#i reread it and somehow it's even worse than i remember

[coulsons-band]

What happened with Pedro…?

someone posted on insta about how they 'traveled across multiple countries' in order to find pedro where he's been filming. pedro didn't engage with this person (as is his right), so they whined about it, basically implied pedro was rude about it, and is now playing the victim. as if pedro wasn't the one who was literally stalked. now people are pretty furious and disgusted.

[like-sands-of-time]

Any house md fans that also read Cassandra Clares clockwork series? Because huddson (House, Cuddy, Wilson) reminded me of that dynamic quite a bit. House loves two people in his life, one he can love and spend a "lifetime" with, as Wilson dies from cancer. And the other, whom he can love and finish his life with after Wilson's gone.

Neither one is loved less and they both led their own lives, of course, but for better and mostly worse, they revolve around each other.

[strawberrybuni]

I MISS YOU MORE THAN ANYTHING

Pairings(separate): Satoru x reader, Suguru x reader, Kento x reader, Toji x reader, Choso x reader Summary: You had a bad accident that gave you amnesia, and you no longer remember him, and he just can't seem to move on Word Count: 4.1k CW: a LOT of angst, hurt no comfort :( A/N: I'd rather jump into a volcano than make choso cry tbh

GOJO SATORU

Satoru was someone who never bothered with dating. After all, he was such a busy man, he didn't really have time to even think about all that, yet he somehow managed to find time for you. The two of you were damn near inseparable, twin flames if you will.

You were a talented sorcerer, a grade 1 and always improving. He always took so much pride in your growth and how you strived to continue to get stronger alongside him. You two used to spend as much time together as possible, but now he's grateful if you even respond to one of his texts.

About a year ago, you two were on a mission, and a curse user caught you off guard, getting you bad with an attack. You had suffered some pretty intense injuries, it was a miracle you were even still alive. However, your injuries came with a permanent scar, amnesia.

Your memories were completely shot, either in bits and pieces, or just completely gone from your head altogether. Unfortunately for him, he was completely wiped from your brain. Even worse? Your attitude towards him took a complete 180. The fire of once being his twin flame now completely put out with zero chance of it being relit. He wasn't sure if you not remembering various events of your life altered your personality and the way you thought, but you practically hated him now.

Any time he tries to speak to you, he's met with glares, eye rolls, and half assed responses. It didn't stop him from talking to you, though. He would rather you be rude to him than never talk to him again.

Satoru is a man who never spoke on how things affected him or how they made him feel. No one knew how he reread your old text messages over and over again, or how he cries sometimes over the loss of you. No one knew how he lost countless hours of sleep just looking over your vids and pics that you two had taken when you were still together.

No one knew how he was dying on the inside.

“You gonna stay up here moping all day, or try talking to them?” He was suddenly snapped out of his thoughts as Shoko came to stand beside him.

He had been in his usual spot watching you from above as you trained with the students. He had been lost in thought, fantasizing about how the training would’ve been going if things were as they used to be. 

“Nah, I already bothered them today. Maybe I will later though.” He responded with his usual grin, but she saw right through his facade.

They stood there in silence, just watching, the faint sound of laughter filling the air. To Satoru, it almost felt like the universe was laughing at him. First he loses his one and only best friend, and now he's being forced to lose his one true love. Love really is the worst curse of them all, huh?

“You can talk to me, you know,” Shoko finally spoke after a few moments, not wanting to see her friend suffering alone. “It's fine, there's nothing to talk about anyways.”

“But there is Satoru. You might think you have everyone fooled and thinking that you’re unbothered by what happened, but not me. You don't.. have to go through all this alone.”

He mulled over her words for a few moments before shrugging slightly, deciding to be somewhat honest. “I guess I just.. don't find any point in talking about it. They don't love me anymore, and that's that. All I can do is accept it and go forward. If I push too much, they'll end up hating me more than they already do.”

He didn't want to accept it, though. God what he’d give to have you by his side once again. There aren't any lengths he wouldn't go to just to have you remember him. To call him Toru again. To love him again.

“Well that's surprisingly mature of you.” she teased with a sympathetic smile, causing him to pout. “Heyyy! I can be mature!”

She laughed at his whine, then smiled softly as she rubbed his back. “Just know we're all worried about you, okay? If you ever need anything, I’m a text away.”

He nodded with a smile, not bothering to say anything as he watched her leave. His smile slowly faded once she was out of sight, his attention being on you once again. He brought a finger up to pull his blindfold down around his neck as he watched you, letting out a shaky sigh.

“I really do miss you, sweetheart.”

GETO SUGURU

You were out and about with your friends, having a good day out in the nice weather. You had since recovered from the accident you were in, the same accident that gave you a nasty case of amnesia. You had lost a decent portion of your memories. Fortunately, you remembered most of your friends and they’ve all bee a great help in helping you readjust.

“So uh.. how’s it been between you and Suguru?” One of them asks out of the blue. Suguru, your boyfriend before your accident 6ish months ago who was no longer playing that role in your life. “I mean, there’s nothing really going on, we talk sometimes if that’s what you’re asking”

“Well I was just wondering because he’s kind of sort of..” Your friend trailed off, motioning discreetly in a direction to which your eyes followed. Your eyes made contact with his as you found him to be leaning against a wall not far from where you and your friends are, a frown instantly gracing your lips. “Give me a moment."

You got up, incredibly upset as you made your way over him. You had felt a lot of sympathy towards him given the circumstances. You couldn’t even imagine what it would be like for your lover to suddenly no longer remember you. So, you agreed to try and make a relationship work, but after a few months, you found you just aren't into him anymore. No matter what you did, you just couldn't find that love for him again. So, you broke it off and offered to just be friends, not for him to borderline stalk you.

“What the fuck Suguru? Why are you here?” You ask, since this isn’t exactly the first time he’s appeared ‘randomly’ where you happen to be. “I just happened to be in the area.”

“Bullshit. That’s your excuse every time I catch you lurking. I know I said we could be friends, but this is the opposite of how friends should act.”

Suguru frowned at your words. He hated when you referred to him as just some friend. He didn’t want to be your friend, he wanted his title as your boyfriend back. Yes he agreed to being friends, but that was only so he could continue to try and recapture your heart.

“Well apologies Y/N, I actually was in the area I just.. was curious about what you were up to and followed for a bit.”

“Do you not realize how weird that is? What if I’m on a date, then what?” His frown deepened at your response. “You’re already going on dates?”

“Oh my god I can’t keep having the same conversation with you.”

Time and time again, he would insert himself into your personal affairs as if he was still your boyfriend. He’d get pushy for answers, needing to know what you’re doing. He just misses when you’d give him those silly little updates on what’s going on throughout your day. All of your selfies, your audio messages. God he misses it all. He didn’t mean to act like a creep, but he couldn’t help himself.

“What I do in MY dating life is MY business. We are not a thing anymore Suguru, get that through your head.”

“How do you expect me to do that, huh? How do you expect me to be okay with watching you go out with some other dude, to let him know you like I knew you. For him to attempt to love you the way I loved you. You’re being unfair, no?"

“Honestly I'm being really fair. I have done nothing but try to make things work because you seemed like genuinely a nice guy. Unfortunately, it didn’t play out how we hoped it would. I set my boundaries in us just being friends and you’re the one continuing to push my boundaries again and again. So no Suguru, you’re the one being unfair.”

You were right, and he knew that, but he just can’t go on without you, and doing this almost made him feel apart.

“Look Suguru, because I’m so generous, I’ll give you one last fucking chance. Push my boundaries again and I’m blocking you. Got it?” You asked, to which he nodded. “Got it.”

He watched you return to your friends, hands in his pockets as he left. He had no intentions of stopping, he just was going to be smarter and sneakier about things. You’ll love him again one day, he has to keep believing that for the sake of his sanity. He just has to.

NANAMI KENTO

Your feet dragged against the carpeted floor as you made your way down the hallway to Kento’s apartment. It felt like it went on forever as the feeling of dread bubbled up in your chest at what you were about to do.

Bringing your hand up, you gently knock a few times, anxiously awaiting for him to open the door.

“Ah, Y/N, I didn’t expect to see you. It’s a pleasant surprise, I was actually in the midst of cooking if you’d like to come in.” Kento’s face was kind, eyes almost pleading for you to accept his offer. He missed you in ways you could never even begin to imagine, which is why it was making it so hard for you to go through with this.

“Thank you, but that's okay. I just um.. I came to return this to you.” You held out your hand, your engagement ring resting in your palm.

Kento felt his mouth run dry.

“What? Why.. why are you..” He tried to find the words to speak, his mind unable to comprehend what you're doing, thoughts going a mile a minute.

“I'm sorry Nanami, I really really am. I’ve been trying to find those feelings again, to feel what I felt before the accident, to remember you. I just.. it’s been months now and I just can't go on with this engagement, because at this rate I don’t know if I’ll ever feel that love for you again. I’m.. I'm sorry.”

You truly felt remorseful, he seemed like such a wonderful man, you can understand why you fell for him in the first place. But for some reason, you just weren't in love with him anymore. The love you once felt for him was long gone.

Ever since your accident, the two of you tried everything to get you to remember. Hell, he’d be fine with you falling in love with him all over again. He doesn't care, just as long as you two are together. 

You’re the love of his life, you’re the oxygen he breathes. Irreplaceable. No one could ever compare to you in his eyes, he just can't live without you. Your wedding was supposed to be in a few months, and what was supposed to be the happiest day of his life was slowly slipping through his fingers, and there was nothing he could do about it.

“No, no no, wait please Y/N. Can't we just try a little longer? I don't mean to be pushy but I feel like we were really getting somewhere and–” Please don't do this. “But we weren't, I was just forcing it because I didn't want to hurt you–”

“I just don't understand why we can't keep trying, we had so many plans together Y/N. Marriage, kids, a house in Malaysia.”

“And that sounds lovely but Nanami–”

“Stop calling me that.” The air around you two fell awkwardly silent. “Call me Ken.. please.. like you always have.” His voice was broken, defeated. He's dealt with so much loss in his life, he couldn't bear to lose you too.

His days have become so devoid of the color you once brought to his life. Before you, he was simply going through the motions of life because that's what he had to do. Now that he’s had you, he doesn't know what to do with himself anymore. He doesn’t want to go back to how it was before you.

“I’m sorry I just..” He sighed, a hand coming up to rub his face. He didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, he really didn't, but god he was so desperate to try and get you to change your mind. “You’re everything to me. Without you I just.. I'm a shell of a man. Things aren't the same without you by my side. Please can't we just keep trying for a little longer? We could have a breakthrough.”

You listened to his ramble, but you weren't budging. You didn't think it was healthy for him to keep holding onto something that just was no longer written in the stars.

“I can't anymore Kento, I don’t.. I don't want to do this anymore, I'm sorry. I think continuing to try is a lost cause, and only it's filling you with false hope.” He remained silent at your words, nodding in reluctant acceptance, knowing pushing the envelope wouldn't end in his favor.

“Alright.. may I request one last thing from you, before you go?” He asks, fighting back his tears and emotions. “Please, stay for dinner. Cooking for you was something that always bought me joy and.. I'd like to at least sit and eat with you one last time.”

You thought for a few moments before nodding, it was the least you could do. You'd give him this one last thing before you leave for good. 

Originally, Kento wasn't going to go back to sorcerer work, since he didn't want to risk his life and leave you alone, but after you had left and he thought it over again, he decided he would accept Gojo’s request for his assistance.

He had decided on his plan. Once this final mission in Shibuya is all said and done, he'd leave for Malaysia, and maybe, just maybe finally have a better life for himself there.

What could possibly go wrong?

FUSHIGURO TOJI

Love was something Toji never thought he'd ever try again. He had no interest in commitment in the slightest. If it wasn't just a quick fuck or a dynamic that benefitted him in some way, he truly just couldn’t give a damn.

That was, until you appeared in his life. 

What started out as just a friends with benefits type relationship, it slowly morphed into the both of you desiring more from each other.

You both understood each other. You were both from tragic backgrounds and dark pasts, and you two accepted good with the bad from one another. You two were so happy and in love.

Until the accident.

You were a curse user like him, and went on missions the same way he did. However, one really bad impact to the head had you in the hospital for a good few months. You were in a coma, and everyday he prayed that you would wake up. Although, now he kind of wishes that you did.

When you had awoken, you had lost various memories, including him. You didn't remember meeting him, all the moments you two shared, when he finally started telling you he loved you, none of it. And it killed him, not that he’d ever say it aloud.

When he told you how he was your boyfriend, while yes you found him to be very attractive, you just didn't feel the same about him anymore. You were always a closed off guarded individual due to your trauma. Yet for some reason back then, you allowed him into your heart. This time, however, you had zero interest in that.

Toji felt so many things. He was angry, confused, and heartbroken. How could you not remember all the times you two shared? Why did you not even want to try? Why didn't you care?

All the self improvement you helped him with all went down the drain. He just didn't care about anything or anyone anymore. Losing his first wife was hard, it destroyed him. Now he's losing you, except you're not even actually gone. You're right there, before his eyes, and has to watch you continue to live your life without him. 

“Shiu! That stupid mission was a– oh, um, hi Toji.” You awkwardly greeted him as you entered the office, not expecting to see him during your visit to Shiu. The tension in the room grew thick as Shiu cleared his throat. “I'm uh, gonna go smoke this. I'll be right back.” That bastard.

An awkward silence hung in the air before Toji decided to break it. “So, you seein’ anyone?

“I don't really think that's–”

“It's just a harmless question, doll.” His tone is borderline condescending, you let it slide though. “I was, not anymore though.”

Toji bit back a laugh at that. He liked to believe that deep down in your subconscious, you needed him just the way you always have, and that you’d never find another person who’d make you feel as he did.

“Yeah? And why's that?” He pressed, wanting any indication that his theory had any basis in reality. “Why does even that matter? It’s none of your business.”

You shot him down. Any time you two bumped into each other, he always pulled this. He'd get far too nosy about your dating life and you were tired of it. You understand that you two were in love before and that it's hard for him, but he needed to let it go. You weren’t interested and that was that.

“Ya know, if you ever want–”

“No.”

Toji frowned, irritation bubbling his chest from your immediate rejection. “I wasn't looking for a relationship doll, just a good fuck. You really think I wanna be bothered with you again? I barely wanted to even when we were together.” He spoke harshly, none of his words even being true.

He hated himself for the way he was treating you, but he just couldn't stop himself. Hurt people hurt people, after all.

“Just tell Shiu to call me. I'm leaving.” Before he could say anything, you were already out the door, refusing to take his attitude any longer.

Whatever, he was fine before without you anyway. He'll continue to tell himself that doesn't need you until he finally tricks his mind into believing it's true.

CHOSO

Loud knocks at your door awoke you from your sleep, having fallen asleep by mistake on the couch. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you reached for your phone to check the time. 

Nearly 2AM.

“Y/N?? A-Are you in there? Please I-I just wanna talk.” A once all too familiar voice sounded from the other side of the door, and you knew it was him. 

Choso, the man who apparently was your boyfriend before your accident.

A sigh left your lips, you already knew what this was about. You had blocked him on everything because you believed this would be beneficial to him. You felt this would help him move on, because that's simply what he was going to have to do. Yet he just wouldn't.

You reluctantly made your way to the door, taking a deep breath before opening it. He looked like a mess. His eyes were bloodshot, red and puffy from what you could only assume was from hours of crying. His stripe on his nose was dripping, as if his emotions were pouring from it. He truly looked pitiful.

“Choso..” You felt awful, you really did. You didn't mean to cause this man so much pain and turmoil, but you weren't going to fake being in love with him. That wouldn't make the situation any better.

“W-Why? Y-You– you blocked me? Why?” He stuttered out, once dried tears slowly beginning to wet his face once again as he started to cry, his breaths coming out shaky and broken.

You let him inside, worried about him having an anxiety attack and nosy neighbors being in your business.

“Choso I'm really going to need you to breathe–” The second the door is shut, he’s pulling you in for a tight hug, his body shaking as small cries leave him. “Choso–”

“I-I’m sorry, I-I’m sorry. I just need t-to touch you” You suppose you could give him this. “Okay but you're squeezing me too tight, you're going to hurt me if you don't loosen up.”

You two stood like that for a few moments. You offered comfort to the best of your ability, rubbing his back soothingly. You knew you needed to calm him down as much as possible for the news you were going to break to him. 

“I think.. we should sit and talk.” Your soft voice broke the silence. You gently removed yourself from his tight hold, guiding him to sit on the couch.

“I.. blocked you because I felt it’s for the best” You turned your head away from him, the sad puppy dog look in his eyes making you feel far too guilty. “I know before my accident we were together and in love but.. I need you to understand that I no longer feel that way. I don't remember you anymore–”

“B-But that doesn't mean you c-can’t remember one day, right? R-Right??” That was something you didn't have an answer for.

“I don’t–”

“B-But you remember everyone else, w-why not me? Why don't you r-remember me?” He begged for an answer, shaky hands coming to hold yours, squeezing them tight. “T-There has to be s-something we can do right? Maybe Shoko could d-do something, anything. We just need to–”

“Choso, please just stop.” You felt a pang in your heart as his shoulders slumped, but you had to throw the cold water in his face. “There is nothing that can be done. I'm sorry, I am. I wish for your sake that I could wake up with all my memories of you back but I just can't. I'm just.. not interested in you in that way anymore.” You slowly pulled your hands from his, resting yours in your lap as you continued. This really sucked. 

“I thought maybe we could be friends, and over time either my memories would return or I'd develop feelings for you again but.. I just don't feel that way towards you. And you're so.. clingy. The way you are is unhealthy Choso. You have to move on.”

His eyes went wide at your words, his world shattering before him as he rapidly shook his head. “No. No no no I-I don't want to do that. I can't do that p-please.”

“You're going to have to. I know I was your first love, but I promise you'll find someone else who will–”

“I-I don't want anyone else I-I want you. I don’t want to e-ever even think about m-my life without you p-please, I’ll do a-anything Y/N please.”

He was becoming hysterical again and you're far too exhausted to be able to properly calm him down. Besides, he'd just do what he's been doing for the last two months. He'll cry and cry until you feel guilty enough to change your mind. Not this time. 

“I'm sorry Choso, but I need you to leave. It’s over” You stood up from the couch, wanting to be done with this conversation. Giving him the cold shoulder was something you didn't necessarily want to do, but he was leaving you with no choice at this point.

As you approached your door to let him out,  you heard a thud from behind you followed by a hand grasping your ankle to prevent you from going any further. The sight before you as turned your head to look only worsened how you felt. 

He was on his knees, his head down, grasping your ankle in a final desperate plea. “P-Please… d-don’t do this to me..” 

It was your turn for your shoulders to slump, but your mind was already made as you whispered “Please, don't make me call Yuji..”

You felt his grip loosen at your words, before completely releasing your ankle. He slowly rose to his feet, his eyes trained on the floor, knowing if he looks at you, he’ll completely crumble and he wouldn’t be able to leave. He doesn’t say another word as he leaves, knowing there’s nothing he could say that would change your mind.

“Goodbye.. Choso.” You said for the last time before closing the door.

[spikedfearn]

I Said Just a Little Bit, Then I Got a Taste of It

Chapter II

bjorn x fem!reader

summary: After being transferred to another sector of Jackson's Star you reluctantly befriend a ragtag group of people with the exception of one cocky asshole who knows just how to get under your skin.

On the surface, you hate each other, but after experiencing a particularly harrowing event together, the two of you grow closer than anyone else could ever imagine.

warnings: secret friends with benefits, enemies to lovers, angst, alcohol/drug use, sexual themes, non-linear narrative, side rainkay, trauma bonding, near death experience, brief mention of child abuse, more tags to be added

a/n: a slight correction from the first chapter: I realized after I posted that I wrote Kay being under the influence when she runs after you when she is, in fact, pregnant in this au. I don't know how I whiffed that up when it's a relevant plot point to the story (ￗ﹏ￗ) either way though, I went back and edited the chapter but just in case anyone following this story didn't reread it after I made the changes, I wanted to put a disclaimer here!

tags: @asvtrials

wc: 3.3k

Masterlist Next Chapter

You remember the night the two of you first met with a stunning amount of clarity.

It took place a few weeks after your compulsory transfer, a result of the mines in sector two having been exhausted of all its valuable resources, the higher-ups deciding to split the colonists inhabiting it among the other five.

Truthfully, you still don't know how to feel about it. Sure, it sucks being uprooted from the only home you've ever known, forced to live in an alien environment, even if it is just another extension of the same colony.

But, on the other hand, it's sorta nice—starting over. Being relocated to somewhere no one knows you, your story. Able to shed your baggage and leave it behind, only bringing with the clothes on your back and the dog tags of your late mother, the only things that truly matter to you.

You're nearing the end of another one of your shifts, sweat gathered in the folds and creases of your body, watching sparks fly off the hard mineral you're drilling into when the girl next to you yanks down her face shield, narrowly turning away from the rock wall to bend over and vomit in the walkway instead.

It’s not unusual for people to get sick while working, the conditions down here are hazardous and the safety equipment provided does little to protect you from the harsh fumes and kicked-up debris. Still, you sympathize, knowing firsthand how miserable it is to try and push through til clock out time.

However the supervisors do not, one of the men patrolling the area to ensure endless labor shouting, “worker #1693! Why have you stopped working?”

The girl lifts her head in response to being reprimanded, the headlamp strapped to her hard hat illuminating the man looming over her, the head of the drill she was still holding stabbed into the soft earth beneath their feet, using it like an impromptu crutch.

“I'm sorry sir,” she coughs, voice rough from the stomach acid and bile she just spewed everywhere, “it's morning sickness—I'm pregnant.”

A wave of compassion comes crashing down over you, everyone else in the immediate vicinity paying no mind as they continue to excavate, wanting to avoid a scolding of their own. Not that you can blame any of them, insubordination at best results in hours lost and at worst, an automatic jail sentence, the only place somehow worse than the mines.

You want to turn a blind eye like the others but—you can't, feeling guilt gnaw at your conscience. Even in the limited light you can tell she's sick, skin pale and glistening with a fresh coat of sweat, chest spasming as she doubles back over and starts to dry heave.

“Well get back to it, we have a quota to fill!” He orders, growing increasingly agitated.

Almost instantly you find the words, “how long do you have left?” leaving your mouth before you can process what you're saying, watching as she looks back to find you.

“What was that?” She asks, using the back of her wrist to wipe the string of spit hanging from her lip, looking so small and so vulnerable, like she's on the verge of passing out. It's enough to make you commit to what you say next.

Pushing the goggles up and over your helmet and the face shield down and away your mouth to unmuffle your voice you repeat, “how long do you have left? Like—how many hours?”

“Four?” She answers, confused, the same supervisor that had warned her moments ago barking, “worker #1251, why aren't you working?!” The threatening buzz of a shock stick now being aimed towards you.

Four hours. You're in the last hour of your own shift, bone-tired and barely hanging on, adding another four after the fact might actually kill you.

With that in mind you find yourself volunteering, looking between her and the guard ready to taze the fuck out of both of you, “I can pick up her hours. Sir.” You tack on, albeit sarcastically.

Her eyes round out in surprise before the skin between her eyebrows wrinkle in confusion, understandably so. It's incredibly rare for a stranger to show humanity in a hellscape like this, where it's every man for himself.

“Why?” She asks, straightening her back out, hand coming up to cup her still flat stomach.

You shrug despite knowing exactly why, not that you'd share that with a complete stranger, replying, “don't worry about it,” before offering, “because I want to,” instead, hoping to avoid any follow up questions.

A pretty smile breaks out across her face, so big her eyes nearly disappear, turning the headlamp attached to her helmet off to get a proper look at you, “thank you so much. Really. I totally owe you one.”

“Sure,” you say, not intending to cash in on that favor at all. You don't want to owe anyone anything or them to owe you.

It's a dangerous thing—caring about someone or something on Jackson's Star. One of the only valuable lessons life in the colony has taught you. Better to lessen the weight of the emotional impact when they inevitably leave. Easier.

Your eyes follow her as she walks the path leading towards the exit, a cute little skip in her step. You can't help but smile, the muscles in your cheeks twitching at the foreign stretch of your mouth. You don't remember the last time you felt one of those on your lips.

The extra time doesn't end up killing you—which sucks, it could've been your ticket out of here.

Morbid humor aside, you can barely move as you head to the clock out station, summoning the last bit of strength you have to heave the drill up on top of the counter, ignoring the loud clang it makes when it hits the metal countertop. If they wanna dock you for the damage fine, you can't find it in you to give a fuck at the moment.

The lady behind the transparent partition checks your equipment back in, the clacking of the keys sounding loud without the constant drilling, being the last miner to leave.

“Worker #1251. Drill returned, no visible damage to report. Twenty hours logged.”

“Wait,” you interrupt, her fingers pausing above the keyboard, eyes still glued to the computer screen, “the four hours. Could you give them to the girl I covered for?”

She looks at you then, like you're high on the fumes circulating through the tunnels. Maybe you are, because who just volunteers to do hard labor? And for free? That and you still have to come back and clock in four hours from now.

“Are you sure?”

Though you don't hesitate to nod before verbalizing, “yeah,” your thoughts straying to the baby she's growing inside of her, “she’s gonna need the hours more than I do.”

It'll be the last nice thing you'll ever do, because you're never doing that shit again, offering to cover for someone else, for someone you don't even know.

Except—you do.

Because the morning sickness doesn't go away for the next two weeks, no matter how little she eats to try and combat it. And, regardless of the front you put on, you have a heart. A heart and a motive, one you plan to keep close to the chest whenever you step up and tell whatever supervisor nearby that you'll take on her workload only to transfer the hours to her at the end of the night.

Her name is Kay. You learn that after the third shift you cover for her when she comes up to you during everyone's designated lunch break, taking a seat on the bench next to you, far away from the others eating together.

You're reluctant to give her yours, preferring to just be a faceless number among the crowd, because knowing each other's names means familiarity, and familiarity means attachment. And you never intended for that to happen, wanting to just keep to yourself after the transfer but Kay looks a little crushed when you don't give it to her the first time she asks so, eventually, you do.

It's fine. It's just your name. This doesn't have to mean anything.

Except—it does.

Opens the door for Kay to start joining you for lunch, to stand next to you while you're working, to start asking you about yourself, wanting to befriend the angel that's come to her rescue the last few weeks. Her words, not yours.

You don't disclose much, keeping your past private the only thing keeping you safe from heartache. From that type of overwhelmingly raw pain only loss can bring and, while you've done your absolute best to pick up the pieces, you'll never be the same.

Shattered glass can be put back together but the cracks will always, always remain.

Kay seems to pick up on it because she doesn't broach the subject again, choosing to redirect her energy by trying to convince you to come hang out with her and her friends instead.

You reject her offer every time she asks, giving out your name is one thing, socializing outside of the mines is something else entirely, but Kay is persistent, annoyingly so. Begs you to come out for just one drink whenever you guys have downtime at work, giving you the puppy dog eyes while she does it, whining and stamping her foot when you inevitably turn her down.

You're sitting together during lunch one day, on the little metal bench you claimed the first night you started working in sector six, eating the same boring sandwich you make before the start of every shift.

However, for the first time in a long time, you feel good today, well-rested, chalking it up to not covering Kay’s shifts over the last three days.

She's roughly two months along and no longer vomiting on the job site, able to work her full shifts for the last seventy two hours, the worst of the morning sickness seemingly over. You're glad she's finally feeling better, and, if you're honest, a little relieved.

Not that Kay ever expected you to cover for her, you know her well enough now to realize that, can noticeably see the gratitude she radiates every time you volunteered, but you would've kept doing it, even if she stayed sick for the remainder of her pregnancy.

“Sooo,” Kay starts, drawing out the o, playing with the bendy straw sticking out of her apple juice box, “the gang and I are gonna hit up a bar tonight.”

“Cool,” you mutter, already seeing where this is going. It's the same tactic she's used the last dozen or so times she's invited you out. “Have fun.”

Kay pouts, her eyes big and pleading, “you should come with, it'll be fun. I'll even buy you a drink so I can properly thank you for easing my stress for a little while.”

“You don't have to thank me Kay,” you reply between bites of bologna, “I didn't do it for free beer.” A chuckle following after.

“C’moooon,” Kay bemoans, wiggling her shoulders for emphasis, “stop being such a buzzkill.”

“Can’t. That's who I am, Captain Buzzkill.” Your words slightly muffled by a napkin you use to wipe your mouth clean once you finish eating, crumpling it up along with the cellophane and brown paper bag you brought your sandwich in.

“Why are you the most stubborn person alive?” She whines, chucking her now empty juice box into a nearby waste bin.

“That’s probably not true.”

“Well you're up there! Now please just come out with us tonight. For me. And if you really don't have a good time I'll never ask again.”

“Never?” You ask, feeling your resolve slowly eroding away.

Her eyes glisten with newfound hope, nodding her head enthusiastically, “never ever.”

“Fine,” you relent, “but just one.”

If this is what it takes for her to stop bugging you about it you'll do it, just this once. Besides, you can slam a beer pretty quick if you're dead set on it.

You smile and roll your eyes at the squeal she makes, her arms wrapping around you to reel you in towards her chest, hands settling on your bicep, one on top of the other, her fingers creating wrinkles in the fabric of your shirt sleeve from how tight she's hugging you.

You awkwardly pat her forearm, not used to receiving affection, “but just one,” you reiterate. If you're gonna do this you're gonna do it on your terms and your terms only.

“Just one,” she echoes, rocking the two of you back and forth, the whistle of the horn above you signaling the end of your lunch break.

One turns into three.

You had every intention to leave after the first but, as much as you hate to admit it, you are having a good time.

Kay’s friends are cool, nice, having welcomed you in with ease, like they’ve known you for a while. In a way they do, Kay having told them about you, what you did for her. You don't think it's a big deal but they seem to think so, what with the warmth they show you from the outset.

“So you're the angel that's been helping my little sis out!” Tyler, Kay’s older brother, greets you cheerfully, pupils dilated from the alcohol, having already started without you, not that you actually care. “A proper little mutha’ Theresa in our midst!”

You snort at that, waving him off, “not really. She's pregnant. I'm not so, I thought I'd just help her out.”

“Well it's really sweet,” Rain chimes in, more reserved than the others, preferring to let everyone else talk. You can already tell the two of you will get along. “Which is pretty rare to find around here.”

Besides Tyler and Rain, there's Rain’s brother Andy and their friend Navarro. Andy, like Rain, is also on the quiet side, the programming he has installed a little outdated. Though Navarro, the resident techxpert, is working on an upgrade, building a chip out of scrap metal and wiring, she scavenges from the local scrapyard.

You're all crowded around one of the dozen or so tables taking up half the floor, the bar brimming with other colonists, knocking back beers or playing darts, the room filled with the sounds of laughter and chatter blending together. It's not a place you would choose to go on your own but it does add another layer of entertainment when you're with the right people.

“I guess,” you reply, cautiously agreeing with Rain, even though you know she's more than correct. It's just hard for you to accept compliments, you're just not used to hearing them and don't think very highly of yourself to begin with.

You finish off the rest of your drink, pulling your leather wallet out of the back pocket of your jeans to order another, but Tyler is quick to stop you.

“Nah—nah,” Tyler says, his hand lifting off the tabletop to wave you off, “don't even,” he pauses to turn away and burp before turning back around to face you again, “don't even trip. I got your tab covered.”

“You sure?” You ask, hesitating to put your money away. It's not like you all are compensated fairly for your slave labor. That and if you let him pay for your drinks, wouldn't you owe him then? No, you reason in your slightly tipsy state, he's paying you back for taking care of Kay, meaning you'll be even and no one will owe anyone anything.

So—you let him buy you more drinks, slowly but surely relaxing, thanks to the alcohol and the easygoing nature of those around you. It's clear how much he cares for Kay by how he's treating you.

It's endearing, you can't deny that. Apparently Rain and Tyler dated for a short period of time, just under a month before Rain realized she was really into Kay. But, instead of getting angry or jealous, Tyler just accepted it, even gave his blessing since Rain was better than the jerk that knocked his sister up anyway.

It's been a good night—a great one, better than you could've ever imagined, but something always has to come along and ruin it. Life just has a funny way of doing that.

“Bjorn, mate!” Tyler yells over the noise, looking towards the front door with his arm waving in the air, flagging someone over, “over here!”

That someone maneuvers around the crowd, appearing at Tyler's side in just under a minute, a grin splitting his face in two as he takes the empty seat next to him, swiping Tyler’s drink to wash down his excitement.

“Good night?” Tyler jokes, taking in Bjorn’s appearance, currently vibrating on the bar stool he's sitting on, his attention focused solely on his cousin.

“I'm fuckin’ buzzin’ mate! I finally beat that stupid fuckin’ level,” he begins, launching into a tirade about some game he's been playing for awhile, hands coming up to wildy gesticulate as he speaks.

Your eyes are automatically drawn to him, analyzing his side profile while he's distracted. He's attractive, probably one of the most attractive men you've ever laid eyes on. From his under plucked brows to the oceanic hue of his irises, the single silver hoop threaded through his ear and the silly little frowny face tattoo on his neck down to the plushness of his pretty pink lips, framed by just the right amount of facial hair. He's perfect. Perfect until he opens his big fucking mouth.

He finally registers who's sitting around the table, eyes angrily narrowing when he zeroes in on Andy, gaze flickering over to Rain, “why tha’ fuck did you bring this rust bucket ‘ere?”

“Bjorn,” both Rain and Tyler preemptively warn, like they know what's about to follow and they probably do, considering he's Tyler’s cousin. Rain takes the lead on this one, adding, “don’t start.”

“And why tha’ fuck not? Ya’ fuckin’ knew how I'd feel if he was ‘ere! Ida’ just stayed tha’ fuck home,” he hisses, accent made thicker by his anger.

Tyler pinches the bridge of his nose, looking exasperated by his cousin already, “we just wanted to come for a pint mate. All of us. No use losin’ your head over it.”

“Right. Right. No use. Just like this hunka junk synth.”

You’ve never had a filter, never needed one when you've grown up never having to consider someone else's feelings so you can't help but snark, “do you practice being an asshole in the mirror or does it just come naturally to you?”

You feel everyone’s eyes on you, probably taken aback by your intervention, not expecting you, a total stranger, to speak up on behalf of Andy. But—you've never been good at biting your tongue, never needed to when you only have yourself to worry about, overconfident in voicing your displeasure when you're the only one who'll be punished for it, unlike those with familial connections who talk back to the higher-ups.

“And who tha’ bloody fuck are you?” He spits, face souring like he's bit into a lemon, looking you up and down, from the flat tabletop that sits under your breasts up to your hairline.

“Not a piece of shit like you,” you retort, squeezing the unopened beer Tyler bought for you, hard enough to crease the label wrapped around the circumference of the glass.

“So!” Tyler interrupts, trying to change the subject, directing his attention to you, “why’d it take ya so long to come out and join us?”

Kay squeezes your knee under the table and Rain looks grateful, reassuring a somewhat confused Andy that he's more than welcome to be here, that he isn't bothering anyone that isn't a totally immature man baby.

“Not really my scene,” you answer, ignoring the crisp hiss of the carbon dioxide being released when you pop the lid on the glass bottle Tyler bought you.

“Oh! Not good enough for ya’ princess?” Bjorn mocks, still simmering with anger from his side of the table.

“No, just not good enough for you, asshat,” you flip him off, still pissed on behalf of Rain and Kay and any girl that has to interact with him, feeling Kay’s fingers curl around your shoulders like she's trying to stop you.

You decide to let it go, for now, despite how angry you are, for Kay, sticking it out until she warns you it's time to leave. Because other than that—fuck that guy

[swagglessmoth]

Badly made comic of And So The Moon Wept bc it just finished and I’m devastated

‼️CHAPTER 15 SPOILERS‼️

I wanted to make one more page between the second and third bc pacing, but I didn’t wanna rethink all three of those pages’ compositions. It’s pretty ass bc it’s all sketches, but the last ones came out pretty decent I think👍

(Don’t look at the house too closely, I really didn’t wanna look at a reference so I just freestyled it)

Scrapped versions bc idk

Now that that’s out the way, I’ll start with the ranting, you can leave now this is for me

THE ENDING⁉️ DAMN⁉️⁉️⁉️

I would start rereading immediately to see all the details and analyze the psychology of the ‘tsukuyomi world’ characters BUT I unfortunately have my global exams next week 🥲

Warning for -1000 media literacy‼️ while writing all this I remembered that my memory is bad an my analytical skills are even worse! So be warned :p

BUT ANYWAY!! This was a top tear fanfic, seriously at no point did I consider the infinite tsukuyomi as a possibility. And I think this has to do with the fact that the psychology and individual lives of the characters in this dream were so well developed. There’s so many POVs! And they’re so complex and detailed!! Really makes you wonder if this was really the tsukuyomi or if Kakashi’s consciousness was sent to a different world all together. Which is what makes it so terribly tragic. Kakashi lived so many years in this perfect world just to regain all his memories and find out that it really was all fake, a world made up entirely of his own fantasies.

Oh and what a fantasy it was, getting hit by that boulder and fucking dying! The only reason he got to live was bc of ‘Hound’ (which could be interpreted as his consciousness telling him to wake tf up). Everything felt so wrong to Kakashi not because he noticed this things weren’t right, but bc he was never meant to live in this world. This was the prefect reality for everyone around him, his dream, a world without him (FUCK BRO💔💔💔💔). Which is the reason why I think the characters are so three dimensional in this dream, maybe, idk bro I just made this up.

But even then, things don’t exactly add up (if you think about it they do BUT SHHHHHH LET ME DREAM). Why did some characters suffer so much if this was meant to be a better world for everyone else? Why did Rin’s parent’s die? Why did Sakumo try suicide so many times?

We know Rin’s and Obito’s relationship started declining when Rin didn’t believe Obito when he swore up and down that Kakashi was somehow alive (which IS Hound’s fault in a way, he saved Kakashi and that’s why Obito saw Kakashi sinking into the ground, making him believe that Kakashi didn’t die), but it goes farther than that. Rin’s real problem with Obito was that he was so stuck on his dead teammate that he neglected the rest of his living team, Kakashi was literally everything he thought about to the point it started negatively affecting others (which, yeah him being obsessed is pretty normal considering that Kakashi was part of the reason he activated his sharingan and THE reason he activated the Mangekyo). So what did he do? Go hang out with the one other person who would ALSO only think of Kakashi all day, Sakumo. Obito eventually accepted that Kakashi was dead, but he and Rin never reconnected.

Was this really the perfect ending for them? Come on tsukuyomi, you’re more creative than that.

For some reason I think that the tsukuyomi was freestyling all this. Bc (by my interpretation) the point of Kakashi’s dream was that he died at Kannabi Bridge instead of Obito, period. The rest is extra stuff bc their lives have to go on ig? Or maybe the infinite tsukuyomi is really big brained and depicted a realistic depiction of 🖐️🖐️🖐️HOLD THE FUCK UP I’M DUMB I JUST FIGURED SMTH OUT

Bro this is why I need to reread this instead of talking to myself when I don’t remember half the details in the fic.

OK SO HOUND DID FUCK SHIT UP🔥🔥🔥

I was trying to think why Sakumo would be alive (if my shit theory above was true, which it isn’t but I’m not deleting all that) AND IT WAS BC SAKUMO NOT KILLING HIMSELF IS HIS PERFECT WORLD 😭😭😭😭. The one thing I’m not so sure ab is Kannabi (I bet if I keep writing this I’ll find the answer) bc Obito WAS gonna get hit by that rock, but hey, he entered the dream after the Obito reveal so maybe his consciousness already knew he would survive, so maybe he’d just appear later in the dream idk. BUT BRO 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 WAS HE ACTUALLY SUPPOSED TO COME BACK HOME TO HIS DAD??? AND THEN HIS CONSCIOUSNESS KICKED IN AND HE SAVED OBITO INSTEAD??!!,.. oh I’m sick, this is so evil

That would literally make everything make sense. He derailed the dream so bad that it fucked everything up, making it no longer a perfect world but more similar to reality. If he really was supposed to die, then why did his death have such negative repercussions on everyone he loves? It that was his dream, wouldn’t it be a better world with everybody happy? He wasn’t supposed to die at Kannabi but Hound appeared and saved Obito from a rock, causing a massive butterfly effect.

Pretty romantic if you asked me, “I would leave behind my perfect world just to save you form getting hurt” like damn, it’s not like he remembered that Obito survived at this point in time, but still STOPP I’M DOING IT AGAIN I’M FOCUSING ON THE DETAILS AND NOT THE BIGGER PICTURE AAAA

El cazador de elefantes by Def Con Dos is a pretty good song, hm

Where was I going with this? Don’t remember tbh

This is kinda long, I’m stopping here. Bye internet void ✌️

[lynzishell]

The Past 💛 Atlas

I’m at my desk trying to focus on writing code for our game, but it’s slow going. Distracted by my own thoughts, I find myself staring out the window in front of me more often than not while my fingers rest on the keyboard. Ash sits patient and unbothered on my bed, playing on my Switch while he waits for me to finish.

We’re quieter today than usual, both of us tired and mildly hungover from the night before, but still determined to make some progress today.

I try my best to clear my mind, to focus on the screen in front of me and listen to the music coming from my Lin-Z speaker, quietly singing along and bouncing my leg anxiously to the beat. Every once in a while, Ash chimes in, singing a line or two along with me, and I realize how often I make him put up with my playlist even though he much prefers his own. But I have a specific one that helps me when I work, so he usually doesn’t protest too much.

As I sing the lyrics to Your Silent Face for about the thousandth time in my life, and still never tiring of it, I hear Ash join me in singing the last line, “You’ve caught me at a bad time. So, why don’t you piss off,” and we both chuckle under our breath. Over time it’s become a joke between us, ever since the day he walked up to me at work to invite me out for a drink and caught me singing the line aloud.

I think about that night at the bar often. Sitting in the dark corner, like we were in our own world, nothing in the universe existing but the two of us, talking until the bar closed. I remember how disappointed I was when we were eventually forced to leave, how nervous I was as we stood on the edge of the sidewalk. And I’ll never forget the first time that I kissed him.

I can’t help but wonder where we’d be now if I’d let things continue, if I hadn’t gotten in my head and panicked, if I hadn’t pushed him away. And I want nothing more than to set things right.

As he sits behind me on my bed, I can’t stop thinking about the last time he was there and the words he said to me. I wish I’d handled it differently. I want to take it all back. To tell him he was right. But I don’t know how. Ash is the easiest person in the world to talk to, and yet, every time I think of opening my mouth to say anything I have a deep sense of dread that it will come out all wrong, that I’ll somehow make everything worse by doing so.

“I have a question.” The sound of Ash’s voice breaks through my thoughts, and I stop typing, suddenly nervous, though I’m not sure why.

“What’s up?”

“The whole I-don’t-date-people-I-work-with thing, is that for real? Or is it your way of letting me down gently?”

I’m a bit confused by his question. Could he really think I’m not into him and just saying that to spare his feelings? “No, I meant it.”

“Why? What’s the big deal?”

I get up from my desk and walk over to join him on the bed as I think about how to answer. I hate that I suddenly feel the need to defend an argument that I don’t fully believe, but what else am I supposed to do? Say never mind, I was full of shit? Or actually I’ve changed my mind, let’s forget about it. I can’t do that. So, I give a reason, and secretly hope he makes a solid rebuttal that will give me the opening I need to take it back, “It’s messy,” I say, “Like, if we get in a fight or break up, and still have to work together, it’s just—”

“Messy?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay...” he stands and walks over to my bookshelf, looking over it like he’s suddenly very interested in my old worn-out copies of Tolkien books. I have a tendency to reread the same books, the same way I listen to the same songs over and over. I suppose I find comfort in the familiar. Maybe even more so than most. I’m tempted to make a comment about it, but I know Ash well enough by now to know that he’s not interested in the books, that he’s thinking carefully about what he wants to say next, so I wait. Eventually, he turns back to me, “So, if we didn’t work together…?”

“Then, it’d be different.”

The corner of his mouth pulls up into a smirk as he walks over. He doesn’t stop until he’s standing right in front of me, his legs between mine. He tilts his head to the side curiously, “Different how? Show me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s pretend for, say, five minutes, that we don’t work together.” He leans forward, bringing his hand up to my cheek, his face mere inches from mine, the spices from the chai tea he drank on his way over still lingering on this breath, and I feel a rush of heat fill my face and neck as if the very nearness of him has set me alight.  

“Five minutes?”

“Mhm,” he grins, “Five minutes. What would you do differently?” His eyes take on that playful glimmer that makes my heart race. I know that look. He knows I know that look. And it all goes to my head until all I can think about is pulling him back onto the bed with me.  

 “Set a timer.”

He smiles as he pulls his phone from his pocket, the warmth of his hand still lingering on my cheek as he slides his thumb over the screen before turning it around to show me it’s set for exactly 05:00. “Starting… now,” he presses the green button and tosses it onto the bed.

I waste no time, reaching for him as soon as the phone leaves his hand, and pulling him with me as I lie back. He falls on top of me with a startled laugh.

I don’t have the luxury of taking things slowly, of savoring each second the way I normally would. Instead, I roll him over and kiss him fiercely. Our legs intertwine, and I hold him as close to me as I can, wishing we’d had time to remove our clothes so I could feel his skin against mine.

Our kisses become deep and passionate, and I start to resent the timer counting down, my awareness of it preventing me from fully giving in to the moment. I’m tempted to reach over and turn it off, but I can’t do that, so instead I move my lips to his jaw, following the path of his birthmark and burying my face in his neck wishing I could pause time through sheer will alone.

And then the timer goes off. A series of loud beeps brings the room back into focus, and we pull away, breathless and laughing.

“Time’s up,” I say as I prop myself up on my elbow.

“Damn. I should’ve gone for an hour.”

“That would’ve been dangerous.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“Guess you’ll never know,” I laugh as he pushes me away playfully so he can get to his phone, still beeping behind us.

The sounds of Blue Monday coming from the speaker take the place of the alarm as he shuts it off and slides the phone back into his pocket. “Okay, well,” he looks over at me, “you’ve convinced me.”

Convinced him? I suddenly feel as though I’ve missed something along the way. “Convinced you of what?”

“I’ll put in my notice on Monday.”

Everything inside me halts. My heart, my breath, every cell in my body stopping in their tracks. “You’re not serious.”

He shrugs as though what he’s saying is no big deal, “Why not? It’s just a job. I’ll find another one. Question is, is that enough? Or are you gonna make me wait the two weeks until I’m actually gone?”

My body restarts again, overcorrecting and going into overdrive, panicking at the idea of him leaving, of not seeing him every day. Getting coffee, going for walks, eating lunch, telling stupid inside jokes over IM and hearing him laugh from across the room… all of it… ending. “I… I don’t want you to quit.”

“Well, if you won’t let me be both, then I choose boyfriend over co-worker.”

“Wh- boyfriend?” A fresh wave of anxiety pours over me at the word. I mean, I get it, we’re obviously not just friends, I don’t think we ever have been, and we’re clearly incapable of being casual, at least with each other, so boyfriend makes sense, but hearing him say the word only reminds me of how incompetent and inexperienced I am when it comes to real relationships.

“Or am I just a piece of ass?”

“What?! No, of course not, it’s not like that.”

“What’s the problem then?”

I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out. I have no idea what I’m supposed to say. My head spins, scrambling to come up with something... I can’t let him quit his job just to be with me. It’s too much. And I don’t want to not work with him. But I can’t tell him I want him to stay and be with me. Not after all the time I’ve spent insisting he can’t. Even if I could, I have no idea how to be his boyfriend. Not for real. But isn’t this exactly what I wanted?

I have to find a way to talk to him, but the longer I stay silent, the harder it is to find the words as they get crowded out by the growing chaos of conflicting thoughts swirling around my head like an out-of-control Tilt-A-Whirl.

Next to me, I feel his shoulders slump, and I know I’ve let him down… again. “Right.” He says this as if my silence has told him everything he needs to know. “I can’t keep doing this with you, Atlas," he sighs, "I’m tired of the mixed signals. I wish you could just be honest with me. When you're ready to do that, let me know. But I’m not going to wait around much longer. I can’t.”

I reach for him as he gets up to leave, “Ash, wait.”

But he shrugs me off, “Nah,” and continues out the door.

Once he’s gone, I lie down on the bed wondering how the hell I’ve managed to fuck this up yet again.

Maybe it was stupid of me to think I could do things differently.

And, if that’s the case, maybe it’s time I let him go.

As this realization sinks in, I feel my heart start to break, slowly at first, small fissures splintering, then shattering all at once as I stare silently at the floor, my throat tightening as my body tries desperately to remember how to cry, to give some kind of cathartic release for the pain. But, just like me, it fails yet again.

Prev // Deja vu // Next

[bibibbon]

Izuku and Natuso anon

Wait, almost every family member heard the "forgiveness is kind" line? That's even worse than I remember because I reread and nobody responded to him, either positive or negative.

What's the point of such a line? It's certainly not helping "atonement, not redemption" Endeavor or his fans insisting the narrative is not encouraging his forgiveness. The MC is spouting BS platitudes so forced that everyone else in the room needs to pretend it wasn't said, so it doesn't point how easily it falls apart.

Yep basically the whole family except of Rei who was in the hospital heard that line and somehow no one, NOT EVEN NATSOU commented got to comment on anything and I just think that this is classic horikoshi robbing character of agency and autonomy just the characters dismiss enji. Heck it rubs me the wrong way that it's only bakugo who goes like "if you hate the guy so much then just don't forgive him".

The line doesn't help and does nothing good by existing all it does is make characters seem ooc and make it so that enji is going more for a redemption than a proper atonement (I seriously wish he didn't get redeemed or atoned) 😒😒

Also I believe that this is where horikoshi started using Izuku as a mouthepeice because early arcs izuku wouldn't say this type of bs. If izuku were allowed to take proper development he would get to introspect on his own experiences and actually hate enji

[bellewintersroe]

Max Verstappen x HornerDaughter!

ahhhh sorry for such a big break!!! I’ve been super busy and had no motivation to write- hopefully this writers block doesn’t last too much longer!! Here’s the LINK for part 17. Part 18 - Leni struggles with the loneliness she didn’t expect when arriving back in England. Without speaking to Max and completely skipping the Las Vegas GP, she thinks she’s hit a low point. Little does she know it’s about to get a whole lot worse when Max spots her with no other than her ex-boyfriend…

Sunday, 19th November 2023 - Las Vegas GP weekend.

The Las Vegas weekend was booming. Parties were happening left right and centre, alcohol was flowing and the advertising was just obnoxious.

Obnoxious that was to me. Whilst the race was occurring I was fast asleep- that quiet Sunday afternoon I sat in a local pub with a handful of my closer friends from my school days. It would’ve been pretty wholesome if my ex boyfriend didn’t just turn up out of the blue. I couldn’t have rolled my eyes any harder, immediately turning back to my phone to scroll past the many pictures of Max celebrating his win.

The sense of separation was straight up depressing. In fact, what happened between Max and I seemed to hurt worse than my breakup with my boyfriend of four years. I very quickly began to realise the overwhelmingly stupid mistake I’d made with Max. I no longer knew how to handle the feelings I had for him- who to tell, who to turn to. I replayed every moment over and over in my head about where it all went wrong- how it all went wrong. I was positive I’d exhausted all my friend’s ears about the topic, yet I still couldn’t rid the ache off my chest, no matter how hard I tried. “Guys let’s get a picture!!” My attention was diverted to my friend holding a phone up at the head of the table. Little did I know, taking that picture was about to make my life 10x more dramatic. It seemed that Max somehow did see a lot of things on social media, including the pictures of me and my friends and, sadly, my ex boyfriend sat right next to me. It’s not like I even talked to him once. So of course when my phone buzzed whilst I was sat at home later that evening, it was like all my prayers had been answered. Max had text. However, reading the message wasn’t so… prayers-being-answered-worthy. “I’m gonna go to bed, night night, you two.” I was very quick to leave the room I was in, my two siblings watching me in confusion as I sheepishly hurried upstairs. I didn’t even make it to my room before I was stood still, rereading the bitter toned text from Max.

Max: you could have told me if there was a reason you didn’t want to be with me

The message was short, sharp, it kinda didn’t make any sense, hence to why I was constantly re-reading it. My heart rate was sky high, and if I didn’t eventually collapse on my bed, I would’ve fainted from the lack of oxygen. I didn’t have it in me to hold the reply for another few minutes. I stared in utter confusion, feeling all the colour drain from my face. Leni: what????

Max: you’re back with your ex already

I momentarily frowned at the text, wincing in utter confusion. It became very clear what he was talking about when I remembered the picture from prior today. I felt borderline frantic, then silly. Max being bothered about this was a punch in the gut, maybe now was my chance to explain myself completely. Leni: he’s still friends with everybody, I didn’t speak to him once but I can’t stop him from going out to the same places as me? Max: ok

Leni: can we talk properly about all this? I let out a sigh, feeling as though my chest was about to literally explode. I couldn’t crucify with myself any longer knowing I’d completely destroyed this. Now Max was being blunt? Borderline petty? I knew how he normally text and this wasn’t right. The tears began to form around the same time my fingers started to tremble over my keypad. Max: I don’t know what there’s to talk about Leni

Leni: the fact you think I didn’t want to be serious with you because of my ex?? Max: I know that’s not the only reason

Leni: no its not a reason at all, me and my ex literally haven’t spoken a word to each other since we broke up, things didn’t work between us and I don’t want them to, I stopped things cos you’ve literally just broken up with Kelly, its way too soon

Max: it’s been months Leni, you know how I felt about that relationship and exactly why it ended, you know I would’ve waited for you, but it was all too immature for me, sleeping with each other and then nothing progresses? I don’t want that with you. Despite my attempts, there was no possible way I could even fathom a response. Anything I typed sounded pathetic or desperate- exactly how I felt. Max thought I was immature, maybe I was, but it still hurt to hear from him. I was torn between begging desperately for his forgiveness or succumbing to my internalised rage- thankfully I decided neither would work.

Instead, I kept myself to myself, using my I phone notes to rant out my dismay about the situation- about myself. I’d played Olivia Rodrigo on repeat, cried myself to sleep and during my showers, most mornings, if not all, I woke up with puffy eyes. I had officially hit rock bottom, and there was nothing I could do. I stared at myself back in the mirror. My eyes were red rimmed and despite my best efforts, the swelling around them hadn’t gone down. It didn’t help I couldn’t stop crying. I was so pathetic and immature, Max was right. I was being so dramatic, treating this like I’d broken up from my decade-long boyfriend. But I soon came to realise that’s exactly what it felt like. I’d been friends with Max for as long as I could remember, even during the awkward teenage days when I was too scared to be around boys. I remembered the prior few years before, when I was so happy to see him at the Grand Prix weekends, how close we’d been. Maybe getting together in the first place was a mistake? No. No that can’t be right.

How could it be when I’d just realised I loved him- and I think I always had.

My forehead dropped against the mirror with a groan, only picking it up when my phone screen lit up from the floor below me. At first my eyebrows knotted together, then they released in surprise.

Dad: I’ve bought your tickets to fly to AUH on Thursday. Geri’s told me you’ve been moping around, we’ll talk about it when you get here but I’m not having you missing the last Grand Prix. Fuck. Don’t get me wrong- anybody should and would be grateful for their dad doing this for them, and I was. But the thought of seeing Max was terrifying- I felt like an outsider, somebody who shouldn’t be there. It dawned on me that everybody’s friends and families would be there- including Max- I’d have to face his mum and sister knowing everything that had happened between us. I proceeded to drop my head against the mirror again. The anxiousness grew in my belly fast, all I wanted these past few days was to see Max, now all I could hope was for not to see him. As much as I hated to admit it, I absolutely dreaded the Grand Prix. Not only was I an angsty mess- I was an ungrateful one too…

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Taglist: @ironmaiden1313 @callsignwidow @fangirl125reader @norassimpingzone @roseseraj @eugene-emt-roe @copper-boom @its-elias-world @cassiopeiia24@larastark3107 @maxxiemoo @crashingwavesofeuphoria @18754389 @eviethetheatrefreak @rossylightwood @formula1mount @gulphulp @lou-bean28

[science-lings]

dipping my toes back into the zelda/LU fandom bc there's some good ass fanfiction that I haven't reread in a couple years and remember when people got pissy when Wild's child soldier status was explored as if that isn't an extremely fascinating thing to consider about the character.

Like sure some of the links were young on their adventures and that's great trauma for them but for some reason it was annoying when people mentioned that Wild pulled the sword way before the calamity struck and was forced to train and be very visibly in the public eye from a young age. Like the pressure of being the hero everyone needed him to be impacted him so much that he went mute, he was a weapon the king was trying to forge to face the calamity and his mere existence is an omen for oncoming disaster and even with all that time to become the best warrior the kingdom has ever seen, it was still not enough and he didn't even make it to the castle.

That's amazingly devastating, it's such an interesting subversion of the zelda formula of 'surprise, normal kid gets a sword and is sent off to save the world'. Sure, at some point he was just some guy but it wasn't like completely a surprise attack like it usually is. There was a prophecy and warning signs and time to try to prevent the calamity and it was all destined to not be enough. No matter how much he trained or how many weapons they had on their side it wasn't going to be enough and that's so important to the story.

My only pet peeve about the stories that do touch on Wild's past is the implication that he's somehow worse than the Link that fled the calamity. As if his work to regain his former strength and skills really meant nothing and the guy before, who remember, DIED BECAUSE HE WASNT STRONG ENOUGH, because that guy has years of training and a more soldier-y disposition he's a better fighter than Wild, who has the same skills but isn't restrained by protocol or proper technique.

[ranposgirlboss]

So so so remember the "types of hugs they would give" that can also be seen platonic ? Could you do something like it with headpats please ? Any characters but could you include Ranpo, Poe, Mushitarou and Yokomizo please ?

YES I CAN. SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG 😭

also yokomizo might be a lil ooc since i like barely understand his chara and i had to reread those chapters to try to BUT I TRIED MY BEST 😭

chara list: mushitarou (mushytaro), ranpo, poe, yokomizo, dazai, and chuuya

these are all completely platonic!!!

also im really sick so im really sorry if it seems lazy!!

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

MUSHITAROU

-HELP HE WOULD BE SO SASSY AS FIRST ANND PROBABLY DEADPAN YOU

-"UGH YOURE GOING TO MESS MY HAIR >:("

-secretly he likes it tho but HE cant admit that!!11!1

-OMG IMAGINE IF YOU GAVE HIS GHOSTS HEADPATS TOO

-AAAAAAAAAA I LOVE CUTE LITTLE GHOSTS SM

-also it would be kinda funny if u tried to give one of his ghosts a headpat and then ur hand just fucking phased through 💀

RANPO

-OMG HE LOVES IT AND GIVES U MANY HEADPATS BACK

-whenever yall are leaving after hanging out yalls goodbye is giving each other head pats <333

-he gets actually so happy omg

-i can see it where he likes both headpats and praise, they pretty much go hand in hand <33

-IDK WHAT ELSE TO WRITE OTHER THAN HE REALLY LOVES THEM HELP 😭

POE

-THESE PICTURES ARE ACTUALLY MY SERATONIN BOOST EVERY SINGLE DAY

-he enjoys head pats but is a bit shy to give them back bc he doesn't know if you're comfortable for not

-if you ask him to tho, he def will

-his smile would be so adorable if u gave him some omg

-pls give my man some headpats bc while he might not show his happiness externally he is so happy on the inside <333

YOKOMIZO

-I LITERALLY THOUGHT HE WAS A GILR WHEN I FIRST READ THE MANGA BYE (i haven't watched the anime so i didn't get the voice cue)

-I HAD TO LOOK UP IF HE WAS A GUY OR GIRL OUT OF CONFUSION

-i didnt think venti was a girl but then i somehow think he's a girl bye

-he seems like a nice chad so he will probably thank u and pat u back <33

-he just seems nice and calm so he wouldn't freak out about it and hell probably just smile and maybe tease you a bit about it

DAZAI

-DAZAAIIIII

-dazai would give u them back but like in the most chaotic way possible

-he would probably attempt to tackle you like a football player and just keep on patting your head like 298874932 times

-youll probably scream ad try to get away from his grip

-never make the same mistake again because it will only get worse

-or do it again and be prepared to be literally murdered by him

CHUUYA

-HE WILL PROBABLY JUMP AND ALMOST MURDER YOU BY ACCIDENT

-like bro will jump and then turn around and almost punch you if you try to do it behind him

-it will be so SO hard to get him to pat u back

-hes too prideful tbh

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

THANK YOU FOR READING!!! sorry this is so short im sick so i had to take a lot of breaks in between and i had to work a lot even tho im sick which made me a lot more tired lmaiujkahbsjkm

MY REQS ARE ALWAYS OPEN!!!!

[abombihoney]

my thoughts as I read the new (6 months old) chapter of ethnoentomology bc i said would live blog it and this is least annoying way i can do so.

Hornet really just fucking pulled a gun out im like 1 minute fucking in jesus girl.

---

---

ooooooooh my fucking god he's literally a sopping wet little meow meow. i WILL be coming back 2 this.

---

what this fucking pronoun fuckery i need to reread this shit im onto something. i need to add all my annotations together. i need a conspiracy board. i need to make a chart with color coded lines

---

I wish Hallownest’s official language was anything other than “cryptic riddles.”

me too dude the fuck.

---

CHANCE BEING EMOTIONALLY INTELLIGENT???? telling lurien he isn't at fault for the radiance's actions

however... how could he think anything else really. he is all for blaming the radiance for everything.

i'm feeling a delicious mix of "can i even trust my own thoughts" mixed with Chance trying to separate what was him versus what was other.

What happens when (if) he manages to separate what actions were wholly him with no outside influence? What will he regret? What will he desperately try to justify?

How would he even determine what is him and what is the influence of the radiance? He has no memory of past actions to compare against. He can't necessarily even trust the memories he does have, they're full of hallucinations, gaps in memory where he doesn't know what he did. If it was "him" that did it. AAAAAAAAAAAUGH

___

is chance checking out of reality a lot rn or am i looking too deep. there seems to be a lot of "jump cuts"

---

back 2 valleri. info dump for me lurien i only read a handful of chapters of midnight rider.

---

 "I couldn’t tell you how many times she would’ve been jailed or worse"

wait wasnt she jailed tho. didnt she like. immediately punch pk in the face or am i misremembering. does lurien not know this. i feel like he should be told this information somehow bc like. i feel like it would give him a heart attack.

---

VALLERI LEFT SOMETHING FOR CHANCE???? THE PLOT THICKENS HELLO???

---

why is chance so gay he is SO focused on lurien all the time jesus christ man. i feel like i keep getting trapped in one of them slow burn fics where they keep almost kissing.

FUCKIGN 2 SECONDS LATER:

Having grabbed something from a small drawer in the table behind Chance, Lurien settled back, (disappointingly) further away from him.

chance ur down bad. this is going to blow up in his face spectacularly somehow. good 2 know i wasnt imagining the horny descriptions of lurien from last chapt.

---

new theory: valleri is a time-traveling post-transition chance. source: my other theory that valleri and chance are closely related. similar temperament and appearance. both from california or w/e.

wait i think i remember valleri have future seeing powers. i refuse to finish reading midnight rider until ethno is done tho so i'm keeping my theory

---

Chance reflexively rejected this information before he could begin processing its implications.

side effects of having magic powered by belief: may decide to just ignore things bc if u believe it you make it true. denial is a powerful drug

wait. hmmmmm.

did the radiance take chance's memories? or did chance want to forget? like could also totes be the cool magical barrier that wipes ur memories to prevent the radiance from escaping the corpse of hallownest. but now i am thinking of all the fucked up implications of something so horrible (by a teenagers standards) that chance wanted to forget everything.

---

TUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUSK MY BABY TUSK POV TUSK POV TUSK POV

oh no the baby is injured.

They needed to find Chance. He would heal them, like always—

ur honor they love each so much!!!!!!!!! might be becoming a lil codependent but ITS FINE

---

checks out that hornet was a vicious little child lmao

---

“For Hallownest, there is no cost too great. That is what I told Him.”

OH SHIT

---

oh fuck yeah i fucking love use of game mechanics in stories for problem solving. go little guy go!

---

HEY WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK

Like life’s just a script and she’s waiting for her cue.

OH? paralleling what lurien said about PK. INTRIGUING.

(fucked up evil theory: The parallels between PK and Valleri that are being drawn here... from what I understand Valleri became INCREDIBLY close and attached to hallownest. What if Chance is Valleri's hollow knight?)

---

The White Palace was destroyed. But so was the Watcher’s Spire, and Chance could put that back.

my sweet child, you are going to fucking kill chance

---

Too cowardly to confront her own cowardice.

ruh roh raggy. hornet's going to have to contend with the fact that she has killed her own siblings in cold blood eventually. possibly soon

---

fuck yeah i love worldbuilding. tell me more about how the fictional bug city built in a wet cave functioned and how the class divide determined transportation methods.

---

*slaps chance* this baby can fit so much PTSD in it

---

this is spelling euphoria isn't it.

---

hey wait doesn't chance have boat trauma??? didn't he see a corpse under a boat in the last chapter of act 1???

---

something bad is going to happen. we're building so much suspense.

---

"Chance"

??????? WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON NOW???????

---

 draped half overboard like a dirty wet rag

chance's natural state really.

---

something in their Void was churning

This happens directly after Chance has his little episode with the boat. Are Chance and Tusk connected by the void? Didn't something similar happen in the last chapter??

---

Hornet i love u. She's so spiderman coded.

---

—Tusk whacked the switch to the elevator and went up and away. “Wh—Vessel! Hold on!”

see u idiot

---

Ah Lemm, the confidence of a man who is very very wrong. he'd shit his pants if he saw all the human shit in the junkyard lmao.

---

Several photos were attached to the line and dangled from ceiling to floor. Dozens of lines around the room like party streamers, a hundred little memories swaying gently in the dust.

megamind ass organization system

---

burned painting frame.... coating the room in ash.. im sure this holds no significance whatsoever and won't come up again.

---

Tusk has so much youngest sibling energy lmao

---

uh oh hornet. ur getting attached.

---

this is to hornet also, isnt it?

WAHT THE FUCK

---

oh okay they are connected. poor tusk and chance. they r gonna become a feedback loop up fucked up huh

---

wait does chance not know shes the princess. lmao

---

aww hug fest JEREMY REAL??? or is hornet infected too hello????

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IM GOING FERAL VALLERIS SEEING SO MANY THINGS AT ONCE AND REACTING TO ALL OF THEM HELLO?????

---

oh my god i feel like ive been punched seventeen times in a row. i have so much hype i need to run a marathon. im fucking spinning in circles im filled with unrestrained summer fun oh my god im supposed to sleep soon i dont know if i can manage stop thinking long enough to do that holy shit

[hailqiqi]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers (except me because obvs I have done it). Spread the self-love ❤

Thank you for the ask!! Also thank you for the ask @womaninwinter and @menina89 -- yes I have three of these (sometimes I think with us lot it's now a game of 'who gets to tag everyone first' ak;ljd;akd)

I'm scanning my list on AO3 now...

the world is out there, my dear, but we're in here (VLD) This fic is really short & I'm a little bit surprised it gets my #1 spot, to be honest, but every time I look at even just the title I hear the rain. It's an inspired bit of writing, and I have no idea how the hell I did it. (Trivia: Somebody wrote it a comment that was longer than the actual fic and I adore that person.)

these secrets beneath your fingertips (Lockwood) I really enjoyed writing this, but i have no idea how it ended up like this. I think it's known by people as the murder fic? But I really enjoy how much tension there is in the first part, and how meltingly, exhaustedly warm the second part is by contrast. Funnily enough I thought it was just a very tense detective/action sequence but didn't think the content was too bad; then the ladies beta-ing for me said 'Qiqi, what the fuck is this' and a lot of the comments also said 'Qiqi, what the fuck' so apparently I watched too much SVU as a teenager.

Worse (Lockwood) This was close with secrets for #2, but I reread secrets more often so I think that gets the higher spot for enjoyability. I'm extremely proud of this one; I'd always been a bit scared to attempt a George POV but I think I did really well, and I also think I nailed the action here (which VLD friends may remember that I was always a bit too nervous to attempt action!). Trivia here: Worse contains the line ‘Lucy! Please, come on! The place is tearing itself apart!’ and literally everybody who beta-read this fic said 'Hey, that line's a bit redundant. It's such a weird thing for him to say. You should cut it.' Alas, I couldn't cut it as that line is lifted directly from The Hollow Boy (and, funnily enough, Lucy immediately points out in her narration that it's a bit redundant). This little factoid always makes me giggle.

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like a Christmas Carol (VLD) Ahhhhhhh I think we knew this had to be on here, right? This fic was so much fun to write, it was like a fever dream. I still can't believe that @sp4c3-0ddity, @rueitae and I co-ordinated and banged out almost 20,000 words of fic in the space of what, five days?? And yes, that five days is from 'Hey, wouldn't it be cool if we...' to posting. And we all have vastly different writing styles and slightly different characterisation habits, yet somehow we managed to share a single POV and keep it pretty cohesive. At the time I was proud of us, now I'm older and (supposedly) wiser I'm even more proud of us. We did great. @fromageinterrupted likes to say she reads it every year in the holiday season and I do the same (and then just every so often...) because it's a fun fic.

A Handy Excuse (Lockwood) | Sunshine and Phone Lines (VLD) | so it turns out I kind of missed you (VLD) | Here (VLD) OK I'm kind of cheating here, because I couldn't pick a favourite for fifth. - A Handy Excuse was a blast to write -- it was fun having 6 people in the same google doc, all writing out separate parts -- yep, we all wrote in the same doc to put our shame on full display. Which was really cool (I think most of us have the instinct to write in a separate doc and only contribute to the shared doc when we have a finished draft to polish, but we were all very brave and wrote from scratch in the one). I love how the pieces come together; my part was an absolute blast to write (can I admit publicly now that I did Kipps? I got to find out the name of the circus tune!) and the story itself is a really cute read that always makes me smile. - Sunshine and Phone Lines is my one foray into a modern AU and I had a lot of fun writing it. It's probably the one thing that I can throw at somebody with no knowledge of any fandom and say 'hey, I wrote this'. I like how it feels sunny, just the vibes are very positive in the whole piece, and I am an absolute sucker for a bit of dramatic irony. I always end up smiling when I reread this, too. - so it turns out I kind of missed you is another really fun piece. It's short, it's funny, it's sweet -- honestly it's another one I could probably file the serial numbers off of if I wanted. Lance's brother makes me laugh every time I read it, it's another one of those stories that you reread and end up smiling -- though this time it's the big, the-sun-just-came-out type smile. - Here is going to ruin the vibes of all these sunny fluff fics I have in at #5 becuase it is angst. But it's angst with a lot of love and comfort. Evidently I had a thing with water falling when I wrote plangst, because the world... has rain and this one is in a shower. I love how quietly intimate it is, and how it demonstrates how strong the bonds of friendship and care can be. (I feel like it was originally supposed to be a shippy fic but part-way through writing I threw that out the window? It's Gen, really, but I tagged it with the ship so my friends would see it.)

This is supposed to be an ask game but I've now got two hours to knock out about 8 hours' worth of work so.. tags it is!

@rueitae @sp4c3-0ddity @uptoolateart @fromageinterrupted @almostlikequake @worldofkaeos

[avatarmerida]

Another part to the roller skater Willow/ student council Hunter AU fic because @turquoisespace35 made this and it inspired me

First part ✌️

———

Hunter had found the note after lunch in his locker

Come to the dance with me?

-Willow

It waited for him tucked safely in a green envelope with a ticket for tonight’s dance. His heart spun as he reread the sentence. It was so simple, so straightforward, yet he could not seem to comprehend it.

Him? And Willow? At the dance? Together? He knew what it meant to go to a dance with someone, he knew plenty of people went as just friends but so say ‘with me’ meant something. She could have said ‘come to the dance’ but no, this meant she wanted them to go together, to be by his side all night. She wanted to be seen with him after school. She wanted to plan them spending time together. She wanted to be his date. This meant… so much more than he ever hoped for.

He hadn’t planned on going to the dance, he had a million reasons not to: it was too loud, too late, he was too busy, he had nothing to wear. The list went on and on, but even more than all that now, he had one wonderful reason to change his mind.

He didn’t have time to go home and change, and he didn’t think to bring a change of clothes with him.He realized this too late, as he had to stay late to help finish setting up for the event. He thought he would be leaving after, before the chaos started, but found himself anxious to see the transition. Luckily he kept a spare uniform jacket in the student council office so at least he would look pressed and pristine. Luckily, he had just enough time to prepare himself.

Well, on the surface level at least. He knew how he was supposed to look but he had no idea what he was meant to do.

Did he wait inside the gym? Outside the gym? Outside the school? He hadn’t seen her after finding the note so they had never established a meeting place or time. He hated the thought of her having to search for him because he didn’t know the way these things were typically done, thinking he was late or wasn’t excited to see her. He held the flowers so tight the stems were dented where his hands had been. He had somehow found the time to gather flowers for her, feeling like he should not show up empty handed.

His mind raced with different greetings, depending on if she said something first or where she found him. He had several explanations for his attire that he hoped she would find humorous enough to let slide. She was the only person who genuinely thought he could be funny. He would try to balance the humor with charm, and show her a different side of him. He listened to some of the songs he knew would be played so he could recognize them and give the appearance he did things like this all the time.

You like this song? Me too! How crazy we have so much in common! He’d say. Yeah, I remembered once you mention you play music for your flowers in the greenhouse, I can go request one of those songs if you want. I’m totally not nervous at all.

He wandered between every possible event entrance, trying to see where most pairs met up and stood near there. But it looked like Willow was running late.

I can make a joke about that, he thought. From last time, if she feels bad, mention how she said she’s never late and say you’ll write her up. She’ll think that’s funny.

But there came a time even when the latest students stopped wandering in. People were even starting to leave. It was clear Willow was not coming, and that she never was. He felt the crisp wind sting his eyes as he surrendered his hope to the muffled sounds of music and laughter. Who was he fooling? He was never meant to be a part of that. The flowers in his hands mocked him, transforming from a beacon of hope to tangible proof that he was a fool.

He saw what the halls were like come Monday morning, dynamics dramatically shifted for the worse more often than for the better from just one night. It was unavoidable, like the air held something demanding of change.

There was a reason he never went to dances, people often show their true colors and no one ever sees it coming.

“Hey Hunter,” came a bubbly voice heading towards him. He looked up and saw Willow skating towards him, smiling as she stopped in front of him. She was still wearing her uniform, like she was unaware of the event taking place. For once the sight of her did not lift his spirits. “What are you doing here?’ she asked with a smile.

Hunter scoffed. What a question to ask someone you left waiting all night, he thought. What a way to rub it in.

“Nice of you to show up,” he said, his voice stern in a way Willow had never seen directed at her before. He threw his wilted bouquet at her feet and she looked at him with concern and confusion as he refused to look at her.

“Hunter? What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Oh, really? You just wanna hear me say it, huh?” he spat. “You want me to admit I’m an idiot so you can rub it in more? You want to know what I was thinking, waiting here all night? That I was hurt? That I was worried something happened to you? T-that I couldn’t believe I ever thought-.”

“Hunter! Stop,” she said, her heart breaking as she saw the tears forming in his eyes. “What do you mean you were waiting for me? I wasn’t even gonna come tonight.”

“Was it some kind of joke I was supposed to just know?” he continued, his voice getting higher and more distraught. “Was this you trying to get back at me for something?”

He pulled her note from his breast pocket and tossed it down so it joined his bouquet at her feet. She picked it up to read it, but it only made her confusion grow.

“Hunter, what is- I didn’t write this,” she said.

“I don’t know what else you have planned but I’ve had a long day so if you could just drop the act I-,”

“Hunter, I’m serious,” she said. “I swear on my bees, I didn’t write you this note.”

“Please, do you really expect me to believe that someone would want me to think that you- oh,” Hunter knew exactly who would, and who had motive to. Boscha blamed Willow for Hunter’s impeachment of her from the student council, so it made sense he’d want to get back at both of them by causing a rift between them. He suddenly somehow felt even stupider. He sunk to the ground and buried his face in his hands and Willow knew his sorrow had been replaced by embarrassment. It wasn’t ideal, but it was better.

“Yeah,” she said softly, sharing his suspicion about who had planted the seed for their misunderstanding. “I was supposed to be at the Owl House, I didn’t even buy a ticket.”

“Oh,” was all Hunter could say. He remembered this, Amity had mentioned it. He already knew she wasn’t going to the dance when he got the note, he should’ve known all along that it was fake. How could he have been so stupid? Now that he once again knew she wasn’t cruel, he felt stupider for realizing he was stupid in front of her.

“I’m so sorry,” he sighed, hugging his knees to his chest. “I should’ve known it was something like that. Even if it wasn’t, I still shouldn’t speak to you like that. You’re a really nice person, and if you stood me up I’m sure you had a good reason.”

“Hunter, it’s understandable that you’d be upset,” she said, walking carefully up the steps to be beside him. “I should’ve known Boscha had something like this planned, she kept telling me to have a nice weekend and kept bringing you up. I’m sorry she’s roping you into her problem with me.”

“No, I should’ve known it wasn’t you because she didn’t dot her ‘i’s with flowers,” Hunter admitted as his regret grew. “Now that I say it out loud there were so many signs that the note couldn’t have been from you.”

Especially the idea of her liking me back, he thought to himself.

“Did you at least have a little fun at the dance?” she asked gently as she sat beside him on the steps.

“I was too nervous to go in by myself,” he admitted. “It’s probably for the best anyway, I don’t think anyone would have fun if I was there.”

“It does sound like they’re having fun,” she sighed. Hunter could tell she sounded envious, she clearly wanted to be inside. She belonged inside. “I think you’d find a way to have a good time if you tried.”

“Yeah well, there’s really nothing about dances that appeals to me,” he said. Willow would normally ask, ‘then why did you come?’ But the moment she opened her mouth her mind connected everything. That he thought she asked him on a date and he agreed and came to something he swore he never would just because she asked. He didn’t care about the dance, but he really cared about her.

“I’m sorry you had a crummy night,” she said sorrowfully. “Come Monday morning, I’m gonna teach Boscha a lesson.”

“No no, don’t do that,” he said. “We don’t have any proof it's her and even if we did, she didn’t technically break any rules, she just made me look dumb. But anyway, we shouldn’t stoop to her level.”

“Well maybe you can’t,” she said playfully, hoping to lift his spirits, but the disheartened look remained. He wanted to be here with her, and now he was, but he had lost any chance of her seeing him differently. “But if you didn’t go in, at least she didn’t get the satisfaction of seeing you worried.”

“Yeah, I guess,” he sighed, honestly he couldn’t care less about what Bocha thought of him. Willow hummed in response, picking up the song that was playing.

“So why aren’t you in there?” he asked. He was certain that plenty of people were dying to do with her, he imagined she’d be the life of any party. There was no way she hadn’t been asked by someone.

“Oh, well I was gonna go but the guy I wanted to ask said he doesn’t go to dances,” explained Willow. “So I offered to take Luz’s spot babysitting King so that she could go with Amity. Figured one of us deserved to have a romantic evening.”

“I see.”

“Yeah,” she said, stretching her legs in front of her. “But then Eda came home early so I rushed over to see if I could make the last few songs.”

Great, and she’s missing them to make sure I don’t feel bad about something that wasn’t even her fault, he thought.

“Well, I’m sorry he didn’t want to come,” said Hunter softly. “I’m sure if he knew you wanted to come with him he’d make an exception.”

“Ya know, I think he would too,” said Willow with a smug little smile. “He’s surprising like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“So is he… popular?” Hunter asked carefully, scratching his face as he tried to seem nonchalant.

Willow bit her lip. “You probably know him,” she gave him a non answer.

“Is he… taller than me?” he asked the last part quieter, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted her to hear it or not. He looked up to the sky, hoping to be convincing that he was totally normal about this conversation.

Willow giggled and nodded her head as she leaned back to join him in viewing the night sky. “He’s really cute and sweet; he’s on student council.”

Hunter’s face looked like he had just drank curdled milk as he slowly turned his face to her in shock. “Matt Tholemule?” He cringed.

“Ew, no!” Willow laughed, playfully hitting his shoulder. “The other guy on student council.”

“But the only other guy on the student council is me, so who-,” his eyes widened as the dots connected as he quickly turned to face her. Her smile confirmed his realization and promptly turned his face bright red before he returned his focus to the ground. “Oh. Oh”

“Yeah,” she said, tapping the toes of her skates together. “I’ve kinda sorta had a crush on him for awhile now? But he’s pretty busy so the only way I get to talk to him is when I’m in trouble.”

Hunter gulped, she sure was in trouble alot.

“And uh, if he felt differently about dances you would’ve wanted to go with him?” he asked softly.

“Well, I wanted to go with him no matter what,” she said. “He’s kind of my favorite part of school to be honest.”

“Really? How?” he said, beginning to doubt that it was truly him she meant.

“He’s fun to be around,” she said. “He’s smart and witty and really nice once you get to know him. I wanted to see what he was like off duty.”

“Well if he’s on school property then he would technically still be on duty,” said Huter matter-of-factly, before catching himself as he realized he was referring to himself. “I mean uh, i-if he’s on student council, that is.”

“Huh, you’re right,” she said. “He probably wouldn’t want to be seen with a troublemaker like me anyway, might be bad for his rep.”

“Yes I would!” he said quickly and desperately, before once again trying to appear cool. “I mean, I-I think he would.”

“Hmm,” Willow smiled. “Well then, if I do ask him next time, I’ll be sure to do it in person.”

“What if uh… what would happen if you had asked him tonight?” Hunter managed to brave through to ask. “What would you be doing right now?”

“Well, probably dancing I guess,” she smiled, as she looked down at her skates. “I probably would’ve worn different shoes for that.”

“What if he didn’t know how to dance?” he asked timidly. “Would you have… left?”

“Hmm no,” she said, leaning forward to rest her elbow on her knees. “I’d probably offer to teach him or I’m sure we would’ve found something else to do.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I mean, ideally by now we’d be kissing so-.”

Her eyes darted to Hunter whose face lit up in shock as he felt like the temperature had suddenly skyrocketed. She shot him her signature mischievous smirk, but Hunter couldn’t tell if it was meant to confirm or playfully negate the sentence.

He chuckled nervously, his mind longing to entertain the notion. But he was too in his head at school, he was certain he never would’ve made it that far. He’d find a way to ruin it everytime.

“Well, technically kissing on the school grounds is against the rules,” he nervously half recited the academy’s outdated policy on PDA.

“Really?” she said, shifting closer to him. “Well, he knows how I feel about following rules.”

“Yeah, but he probably wouldn’t even try because he has to set an example and uphold policy,” he said regretfully, his eyes darting between her and the ground.

“Is that the only reason he wouldn’t try?” she asked bashfully, something hopeful shining behind her eyes.

He looked up at her in awe, unable to answer her. It wasn’t a simple yes or no or maybe. It was just unknowable. He’d want to, yes. He’d think about it and stress over it and kick himself for every passing moment and keep talking himself out of it and probably run and hide a few times. But he both could and could not imagine it, like it was something there but never ready. It was confusing.

She accepted his silence, sensing the answer held more than he could carry right now. If anything, now he had time to prepare.

“Hey, help me up?” she asked, pointing to her skates with her head. He leapt up, and offered her his hand as he guided her down the steps, watching the careful ways her wheels found balance before moving. When he reached the bottom step, she spun him around and placed her hand on his shoulders for him to face her.

“There,” she said, proudly as she held him in place. “You are officially off school property.”

“What?”

“This sidewalk is public property, so where you stand now means you are not on school property and are therefore off duty.”

“Okaaay,” he chuckled. “But why does that matter?”

“So now you’ll know,” she said, able to look into his eyes as a combination of her skates and the step she stood on put them at equal height. “If that’s the only reason.”

His mind raced, trying to play every scenario simultaneously as he tried to remember how to tell if something was a dream. A part of him had still doubted she had been referring to him, but nothing in her eyes allowed him to doubt now. But he continued to sabotage himself.

“But uh you’re still technically on school grounds,” he said. “So it would still be breaking the rules.”

“Yeah, but only one of us would be.”

“Which one?”

“Weeell,” she said dreamily, adjusting her arms so they were draped around his neck. “I don’t think it matters; I have a feeling the head of the student council won’t be able to do much about it anyway.”

“Oh yeah?” he said, the calmness of her tone luring him in and putting him at ease. He leaned into her touch as their usual banter adopted a new form. “And why is that?”

“Because he’s off duty,” she said as she pulled him closer. The distance that remained between them felt impossible to maintain, like a magnet fighting its charge. “And besides, if he says anything, I know how to handle him.”

She brought her arms back to her, her fingers brushing his chest as she did. Her fingertips lingered on his lapel as though she was debating on whether or not she wanted to grab him and pull him to her. Like she just wanted an excuse to touch him.

“Is that so?” Hunter murmured, as his eyes followed her hands. Normally, he was very particular about his uniform, worried it would get wrinkled or stained at the slightest altercation. But Willow’s hands were gentle. His own hand felt empty knowing this, ever since the day she had guided him down the hill he dreamt about taking her hand again. Something about being close to her put him under a spell, a spell he wanted desperately to prolong. It made him shy and bold at the same time. “How do you-.”

When he looked up to deliver his clever quip, he was taken back by Willow’s stance. Her hands were clasped behind her back as she leaned forward ever so slightly, her eyes closed and her lips slightly puckered. She looked so peaceful and content. She was waiting.

She was waiting for him.

As much as his daydreams had strayed to the thought, Hunter had never planned on kissing Willow, he had a million reasons not to: it was too soon, too unprofessional, he had no experience, he wasn’t sure how his breath smelled right now. The list went on and on, but even more than all that now, he had one wonderful reason to change his mind.

She was waiting for him.

In one motion somehow both swift and slow, he placed his hands on the sides of her face as he bent down to press his lips to hers. He felt like his heart was spinning and exploding and melting on a rapid loop. It was lightning and safety, serene and loud, it was everything and anything but so exceedingly simple. But mostly it was soft. When he went to pull away, she chased him and put her hands over his to keep him there longer. He had only intended to stay a moment, certain he’d pass out instantly, but she intended to make up for lost time.

When they parted, his forehead rested against hers as she looked at him with stars in her eyes as his remained closed, as though he didn’t know how to leave the moment. She smiled as the astounded look on his face told her absolutely everything.

She brought their hands down between them as she inclocked their fingers, trying not to erupt into a fit of giggles as she waited for him to say something.

“Uh,” he breathed as his senses returned one by one. First the smell of pine and cinnamon tickled his nose, then the sound of faint music echoing from the gym opened his eyes and the sight of her smiling at him made everything fall into place as he felt her warm hands in his. His breath was shaky but it was like a sigh of relief. “So, uh…”

He sniffled and Willow let out a small gasp as she saw he was trying not to cry. She knew it was from the nerves, from the rollercoaster of a night he had, but she couldn't help but think it was adorable. He shook it off and smiled at her, when suddenly something she said caught up with him.

“Wait, if you didn’t buy a ticket how were you gonna get in?”

“Oh, I was just gonna sneak in,” she shrugged, as she swung his hands and added in a silly voice. “Imma sneaky sneakster.”

“Willow, that’s against school policy!” he said firmly, snapping back to business. “That’s more than a write up!”

“Well then, I guess you’re gonna have to walk me to detention on Monday,” she said sweetly. “Because if we hurry, we can dance to the last song together and I refuse to believe you’re a bad dancer until I see it for myself.”

“I never said I was a bad dancer, “ he mumbled. “But in skates- how many rules do you intend on breaking tonight?”

“Well there’s one I’d like to break again soon,” she said faintly, moving closer again. Hunter felt himself being pulled again as well. “And I have an extended curfew tonight so-

“Curfew!” he said, his eyes widening in panic as he pulled back. “Oh Titan, I’m late for my curfew!”

“Wait, what?”

“I forgot to tell Darius I was staying so my Uncle has no idea where I am, but if I’m late I’m gonna be in so much trouble!” He was on the verge of a panic attack. Despite his urgency to leave, he only held her hands tighter. “And if he found out it wasn’t even to study, he’ll-.”

“Hey hey hey,” said Willow. “You’re not gonna be late.”

“What? I-oh! Did you bring your extra roller skates?”

“Well, I didn’t bring my bag and I didn’t think I’d be seeing you tonight anyway,” she said, delighted that he had no trouble believing in her this time. “But I have a way to get you there quick.”

“Well, how do you-woah!” In a valiant swoop, Willow hopped off her step and scooped Hunter in her arms bridal style. His arm fell instinctively behind her neck as she adjusted the hold, his face turning a bright red as she looked at him with determination.

“Just hold on tight,” she instructed as she began to move. Hunter obliged and placed his other hand on her shoulder as his cheek rested against her bicep. Her loose braids flew wildly behind her in the night air, blending in with the dark sky so it looked like stars resided in her hair. He held him close that he swore he could hear her heartbeat or if it was just his. A part of him hoped they would never arrive, that the sidewalk would expand and endlessly wind just for them.

If he arrived to detention like this, he’d break every rule in the book.

[tteii]

Uenoyama was such a character. It pains my heart whenever I reread the manga, and slowly realized that even though he was introduced as one of the main characters, he was just 'someone' to fix what Yuki broke when he left.

I fell in love with Ue in Given S1, the first few episodes. The temperamental guitarist. The kid who got obsessed with guitar, practice insane hours just to be able to play a cool rift. The Uenoyama before he knew about Yuki, before he crossed paths with Hiiragi. Just Uenoyama Ritsuka.

It's sad because despite having a very interesting character design, it's clear after reading the last volume, Ue, will always be Yuki's replacement.

Was it because his love was never selfish? The way he accepted Mafuyu's music in open arms. The way he healed Mafuyu from such a heartbreak, even helping Hiiragi and completed the music Yuki left for Mafuyu.

It hurts because it happened gradually. When I read the manga, I was hopeful. AkiHaru got their arc, which was my favorite. Akihiko was able to pursue his love: Haru, his violin and drums. Even Ugetsu got his closure.

But what about Ue? What about him doing his own music, his own stuff outside of Yuki's shadow? I didn’t realized he was going to be replacement permanently until I got to the last volume. Everyone had their own arc, everyone was able to heal the broken parts in them. Hiiragi got better treatment than him, the main character.

And then Uenoyama? He was just there to make things alright because apparently, he was the 'okay' one. The one who wasn't broken yet. It was so gradual, by the time I realized it was too late, there was nothing I could do but accept it. That was the sad part; accepting that my favorite character, one of the MC, was just a fucking replacement.

Seeing the spoilers for Given sequel, I'm still a clown and hope that somehow, Kizu will remember that Ue is his own character. But like before, pretty sure I'll be disappointed.

The spoilers showed that even after 10 years, Ue was still playing a support in Yuki's band. You know the worse part is? If you remove Ue and bring back Yuki in his place, nothing would change because Uenoyama Ritsuka was written as if Yuki was still alive but just in different body. Every fucking thing was for Yuki's traces not to fade. For Yuki's memory to always be there. For Yuki, and none for Ue.

[constelationprize]

would love to know more about Stuart and wip #4 <3

I have so many thoughts about Stuart it's not even funny. I remember always being a bit fascinated with him in my original read of AFTG in 2019 because he is, and I say this with all the love in my heart, kind of an Uncle Ex Machina. And this year when I came back and did my reread (re-listen?) of the books that fascinaiton returned tenfolds.

The thing about Stuart that keeps getting me is that his original revenge plan against Nathan was insane. And the way that he went about it was even worse. Like, here is the list of steps he went through: 1) Found out Kengo was diyng, calculated that he could deal a blow to Nathan as long as it doesn't piss off the Moriyamas too much 2) Allied himself with the FBI, a foreign government agency, despite being himself the head of a criminal syndicate, even though that could have very easily gotten him branded as a narc 3) Planned to wait until Nathan was released, invade his house while he was killing someone, massacre his inner circle, and probably deliver a dramatic speech as he beat up Nathan and left him for the FBI to find 4) Upon getting to point 3, found his nephew being tortured, confirmed his sister was dead, and promptly changed his plans to kill Nathan on the spot 5) Has now broken his deal with the FBI and permanently removed a Moriyama asset instead of just incapacitating him 6) Left his recently-tortured 19yo nephew to sort things out with the FBI and dipped back to England fully expecting to be executed by Ichirou 7) Somehow managed to talk himself out of this and not only stay alive but become an asset to a syndicate bigger and more powerful than his 8) Profit.

That is insane. He cannot keep getting away with this. How can a man with three appearences have this much chaos going on.

So this WIP is mostly an character study, following Stuart as he grieves Mary and tries to adjust to the changes being part of the Moriyamas bring. It is also about him trying to find out how far he can Manipulate Manspain Manwhore out of situations.

Reason number two behind this WIP was that I was actually surprised to find out that this entire fandom was sleeping on Ichirou/Stuart. They have like 19 tagged fics! That is a crime! Have we lost all respect for toxic yaoi?

I really like playing with foils and parallels and contrasts and in the process of plotting this fic I found a lot of them in the Stuart and Ichirou dynamic. For one, they do have a pretty big age gap (14 years in this fic), but while Stuart has all the experience, it's Ichirou who has all the power in their relantionship. Ichirou who has inherited an empire but is stuck in his father's shadow and Stuart who has an established reputation but lost all his autonomy. Stuart who risked everything to avenge his sisters and Ichirou who killed his brother.

Also, I have a pretty strict Death of the Author stance and thus don't consider Nora's tweets or the EC canon, but I do find the fact she said that eventually Ichirou gets Stuart killed in a suicide mission so he can get a younger head on the Hatford branch (and that Stuart knew that it was going to happen eventually and was fine with it) very intriguing. They are two very ruthless, manipulative people, and I want to play with them like barbie dolls.

[checkoutmybookshelf]

Rereading The Fellowship of the Ring for the First Time in Fifteen Years

Holy Foreshadowing, Batman! Gandalf is SUPER psyched to get his ass under a mountain, but literally Gimli and Aragorn are like, "Nah, bro, we are worried about YOU SPECIFICALLY if we do that." And this is after Mom and Dad fought about going up Caradhras and after literally everyone is like, "We are getting super bad vibes from Moria."

But they can't go over the mountains, they can't go around the mountains, and the Gap of Rohan is too close to Isengard, so fuck it, we ball in Moria, I guess. Let's talk chapter 4, "A Journey in the Dark."

Ok, so this is a relatively long chapter (30-odd pages by my math), but wow is it mostly vibes. We start off very defeated by the anti-wizard-and-elf mountain, which makes sense because if you lose the ring bearer to exposure in the first month of travel, you're going down in history as the dingus who lost the last great conflict with Sauron. Again, Boromir is DEEPLY underappreciated as the reason our hobbits survived Caradhras.

After a few pages of back-and-forthing about where to go next, Gandalf is over here pushing Moria HARD, and literally everyone is like, "This does not pass the vibe check, wizard boy." Although Gimli is like, "I could find out what happened to Balin" and Aragorn literally says THIS:

"You followed my lead almost to disaster in the snow and have said no word of blame. I will follow your lead now..."

Because apparently Fellowship leadership operates on phlebotomist rules. If you miss the vein, you let someone else take a shot.

Ultimately, the decision is made because there are goddamn WARGS after the group, and even Boromir accedes that wolves literally on your tail are worse than hypothetical wolves up the road, so we stop arguing about it and hunker down. This gives us time to have a nice little moment with Sam and Pippin though. Poor Pippin is over here like, "I wish I had taken Elrond's advice [...], I am no good after all. [...] I don't remember ever feeling so wretched, " but Sam is coming in clutch with "Honestly same, but Gandalf isn't going to let us get eaten by wolves." Which like...yeah, I accept that, and it's way more comforting than a generic "there, there." I also appreciate that Sam admits he's scared too. It's like how hearing, "Oh god, I haven't started that either" is so comforting for stressed-out students.

What neither I nor the fellowship love though, is the wolves literally sniffing around their campfire that night. There are literally glowing eyes in the dark, howls on the wind, and a goddamn warg silhouette in the gap between stones. And an arrow through the throat of one warg buys the group some measure of peace until the moon sets. Once the moon sets though, we get a pre-dawn warg attack:

In the leaping light as the fresh wood blazed up, Frodo saw many grey shapes spring over the ring of stones. More and more followed. Through the throat of one huge leader Aragorn passed his sword with a thrust; with a great sweep Boromir hewed the head off another. Gimli stood with his stout legs apart, wielding his dwarf-axe. The bow of Legolas was singing.

The battle scenes in these books read SUPER Beowulf, but are somehow briefer. Tolkien was super not here for contemporary battle scene writing; it's very much painting with watercolors. He gives you the odd detail or two and you pretty much get to fill in the rest yourself. Which is fine, and holy cow can I see where that would inspire Robert Jordan's manner of naming sword forms rather than describing an actual duel (which is not shade, I think Jordan does that really damn well and to excellent effect). But then we get Gandalf doing wizardy things in a really...unusual way?

In the wavering firelight Gandalf seemed suddenly to grow: he rose up, a great menacing shape like the monument of some ancient king of stone set upon a hill. Stooping like a cloud, he lifted a burning branch and strode to meet the wolves. They gave back before him. High in the air he tossed the burning brand, It flared with a sudden white radiance like lightning; and his voice rolled like thunder.

This hearkens back both to "Gandalf the fireworks wizard" who we meet in the Shire, but also to the little moment in Bag End where Gandalf goes wizard on Bilbo to snap him out of his Ring moment. It also is not like...wildly dissimilar to how they teach you to scare bears off in the wild: Get big and loud and look intimidating. We were not supposed to then set a goddamn forest fire--that's a little scorched earth for Alaskan survival techniques--but it was one of those moments where the familiar was made pointedly exotic, and I actually thought it was quiet effective. You take the foundation of something real and then you add a bit of wizard to it. Then things feel sufficiently grounded, but also with just that extra bit of wizard to heighten EVERYTHING. The subtlety (and yeah, I know, forest fire and lightning isn't subtle, but the way this is written is and how it functions is) is really quite impressive. That said...Gandalf, honey. Maybe not with the ecological disasters???

At the very least, the wargs were polite enough to evaporate so they didn't have to deal with any of the bodies when the sun came up.

After that, we haul ass off to the Doors of Durin. It's not a good journey though. Right from the start, the Sirannon wasn't where it was supposed to be, the landscape is lifeless and desolate, and when we do finally find the stream, it's a freaking trickle. If the IDEA of Moria didn't pass the vibe check, then the landscape on the trip in is a parade of red flags. And again, Boromir is SUPER ON POINT with not wanting to get caught between a stone wall and a bunch of wolves. This place is all quiet unease and red flags. Even the freaking WATER is gloomy and unwholesome-looking.

And then we get a WEIRD FLEX moment for Gandalf:

"I am sorry," said Gandalf. "Poor Bill has been a useful companion, and it goes to my heart to turn him adrift now. I would have travelled lighter and brought no animal, least of all this one that Sam is fond of, if I had had my way. I feared all along that we should be obliged to take this road."

Like, I believe he's genuinely sorry to have to hurt Sam and to turn the goodest pony loose. But it's the "if I had had my way" and the last sentence where I'm just like...Gandalf. Sir. Why are you bitching to Frodo that you have to share leadership on this mission? And why are you flexing an "I told you so" on Frodo instead of, IDK, Aragorn??? Is it because Aragorn would kick your wizened wizard ass for it? Because I'd watch that.

Also, again with Gandalf being weirdly open with, aware of, and as solicitous as possible to Sam. He has zero problems kicking Pippin when he's down (as we'll see in a bit in this very goddamn chapter), but he's always been very straight yet compassionate with Sam in a way that doesn't even match how this wizard treats Frodo. Like, we are almost getting to a point where I need to go see what the Tolkien scholars have written about the Sam-Gandalf relationship, because it's getting NOTICEABLY unique and it has gotten a fair number of little moments at this point. Like...what is this relationship and why is this the dynamic? I demand to know.

I also just want to take a second to highlight something DEEPLY inequitable as they round the lake to the door:

When they came to the northernmost corner of the lake they found a narrow creek that barred their way. It was green and stagnant, thrust out like a slimy arm toward the enclosing hills. Gimli strode forward undeterred, and found that the water was shallow, no more than ankle-deep at the edge. Behind him they walked in fie, threading their way with care, for under the weedy pools were sliding and greasy stones, and footing was treacherous. Frodo shuddered with disgust at the touch of the dark unclean water on his feet.

THE HOBBITS DONT WEAR SHOES. Everyone else has boots to act as something of a barrier to this gross-ass water, but the hobbits have to tromp through it BAREFOOT. Did NOBODY think, "oh shit, this will be super unpleasant for the hobbits, maybe we should yeet or carry them?" Apparently not, and honestly now they're just gonna have gross feet as they tromp through Moria and I hate that for their poor hobbit toesies. And as a WWI soldier, TOLKIEN SHOULD KNOW THE DANGERS OF WET, MUCKETY FEET.

But then we actually get to the doors--finally--and Sam has a deeply understandable moment when Gandalf tells him they have to cut Bill loose, and Gimli and Legolas try to start world war 2.5 over Elf-Dwarf relations before Gandalf tells them to knock that shit off.

Everyone is super over everything at this point, and I cannot blame them.

But where Gandalf has zero time for Legolas and Gimli sniping at each other, he takes the time to speak over Bill and give him his best shot at getting home safely. Again, I do not get the relationship between Gandalf and Sam. I appreciate the care for the pony, but whatever the Gandalf-Sam thing is, it's more than just trolling Pippin or ensuring that Frodo makes it to the volcano or ignoring Merry's existence for the most part.

Literally, Pippin gets a "Knock on the door with your head" from Gandalf, and once the damn thing IS open, Merry just gets a casual, "Merry, of all people, was on the right track" before Gandalf pulls ANOTHER weird flex and says "Too simple for a learned lore-master in these suspicious days." Like...ok, sure, Gandalf. You were TOO SMART to get the riddle.

But we get the doors open just in time for Frodo to get nabbed by a metric frick-ton of tentacles. Sam yoinks him back and they haul ass through the door, which get slammed behind them and the tentacle monster bolts it behind them with boulders and trees. After which we get THIS little gem from Gandalf:

"I fear from the sounds that boulders have been piled up and trees uprooted and thrown across the gate. I am sorry; for the trees were beautiful, and had stood so long."

SIR. I was THERE when you burned a flaming doughnut into the land to get rid of the wargs. You are a walking ecological disaster and do not get to high ground the tentacle monster ripping up a few trees by the roots. You probably burned more LAST NIGHT. I know it's unfair to expect characters to know the genre of the book they're in, and by extension its equally unfair to expect them to know the themes of the book they're in. That said though...I WATCHED YOU START A FOREST FIRE, GANDALF. This is not the moment to suddenly discover ecocriticism.

At any rate, we have FINALLY made it inside Moria. Boromir is (rightfully) quite pissed off an apprehensive about this, but Gandalf is like, "Gimli and I will lead the way!" before they manage to get the party fucking lost and Sam is bitching about not having rope. Because oh my god there is SO MUCH atmospheric walking in this book. And most of the time the atmosphere is "vaguely evil with a healthy helping of depression." Which...yeah, that's what we get here.

So it makes sense that Gandalf is SUPER FUCKING OVER IT when Pippin yeets a rock down a well and they hear hammer blows from the deeps. And it makes even more sense when Gandalf realizes he's apparently also experiencing withdrawal symptoms because he hasn't had a smoke since before they started climbing Caradhras. So he non-apologizes to Pippin, lights up, and everything looks better in the morning...sort of. At least the wizard is less grumpy, and he has now firmly established himself as that member of the party who needs to be properly self-cared or he will make it EVERYONE ELSE'S PROBLEM. Seriously, what a goddamn diva.

But getting himself a wee bit of a smoke made it so he could make a decision and they headed up to where the air smelled good. So fair enough.

Then we have EVEN MORE atmospheric walking, and Sam picks up some dwarven lore via Gimli singing a song all about Moria and Khazad-dum, and I swear, the hobbit is going to be a lore-master himself by the end of this journey.

This chapter is also where we get a bit of a mithril infodump, which is pretty cool just in general. We also get Frodo having delayed sticker-shock because he's just casually waltzing around with a whole-ass shirt of mithril on. That's also a nice little reminder to all the readers that hey, remember that Frodo has this thing? I betcha it's going to be important soon.

We end the chapter on the SUPER downer note of finding Balin's tomb, and the dwarves now have their (not unexpected) answer to what happened to the party from thirty-odd years ago. Which is really sad, frankly.

That's also about where we're going to leave this chapter, because I am...exhausted by all the atmospheric walking. We will pick up next time with a relatively short chapter, and hopefully there is more to it than infodumping and atmospheric walking.