#especially when you're given little to no canon on the character

[pathetichimbos]

I completely understand why it's inappropriate and wrong to police peoples internet experience and how they view their favorite characters and what not but it's also extremely important to understand that if someone throws away a character's personality and important traits away to shove their own ideologies and beliefs into them to 'mold' them into a 'perfected' version of themselves then it's often a tell tall sign of how they treat their personal relationships.

The internet has become a fictitious reality with virtually no consequences and a lot of people can no longer dictate fiction from reality.

Obviously this does not apply to everyone, just because someone molds and changes a character in fiction does not guarantee they will do it in real life, but also be aware that reality dictates fiction, and if they're willing to do it (to the extreme) in fiction, some part of them would be willing to try it in real life.

[habken]

If you're willing to share can you give a few reasons why you think Bakudeku works so well as a ship? (I also ship them and love your art!)

okay...

I think they just naturally fall into each other’s orbit. Living in each other's minds rent free 24/7. Their entire lives are so intertwined. Even when things were bad between them, there's never been a point where they haven't been part of each other's life in some capacity.

They've influenced each other so much you can see little habits they share and behaviours they've picked up from one another. Izuku acting more like Katsuki when he wants to win is the obvious one, but even little things like the way they think out loud and pinch their lips and stuff are similar.

I don't think it's right to undermine Katsuki's bullying and the falling out between them, but coming from a place where there's a lot of animosity and hurt and then having that turn into a relationship where they both mutually care for each other and challenge each other to do better and be better is really interesting.

I think that's part of the reason it's such a compelling relationship in general, not just in a romantic way. They start off at the lowest point - we see them at their absolute worst and then we get to watch as they mend that fractured friendship and build up a genuine and healthy bond.

To me personally, the trajectory of their relationship was evident as soon as episode two, when Katsuki chased after Izuku after the sludge villain to let him know how much he "didn't need his help." That's the point that I decided I was interested to see how their characters developed as the story kept going, and I think it was such a huge payoff.

I think it also made for a lot of interesting fanworks. In the earlier days especially, you really had to work at it to make things good between them. Canonically, their relationship really is a slow burn lol, so if you wanted to write something that followed close to the actual story, there had to be tons of build up. I've read stuff where the beats felt so similar to what happened in the actual series which is crazy. It's a ship that lends itself to deep and lengthy analysis and a lot of people ended up being pretty spot on because of that.

I also think what's special about them is how intentional they work to make things right between each other again. They want to know each other's feelings, they want to be rivals and fight alongside each other, and be neck in neck and constantly chasing after each other. They want to be close again. Izuku offering Katsuki an olive branch and asking him about his fighting style after their bout at ground beta and Katsuki finally grabbing onto it is such a turning point for their relationship. It's a conscious choice on both their parts to work towards mending what was between them.

And I could go on and on about Katsuki's character arc, but that's a different post lol. For simplicity's sake, his arc is about recognizing for himself where his weaknesses lie, seeing how his actions hurt and shaped Deku, and working not only on himself, but on repairing the rift between them that he caused. He works with Izuku, shares and keeps his secret, trains with him, and eggs him on more and more lightheartedly as the series goes on.

His choice to care for Izuku, let him into his life again, and make up for what he's done is really important. Nobody is really forcing him to atone for his past and it's his desire to do so despite the lack of external pressure that makes that change feel genuine and meaningful. Training with Deku to master his quirks, sacrificing himself for Izuku during their fight with shigaraki, apologizing to him in front of the entire class and letting go of his pride, choosing to call him by his given name, dying with Izuku's name on his lips, fighting the big bad and continuously repeating that when Izuku can't handle it, he'll step in for him - all of these things are so telling of the kind of care he purposefully put into their relationship, and the way he grew and changed throughout the story.

And I think that in light of everything else, the fact that they remain important to each other right until the end is what makes it such a beautiful relationship, no matter what context you want to see it in. They love each other! They can't imagine a world in which the other isn't part of their life, and they actively and continuously work to make that a reality.

They're soulmates that intentionally chose to be so.

[tojjist]

“At Least” S. Gojo

☆ genre: angst to fluff (kinda)

☆ pairings: Gojo Satoru x f! reader

☆ summary: After Geto left, nothing has been the same. Especially not your relationship with Gojo Satoru. Once you decide to move to Kyoto for good, Gojo is less than pleased. But fate does not seem to want to let you go.

☆ cw: mentions of sex, depressed gojo, not spoiler free, hopping between timelines but like i added non-canon events, smoking, drinking, getting drunk, high school Gojo being a high school boy, cussing, mentions of drunk sex but it doesn��t happen, mentions character death (from the anime), gojo satoru (yes that's a trigger warning).

☆ wc : 5.6k

☆ a/n: this has been in the doing for so long? I've been waiting to have the chance to upload it for maybe a year now smh. Also was originally written for an irl of mine lmao

“Oh my god,” you emphasize each word, pushing the wooden chair away with your knee. “Satoru, is it yours?”

His black pupils, lined with iris the color of morning skies, study your figure from behind the shaded glasses, pink lips quirking slightly upwards in approval of your attention.

“Nah, it's only staying with me for a week,” he stated, watching nervously as you strode over to him. “His owner is away for some business.”

Your attention remained fixed on the pet in Satoru's long, long arms. Your face lit up when a bark escaped the infant animal. “Can I hold it?”

Satoru watched over you carefully, pleading eyes coming in line with his blues. You make it hard to say anything other than an immediate yes, but he tries to stretch out the conversation to his best ability.

“It's 400 yen for 10 minutes,” he muttered, sarcasm dripping from his words. He earned a look of amusement from you; a small victory. He then braced himself for the next part. Satoru bent down, meeting you eye-to-eye, and noticed your breath catching in anticipation. “Or... you can shorten your skirt.”

Your face took no time to grow hot, not giving any verbal answer besides the blank expression you stare at him with. For a second, Gojo let himself think he's the victor of this little challenge he started in his head. But he soon came to realize how grave of a mistake he's made.

You're not flustered, you're angry.

“You're such a fucking pervert,” you fume, eyes glaring daggers. He dares not move, noticing the way your eyes flutter over his face.

“You're truly unbelievable,” the shorter male chuckled, making sure he didn't bump into Satoru's now-bruised arm. “What were you even thinking?”

“I thought it was funny, y'know?” He huffed in response. Gojo's fingers ran through his own bright locks as he took a seat on the wood hung up by metal chains. "Besides, has she always been this strong? Physically, I mean."

Geto stared into the reddish sky of dusk, placing himself into a swing in turn and kicking the air so the swing would start moving. "I don't know. Girls are really full of surprises.”

He never thought, not in a million years, things would come to this. Ever since Gojo's last encounter with Geto after he, well, changed... Gojo became unable to face anyone quite the same way he did before.

How did he get here? How did things escalate to this? Thinking about it, Geto had shown signs of a change in his heart and mind. It was Satoru's fault, was it not? He should have done better. He should have noticed. How could he not have? wasn't he the strongest? Wasn't that his job? How could he be so bad at everything?

How could he fail everyone like this?

“Gojo-San?”

Your feminine voice cut his train of thought. He almost forgot the situation he is now stuck in. He's been doing that a lot: losing himself in thought, mind almost immune to the outer world until he temporarily lost his sense of self. Nothing felt quite the same any more. It was like the world had lost its color.

“Sorry- What's up?” He turned to you. Gojo-san, you called him. When did you stop using his given name? What's with the '-san'? Gojo hadn't realized that losing one person was the first step, and now he found himself deep in the road of losing everyone.

And now he's stuck in the elevator with the girl he had liked for so long. He couldn't find it in himself to say anything to you, to push your buttons like he always did or joke around. When did the world become so heavy? He does not know.

“Are you okay? You seemed off.”

Your face is devoid of any genuine emotion, seemingly expressionless. But your voice is laced with concern. Gojo could only guess you didn't want him thinking you pity him or anything of such. But if that isn't the case, he wouldn't know. He's too tired to bother thinking about it.

“Yeah, yeah. I'm fine,” he smiled in assurance, “Just bothered by, well, this-” he threw his hand in the way of the control panel. The elevator doors have been stuck for almost twenty minutes now. How pleasant.

“uh huh,” you sigh, turning back around. How did you turn so cold?

When the silence stretches, you start a conversation, hesitant at first. “By the way, I got accepted as a helper in a nursery in Kyoto,” you mutter, gaze avoiding his own. “they're expecting me to start work right after spring break.”

Spring break?

Holy shit. It hit him like a truck. That’s barely a week and a half from now.

“Spring break? Why so soon?”

“That’s when the students file back in,” you mumble, fiddling with the watch placed around your wrist. You pause to read the time, then turn to meet his eyes. “I’m leaving in four days to get settled.”

“Oh…” His breath caught, “Train?”

What a stupid question. He knows. Satoru has never been unintelligent, especially in conversing. But now his unintelligence shines through as if it’s his only trait. He’s glad you don’t question it.

“Yeah, I have no other form of transport really.”

“Well, uh…” He hates himself. He hates himself for not doing anything. He hates himself for being so weak and  cowardly, for being unable to keep his friends around him, for shutting everyone he holds close out. But now, he especially hates himself for being unable to feel happy for you, or to congratulate you on the opportunity, “come visit us every once in a while, yeah?”

Your mouth remains shut, only staring at the tall man before your eyes. The silence stretches between the two of you once again, and you don’t find it in you to speak of how you feel.

“You.. you know you could have died, right? We all could have b-but you…” You trail off, thoughts splattered like a spilled pot of ink. Although you seemed unfazed, in your mind you were anything but. Haibara, Riko, and all the losses that trailed and every event that followed has been stressful and nerve-wrecking. And even in the quietness and silence of the general atmosphere, it has been nearly impossible to find peace within yourself.

“Well, I didn’t. What happened had passed. Can you change that? I doubt so. No point in ‘if’ and ‘could’ve’.”

Before you could respond,the lights flickered back on. You grow unsure if you’ve struck a nerve, but that wasn’t what you meant. Gojo’s response had nothing to do with what you said, you were sure he knew exactly what your words were meant for. Why is he so scared of confronting it?

You don’t know. You could never hope to know because you and Gojo Satoru live in different worlds, the man who was only Satoru some time ago. You were worlds apart, yet  Satoru loved to play pretend that he lived in the same world as you, even when he stuck out like a sore thumb. But he was no longer. Ever since Geto left… it’s safe to say everyone has been changing slowly, deforming from their previous lives and personalities. But Satoru flipped, like the head and tail of a coin, he got himself a new face. He turned into Gojo Satoru; the strongest. A soul unalive. A broken boy in an ever growing body. A stranger.

Two days later you find yourself still roaming the campus , searching so desperately for something. Anything. A reason to stay, perhaps? You don’t find it anyway. You have no attachment as this place holds nothing but misery. Or that’s what you told yourself over and over as you packed your things.

Your steps were graceful, walking so cautiously as if careful to not wake someone up. Your fingers find rest on the old, dusty door frame, pushing yourself into the room that hadn’t been used for a good month or so. The classroom looked the same as it always did. Except for the shadow that loomed over it; a gray shade that sent chills down your spine. Or maybe it’s just your imagination. 

Then you spot something rather out of place. You’re sure you’ve never seen it before and although you know it’s none of your business, the way it tugs at the strings of your curiosity is undeniable.

It’s red, poking out of what you’re sure is Gojo’s desk. The gloomy classroom was no fit for paper with a color so vibrant. 

Your heart skips a beat when you glimpse the seat next to Satoru’s. You do your best to avoid looking at Geto’s desk any further. You busy yourself with the task at hand, reaching out for the mysterious paper hidden in the wooden desk. Shivers run up your arm at the texture of the scrunched paper.

You attempt to straighten it to your best ability, strained by his hard work of crumbling it with obvious frustration. you can barely make out the letters of your name in the middle of the paper, outlined by a messy circle. How Gojo of him. A few lines stick out of the ‘circle’, one of them has the name of a steakhouse somewhere in Tokyo. Another has a date, reading somewhere along February. It’s near impossible to make out what the small combination of letters say, especially when Satoru’s handwriting is closer to symbols than a comprehensible language.

The thought of it was so funny it didn’t feel like him at all. Satoru never planned anything. Every breath he took was based on pure impulse. Never would it have occurred to you that he thinks through things, let alone brainstorm.

The thought makes you smile. But the realization that he never asked you out because he changed his mind or everything that happened getting in his way makes your stomach churn unpleasantly. 

You decide it’s probably for the best to never bring it up. It would only make matters worse for both of you. Life ran its course; who are you to try and change it?

“I apologize, but my answer remains. I refuse to take part in this,” you spoke in an even tone. “I have a job and a life away from jujutsu. I’ve made it clear sorcery is not a part of my life anymore.”

"That’s completely understandable,” the old man argued, his voice hoarse with age. You’re pretty sure you hear anger further straining his voice, “but your technique is quite strong. That strength could be of great assistance if put to use.”

“Thank you, sir,” you dip your head, maintaining eye contact with the decaying man. “But I truly apologize. The decision is final.”

“If you ever do change your mind, please let us know. We’d be more than happy to hear it.”

You almost let a sigh of relief escape. Finally he gave up. You end up only nodding your head in response gratefully, retreating from the old man. As soon as you're safe and out of sight, you let your posture drop, eyes rolling back in annoyance. These guys are truly as relentless as ever.

You stopped upon a familiar scent catching in your nostrils. Lifting your head up, your eyes roam around, scanning the room for your friend.

“You look troubled,” Shoko approaches you, taking the cigarette out from between her teeth. “What’s with the face?”

“How is that man even alive,” you look at her, “he’s ancient.”

Your comment earns a light chuckle from the brunette. “I’m glad I never have to get caught up in this bullshit.”

“Blissed aren’t you,” you roll your eyes as you speak. “I shouldn’t have come in the first place, I knew they were going to do this.”

“It’s alright, you’re all done now. Here-” Your friend then lifts the cigarette up, putting it near your mouth. When you don’t show any resistance she, being the bad influence she has always been, proceeds to place it between your lips. You waste no time, making quick work of the drag you inhale, bringing the familiar cloud of toxic chemicals and tobacco into your lungs. Your expression relaxes, shifting into one of relief. Shoko scoffs playfully, muttering that you’re dramatic under her breath before she pulls her cigarette from you, taking in a drag.

“Satoru’s here, by the way,” Shoko didn’t need to look at you to guess the way your eyes snap towards her. She bites back a smile. “He’s calmed down. He’d even seem the same as long as you don’t squint too hard.”

“Good for him,” you mutter, trying to seem as unbothered and nonchalant as your accelerating heart rate would allow. You avoid looking at Shoko, trying to seem disinterested. You know she’d pretend you weren’t gawking at her the second she said his name.

“He’s trying, you know. He’s just as nervous as you are.”

“‘M not nervous,” you scoff, “For god’s sake. It’s been ten years already.”

Satoru is stressed. He's nervous, as Shoko put it. He’d spent so long trying to ignore the past, pretend the past wasn’t at all. He couldn’t confront it. He didn’t want to. Satoru knows what he’s done, he's aware that he hurt you the last time you two had interacted. And that was ten years ago. He even let you leave without so much as a goodbye. How could he look you in the eye and pretend nothing has ever happened?

Gojo didn’t want to face the consequences of what he’s done. More so what he hasn’t. So many things were left unsaid in the elevator that day. They’ve been hanging over Satoru ever since, weighing his heart down and wearing it out.

What if he’s met by another woman? Ten years change a lot as is. What if the eyes that meet his aren’t yours? What if he finds himself talking to a stranger that carries around your name and features? Of all the horrors Gojo Satoru had faced in his life, nothing caused dread to pool in the pit of his stomach like this thought does.

Shoko seems to find something beyond you interesting. You don’t bother to turn to see as the brunette has always been a little in her own head. She’s probably just dozed off.

“Hey, think you can hold this for me?” Shoko muttered once Gojo crossed her sight. She stands facing you, averting his gaze. “I’ll be right back, nature’s calling.”

From his distance, Gojo couldn’t make out what the two of you were saying. He watched as your shoulders shook, presumably in laughter. Shoko then made her away from you, barely sparing Satoru a glance.

Every step he took felt heavy, weights landing on his shoulders as he moved towards you. He watched smoke emerge from over your head. He didn’t know you smoked. And even though he’s not completely sure what you do for a living now, he’s not expecting any nursery to accept a smoker in their team.

His long strides finally arrived, opting to remain a step behind you. Close enough to make his presence known.

The aura was unmistakable, almost as if it could be physically sensed. You freeze in place, the cigarette remaining a few inches from your lips. Even after he changed his perfume to one a lot more manly and appealing, and clearly grew taller judging by the shadow he cast over you, his presence still had the same strength as it did before. If not stronger. Anyone else would say it’s intimidating. But you find surprising comfort in it.

“That’s going to kill you,” his hand  reached from over your head, making sure to not cause any unnecessary physical contact. His fingers slip the burning cigarette  from your grip. You find yourself unable to make a single move in response, only watching his actions unfold.

He took a step, moving closer, dimming the light from the roll by rubbing it against the metal bars, then throwing it off the balcony. “You’re too young to kill yourself like that.”

“That bitch Shoko set me up,” You hiss, regaining your composure. “Will you look who showed up. You’re killing the ecosystem by throwing waste like this, Gojo.”

Although you haven’t glanced his way yet, You were every bit sure his mouth was quirked in the same smug smirk he wore so much when you were younger. You could even hear it in his voice as he spoke, “You haven’t grown at all, have you?”

“Oh shut it,” you chuckle. “You’re still as immature as ever. How you could be a manchild at 27 is a wonder to me.”

27… It felt so weird to say it out loud. Weren’t you just 17 a few days ago?

“Oh, how you hurt me,” he says in exaggeration, his voice conveying anything but the hurt he claims to feel. “That isn’t very nice of you.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” You say. He laughs a little, you do too. But the silence that follows is not that of a joke. He knew what you’re referring to. Maybe he underestimated your last encounter’s effect on you.

The silence speaks for itself. It’s louder than any conversation you’ve had before. What now? What have we become? Is it of any use to try anymore? Neither of you had an answer to the question that began to surface with this interaction.

The questions remain hung in the air, dimming the atmosphere around you. Was this fate’s doing? Or his karma? Gojo has always been told he’s a god, but how could he be a higher form of life when he struggled so much to hold a conversation?

He’s about to speak again when you cut him off, muttering “here-” as you push your hand down the coat you wore. Your tongue pokes at the inside of your cheek as you search for the anonymous object.

You pull out a worn out paper, grown from what could have been a bright red to an orangish shade. His eyes study as you shove the paper in his  direction, eyes avoiding his gaze at all costs.

Seeing your bashful expression made him rather curious, the contents of the wrinkled paper piquing his interest. He hesitates before he pulls the paper from your hand, half-expecting you to bite him.

The letters were scribbles, almost like they’re straight out of some cult’s ritual,  that with the wrinkles of the worn out paper making reading it next to impossible. Still, he could make out just enough to realize what this paper is. His eyes widened behind the blindfold. It didn’t take much to remember this paper, trivial as it may be.

“You found this- how did you even…?” he trails off, confused.

“I guess I did,” You confirm. He’s unsure if you’re proud of yourself for your rather… interesting discovery. It’s bold of you to pull this out ten whole years later. But he can’t deny the relief he feels that at least this means you don’t completely hate him. For once, he’s truly at loss for words. 

But he wouldn’t let a perfect opportunity like this slide.

“Oh, so you’re in love with me? You’re so obsessed with me that you kept this for so many years, what a loyal fangirl.”

Before he knew it, a weight so crushing landed on his foot. He turned off his infinity around you as a sign of trust. But he soon came to regret his rather unsmart decision. Your foot stomped and crushed his toes. It makes him groan in pain, bending slightly forward.

“Tomorrow, at Narisawa in Minato city, 5:30. I’m leaving for Kyoto in 3 days. Don’t waste your chance again, Gojo Satoru. You’re not getting another one.”

“I take it you’ve been in love with me ever since?” He leans forward, elbows on the table. “Say, did you fascinate about me?”

“Hmm..” you hum softly at his childish question, “only a little.” You show no signs of interest in his tactics as you sipped the wine in your hand. Undeniably, Gojo is taken aback by your lack of reaction. He hasn’t known you to be so reserved and smart at keeping him on edge. He couldn’t help finding your new behavior enticing.

Is there anything else you’d like to have?” You nodded your head towards the plates sitting on the table, some empty and some half-full. “Or do you wanna do something else before I go back to the hotel?”

“Hmm? Maybe I could join you at the hotel, actually. Surely it’ll be a lot less lonely with me around?”

You’re tempted by his offer, feeling the heat pooling in your stomach. He looked strikingly handsome today. Maybe you were just really lonely and touch starved, or maybe it’s the way his lips quirk as he teases you that makes your brain a little hazy, inappropriate thoughts floating through it and send jolts to your core. Yet, you set your mind on refusing his advances. You haven’t had a decent conversation since high school, for god's sake.

He keeps his eyes set on you, shining before him. You looked glamorous. He’d lie if he said there wasn’t a certain allure to  your matured looks. The years that flew by changed a lot of things about you two, but his breath still catches in his throat when your eyes meet his dreamy blues. The feelings rush back, memories clouding his train of thought. 

He’s sure he’s going to pay. He didn’t mind it at all, what a small price for getting to spend an evening with you. But you surprise him when you bring up that you had already put your card down, courtesy of having been the one to ask him out. Or maybe this was your way of telling him that you are in pretty good condition, living perfectly well without needing sorcery.

“How’s working as a jujutsu teacher?” you quip, smiling softly. “Utahime says you’ve got some interesting kids in your pack? Two special grades, too. You’re sure a favorite attraction for wonders.”

“You’re still in contact with her too?” he dodges talking about his students, not meeting your gaze. “That’s ironic. Weren’t we friends too?”

A hoarse chuckle emerges from him. But nothing about it leads back to amusement, as it was a joyless sound devoid of life. Almost as if he were mocking you. The dark lenses of the shades sitting on the bridge of his nose served as a shield. He curses himself for being so weak. He's almost thirty but somehow you’ve got him acting like he did when he was 17. 

“You didn’t try to contact me either,” you shrug, not willing to take the blame for your lack of contact. 

“You could have visited then. Even Yaga talked about you every once in a while,” he isn’t too happy and it’s showing.

“All good things, I hope-“

“Don’t change the subject,” he frowns, an uneasy edge outlining his words. “He was enough. You didn’t have to go ahead and leave too.”

“I had to move on, Gojo,” the name felt like a jab every time you used it. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything about it. This is how you drew your boundaries. Calling them by their last names gives you a false sense of satisfaction, convincing yourself that your sorcerer friends are past figures now. Mere acquaintances. 

“-I couldn’t remain hung there forever, I valued my mental health. You grew distant, the atmosphere was growing uneasy every day. I had to cut ties with Jujutsu before I couldn’t recognize myself anymore.”

“Yet you’re here now. Back to square one,” his playful tone was long gone, now replaced by an even, stern one. “Whether you moved away or called us by our last names. It’s a curse you can’t escape. you’ll always end up back in the palms or jujutsu.”

His words held some truth. You know that. But just as he refused to confront this past, you repulsed the idea of your reality. You truly want to believe that you could escape this part of yourself and live a normal life. You couldn’t come to terms with your inability. You held onto your hopes as if your sanity completely depended on it. Another thing that won’t change no matter how much you grew.

“I'll be okay as long as I refuse to interact with this world.”

Once you leave the restaurant, you find yourself wandering through the rich streets of Minato city. It felt as though the night was pulling you further into its welcoming embrace, with nothing rushing you.

“He was only thirteen,” you chuckle, arm linked in his. “It’s unbelievable how bold kids nowadays are.”

“I would’ve done the same thing, honestly,” he smirks, his gaze fixed on the stores around.

“Of course. You’ve got the brains of a thirteen year old.”

Satoru grins at your remark, pulling you into a clothes store. 

“What’s this?” you look around in confusion, noting a woman in a suit welcoming you. The place looked a little too fancy, judging by the display of the items and the lighting of the place.

“It’s a western brand,” Satoru answers. Looking over at him, you can’t help but smile a little. He looks good tonight. His fancy outfit gave the impression that he’s a model to strangers. “Louis Vuitton, I think,” He furrows his brows, trying to remember the name of the brand stores he’s been to with Nobara and Shoko.

“Prada, sir,” The lady in a suit corrected him. “Can I help you?”

“We’re just browsing, thank you.” It’s a phrase he heard from Kugisaki countless times whenever they wandered into a store. His response makes you chuckle, watching as the lady takes a few steps backwards politely.

You’re soon comfortable, searching through the expensive coats and bags. Satoru watched tenderly. Even though the ten years that passed with no contact whatsoever definitely propose a wall between you, he's glad you're able to feel free. You might nit on the same page, but you two can work with what you have.

You stride back to the “S” shaped velvet couch sat in the middle of the checker-carpet store, where Satoru sat. But he was nowhere to be seen.

You walk around in hesitance and confusion, completely aware of the lady walking always a few feet behind you. Surveillance, you guess.

You find him standing in front of the white counter, taking a black bag with the brand’s name printed onto it in golden letters from the man standing behind the counter in a white shirt with the brand's logo on it.

“Gojo,” you call him, confusion fused into your expression.

He extends his arm to you, trying to suppress any sourness at you calling him Gojo. “Let’s go?”

You nod, eyeing him suspiciously before you link your arm in his. You make sure to flash a grateful smile at the woman by the door as you walk past the reflective glass door.

You almost forgot how busy the world outside is. It felt as though the glass building of the store was sound proof. Now you have to adjust to the noise of the full streets again.

Satoru remains silent for the most part. It’s not awkward, rather just neither of you knew what to say. He expected you to ask about what he bought, which you have considered. You decide against it though as you feel it’s none of your business. You’re not too surprised anyway as Gojo has always been a wealthy man. He could buy the entire Prada chain with half of his monthly spending.

“What do you wanna do now?” He asks. “Wanna go somewhere else?”

You think about going to the club to give the night the best closure. But neither of you were dressed for it anyway. You contemplate your choices. Then you grin at him, and Satoru knows it’s best to fear what comes after

You’re well aware that he has a high alcohol tolerance. While you would be wasted a few shots in. Yet you consumed so many drinks recklessly, thinking that maybe you could beat him in a drinking game.

That’s why he’s stuck to your side now, helping your sleeping body out of his car. Satoru is glad your hotel card was so easy to find in your purse, taking it out as he gets into the lobby.

A few people eye the man, glaring at him and at the way he held you in his arms. But he couldn’t bring himself to think too much about it. His mission is to get you to bed now.

“Satoruuu~” You whine, rubbing your face into the pillow once he sat you on the white bedding. “Stay with meeee”

And Satoru is nothing if not human. Despite what everyone else says. It’s proven now that he had come to face a human flaw like this. He is weak, and you are all but practically seducing him.

“Stop crying,” He mutters. He finds himself smiling sheepishly at the unlikely scenario he found himself in. Tucking you in bed, your face hot due to the drinks you had. He really should have stopped you. “I’ll stay the night, so sleep already.”

He convinced himself it’s for the best. He should watch over you for tonight. No funny business. Deep inside he knew he was just finding a reason— any reason to stay around you for a little longer, heart yearning for the lost years. But he ignored the pathetic feeling, convincing himself it’s for your sake instead.

“But I’m uncomfortableee,” you whine again, hands running down your body. “The dress...”

Did you have to make it so hard on him? Satoru is tempted to kiss you, eyebrows knitted in the space between, eyes looking around the room for any sort of aid.

This is probably a form of invading your privacy, but he sees no other choice. He’ll have to hold it together for tonight.

“nngh..”

Your groan came with an impending headache. Your body moves against the rich covers of the bed, sunlight illuminating your physique.

He stopped in his tracks, feet bare against the gray carpet.

Your form is beautiful, one to compete with statues of goddesses. The rays of light complimented every inch of skin in all the right ways. Satoru had to physically shake his head to stop the flowing perverted thoughts in his head.

Your flinch when you catch him standing near the door, heart beating slightly faster. You thought that you’re alone. You don’t think much of it anyway, muttering a “holy shit” under your breath.

“Good morning,” he casually greets, brushing off the mutual shock, albeit for different reasons. “I made coffee, if you wanted some.”

“Oh... thank you,” you mutter, rubbing your eyes as you sit up straight. “Did you eat anything yet?”

“Not yet, no,”  he says, holding his overly sweet coffee in both palms. “Thought I’d wait until you woke up.”

“You’re a real sweetheart, Satoru,” you yawn. His name slipped past your lips before you could stop it. You busy yourself with stretching your arms. “What a doting housewife God has blessed me with”

His response is only a chuckle, rolling his eyes as he sighs on the edge of the bed. “Well, at least I wasn’t begging a man to spend the night with me”

“Huh?”

You couldn’t remember anything of the prior night. Nothing that occurred after you sat at the bar, specifically. But then you begin to realize, eyes widening at the revelation. You feel dreadfulness landing in the pit of your stomach a little too late. 

He’s shirtless, wearing only his suit pants. And even though you wouldn’t mind the sight any other day, the fact that you are in your pajamas isn’t helping at all.

“Did we...” You trail off, expression darkening. Your eyes meet his own, fear implanted in your pupils. You watch as his expression drifts from confusion to an awkward hesitance. Unsure how to break the news to you.

You don’t know what to expect, not realizing you’re holding your breath. 

“I-I’m sorry,” He sighs, gaze faltering as his eyes look away from you. Your eyes widen further, oxygen becoming hard to consume.

What have you done?

“But- don’t worry. You know I’m not some asshole...” if anything, he sounded chivalrous. “I-I’ll be accountable for my mistake. When do you want to hold the wedding?”

You gasp, face feeling hot. “You piece of shit-“ You groan as your foot reaches him, forcefully pushing him off the bed. “As if!”

He breaks into a fit of laughter, the sound full of genuine delight. “I can’t believe you fell for it,” He manages between the laughter.

“Fuck you, Satoru,” you mutter, a smile of relief breaking across your face. “I can’t believe you pulled something so childish.”

“Why are you so down?” He climbed back onto the bed, reclaiming his spot on the edge. “Are you disappointed? You know it’s never too late to just as-“

“Fuck off,” Your heart is pounding as you send him another kick, less forceful this time. “Say one more word about it and I’ll make sure you don’t make it out of this room in one piece.”

He laughs, asking you to pass his coffee. You reach for his coffee from the bedside table. Your fingers lift the glass mug to your lips, sipping at the hot beverage before handing it to him.

Your face scrunches up at the horrible taste. Too much sugar. Too much milk. It’s a lot worse than you might think.

“Your coffee should be criminal,” you push the mug his way, frowning. Satoru hums in response. 

There’s no awkwardness between the two of you, and he can’t help but cherish it. He feels content, enough to sit a little closer, at least.

Enough to lean in towards you, mouth closing over yours in an ever awaited kiss, at least.

[ohworm-writes]

「✰」 ━━ NIKOLAI HEADCANONS

RATING R - Restricted [ Content Warnings : 18+ mdni, gn!m!f!reader, strong language, alcohol mention and consumption, fluff, possible mistranslation, spider mention, smut, dom!Nikolai, sub!reader, exhibitionism, cunnilingus, praise, degradation, masturbation, riding, hair pulling ]

SYNOPSIS Both general and romantic, safe for work and not safe for work, headcanons for, arguably, one of the most underrated Call of Duty: Modern Warfare characters to date - Nikolai. (This is my first time writing smut so any tips and feedback is greatly appreciated!)

WORD COUNT 1.2k

SAFE FOR WORK

His hands, and just his body overall, run naturally warm. Not to the point where he can be considered a "walking heater" or burning to the touch, but just exudes a constant warmness overall.

Dad-bod, no questions asked. He's not completely cut, not all hard surfaces and muscles - he's got a plush softness to him body that's equally as firm. He works out and keeps himself in shape, of course, because, granted, it's a given that comes with his profession, but he indulges himself equally as much.

He doesn't drink heavily, per se, setting a hard cut-off point for himself that he abides by like it's law, but he won't deny a drink if he's offered it. After all, drinking culture is big in Russia - he can hold his own just fine. That being said, vodka isn't his favorite, but he doesn't hate it by any means, either.

Acts of service and quality time are his love languages. He loves spending time with you whenever he can, especially considering how his profession can take him away for months and more at a time. If it's possible, you're always by his side or he's by yours. Will do anything you ask of him, too - be it chores, tasks, or anything else.

That being said, it can also be argued that giving gifts is one of his primary love languages, too. Any time he's out on a mission, he always tries to get you something from wherever he's been to - there are many perks to being a pilot, now aren't there?

He snores when he sleeps, and he sleeps heavy. Not to the point where you'd have to dump a bucket of ice water over him to wake him up, but to the point where you have to shake him vigorously to get him to slowly rouse. Sounds like a lawnmower when he snores.

His kisses are soft and slow, one hand on your waist or back, pulling you in, while the other holds your chin with such tenderness, guiding your lips to meet his, breathing out a heavy sigh as he relaxes into you.

Opts for Russian terms of endearment over English ones. It feels more personal to him, calling you something in his native tongue rather than something he hears everyone around him call their partners - it's more special to him.

Лапушка/Лапочка - Lapochka/Lapushka (sweetheart)

Любимая/Любимый - Lyubimaya/Lyubimyy (darling)

Surprisingly or not, he's actually a really good cook! He's traveled to so many places and tried so many different kinds of food so, naturally, he's learned to make them for himself. He downplays his abilities, but he looks like an absolute professional when he's in the kitchen.

When he's not away for work, he's actually quite domestic. He has a house of his own far away from everyone else in a remote little town, at least an hour or two outside of any major city. A cabin of sorts, with a place for his own little garden that he tends to (or, more accurately, which you tend to).

He even has his own little stall at the town's farmers market where he sells what he grows whenever it's ready. Everyone has so many theories about him because, honestly - why wouldn't they? A Russian man who lives at the edge of town in a big ol' house, disappearing for weeks or months at a time. It's a cause for concern.

He's so polite and he has the best manners, no question about it.

Though, to combat it, he can be quite a loose-canon. He's reckless and unethical in his methods, especially with work, but some aspects carry over to his personal and domestic life. (If there's a spider, he's pulling out his pistol first, not grabbing a book or a shoe).

He has this sarcastic, almost morbid sense of humor, smug as all hell (worse than Graves, more often than not) but he's genuinely just playful. He's a friend to everyone he meets and can easily match vibes with anyone.

NOT SAFE FOR WORK

Dominant in every sense of the word. He might let you act like you're in control from time to time, but he's quick to show you your place and has no shame in doing it.

His hands are always on you, no matter the occasion. He has to have some sort of physical contact when it comes to you. Be it a hand on the small of your back to guide you, on your shoulder to assure his presence, his leg touching yours when you sit down, a palm on your thigh as he drives.

One-hundred percent an ass man. Squeezing, slapping, spanking, groping - doesn't matter. If he can, his hand is there, no discussion.

He's an exhibitionist, easily. The risk of getting caught, whether if he's by himself or if he's with you, turns him on beyond belief - it gets his head spinning.

Helicopter sex! He's absolutely obsessed with getting you to ride him while he sits in the cockpit, holding onto your hips, fingers bruising into the skin, his legs spread wide with his jumper zipped down as far as it can go, fucking up into you as you bounce on his cock.

Jerks himself off in his helicopter too, biting down onto his fist as he fucks into his hand with purpose.

He's noisy! All grunts and growls, whispering to you how good you feel, practically narrating what he's doing sometimes.

It's a balance of praise and degradation that he gives. Sometimes it fifty-fifty, saying how you're taking him so well, like a good whore should. Sometimes it switches from one to the other (be it extremes or not) - it just depends.

Gives oral like it’s his job. Steady grip on your thighs, pushing them back and wide and buries himself between them for as long as you'll allow him to. He's so sloppy with it too, drooling and spitting all over you as he sucks you off/eats you out. (If you look close enough, you can tell it's started to bleach his beard, too).

Takes his time fucking you. He doesn't like quickies at all - if he isn't able to fuck you at the pace he wants, he isn't doing it. Now, this doesn't necessarily mean that he isn't up for hard and fast sex, but it's more so that he doesn't like time constraints.

More often than not, though, he goes slow (at least, at first), teasing you until you're begging before slowly pushing into you, dragging his cock in and out of you at an excruciating pace.

Speaking of, too, he's such a tease and he knows it.

Loves loves loves pulling and grabbing your hair, forcing you to arch your back as he pounds into you from behind relentlessly, watching the way your ass ripples with every snap of his hips.

Dumbification, too. Loves getting you all cock-drunk and fucked out to the point where you can't think for yourself, teasing you and borderline-mocking you as he slides a hand down your stomach, bringing his thumb down to your clit and making slow circles around it/grabbing the base of your cock and slowly stroking up and down it as he coos at you.

This goes hand in hand with overstimulation - loves making you cum over and over and over again until you can't think and it's too much, only to coax another orgasm out of you.

[mimble-sparklepudding]

FFXIV Blog Positivity Ask Game.

Given that things are a bit sad and stressful at the moment, I thought it might be a good time to spread a little community positivity - and hopefully celebrate some FFXIV blogs of which people might not be aware.

Hightlight a FFXIV blog from which you are always happy to see a post.

Highlight a FFXIV blog that people might not know about, but that you would like to recommend to others.

Highlight a FFXIV blog with an OC who has a really compelling backstory.

Highlight a FFXIV blog that often makes you laugh.

Highlight a new FFXIV blog that would you like more people to interact with.

Highlight a FFXIV blog with an OC who is just incredibly, if not unreasonably, sexy.

Highlight a FFXIV blogger who is really supportive of others in the community.

Highlight a FFXIV blog with a really original OC.

Highlight a FFXIV blogger who is a really talented writer.

Highlight a FFXIV blog with some fantastic original art, whether digital or traditional.

Highlight a FFXIV blog that expands on lore in an interesting way.

Highlight a FFXIV blog that deserves more recognition by a wider audience.

Highlight a FFXIV blogger who is always a joy to interact or RP with.

Highlight a FFXIV blog with some impressive gposes or screenshots.

Highlight a FFXIV blogger with whom you still can't quite believe you are actually mutuals.

Highlight a FFXIV blog which gives you "all the feels".

Highlight a FFXIV blog with an OC about whom you really want to learn more.

Highlight a FFXIV blog that has made you think about a character or setting in a different way.

Highlight a FFXIV blogger who works hard to bring people together and promote events and activities.

Highlight a FFXIV blog with a romance or ship that you really enjoy.

Highlight a FFXIV blog that explores an existing canon character in an interesting way.

Highlight a FFXIV blog with an engaging OC who is morally grey, if not outright villainous...

Highlight a FFXIV blogger who really inspires you.

Highlight a FFXIV blog which does erotica (or smut) really well.

Highlight a FFXIV blog with an OC that you consider particularly cute or endearing.

Highlight a FFXIV blogger who you consider to be especially talented at producing gifs or videos.

Highlight a FFXIV blog which has challenged you to think about an aspect of lore in a different way.

Highlight a FFXIV blog that explores difficult or complex emotions really well.

Highlight a FFXIV blog with an OC in whom you feel particularly invested.

Highlight a FFXIV blogger who should have more confidence in their skills.

Highlight a FFXIV blog with an OC who is particularly loveable or endearing.

Highlight a FFXIV blog which you recommend new community members should follow.

Highlight a FFXIV blogger who is looking for more RP opportunities (and deserves them).

Highlight a FFXIV blog that does something impressive or different with a popular trope or character.

Highlight a FFXIV blogger who made you feel really welcome when you first joined the community.

Highlight a FFXIV blog that you've really enjoyed seeing develop over time.

Highlight a FFXIV blog with a variety of compelling OCs - perhaps so many that you're impressed they can keep track of them all.

Highlight a FFXIV blog with a really strong and defined theme.

Highlight a FFXIV blog that is completely different to yours, whether in terms of focus or style, but you really enjoy.

Highlight a FFXIV blog with inspriring and/or impressive glamour or outfits.

Highlight a FFXIV blogger who you wish posted more often.

Highlight a FFXIV blog which portrays or describes combat or warfare particularly well.

Highlight a FFXIV blogger who answers OC (or other) asks with really interesting responses.

Highlight a FFXIV blog which does comedy really well.

Highlight a FFXIV blogger who has become a friend.

Remember that highlighting a particular blog as an example of one that is funny or original etc does not mean that other blogs or bloggers are not also worthy of mention. This is just about giving an example from the many blogs you no doubt follow. If you really can't choose then you could always roll a dice - or list all of the ones that qualify, but you might be there for some time...

[h8ani]

You don't mean to hold onto the past but, you do. You hold onto him with every piece of you and you're only going to hurt others in the process.

Takashi Mitsuya x Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: nsfw, female reader, non-canon events, reader deals with grief, major character death, descriptions of a dead body, mentions of blood, mentions of a panic attack, unprotected sex, hurt & no comfort

Here is my entry for @bioticlaw TUN collab! I don't know why I choose sadness and angst but I hope anyone who reads this enjoys what I wrote! I tried my hardest with this one :')

taglist: @kkittycries @blackfire2013 @benkeibear @suyacho @shujistars

join my taglist -> here

Grief: (noun) deep sorrow, especially that caused by someone's death. 

Grief is the response to loss, particularly to the loss of someone or something that has died. Death is the tragedy in the young, too many opportunities and experiences cut short. There’s a different kind of mourning you feel when someone you love dies young, you’re angry; the unfairness in the world makes you want to scream and cry, all the lost occasions and celebrations you’ll never get with your person. It’s different when they never get to grow old with you, getting to have the same initiations in life that you had to go through; the heartbreaks, the ceremonies, all the celebratory times in one’s life all cut too short by the angel of death himself. Death is a right of passage for the elderly, the old have lived their lives fully, looking back on the memories that they made because they had a full life to live, a life they had lived absolutely.

The death in your life was one no person should have to endure. The loss of your one true love; Ken Ryuguji. The sorrow you feel should be a testament to the love you had, the pain stands as a witness of your bond with him and how it still survives even when time has spent since his passing. 

Ken was a true gem, a diamond in the rough of the people in your life. He was a protector by nature when it came to you, always shielding you from danger since you two were young, it continued even after you two grew up from little kids to young adults although by then you were able to defend yourself without needing his presence. It’s a shame you were never able to do the same for him. 

The memories of seeing him were ones engraved in your mind, the blood that pooled around his cold, lifeless body still haunts every aspect of your being. Most nights you cry yourself to sleep, the recollections of that unforgettable night being the only thing you’re able to think of when the moon shines brightly through your window, the darkness of the night mirroring just how you felt inside most days. No matter what you do to stop them, the tears continue to flow. 

You wish you could think of the happy memories, lord knows there were plenty of them to blur out the bad. Your favorite memories hazily glow in the glum thoughts, the light trying to brighten but eventually being downcast into the murkiness of your heartbreak. You still think back to when you’d be on the back of his bike – your arms wrapped tightly around his waist as the bike was revved up and exceeded speeds that weren’t legal in any way but you didn’t care. You could’ve driven for hours and ended up who knows where and you wouldn’t care. You would’ve been content just being with Ken forever. 

But forever doesn’t exist.

The suffering you endure from the memories of that very night – it’s like razor blades filled inside one of the many stuffed animals he had given you throughout the years, the more you clung to them the deeper the cuts go, and no chance in healing as you embed them deeper and deeper. 

You gasp aloud, body shooting up in a frenzy as you look around, the heavy comforter that was once draped over you was now kicked down and bunched down at your feet. Your throat constricted against itself as you tried to heave as much air in your lungs as possible. The room was spinning even when the darkness surrounded you with no form of light peeking out anywhere. You squeezed your eyes shut, the tears that had already been welling up fell down your cheeks now. You’re so focused on catching your breath and centering yourself that you don’t hear the calling of your name from beside you, the low buzz in your ears greater than his voice could reach. 

You feel a gentle hand on your back, the slow movements of his hand seemingly calming you down in a matter of seconds. “Sorry…” you mutter out, voice hoarse and quiet, you glance over to see your boyfriend, a worried expression etched all over his face. 

“No apologies tonight, okay?” Mitsuya says as he sees your broken figure, he pulls you closer to him as he lays you both back into the bed. Your head rests against his shoulder while he continues to rub small circles along your back. A shaky sigh escapes your lips as you melt into him feeling the tingle in your body slowly dissipate while you calm down. 

Mitsuya knew what he was getting into when he finally decided to approach you, he had known you since you both were kids; being introduced to each other by Draken himself, he also knew of the relationship that you and Draken had, Mistuya was also the one who realized that you were the unlucky soul who found Draken’s body, but how could you not when you were pinged the location. 

It was something out of a movie, a horror movie that no one should have to live through. Mitsuya remembers hearing that you found Draken’s body but when you opened up enough to tell him the events that happened that very night a shiver ran through his spine. 

You rushed through the story when trying to talk to him about it, tears pricking your eyes because you were so tired of crying and just wanted to stop. When you finally got to the part that took an eerily chill turn Mitsuya could feel his own throat start to contract, the bile in his throat slowly rising up. You got the location ping from Draken himself, it was a random spot, an area behind a field that was frequently packed during the summer when little league would be in full swing, but you knew it. You went to go meet him, confused as to why he was so M.I.A during the day and why he didn’t tell you about the reason for this random location drop. You finally saw him, lying in a patch of grass staring up at the stars until realizing what you were actually looking at. 

Draken was dead. 

His face looked peaceful but the torn, dirty clothes he was wearing said differently. The grass was stained red around him and it dragged on as if his body was moved. Days later you found out that he had been dead for hours prior to getting the location ping that was sent to your phone, a silent yet deafening message being sent to you.

Mitsuya listened to everything, seeing how you were when reiterating the story to him, watching how you fidgeted and struggled to finish the story towards the end. You were never the same after that, the lasting effects of witnessing and living through something so traumatizing was something you dealt with on a daily basis. You told him that the first few months you had nightmares every night, some so bad that you forced yourself to stay awake for days on end which only made you incoherent at work. Therapy was something you now go to three times a week, it does help but he sees the anger behind your eyes when you say you shouldn’t need it. 

You were closed off when Mitsuya came to you, another result of what you had been through. He remembers vividly of your warnings to him, you were so adamant on telling him that you weren’t the same girl he once knew, you couldn’t be. If you could’ve given him a powerpoint presentation as to why he shouldn’t be with you, you would have if you were given the time. But he didn’t care, he just smiled that same comforting smile he’s always had at you just waiting on you to finish the 15th reason as to why he’d be better off with someone else. 

The look on your face when he just waited for you to finish and proceed to ask you out on a date was something he cherished, the little gap your lips made in astonishment and wide eyes was something to snicker at. He was going to be the one to break down this concrete wall you had built up. 

Days turned into weeks which turned to months and here you were, almost a year together and if you were being completely honest you were surprised. You didn’t expect a relationship to come from him, but when it did, the guilt that started to eat away at you displayed so vividly that you were so sure that he was going to cut and run at the earliest convenience, but he stayed, he kept his feet planted firmly down and promised to help you, he told you that you weren’t alone in this and for the first time in a long time you didn’t feel alone. 

Mitsuya was never a rebound to you, you never wanted him to be just someone to take up the space that Ken once filled up, you don’t think that anyone could truly do that. Being with Mitsuya you learned that it’s okay to keep ahold of those memories you held so close when it came to Ken, that still loving Ken was okay even if you were now with Mitsuya. With the relationship you now had it was easier than you had expected because he had seen all of you, all of your troubles and hardships, and what you needed. There were no points of uncertainty because he was there to help you through it all. If that’s the secret to the strong bond and how it formed so fast for you two you’d be happy to say it aloud and shout it from the rooftops, although you still have your troubles it’s easier to talk to someone who isn’t being paid to listen. 

Despite the fact that your relationship with him wasn’t always like this and your feelings for Mitsuya were more of a slow agonizing burn than something that blossomed like a beautiful flower in the springtime. Your feelings crept up slowly, once treating him like a foreign object that was protruding into you deeper and deeper until you felt the ache subside, you caught yourself waiting on his calls, always happening around the same time, and just like clockwork you let it ring three times before answering. You started to miss his absence and sweet words, always knowing what calms you down when you’re more anxious about the world around you. You genuinely liked him, although the thoughts of uncertainty always loomed in the back of your mind. The guilt eats you away in random moments of the day, when you feel content it hits harder than you’d like. Would Ken be upset with you? This was his friend, his close friend to be exact and it felt wrong. Continuing on with life was something you needed to do, you had to keep going on, so why did you still feel this way? Was it too soon to move on? Should you have stayed alone and dealt with this all yourself rather than finding solace in another person? Was it fair for you to find happiness while Ken couldn’t feel anything anymore? He was gone, dead and buried yet here you are alive and tormented by nothing but the thoughts of him and what could’ve been. 

“We’ll get through this.” Mitsuya’s voice brings you back to him, his voice was as quiet as a whisper but came through so loud in your head. He always has a way of bringing you back down. Your throat still hurt and you could still feel the drum of your heart pounding against your chest. “We’ll get past this.”

Past this… Past Ken… God, if only he was still here. You wouldn’t be like this, you wouldn’t be in pain and constantly having a battle within yourself, you wouldn’t be– 

“I love you.” Mitsuya’s voice cut in. 

Suddenly everything stopped; time, sound, your breathing. The words that left his lips danced around in the atmosphere circling around you both. You raise your head and look at him, lavender eyes wide open as he stares right back at you. He’s terrified, the silence in the air making him more nervous than he’d like to be. 

It slipped, of course he feels that way but he didn’t want to say it until he was absolutely sure you felt the same. A childlike way of going about things but who could blame him when you looked the way you did right now, you were stunned, you might as well have been hit with a stun gun with the way you seemed to be frozen just from three simple words that carried so much weight to them and worry was now creeping up on him, God knows you’ve tried pushing him away before but now this just might be the final blow to send you running away from him for good. 

“Say it again.” You speak up, albeit quietly and unsure of the words that you had just heard but still understood by Mitsuya. 

He swallows down the fear that creeps up his throat, the look he gives you is uncommon yet raw, shifting to face you more, his hand grazes up your arm until it rests against your cheek, and his thumb brushes against the soft skin as he takes a deep needed breath. “I love you–” 

Mitsuya felt your lips on him before he could finish let alone process what was happening. Your eyes squeezed together tight and hands squeezed around his wrist even tighter. If a single kiss could condense a million thoughts and promises in one, this would be it. He kisses you back, lips forming against yours and bleeding all the passion between the words he said to you behind it. Your lips were warm and soft against his which was a stark contrast to your bodies, his was cold to the touch; chest pricked with goosebumps as your warm hands roamed over him. He snaked an arm around you quickly tugging you closer all while shifting to hover over you. You feel his weight bare more on top of you, one hand holding himself up as his other slides under your shirt just enough to feel your skin against his. 

Your skin felt like a million fireworks were being set off on top of it, the way his hand set them off in an instant made you feel so many things: excitement, regret, acceptance, guilt.  

The thought of Ken slips into your mind. Of all times to be here, you thought. You were always so shy with him, the memories of your first time flooded in like a dam that had finally burst. His face; rosy cheeks and the beads of sweat that graced his body, he was praising you the entire time, telling you how good you were doing and how beautiful you looked under his body. His hands; how strong they were when you finally switched positions, he so easily lifted you up and brought you back down his cock with such ease. And his mouth; the way he effortlessly spewed such filth on top of the sweet and loving words he’d call you. And his-

You shake those thoughts away, needing wanting to focus on the man in front of you. 

Your hands find their way to his hair, fingers grazing the side where his tattoo stays hidden. Strong hands find place at your waist and soon fingers dexterously hook into the waistband of your bottoms and tug them down.

He wishes he could take his time with you, wanting to go as slow as he can to savor this moment, but the way he’s tugging your top off and pulling his sweats down he can’t help it. Your hands move quickly as well, tugging at his boxers with a slight tremor. Nerves running rampant at this very moment, you want this, you need this with him. You want to get this right. 

You’re both so sweaty as his cock is thrusted back into you continuously. The oversensitivity for how long you two have been going is catching up to you and tears well up in your eyeline ready to fall. Just a little more and you’ll get there, teetering on the edge of ecstasy and falling back down to losing your high. 

Mitsuya’s thrusts weren’t rough but were just enough to pull the small whimpers from you. His hands were on your hips pushing you deeper into the mattress with every thrust that kissed your walls, it was needy, the way your legs hooked behind him pulling him deeper and deeper just chasing that high you couldn’t reach. Your brows furrowed in frustration and he saw that, he saw how you’ve been trying for so long just to finally cum. His thumb pressed into your clit rubbing small, quick circles to help you but that barely did anything. 

Your walls fluttered around him for the nth time that night but almost like a mental block you don’t reach your peak, your walls stop gripping around him while a pout forms on your face and a huffed out sigh that was quietly heard. You couldn’t get yourself to finish. 

Mitsuya swallows thickly as the words he’s about to say cause a deep churn in his stomach. “If you need to say…” he swallows them down, hips slowing down in the process yet still flush against yours, “his name. If that makes all of this easier for you, then say it.”

You snap your head up to look at him. Disbelief filling your brain from the words he just said. His name. Say Ken’s name…

“Takashi-”

“It’s fine-fuck.” He groans, his hips slowly pulling out until just the tip then slowly thrusts back in, a certain fervor behind it that makes your ears ring. His pace picks up, the shallow sound of his hips meeting yours until another groan leaves him. “You need this.”

He leans down and his lips latch onto the sweet spot to your neck, licking a stripe up until you visibly shiver. Your arms hook under his own, holding him tight against your chest. His own groans of pleasure in your ear spurring you on further. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, tears finally falling past your waterline as you allow yourself to think about him, bringing those thoughts you so desperately tried pushing away earlier this night. You think about how Ken would grab you, hold you, kiss you, touch you. Imagining that he was the one to touch you now, cock buried deep within your walls and groaning from how tight you squeeze him. If you thought hard enough Mitsuya’s voice melded into his, the same deep vibrato you loved to hear, especially in the morning. Mitsuya’s cock buried in you soon blended in your thoughts of Ken, finally feeling as if it was Ken who was fucking you.

His name slips out of your lips before you realize what you’re doing, a gasp rips from you as you open your eyes wide. You meet Mitsuya’s pretty purple eyes that are already staring down at you. You couldn’t decipher what it was; he had a different appearance behind his eyes. “Again.” He says before thrusting into you harder, each thrust of his soon becoming rougher than the last and hitting all the sensitive spots inside that make you choke on your own moans. 

“Fuck…Ken.” You moan his name, this time a bit louder than the last. You clench down tighter than you have for the night, you were so close, Mitsuya could tell from the glossy look you had. 

“Come on baby, cum for me.” His voice was desperate, he needed you to cum, he needed to feel you unravel underneath him even if it wasn’t him who you had on your mind. 

He leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead, hips slamming in rougher that had you squealing out. His tip hitting deeper the harder he fucks up into you. You look up at him seeing that his eyes never left yours. “I love you.” is all you utter before finally crashing down. Body shaking as you orgasm, Mitsuya’s hips sputter as your own orgasm causes his, a flurry of curse words leaving his lips as he paints your walls with his cum.

It’s silent in the aftermath, just the sounds of heavy breathing from the both of you and the sound of the blankets shuffling as he pulls out, laying beside you. 

You both are at a loss for words, how has someone as pure hearted as Mitsuya lasted this long in a world so cold and fucked up? How did he end up with you? Were you also just the last string left he had left of Draken? Had his feelings been blinded by the pain he felt from losing him? How did you end up with someone so kind and understanding? Knowing no one else in this world would have the patience that he has had for you. How did a once calm night turn into tension that couldn’t be cut with the sharpest blade? 

You really fucked up this time, you both think to yourselves. 

Eventually, Mitsuya turns to flick the bedside lamp off, soon enveloping you in the darkness that you felt was your heart. You felt the blankets now cover you as you were pulled into him, the warmth of his body and his arm holding you tight allowing you to feel relieved in some way, you still felt cold inside, nonetheless. A sigh leaves both of your chests while you close your eyes and let the darkness take over. 

The last thought before falling asleep was of Ken.

Oh, how you missed him. 

If only it really was him.

networks: @enchantedforest-network @bitchcraftinc @ghostqueue

[strongheartneteyam]

Get your shit together so I can love you.

Pairing: human!jake sully x female!human!reader

CW: angsty, so angsty, established relationship, MIGHT BE TRIGGERING for some audiences, disabled person feeling insecure about their body, fluff, crying, yelling, cursing, sexual language, hurt, comfort, sexual content, mentions of sexual fluids, foreplay, mentions of fingering, jake touching reader's pussy. Please, tell me if I'm missing something 🥲

Author's note: This AU is set on 2009. Jake is just a regular 24 year old former marine who ended up losing the movement of his legs permanently after an unfortunate accident that happened while he was fighting for his country, amidst a terrible, unforgiving war. The reader is a 21 year old regular human girl. There is no sci-fi or aliens involved. I totally understand if it's not your cup of tea as it's almost not canon at all to the Avatar Universe. I guess I just kept most stuff canon to Jake as a character. As I said, it's an AU. Just call me Miss Marvel and call this a version of Jake that exists somewhere in the wide multiverse 😂 guys I'm way too sleepy and exhausted that I'm starting to sound a bit drunk... gonna shut my piehole up now. I hope you guys like it. ✨ I need to sleep ughhh ✨

Not proofread. Sorry, my babies, momma is always too tired n running low on time.

❃

I tapped on your window on your darkest night

The shape of you was jagged and weak

There was nowhere for me to stay, but I stayed anyway

You fire off missiles 'cause you hate yourself

But do you know you're demolishing me?

And then you squeeze my hand as I'm about to leave

Renegade (Big Red Machine feat Taylor Swift)

❃

You walked to your boyfriend's house, watching the starry dark sky above. It was a full moon night, its pale light bathing your skin as you thought about how you missed Jake. You had just gotten back from a family trip yesterday and hadn't had time to go over to Jake's house to see him yet. You were so anxious to see his face again that you didn't even bother to call him to let him know you were about to come over.

When you got there, as soon as you opened the door with the copy of the keys Jake had given to you, you saw a miserable looking man sitting on a wheelchair, staring at the wall, eating a burger and fries and drinking beer. You swore to God one day you'd slap his hand and tell him to eat healthier. He ate junk food and drank way too much. His face was grumpy and a little sad at the same time. But it was your Jake. It didn't matter to you that he always looked like he was done with everything, he was so freaking handsome and charming, so, you could get past his moodiness. At the end of the day, you loved him so very deeply it made you feel like there was not enough space for so much love inside your body.

"Hey, babyyy!" You say, locking the door behind you "Sorry for not calling before coming over. I'm gonna stay the night, okay? I missed you so much..." You walked towards Jake and kissed his warm cheek, leaving the keys on a piece of furniture nearby

"Hi, baby. I missed you like crazy. I'm so glad my girlfriend is back here with me." He smiled at you. That was the first time he smiled, in a truly happy way, that night. You were the light of his life, he always felt better when you were around. He had missed you like a mad man, especially at night, when he looked at pictures of you/the both of you together on his black laptop. "And I gave you the keys for a reason. No need to say sorry. It's not like I go out on Wednesday evenings anyway.. Or any night of the week" He laughed in sarcasm. "I'm always here at this time." You laughed a bit and he took another bite of his burger

"I'm gonna take a quick shower, ok? Be right back" you said loudly as you walked to the bathroom

The day you and Jake had decided to be in a serious relationship, after you let the words "I love you" slip off of your mouth, by accident (you didn't even know if he crushed back on you, let alone reciprocating your feelings), Jake was so insecure, thinking you were just playing him, that it took him one week after that happened to finally say "I love you" back. You were getting sadder and more impatient as time passed. When he finally did, it was through texting. When you saw the message in your cellphone screen, your heart raced like a wild horse in a big forest.

ত

Later that night, you and Jake were cuddling, half sitting, half laying on the couch. Jake watched a movie on the television as you tried to read a book. But your attention span was equal to zero. You felt your boyfriend's warmth beneath your body, so comforting, so inviting. You wanted him so bad. You two had been together for almost one year and no sex had ever happened. You were starting to think that maybe he didn't find you that attractive, after all. That thought was like a rusted knife digging into your heart.

You closed your book since you couldn't go past the same sentence you were reading and re-reading all over again, too many times.

You moved your body from where it was and sat on top of Jake's legs, straddling his lap, taking him by surprise. He looked at you wondering why you suddenly gave up on your book if you had been bugging him for months about how bad you wanted to read it, but, you preferred reading a physical copy, as you told him, so he bought a copy for you that he found on sale just so you could stop talking to him about the same thing over and over. But he was actually just kidding, inside his own mind. He bought it for you because he knew you were gonna get really excited, just like a little child, and thank him by showering him with kisses. He loved being kissed by his pretty girlfriend.

"The book wasn't interesting enough, babe? Weren't you dying to read it?" He chuckled and then smiled, placing his big, warm hands on your thighs, making the small, thin hairs of that part of your body stand on end

"I just can't concentrate right now. That's all..."

"Is everything alright?" He noticed the angst in your expression

"Jake... We've been together for almost one year now, and... we haven't had sex yet. Don't you... don't you feel the need to do it with me? Do you still feel attracted to me? Why do you never try to initiate anything other than kisses and caresses? You've never even tried to touch my boobs... and you told me you loved them, over texting"

"Wait, slow down a bit" Jake asked of you and you stopped to breathe a little "Of course I feel attracted to you." He put a small lock of your hair behind your ear, so he could see your beautiful face better "I want you so bad... so fucking bad, you got no idea, girl. You drive me insane, my girl. I can't resist you when you're sitting on my lap like this" He caressed your face softly, light blue eyes staring at your own

"Then don't. Don't resist me. You don't have to. You just have to let me kiss you and touch you and show you how wet you make me, without even doing anything crazy, just by touching my skin like this and letting me sit on your lap."

"Baby, I...I can't" Jake looked down, sadness clouding his beautiful face. You hated to see your boyfriend like that. Why didn't he realize he didn't need to be so insecure? You loved him, all of him. No matter how badly he always talked about his legs or the fact that he couldn't do even basic day to day activities easily, because of his disability, you didn't care. You loved him. Freaking loved him to death.

"Why not?!" You were desperate for an explanation

"I could never be all you need. I wish I could but that's wishful thinking. Don't fool yourself, (y/n)."

Your eyes got filled with tears and you felt a lump forming in your throat. It was like your chest was sore, bruised from his harsh words.

"You are all that I want! All that I need, Jake! Why can't-"

"Don't make it harder than it already is, (y/n)!" The blonde guy interrupted you, his words colder than ice, burning your skin, already so sensitive from from taking all the hurt Jake was causing you by not letting you just simply love him right, be his girlfriend... "Get off me, please." So freezing cold...

You were a crying mess already, so, you felt so weak you just obeyed him and stood up, leaving him free from your body. Jake transferred himself from the couch to his wheelchair as fast as he could. He then started wheeling himself away from where you were

"Please...Please!" You say, chasing your crazy boyfriend like an idiot, while he moves his wheelchair fast towards his small room "stop being so insecure and just lemme love you." Jake stops, his freckled pale arms turning the wheels around so he could look at you

"Why do you insist on being tied down to a cripple?! Don't you get it?! You are so, so damn beautiful, (y/n). Your smile, your hair, your body... Jesus, your fucking body... You're so hot. You deserve... a man who can give you all that a relationship can offer. I can't be that man. I will never be him. I'm sorry you don't get it, but it's time for you to move on!!!" He yelled. You've never seen Jake so angry. His face was red, his eyes were gleaming, tears starting to roll down his face. He felt like his heart was breaking in a billion little pieces. He'd rather go through war, become traumatized and then have his spine injured all over again, because, honestly, it would hurt him less than what he was doing to you right now. But he knew he had to do it. "I love my (y/n) so much, I always will. But she should be happy, free from me." He thought

"Stop running away from me, Jacob Sully!" You ordered, as soon as you catch up to Jake, getting inside his room, your breath heavier than normal "I'm warning you, I will take you in my arms, no matter if you say you're too heavy, and I will lay you on this bed, against your will, if that's what I need to do so you will stop pushing me away! And don't ever call yourself a "cripple" again! I swear to God, you're testing me tonight! I won't let you speak like that about yourself. Never again! Do you understand me?!" You almost screamed

Jake sighed heavily, in defeat. With both arms, he started to support himself on his wheelchair, moving his body to the bed.

One he was settled there, sitting down with his back against the cushioned bed frame, he spoke: "Baby, I'm sorry for yelling at you like that... it was wrong. You don't deserve that. Please, forgive me." Looking at you with those eyes he had you on your knees, every single time.

"It's okay..." You looked hurt but your forgave him. You wanted to try and forget that had ever happened.

"I love you... so much."

You gazed at him and felt a need to comfort him

You sat on his bed, beside him and held his hand. After some time, you and Jake were cuddling, you sitting on his lap. He brought his mouth to yours and kissed your lips. You missed his kisses so much that you got wet so easily, just like a virgin would.

Jake grabbed the back of your head with care and deepened the kiss, using his tongue to massage yours. The way he kissed you was leaving your lips slicked with his saliva. You moaned and he held tight on to your waist, heavy breathing, his warm breath colliding with your own, the two of you getting drunk on each other. His lips were crushing against yours and that felt so amazing.

Out of nowhere, he stopped the kiss and when you tried to kiss him again he gently pushed you away, seeming uncomfortable.

"I gotta stop, baby... I can't pleasure you more than this..." he looked defeated

"Of course you can. You have fingers and a mouth, don't you? Then put them to use, baby. Your girl is begging you to pleasure her. Don't you want to help me out a bit?" You started to kiss his neck gently but sloppy. You breathed his scent in. It was so familiar, so comforting to you. He smelled like home. Home, for you, was wherever Jake was, right by your side.

Jake was starting to slowly give in and he let out a breathy moan. You felt happiness creeping in your head, your heart beating faster.

Jake did something that in his mind, was so damn bold. He dared to touch you in a very intimate way - he was as nervous as a teenager having his first sexual experience - moving his hand from the bed sheet until it got to your entrance. Jake's breath faltered as he touched your coated folds gently, his chest tightening while he looked at your face. His light brows furrowing, his demons still trying to convince him that you could not be turned on because of him.

"Sweetheart, you're so soft... just so... so wet." He was getting shaky, aroused as hell, feeling how wet you were for him

He was finally ready to just relax and enjoy the moment, as he touched your coated pussy.

"Wait a bit, will ya?" You ask, getting off his lap, standing on your feet and then stripping down to him. Your clothes were laying on the floor, as you felt a little shy but excited to see his reaction to seeing your naked body for the first time.

"Fuck, my baby. How did I get so lucky? Your body is so fucking perfect...." He put his hand up in the air, towards your own hands and you grabbed it and let him sit you back on his lap.

Jake started to touch your breasts softly, his mouth slightly open, desire scorching his insides. Your skin burned so good beneath his fingers. Then, he placed his big fingers on your slit

"God, this fucking wet pussy..." he was having trouble breathing but he loved the way you messed with his head

"I'm all yours, baby. Please, just let go and make love to me. I need you so bad it hurts me physically." You begged him to put an end to your misery

"Is that what my babygirl really wants?" He murmured, his voice low and sexy, ringing on your ears

"Yes, my love. Please... I'm so wet, Jake... only for you, my baby." You felt his fingers touching your pussy and your body became limp

"I love your pussy, baby. So velvety, warm and juicy. Can't wait to slide my fingers inside of you over and over again until you're all sweaty and whimpering"

❃

[genericpuff]

This has been buggibg me for a while. What is the reason why Rachel dehumanizing nymphs?

Cause from what I'm seeing the nymphs getting the most screen time is Daphne, Minthe, Thetis, Psyche and a little bit of Leuce and Echo.

4 out of the 6 nymphs we see are very open in their sex appeal and flirty. Yet for some reason they get discriminated when Hera, Persophone, and Aphrodite do the same thing but get a pass because the are white coded rich people.

For my knowledge (but I could be wrong if so please correct me) nymphs are known to be seductive and sexy but they were well respected just like any other God. They were given given sacrifices to please them.

Is this just another case of Rachel being the so-called "folkorists" who has done the first Google link she see or could there just be how she interprets then but like the rest of her story misses the mark?

So there are a couple different and equally interesting theories on this.

Rachel has established it as canon that the nymphs are lower class. And there are a lot of stereotypes and prejudices against lower class women going into sex work, which we see in LO through characters like Minthe who work as car girls (notice how in the present story Thetis and Minthe are both personal assistants which is also a role that's commonly stereotyped as "the boss' sidepiece" as it's a role often occupied by women in service to men). Even Leuce isn't safe from this:

Normally I'd just say "good for her" but it's clear with how much Leuce has been turned into the delusional girl who "manifests" her fantasies that Rachel is once again conflating sexuality with more negatively-associated character traits for any woman who isn't Persephone (because when it's Persephone it's sexual liberation always, she's not a "sugar baby", she's a "workaholic" who "earned her position and wealth", but when it's Leuce or Minthe or Thetis they're "homewreckers") And yeah, this is a common disconnect that happens between lower class and upper class people, where lower class people (especially women) are often judged and outcast for doing certain things or behaving a certain way which rich upper class people take and adopt and turn into something "trendy" and "empowering".

But there's... another theory that may explain why so many nymphs in the story are being pigeonholed into the "homewrecking sugar babies" stereotype. And you're gonna hate me for this, because I'm sure the gut reaction to reading this from many is gonna be "goddamit not Lolita again!" buuuttt yeah we're gonna talk about Lolita again.

CONTENT WARNING: We're talking about Lolita again, which means discussion surrounding the sexualization of minors is ahead.

There's a certain term the main character of the book Humbert Humbert uses to describe girls who are specifically, and I quote:

"Between the age limits of nine and fourteen there occur maidens who, to certain bewitched travellers, twice or many times older than they, reveal their true nature which is not human, but nymphic (that is, demoniac); and these chosen creatures I propose to designate as 'nymphets'." - Lolita, Chapter 5, Page 18, paragraph 5

It's also very clear from the way Nabokov specifies the definition of nymphet from Humbert Humbert's perspective that the use of the word 'nymphet' is intentionally referencing the root word of Greek origin:

"...I would have the reader see 'nine' and 'fourteen' as the boundaries - the mirrory beaches and rosy rocks - of an enchanted island haunted by those nymphets of mine and surrounded by a vast, misty sea. Between those age limits, are all girl-children nymphets? Of course not. Otherwise we who are in the know, we lone voyagers, we nympholepts, would have long gone insane."

Though Humbert Humbert is obviously not being literal here, the visual metaphor is strongly relying on the etymology of the word 'nymph', but twisting the depiction of nymphs in such a way to support his own fantasies.

And while I'm definitely not trying to accuse Rachel of having the same mindset of Humbert Humbert (seriously, I want to make it clear that I don't think Rachel is a pedophile, just horribly misled at best), it's interesting to me how this specific definition of a nymphet matches with that of Rachel's old descriptions of her own art:

"You have to be an artist and a madman, a creature of infinite melancholy, with a bubble of hot poison in your loins and a super-voluptuous flame permanently aglow in your subtle spine (oh, how you have to cringe and hide!), in order to discern at once, by ineffable signs - the slightly feline outline of a cheekbone, the slenderness of a downy limb, and other indices which despair and shame and tears of tenderness forbid me to tabulate - the little deadly demon among the wholesome children; she stands unrecognized by them and unconscious herself of her fantastic power."

What's interesting is that I did dig up an old profile of Rachel's that actually acknowledged that what she's doing with her art shouldn't be conflated with, well... child porn.

"It's not THAT kind of lolita" and yet the writing feels like it's been smeared all over the wall with shit. There are so many scenes and artistic choices throughout LO that scream "it is that kind of lolita".

Though it is still a theory, and I don't resort to using Rachel's old art of "proof" of LO's shortcomings, I don't think it should necessarily be ignored that the nymphs in LO seem to be characterized very similarly to Humbert Humbert's description of 'nymphets' - devious and promiscuous, and thus easier to blame when predatory men pursue them, rather than holding those predatory men accountable. And we see this in Persephone too, but unlike the nymphs, Persephone is rich, upper class, and of a "superior pedigree". So she becomes the desirable form of a 'nymphet' that's praised and celebrated by the narrative and characters like Hades, rather than the literal nymphs who are shamed and outcast for simply having sexual independence.

Whatever theory you roll with is on you, you can dismiss all this as just overthinking nonsense, but I do think it makes for interesting food for thought because at this point, LO is undeniably - intentionally or subconsciously - influenced by Rachel's relationship with Lolita, and whether or not that influence is aware at all of Lolita being originally written to be a precautionary tale, that remains to be seen.

[clotpolesonly]

Declan's hair in tvTRC; a dissection

ok i'm sure you guys have been waiting with bated breath for me to weigh in on this particular subject (lol) but i needed a hot minute to collect my thoughts on the matter. turns out i've got quite a few, go figure.

first things first: i am contractually obligated to say it's a goddamn travesty of a departure from canon to make Declan fucking BLOND and why the FUCK did they do that??? i was screaming in dms the second he showed up on screen, my sister can attest to how far i threw my phone across the couch in my outrage. i mean, honestly who suggested that?? turn on ur location i just wanna talk

-deep breath-

okay got that out of my system

so we all knew immediately that it was stupid as shit and entirely unnecessary...............but i've got a confession to make

i don't hate it

at least, not anymore. i'm actually kinda fascinated by what they've done here and what it adds to Declan's character/what it says about him psychologically. especially because he doesn't stay blond -- his hair is only like that for a little under half of the first season, though it's unclear how long he's had it like that before (tv)canon starts.

what the show has done here is given Declan a relationship with his hair that's not entirely dissimilar to the one that Ronan has. it's never said explicitly i don't think, in either the books or the show, that Ronan shaved his hair off because 1) he looks too much like his dad with it long and 2) it's something that he can control, but it very much comes through anyway, and the same applies to Declan here.

both boys -- all three boys, actually, but Ronan and Declan especially, more than Matthew -- are made in Niall's image. they resemble him very strongly. they look in the mirror and, for better or for worse, they see their father, and that's something that becomes really fucked up and complicated when your father is murdered, and when you hate him, and when you're afraid of becoming him, and when you miss him.

Ronan dealt with it one way (shaving it all off, making himself unique) and Declan here dealt with it another way (distancing himself from his father, yes, but also doing it in a way that made him more similar to Matthew). (and to his mother, which is a point i'll come back to later; you know the scene i'm talking about.)

Declan is a control freak of epic proportions, we all know this, and seeing it manifest in changes to his hair is not remarkable i don't think, esp in conjunction with how meticulously he manages his wardrobe. everything in his life feels outside of his control, so he grasps at what he can to feel secure. that's textbook.

then he fights with Ronan. most of the scene plays out more or less as it does in the book, but i want to draw your attention this bit of dialogue --

Gansey: "Why are you even here?" Declan: "I don't need to explain myself to you, I can go wherever I like. Free country and all." Ronan: "Then you're free to go somewhere else." Gansey: "Ronan... Declan, just go." Declan: "He's failing almost all his classes. What, Ronan, did you think I didn't know? Your teachers call me every time you skip class, dumbass, you keep going like this and you're going to -- " [Ronan tries to punch him again, Gansey intervenes] Gansey: "That's enough, both of you! Look, Declan, I'm not saying you're wrong, but you are not Niall Lynch, and you never will be." Ronan: [scoffs] "Not looking like that. You and your bimbo girlfriend get a 2-for-1 special at the salon?" Gansey: "Ronan, knock it off." Declan: "Believe it or not, I'm trying to help you." Ronan: "Well, I don't. And I'll never forgive you."

the salon comment is a petty side swipe that made me snortlaugh ngl, but it's also a direct acknowledgement from Ronan that what Declan is doing with his hair is Declan, in his own way, trying to distance himself from Niall while simultaneously trying (and failing) to fill his shoes. he's shining a spotlight on Declan's biggest source of internal conflict in a way that's both casually cruel (Ronan's specialty tbh) and humiliatingly dismissive. what an effective jab at someone like Declan who is, underneath his deliberately unremarkable exterior, every bit as proud as Ronan is. he's trying to be Niall and he's failing so badly even Gansey's begging him to stop, and he's trying to be Not Niall and he's so obvious about it as to be pathetic and laughable.

it's notable that the blond doesn't stay much longer. we only see it once more -- delivering his ultimatum to Ronan through Adam as he gatekeeps Declan at monmouth, a confrontation i must note is between a natural blond (Adam) and a fake one (Declan), and no words are exchanged about it but we do get a rather pointed look at the hair from Adam right before he delivers his line about fighting and it being "Ronan's thing" that makes Declan back off -- before we get to the biggest departure from Declan's canon arc and what i really want to talk about:

✨ the dorm room dye job ✨

this is, honestly, my favorite non-book-canon scene in this adaptation so far. that probably does not surprise anyone, because i am me, but hear me out!!!

let's run through what we actually get in this scene:

- Matthew asking Declan what he, Matthew, is doing in the morning, and Declan rattling off Matthew's entire schedule for the week, all while nagging him through his bedtime routine - Declan texting Ronan repeatedly and getting left on read - Declan trying and failing to sleep (intercut with Ronan and Gansey sharing insomnia time), growing more restless and texting Ronan some more until Ronan blocks his number and the texts stop being delivered - Declan going to their suite's bathroom to dig out a cheap dusty box of hair dye from the back of the cabinet and rushing through the process of mixing and applying it while Matthew sleeps - Declan staring at himself in the mirror and then smearing dye across his reflection

obviously, exactly none of this is book canon, and i don't not understand why some fans are crying foul on screentime they consider "wasted". should priority have been given to book canon elements and scenes? yeah, probably, and there are things that didn't make it into the show that i would've been glad to sacrifice this scene for, HOWEVER i want to talk about why this scene, as presented, within this slightly alternate show canon, is worth its screen time imo.

the show is really making an effort toward expanding the characters and relationships outside the insular gangsey -- the fox way ladies and the Gansey family have both gotten subplots, and much more attention is being paid to the Lynch bros than we got canonically this early in TRC.

without being inside the POVs of Ronan's friends like we are in the books, it makes sense that we get to see Declan more objectively for the overburdened teenager that he is. we get to actually SEE him being relied upon to manage and parent Matthew, day and night, no breaks. sharing even a bedroom with him, there is no reprieve and no retreat from that responsibility.

and we see him trying to manage Ronan too, which is overbearing and aggressive, yes, but we also see his preoccupation and his mounting anxiety. the little tics like him tapping his thumb against his thigh and the breathing technique he employees (the same one that Ronan uses in ep 2). unlike when they were brawling in the parking lot, Declan defends Ronan to Matthew ("he probably just lost his phone again" despite all of his messages being read). (this is a characterization tidbit described in Greywaren actually, in case any viewers haven't read TD3, that Declan was always far more understanding of Ronan and his behavior to Matthew than he was in confrontations with Ronan himself).

i digress, anyway, Declan tries repeatedly to get through to Ronan until the messages stop being delivered and Declan (correctly) assumes that Ronan has blocked his number (again).

all that nervous energy boils over and Declan beelines for the bathroom. he obviously knows that the box of dye is in there, he goes right for it. it's ambiguous how long it's been there -- either it was there before they moved into this room, in which case it may have been what inspired Declan to bleach his hair in the first place, or he may have bought it himself months ago and decided not to use it (probably because it's cheap and he usually has higher standards than that lol, he'd rather get it done professionally).

but this is not a moment for standards. this is an impulse. it's rushed and clumsy and jittery. he tears the box getting it open. he fumbles the little conditioner thing. he tosses the instructions aside with barely a glance. his phone is right there on the kitchen counter, always in the frame but face down, conspicuous in just how much Ronan is not texting him back.

this is, as mentioned up top, a bid for control. Ronan is uncontrollable, a variable he cannot account for and a loved one he cannot protect, and so Declan does what a lot of teenagers in fucked up circumstances do -- fucks with his hair before he can think better of it.

the only thing that slows him down is dropping the bottle, which almost wakes Matthew up. Matthew, right over Declan's shoulder in the mirror. Matthew, always in the frame just like the silent phone, always on Declan's mind, never allowed to more than an arm's length away.

Matthew is in the background of this entire scene. every shot of Declan's breakdown, Matthew is there, if indistinctly.

and there's something else about the cinematography that really elevates this scene, and that's the fact that, once Declan enters the bathroom, the entire thing is shot through the mirror. we don't get another shot of Declan straight on to the camera in this episode, we only see his face in reflection. we are seeing Declan seeing himself, which is perhaps the truest way to view him, especially in this moment.

remember that this was catalyzed primarily by Ronan's judgment (and Adam's, and Gansey's). Ronan ridiculed Declan for his hair a few episodes ago, not just for its own sake because it looks ridiculous but specifically in conjunction with talk of their father and Declan's inability to fill his shoes. Ronan essentially called Declan a failure and a phony, and the hair now symbolizes both.

Declan is so so conscious of how he is perceived, constantly thinking of himself within the context of how others think of him rather than engaging in actual self-knowledge. he is his own panopticon and this scene showcases that EXCELLENTLY.

which makes this messy breakdown so interesting, because it is unobserved by anyone but himself and, in the end, he obscures even that. he blacks his hair with bare hands (buddy, that's gonna stain so noticeably afkdjh) and then stands there, staring into the mirror at his own reflection -- at his own failure to perform the identity he's chosen for himself -- until he can't bear to see it anymore, and then he smears the dye along the mirror to block it all out. all that messiness, that vulnerability, hidden even from his own eyes.

and of course i need to touch on the identity of it all. of course i do!! because hair color means something in the Lynch family!! the resemblance the older boys have for Niall is so integral to the family dynamic and how they all relate to and interact with each other. the boys have daddy issues out the wazoo, and you would too if you were Made In Your Father's Image.

for Ronan, looking like dad was a source of pride for a long time, and is now a source of pain. but for Declan, looking like dad is equal parts pain and shame. everything Declan is, so much of his facade, was deliberately constructed to be different from his father -- Niall was reckless, so Declan is careful. Niall was loud, so Declan is staid. Niall was volatile, so Declan is predictable. Niall was eye-catching, so Declan is invisible.

and now, Niall was a brunet, so Declan is blond. it's another step along the road of rebellion against the legacy he inherited. Niall claims god broke the mold, but Declan knows just how similar they are, both physically and in their natural inclinations (though we haven't gotten into the latter much yet in the show). his father is not a man he respected and he is deeply afraid of being too much like him.

Declan bleaching his hair was a reaction to that, and it was a reasonable one, but it was also fundamentally, in both Declan's eyes and Ronan's, a disavowal of his connection to and place in the family. in rejecting his resemblance to dad (and therefore Ronan), Declan functionally declared himself Not A Lynch.

which makes this, dying his hair dark again, a bit of a reclamation? in a way? or, no. that would feel triumphant, and this scene has the definite air of tragedy.

maybe i should say it's a concession instead. the waving of a white flag. it's an admission that trying to disavow his family is a losing game. he cannot cover up what he is. no amount of bleach can wash away his father's blood in his veins. he will never be Niall Lynch, but he will always be Niall Lynch's son, for better or for worse, and there's no point in trying to pretend otherwise.

this scene is Declan giving up on his last desperate bid for an identity separate from the legacy he inherited. there's irony there, and honestly i find it very in keeping with what we get from him in some of the flashback details in TD3. i wrote a meta a while ago about the moth's wooden box and the alexandria townhouse both as symbols of Declan's complicity in his own oppression as a child -- ie, cages that Declan chose to step into of his own volition, because feeling powerless is worse than feeling trapped.

in this context, dying his hair dark again feels very similar. he's feeling powerless and so he makes the choice to figuratively reclaim his position in the family, even if that position is and has always been awful and traumatizing and something he's spent his entire life trying to break free from, because the alternative is to acknowledge that there is nothing that he can do to free himself. he would rather be complicit than helpless.

there may or may not be something to unpack with Declan choosing blond, especially that shade rather than something that would've been more aesthetically fitting for him like a cooler platinum shade. namely that, in distancing himself from his resemblance to Niall, he actually strengthened his resemblance to Matthew and also to Aurora. he could've dyed his hair some middling shade of brown and honestly it would've been far more in line with his desire to be bland and pedestrian, but he chose a hair color that aligned with the other half of his family (the dreamt half of his family).

was it some subconscious desire to replace their mother for Matthew's sake? Matthew was Aurora's favorite, he was the closest to her and undoubtedly the one who took her loss the hardest in the immediate aftermath, and we know that Declan took up the kinds of duties that used to be Aurora's like cooking Matthew good meals and being his emotional support (as best he could).

the fact of Declan taking on Aurora's most defining feature in the aftermath of her falling asleep (to him, functionally, her death) and his staunch refusal recognize her humanity (such as it is) or to engage with her memory is really haunting, imo. honestly, Aurora and his relationship with her is such an underrated factor in Declan's psychology, she had such an enormous impact on him that's rarely discussed in the detail it deserves. here it's like his feelings about her are leaking out of him subconsciously even as he's trying his damnedest to repress them.

or, hell, idk, that might be reading too much into it. it may just have been that blond was as far from his natural color as he could get.

but honestly it doesn't feel coincidental. nothing in this arc does, which surprised the hell out of me as i was watching. "Declan is blond now actually" is the kind of cracky nonsense that should've had me flipping tables, but it turns out, when it's a concept that's actually executed with thought and attention to detail and a real understanding of the character, blond!Declan is something that can actually be so personal.

so

thank you for coming on this journey with me. if you read this far, your brainrot is probably nearly as strong as mine is for writing it. i might write another one later digging into some more of the details from the back half of season 1, but for now, i need to go outside and touch some grass or something. stay tuned i guess. <3

[viviennevermillion]

Sharing a tent with him ♡

author's notes: set during vargas camp. unfortunately i never found a full translation of the second one so if anything here contradicts canon, just roll with it. spontaneously writing this at 10pm after vowing i'm gonna go to bed early today so i can go to work earlier. oops. also picsart gold is making me go off with the headers so I'm making these for literally every character because i have no life. contains: malleus draconia x gn!fae!reader, cuddling warnings: none

Malleus, as always, is happy to go on a trip outside of Night Raven College; especially if he gets to share the experience with you and in this case Lilia as well. To be honest, you weren't exactly excited about spending your days in the woods near the creepy dwarf mine, engaging in sports and camping activities; but the presence of a certain fae prince made you look forward to it at least a little.

That feeling only multiplied when Vargas announced the students would be sharing tents in groups of 2-3 people and Kalim and Cater excitedly asked Lilia to have a Pop Music Club sleepover. "I'm sorry you two, but I think I'll have to decline. I'm sure Malleus-" "I'll share a tent with Malleus", you blurted out and the dragon fairy raised an eyebrow at you but immediately shot you an amused grin. "You seem quite eager", Malleus put his hands on his hips and smiled at you, "very well. I'll allow it. Just be sure you won't be frightened halfway through." You could tell he was joking and Lilia chuckled at Malleus's obvious excitement about the matter.

Malleus absolutely adored the fact that you wanted to be close to him and spend time with him; that you even felt comfortable enough to fall asleep around him. He sucked up every piece of evidence for that like a sponge, already craving the next instance of you expressing how much you valued him as a companion.

You let out a long sigh after Malleus broke the tent pole for the third time by hitting it too hard with the hammer. "Here let me be so courteous as to help you", you teased and put the pole into the ground, firmly hitting it with the hammer a few times until you felt that it was firmly stuck in the ground. "So, what do we do now?", Malleus seemed at a loss, trying to inspect the instructions on the information sheet Vargas had given you, "why do they explain these things in pictures? Why not put words too? I have no idea what this means." You could see him pouting and took the sheet from him with a laugh. "Be glad you'll never have to put furniture together yourself because that's just like this but worse", you sighed and inspected the pieces for the tent, "okay so....uh....I think this big thingy goes onto the pole and then we....uh-" You tried building the tent and helplessly watched the pole tip over and your "tent" sink to the ground. "You know, on second thought, maybe we should just sit down and wait until Vargas does it himself", you gestured awkwardly and sat down on a tree trunk.

"Oh but we are supposed to do it ourselves. After all we won't be able to understand the feelings of humans once they experience the joys of camping after all the hard work it takes to prepare it", Malleus smiled. "You're too eager for your own good", you took a deep breath. "You were the one who wanted to share a tent with me so badly", he grinned and it was clear he was relishing in the fact that you hadn't hesitated even a second to suggest pairing up with him for this trip. "You're making me sound desperate", you shook your head in disappointment and Malleus chuckled, reaching out his hand to you.

"I'm sure this is going to turn out to be quite pleasant if we commit to it. Once we're finished with our work we can be proud of the result. It might not be perfect but it'll be ours and we can share it for the next few days like a temporary home for just the two of us-" His words made your heart flutter and you took his hand and got up. "How could I say no when you put it like that?", you sighed and continued trying to build the tent.

You enjoyed a nice evening with Malleus and the other students; grilling marshmallows over the campfire and listening to the others talking about experiences they had with camping so far. There were fireflies surrounding you, nothing too unusual for being around Malleus, and the atmosphere was a peaceful one that made both of you feel happy and content.

The two of you were the last ones at the campfire, watching the embers as well as the stars above. You rested your head on Malleus's shoulder as a shooting star passed the night sky. Malleus leaned his head against yours and closed his eyes, a peaceful smile on his face as well. Malleus put out the fire and the two of you went to bed, turned to each other in your sleeping bags.

You watched curiously as Malleus pulled out something from his backpack. It was an enchanted lamp, shaped like a rose. Small, soft lights were dancing across the petals, bouncing off the ceiling of the tent. "These are quite popular in Briar Valley. I thought you might like it, so I brought it along", he smiled and put it somewhere where both of you could look at it. The conversation about the lamp evolved into a quiet talk about Briar Valley; Malleus telling you all sorts of stories about his homeland and mentioning a variety of places he was going to show you if you wanted to visit. He spoke with fondness until both of your words had turned to mere whispers.

If you don't pull the good old "I'm so cold" trick to try and be closer to him, he definitely will.

Malleus was amused at how almost dramatic you were about it. "It's so icy in this tent... I'm going to freeze to death....whatever shall I do?", you sighed with a sorrowful expression on your face and Malleus looked at you seriously. "I could make a fire to warm-" "GOD NO", you gestured wildly as you felt Malleus's fire magic manifesting within the tent. He put the flame out just as fast as it had appeared. He seemed to ponder the predicament further, then smirking at you. "Of course...you could always come closer if you dare", he teased, "I won't mind." "You don't have to tell me that", you smirked back.

That was how you ended up snuggled against Malleus in his sleeping bag, your own sleeping bag long discarded to the side. You had your head rested on his chest and your arms wrapped tightly around him. "This is a strange feeling....but not unpleasant. I like it", Malleus mused and absentmindedly started drawing circles on your shoulders, "although something tells me you had intended for this all along." He smiled as you confirmed his suspicion, a little flustered from the fact that he had seen through you. "There's no need to shy away from me", he clarified, "you need only ask. I don't mind being close to you." He breathed out and closed his eyes, leaning his cheek against your forehead.

The two of you remained silent for a while, until you weren't even sure if he was still awake. "Malleus?", you whispered; a quiet "hmm?" signaling that he wasn't asleep. You hesitated for a moment, your fingertips running up and down his arm. "I just wanted to say...", you took a deep breath, "I've really grown to treasure your presence in my life... You've become very important to me and being around you....well....makes me happy. I'm glad to have met you. I hope you know that." You could hear Malleus's heart beating faster against your ear and you felt him trying to pull you even closer.

"That means quite a lot to me", he whispered back, his lips grazing your forehead as he spoke, making you wish he'd just press a kiss to your skin already, "I feel the same about you. Thank you for being part of my life." You squeezed him gently in your embrace, making him smile.

You remained silent for a few moments, thinking about what you should say next. "You know.... I've spent all my life going from place to place; meeting all kinds of people and experiencing the brief but meaningful moments that life among humans had to offer, but I never really stuck around anywhere. There was nothing that I felt could capture my interest forever; just a century even. The people I met were just as fleeting as my time spent with them. I never had any reason to settle down", you whispered and took his hand into yours, running your thumb across his soft skin, "but now that I've met Lilia, Silver, Sebek and especially you, for the first time I'm certain I want to stay. Do you think there might be place for me in Briar Valley?"

Malleus was awestruck, his eyes widening with every word you spoke. Surprise made him incapable of even replying for a minute. His heart fluttered and there was a feeling of warmth and love in his chest that he didn't even know he craved this much but that henever wanted to miss out on again. You really wanted to stay...with him...as if it was the most self-evident thing possible.

Malleus's expression turned into a soft smile eventually and he squeezed your hand back. "I'm sure that could be arranged", he whispered with an adoration in his voice that was hard not to pick up on, "got anything in mind already?" You closed your eyes, focusing on his chest rising and falling and the soft sound of his breathing. You knew what you wanted. But you didn't dare say it yet. "We'll see." Malleus nodded. Perhaps you could be a guard. Or an attendant. Or an advisor. Or perhaps...the idea he undoubtedly liked the most: You could stand at his side, watching over the country alongside him; forever united in the love you felt for one another.

"Yes. We'll see", he confirmed and wrapped his arms tighter around you; the dreams you two shared remaining unspoken for now. But Malleus knew just as well as you did where he wanted to take the bond you had. Just say the word and I'm yours, he thought, falling asleep with you in his arms and a peaceful smile on his face.

[crimsonxe]

Because I'm particularly annoyed: To everyone within the LGBT+ and ships involving them circles, get this through your goddamn head. RWBY the "little" anime-inspired web show that:

subverts sexist and homophobic tropes from that inspiration

has a deep & mature story

respects its femme characters

that has had morons saying it was baiting for years

has a married wlw couple w/ child; 2 confirmed lesbian characters; 2 mlm characters in the novels; a bi MC (VA'd by a bi femme)/a sapphic MC (VA'd by an "on the spectrum" femme)/ and together a wlw MC pair; a trans character that isn't a joke

THAT show DELIVERED one of the most normalized via being treated no different to its hetero sibling ships, being within a non-world of gay, and not being spotlighted; well-developed; well-earned; 10 year steady slowburned; and mature CANON wlw romances around. That including having a bi character that feels bi not a lesbian character w/ a bi sticker slapped on cause not only does she have guys w/ feelings towards her as well as a former male romantic partner, but also has a femme w/ feelings towards her as well as a current femme partner in a non-world of gay. The fucking cherry on top: it has Beauty and the Beast at its core mixed with yin-yang.

Get the fuck over this notion of "oh that's just RWBY" in a head-up-ones-own-ass obnoxious manner. Before it was the goddamn "well BB isn't confirmed, its just been hinted/teased" even with the show making it fucking blatantly clear it was happening, including soft-canonizing it via a character directly bringing up the mutual romantic feelings going on between the two tying it to her own ones towards the other part of the sibling hetero pair of the show. Now after its been given one of the best most beautifully done scenes in the entire show w/ a goddamn song written by an LGBT+ artist and sung by both them & another LGBT+ femme to canonize them; its STILL being treated/view like its both bait/non-canon and/or lesser than other pairs. Its especially fucking rich when I know some people who'd sing the praises of Warrior Nun and Avatrice, which is in the same goddamn vein as RWBY and BB with both being great ships and shows. If anyone tried to pull this shit with that show & that pairing, you'd get your damn ass torn apart and you know it; but RWBY isn't given that same respect. Caitvi/Violyn (Arcane) gets more damn respect and technically speaking its not even fucking canon yet, its still in the phase that either v4-7 BB was at. Where its been heavily implied & teased to the point of me going with it as soft-canon, yet not a damn soul would scoff at it being mentioned within LGBT+ ships. But once again RWBY is different.

Those that pull this shit are:

the shit-for-brains know-nothings that either want to shit on the show because of their own hoity-toity its too below us bullshit or haven't bothered to actually watch the damn show

the bigoted incel pieces of shit that just don't support LGBT+ yet infest our spaces;

the antis that don't care what was built up, they're salty bitches that just can't stand their pair didn't happen

the entitled ass LGBT+ that think all LGBT+ should be rushed, spotlighted at the center of the story, and aimed at an LGBT+ audience instead of normalized for a general audience.

So if you're going to thumb your nose at the show and its rep, then fuck you and go fuck your damn self. You're no damn better than the incels and chuds. And don't even think to reach for any LGBT+ cards cause I've got my own one. They're canon and they're great get that through your fucking heads, that little web show fucking delivered. Don't like it? Fine, I don't really care. But don't you fucking dare thumb your damn nose at it and not expect to get dragged over the damn coals by me.

[seriousbrat]

you said james changed but did he? no apology in sight... still tricking lily and going behind her back to hex snape.. leaving his wife and newborn alone in their secret hiding spot to mess with muggles..

genuinely lol what is this 'leaving their hiding spot to mess with muggles' thing, I think you're the second anon who has claimed something like that recently and it's like.... where lmao. when did that happen? who r these muggles? 😭

if you're referring to the prequel, that was almost certainly, like 100% certainly, before harry was born when lily and james were fighting for the Order along with the rest of the Marauders and not in hiding. This is what Lily says, years later, in her letter to Sirius:

James is getting a bit frustrated shut up here, he tries not to show it but I can tell -- also, Dumbledore's still got his Invisibility Cloak, so no chance of little excursions. If you could visit, it would cheer him up so much.

doesn't that imply he wasn't sneaking out? and if he had left the hiding spot in the past it was "little excursions" with Lily's full knowledge and approval, with the safety of the cloak. I don't see the big deal, and it's possible that Lily was leaving the house on occasion too when they had the cloak.

people are so determined to see things in the worst possible light it's kind of funny. It's not enough that James was a dickhead and a bully in canon, he has to be this insidious abusive master manipulator guy who somehow conned Lily "you make me SICK" Evans into marrying her and having a kid with him. Like, no offence but it's just not that deep.

We don't see how he changed because the story isn't about him, it's about his son, but there's plenty of evidence that he did, a BIG example being that a girl who couldn't stand the sight of him and was extremely vocal about the fact ended up marrying him. Something changed, and it's just highly unlikely that James, a fictional character, constructed an elaborate ruse behind the scenes that we see no evidence for to trick Lily, and every other character, into thinking he was an entirely different person. If that had been the author's intent for these characters who, btw, do not exist outside the text we're given, there would be proof of it. Rather, we're given evidence he 'deflated his head' and that lily fell in love with him and that they were happy together.

I've already said it but I don't think James not telling her about fighting with Snape (who, let it be said, at that point was also instigating) is a good thing. Obviously. It's dishonest and he should have told her. But I also think a likely reason he didn't tell her was not wanting to hurt her. That doesn't make it okay, but there can be problems and slip-ups and things to work through in a relationship without it being some big evil insidious manipulation.

Sev hid all sorts of things from her too, important things like "I'm thinking about joining the Death Eaters btw lol". People lie and hide things, especially teens. Maybe the simplest explanation here, rather than this weird jamespiracy thing, is that a seventeen year old boy was kind of shit sometimes but ultimately dedicated his life to protecting others, fought bravely in a war, grew tf up, and sacrificed himself to save his wife and child.

idk like to me it's not that deep, and it's continually bonkers to me that some snape fans will have wildly different standards for their innocent baby boy (idk him) than they do for every other character. bro did way worse stuff than not telling his gf he was getting into fights, james did worse stuff, and yet I still love them both and u wont convince me not to

[mwolf0epsilon]

Sometimes being in the SW Fandom is about diving into the annals of the internet researching the most obscure tidbit of batshit insane Canon or EU Lore imaginable to man (which is honestly my favorite thing to do because people have done some pretty insanely funny things with this universe and characters). But for the majority of the time, being in the SW Fandom is also watching people repeat a cycle of asinine arguments that make an absolute ass out of them for the worst possible reasons.

So here's a quick reminder of past arguments to be mindful of and always consider, when you see something in the tags that makes you wrinkle your nose at:

Everyone has something they like or dislike about the overall universe and story. Be it the Original Trilogy, the Prequels, the Sequels, the Animated series, the Live-Action series, EU stuff, Novels, etc. No one is above or below anyone else just because they don't love the entirety of the universe and/or the direction the current writers are taking it.

Canon can be a good baseline for your own creative purposes. You don't have to love it (because yes the whole thing can be inconsistent as hell), but don't get to a point in your fanfic/AU world-building where you vehemently deny that canon is an actual thing. This goes hand in hand with your personal depiction of characters vs someone else's depictions. Reading comprehension and the creative process depend on perspective and how you process the information you're given, so it's only normal that no two person's idea of a character is the same. But saying that your headcanons are how the characters should be written by everyone is not gonna do you any favors in the long run, because it's not up to you to decide on that. Don't forget Blorbo's actual roots and what it took to get him where you took him, but don't try to force someone else to accept the journey you orchestrated for them!

No one's OC should be put on a pedestal. It's good that people feel comfortable enough to play Barbies with each other's OCs in roleplay sessions, or even add a cameo in a fic to a character of a friend and/or artist/writer they admire from a distance. Hell, the fact many people are passionate about someone else's little fella/s is great! But the moment someone's OC becomes an object of obsession within a Fandom community, things can go a little wrong... It stops being fun to be in that kind of space that goes from welcoming OC discussions to suddenly shunning new people in favor of someone's Ultimate Blorbo who now has a Cult Following and should be written into every fanfic ever.

No one is evil for lacking knowledge or self-awareness of certain grievances that people rightfully have with the source material. The SW Fandom has always had a long-standing issue with racial stereotyping, whitewashing, cultural appropriation, sexism and many other equally serious topics that have been more eloquently explained in posts made by people much more eloquent and qualified than I am or ever will be. However, one must recognize that not everyone who joins the Fandom is immediately aware of these things. Especially the younger generations that have either not been exposed to these concepts due to one reason or another (upbringing, biased educational curriculum, etc), or because they were simply never in a position where they could delve into these topics with someone knowledgeable on them (some experiences simply aren't universal, especially if you come from a more privileged family). For the most part, SW is just a silly sci-fi universe that is nothing more than a simple means of escapism or dumb fun. Not everyone is going to study it under a microscope or go through it with a fine comb. That said, another important thing to remember is to listen to those who know their stuff and that have had personal grievances with any of the topics above. You can be excused for lack of knowledge, but you cannot be excused for purposefully ignoring the voices of those who provide you said knowledge for free if you go searching.

This is kinda returning to the second and previous topics, but I really need to put emphasis on this: If you're going to cling to certain design choices with an iron first and incorporate them into your personal ideas/headcanons, please always consider how it SOUNDS when you say characters that are written with basis on real POC people/communities are much better/superior if they have phenotypical trait expressions that are not present (or considered rare/atypical) in their real world basis. This is a CONSISTENT problem I have seen crop up specifically within the Clone Wars and Bad Batch sides of the fandom, especially when talking about Rex (who is a blond) and Clone Force 99 (who do not look like standard clones). Always remember: The problem isn't that Rex can't be naturally blond (genetics can be unpredictable and we really don't have an extensive look into the cloning process), the problem is the way some people think he'd be inferior in some way if he were a bottle blond who chose to distinguish himself (almost as if having darker skin, darker hair and darker eyes is somehow worse than having lighter skin, lighter hair or lighter eyes.. How curious isn't it?). Needless to say, I don't think I need to elaborate further on why CF99's "desirable mutations" giving them considerably lighter skin and less ethnic features, while also making their most POC presenting member look and sometimes act like a moronic brute (something which this Fandom pushes further by infantilizing him relentlessly), is a bit of a red flag...

Star Wars has always been political. It is literally in the name and in the meat of the writing. The entire thing is basically a political and social critique presented in a sci-fi/fantasy wrapper, with colorful plasma swords, cool spaceships, and kickass explosion bow on top. You cannot separate the political conversation from the universe's overall lore, and trying to do so makes you look foolish. Disney may have taken creative liberties with some of its shows, but at the end of the day they can't ever eliminate what the Original Trilogies and even the Prequels tried to tell us about. With that said, complaining about how some of the new shows are "too Woke" or PC is the equivalent of saying you read Romeo and Juliet and that the story is relationship goals. You might need to revisit the original material.

For the love of god if you don't like something, don't go after someone who does, it's not worth it. Sometimes the best thing you can do is either filter something you actively dislike/that makes you feel uncomfortable, or simply unfollow/block whoever is repeatedly bringing it onto your doorstep. And you also have no real obligation to explain your decision to block someone, especially if they hound you for questions. Rule of thumb: Don't like something? That's perfectly fine and valid. Take the steps to make yourself comfortable then, but don't go out of your way to be a royal asshole to someone else just because they themselves enjoy it. This encompasses things from anti-jedi demonization, actual ethnic cleansing in canon, siding with personifications of alt-right extremists, proshipping apologism, etc. The block button was added to this hellsite for a reason. Use it.

Sometimes you can't change someone else's opinions on a matter and that is perfectly fine. Just don't start a feud. People come and go, and their opinions vary (we're all individuals with out own perspectives and unique experiences after all), but getting up in arms every time someone either refuses to yield in a long-winded argument, or continuously tries to shove their unsolicited opinions/advice onto you, or even makes incredibly uncomfortable/forward/gross comments that they definitely shouldn't be saying to a complete stranger on the internet, is kind of pointless and will drain you of energy faster than you can say Death Star. You're not the lesser person for walking away from a lost cause. It's ultimately not your job or responsibility to fix/better someone else. Especially if they don't want to change.

[peterman-spideyparker]

my tears ricochet (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader) 4/5

Author’s Note: Hi! This part is more angst, I’m sorry. And I'm also sorry for the sad Foggy gif, but, it fits. Things will get better, though! Enjoy!

Summary: You finally wake up, but to devastating news.

Warnings: Angst, unresolved feelings, canon-typical violence, vague wound descriptions, recounting of the end of The Defenders, emotional damage, absent parents/friends

Other Characters: Foggy Nelson

Word Count: 1,006

You can’t get over how heavy your eyes feel. You just want to keep them closed and go back to sleep. Why are you so tired? You weren’t even this tired after pulling all-nighters in college or even at the company. This is an entirely different kind of tired. And how are you so warm and cold at the same time? It’s like . . . wait, that’s beeping. You know that beeping. And paired with the steady awareness of the pain in your stomach, everything is coming back to you—the rooftop, ninjas fighting Matt and Elektra, the sword, the devastation on Matt’s face, and the tears rolling down his cheeks. 

Matt . . . you have to talk to him. 

When you open your eyes, you squint at the bright light from the fluorescent bulbs around you. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust, but, you find that you’re alone in a hospital room. There’s a small vase of flowers and a card, but not another soul around. Your parents must still be on the wellness retreat in Mallorca, and your friends . . . unless it’s a high-end gala with free booze, they haven’t stopped by. When you hear the door click open, your heart skips a beat as you recognize a familiar blond that you haven’t seen in a decade enter the room with a coffee in hand.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” he smiles, his voice gentle. “It’s so good to see you, and it’s especially nice to see you awake.”

“Hi Foggy,” you greet, your voice scratchy and raspy from not using it, but not stopping the smile on your face. Foggy puts his coffee down and leans in for a warm hug before shuffling to pour you some water. He holds onto the little plastic cup with you, seemingly able to tell that you're not strong enough to keep a good grip on it after being out so long, letting you gulp at the liquid like a fish that needs its drink. “It’s been a long time.”

“Way too long.”

“You cut your hair.”

He gives you a slight smile as he puts down the cup. “You sound like my mom, albeit far less enthused.”

“It looks nice, but I feel the long hair suited you. But I’m glad you ditched that chin fur you had at Columbia, though.”

“Hey, that, the hair, and the beanie was a look,” he insists, making you chuckle. You quickly place your hand on your stomach, wincing at the wound that scars your body. “Sorry.”

“You’re okay.”

“How are you feeling?” His face is filled with worry, probably afraid that it was the wrong question—or a stupid one—to ask given the circumstances.

“Not great. Everything hurts, I’m still kind of tired, but, can you do me a favor?”

“Sure."

“I need to talk to Matt,” you breathe. “Something happened before I got hurt, and, well, I should really talk to him about it.”

“Oh.”

“Foggy, do you still stay in touch with him?”

“We, uh, we do.”

"Would you mind calling him for me, please?”

“(Y/N/N) . . .” He shifts in his seat and holds your hand. The expression on his face is one you’ve seen before.

Oh no.

“Foggy,” you start, begging with him as if you could change what he’s about to say.

“Maybe I should get a doctor, first, make sure—,” he says, starting to stand up, his hands on the arms of the chair.

“Foggy,” you repeat once more, your voice firm and terrified. It stops Foggy cold in his movement, nerves plastered all over his face. “Sit down.”

He lets out a breath and does as you ask, his eyes glassy as they meet yours.

“I really think I should get a doctor to check everything before we talk any more,” he whispers.

“I really don’t want you to. What I want—no, what I need is your honesty right now. For once in my life, I need someone to not lie to me. Where is Matt?”

“He . . . Matt died,” he says, his face scrunching in pain as he hangs his head. 

You feel your heart shatter as you lie in the hospital bed. “He what?”

“(Y/N)—.”

“He was fine on the roof, h-he was holding onto me—!”

“He didn’t die on the roof.” Foggy sighs, tears streaming down his face. “It’s a long story, and you’ve been unconscious for a while, but . . . A building went down with him in it. No bodies were recovered from the rubble.”

“H-H-How long?”

“It’s been a couple of months.”

“What?”

“(Y/N/N), I’m sorry.”

“No,” you breathe. “That’s not . . . This is all wrong. He can’t have died—I can’t have been out that long. Foggy, that couldn’t have happened.” You start to push your blankets off, trying to move out of the bed, but Foggy moves to keep you in. “It’s not possible, Foggy. Matt couldn’t have died. You're wrong, I'm sorry.”

“He hasn’t shown up since that night. No one has talked to him—.”

“He’s holed up in his apartment—!”

“—no one can find him.”

“You don’t understand, he can’t be dead. He has to have escaped—concussed somewhere, recuperating—Foggy, until there’s a body—.”

“It’s been two months since that night. (Y/N), he’s gone.”

“No! Matt wouldn’t do that! You’re wrong!”

“He’s gone, (Y/N)!” he shouts. “Matt’s dead.”

“No! Not Matt, not like that!” Uncontrollable tears fall from your eyes, screams of pure agony falling from your chest as your hearts breaks into smaller and smaller pieces, leaving your body with each tear that rolls down your cheeks. Foggy wraps his arms around you, holding you tight as you continue to weep. A rush if footsteps come in your room, and Foggy says something you can’t quite make out through your cries. But you know that even though the scars on your stomach will heal and the pain from the injury will eventually fade, the pain of knowing that Matt is gone forever will never leave you. “Not Matt . . .”

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[tomeebear04]

alot of people portray tord as some insane sociopath who doesn’t care about anyone and its particularly heightened in wtfuture content,that being said i personally dont mind these headcanons when i was younger i was totally in favor of tord being a villain but whats your opinion on it? From what ive seen red leader is especially abusive to future tom but i always thought the cast was pretty mean to eachother in the earlier eddisodes but just grew out of it,tord left before the rest of them stopped being so mean to eachother,now its more or less poking fun and annoying eachother here and there

do you think tord just didn’t get the memo and thought it was still okay to act like this? Im all for ‘edgier’ headcanons and story telling but i just personally think to an extent tord isn’t as much as an asshole as people try to make him out to be,at some point the cast have tried to kill eachother and tom literally did what he did in zanta claws (which i forgive him for <33) but i see alot more people give tord more flack than anyone,srry ab the long winded question but i am curious ab your answer ^^

this is a multi-part question so im going to number them to make it more readable lol. also dw about long asks; i like em. lover having conversations about the show with other people

the tord villain question. ah the thing that divides the eddsworld fandom to this day. my opinion on this is a little nuanced. i personally like that direction for his character. i think it's interesting. it recontextualizes a lot of his strange behaviors from earlier episodes. fan interpretation of the actual content of the end episodes have led to a lot of people hating that idea though. i can see why too. i'm not a fan on how people decided to portray tord afterwards. i don't think he was a nice or pleasant person from day one, but i definitely don't think he's a sociopath or psychopath or insane. well not any more insane than everyone else. there's a lot more going on with tord psychologically. he has shown to care about people to an extent. i definitely think he has some kind of personality disorder. i've seen fans discuss schizoid personality disorder and borderline personality disorder in regards to a diagnosis for tord. i don't know enough on the subject to comment either way. imo a good tord wouldn't lose any of the fun aspects of his personality to fit better into any given villain trope. trying to fit square peg in a circle hole, ya know?

tom abuse. this one im a hard no on. i dont know why this got so popular. tord and tom are rivals. making tord an abuser and tom his victim just seems wrong for their dynamic. a lot of that content is fetish driven...and well.. im not touching that topic with a 10 ft shit and piss covered pole. if you're gonna make tord terrible to tom, you have to make tom just as terrible back. they both get under each others skin. i prefer the idea that tord and tom are more friendly in wtfuture since edd is out of the picture. i mean tord has to like him enough to employ him. tom likes him enough to be able to borrow a time machine without much trouble. those are two emotional unstable buddies right there

everyone kinda sucks. this is just straight up true. everyone was out for blood early on in eddsworld. i mean just look at matt. that guy was straight up a menace. yeah the show changed a lot. the tone and the way characters treat each other softened. the tomee bear has a pretty good video on this. i don't disagree with much of what he says. it added a new way to view the end episodes which i greatly appreciate. i could see this being the direction they go for tord in canon

everyone elses crimes. when it comes to talking about the other characters crimes i'd say dont take it seriously if the show doesnt. tom's christmas demolition wasnt taken seriously at all as an act of domestic terrorism. it's a joke about tom's character taken to the extreme for comedy. most things they do are consequence-less. basically, only take it seriously when the show does. tord blowing up the house, killing jon, and betraying everyone was tonally a lot different from tom rapping about hating christmas and nuking bongland. that's the reason why people hate on tord for what he did a bit more. personally i hate tord for being an annoying gooner with confusing politics. but u know to each their own

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Different nonnie from the Tikki-Xuppu person, but what you said about Tikki’s personality fitting Order better than Creation made me think about how Pollen would’ve be a better fit for Creation symbolism-wise over Tikki given how much bees better fit that image over ladybugs with their beeswax, honey and hive-making, not to mention the intimate relationship humans of various cultures have had with bees for literal millennia. Even the restoration of Miraculous Ladybug fits bees better due to the connotations of pollination and how essential bees are for the world’s ecosystem. In a universe where Pollen was the kwami of Creation with Tikki’s canon powers (though with bee-theming of course) to Plagg’s Destruction, how do you think things would’ve gone with Marinette and Adrien while having their canon personalities? How do you think they would have played off of each other with their canon personalities?

(Post that spawned this ask)

Before we begin, I want to note that my answer is probably going to be at least a little biased by @zoe-oneesama Scarlet Lady comic because Pollen has a big role in that and Zoe's read on Pollen pretty closely matches mine. Do with that what you will.

This is the first Kwami swap that I could see working. Plagg's personality is so iconic that it's hard to imagine anyone being an improvement, but Tikki is pretty generic. While she has a clear personality, she has no real interests or hobbies that make her stand out. She's mostly just here to be cute and act as the writer's mouthpiece. While I hate that for her and think she deserves better, it does mean that booting her and replacing her with a different Kwami doesn't feel like you're breaking a core element of the show so long as her replacement plays off the other characters well.

We don't see much of Pollen in canon, so it's hard to get a great read on her, but she her love of calling Chloe "my Queen" and the fact that Pollen is a bee give me vibes of a loyal, devoted Kwami who thinks that her Chosen is the best thing ever no matter what. Compare that to Plagg who delights in tormenting his Chosen and there's major potential for some excellent banter and fun contrasting moments, which is what Tikki's replacement would need to be able to do. Tikki and Plagg's contrasting dynamic is a lot of fun and you wouldn't want to lose it. Pollen and Plagg's dynamic would be different, but in a similar enough vein that I think it could work. Which is actually a point in Pollen's favor. If she was just another Tikki, then there would be no point in making the switch.

While Tikki is often dishing out lectures, her most valuable role is building Marinette up in moments when Marinette is feeling down. Pollen should be able to do that no problem. If anything, Pollen may be a little too zealous in supporting Marinette, but since Marinette isn't often shown to listen to Tikki's advice, that's not really an issue. It could even be a new source of comedy where Marinette comes up with insane plans and Pollen hypes her up while the audience watches in fascinated horror. It could be a lot of fun and also give Alya a better chance to fill the voice-of-reason role that she's occasionally allowed to have. That's one of the many awkward things about Alya knowing now. Her and Tikki often fill the same role on the civilian side since Tikki isn't presented as a wise, ancient mentor who knows things that these kids don't.

I especially love the idea of a Kwami swap where Adrien is praised to death and then refuses to give Pollen back because he needs this right now, okay? His lady can have the cheese loving gremlin for a few days while Pollen floats after him, calling him a Queen and praising his every move. Maybe Pollen even starts sneaking into his backpack and leaving him whatever her favorite treats are as a little sign that he's appreciated, leading Plagg to get all territorial, which further validates Adrien. (I just really like comedy that has a sweet undertone, okay?)

Since we don't have a full understanding of Pollen's personality, I won't speculate further than that as I'm trying to avoid getting too far into the realms of headcanon, but I do really like this idea and think it could be a lot of fun. I even like the idea of Pollen as Creation because bees do make more sense than ladybugs from a theme perspective. Plus Ladybee was such an iconic look, one of the few good unifies, and a version of that without the red would still be fabulous!