#i want people to ask me about my writing and show genuine interest outside of just clicking a single button

[always-andromeda]

Controversial take. But based on my experiences, out of every fandom I’ve written for, the TLOU fandom is the absolute BEST about actually reblogging fics. 🤷🏻‍♀️

[konpeitonom]

can u do curly jealousy hdcs >_< i love your works btwwww

jealousy headcanons for captain grant curly.

sfw — lowercase intended ^_^

fem reader —

requests are open and heavily encouraged, i write for every mw character ^.^

notes; thank u that’s very sweet. i’m happy people are enjoying my writing, as i’ve not written fics since i was maybe 13..

scenario is you work with him.. but this is not on the tulpar, maybe pre space travel preparation activities. and ur friends outside of work of course:) not proofread as alwayysss.. hope u like it anon it’s extra short..

— curly is the kind of guy who .. does not get jealous easily. he feels safe and secure in your relationship, so he doesn’t have much of a reason too! jealously is a feeling that is like, ‘i envy what they have’ .. but he already has you.

— if he does get jealous while you’re dating, he wouldn’t tell you. he’d feel too bad. but he would have a conversation like “i don’t really like when __ does __…”

— he’d get a bit clingy touch wise. like after whatever event went on, and you’re alone together, he’d coddle you just a bit to remind you that he’s there! pay attention to him!

— but pre-dating is a bit of a different story! he likes that you have male friends. but just not too much, you know? he doesn’t want any competition, because then he’ll feel as if he’s already lost

— he can get a bit heated when it’s a guy he has no relation with. like if it’s jimmy, he knows jimmy could never do something like that (lol) but some random guy? that he can’t justify the actions of? it gets him upset..

— would use his authority a little to make sure you don’t work with guys he doesn’t know well. or guys that are kinda known to hit on the other girls. subconsciously he does this.

— like if another guy is helping you out he’ll place his hand on his shoulder nicely like, “no need for that. i’ll show her instead, get back to work.”

— “just ask me next time, okay?”

— his jealousy is not angry, it is more.. i’m so sad, i feel so guilty. i'm so, so horrible, i don’t own her in anyway so why? kind of jealous. haha

— it causes him to spiral a bit, i won’t lie.. even more so if you’re apparent in your interest in him. like are you like that with every guy or are you genuinely interested?

— vents to jimmy about it and he’s just like. okay bud, first world problems. just tell her you like her. and is alll bitter about it.

[orphicrose]

The co-host (Alastor x FemReader) V

< >

Summary: You are Alastors Co host in life, perhaps more. But are separated by a sudden death. When you are finally reunited in the under world, it is up to Alastor to figure out why you don’t remember him.

@cannibalcoyote @kahlan170 @sugxryratz

_______________𖤐

It seemed like the broadcasts had ended their torment over the pentagram. Remaining completely silent for almost a week now. Y/n had noticed this too, thinking that maybe he was being genuine. They had kept their meetups public, for her safety and peace of mind. Mainly at coffee shops around her warehouse. They adventured a little further today, to cannibal town. Only agreeing because it was nearby to a place she had to meet her boss that day. 

"So, your boss is quite a well known sin?" He asked, lifting his dark coffee to his lips and bowing the steam off the surface. She nodded, sipping at hers. "How did that come about?" 

She shrugged in return "Guess I accidentally sold my soul" She said, sarcasm clawing at her tone. He hummed, unsatisfied with his answer. "Do you like your job?" He was grasping at straws now. The question tickled her, unable to contain her laughter. 

"Do i come across as a particularly content individual?" She chuckled. Wiping an invisible tear from her eye. "I work against my will. If it was up to me I'd... I don't know, write. Or broadcast the news." He saw a light in her, like the light he saw all those years ago. She is still in there. 

She looked down at her watch, gasping and standing abruptly. His ears twitched as the chair screeched backwards against the concrete., and looked at her waiting for an answer to the deviant behavior. "I was supposed to meet him at the abandoned office block in five minutes" She struggles to put her coat on, one of the arms of it being inside out. He watched her struggle, amused, leaning on his hands. "What you looking at?" she huffs. 

"Need a little assistance?" 

"I can put a coat on!" She bites back. He shrugs, clicking his fingers and dragging both of them into their shadows on the ground. Reappearing outside the abandoned building. "I could have done that" Y/n rolls her eyes, shoving the rest of her arm into the sleeve. 

"I'm aware, but I want to see this oh so powerful being" He adjusted the tie atop his ironed suit. "How do I look?"

She turns to look at him, stress showing in the veins on their forehead. "You're not coming to a meeting with me. If you want me to trust you, leave. Please" Her face softened to a more desperate pleading expression. Making him submissive to her, and agreeing. "I will wait out here for you, darling" He smiled, receiving a smile back as she begins moving towards the door with nothing more to say. 

Satan enjoyed quieter areas, giving him more space to think. Less people to deal with was an ideal world for him. He went to seat himself on an old chair, before it gave out. Nearly ending with him on the floor. Glad no one was there to see that, he dusted himself off and resorted to leaning on his staff instead. The door creaked open before him, dust circulating the room like air flow.

"You're on time. Interesting..." His voice rumbled through the room, stirring old dirt, making the ceiling drop old paint onto the floor. She shut the door behind her, not moving an inch towards him. "Your numbers dropped for a while. I see they are being picked back up. You may have just saved your soul"

"What soul" She mumbled under her breath "What?" "Nothing!"

He stood up straight, adjusting his posture, and striding towards the demon. "Don't let it happen again" His presence hovered above her, eyes scared to be taken off his. "I can't replace you as easily as every other soul, but that doesn't mean that i won't" A hand fell to her chin, his calloused fingers pulling at her face to move closer to him.

Just outside the room stood Alastor. Listening in, It might be important, he thought. 

"Don't let me down, or I'll remind you of all the reasons of why you wiped your own memory" His lips spoke next to her ear, finishing his sentence with a hollow laugh. "I will be back in a month" and with that, his body melted away to the bone until there was nothing left. He had left her in the discomfort of her own skin, alone, almost fragile. She felt as if she could follow him into the ground and flow away forever. But that wasn't the case. Whatever she had forgotten was obviously bad, since she erased her own memory. So the last thing she wanted was to be haunted by them all over again. 

Alastor, on the other side of the wall, struggled to maintain a smile. Wide eyes like he had been stabbed in the back multiple times. She erased her own memory? Of him? Perhaps she found out what he was and couldn't bare the thought of seeing him again. His heart ached. 

"Alastor" A startled voice came from the door frame "I thought you said you'd stay outside" Y/n sounded almost angry, too exhausted to portray any emotion other than fatigue. He stared at her blanky, still showing a face of hurt. His smile wanting to drop, but looking at if there was rope physically holding it up. 

"I'm... sorry" He mumbled, static dropping from his voice completely. "I will see you some other time."

He vanished. Leaving her, once again, alone. Truly alone this time. "Alastor?" Y/n questioned. Genuinely calling out for him. What did he hear that upset him that much. He looked hurt. She never thought she'd see that emotion in his eyes before. 

Days passed, no site of him. She had seen him everyday for weeks now. A few days, she even stayed out late in sketchy alley ways. Hoping he might show to scare her. She missed him, but she wouldn't admit it. She even thought she saw him in the corner of her eye on countless occasions. Some part of her was screaming to trust him, and the overlord in her was telling her to keep a look out. 

He will show up eventually, she thought, he's just busy with cannibal stuff. 

In a glaring radio tower on the other side of the pentagram, Alastor stared at the rotting city below him. Feet kicked up on the sound board in front of him, a coffee in his hands, pondering. He convinced himself that he should stay away, but he missed y/n oh so much. It was difficult. He had sent his shadow to watch over her, make sure no one was giving her any grief. 

"So, is this your murder chamber?" That familiar voice came from behind him, sounding very concerned. He almost spun off his chair, whipping his head to see her. 

"How did you find me?"

"I wish i could say it was my amazing detective skills, but i had help" She shrugged, looking at the moving shadow that was connected at his feet once more, giving his owner a sheepish grin. Alastor tutted, shaking his head. "I wanted to know why you ran away? I haven't seen you in days"

He bit his tongue, struggling to think of the right thing to say.

"My apologies, Miss l/n" He started off.  "I have very conflicted feelings, i suppose. I guess you could say that... I'm worried that who I was in life scared off someone very dear to me." He tried to laugh, but it turned into more of a whimper of distress. 

She stood awkwardly with hands behind their back for a second, but as he spoke, y/n found themselves moving closer to him. Looking at him with sad eyes. "Did something I say-"

"I just had a moment, darling, I'm fine." He cut her off, exaggerating his smile to sway her questions. He turned in his seat, facing the large window overlooking hell. 

"If they truly loved you..." Y/n moved closer, standing just behind his seat. "I'm sure they could get over it. No one is perfect" her hand creeped onto his shoulder, sharing the same view with him. 

"You think so?" His heart dropped for a second, as if she was confessing her love for him. He could only dream that was the case. 

"I do"

"Thank you, Y/n"

[star-crifice]

James Diamond x Reader

Words: ~ 3160

A/N: My 10 year old self must've taken over me and ghostwritten this bc why the hell am I, a 19 year old, writing BTR fanfiction AND it's the best stuff I've written in months. God. Have fun. I'm so done over here.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

James has got a thing for you.

And that’s not a secret, not even to you. When he likes someone, he pursues them – that’s nothing new. The very moment you stepped into the Palmwoods, retrieving your key and James just so happened to walk into the lobby, the word “Dibs!” left his lips so fast, his friends didn’t even have a chance to lay eyes on you.

He wasn’t afraid to show you his interest, just like he was with every other person that appealed to him. But the difference with you was that every sweet word from him was laced with the tiniest bit of hesitation.

Just after a few days of getting to know you, the sheer thought of being rejected by you would have ruined him. One part of him wanted to share every sweet thought about you that ever crossed his mind, another part of him was – possibly for the first time – genuinely scared of your reaction.

His advances at you didn’t go unnoticed. At first, you felt flattered at such a good looking, charming guy flirting with you. Though it did feel a bit overwhelming, you barely knew him after all. You thought if he actually liked you like that, he would wait a bit. He’d be ready to get to know you more. But that wasn’t quite the case, at least how it appeared to you.

You got to know the boys of Big Time Rush along with the friends they made in the Palmwoods and spent a lot of time with them. However, James would always try to get close to you – it felt suffocating. You didn’t have the heart to reject him and tried to instead gently push him away, both literally and metaphorically.

James didn’t quite get it, thinking you aren’t into him yet and he would have to try harder. But after a while it felt simply pointless to him and he stopped. He went back to his usual self, flirting with any pretty girl willing to pay attention to him. It was obvious that he did this to distract himself from you, but if anyone would have asked him he’d insist that he’s over you – what a lie. At that point he was head over heels.

Desperation coated his aimless flirts, reaching for the attention he craved from you.

At this point James and you were good friends, having known each other for a bit longer. You finally felt like you knew him and he might know you.

It happened quite overnight – no, actually. Faster than that. He was only a friend, you swear. But that one friday night… A power outage. A few people from the Palmwoods sat outside beside the pool, surrounding a campfire. That and the countless candles being the only sources of light shimmering on your skin. A guitar went around, person after person sharing their musical talent waiting for the electricity to come back. Of course, it didn’t take long until it was James and his friends' turn. You were swaying back and forth, humming along with the tune of their song and basking in the heat of the fire. It was a very cozy moment and for the first time since arriving at the Palmwoods, you felt like you were surrounded by normal teens instead of aspiring stars. You’ve never felt closer to your friends, neighbors and even the people you’ve never talked to. You dared to look over at the boys singing, just a moment. But that very second you laid your eyes on James, something clicked in your mind. You’ve seen him countless times, always looking perfect, keeping himself in check. Though in that moment, the way he sat there – his hair disheveled from being in the pool, wearing his still slightly wet swimming trunks and a loose shirt, singing and swaying and having fun – something sparked in you.

And suddenly you missed when he shifted to sit just a bit closer to you, kept eye contact like his life depended on it and would put his hand on your shoulder, so tender and carefully as if he could scare you away. You took it for granted back then. That was quite literally how you got to know him and now that part is basically gone.

That “moment” you looked at him happened to turn into a full on stare. Not too obvious of course, but embarrassing enough that when his gaze caught yours, you turned your head faster than you even processed what just happened.

You’d like to slap yourself for the train of thought that just occupied your mind. Yes, James was nice and lovely and good looking and charming and whatever – but to you he also seemed like he never took it seriously.

To you, he tried to wrap you around his finger until he realized that you aren’t that easy to swoon.

To you, it seemed like he got bored of you and flirted with the next girl, until he got bored of her and flirted with the next. Again and again.

To you he was just a heartthrob, simple as that.

To him, you were an unattainable star he could only wish for.

Therefore, only a friendship blossomed between the two of you.

A while has passed since that night of realization and to be honest, you kept struggling to look at James the same. He shined a bit brighter in your life and that made you mad. There was no way you could ever have something serious with him, you told yourself. Just yesterday you saw him in the park with his arm around a pretty black haired girl.

Though the truth is, her eyes reminded James of yours. And he ghosted her by the end of the day because her laughter sounded off beat and sour compared to yours. He kept asking himself if you laugh at other peoples jokes like you do at his – if you ever gifted that smile, that one special smile he only saw a couple of times, to anyone but him. He hoped you didn’t.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

James, Carlos, Logan and Kendall were at the studio, recording a song like so often. As usual they were having fun, making jokes, pissing off Gustavo until James fell silent.

“Everything alright?” Logan asked after he took note of James' sudden change in behavior.

“My mother will come this evening,” he says rather quietly, shocked at himself for forgetting this.

“That’s good though, isn’t it? As long as she doesn’t want to take you back to Minnesota.” Kendall shrugs.

Of course that’s good. James is glad that he might build a normal mother-son relationship despite the long distance, now that his mother agreed to come visit him more often. However, there is one tiny little issue…

“I told her I have a girlfriend,” James admits.

“But you don’t..?” Carlos raises an eyebrow, “When was the last time you’ve had an actual girlfriend?”

“THATS-” James says loudly before cutting himself off, “Don’t say it like that.”

He takes a deep breath, thinking about how to handle this situation. A while ago his mother called, in true motherly fashion she obviously had to know about her son's love life. He might have been too prideful, and amidst his pride a bit delusional; he didn’t want to admit that for the first time in a while, he was hopelessly in love with someone. So he lied.

Of course he had a girlfriend. She’s lovely and special, not like any of the girls he brought home that his mother never approved of.

The band wasted no time, finishing work in record speed, rushing out of the studio so fast, not even Gustavo's angry shouts reached them. They were going to find a “girlfriend” for James for this evening, no matter what it takes.

They reached the Palmwoods, scanning the lobby like they were on a hunt.

“Any preferences or just anyone? Look at that blonde over there, she’s pretty!” Carlos pointed across the room.

“Oh no she knows me,” James shook his head.

“We need someone we can trust to play along and lie. And she has to lie well, you know James’ mom.” Logan thought out loud.

Just in the right moment, you came out of the elevator, walking across the lobby.

“Her!” Kendall, Logan and Carlos shouted in unison. You stopped in your tracks, hesitantly pointing to yourself with a questioning expression, “Me?”

James stared at you with wide eyes. Of course you’d be the perfect fit. You know him, join his shenanigans regularly, aren’t too bad at lying and surely wouldn’t get your hopes up like others might. Though his heart aches a bit at the thought. He doesn’t admit it to himself, but he still likes you just a bit too much for his liking. Maybe he’d be the one to falsely get his hopes up after acting out a relationship for a whole evening. Going back to friends after his mother leaves might hurt a little too much. Is he ready to take that risk?

“We need you to be James' girlfriend!” Kendall said loudly, rushing over to you along with Carlos and Logan.

“What? Huh?” You’re surprised to say the least. Was that a confession? A joke? The boys explained the situation to you – a bit fast and all over the place, but good enough. By the end of it, James finally walked over to the four of you, his expression being a mix of embarrassment, panic and hope.

“Could you do that? Pleeeease? For us?” Kendall said, joined by Carlos: “We’ll make it up to you, pinky promise!”, as Logan nodded profusely.

“I guess, yeah. We can do that.” You nodded slowly, looking over at James. The tension in his shoulders was gone, he could breathe for a moment.

Together, you went up into the band’s apartment, being greeted by Kendall’s mom. She already started the dinner and immediately you joined her and helped prepare the meal and table. With now 5 more people by Ms. Knights side, it took significantly less time to get everything ready.

“James, can you pass me the plates?” You asked the boy, he looked at you for a moment, appearing like a deer in headlights, before bringing you the stack of plates. You smiled at him, nodding as a thanks and put the plates down around the table.

The both of you haven’t been this close in a while and on top of that, didn’t feel this awkward around each other in a while. About half an hour until James' mother arrives at the Palmwoods, the food was simmering on the stove and the table looked like straight out of a five star restaurant, adorned with flowers and folded napkins.

You joined James on the sofa, letting yourself fall against the soft cushions in hopes of it releasing the tension building up inside of you. In just 28 minutes you’d have to act like the girlfriend of the boy you’ve had a very complicated almost-crush on (that you had yet to admit to yourself).

“You’re stupid, you know that?”, you said with a slight laugh in your voice. James turned to you, slouched back into the sofa with his arms crossed. Up until then, he looked serious and deep in thought. Now he’s raising an eyebrow and fighting a smile.

“For lying to my mom?”

“For lying to your mom,” you said, slowly subconsciously mimicking his pose. You looked at him a bit longer, trying to figure out what he thought at the moment.

“It’s gonna work out, yeah? I’ll try my best. I’ll be so all over you, your mom would think we're about to get married or something,” you tried to joke to lighten the mood, slightly nudging his knee with yours. A long sigh escaped his lips and finally, a smile appeared.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“So you’re the lucky girl?” Ms. Diamond says in an unreadable voice. James just picked her up at the entrance of the Palmwoods, guiding her up into the apartment where everyone else was waiting patiently. She walked through the door, radiating willpower, sternness and a bit of sass.

Now she’s standing in front of you, reaching out her hand for you to shake and looking you up and down, before glancing towards James, raising her eyebrows so quick you almost didn’t see it. You follow her gaze over to her son, widening your eyes a bit, hoping he gets the message that you're ‘struggling over here!!!!’

He quickly comes over, resting his hand on your back. You see his mother noticing the gesture and lean a bit into James' touch, just as the cherry on top.

The both of you guide Ms. Diamond over to the table and you rush to help Ms. Knight with the pots and pans, bringing them over to the table. As everything’s ready and you want to sit down, James quickly gets up from his seat beside you and pulls out the chair for you in true gentleman's fashion. He gestures to you to sit and you do as he says, before he pushes your chair to the table.

Accidentally, as he sits down, his knee touches yours, but he doesn’t pull away. Neither do you. You keep telling yourself it’s just for show.

Everyone starts chatting – especially the two mothers of the table that desperately need to catch up – and filling their plates up. You do as everyone else, though quietly. You’re so unbelievably focused on James (obviously for the sake of the lie) that you’re not sure what to say.

“So,” Ms. Diamond says, her voice effortlessly louder than the others, “How did you two sweethearts meet?”James and you look at each other. Shit. You didn’t plan anything like that.

“Uhm..” You start, stalling a bit to figure out a good story.

“Right here, at the Palmwood,” James says confidently after a moment, “She walked in and I saw her and I said ‘wow!’”

“Actually, he said ‘DIBS!’,” Carlos says with a full mouth, earning a light punch from Katie.

“I got to know the boys and he didn’t move from my side,” you add to James’ retelling.

“It just kind of happened. We became friends and slowly… more,” he looks at you and you have to fight to keep a smile on while hearing his corny words. You nod, looking at your food to not let the mask slip.

James' mother asks you more and more and you feel like you can’t put an end to it. Every now and then James would get a bit closer, say something sweet to you or simply wink. You felt like when you arrived at the Palmwoods. But you let it happen, for the sake of fooling his mother. And maybe you enjoyed it a bit. Just a tiny little bit.

But the thought that all this is just fake and quite literally the result of the fact he doesn’t take relationships seriously, makes you want to push him away again.

Gently just like the way he slowly grabs your hand right now.

Tenderly like the way he lets his thumb glide up and down over the ridges of your knuckles.

You want to push him away, just not too far. So he’ll be gone for now but might come back later.

Maybe you just want to push him to lay your hands on him just once, but there are better ways to do that, aren't there?

So you let it happen, basking in his adoration for once. Enjoying it a bit too much for your liking.

After about an hour of dinner and chit-chat, Ms. Diamond excuses herself and her son to go on a little mother-son-walk through the park. You bid goodbye to her, reciprocating her firm handshake as a good last impression.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You finish washing the dishes before James comes back from the walk. Neverending questions about what his mother thinks of you plague your mind, but you're not sure why. The show is over after all.

Finally back in your own apartment, you pace back and forth, replaying the events of today again and again in your head. It’s already a bit dark out when you almost overhear someone knocking on the door from how filled your mind is. You rush over, not even looking through the peephole before opening the door.

Of course, James is there. Alone and calm, no smile or even flirtatious smirk adorning his face.

“Hi,” you say, curious about what he wants.

“Hey.” He lays his hand on the door, pushing slightly, letting himself in. It’s dark in your apartment, aside from a small warm lamp on a table beside the couch, illuminating the both of you just enough, casting an orange glow on his face like that night at the campfire.

Oh and how you wish that feeling in your stomach – just like that night at the campfire – would leave.

You take a few steps back, standing awkwardly in your living room, letting him come in.

“How did it go? The walk with you mom,” you ask quietly. He nods, collecting his words and looking into the lamp.

“Good. She liked it. She liked you, I think.”

“What did she say?” you ask, now even more curious. She liked you.

“You seem like a sweet person. She’s used to other types of girls from me. She thinks you’d be good for me.” He laughs a bit at the end.

You fidget with your hands, not sure what to say. Usually he’s more cheery and talkative, finding topics for conversations, even if he just wants to talk about himself.

“So… friends, right?”, you say, even more quietly.

A smile forms on his lips, barely visible, “I don’t know. Do you like me? Because I like you.”

“I know you do. You like a lot of people though, so what’s it worth?”

His smile drops.

“If you’re not going to give me a chance, then at least a kiss to get over you?”

He steps closer, you stay put.

“You’re just trying to swoon me,” you say, trying to be stern but hearing that sentence out of your own mouth makes you smile a bit. He comes closer again and you want to step back, but looking at him makes you remember all the times he made your heart flutter. You think of all the times you looked at him and thought to yourself, if he kissed you now, you’d be his. You feel his warmth now, he leans in.

And you let it happen. And you kiss back. Gently. Tenderly. Slow.

One kiss, he said. But not how long it will last.

Eventually, you pull back, looking down.

“Are you over me now?” you ask, not sure what answer you’re hoping for.

“Are you kidding?” he laughs.

“So… this is serious, then?” you ask hesitantly.

He nods.

[literatureloverx]

To frame this analysis, I want to first point out a letter written by fyodor. For a letter most don't have access to, it puts into perspective a LOT about fyodor's character that was previously only speculated through analysis. It was given out during the manga's 10 year anniversary, you can search it up by typing 'fyodor letter bsd'.

But I will copy it here: "I have nothing to say. There is no one who supported me anyway. That's why there is no word I have to say. To anyone at all. Let alone words of celebration. It is impossible. I have always been alone. And that is fine by me. Has been, and always will be. Well... I felt a little less bored when I was playing chess with Dazai-kun. But that's it."

Now this points out something especially interesting, that out of all the people that served him, all the people who worshipped him through his manipulation, for hundreds and hundreds of his years of living, Fyodor found no substance through any of it. Fyodor is lonely, inevitably lonely not only because he has never let anyone into his mind (and uh. Not many people want to hang out with the guy who straps bombs onto kids), but because near nobody can understand him because, as pretentious as it sounds, he lives in a realm of "genius".

Fyodor lives in a world of sin that he sees himself as above, and wishes to find the book and write a "correct" world under God where there is no sin. And he also lives in a world he is bored of because nobody can challenge him. He explicitly uses the word "bored" in his letter. He is never shown to "like" his servants being completely submissive for pleasure, he just does it because he cannot trust anything straying. Now does this mean Fyodor wants to control those around him? Yes. Does this show that Fyodor finds this obedience engaging? No.

The only person he has shown interest in (not in a romantic way) is Dazai, who is the only one who can level at his playing field. This makes me wonder, is Fyodor's "type" someone far from who he would actually fall for? I feel that to grow interested in someone, Fyodor needs someone who can challenge him. Someone out of his control because they understand him on a level that others cannot, because they are on his equal. Fyodor left his life of boredom through one-sided "companionship" with Dazai.

Note: I find it kinda pathetic of Fyodor to seem so eager about their meet-ups too, since Dazai seems to hate it LMAO

Now I can see Fyodor WANTING to control someone for that safety net and I definitely can't see him going out of his way to get with someone if they're in the way of what he's after, no matter how much he loves them. Bro straight up tries to kill his favorite "chess partner". But it seems that if Fyodor ever wants to pursue a GENUINE relationship, he needs to leave his comfort zone because the only ones who will give him substance will be far outside.

This wasn't meaning any hate or anything, I just wanted to point out traits about Fyodor's character that i've observed, but also to hear your thoughts :D

(Also I can see Fyodor falling for not only someone who can challenge him but someone with a great love for humanity and empathy)

Wow, this was so detailed and awesome to read! Thank you very much for writing this. ❤️

I will break down my perspective on this analysis as you asked me to, but I can say that I agree with most of your points. ❤️

First of all, I know the letter you’re talking about. It actually made me sob for a while when I first read it. I felt the loneliness almost in my own body—the situation he’s in must be so dehumanizing for him.

That being said, I considered many of Asagiri’s explanations about the characters (the letter you cited, the one about White Day, their ideal types, etc.) and formed my interpretation of Fyodor this way.

I absolutely agree with the point that Fyodor is bothered by boredom and that he needs someone who can challenge him.

The question here is, what kind of challenge?

In this case, my point was: someone who can challenge him emotionally (as this is an underdeveloped aspect of his, since he really doesn’t have much opportunity to form meaningful connections with others). Not someone who matches his own mastermind (like Dazai, for example). He values Dazai's ability to read his mind but is not particularly invested in any kind of connection besides that of rivals since he can’t trust him. There is no longing for friendship (a meaningful connection) there. Just Do, Do, Do, and win.

Now, I also believe, like you said, since his motives are not bound to himself but rather the greater good of humanity, the most important thing for him to do is indeed—to win. How is he supposed to cleanse humanity of their sins otherwise?

Where my interpretation differs from yours is that I genuinely think he is very comfortable with being the lead in any kind of situation. What he is uncomfortable with is—guess what? Vulnerability, in general. Just like Dazai. And the most challenging vulnerability to overcome, in my interpretation, would be emotional vulnerability.

In my opinion, he would be interested in someone who can challenge him mentally but not strategically. He knows that feeling. It is true that Dazai quenches his thirst for competence and competition in that sense, but is such a person truly fit for Fyodor?

My main issue with a strategically competent partner is the high possibility of Fyodor never being able to fully trust her. I’ve read many headcanons and fanfictions about him and such a partner, but it never really clicked in my mind.

The aspect of him preferring an intelligent individual over a shallow one is, I think, a very common perception of his character in the fandom, which I wholeheartedly agree with.

But: emotional intelligence is a very powerful aspect of intelligence, as well.

Him wanting to control her for security reasons is absolutely valid in my opinion and interpretation too, since it was what I meant in the first place anyway. He wouldn’t manipulate his partner just for the sake of it—he is too deep of a character for that.

Overall, I hope I haven’t missed any of the aspects you were referring to. I’ll gladly edit my post if anything is missing! ❤️

In conclusion, I LOVED your analysis. I’m very glad when someone makes me think deeper about my own thought process and interpretations. Anything of that kind is deeply welcomed and appreciated! ❤️

To read my other works => MASTERLIST

[philtstone]

24. Showing up injured at their friend/mentor’s house: for shawn? :)

[emerges from writing this fic bloody and beaten and on the verge of collapse] ill explore karen vicks character in an overly complicated post-episode missing scene fic or die trying! set immediately post "right turn or left for dead". i genuinely dont know if im happy with this but i also cant figure out how to fix it. actually, it would have probably been easier to write if i was willing to rewatch the episodes its based on. which i am not, because i am a sensitive little soul. so i winged it. i think there are like 10 different ideas that crop up and theyre all equally fascinating as character threads but i have no idea if i tied them together in an even remotely coherent way. also, WOULD she say that??? i had to call my brother twice to ask. this is what yall get for sending me actually interesting prompts, huh

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Henry’s voice said on the phone. “I’ll send Shawn over with them on his way out. He's going in your direction, anyway.”

In her short tenure as the junior detective to Henry Spencer’s lieutenant, Karen Vick observed two things:

First, that he was a far more clever strategist than most people gave him credit for. Despite the ongoing wreckage of his impending divorce and a kid who was slipping through his fingers as everyone looked on, Karen didn’t agree with the other junior detectives’ impression of him as a smash-the-door-down old school hard ass with thinning hair and a worst attitude. The man played four dimensional chess right out of a bonafide Star Trek episode. When he really wanted something done, Henry Spencer could bullshit and bluff and battle plan with the pros, and half the time you’d get too caught up in the blustering misdirect to realize his game was intricately thought out three steps in advance.

It was how they caught the Shorttown Killer, and also how they got that idiot Trembley at the mayor’s office to finally replace their coffee maker. Karen went home to her then-boyfriend, now-husband, and, right before bed, pulled out an old school workbook and took notes.

The second thing was that Henry Spencer loved his son. 

Not a lot has changed since then, Karen thinks, staring down the weirdness that she now faces through her open front door.

“… Oh — Mr. Spencer,” Karen says, because it’s rude not to greet your employees when they show up at your home outside of work hours, and are also your old friend-slash-colleague’s kid. “Hello. Thanks for — bringing these over.”

“Dad said it was urgent,” Shawn says.

Urgent isn’t quite how Karen would describe it, but hearing through the grapevine that your department might be facing an audit sometime in the next quarter does light a fire under the proverbial ass. Karen would rather bend a few rules and make sure the last year’s i’s and t’s are dotted and crossed right than leave her detectives vulnerable to the whims of a mayoral stooge. 

In general, Karen prides herself on caring about the people under her command just enough that it inspires genuine friendship and loyalty. The just is important. Care needs tempering – it’s important to pull back, press pause, keep certain lines uncrossed. It’s especially important if you want to be successful as a woman in an authority position where lives are often on the line. 

What she’s saying is that she tries to make it none of her business what her employees get up to in their spare time. She really genuinely does. She’s shut O’Hara down gently midway through the twelfth sweetly-frazzled attempt to overshare about her dating life (or her efforts to befriend her next-door neighbor, or the endearing personality quirks of her last cat – rest in peace, Triscuit, you will be missed –) enough times to be well-versed in the art of I Won’t Ask, You Won’t Tell, But You’ll Probably Know I Care Anyway.

An invaluable rapport to maintain. In any situation, Karen thinks, but especially when you’re a person who regularly hires and works alongside Shawn Spencer.

She’s not sure whether what she’s looking at right now makes her want to second guess or double down on her usual policy. 

“Special delivery,” Shawn adds, like everything is super normal.

Karen narrows her eyes. She glances behind them into the quiet residential street.

“Shawn,” she says.

“Yes, Chief?”

“You didn’t drive here, did you?”

“Ha,” he says, half rolling his eyes to accompany a weird aborted grin. “No. Even I don’t think riding a motorcycle with a concussion is a good idea. What if someone who wasn’t me got hurt? That’s — that would be no good, then you’d have to arrest me. Wouldn’t that be a huge bummer for the whole team, Chief? Gus would cry. And my dad wouldn’t let me take his truck.”

Karen stares at him. Shawn stares at the ground.

“I got a cab,” he says.

“And you are … taking another cab – home?”

Shawn looks quite suddenly like he’s going to be sick.

“Sure,” he says. 

Shawn looks terrible. Bruised face, bags under his eyes, and a weird frenetic energy twitching in his limbs that doesn’t pair well with his general air of exhaustion. He’s holding his shoulders stiffly and can barely meet her eye. His t-shirt and sweatpants are rumpled, like he slept in them, even though it’s too early in the evening for Henry to have woken him up to send him here, and when he thrusts the promised files out into the air toward her, abrupt and, admittedly, Shawn-like, he only just hides the awkward wince that immediately overtakes his left side.

The last couple days have been a bit of a whirlwind, so Karen can’t say she necessarily blames herself for not looking more closely. 

Even so.

Slowly, Karen reaches forward and divests him of the case files. They slip a little bit, because Karen can’t seem to stop peering shrewdly at Shawn’s face while she does it, and on instinct he reaches forward to stop the stack from toppling. 

It does help, but the autopilot he moves on makes it harder to mask what is to Karen’s eyes a very obvious flinch. 

“Alright,” is all he says. “Well, good to see you. Time to head back to the old hay stack.”

Like a needle in a haystack and time to hit the hay, Karen supplies needlessly in her own head. Aloud, she says, in many ways against her better judgment, 

“Mr. Spencer, are you okay?”

Shawn sways on the spot for a second, one fist clenched, mouth half open. For a strange moment, Karen gets the impression that he’s trying really hard not to say the wrong thing.

“... As rain,” he finally manages, then nods to himself like he achieved some great feat. “Okay. Well –”

“Did something happen to your shoulder?” 

“What? No!” Shawn’s eyes flutter closed and he shakes his head, “I’m – fine, Chief. It’s not – I mean, I’m – normal, fine. Fine in a normal way.”

“That’s not something an individual who’s fine in a normal way would say,” Karen says. 

“Uh, is it not! It is. I would know, because I am that individual. It’s – I was – there’s just mild – pfft … stab wound – or something, who would even …”

Is Shawn broken? is the unhelpful thought that pops into Karen’s head. She’s never heard an attempt to bullshit collapse so quickly into pathetic nothingness before – certainly not from Shawn.

Perhaps even more than his father, the kid’s a pro.

And then the rest of the sentence catches up with her.

“A mild stab wound?”

Oh boy. She watches Shawn’s eyes widen with the panic that proceeds an unquestionable blunder.

“Chief –” 

“In.”

“Chief, I really, really don’t think –”

“Inside my house. Now.”

He’s certainly uncoordinated enough that he doesn’t put up much of a fight. Karen herds him  through the door as firmly as possible and leads them in a beeline past Richard’s office toward the bathroom, ignoring the reedy stream of consciousness that spills out of Shawn’s mouth as they go.

“Oh, hey, woah, it’s been like forever since I was in here. Did you redecorate? I swear that lamp wasn’t there the last time we visited. It could be the tacos I had earlier, but I’m sensing a distinct neo-modern Chinese aesthetic going on here, Chief, which calls to mind the merits of cultural appreciation in suburban home decor – hey, is that your husband’s office? Can I meet him? Is he home? That man is a true enigma to us, Chief, and it’s leading me to believe that he must possess all the facial and personality qualities of the pop superstar Mr. Pitbull Worldwide –”

Richard is home, actually, and Karen needs to alert him to the fact that they have an unexpected house guest, so, ignoring Shawn completely, she calls out,

“Honey? Shawn Spencer’s here for a couple minutes about a work thing! I’ll go up to put Iris to bed in a second!” in the finely-honed There Are Many Layers Of Complicated To This secret married tone that Richard should probably be able to catch through the closed office door. 

“Alright,” floats out her husband’s pleasant voice. “Tell him hi from me.”

Perfect. There’s about a ninety-three percent chance he understood.

They make it to the bathroom, only stumbling slightly. Shawn says,

“-- or The Rock. Does your husband look like Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson? I really think that would make so many things about the Chief Vick family make sense –”

Karen closes the bathroom door with a snap and crosses her arms.

“Sit,” she says, in a voice that even he knows brooks no argument.

Shawn does. He looks – well, beyond uncomfortable, and more than a little bit miserable, and probably closer to completely dissociating than either of them are prepared for. Karen wonders belatedly if he's gotten any sleep at all in the last forty-eight hours.

“I’m assuming you have not been to the hospital.”

He gives her a baleful look, like he really expected better of her. She only just stops herself from rolling her eyes in response. And there’s that huge goose egg on his forehead, too. What, exactly, he got up to in between Carlton’s wedding reception and oh-eight-hundred hours this morning Karen has no idea, but he looks like someone’s run him through the world’s most aggressive industrial tumble dry cycle and spat him mercilessly back out. 

Or maybe over with a truck.

Sending a silent prayer to the universe that Iris never hit puberty and remains a sweet-tempered six-year-old forever, Karen gets to business.

“Well, I had to at least ask. Shawn. Does it need stitches?” He mumbles the answer the first time, and then looks beyond startled when she grabs him under the chin so he’ll look her in the eye. “Listen. I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. But you’re going to tell me the truth. Got it?”

Shawn grimaces so hard at her words it’s almost a flinch. 

“No,” he says finally, clearly enough that she hears him. Karen raises an eyebrow. “No, I don’t think it needs stitches,” he articulates, but doesn’t meet her eye.

“Hm. Alright. I have gauze and tape in the medicine cabinet. Can I … is it alright if I pull up the sleeve of your t-shirt?”

Released from her hold, he groans and presses his face into one palm. “Chief –”

“I don’t really know what you expected, coming here! It’s not like I’m any less of a hardass than your father.”

“Yeah, but I can bitch back at my dad,” Shawn says, sounding like he’s finally realizing the magnitude of his mistake. Karen smiles grimly.

“Tough. Now pull your shirt up while I get the first aid kit.”

While Shawn proceeds to wrestle awkwardly with his t-shirt in a muted shuffle against the toilet seat, Karen rummages efficiently through the cabinet and eyes him through the bathroom mirror. He seems oddly reluctant to expose himself. In fact, in a stark contrast to his usual insistence on making his presence and contributions as obtrusively obvious as possible, Shawn seems intent on shrinking into the aforementioned Asian-flavored floral wallpaper (which does need an update, unfortunately) with all the equanimity of an anxious chameleon. Karen feels her eyebrows crease. Taking the first aid kit in hand, she brings it over and deposits it into his arms, ignoring his small startle.

“How about you hold that,” Karen says. Shawn does, against his chest, like a pillow. She walks around him and surveys the damage, antiseptic gauze in hand.

He wasn’t lying about the severity, at least. It’s a shallow thing, already mostly congealed, and has only stained his shirt in a small smattering spot of crusty brown blood.

Karen swabs at it with the alcohol using light careful fingers.

“Ow, ow ow ah –”

“Don’t be such a baby. It’s hardly a life-threatening injury.”

“Super insightful, Chief,” Shawn snaps, as genuinely sarcastic as he’s probably ever been with her, “never thought of that myself. Totally the reason why I just had to go to the hospital.”

He doesn’t pull away, but she can feel the tension radiating through his back. She blinks, one eyebrow crawling up her forehead. 

Alright then. So that’s how it’s going to be. 

“I’m assuming your father doesn’t know about this,” she says.

Shawn grunts, noncommittal. Huh. Maybe he does know, then, and has just been disallowed from doing anything about it right now.

She tosses the first used antiseptic wipe into the trash.

Goddamn four dimensional chess.

She supposes she’s never been bad at the game. She may as well work her way backwards through the moves: Guster, the most obvious node in Shawn’s turn-to-in-a-crisis-system, would never voluntarily abandon his friend in a time of need, so Karen assumes that whatever this is has either already included his support or not been made known to Gus at all yet. Henry’s likely exhausted his own usefulness in the situation, and Detective O’Hara is …

Karen has to work very hard for her hands not to pause in a way that gives away her hard-earned mental sleuthing. A bad feeling wholly unrelated to her ill-advised hangover of the day before begins to bloom at the back of her gut.

“You have really small hands, Chief.”

Shawn’s voice is notably more subdued than before.

“Do I?” 

“They’re like … little kangaroo hands. Like the mom kangaroo from Whinnie the Pooh.”

“Didn’t you know?” Karen says, not unkindly. “They’re given out at the hospital when all first-time moms leave with their baby.”

He lets out a tired little laugh, more boyish than he probably means it to be, and in spite of herself Karen feels her heart clench. She isn’t blind. In all her last seven years as the leader of their chaotic little precinct, she has never seen Juliet O’Hara look as ill as she did yesterday morning. The usually sweet-faced young woman had all the pallor of a Victorian ghost, and stood so far away from Shawn in any given room that to an unassuming observer he might have had the plague.

There are only a handful of things, Karen thinks, that could have invited that particular evolution in their dynamic. She rips the surgical tape from its canister a little bit more harshly than is strictly necessary and fights the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose between her fingers.

“So,” she says conversationally, laying the tape down in neat, gentle little strips, trying not to pinch the wound too tightly. “Any fun plans for the evening?”

Shawn sniffs. She can see him gripping his hands together over his knee from where she stands above him.

“Um, yeah, uh –” he clears his throat, “you know me, Chief. We’re working our way through a Robert Guillame marathon, which means some good old fashioned Benson, running commentary on the quality of that child acting, naturally.”

“Naturally.” 

“Then Gus and I were gonna hit up the new, the new chili cheese joint up by Hermosa, you know – they’re doing sliders –”

“Chili cheese sliders?” Karen hums, contemplative.

“Buy ‘em by the pound,” Shawn agrees. “Then I was thinking of getting a tattoo, maybe a belly button piercing, I’ve been really – really needing a change – would you let Iris get one, if she asked?”

“A tattoo?” Karen clarifies, cutting off the next piece of tape. The skin around the cut is warm to her touch but Shawn’s arms have goosepimpled. The hair at the back of his head sticks up unstyled, like he slept weirdly and couldn’t be bothered to fix it come morning.

“Of a marmoset. That’s what I’m thinking. With distinctly effeminate vibes.”

“Well, Dick hates marmosets. So I’d probably encourage her toward something else. Perhaps a sea lion.”

“Like Shabby.” The nervous note has bled into his legs again, and his earlier subdued tone has gone back to sounding strained. “Yeah, that’ll – that could be it.”

“All in one night, huh?” Karen says.

“I –” Shawn doesn’t even hiss when she presses down with a cotton gauze to cover the last of the thickened blood. His legs are properly jittering again. “I was – yeah, y-you know me, Chief, total night owl.”

“Shawn?”

“Yeah?”

“What about going home?”

Silence. Shawn doesn’t answer for a moment long and pregnant enough that Karen wonders if her question will be ignored entirely. 

Then,

“Chief,” he says finally, in an awful, tiny little voice, “I really, really fucked up.”

Finally, her hands do falter in their ministrations; as emotionally exuberant as Shawn often is, she doesn’t think she’s ever actually heard him close to tears. For a horrible moment she wonders if Shawn Spencer will suddenly start crying atop her toilet seat for reasons neither of them are capable of discussing honestly. Then she wonders if her horror makes her a terrible boss.

Boss – mother – person.

Oh, dear.

She sets down the surgical tape and lays a ginger palm over the newly-bandaged gouge in his shoulder. It’ll probably scar, but not at all badly. She doesn’t like to think about the far more obvious one just below, puckering in a violent yet unassuming divot. Another narrow miss for Henry’s boy. 

At this point there are so many of them to count, Karen has to question the statistical likelihood of the whole thing. Becoming a mathematical anomaly is, Karen can attest with confidence, not exactly the future the Lieutenant Spencer she knew dreamed of for his increasingly unmanageable teenager. 

Doing what he loved, on the other hand – absolutely. Being with a person he loved, even more so. Karen grits her teeth at the irritating web she’s spent the last six years constructing around herself and wonders if this evening right here is some kind of cosmic karma for leaving Iris in the care of nannies for the first three years of her life.

That sounds like the kind of thing those horrible parenting magazines and Karen’s mother-in-law would claim, anyway.

“Shawn,” she says slowly, because she has to at least knock this possibility off the list before risking her career in an attempt to mediate her detectives’ love lives, “did you … you weren’t – unfaithful, were you?”

“What?!” 

Shawn yanks his shoulder away and whirls around to face her with such a look of horrified betrayal on his face that it’s almost comical. 

“No!” 

Thank fucking God, Karen thinks. Aloud, she says,

“Well, I’m sorry, I had to at least ask!”

“No! No! What the hell, Chief!”

“Oh would you be quiet! I’m gathering my evidence here!”

“How could I – I would never – you’d even think that I could –”

“I know! Shawn, for God’s sake –” He’s scrambled to his feet in the cramped bathroom space, glaring, and has probably messed up all that surgical tape in the process. The half open first aid kit and his crumpled shirt press lopsided against his front and her garbage can is now full of oxidizing bits of cotton. Karen officially gives in to the urge to press her palms against her forehead. “I had to ask!” she repeats finally. “You and I both know you’re not gonna give me much else to work with, and you sounded so – so sad!” 

Shawn barks out a hysterical little laugh. Karen almost growls in frustration. 

“I am not going to risk all the very hard-earned rules I have in place without knowing for sure that my instincts aren’t wrong. Is that so hard to appreciate?”

Does it count as sound police work when the framework for your investigation is an unacknowledged lie? Karen doesn’t really know. Probably there’s another math metaphor to be made in there (you screwed your proof from the very beginning, maybe, Richard the professor would definitely have thoughts), or just a straight up joke. How to solve a case that’s cold before it ever has the chance to go live; a cover-up if she ever saw one. Unlikely that O’Hara will peep a word, and things will be a true mess for a few weeks, if she can’t make an educated guess about it. And no one will be explaining anything to Carlton, either …

Right before their goddamn audit, Karen thinks, aggrieved. She wonders if Henry considered this in his calculus. Send Shawn over, have her deal with him. Offer a huge unspoken you’re gonna be walking into a shitstorm tomorrow canary for her perennially chaotic mess of a coal mine. 

She can’t help but feel begrudgingly grateful, but that doesn’t mean she and he won’t be having words about this later.   

“Jesus, Karen,” Shawn mutters, pressing his face back into his free hand. Karen shakes her head and squares her shoulders.

“Well then! Back to the issue. You fucked up.”

“You know what? I can’t talk about this with you.”

“Oh, Mr. Spencer, I assure you I am more than well aware.”

Shawn blinks at her between his fingers, looking genuinely confused for the first time since he showed up at her door. 

Karen does not bother to clear up his confusion; it’s better this way, anyhow.

“Will you be sleeping at Gus’s place or your father’s?” she asks, crossing her arms.

“I’m – I don’t –” Shawn doesn’t meet her eye. The earlier thread of anxiety is back. “I wasn’t …”

So, neither. 

“Put your shirt back on,” she says. “We’re relocating to the living room.”

“Chief –”

“That was an order, Mr. Spencer.”

The living room is as quiet and mundane as it was an hour ago. It’s past Iris’s bedtime – she’ll have to go up, and soon at that. Karen seats her guest, retrieves a mug and a bag of chamomile from the kitchen, and removes the fluffy throw blanket from the basket behind the couch on her way back in. He’s deflated completely by the time the tea and blanket are set in front of him. Small and exhausted. Caught. It’s a horrible way to think about it. But she can’t avoid the hundred yard stare – Karen has seen it one too many times in people only just realizing they’re about to go away for life.

“Shawn,” she says, firm as she can make it. “Drink the tea. You’re dehydrated.”

“I’m … what?”

“Your lips are dry. You shouldn’t be dehydrated with a concussion.”

He doesn’t say anything for a minute, and Karen suddenly wonders if he’s going to get up and leave. She has experience with these things – she knows a runner when she sees one.

“I might as well have,” Shawn finally whispers.

She doesn’t catch it the first time. “What?”

“I – I might as well ha – Chief, I …” Deep shuddering breaths. He’s finally shutting down, she realizes. She can’t send him back out like this; Henry would give her the stink eye for a month.

Goddamn Spencers and their goddamn irritating overcomplicated lives.

Karen pushes the tea directly into his hands and tilts her chin so she can meet Shawn’s eye. He’s still lucid enough that she doesn’t think he’ll start hyperventilating, but now that the outrage and adrenaline has worn off, the symptoms of shock are pretty hard to miss. “Shawn,” she says again, and wills for him to understand.

“What if she – what if I never –” He can’t get the full sentence out. He looks at her, eyes wide and terrified.

Life sentence, Karen thinks again. The messy stack of files Shawn brought over sits almost unimportantly on the coffee table between them and a memory comes to her, unbidden, of words penned carefully in the corner of a modified police report that she pulled the minute the door closed on the McCallum case seven years ago. 

Date: May 4th, 1995. Reporting Officer, Spencer, Lt. H. Perpetrator a caucasian male, brown hair, five foot nine, insists on wearing those stupid earrings just to spite me. What the hell do you want me to write here, Chief? Spent two hours in the fucking principal’s office convincing them not to expel him one month off from graduation. All that effort, and I still booked the kid. It’s gonna follow him for life, and it’s gonna be me that did it to him. For life. You think he’ll ever forgive me? He’s the greatest thing in my pathetic little world and he keeps breaking my heart, and I can’t even properly accept that it’s my fault. 

How’s that for a fucking crime.

She needs to go put her daughter to bed. It’s the thought that keeps running through her head, oddly enough, like a strange antidote to the impotent anger and heartbreak and frustration she’s feeling for the people under her care.

With all the notes she took in that little workbook, she still let herself become complicit in the painstaking, convoluted resolution of Henry’s mistakes without accounting for all the variables.  

Richard’s footsteps sound muffled in the next room; he’s made his way upstairs in Karen’s absence. She needs to go. She wants to hear the soft and sleepy love you Mama that with her unpredictable hours and regular long nights isn’t nearly routine enough.

“Shawn,” she says evenly. “Do you love her?”

It’s hard to reconcile the smarmy kid who tried to barter with her for twelve hundred a day with the devastated young man sitting on the couch in front of her.

“Chief …” he starts, barely above a whisper.

“Good. Then she’ll see that. Detective O’Hara is a smart and observant woman. What she chooses to do next is her decision, but … you might be – well, comforted by the fact that she’ll know that – truth.”

Shawn stares at her. The tea steams in front of him, cooling in increments. She takes a deep breath and gets to her feet, patting his uninjured shoulder brusquely. 

“I have to go check on Iris. When I come back down, I can drive you to the Psych office.”

Iris is fast asleep when she gets there. A library book lays open face down over her stomach, and her soft brown hair fans out against the pillow, silhouetted by the soft glow of the unicorn nightlight in the wall above her. Karen turns off the bedside lamp, tucks her daughter in, and kisses her forehead. Just before she leaves, she hears it: murmured, half-awake.

“Love you, Mama.”

“I love you too, baby.”

Karen goes back to her living room, car keys in hand. She’s planned her next move in the driver’s seat enough times throughout her career that it shouldn’t be too hard. 

[casscainmainly]

I know your not really much of a Jason Todd fan but I kinda wanna hear your opinion on this. Is the Bruce Wayne Brainwshing Jason Todd still canon? If so so you think it’s out of character for Bruce to do this.

Also how do you feel about Bruce’s characterization in modern comics in general actually?

Honestly it’s one of the reasons I’m kinda hesitant to read the comics, because while I’m super interested in all the lore- both Batman himself and his family (especially Cassandra she sounds awesome I love characters that show unwavering, intense dedication to compassion)I DONT want to read comics where Bruce is like, a completely awful paranoid asshole with none ofhis redeemable qualities (I got interested in Batman via clips of the JLU/BTAS)And according to a lot of Batman fans his characterization in this respect has been on a downward spiral for years now.

Like I’m not even a “god dad Bruce Wayne” person, I think his actions regarding Stephane Brown make a lot of sense for him actually and play into the effect that Jason Todd’s death has on him well and kinda wanna read me about that outside of fanfiction.

PS.Sorry if this ask is long and kinda random, I know this is mostly a Cassandra Cain blog.

Interesting question!! I'm not an expert on Bruce or Jason, so I'll answer to the best of my knowledge. I'm assuming Bruce brainwashing Jason is a reference to Gotham War, when he injects fear toxin into Jason's brain to make him afraid anytime he experiences adrenaline. I haven't read this so I can't comment too much, but this breakdown is useful if you want context for what led Bruce to this moment; it did happen in an in-continuity comic, so yes, it is (unfortunately) canon.

Some things to note for the context of Gotham War is that Bruce is grappling with Zur-En-Arrh, a sort of second personality. While this doesn't make it good writing, Bruce is not 100% in-character when he injects Jason. Whether or not that absolves him of wrongdoing is questionable, but it's a little unfair to Bruce as a character, and even to Chip Zdarsky as a writer, to think the thing with Jason was meant to be an in-character moment. So while I do think injecting Jason is out of character, that's kind of the point of the arc.

That's not to say the run is well-written. I can't judge myself, but many people dislike this run for numerous reasons. But this is just one of Bruce's modern runs - there are many more amazing Bruce comics out there. Ram V's Detective Comics and Scott Snyder's Absolute Batman are two fantastic takes on Bruce (though the latter is an alternate universe and ongoing, it's so far extremely entertaining!).

There will always be better and worse times for a character's characterisation, and you will encounter some horrible stuff in canon, but you'll find some life-changing stories too. You sound like you genuinely want to delve into comics, so please do! Don't let the risk of reading something bad stop you - there is so much good in here, stories that will make you laugh and cry and stick in your mind forever.

Since you're specifically looking for dad Bruce Wayne stuff, here are some recommendations!

Batgirl (2000): a very nuanced portrayal of Bruce as a dad to Cass. Definitely not a Good Dad Bruce at all, but he genuinely loves her and tries his hardest. 5/10 on the Good Dad Bruce scale.

Tynion's Detective Comics (2016): very good starter comic in general for the Batfam, and Bruce has numerous sweet moments with Tim and Cass (Steph too, if you count her as a kid). 8/10 on the Good Dad Bruce scale.

Robin & Batman (2021): not 100% sure if this is in continuity, but it's 3 issues and a lovely depiction of early Dick and Bruce. Features very realistic mishaps on Bruce's part, but sets up the foundation for a strong, beautiful relationship. 6.5/10 on the Good Dad Bruce scale. (This is also getting a sequel featuring Jason!)

World's Finest: Batman/Superman (2022-): an ongoing series that is pure comic book fun. Robin!Dick features heavily here, and there's some wonderful Batdad moments. 8.5/10 on the Good Dad Bruce scale.

Tom Taylor's Nightwing: probably the best dad Bruce in modern comics, and has very sweet moments with Dick throughout. One big caveat is the characterisation can be off, so I recommend this only in the context of Bruce being a good dad to Dick. 10/10 on the Good Dad Bruce scale.

You also can't go wrong with either Batman and Robin (2011) or (2023), which focus on Damian and Bruce (haven't read either but 2023 in particular seems to have good dad Bruce). Batman & The Signal and Batman & The Outsiders (2019) have great Duke-Bruce moments, while Bruce Wayne: The Road Home: Batgirl is the best Steph-Bruce stuff we'll ever get that isn't wildly out of character. Batman and Robin: Year One is currently coming out for more Robin!Dick and Bruce relationship cuteness and drama.

I hope that answered your ask! I am mostly a Cass blog but I do love to talk about other characters so no need to apologise :)).

[flanpucci]

Hello and welcome to my TED talk today I have decided to write a wall of text about why portraying Dio and Pucci’s relationship as manipulation is actually taking a lot out of Pucci’s agency and character, and diminishing him. Disclaimer that this is not shipping discourse, this is media analysis. I don’t want to talk about whether it is moral or not that they get along, I don’t care, I only want to comment on the media.

So someone sent me a DM telling me that Dio was manipulating an emotionally distraught and vulnerable Pucci into following his plan, and that he exploited him to do all sorts of crimes (framing Jolyne, killing people, stealing discs) by presenting himself as a trustworthy, God-like figure, and called the Heaven plan ‘Heaven’ to get Pucci to follow it by exploiting his religious beliefs.

First of all Dio met Pucci before he was distraught about his sister's situation. After the situation occurred, it is Pucci who seeked him for answers as to why he was alive and not his sibling/s, like he seeked answers from God a few years before by becoming a priest student. Dio left a door open, nothing more. Of course Dio was seeking to be admired, he was also seeking companionship as he has always done ever since he was young, and someone to carry his plan. Pucci was looking for answers, for self-growth, for someone to push him towards the top, towards what he believes is the destiny that was designed for him (the reason he’s alive and not his twin).

Is it forbidden to look for something in someone? Does it make it not genuine? No, we all look for something in a friendship. And this seemed like a fair deal for both. One needs a trusted friend, an ally, but not a blind follower, and as we’ll see later, he needs someone to help him transcend his human? vampire? condition again. The other one needs a reason to live, a quest to fulfill, and hope that he could one day obtain the ‘happiness’ and ‘peace of mind’ that Dio wants so much too. He’s also someone who strives for greatness, who wants to ‘step outside human boundaries’.

Not forgetting that Pucci is someone fueled by a profound curiosity and rationality, it is only natural that he’d side with someone who has the abilities and ambition Dio has. Framing Jolyne, killing people, stealing discs, it is all out of Pucci's agency, long after the death of Dio. He's actually the one who suggested he could store and use Survivor, and he’s the one who asked for it! Dio thought Survivor was useless, that it was only a weakness, and Pucci convinced him with the idea that it could be prove itself useful.

Pucci is shown to have ‘lost’ faith in Christianity very early on, maybe not really having true religious belief at all (as in, the actually believing there’s a God sense.) He got into priesthood for philosophical reasons (seeking answers to an existential question). He seems to be a very pragmatic christian with interests in science that contradicts some of the scripture’s theories.

I don't think calling the plan ‘Heaven’ was a bait based on Pucci's religious beliefs. Over Heaven isn't canon, but it shows Dio having a very Christian mother. He's an intelligent man, born in a very christian time and place, and thought ‘Heaven’ was the name of the kingdom promised to the legitimate ruler of the world, himself. If anything the first time they meet he makes it very clear they're not striving for anything Bible related but for realizing their full potential and finding happiness.

Dio saw very early on that Pucci was not a very faithful catholic, judging by the book he's reading when they meet in the ossuary, and then Pucci commiting crimes even before seeing Dio again (hiring someone to beat up his brother, leaving his brother as dead). He then commits blasphemy by calling him King of Kings and comparing his love to the one he has for God. Pucci does not think of Dio as the christian God, he loves him as he loves God, but he's not blind and misled. He refers to him with proximity terms all throughout the manga (even when he's young), never used honorifics like the henchmen do, calls him 'kimi' (casual/informal ‘you’), 'my close friend'.

Even Dio uses ‘kimi’ instead of the ‘omae’ that shows inferiority that he uses with Vanilla for example. In the way they talk to/about each other, they're protrayed as equals, which once again is very unusual for Dio. All throughout their scenes Dio is shown slightly seductive at first, then not as overtly seducing as he usually is, he’s talking about the plan, and strategy (even though he still maintains physical contact, I mean, it’s still Dio), and then seems to relax progressively by doing activities and chit-chatting, to the point of Dio becoming paranoid that his weakness is known. Yes, Dio was pretty nice and not as big an asshole as usual because he needed someone for the plan, but what did he need? A "friend that he can trust from the bottom of his heart" (信頼できる友), so he tried to make one by not being an asshole, and guess what? He did! And he got scared that he managed to do so, because it's freaking Dio lol. Dio’s life has only been him trying to show dominance, and facing rejection. Heck he was rejected and degraded even when he won that chess game against an adult in the first minutes of the show. But everyone wants friends for a reason! Be it not to be alone, to be loved, to have someone to talk to about certain topics... And we all make efforts and try to be nice to make friends. That's not manipulation that's called not being a dysfunctional piece of shit like Dio usually was shown to be before he met Pucci. Why was he different with Pucci? I'm bringing up the parallel with the Jonathan and Dio scene which really shows that Dio hasn't changed and is acting the way he always has, testing people, he just has never been met with trust and acceptance, only with rejection, unlike what Pucci has done from their first meeting and after :

Scene plays out very similarly at first, except that this time Dio hasn’t done anything wrong, but he was expecting to be betrayed and wasn’t, which led him to get paranoid and set up Pucci so that he’d attack him, which he didn’t. And what did Dio do? Apologize and give him a part of what's literally the most important thing he has, 'his' body.

The fact that Pucci kept his 'sentimentality' towards his friend (I quote), his obsessive affection for Dio, and hope in his plan for such a long time is easily understandable, he had everything to win from Dio's plan (which is very different from nothing to lose, he has quite a lot to lose!). He could be cleansed from his sin, or at least put everyone on his level, be granted the reward of unconditional love, he could grow to a close to godly status or be a messiah carrying god's will (be special, push the boundaries of being human), and maybe, just maybe revive his loved ones too. He could rewrite his destiny at best, and at worst, obtain peace of mind. If anything helping Dio might even have been an excuse for Pucci to lie to himself about his real intentions with this plan (unconsciously : finally accomplishing his destiny of being special over his sibling and basically everyone else, consciously : giving everyone the chance to prepare for tragedy + opening everyone's eyes to the fact that what he did, cause his sister's death, was not really his fault since it was written by fate all along.)

Now if you really have a high esteem of Dio's intelligence you can argue that he did it all on purpose, he gave out his weakness on purpose to mellow Pucci, he called the plan Heaven to cater to Pucci's faith, he talked him into doing crimes, pretended to feel equal/inferior so that Pucci would give him his trust... But 1) Dio's not that good at it, has too big trust issues himself and has other means for submitting people to his will (as seen with Kakyoin, Polnareff...), 2) it's literally written this has to be built on trust which in my opinion completely disqualifies a manipulation aspect to it. Of course there are many other sources that further the idea that they were really friends, I'm thinking about how their relationship is described in interviews or the Jojo Mag, but I wanted this post to focus on canon interpretation.

Thank you for reading my essay, I’m always happy to chat and comment on the dynamics between characters in the material. I am not willing to talk about morality or shipping discourse here so please refrain from sending me such comments.

[youngestsano]

𝓙𝓸𝓱𝓷 𝓓𝓸𝓡𝓨 𝔁 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

A/n : My friend wrote this since she wants to experience the feeling of the writing a scenario. But i hope you like it ! :))

Every morning of her day, there would be a new gift outside of her house waiting.

It would be so annoying that it would get in her way from time to time. She knew right away who it was from, as she found him very irritating when some days he tries to start conversations with her.

 

It’s not like she hates having conversations with people, but when it’s a person who tries to talk to her and gives her items to impress her just for fun, it could be infuriating.

Some days she tries to give little signs that she doesn’t find any interest in him or any of his gifts, but he’s so lovestruck that he doesn’t even see the signs this been happening for the past couple of months as she showed no interest in him. John finally figuring out that she has no interest in him as he decided to give one more chance, and if she declines this time he will have to eventually give up.

 

Until one morning, when she finally had enough of this sick behavior, As she was walking around the troll village until she saw a familiar guy, she immediately tried to speed away without getting noticed. But it was too late, as she heard her name being called out many times.

“Hey you! Y/N, Here! I got these flowers for you! Aren’t they beautiful? Just like you!!!” He said, smiling. His heart beat was rising, the girl was too cute for his liking. He had to have her to himself, one way or another.

"Oh, more flowers..?" Y/n notes, staring down at the bouquet John gave her. She seems annoyed by them, actually.

The girl picks a flower from the bouquet. "...what are these?"

She asks bluntly, taking the time to squish the flower in her hand. The petals are scattered everywhere, the flower is now destroyed. His smile becomes slightly crooked

“I-I uhm- I was only trying to do something nice for you! You know I have feelings for you- you don’t need to destroy it- I just wanted you to like it...” He said, almost holding back a tear.

The shortie tilts her head. "...so you like me?"

Y/n puts up one of her tiny eyebrows in intrigue.

"That's what you were doing? You were trying to impress me?" “Yes! I am! I can’t control myself when I see you... I want you to fall in love with me, so I must give you flowers and plushies! It’s my only shot at you...” He said, smiling through the pain in his eyes. "...why me?"

Y/n asks bluntly. She wasn't used to people actually liking her for her, so she was taken aback by his comment.

"He's actually serious?"

She thought, seeming to actually be interested in the way he's trying to win over her heart. His eyes light up, but he tried to hide it

“I-It’s hard to explain... When I see you, it feels as if the sky is clear of any clouds. Your smile, the way you act, your beauty... All of- All of It... You’re like a goddess to me...”

He said, getting off track. Y/n raises her other eyebrow.

"...you might be the first person to actually say something like that to me. Or is that just something you say to all the girls you want to get with?"

“No, No! Absolutely not! You are the first one- I would never say that to anyone! I’m being dead serious...” He put his heart in his hands, the girl’s eyes seemed so bright and captivating.

If his emotions are genuine, she might consider giving him a chance. She doesn't know if he's actually her 'type' or not, but it wouldn’t hurt to give him a chance and plus she felt bad since he was trying his hardest everyday well more like a month.

*”Why not?" She thought.*

"...alright. I'll give you a chance. If you can impress me enough, maybe I'll think about giving you a shot."

“Y-you will?!” He said, almost jumping out of his skin. He finally did it! He would be able to hold her close! His eyes gleamed like a child, he couldn’t wait for the next day he could see her! He also had a huge grin on his face.

He definitely put a lot of enthusiasm into his response. Y/n smiled upon seeing that.

"He's gonna be a lot easier to deal with than I originally thought." She thought with a smirk. She looked forward to him she then grabbed his hand. “yeah why not..” As she smiled brightly, He then shouted excitedly as he grabbed her letting out a big yelp from her mouth. Her arms wrapped around his neck “Cmon ! we’re going to our first date!”

“WAIT WHAT!?”

Request From : @cherryp0p224

[shewhotellsstories]

People say Eloise is a self centered white feminist who enjoys the privileges that come with being a Bridgerton and although that's true, she is also a sheltered teenage girl who needs to learn about the world.

Her feelings of marriage are valid and while she needs to learn that desiring motherhood and marriage doesn't make a woman lesser, it's part of growing up and learning true feminism. She's a baby feminist but viewers don't want her to grow. How many teenage girls in today's day and age are all-knowing about feminism theory? Her friendship with Theo taught her about the working class and that connection to the outside world could have been a great learning experience for Eloise. Yes she has the privilege of being a Bridgerton but that safety net is exactly why she should be allowed to advocate for things the way she wanted Whistledown to(not a critique of the character but rather the writing and the fandom)

Penelope did some selfish things as Whistledown, abusing her power (cause it wasn't just about being gossip girl for the bag) and rather than acknowledge that we're expected to sweep it under the rug. I LOVE flawed characters because the writing acknowledges their wrong doings and yet certain characters get away with murder.

Eg s1 Blair was awful to Serena and while she had her reasons for doing so, revenge and her own self worth and abandonment issues, the show acknowledged this and we wanted good things for Blair. Serena slept with her best friend's boyfriend and covered up a mans overdose but we still root for her because she is a good person and is trying to grow.

If Penelope doesn't acknowledge her wrongdoings how can she grow as a character.

"Okay publishing a burn book is wrong but I love writing and I'm good at it, maybe I should become Jane Austin or something."

(throwing in how Edwina was raked over the coals for being angry with Kate and while the half sister comment was uncalled for, she wasnt given the same grace Penelope has been given)

I'm sorry for how long and all over the place this is.

No, I get it. The issue is that some characters are given grace while others are crucified. Some characters have their circumstances considered when examining their behavior while others don't. I hate it that some characters get novellas dedicated to defending their bad behavior while others should've just known better.

And that's totally the way I see Eloise Bridgerton. She's a baby feminist! She is in her just watched Ironed Jawed Angels and has maybe read a few zines era of feminism. When I was 17, I remember saying in class that I didn't think it was possible to be a SAHM and be happy and now my opinions have radically shifted because I'm not a kid anymore. Now, if you'd ask me I'd say it's a vulnerable position to be in economically because your security is tied up in your marriage working out and or your husband never dying, but it's your choice ultimately. What a difference a fully developed brain and college professors who require you to read bell hooks and Audre Lorde can make.

But seriously, the sad irony of Eloise being raked over the coals for "doing nothing" is that she was trying to become more informed and it blew up in her face. Spending time with Theo and other members of the working class was really good for her. Sadly, Penelope should've known better than most that she was genuinely trying to expand her worldview, but Eloise is the only person getting the bad friend allegations.

And yeah, as much as I love Kate and Anthony, people were way too hard on Edwina in season two. No one wanted to hurt her, but who in her position would toss confetti?

Plus, I'm really glad someone else is seeing the endless Gossip Girl comparisons that can be made here!

P.S. If you're interested one of my favorite Kanthony fics ends in Anthony and Kate encouraging Eloise to become a fiction/social commentary writer.

[beauspot]

The Bear Season 2: And Why I’m Fucking Annoyed (Full Spoilers below)

*Long Post*

The Bear is something truly special. When it dropped in June of last year it wasn’t a major hit right away. It was a sleeper and it grew its fanbase over time. If you were here this time last year you remember how small the fandom was posts on every platform could barely reach 200 interactions, but with the Golden Globe wins and the word of mouth this fandom began to grow and expand, because season one of the show was just so good.

Season 2 however is an interesting piece of media. I am well aware that I have some bias in this department and I can’t view this season objectively, but neither can the rest of you so I’ll say what I want.

To start off I really enjoyed some of the episodes this season, the first two? Excellent. The Marcus Episode(with my husband Will Poulter at his side)? Fantastic. The Richie Episode? Perfection. And let’s not even talk about Fishes, which was beyond words. I genuinely went into this season wanting to like it and praise it the way I did the previous season because I thought it was good. The writing—which is spectacular in nearly every other place—takes a nosedive with this romance plot. I still do think it’s good, but I can’t act like this whole season hasn’t left a sour taste in my mouth, because it has. Because the show runners are lying racist misogynistic nasty assholes who bullshitted us for nothing.

Toward the end of last year/beginning of this year Chef’s Kiss fans words made their way to some journalist who then asked about the potential for it with the actors and the writer( in an article stupidly named “don’t worry the bear doesn’t want carmy and sydney to kiss, either” the writer of which goes on to ship carmy and marcus so clearly they have excellent taste 😒) who all shut it down. Fine. That’s fine. That’s their opinion and it doesn’t affect us. What bothers me is the words of the co-creator Chris Storer who said this 👇🏾

He went on to say the show was also just meant to be focused on these people doing their jobs. So fine. We said even if it won’t be canon there’s no way they would bring in a new love interest cause that’s not “the vision” they have for the show, right?(He also goes on in the pic above to act like we couldn’t separate our love of the plot of the show from the ship which is…infantilizing and annoying) continuing on though, he also said this

He thought it would be cool to see a show with no romantic plot. Mind you this statement was made in January and the show starting filming in February. So unless they want me to believe they added this romance plot as some last minute thing (which very well could be the case as Claire has quite literally no personality outside of being pushy and being Carmy’s girlfriend) they knew they were having a romance plot in the second season and chose to lie about it. So the actors, the creator, basically everyone who was apart of this project said that Syd and Carmy were a weird ship (a strange thing to say to your, at the time, small audience even if that’s how you felt) just for them to turn around and have Carmy with a new love interest from school and have Sydney and marcus develop feelings for one another in the second to last episode? can y’all be fucking forreal for one minute?

Suddenly all you “yesss let men and women be friends, not every show needs romance” ass bitches want to ship something. I can tell you know Syd and Carmy have chemistry otherwise you wouldn’t have been shaking in your boots hoping the writers wouldn’t get them together. There was some dumb post i saw rooting for Claire and Carm but then adding ‘no one was better than platonic Sydcarmy’…

I see you.

I spoke about this before, but this constant sidelining of black women in these types of shows irks me. Sydney is basically hunting Carmy down for 85% of the season because he can’t do his fucking job he’s so consumed with Claire. And I know people are gonna say i’m being overdramatic, but it’s so clear they just did not want their main white boy to be with a black girl. Something that happens over and over and over again so many fucking times you can just lose count. Carmy, who in season one was so in tune with Sydney’s emotions he quelled his own anger and anxiety to ask if she was ok now ditches her at their restaurant to go help some girl he hasn’t seen since high school. He ditches her to go to a party then has the nerve to bring up Claire’s helping to inspire him.

Like yeah no shit Sydney is sorry that she’s there, y’all are opening a restaurant together which could fuck both your lives if it fails and Carmy is off doing god knows what instead of his job!

WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?!? And yeah, Carmy fucks it up at the end with Claire but that doesn’t negate the rest of the season. Chef’s Kiss shippers are strange and delusional and the show doesn’t need romance and then Claire is half naked in Carmy’s apartment? Look Carmy deserves happiness, his life has been basically nonstop stress and trauma since he was a kid and him ending the season thinking he doesn’t deserve fun or love is heartbreaking because it isn’t true, he deserves all the love in the world especially since he is actively trying to break the cycle (along with his sister). That doesn’t negate the fact that he agreed to being partners with Syd and then left her to make decisions on her own about a business they agreed to start together. Which is why he apologized and rightfully so.

And I know for a fact annoying Sydney and Marcus shippers are going to be like “well ackshully they are clearly setting up Sydcus this season so how can they hate black women.” I love Marcus as much as the next person and honestly after I saw where the writing was going I was like fuck it why not at this point, but if Sydney and Carmy’s shippers were living off crumbs Sydney and Marcus shippers were living off the memory of food. But sure that ship had development.

also no i don’t fuck with that syd and marcus ship because why the fuck are you snapping at sydney cause she rejected you and it wasn’t even really a rejection that was very incel core and it’s not about being upset half the kitchen is always screaming about something, it’s why he snapped at her.

I’m just angry so yeah fuck this show.

I’m genuinely contemplating if I want to watch the next season at all. I said if they wanted to go no romance, fine go no romance, but to not only lie about that but bring in some whole new girl we don’t know and throw the black girl to the closest guy despite the fact Sydney and Carmy are more alike than anyone else? You clearly need to do some introspection and think about why you can view Sydney and Carmen as friends but get sick at the thought of them being more.

There is a possibility (a slight possibility) that they are playing the long game we wanted, but i am wary because they lied and put a manic pixie indie girl in as a love interest this time and it sucked. But then I remember the scene with Syd and Carmy under the table and how open and honest they were with each other and even though their relationship wasn’t the best this season I can see it’s potential, because that one scene had more chemistry than all of that other ships other scenes combined. I don’t know.

This got me thinking though Will Poulter romcom when? I will be seated. Also the consensus on twitter is that people really didn’t like Claire and thought the show should have ditched their plot all together so that’s nice. A lot of people seem to think this is a setup for sydcarmy and idk, maybe i’ll rewatch when i’m more calm.

[stolenorchids]

PSYCHIC MISHAPS AND SWEET MOMENTS

Kusuo Saiki x reader WARNINGS: reader is technically not specified as neither male for female, tooth rotting fluff, Saiki using his abilities to save you from an embarassing moment - I think that's all lol AN: just wanted to say that there's not enough Saiki K fanfictions on here (or in general), so do feel free to send me an ask about the show - or any other show lol, I'll be happy to write something that doesn't fully come from my own thoughts:)

Saiki Kusuo never wanted to stand out. For as long as he could remember, he had tried his best to live a normal life—no small feat when you’re a psychic with powers that could bend reality. From mind reading to teleportation, he had long grown used to his strange abilities. But one thing he hadn’t quite figured out?

Dating.

It wasn’t like he couldn’t do it, or that he didn’t know how—he was psychic after all, he knew what people liked. But he wasn’t used to letting anyone close. That’s where you came in.

You had known about Saiki’s powers for a while now. Unlike the others, who couldn’t quite grasp the full extent of his abilities, you had seen through his attempts at acting normal and had accepted him, powers and all. And somehow, against all odds, he had started to care about you. Which is why you were both currently standing in front of a café, Saiki staring at the door with his usual deadpan expression while you smiled at him, trying to break the awkward tension.

"Saiki, you don’t have to look so stressed. It’s just coffee."

"I’m not stressed," he replied flatly, hands stuffed into his pockets. But you knew him well enough by now to understand that the tiniest shift in his demeanor—like the way he hadn't said anything telepathically yet—meant he was overthinking things.

"Are you reading my mind?" you asked, raising an eyebrow as you opened the door to the café.

"Of course not," he said, but the quick flicker in his eyes made it clear that he had.

"You could just ask me what I’m thinking, you know?" you teased, stepping inside. "It’s not like you need psychic powers for that."

Saiki sighed, giving a slight roll of his eyes. This wasn’t exactly his idea of a relaxing afternoon, but then again, things always seemed to get more complicated when you were involved. But not in a bad way. Not that he’d ever admit that out loud.

As you both found a small table by the window, Saiki sat down, resting his chin in his hand, gazing outside like he had zero interest in the conversation—typical. But beneath the surface, he was already calculating all the possible ways this could go wrong. There was the chance that Nendou could show up out of nowhere, or worse, Teruhashi might walk by, sparkly as ever, and cause a scene. He could also accidentally teleport away if things got too uncomfortable.

"Don’t worry," you said suddenly, pulling him back to reality. "This is a Teruhashi-free zone. She wouldn’t be caught dead at a small café like this."

He blinked, genuinely surprised that you had guessed his exact thought. Maybe he was rubbing off on you after all.

The two of you ordered your drinks, and for a moment, everything seemed…normal. The sun was shining through the window, casting a warm glow over the café, and you were sitting across from him, stirring your drink absentmindedly as you chatted about your day. Saiki couldn’t help but feel a little…content.

Until your spoon slipped and knocked your glass, spilling your drink all over the table. It was a tiny accident, the kind that happens all the time, but before you could even react, the entire scene rewound itself. Your hand was back on the spoon, your drink still perfectly intact, as if nothing had ever happened.

You looked up at Saiki, who was staring intently out the window again, trying to look innocent.

"Did you just rewind time?" you asked with a grin, already knowing the answer.

"No," Saiki muttered, still avoiding eye contact.

"Sure, you didn’t," you said, amusement dancing in your eyes. "Thanks for saving me from the embarrassment, though."

He finally turned to face you, his lips twitching slightly in what might have been an attempt at a smile, but of course, it was gone in a second. For someone who was so eager to keep things normal, he really did go out of his way to make sure you were comfortable.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" he asked, switching to telepathy this time, his voice echoing in your mind with a hint of nervousness.

"I’m just happy," you replied, leaning forward slightly. "I know you don’t like things being unpredictable, but you always manage to make things better without even trying."

Saiki didn’t reply for a moment, unsure how to respond to that. His life had always been about avoiding attention, about blending in. Yet, here he was, dating someone who knew exactly how abnormal he was and still stuck around. Maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t so bad after all.

"I guess it’s not a complete disaster," he thought, careful to keep the thought from reaching you. But you caught a glimpse of it anyway, your smile widening.

You rested your hand on the table, close enough to his, and for a split second, you thought he might actually reach out and take it. Instead, he simply looked at you with that unreadable expression of his and said, "Let’s just finish our drinks before something weird happens."

You laughed, nodding in agreement. It was a typical Saiki thing to say, and yet, beneath all of his reluctance, you knew he cared about you more than he let on.

And that was more than enough.

[haikyuucollective]

Part 2/? - The "World" and His "Star"

Hi again! We're back with Akaashi and his lovely thoughts. Last time we left off on akaashis first encounter with Bokuto, and I'd like to pick up right where we left off.

After being starstruck by Bokuto, we see akaashi showing up to the Fukurodani volleyball team tryouts, showing wordlessly how he decided to choose Fukurodani between the two high schools he was pondering over attending. While his choice may have been partially influenced by the fact that he has received a scholarship from Fukurodani, it was obvious that even with that knowledge he had still been on the fence; however, seeing a certain someone on the court seemingly gave him that final push.

We see how Bokuto takes an immediate interest in Akaashi as well, most likely thanks to the fact that he mentions his position as a setter. Without hearing anything else, he jumps to ask Akaashi to help him practice, to which Akaashi agrees to. They seem to practice for hours* due to a panel directly showing the darkness outside of the gym. However, this fact doesn't seem to bother Bokuto, the thumping of the Mikasa balls slamming onto the ground highlighted.

*Akaashi is seen mopping the floors when Bokuto approaches him, implying that their practice had already ended as they were cleaning up. The sky is shown in the background as well, signifying it still being day. It goes to show that this practice was not during club hours at all, but rather it being extra work the two chose to do voluntarily for hours on end. These guys were practicing for a *while*.

I'd also like to remind everyone that Akaashi is a fresh first year! As stated earlier in the chapter, Akaashi isnt a player that particularly stands out. He also wasn't someone who was particularly motivated with volleyball either, unlike Bokuto here. This practice must've drained him to hell and back, especially since he was participating in it with Bokuto of all people.

And, of course, it did. We see poor Akaashi, hunched over and tired, quietly validating Bokuto while internally screaming. Also, Bokuto is still pronouncing his name wrong and I find that silly.

However, despite his about-to-pass-out composure, Akaashis mood visibly lighten when Bokuto compliments him.

Having his inner monologue more longer and advanced than what he actually speaks is an interesting characteristic of Akaashis. From the readers perspective Akaashi had always seemed more calm and slightly reserved, his face usually passive. Being able to read from his perspective and see what he's truly thinking opens doors for Akaashis character; we now know that he isn't just someone who's quiet, but he's moreso someone who is selective of what he says. When he gives his thanks to Bokuto, he's not simply saying thanks to be polite. He genuinely does thank Bokuto for his compliment.

Seemingly the day after their practice, or perhaps after multiple had already taken place, Komi and Konoha come by Akaashis classroom to inform him that he didn't have to play with Bokuto if he didn't want to.

However, Akaashi politely takes down their offer claiming that, "Its actually rather fun to practice with a star player"(furudate 331) to Konohas and Komis dismay. They even go so far as to ask if akaashi is "also a secret weirdo,"(furudate 331) which is hilarious.

The topic of Akaashi being a secret weirdo is actually(no suprise here) very interesting to me. This could be because it fits Akaashis character extremely well, with his cool exterior being the ultimate camouflage to hide his 'weirdness', although most likely not on purpose.

As I would love to continue writing, my eyes are drooping and I feel a power nap needing to clock in. Please stay tuned for the next part coming very soon!

P.S. sorry for no indents. Tumblr hates me

Citations

Furudate, Haruichi. "Haikyu!!" Shounen Jump, April 4th 2019, vol. 37 Chapter 331

[sgiandubh]

Hi, I don't know if you understand me or go through this, I would like to know your feeling about it.

After all this circus (which I can't take anymore and after a few years in the fandom) I can't stand Caitríona anymore. I swear I try, I swear I try to get excited about her projects. I swear I try to understand her reasons, her anger, her antipathy towards us all these years. For a long time I managed to suppress this sad feeling I feel for her, but now it screams. I can not anymore.

On the other hand, I still support Sam, even more than I should, because he, along with her, plays the main role in the narrative and is not a saint. I think these feelings would be the signal to leave the ship. I no longer admire her, I no longer miss her, at least on social media, I no longer even want to see her face.

I feel bad for feeling this way, I don't know what to do. Have you ever felt like that? And before you start offending me, I'll tell you: I'm not anti, only or whatever. I am someone who paid a lot of attention to this narrative and ended up hurt, very hurt by them, by her specially…

Dear Feel Bad Anon,

I was just about to go to bed after a very, very long and dense day, but your question stopped me in my tracks. Story of my life, really: that banging on the dorm's door at midnight ('it's vile X, we just broke up, help') - ah, the memories. So, I will not let you down.

First of all, thank you for this ask. It is a genuine one, I know it. It takes a lot of honesty to write it down without cackle, hysteria and the everlasting 'they owe me' refrain (no, they don't owe anybody anything, because, Anon, do you owe anybody anything when you are that much in love? I am sure you don't give a hoot about Aunt Y and Neighbor Z, Anon, and fuck them and their curiosity, eh?). And, my goodness, you really do sound exhausted, here.

Take a good look at this pic I took in Mandalay (see post below) of a Yama Zatdaw (Ramayana) puppet show:

All these public ten years are summed up in here: the puppeteers (TPTB), the puppets (S&C) and the convenient prop ( T) in the middle.

Where are the private ten years? I could think of this Amarapura pic, taken the day after the puppet show:

And that is ok, Anon. It's them. Their lives. Their love. We are just peepers through a keyhole, in here: let's try and do it gracefully.

You don't like C anymore? S couldn't give a damn about how you feel, Anon, and forgive me if I sound brutal. He loves her and he already did the unthinkable for her. C does give a damn about you, however. Not because she cares about you, but because she probably thinks your intelligence and your questioning endanger her narrative and put at risk all the negotiated perks. This is why she thought intelligent to bark at you and publicly insult you: by a simple zealot reflex, her part of the bargain. It has nothing to do with her private truth. You are disappointed by a puppet, not the real C. Or, using this time Plato's Allegory of the Cave, you are mad at the silhouettes reflected on the walls of that cave, not at the people whose reflections you see - those people are outside the cave.

Get out of that mental cave, Anon. Stop racking your brains off trying to give definitive answers that cannot be honestly given with the amount of information we have. Stop obsessing about a visibly curated social media presence, online times and all this shit - they mean very little, especially at this point in time. Trust your heart and your intuition. Trust your life experience. Trust yourself, not me. All this side of the fandom can offer you is based on our own life paths and street smarts. Do I think it's legit? Of course, otherwise I'd not be here or I'd be a pervert. Do I think that together we'd be a step closer to what really is? Oh, by all means. But you are the only sovereign master of the course, here. You are the only one able to choose between believing or rejecting, staying on deck or jumping ship.

I chose to be interested in the puppeteers, Anon. The paper trail. The minute intricacies. The boring details Mordor does not want to see or doesn't know how to translate in simple English. That is really what keeps me going and that is something I will never publicly trade. The more I look into it, the clearer the picture is. Oh, for sure, I take great pleasure in seeing and discussing the script inconsistencies - don't we all? But to me and as I see it, this is the tip of the iceberg. The bar I set myself for public happenings, statements and all the shit show is very low. It avoids undue disappointment and even allows me to be relaxed about it. Not always. Not a perfect strategy. But it is my way of managing it and so far, it works.

Take at least a day off Tumblr. Think of it as detox. I can guarantee you will see it way clearer. I wish you well, Anon. And I really hope my long, long answer helped at least a little bit.

[theangelcatalogue]

Saw you request post could you write some Yandere Scott Summers for us please. I love x-men evolution and there is only one other person who writes for them and I am at my wits end trying to find more x-men content, thank you have a good day.

୨ৎ―PROTECTION(AND JEALOUS) ꩜ .ᐟ || YANDERE SCOTT X READER

୨୧┇ Oneshot!

୨୧┇ Romantic/Platonic!

୨୧┇ Gender Neutral!

୨୧┇ Pov character(s): Scott and Author(me :D)!

୨୧┇TW: JEALOUS BEHAVIOR, PROTECTIVE BEHAVIOR, BAD GRAMMAR, BAD ENGLISH , POSSIBLE OOC AND MADE BY A MINOR!! TELL ME IF I MISSED SOMETHING!

ˏˋ⋆ SUMMARY ⋮.. !?

๋୨୧┇Scott is and always was a protective and strict person with his loved ones, that's not a surprise

୨୧┇But with you, he was more! Like, REALLY

୨୧┇It was no surprise he liked you

୨୧┇But It had a thing, sometimes he felt another thing for you, no, for people next to you

୨୧┇Jealous.

ˏˋ⋆ AUTHOR ⋮.. !?

If Scott got a nickel for every time you went out with Duncan, he would have two, which isn't much, but it's strange that it happened twice, since seeing you talk and go out with Duncan was too much for him.

Duncan asked you out once, and you accepted out of politeness? Genuine interest? Boredom? You don't really know, but you accepted and discovered that Duncan wasn't so bad to hang out with (despite being the perfect jock stereotype), and after that, he wanted to interact with you more, and yesterday you went out with him again.

Was Scott jealous? Yes, after all Duncan and Scott don't get along.

But it got to the point where Duncan was sending you flowers! Always with a little note from him, which Scott was happy to give you (the flowers, without the note).

Now waiting for you outside the school to leave as normal is something he enjoys (not that he didn't before), even though other people left with you, it was just you and Scott, without Duncan.

He looks around, no sign of you, you're just taking a while, that's all, then when you arrive, everyone will leave for the institute.

He looks around again, it wasn't you, but it was Kitty, you two talk a lot so maybe she knows why you're taking so long.

"Hey Kitty! Have you seen Y/n?"

Scott asks calmly, a simple question

"Ah! She's going somewhere with Duncan! "

Kitty replied, getting into the car

Ah.

So you're going out with Duncan? Really?

Scott felt his blood boil, jealous? Why? You and Duncan are just two colleagues going out together.

Plim

New message, Scott picks up his phone

New message from Y/N, the app shows

He opens the message

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Y/N: I'm going out with Duncan! No need to worry, he'll take me to the institute later, we won't be here for so many time!

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Scott thought about what to say, how he wanted to say that you couldn't go out with Duncan

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Scott: Really? Duncan?

Y/N: Yes, why?

Scott: I don't know, he's a bit of an asshole

Y/N: Yeah, I know, but he's kind of nice to hang out with when he's not an asshole!

Scott: Him not being an asshole? That's rare.

Y/N: I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, Scott! It was last minute, I couldn't say no to him! He insisted a lot, and I'm a people-pleaser...

Scott: Oh, you could have said no.

Y/N: Did something happen? I feel you're in a bad mood

Scott: It's just that I don't trust this guy, what if he tries something with you?

Y/N: He wouldn't, I think! You don't have to worry, if he tries I can defend myself

Scott: But I don't know, what if something goes wrong? I worry about you

Y/N: If something happens i will deal with that, relax! Also i can't go away now, we're getting there

Scott: And where are you two going?

Y/N: Oh, we're going to that hill with the nice view, you know? It's a really relaxing place!

Scott: Oh, Okay

Y/N: Don't worry ok? Bye!

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Scott put the phone back in his pocket and finally got into the car, turning it on.

ˏˋ⋆ SCOTT ⋮.. !?

" Hey man? Are you okay? Did something happen?

Evan asks me, was I so distracted that I didn't see Evan coming and got into the car?

"What happened? Don't make us curious! "

Kurt also asked, is he already here? I was distracted talking to Y/N

"Nothing."

I replied, nothing's happening, everything's normal

"Y/N is going out with Duncan and he doesn't like it! "

Kitty answered Evan and Kurt, I didn't like it...

Okay, I don't like it, but Y/N and Duncan? Going out together? Why?

They even likes him?

" Oh~! I think Scott is jealous! "

Kurt said playful, i'm not jealous, i am just a little protective, because what if that asshole hurts Y/N?

" Hey Scott, relax! Y/N can defend themself, also you should be less protective! "

Really Evan? I don't think

I mean

Being protective is not bad.

୨୧┇ NOTES ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

୨ৎ Erm, here it is, bad i know-

୨ৎ I LOVE X MEN EVOLUTION SO MUCH I-

୨ৎ I am writing for Brotherhood too! (they are so silly)

୨ৎ Damn i had a HUGE crush on Scott when i was a kid (maybe i still have)

୨ৎ Sorry if this is short, OOC and dind't make any sense-

୨ৎ Idk what to say now, but ily you guys

[let-us-cultivate-our-garden]

I’m starting to wonder if you should be a bit more particular in what asks you answer, as well as highlight some rules on what people can ask, especially regarding drama content or anything to do with The Owl House. Hell, as an anon myself, I’d even HIGHLY suggest disabling anon asks, even if only temporarily.

I suggest this because I genuinely wish to look out for your well being, and I think some of the asks, although out of curiosity or politically induced and genuine despair, are crossing some personal boundaries that should be made quite clear. You’re not anyone’s therapist, nor are you the sole critical voice of the owl show, nor do you owe anyone valuable time, effort, and energy to think through, articulate, and post arguments about fictional television shows that they need to put more effort into doing themselves, to develop their own critical thinking and media literacy skills.

You have a valuable and rare talent on a social media website that loudly exposes uncritical viewpoints, in a sea of social media that do the same things. Tumblr does benefit from being one of the few remaining long form social media’s out there, but that doesn’t change that people’s reading comprehension skills are at an all time low. I don’t want to see your lovely and bright flame burnt out trying to nail floor boards on a ship that’s already quite sunk, trying to fix a large and wide scale problem that goes beyond children’s entertainment, that’s well beyond any one person’s ability to fix.

You’ve already done more than enough, already made your points crystal clear, and already said all you can about the owl show. If you need to, take some time away from it and focus on other interests of yours, even if that means unfollowing or even blocking a few people and tags, even Philip related things.

You don’t owe it to anyone to explain yourself until you’re blue in the face. It’s time to give yourself a much needed break and focus on yourself for a change.

I hope I’ve made it clear that this ask comes out of a genuine place of gentle concern, but feel free to say if I’ve got the wrong impression. It’s difficult to read a situation on the outside looking in, and even on the inside looking out (believe me I’ve been there!). I hope you take some time away from the hellsites and find new things to have fun with. In times like these, more than ever we need people like you to conserve the spark they have and focus it on things that really matter in the long term, and on things that make them and those they care for happy!

Thank you for the concern, anon. And for the compliments, that really means a lot to me. It's funny because I'm already blocking tags/people and not answering every single ask I receive. If I do respond to an ask, it's because I have something to say about it. Although, truth be told, I'm starting to feel like a broken record with toh and wish people would ask me something else for a change. That's honestly more frustrating than someone venting over politics. Seriously, check my non-toh tags, I have other stuff!

(Blanket statements for all future toh asks: it's mid. fans overhype everything. writing is inconsistent and underwhelming. the cancellation is not the reason for its problems. stop projecting onto a children's show. watch more shows that aren't aimed at 7 year olds.)

You don't need to worry about me; I have a pretty healthy offline-online balance. 👍