changed into her PJ’s, read her a story, and got her tucked in when “Mommy?” You paused from turning off her light, “Yes honey?” she seemed to squirm a bit. “Will I get to see Washio again? I heard you say he lived far a way…” You gave her a smile, “Yes baby, you’ll see him again.” Your daughter than put on a sleepy little smile and closed her eyes, “That’s good…night mommy.” You turned off her light and cracked the door shut, you left it open so your cat, Kitty, could get in if he so pleased and cuddle with her. “Goodnight Emiko, I love you.” You heard a drowsy, ‘love you too’ before you left to go back downstairs. 

When you came back down to the living room, you saw Washio hang up on a phone call. “Sorry I should have made sure before hand, but, do you have a ride home? It’s getting late..” he looked at you and you could have sworn he looked flustered but you let it go. He sighed before explaining the call was from his teammates, letting him know they were leaving him and to come home whenever since they had the weekend off. “Well, do you want to stay here? We have a spare bedroom and my brother left some clothes here…” He opened his mouth, probably to refuse but before he could you cut him off, “It’s no problem, really! I took the day tomorrow to spend with Emiko and I know she’d love it if you came along so, really it’s no problem.” 

You gave him ‘the look’, which just so happened to be the same ‘look’ you gave him in high school when you wanted something, knowing he couldn’t say no. “Thank you…tonight’s been really nice.” You couldn’t help the flutter his words put in your heart, choosing to channel them into a shy smile. “Me too…” Not wanting this to turn into an awkward silence you clapped your hands together. “Alright. Since you’re going to stay here, you can help me with the dishes.” Chuckling a bit he nodded his head, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt and rolling the dark blue sleeves up to his elbows. (Tell me I’m not the only one who just diEd) 

The two of you made your way to the kitchen sink. Being a middle blocker he was keen and observant, and having dealt with Bokuto’s mood swings, he was also keen and observant of people and their reactions. To be clear; he was very much aware of the way you couldn’t stop looking at his arms, it had been intentional after all. After knowing him for so long and seeing the mischievous glint in his eye and the small smile he had stuck to his face, you caught on that he was probably teasing you. ‘Two can play at that game.’ 

You inwardly smirked as you took off your sweater, revealing the tank top you had been wearing underneath (idk if you wear tank tops under your stuff bUT THIS AIN’T THAT TYPE OF STORY So you did). Turning around you lightly laughed when you saw how pink his face had gotten. “I didn’t know this was a competition” His face held a playful smirk as he joined you at the sink. Your expression matched his as you started washing and he dried. “It wasn’t until I won~” 

He shook his head but couldn’t shake the smile that had formed a permanent residence on his face since he had re-connected with you. After the dishes were done, with only a *little* splashing each other with the water, you two retired to the couch and continued your chat. It was about 10 when you decided it was a good idea to get to bed him, having played an intense game earlier in the day, agreed. You gave him some sweatpants and a shirt to wear, which were a bit snug since he was quite a bit bigger than your older brother, but he accepted them gratefully. 

After making sure everything was in order you shut off all the lights and showed him to the guest bedroom. “Goodnight Tatsuki and thank you for visiting…it’s been really nice. I hope we get to do it more often.” You said this as you gave him a hug, one he of course returned. “Thank you for having me…it means a lot…Goodnight Y/n” You nodded as you both separated, you giving him a small wave as you retreated into your bedroom shutting the door and turning off your light before getting into bed.

[thesassenachswiftie]

Lover - Chapter 9: “I Think He Knows”

❤️ Read on AO3

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5 // Chapter 6 // Chapter 7 // Chapter 8

Summary:  Claire and Jamie spend a romantic day in the city.

Notes:  This chapter is SO FLUFFY and it's my favorite so far!! Get ready to go on a date with these two lovers!

           Claire had just arrived home from work on a crisp October Monday afternoon when she felt her phone buzzing in her bag. Kicking off her shoes, she dug for it and smiled when she saw Jamie’s name and picture taking over her screen.

“Have you timed my commute, I just texted you before I left.” She was smirking as she giggled a bit, hoping he could hear the amusement in her voice although her tone was mock accusatory.

“Mebbe…“came Jamie’s bashful reply. “You have a long weekend next weekend, correct?”

“Yes, apparently our great nation is still a big fan of colonialism so I have next Monday off.”

 “So, I ken we’ve been keeping a low profile, but what would you say to spending the weekend in the city with me?” he asked a bit sheepishly. Before she could reply, he provided reasoning: “It’s a big city and we’re not so likely to be seen, not to mention it’s been several months since ya left Frank, and people are less likely to be suspicious of our relationship.”

“You, obviously don’t know Frank’s people that well,” came her bitter reply, rolling her eyes despite the fact that he could see, “but I suppose you’re right. What’s a country boy like you want to spend his last weekend here in the big city for though?”

“Weill, I may have won a wee radio contest and scored us tickets to a Sunday matinee of Wicked. I thought we could head in Saturday, and make a weekend out of it. I have a few other places in mind I’d like to take ya.” Jamie’s enthusiasm was obvious in his voice.

 “That actually sounds really nice.” Claire was beaming at the thought. “You do know I lived in the city for four years though right? Shouldn’t I be the one showing you around?”

“If ya have anywhere in mind, I’ll gladly add it to the list”

“Oh, there’s a list?” she elicited, smirking to herself.

“Aye, I fully intend to spend the weekend sweeping you off your feet, Ms. Beauchamp.” He was an architect drawing up his plans.

“Is that so?” she giggled “Well I certainly don’t intend on spending your last weekend here without you, and if you have Broadway tickets I simply can’t have you taking someone else.” she declared.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, I’d have to scalp the tickets on the street.” he chuckled back. “Or worse, give the tickets to Jenny and Ian and spend the weekend watching the bairns.”

“We certainly can’t have that!” she dramatized. Her tone shifted and her voice became gentler as she continued, “a weekend in the city with you sounds wonderful, Jamie.”

“I’m glad we’re on the same page, Sassenach. Besides, I already booked a lovely little AirBnB in Greenwich Village.”  

“Ok, if we’re going to be in The Village I have only one request.”

“Anything for you, Sassenach.”

“We have to get Murray’s bagels for breakfast at least one morning. They’re the best in the city.”

“Of course, I’ll add it to the list”

“There really is a list, isn’t there?”

“Absolutely.”

“Do you want to share the list with me?” she elicited.

“Nae, I’d rather surprise ya if it’s all the same.”

“You’re such a romantic, James Fraser.”

“Can you blame me, when I have such beautiful Sassenach to woo?” Claire just giggled in reply, glad Jamie couldn’t see her blushing over the phone. The smooth hum of her chuckle always reminded Jamie of church bells, and his heart leapt a bit hearing the noise. “I was thinking we could catch the nine AM train on Saturday morning, the AirBnB wasna available Friday night and I dinnae wanna rush you out exhausted after yer work week anyway, ya ken? If nine is too early we could push it to ten, but no later, I have a lot planned.”

“I’ll aim for nine, we can push it to ten if I oversleep.” she chuckled. “I’m really excited, I’ve always wanted to see Wicked”

“I ken. Ya told me once.”

“Of course you ken.” she chided, “you really are a romantic.”

“So I’ll see you Saturday morning?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

           As it turned out, Claire could not sleep-in Saturday morning. The excitement of spending a whole weekend with Jamie alone--a weekend in which he planned on sweeping her off her feet--was enough to have her up at the crack of dawn. Although she was awake with anticipation, she allowed herself to laze in bed for a few hours, daydreaming of the possibilities. Perhaps he would take her on a carriage ride through central park--that seemed to be what the romantic leads in all the movies would do. She didn’t understand what was going on with her. It was like she was seventeen again, all aflutter with butterflies and daydreaming about this incredible man the universe had seen fit to place in her life. Every night her mind went there, to him, his body, the feel of his hands on her own body, the taste of his kiss. Every morning, he was the first thing she thought of when she awoke.

Eventually, she stretched leisurely and slipped out from under the covers to dress and have breakfast before she left. She slipped into a pair of jeans that best accentuated her posterior, knowing it to be one of Jamie’s favorite parts of her, and a cozy form fitting sweater to combat the fall air. It was a warm day for October, and the sun was peeking through the windows as she put the last few essentials into the weekender bag she packed the night before: deodorant, toothbrush, and her phone charger. As she glanced at herself in the mirror again, she wished she’d thought to ask Jamie how to dress for the day’s events, but she had packed outfits for all occasions and figured she could change at the train station if she felt underdressed in comparison to him. It wasn’t like they would go somewhere super formal midday anyway, and she knew Jamie was thoughtful enough that he probably would have mentioned it if they were. At 9:00 Jamie texted: “So, is it the 9:00 train, or the 10:00 milady?”

           “I’ll be ready for the 9:00 😊”

           “See you soon Sassenach ❤️”

           “💗”

She arrived at the train station shortly after 8:30 and Jamie was already there waiting for her, wearing Jeans and a flannel shirt. Claire was pleased that she had dressed appropriately and her face lit up at the sight of him. God, he was handsome. He had that boyish look that she liked in a man, and his plan to sweep her off her feet was already succeeding.

----------

           An hour later, Jamie and Claire were getting off the train at Jamaica station, much to Claire’s bewilderment. “I thought we were going to Manhattan, where are you taking me?” she queried.

“All in good time, Sassenach” he replied evasively, putting his arm around her as he led her through the station to wait for their next train, “but I can let ya know we’ll be spending the better part of the day in Brooklyn before making our way to Manhattan, I’ve got somewhere I’d like to take ya.”

“Always full of surprises aren’t you?” Claire glanced up at those blue eyes she had come to find refuge in. She couldn’t believe how lucky she was to have him, to keep him despite all her mistakes and shortcomings over the course of their less than half-year relationship. She planted a sweet kiss on his firm shoulder before resting her head there as they waited for the train. A couple months ago, she had drunkenly told him she loved him in the back of an Uber. She knew her feelings had not changed in all that time, but they hadn’t told each other those three little words since that night. Part of her was afraid she would mess things up again--afraid to repeat the past and make the same mistake twice. She didn’t want to lose him again; she didn’t think she could take that pain. Mostly though, Claire was confident that Jamie was aware of her feelings and didn’t really need to be told again. Every time she thought to herself that she should say it, the moment didn’t feel right. I ain’t gotta tell him, I think he knows. Besides, it was too soon since their reunion--this iteration of their relationship was still too new for that. When she did say it, she wanted it to feel special, certainly not drunkenly blurted out, and not too casually either. However, with every little romantic gesture he did, she came increasingly closer to shouting it from the rooftops. Maybe she would reach a breaking point this weekend.

The one lingering question was that Jamie hadn’t said it either. Perhaps his feelings had changed since then, but the way he acted around her--that was hard to believe. He didn’t ruin everything by saying it last time, surely it would be easier for him to say it first this time around. His actions said it every time they were together, but she longed to hear it from his lips. She secretly hoped he would reach his breaking point first.

----------

           By late morning, Jamie and Claire had arrived at their destination. They stowed their bags in a rented locker and Jamie led Claire on a brief walk to their destination: The Brooklyn Botanic Garden. Jamie knew Claire had a passion for gardening and an interest in botany and had been wanting to take her there for months. Since before they even got together, if he was being honest with himself. Claire’s face said it all when they started to enter the gates and Jamie paid their admission--she was beaming and truly touched by this thoughtful adventure they were embarking on. “Have ya ever been here, Sassenach?”

“You know, you think I would have made it here when I lived in the city, but I rarely ventured across the East River. A part of me wishes I had, but I’m glad to experience it with you for the first time.” They stared into each other’s eyes for a moment and shared a brief but passionate kiss just inside the entrance, not caring who was around to see.  

They began walking down the main tree-lined path around the perimeter of the grounds.  It was a crisp fall day, cool enough for a sweater, but the midday sun was warming everything it touched making the weather perfectly pleasant for spending outdoors. The air smelled of leaves and everything seemed to be shimmering with autumnal brilliance. The couple wandered slowly through the Shakespeare garden. “I thought with your English heritage you’d like to see a proper English garden.” Jamie smiled at her as they strolled hand in hand along the quaint cobblestone path. Although many of the flowering plants were long since dormant, the trees were all the fiery shades of reds and oranges and there were small sprays of purple asters dotting the landscape. Jamie couldn’t help but think of the stone path behind his English cottage, and the beautiful garden Claire could make there to rival this one. He hoped she was drawing inspiration for her own English garden. Claire, meanwhile, was enjoying reading the Shakespearian poems and quotes on placards throughout the gardens, mentioning the plants that grew there. Her English heritage did in fact give her a soft spot for the bard.

They seemed to be the only two people in this particular garden, and stopped to sit on a roofed bench tucked beneath a flaming oak tree. Claire just sat, breathing deeply and taking it all in--the foliage, Jamie’s lyrical smile and indigo eyes, his hand on her thigh. Everything seemed so perfect. “Jamie, this is so lovely. Thank you for bringing me here.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yerself, Sassenach, we’re only just getting started though. I have much more planned for you, mo chirde” Jamie gently stroked Claire’s cheek as they got lost in each other’s eyes, lips drawing closer together. They kissed each other in the shade of the towering oak—a slow, languid kiss, tongues softly caressing. With no one else around and the whole day ahead of them, there was no rush to move on to their next stop and they could linger in the moment. Of course Claire was eager to see the rest of the gardens, and she knew Jamie surely had it all planned out, but for now she was just content to bask in his affections. When they finally separated and slowly got up to walk back to the main path, Jamie asked “are ya hungry?”

“Ravenous!” she exclaimed, throwing herself at him and nibbling on his earlobe.

“I meant for lunch, you wee vixen!” he exclaimed, playfully grabbing her arse.

“Mmmm… I know what you meant. I could eat.” She smirked.

“There’s a wee cafe a bit down the path, I thought we could grab a bite before I show ya more of the gardens.”

“That sounds perfect.” Came Claire’s enthusiastic reply. Jamie really did have the day planned out, even anticipating that they would need to eat. Claire was consistently touched by his thoughtfulness and attention to detail.

----------

           The Yellow Magnolia Café was a modern, comfortable space set inside one of the greenhouses, which allowed for expansive views of the foliage outdoors through the glass walls and ceiling. They were lucky enough to get a table near the window as they enjoyed a seasonal brunch and coffee. Claire offered to pay, but Jamie refused to let her, insisting that this weekend was his plan, his treat. If she wanted, she could treat them to bagels the following morning since that was her idea, but nothing else. Over brunch, they chatted about their everyday lives, conversation always coming naturally between them. Jamie shared stories of his niece’s and nephew’s shenanigans over the course of the week. Claire had a few stories to share as well, mostly second hand, of the ridiculous things that had happened within the walls of the high school she worked in. Being sequestered in the nurses office all day, she was isolated from most of the antics of the hallways and cafeteria, but Jo kept her updated on the latest drama, pranks, and stories amongst the teens she cared for.

By the end of brunch, they were both in high spirits--basking in the comfort of being around each other. Claire felt less giddy than she had earlier. She was still excited by the prospect of the rest of the weekend, but she just felt so comfortable around Jamie that she was able to feel calm in his presence. This was positive, because the constant waves of butterflies she had been feeling earlier would not have been sustainable, she much preferred the occasional butterfly to flutter through her gut throughout the day instead of the swarm.

They strolled through the indoor gardens and greenhouses, enjoying being able to see exotic flowers like orchids, bonsai trees and tropical plants, flourishing in the midst of the seasons changing outdoors. It was wonderful to think how life could thrive while everything outside seemed to be dying in one last radiant swan song of color. It was nice to know things still found a way with a little help, with a little shelter, and a little love. Claire found all three of these things in Jamie’s arms, and although it pained her to think of their coming separation, she knew it would not break them. She knew the winter would end, and like the flowers outside, he would come back to her in the spring, where their love would bloom more brilliantly than ever before.  

Jamie led Claire back out into the crisp fall air and led her to the Japanese garden.  It was stunningly picturesque. The garden was situated around a small lake with small bridges, statues, arches and lookout points dotting the landscape. Trees arched their way over the paths, in dazzling shades of red and gold. It was as if all the colors of autumn sought to congregate around the glass surface of the lake and the picture of it nearly took Claire’s breath away as she and Jamie strolled. This part of the garden was more crowded than the Shakespeare garden, but they still managed to steal kisses along the way, ducking behind trees, or following narrow, less traveled paths with winding steps leading to shady alcoves. “Jamie, this is so beautiful, I’m so glad you took me here.” Claire professed as they stopped at a lookout spot along the path near a waterfall and took in the views of the lake, arms wrapped around one another.  

“I’m so glad, mo nighean donn” Jamie replied, planting a soft kiss in her curls. Claire had released one of her arms from him and was using it to take pictures of the scenery on her phone. “Claire,” Jamie interjected sheepishly, “could we take a selfie together?”  Her face lit up as she spun around and pulled her phone out ahead of them, adjusting the angle to try to get the background and their faces in the shot. “Allow me” Jamie insisted, taking the phone from her.  His long arms allowed for the perfect shot, their heads tucked in close, midafternoon sunshine lighting up their beaming smiles, and a bonfire of fall leaves and sparkling blue lake behind them. Jamie texted the picture to himself before handing Claire’s phone back to her.  It was strange that they had never taken a selfie together before. He had several pictures of her saved on his phone from times they were together, mostly taken in his bed or at his breakfast table. She too had some of him, tucked away in a secret folder on her phone in case prying eyes tried to find them, but they had never taken a picture together until now. It made their relationship feel official somehow, real. They knew the picture wouldn’t be posted to social media or anything like that, it was still a delicate situation--Claire having broken off her engagement to Frank less than six months ago--but just having the picture privately between them was enough.

The couple continued to wander through the garden, through winding tree lined paths, past a luminous yellow tree that smelled of maple syrup, and along wide promenade flanked by cherry trees, brilliant orange and gold in the autumn sunlight.  “Do you think it’s just as lovely in the spring as in the fall? I can’t think of anything more beautiful than this, but cherry blossoms are spectacular.” Claire wondered out loud.

“We’ll have to come back in the spring and find out” Jamie replied, caressing her shoulder.

“I’d like that very much” came her reply, wrapping her arms around him and burrowing close to his chest. They had been walking for several hours, enjoying the sights as much as each other's company. They laughed and talked and told stories of times before they met, holding hands or wrapping arms around waists as they strolled. It was really turning out to be the perfect autumn day.

“I have one more place I’d like to show ya.” Jamie declared, leading her down from an overlook they had been standing atop, looking out over the cherry trees.

“A rose garden?” she giggled as he led her under a white-painted trellis tangled with thorny branches. “In mid-October? They’re not likely to be in bloom this late in the season.”

“I ken, and I have every intention of bringing ya back here to see them bloom in late spring, but there’s something I want to show you now, today.” he was smiling, but his confidence wasn’t as apparent as it had been earlier that day. For the first time, he seemed a bit apprehensive. In truth, he was second guessing if a garden full of bare rose bushes was the best locale for a romantic gesture. The fall foliage was still on display in the distance outside the garden, and the architecture of the trellises and arch ways still led to a romantic atmosphere, but there definitely wasn’t much to look in the way of flowers. He wanted to tell her how he felt, to lock it down, he was worried if he didn’t she wouldn’t stick around. The good ones never wait.

Claire interrupted his thoughts, “It sort of reminds me of The Secret Garden. Have you ever read it?”

“No, but Jenny had the movie on VHS when we were kids, I recall it somewhat.”

“It’s just, it’s dormant and we’re the only ones here, it feels like we’ve happened upon an abandoned garden, all to ourselves.” she smiled.

Jamie felt instantly at ease. She knew just what to say to assuage his doubts. He was feeling more confident as he led her under a pergola at the far end of the garden and down a set of stone steps. This part of the rose garden was smaller, situated around a statue in the center. The statue was of a woman in a thin dress that left little to the imagination, bowing over a large bouquet of roses in her arm, taking in their sweet scent. In her other arm, she held a sundial with a butterfly shaped gnomon. Jamie led Claire to the statue, palms sweaty in spite of the temperate weather. Near to the statue, a rosebush with a single, late blooming pink rose greeted the couple.

“There’s a rose for ya, mo charide” he gestured to it, stroking the soft petals.

“The flower that blooms in adversity is the most rare and beautiful of all” she lilted.

“What a beautiful piece of poetry.”

She giggled, “it’s from Mulan, one of my favorites when I was a girl.”

“You shouldn’tha told me, so I could’ve kept thinking ya were a masterful wordsmith,” he teased, smirking.

Claire sighed dramatically, “I guess I’ll just resign myself to knowing you think less of me.  How can I ever live with that knowledge?” she couldn’t help smirking though she was trying to feign taking offense. She knew he was so obsessed with her and boy, she understood the feeling.

“Aw Claire, I could never think less of ya” he pulled her close and wrapped her in his arms, locking his blue eyes on her whiskey ones. “Not ever” he whispered.  Instead of drawing her in for a kiss, as she expected, he pointed her attention to the statue. “Do ya notice anything about this statue, Claire?”

“She looks cold” Claire chuckled, noting the statue’s erect nipple peeking through her gauzy dress. Strange how something made of metal could be considered gauzy--sculptors were truly impressive people.

Jamie chuckled at her observation, “maybe on the sundial, perhaps?”

Claire took a closer look, there were words inscribed on the sundial, she read them out loud, slowly “Perennis amor. Hmm.”

“Do ya ken the meaning?”

“Hmm… amor means” she hesitated for a moment, looking up at him, “love.” meeting his eyes, she saw that very word reflected in them, “and perennis…” She thought about making a penis joke, but didn’t think it was right for the moment, even if it was something that was on her mind, “like perennial, plants that come back year after year… constant, lasting”

“Eternal.” he finished for her, “eternal love.” her breath caught as he placed his thumb under her chin, meeting her eyes again. “That is what I have for ya, Claire. I love you, and I won’t stop loving you, ever. I ken we have a wee separation ahead of us, but whenever ya find yerself having doubts or fears about that Claire, I want ya to remember these words.” He brought the hand that was not on her face to the engraved surface of the sundial briefly, returning it to her waist.

Claire’s heart was racing, and the swarm of butterflies had returned to her stomach. Her eyes found his again after following his hand. “Oh Jamie,” she sighed, still feeling breathless “I love you too.” Jamie’s face broke into a smile and he drew her in for a long lingering kiss, gently caressing her tongue with his own, running his fingers through her curls and along her cheek bones.

When they eventually broke away he explained, “just like these roses are mostly gone, we may not be together much in the winter, but this love will still be there like the rose bushes we’re surrounded by. They’re not going anywhere, and we will blossom together again Claire. Always. I mean to make this work, I ken it willna be easy, but I’m gonna make every effort to keep ya.”

“I understand, it won’t be easy, but I will look forward to spring, when we can see the roses in bloom together. I’m not going anywhere; I’ll wait for you to come back.”

----------

           Claire and Jamie left the gardens and took a cab to a Deli on 16th Avenue for a quick dinner before heading back to the subway to Manhattan. They enjoyed their dinner, basking in the glow of their love. They probably looked like two teenagers, making eyes at each other and linking hands across the table. They both had goofy smiles plastered on their faces as they ate and talked. While they were waiting for their food, Claire couldn’t help but notice Jamie’s hands around a cold glass of soda. She remembered noticing them the first night she met him--it had been a glass of whiskey then, but the effect of it was still the same. Seeing how large his hands were compared to the glass, she imagined them on her body, stroking her in the most intimate places. Those hands make me want to know that body like it’s mine. This is where her thoughts went as she stared at those large hands, as they had that first night. The difference between then and now, was that now she knew exactly how those hands would feel on her, and it was more pleasurable than she could have imagined. Whenever they were alone in his apartment, she made herself at home and he always wanted her to stay. Now they knew they had each other’s hearts, futures, and love as well as each other’s bodies. Claire was most assuredly looking forward to the added layer of intimacy their evening would have.

Leaving the restaurant and walking with Jamie down the sidewalk, Claire felt that his footprints on the sidewalk were leading her to where she couldn’t stop: couldn’t stop thinking of him, couldn’t stop wanting him, couldn’t stop loving him. Yes, it was complicated; yes, it didn’t make practical sense; yes, they were going to be separated by an ocean soon, but none of that seemed to matter right now. Right now, they were together and he had her heartbeat skipping down 16th Avenue. She felt so giddy, she wanted to actually skip down the street, hand in hand with Jamie shouting “look! We’re in love”. Her heart just felt so light, like she was on another plane, transcending the real world into something magical, deep and fiery. Through the connection of their entwined fingers, it was like they shared one pulse, one heart. They were no longer two separate people, they were two halves of a whole, truly themselves when they were together like this. “Jamie I’m so happy.”

“I ken what you mean Sassenach,” she could tell he was serious, but then his tone shifted “I am quite the catch after all” he teased.

“Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be.” she said, tugging at his shirt collar as they waited for the Uber to take them back to the train station. “I wanna see what’s under that attitude.” she whispered coyly. She was following the sparks he was giving off to wherever they would take them. They couldn’t get to the AirBnB fast enough. He captured her in a passionate kiss, tongues dancing, exploring, hands roaming and taking in the shapes of each other. When they pulled away she whispered in his ear “I want you, bless my soul.” Just then, their intimate moment was interrupted by their Uber’s arrival. As they got settled in the back seat Claire whispered in the dark, “So where we gonna go?”

[casualotptrash]

Why the Persona 3 FES vs Portable Debate Makes Me Want to Fly Into the Sun Pt. 3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Da da da daaa!

Part 3 of this lovely emotional rant is here, for anyone who wants to spend their time reading these. With the last two posts, I have mostly tried to be informative or just complain a bit about why this debate makes me want to fly into the sun, but for this post it’s going to go a little different. Perhaps a bit more subjective than the others.

In this post, I’m going to go over everyone's favorite clusterfuck...a definitive version of Persona 3.

Now, as we established in the previous post, we know that the argument of FES vs Portable is essentially pointless because everyone’s opinion on either game is subjective. However, I have neglected to bring up this topic that puts a huge ass nail into this dusty old coffin: the fact that there is objectively no definitive version of Persona 3.

Everyone can argue all day and night about which version of P3 is better, but no one can deny that either version are “definitive.” By definitive, I mean that the game has the most content that is offered, like Persona 4 Golden or Persona 5 Royal. The reason none of the P3 games are definitive is because base P3 lacks stuff from FES and Portable, FES lacks stuff fro Portable, and Portable lacks things from FES. It’s a gamble of whether you want to experience cutscenes, an overworld, and The Answer, or a whole new route with the FeMC and the brand new option of dating male party members and saving...you know who.

One might be able to say FES is definitive because it has The Answer, which I believe is considered canon according to the Arena games. Another could say Portable is the definitive version because it came out after FES, added the FeMC (who is technically canon as per the second Persona Q game), and removes The Answer (which a lot of people said The Answer messed with the core theme of P3). However, the definition of definitive in this case, and with all of the other games, is that the game offers the most content. Arguably, FES and Portable provide the same amount of content, just in different ways. This is why this whole conversation of which one is better, or which to play first, spawned in the first place.

The reason I am bringing this up in this post, about why this whole discussion physically pains me, is because having a real, definitive version of the game could finally put this discussion to rest. At least, it somewhat would. People would probably still argue that FES is the best for some reason.

Now, the argument becomes...well, what does a definitive version of Persona 3 look like?

I have seen quite a bit about this topic, and people seem to really miss some common sense points. For example, they get caught up in whether it would be considered a remake or a remaster. I know some use those terms interchangeably, but the “official” definition for each is that a remake is a game that is made from scratch, while a remaster is made by updating the existing assets and engine. For example, the upcoming Nocturne HD release is a remaster. Personally I find it difficult to neatly fit the typical persona definitive editions, like Golden and Royal, into either of these categories. It may just be me not fully grasping the differences between the two, but I believe they would fit into more of the “remaster” category. It is true that there are new assets and content being added to the game, but it’s so minor that I’m not sure it could be considered a remake. On the other hand, because new content is added it couldn’t just be defined as a remaster because typically the effects and such aren’t even changed that much. It’s just gameplay and story content that is tweaked.

When people get so caught up in what it would be considered, logic seems to...go out the window? For example, in a debate between a P3 remaster or remake, a person made a comment that if a remake was to happen then people would demand that all of the social links be available to anyone. Now, that just isn’t possible for a variety of reasons. There’s no way we could ever mix and match social links to get a preferred grouping. Another issue with this is that if just a remaster was made, then one of the two games would be left out.

This is why I don’t really think about whether a definitive edition is a remaster or remake, because using such strict labels make it harder to judge what could, or should, be in one. This is why I’m just referring to this process as making a definitive edition. That being said, I would consider a definitive P3 game to be more of a remake (not that it really matters) because my ideas would essentially combine FES and Portable, in a way?

So here we go, into my idea of what a definitive version of Persona 3 would look like. (Warning: This will contain spoilers for all of the P3 story and *gasp* may be a bit biased toward Portable because I like it more)

1. Presentation

In simple terms, I would want the game to essentially be Portable...but with updated graphics, cutscenes from FES, and an overworld. It’s easier to use Portable as a base because it’s already closer to the format of P4 and P5, so then adding in the good parts of FES with the cutscenes and overworld are par for the course. As far as graphics go, I would like the models and environment to look more like P3D (aka whatever engine they used for Persona 5?) because damn did the characters get a glow up.

2. Gameplay

Along with the format of Portable, I would also want the gameplay of Portable to be in this definitive version. That means no jealousy system, no fatigue until after you leave tartarus, the vision quest, and the other changes I mentioned in the first post. Sorry FES fans, but yes...I would still want the option of controllable party members. However, a new change that should be added is backup members earning exp. I don’t think baton passes or anything should be added, we don’t want a clone of P5, and the combo attacks in P3P kind of fill this role anyway. The idea of having social links give certain perks with ranks, like how confidants work in P5, is interesting but I don’t think it would be necessary. I would also say that the soundtrack should be exclusive for each side, like how it is in Portable, and that there should be an option to choose which skills are inherited.

3. Social Links

The stance I would take with social links would essentially be how Portable did it, but with a slight tweak. No matter how much it would be cool to date Rio or Saori as the Male MC, or vice versa with Kaz or Keisuke and FeMC, I don’t think any mixing of the two sides would really be feasible. However, I would love to see cameos of those characters in the opposing routes. For example, you see Yuko and Kaz in the female route, but in the male route you could see Saori and Rio at school. That being said, and this is probably one of the biggest issues, I would want the male protag to be able to have social links with the entire party, men included. This brings up the issue of what social links you would cut out because you can’t have two social links be the exact same arcana. Unless they want to add more arcanas to the game, which would probably not go over well either, the best option is probably to prioritize the male party members and then have who would usually be in their place just show up sometimes. For example, Kenji would show up in the social link with Junpei instead of the magician social link just being about one or the other.

I know this seems weird, but it does kind of avoid shafting one or the other. If it was too hard to fit the two together (such as Chihiro and Ken both being Justice), perhaps a few more school scenes could be added where the MC interacts with the school friends that are not seen as much (Kenji, Chihiro, etc.) However, and this might piss off 1% of people but whatever, but the moon arcana with Nozomi (Gourmet king dude) could just be completely taken over by Shinji. Nozomi is a meme, but he is not needed in any way. Also, I would prioritize Yuko in the male route over Koromaru since, although he is a very good boy, he is still a dog. Also, please get rid of the option that you’re forced to romance every girl in the male route, and personally I would say keep in the fact that you cannot date Junpei. In a headcanon sort of way, I totally dig the idea of the MC being able to help Junpei through his rough time after Chidori dies (if she dies?) and feelings grow from there, but from a story perspective I think it’s integral to his character that he friendzones the player if they try.

So TLDR; who the social link is about would mainly stay true to the original route (male route with Kaz, etc. and female route with Rio, etc.), however in the male route the party members would take priority (so Akihiko would take the star arcana place and Mamoru (track guy) would just be featured in the link sometimes), and in both routes Shinji would take Nozomi’s place as the moon. Important note that besides including the other character, the main substance of the social link shouldn’t be changed; aka they should not change the format of the social links to operate more like P5 social links where the MC is just solving all of their problems.

(Sidenote: This is imply my idea on how to include party members into the social links for the male route, however if they just decided to keep the social links the exact same as Portable with no male party member social links with the male route then I’d be fine with that too. It wouldn’t really take away from the game as a whole for me, personally.)

4. Romance Options

Riding off of the social link talk...and I know this is like the least likely option of happening, but please make some gay options Atlus? If we can romance every single girl in the male route, why not just add the romance option for the men too? Yes yes there’s the whole argument about the issue of “making everyone bi” (thanks for erasing sexuality that care more about connections rather than gender?), but I say look no further than how Dragon Age 2 did it. Every romanceable option in that game can be romanced be either the male or female main character (barring a DLC character who is only romanceable by females), and it works just fine. Turns out, no one really gives a shit if it’s “realistic” enough (aka only having one or no bi/gay people apparently?) because it’s a video game and people want to romance whoever they want...because it’s a video game. Even if you really, really don’t like this approach there is also the option of going the Dragon Age Inquisition route, where characters are able to be romanced by certain genders and not by others (race also plays a role in this in the game, since there are elves and other fantasy races and such, but this is not applicable to Persona obviously). This is simply a hypothetical example, but how this would work is that like Fuuka can only be romanced by the Male MC, Akihiko and Yukari could be romanced by either MC, and Mitsuru could only be romanced by the FeMC. Obviously social links specific to a run would be a romanceable option to the MC in their route (as in Yuko would only be romanceable by Male MC because she’s only in her run, and social links like Saori could be a romance for FeMC because she’s specific to her route). I have a gut feeling this would cause an even bigger uproar with the fandom, so having any romance option (barring route specific social links for the route they’re not in) be available for either male or female MC is the best option in my opinion.

Take out Ken’s romance option altogether though. I know some of the language is different, so it doesn’t say you “spend a long night together” or whatever, but that doesn’t really make it any better. I do think it’s fine if Ken has a crush on the MC, and maybe has a whole Kenji thing of thinking they are together cause he’s 10 and kids can be like that, but the MC wouldn’t actually act on this and the player could be given the choice to actively dissuade Ken. The only good thing that came out of Ken’s romance option was the fact that him and Akihiko can argue in Tartarus if you romance them both, and I don’t want to lose that hilarious dialogue.

5. Tartarus

Tartarus...uh...to be honest I’m not really sure what to do with this beast. It’s boring and tedious in the first place, probably by design for symbolism in the game, but I’m not sure how to make it interesting without copying the dungeon/palace format. Perhaps the blocks could be restructured to act more like a big puzzle that needs to be solved, like certain sections of palaces in P5, but also have bosses and shadows thrown in. For example, perhaps one block could be more reminiscent of hide-and-seek stealth tactics while another is formatted like a series of arena-esque gladiator fights. Also probably lower the number of floors you need to climb? It gets a bit ridiculous when you realize there are 264 floors of Tartarus and 99% of them are the same but just with more funky music and slightly different decorations. This job is suited for someone with actual video game making experience though, and not me.

6. Awakenings and Pacing

Let’s talk about some quick fixes to awakenings and pacing of the game. Now, since this is a definitive version and not a true remake, I wouldn’t want them to rewrite the entire story or something. Most of the party member’s original awakenings happen off screen, which can be kind of lackluster. The MC’s and Fuuka’s are the only two we really see, and those moments were really cool in my opinion. Obviously we wouldn’t see Mitsuru’s, Akihiko’s, or Shinji’s original awakenings, but that is fine. Yukari and Junpei also fall into this boat because Yukari awakens before the MC gets to the dorm, and it would be hard to show Junpei’s awakening while also having his whole “reveal” moment when he comes to the dorm to live there. I don’t know if it’s ever mentioned when Ken awakens to his persona, but making a scene to show both his and Koromaru’s would be helpful instead of just saying Ken has the potential and he’s joining, and hearing about Koromaru awakening but not actually seeing it. As for the pacing, I’m mainly talking about the summer time where you can’t hang out with a good number of social links. I would just change this so that you can hang out with school social links during this time more readily, like if they’re just hanging out somewhere in town if they’re not at school. Like I said, this isn’t a remake (and I’m not a video game designer) so I didn’t want to get into how to fix the overall pacing of the story, which can be pretty slow until October or so. My one suggestion is maybe adding in a few extra scenes with Strega before October so it’s not like we run into them a couple times and suddenly they’re a major villain.

7. Shinjiro

(Spoilers for after October) I know certain people will definitely not like this point, but I think the option to save Shinji should remain in the game (and Chidori too). I’ll go into this in another post, but my main reason for keeping this in is because some people really do like this option, so it would be kind of unfair just to get rid of it because other people don’t like it. However, I would suggest a change to his social link so that there is the option to save him or not while also being able to complete the social link. Perhaps after rank 10 would be when you could give him the pocket watch, so that people could get the rank 10 and not be forced to save him. 

8. Extra Content

(Spoilers for the ending of Persona 3 and The Answer) Each definitive version has extra content in the “third semester” (because Persona 4 and 5 both essentially end after December), but in Persona 3 the natural game ends in January. I am not sure if they would try to add another whole months or so on, but because The Answer already exists, but I assume they wouldn’t add extra content in February or something for the MC. For The Answer, I would keep this in the game as sort of the “extra content” but add a FeMC version of this. Obviously it would be largely the same, except with the FeMC and perhaps the male party members could get more of a focus since the female party members get a larger focus in the male route (ie. Yukari breaking down with the keys. Maybe Junpei or Akihiko could take on this role as the people who don’t want to let go). Also, as a possible new addition to The Answer, Shinji could be a part of it if he is saved during the main game. In the NG+ run of Portable FeMC route, if you romance Shinji he comes to the rooftop for that final scene, so in a way it could be possible for him to recover by the time The Answer happens in March.

Now, if Atlus decided to add a more typical “extra content” thing, I hope they wouldn’t try to cram The Answer in on top of that unless they were able to do it cohesively. It might be a lot to have the whole ending of the game in January, come up with a reason to have extra content in February (presumably with the MC still alive, but also combat would need to be a part so then the issue arises of Tartarus coming back or something?), and then have the answer take place right after near the end of March.

Well that’s the end of that I think. This will also be the last post in this little “series” because I pretty much went over everything about this debate that makes me want to fly into the sun. I know the things I talked about in these posts will probably never stop, but I really hope that if a definitive version comes out at least the discussion will change to saying what is good or bad about each game rather than FES supremacy or whatever. That being said, above all I really hope this debate doesn’t discourage new fans from Persona 3 or the series in general, because that would probably be the worst outcome from all of this. It’s a great game, and it’s a shame that the game itself is kind of held back by being split into two (I’m not counting base Persona 3) different forms.

[metatexualart]

Digimon Adventure 02 as Queer Allegory

((I usually reserve this blog for occult analysis but I’ll probably be writing about Digimon on here later anyways))

Digimon is really gay, like i don’t know a single straight fan tbh. But I was rewatching season 2 and wow it’s been a while but this season is exceptionally queer. Here were a few notes that stood out to me.

The kids regularly travel between the real and digital world just as (closeted) queer kids feel the tear between their external world and their inner truth. You can also read it as them logging into a safe space, such as an lgbtq chat room or forum, which were peaking in popularity at the time this show aired. But they need to be careful because there might be predators in that chat. (Arukenimon, mummymon, oikawa, and ken)

The 3 new kids manifest really weird fashion when they enter the Digimon world but the original cast doesn’t because they’re already self actualized. This change of clothes almost literally homages the idea of “coming out of the closet”

Normal digivolution doesn’t work, so the kids must discover new ways to digivolve. Digivolution isn’t a major analoge for sex, but it does represent the spiritual and emotional growth of the children, and this new way of being paraelles the lgbtq+ civil rights movement. They do things differently

Not to mention, this new way of digivolution is called Armor digivolution, and most of the cast gets at least 2 armor digivolutions. Because if the nature of armor digivolution, it appears that the Digimon are literally wearing a costume rather than simply transforming their being. There are many queer paraelles to this, including searching for your true identity, code switching, and even drag.

Armor digivolution comes from the armored digi eggs, at least that’s what they’re called in the dub. Eggs being a symbol of the divine feminine, they’re getting in touch with their feminine qualities. (Not to mention the first egg seen has a big bladed phallus protruding from it)

Yolie is a lesbian. That’s not even a stretch, the way she interacts with Mimi the first time they meet is very very gay. The dub has her saying stuff like “I wish Mimi was my big sister” while showing images that imply much more than sibling hood. She’s also the first digidestined to have an opposite gender Digimon partner. For a middle schooler, she’s very butch coded. Especially relative to Sora who was the original tomboy who struggled with traditional gender roles. silphymon is also the only mixed gendered dna digivolution, which sounds heterosexual at first, but it makes silphymon explicitly an androgenous Digimon (Digimon are canonically biologically not sexual but they are inarguably gender coded)

The Digimon emperor (ken) erects a bunch of black towers that prevents digivolution and invokes mind control on the Digimon who have been collared by his black rings. He built a bunch of phallic structures that cock blocks everyone’s good time and to repeat: LITERALLY COLLARS EVERYONE. Most of these paraelles are pretty allegorical and can be interpreted many different ways but this part is almost explicit in its meaning. It screams of BDSM and, even though digivolution isn’t a direct paraelle to sex, chastity play. He’s also the one most overtly living a double life style.

The kids later discover that there are other digidestined kids poping up all over the world. They’re discovering there are more people like them. If you’re queer then you know exactly what I mean.

Blackwargreymon has an entire arc dedicated to his identity crisis, which is pretty one note considering this season is full of identity crisis themes. You could parallel it to the problems of racial discrimination within the lgbtq community, but I probably wouldn’t lol (need to rewatch that arc before I really analysis it)

In conclusion, I always remembered season 2 as the worst season, but rewatching has made me appreciate it more. I totally understand why it’s a fan favorite, especially among bi and trans fans specifically. I also see why furries are really into season 2 too. Every season has anthromorphs out the ass but season 2’s armor digivolutions as fursuits unfortunately, can’t be unseen (especially since it leaves the main cast with both a humanoid form and a much more animalistic form)

Bonus:

Arukenimon and Mummymon are gay icons the same way Jesse and James from Pokémon are fucking fight me over this