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tiyawnyana · 23 hours ago

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Hey hey heyyy!

I actually love avatar too! I’m counting down the days until Avatar 3 comes out so I can watch it a million times <3

Anyway, I was hoping you could do headcannons of Viktor x councillor!reader who is an advocate for building up the Undercity so it gets to Piltover level if that makes sense. (Basically just wanting equality within the two districts)

Thank yeww!

-🎐 anon

Thank you for the request!!! (I mightve gone a little off track) Gaaaah I love me some good quality characters that wear their heart on their sleeves. Also I cannot wait for avatar 3!! I fear everyone around me will hate me bc that is all I will be talking about

A/N: two fics two days in a row?? A Christmas miracle

Characters: Viktor x Counselor!Reader

Warnings: nothing explicit—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

Heart

You took over the counselor position after your Uncle, Torman Hoskel, retired.

You got into politics for the sole purpose of giving equality to those less fortunate. You were a black sheep of sorts, in comparison to your other family members

you were seen as childish- bright eyed and naive, but you played your cards closely and carefully, much like one Medarda (she too realized this)

It was earlier on into the beginning of the age of Hextech, Jayce Talis and his partner, Viktor from the Undercity were becoming the faces of the future.

People mainly only acknowledged Jayce, but you often sought out Viktor as well, including him on the conversations with the progress of Hextech

You gave Viktor the equal respect and admiration as Jayce received from everyone, and that surprised Viktor- a welcome surprise, thankfully

Over time, you built a steady, healthy friendship with him and Jayce, genuinely happy and enthralled with the progress and creations they made over the years

At first, Viktor thought your actions were none other than another counselor wanting Hextech in their pocket-

He was mistaken and he's glad of it, you never came in with that as your goal

You first poach the idea of installing something of good use to the undercity to Jayce in private, hoping for him to take the hint to speed things along.

His best friend, his partner in Hextech after all, was from Zaun. Viktor deserved to see their creations be used to help his people.

You advocated for Zaun more as time went on, acknowledging the name that the people have given their home. You brought in infrastructure ideas, growing more and more agitated as your ideas kept being pushed to the back burner.

This got you into arguments- Many arguments with the other counselors but you refused to bend. Counselor Heimerdinger remained neutral, not able to see that his people were starving in the undercity, suffering and ill ridden despite his prodigy being a product of that environment. You appreciated Heimerdinger for everything he's done, but came to the realization that it wasn't enough.

word of uprisings and crime lords gaining power in the Undercity after all the things that happened 5 years prior (the explosion at Jayce’s, the one down by the southern docks, the death of the ‘Hound’, Vander); it all gained your attention more

You had called for a meeting with the other counselors the night you returned, bringing your own collected vile of what was called Shimmer. The purple, glimmery fluid almost glowed, pulsing with light as you placed it before Counselor Heimerdinger.

“I’m afraid I must be completely honest and blunt here,” you usher to the vile,

“This is the product of our blatant disregard of our people in the Undercity.”

Counselor Salo scoffs, rolling his eyes and spewing some vile insinuations of ‘heathens’ and ‘animals’.

You ignore him, standing in the middle of the circular table,”I commend Counselor Kirammans house for commissioning the pipes in the lower parts of the Undercity to give them safe, proper air to breathe,” you nod to the woman,”But this is not enough. The people deserve more. They need our support, our protection-“

You don’t realize that Jayce and Viktor have been summoned, approaching the room and being let in halfway through your rant.

Viktor is surprised-

“These people have dug their own grave- they start riots and spew violence-”

“Only because they've been backed into a corner, Salo!” You shout, walking closer to his seat and therefore cornering him, despite the barrier of the table,”Anyone will do what they can to protect themselves, their families, from violence.”

You stand up straight, looking around the table. The counselors either look away or face you, a scowl on their lips.

“We are supposed to protect our people, not bury them underground with no hopes to getting out,” you usher to the vile once more,”This is what our lack of protection and equality does to them. Strips them of their lives. They're constantly in fear or struck by illness or addiction, all because we've been turning a blind eye. It's no wonder they've been rioting- it's the only thing that has gotten your attention!”

You glance over to Counselor Shoola, at least hoping she would acknowledge it but you're surprised to see Jayce and Viktor in the entryway.

“This meeting is adjourned,” Counselor Heimerdinger speaks out, beckoning the two in the entryway in.

You send a scathing glare at them all before storming out.

Viktor finds you a few hours later on the terrace above the gardens.

He's quiet, his cane the only form of noise as he approaches. There's a brisk chill to the air, moon high above the clouds cascading a cool glow along the flowers below.

He sighs, leaning against the banister, gazing down below before drifting his eyes back up to the sky

You huff out a soft sigh, head bowing in exhaustion,”They're all idiots.”

He laughs softly, nodding in agreement as he peers over at you,”Yeah- yeah, they can be.”

You bring your head up, frustration in your brow,”I just- how can these people be so stuck up? I get that my head was in the dirt for a while- but I learned and I'm trying to make things right-”

“You're using your status and position to do good,” he murmurs, leaning on his elbow and facing you,”That's more than any of them can say, honestly.”

You glance over at him with a sorrowful look,”What if that isn't enough? I'm doing all that I can, I've started production in the lower mines to clear out the old piping-”

Viktor shakes his head at that, hesitating for a moment before reaching out to place his hand over yours,”Even speaking it aloud does something. Your actions alone have proven that, don't think I haven't heard you giving ideas to Jayce for the undercity while I wasn't there.”

He smirks at you and you huff.

“Just keep doing what you're doing, I'm right there with you and I know Jayce is too,” he reassures softly.

You nod quietly, peering down below,”I hope I haven't squandered my position.”

“I don't think you have, and honestly,” he steps closer,”I don't think you will anytime soon. Your seat in that chamber is important for Piltover's Infrastructure- I'd say you hold more cards than Shoola or Salo.”

You roll your eyes with a fond huff,”Now, I doubt that-”

“Don't,” he speaks firm but careful,”You have what they don't seem to-”

You raise a brow,”And what would that be?”

He's silent for such a brief moment, eyes flicking across your face before he smiles softly,”A heart.”

Your face warms, surprisingly, and you attempt to brush it off with a sarcastic laugh.

“Considering one of them is made of metal-”

“I mean it,” he steps closer, and suddenly you feel his warmth,”You have a heart- full of fire and care for people you haven't even met-”

He cups your forearm,”You were kind to me without scorn, even when we first met.”

You're silent, gaze drifting down to his hand holding your arm. Your heart is thundering away in your chest,”It's not difficult to be kind.”

“For some, it is,” he murmurs, his warm eyes drifting over your face, urging you to look at him,”But you never wavered.”

You bring your gaze back up to his, almost taken aback by the genuine smile on his lips.

He brushes back a stray hair, tucking it behind your ear and cupping your cheek tenderly, pulling you in.

You almost think he's going to kiss you, but instead presses his forehead against yours, sighing softly.

“Keep using your voice,” he murmurs,”They're sure to listen eventually.”

You lean into his hold, hand moving to cup his elbow softly as you nod quietly.

He's the one to pull back, another surprise, but doesn't let you pull away completely- instead peering at you with a soft, but questioning gaze, eyes moving down to your lips before trailing back up to yours.

You nod, nose brushing his as he slots his lips over yours.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

A/N: requests are still open!

#arcane #arcane fanfic #arcane league of legends #fanfic #arcane fic #viktor x reader #viktor fanfic #viktor lol #viktor league of legends #viktor arcane #viktor x you

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ohmybueckers · 3 days ago

Text

Never Strangers: Chapter Two

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: drinking, author who is terrible about being consistent with tenses, incredibly down bad main characters (be gentle with Paige and Maya guys, the first love WLW situationship breakup is ROUGH)

Authors note: Not sure exactly how I feel about this chapter, but I feel like it gives a decent amount of context. Prepare for more flashbacks next chapter. Also this is highkey not proofread so … approach with caution there.

August 26, 2023

The drive from Stamford to Storrs is about two hours, traffic permitting. My mom waits approximately 20 minutes before she begins the inevitable interrogation session into the state of my life. More specifically, the train wreck it has become.

“You know, I really think you should consider rejoining mock trial. You loved it for so long, and look how many friends you made.” She rambles, her eyes never leaving I-95. “You probably would have never met Brooke if you hadn’t joined mock trial.”

Brooke and I met as co-counselors at a mock trial summer intensive for high schoolers at Yale the summer after my freshman year of college. Turns out trying to keep track of a bunch of hormonal fifteen year olds is a bonding experience like no other. She quickly became my formerly long-distance best friend and very soon-to-be roommate.

“I told you, I’ll check it out when I get there.” I say, half telling the truth and half just trying to get her to change the subject. Clearly, my attempt was failing.

“I just want to make sure you’re making the most of college. I know University of Minnesota was not your thing, but I want you to find your why when it comes to Connecticut.”

I sighed. One of the perks of having a therapist as a mother is that you always have someone to listen to your petty problems without judgement. The downside is that she’s always trying to dig deeper, even when I really do not want to. “My why is being close to you. Plus, UConn is close enough to New York.”

“And close to Paige.” This remark nearly makes me choke.

“Mom!”

“Sorry, sorry!” She quickly apologizes, though knowing her she knew damn well what kind of reaction she would receive. I never told her full details of what actually went down between us - maybe because I thought it would be too embarrassing, or maybe because I knew that if she ended up in my mom’s bad graces, there was no coming back from that. All she knew is that at one point we were friends, then we were more than friends, and then things got messed up and we don’t talk anymore. She also knows that I really don’t like talking about it with her. “Does she know you’re coming?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know, I didn’t tell her.”

The last text I had sent Paige was shortly after the basketball player announced she tore her ACL. Despite the tension between us, it felt wrong to say nothing in these circumstances. Basketball was Paige’s world, and I couldn’t even fathom the grief she must have felt. I received a “thank you maya, i hope you’re doing well. miss u” in return. It took everything in me not to call the blonde after reading the last five letters.

Thankfully, my moms line of questioning ends there, and she returns to the driving playlist we made together the night before, an eclectic mix of 80’s hits with the occasional R&B ballad. Occasionally I hear her sing along, letting the crack of fresh air from the car window flow through her almost-black hair. Some people say I’m basically her twin: same dark hair, dark eyes, olive skin, and short stature. I just wish I got a fraction of her curves.

The rest of the car ride, I alternate between reading the newest Emily Henry book and messaging Brooke, who has been sending me updates on our new apartment. She moved into a couple of days ago while my mom and I were still on our girls trip to New York City, and her texts ranged from “ill give you the room with the ensuite bathroom if i can have the bigger room” (deal) to “our neighbors are FINE” (knowing her taste in men, doubtful).

After what feels like too long in the car (maybe I never actually got over my tendency to get carsick), we pull into a lot. there it is: My new apartment, a small building surrounded by others similar to it and tall trees, still wrapped in vibrant green hues untouched by the incoming fall. I hear a yell from across the lot as I step out, but I’m so overwhelmed by the new sensations in Storrs that it takes my brain a moment to process that the tall figure running across the lot with a truly impressive speed was my best friend.

Brooke barrels towards me, wrapping me in a hug that nearly tips me over. “About time you got here!” She grabs my shoulders, her white acrylics a comfortably familiar sensation on my skin, before turning to my mom with her award-winning smile. “It’s so good to finally meet you! I’m Brooke. Wow, you could have convinced me you two were sisters. You’re gonna have to give me your skincare routine before you leave.” She gestures to my mom, who giggles. I can tell that her day has been made.

I will never fail to tell Brooke Jones that she is perhaps the most charismatic person I have ever met. When I’m in Mock Trial, I will fight to make my voice heard. Outside of the courtroom, however, I tend to lean on the more reserved side. On the first day of counselor training, it was as if she could sniff out how nervous I was and made it her personal mission to befriend me. And one thing about Brooke: she will make you talk. Somehow I don’t mind it as much when I’m with her.

So it’s a great sight when Brooke and my mom trail ahead of me, hands filled with various decor items and chatting (I think I hear one of them mention bringing out photos of me in seventh grade, an action I know I will have to intercept later for my own sanity).

About three hours later, with the hard work of the three of us supplemented by SZA’s discography, my space is set up just enough to where I can sleep comfortably for the next few nights. Brooke pulls my mom in first, after getting her phone number “for emergencies”. Next, it’s my turn.

“Alright, you know what I’m about to say.”

“We’re not going to throw a party, I know you’re worried about the security deposit.” Behind my mom’s shoulder, I could see Brooke’s brows furrow as she mouthed don’t promise that.

“No, I meant have fun. Take risks. Find your why,” She grabs my shoulders at the last word for emphasis, and it’s hard to believe that this is my real life and not some after school motivational special.

We embrace one last time. Despite her cheesy moments, I am reminded just how much I’m going to miss seeing my mom every day. After three years of being in closer proximity to my dad, it was nice to spend the summer in Stamford, my days filled with NYT crossword games by the water and day trips into New York City. This summer solidified that it didn’t even need to be Boston - I was just happier on the east coast.

“I like your mom, she’s sweet.” I hear Brooke say as we watch the white Toyota leave the parking lot from our third floor window. Our view is perfect, and I picture what it will be like to watch the leaves change from it as the semester goes on. It makes the last few hours of lugging furniture and suitcases up flights of stairs worth it.

“I love her when she’s not trying to psychoanalyze every decision I make,” I chuckle, moving to continue unpacking some miscellaneous items in the kitchen.

Brooke follows me. “Is that what that whole ‘find your why’ thing was about?”

“Got a whole interrogation in the car. Everyone in my family thinks I’m having some sort of crisis,” I place a stack of plates (a gift from my mom’s boyfriend) in a cabinet. “She even suggested I came here for Paige.”

Brooke stands there, her lips falling into a flat line. She is taking far too long to respond for my preference. My jaw falls, eyes widening. “Stop.”

Brooke lifts her hands in surrender. “Ok, I would be lying if I said it hasn’t crossed my mind.”

My head falls into my hand, fingers pinching the bridge of my nose as my eyes shut. “I swear to god, why does everyone think I chose to go to UConn because of Paige?”

“Maybe because other people definitely have.” Ok, Brooke does have a point. While I have done everything in my power to not think about the blonde, everyone else has been increasingly trying to get in her orbit. I’ve even seen a handful of edits made for her in the past few months as people anticipate her first season back from her injury.

I shake my head. “I’m not that dumb. I’m here for-“

“In-state tuition and to be closer to me and your mom, I know.” Brooke finishes, coming around to wrap one arm around me. It’s her way to both apologize and check in on me. While I appreciate the gesture, a small part of me feels guilty - like I have gotten use to people extending pity to me for one reason or another: my parent’s divorce, the move to Minnesota, Paige, transferring schools. It gets to a point where I just want to win at something.

I lean into her embrace, smelling the citrus in her hair product. “I know I was down bad for a while, but I promise I’m fine.”

I feel Brooke nod above me. “Good, because she’s kinda everywhere on campus. Even if you don’t run into her, people don’t shut up about her.” This was to be expected, a fact I have been preparing myself for months for. I decided it’s just something I’m going to have to get used to, like many things in life.

“Well, why don’t we shut up about Paige and order some food. I’m starving,” I exclaim, moving towards my phone to pull up Doordash. Perhaps my first win can be proving to people that I can thrive at UConn and absolutely not fixate on Paige Bueckers.

“Okay, okay. You good if we invite my cousin Adria to come over too? She’s chill I swear.” I remember Brooke telling me about Adria last summer, how she was entering her freshman year at `UConn at the time. I nod in agreement, excited to host my first get together in my new space.

////

Just an hour and a half later, the three of us are sat in the sparsely furnished living room, eating pad thai surrounded by a large collection of boxes. Upon one look at Adria when she stepped through our front door, I could tell her and Brooke were related: both had the same long legs, clear deep complexion and white smiles that looked like they belonged on billboards. Where they differed was in dress: while Brooke wore the same blue sweat set that she helped me unpack in, Adria was dressed in a simple pair of jeans and a boho white tank top, a cascade of black and blonde braids down her back and an “A” necklace around her neck.

Adria is only a sophomore, and yet from the first hour I have known her she appears far more put together than I was at this time last year. It’s evident in the way she talks about her pre-professional sorority, or in the way she talks about getting ahead of internship applications for the next summer. It would almost be irritating if she wasn’t also so charming.

“So what brought you to UConn?” Adria asks me from the other end of the couch.

“Well, I tried U of M. My dad and his new girlfri… new wife,” The correction felt bitter on my tongue in a way that made me feel guilty. “They live out there, so I got in-state. It just wasn’t for me. I decided to transfer here just in case I still want to go to law school, since my mom lives in-state and I don’t want to go further in debt than I need to.”

“What do you mean if you still want to go to law school?” Brooke questions, her face incredulous. “Wasn’t that your whole plan since you were in, like, fourth grade?”

I love Brooke with everything in me, on the deepest platonic soulmate level there is. I tell her everything - except for the fact that I don’t know if I still want to practice law outside of college. I guess if I said it out loud to her, the girl who I once dreamed of going to law school with, practicing in the same city with before opening a shared practice, it would become more real: that I was seemingly blowing up all I’ve known with no plan B. She already thinks me dropping mock trial is some sign of an incoming mental breakdown.

“I’m just… exploring all of my options.” I muster, though from the furrow in Adria’s brow it must not be as believable as I would have hoped. Judging by the way Brooke’s shoulders appeared to relax, however, it at least worked on her. Eager to switch the attention off of myself, I turn to the younger girl once more. “Adria, what are you studying?”

“I’m kinesiology, trying to become a physical therapist. Maybe do some athletic training?”

Brooke chokes back a laugh, waving her hand. “She’s just saying that because she’s fucking someone on the basketball team.”

If there’s one similarity between Adria and I, it’s the way both of our jaws drop at Brooke’s candor. Her cousin seems particularly taken off guard, throwing her hands up with a, “Jesus Christ, Brooke!”

I can’t help but laugh at the dynamic. “Who is he?”

“She’s on the women’s team.” The word she rings in my ears as my cheeks get hot with embarrassment. I’m literally a lesbian, I thought she was above assuming sexuality based on looks after having it done to me throughout the summer by daddy’s money frat guys in Stamford. Adria scratched the back of her neck, her cheeks flushing. “Um, KK Arnold?”

I’ve only seen the name in passing, during a late night scan of the women’s basketball roster that I would never admit to. KK was the new recruit from Wisconsin to my memory … or was it Indiana?

“She got a job with athletics over the summer. Somehow her and KK crossed paths and they’ve been hooking up since.” Brooke took a bite of her noodles between sentences, filling in the gaps that Adria left.

“We haven’t even had sex, chill.” Adria held a hand up to her sister, but the shy look never left her face. “KK’s nice though. I think I could really like her, which totally sucks because basketball players aren’t exactly the relationship type.”

“Looks like you both have the same type.” Brooke says through another bite.

Silence falls on the room, followed by a confused “What?” from Adria.

A part of me wants to be frustrated with Brooke for bringing it up - the last thing I want is to be known at UConn as just a girl who got with the basketball star. However, Adria seems like a kind person, and she did just confide in me about KK. Part of me feels like I owe her an explanation in some sick way. With a sigh, I give her the context. “Brooke is giving me shit because a long time ago, in high school, I kinda had a thing with Paige Bueckers.”

The younger girl looks at me for a beat as if she can’t believe the words that just came out of my mouth. Once she gets a minute to reboot, she explodes “Like Paige Bueckers Paige Bueckers?Holy shit!”

“Don’t say anything, it was a really, really long time ago,” I plea, recognizing that she was acquainted to one of her teammates. Oh god, the last thing I need is KK telling Paige that her … whatever Adria was … told her that her sister’s friend is still hung up on her or something.

“I won’t, I promise.” Adria holds both hands up, a move that must be genetic. “You’re not gonna hit her up now that you’re on her campus?”

“Yeah, I’ll pass,” I say, taking a bite of my own food. I try to ignore the way my stomach flips at how Adria claimed the entirety of University of Connecticut as belonging to Paige somehow. As if there was no room for me. “She may be great at basketball, but that girl does not do emotions.”

“Well, I’m not exactly surprised.” Adria shrugs. My head snaps back up, and Brooke shoots her cousin a pointed look.

“What do you mean?”

Adria continues, “I mean, its not a secret Paige kinda has a reputation here.”

So much for not fixating on Paige Bueckers. My mind races as I ask, “What kind of reputation?” although based on her tone and the context, I can make my own educated guesses.

“She just gets with a lot of girls on campus.” Adria speaks slowly, her expression somehow guilty. “My freshman year roommates friend got with her. Said she slept with her one night and never talked to her again.”

It’s not like I had no clue that Paige had no issue moving on from me once she got to Storrs. For one, she didn’t seem to have an issue doing such a thing when we were together in the first place. She had also heard rumors through the grapevine at school during her senior year, with people saying that they knew someone whose sister was friends with someone who got with Paige or some outlandish connection like that. Hearing confirmation from someone in Storrs somehow made it more confirmed in my mind. That all Paige wants is to kiss as many girls as possible, touch as many girls as possible, fuck as many girls as possible. Maybe that’s why she started acting so cold and things fell apart. Maybe that’s why I wasn’t enough for her, I can’t help my mind from thinking bitterly.

“Can’t say I’m surprised.” I force myself to breeze past the conversation, knowing that I cannot dwell on the past again. After a year or two of trying to figure out where everything went wrong, I have long since realized that there is nothing else to decode. I preferred to think of Paige as a painful memory that I’ve locked far, far away - it was just easier that way. “Who wants to watch a show?”

“You good, Maya?” Brooke asks, a small smile on her face. I know she feels guilty for bringing it up in the first place. But really, I have no reason to be mad: I was the one who ended things, and years ago at that. Being hung up over Paige Bueckers was ridiculous at this point.

“Yeah.” I answer, my voice more sharp than I intended. Fuck. Shaking my head as if to shake off any sort of doubts in their mind, I smile as I stand and walk towards the kitchen. “Believe me when I say I do not care what that girl does. She can do what she wants, and so can I. And what I want right now is to drink some prosecco and watch the Bachelorette.”

The sight of me pulling out the bottle of wine seems to strip Brooke of her doubts, because she agrees with a “Hell yeah, lets do it.”

Thankfully, once the TV is on we all settle into a groove of gossiping about strangers on our TV, not the very real people in our lives. Brooke in particular is enthralled, even though I had to beg her for weeks last summer to give the show a try. Even Adria chimes in as the two contestants cry over these men with a yell of “stand the fuck up!” I am quickly reminded in this moment that these two girls are, in fact, related. At one point in the night, Adria whips out her phone and snaps a photo of Brooke and I, grinning under a pile of throw blankets with our wine glasses in hand, an act I fail to question. After all, she had been checking her phone sporadically throughout the night.

Soon enough, we catch up on the past two episodes, our heads buzzing with the wine we consumed and our eyes struggling to stay awake as we say our goodbyes for the night. Adria pulls me into a hug, my head surrounded by the scent of her vanilla perfume as she whispers, “I’m so sorry about saying that stuff about Paige. You should know you… you absolutely did not deserve that shit, whatever she did. For the record, I think you’re awesome and that its completely her loss.”

I smile, happy to hear her words even if this is just a wine happy trail of thought. “It’s okay, Adria, I promise. It was so good to finally meet you.”

Brooke walks her out, and I can barely make it through brushing my teeth and washing my face before collapsing on my bed. The mattress is not the best quality and Amazon still says my mattress topper won’t be here for a few days, but I drift off easily, my thoughts filled with nothing except gratitude for my first night in Storrs and eager for my new start.

It’s safe to say this feeling does not extend in the morning, when I am awoken by the sun blazing through my window. My mouth is dry as I reach for my phone, eager to check the time and groaning when I see it is only 7AM. My groan is not audible for long, though, as I am quickly silenced by my most recent notification. One that has been awaiting me since 12:37AM.

Paige (DO NOT CALL): You go to UConn now???

August 26, 2023

“Go, go, go… Let’s fucking go Dorka!” I yell, watching as my old teammate scored in a game against the Liberty. It’s the Saturday night before the start of classes, and while the streets of Storrs are filled with people on their first night out of the semester, my teammates and I have all been moved into our current apartments for a little over two months. When your summer breaks are filled with workouts on campus mixed with brief vacations or visits home, that first night out doesn’t exactly carry the same novelty.

Which is why some of us were sat in Nika and Azzi’s living room, game on the TV as the two hosts prepare whatever alcoholic beverage they are subjecting us to from the kitchen separated by a counter. Three of our freshmen sit in the room with us: Ashlynn is on the floor, Ice is right above her on the couch with Aaliyah and Aubrey, and KK is next to me, typing hurriedly on her phone. Being one of the oldest players this year, I feel it’s especially important for me to get to know them - not just how they play, but who they actually are off the court.

“If UConn gets me playing like that,” Ice gestures to the TV, “I’ll know I made the right decision.”

“No turning back now.” Aubrey clapped her on the back, an over exaggerated grin on her face, which Ice responded to by shoving her off playfully. Ashlynn giggles, but doesn’t respond beyond that. It’s not abnormal for her to be quiet - what is abnormal is how silent KK is, her phone apparently more interesting than any of us. Aubrey seems to notice too, because she calls over to her.

“Hey KK, what did you think of that play?” No response. The typically extroverted girl has her chin in her hand, still staring at the screen in her other hand. Ice grabs the nearest pillow to her and throws it at the girl, prompting a jolt and a startled “What?” from KK and a “Ay, cut it out!” from Nika across the counter as she stirs a pitcher of God knows what.

“Bruh, KK, you’re not even watching,” I roll my eyes.

“Probably busy texting her girl,” Aaliyah mutters, although clearly she wasn’t trying that hard to be quiet. Hold up … her girl? Now the entire room quickly turns away from the game and to the freshman, who sits up from her slouched position with a death glare.

“I told you that in private.”

“Yo what? KK, you’ve been on campus for, like, five seconds,” Nika pops in the room.

“Clearly that’s all she needs,” Ice shrugs, earning her the same pillow thrown right back at her.

“Y’all suck,” KK slumps back into the couch, crossing her arms with a slight pout. I feel bad, wondering if we’ve been too hard on the teasing.

“Ok c’mon, we’ll stop. Let’s see her.” I gesture her to bring her phone closer to me, an act that she ignores for now.

“She’s not even my girl,” she mumbles.

“Do you want her to be?” Nika asks, eyebrows raised as she steps closer. All of us watch as KK bites her bottom lip, looking down at her sneakers. Hold on… she’s blushing. I may have only known the girl for two months, but i’ve never seen her do that before.

“Holy shit,” Nika exclaims. “KK’s a lover girl.”

“Nothing to be ashamed of, just surprising is all,” Aaliyah clarifies, “not many freshmen are too into settling down.”

I notice Aaliyah, Nika, and Aubrey turn to face me, their stares deadpan. “What are you lookin’ at me for?” I exclaim, pointing at my chest. The heat rising to my face reveals that it’s no secret, even to me.

“What do you think?” Azzi calls from the next room. I sigh.

It’s no secret among the team (or anyone, really) that I had a pretty… entertaining first two years at UConn. Once COVID restrictions began lifting and the team was able to see other people outside of other players, some of the older players made it their mission to show the younger ones what they had been missing, one of those things being who they were missing. Honestly, it’s what I thought I needed at the time: being trapped in my dorm the majority of the time I wasn’t in practice gave me a lot of time to think, and with thinking came regret. More than once I jolted up in my bed in the middle of the night, dreams of dark hair, tanned skin, and that laugh replaying in my mind. It was torture.

Being in a different girl’s bed every weekend silenced it, just momentarily. Some people viewed me as a player who got off on getting any girl she wanted. The guilt of it finally caught up to me at the beginning of my sophomore year, when I thought about all of the girls I hurt, the ones who thought I wanted more than just one or two nights. It just reinforced my worst fear about myself: I was a womanizer who was incapable of caring about anything aside from basketball.

“Aight aight,” I surrender, shifting my attention back to KK. “We not talking about me right now. Let’s see her.”

KK unlocked her phone, typing a username into the search bar before handing the phone off to me. Nika and Ice were quickly at my side, craning their necks to see a peek. The girl (Adria Taylor, I discover from her bio) is tall, with deep skin and long braids going down her back.

“She’s so pretty!” Nika gushes, and I would have to agree.

Ice, unable to resist the pink circle surrounding Adria’s profile photo, taps on the waiting story before KK can protest. The phone illuminates with a photo of two girls smiling on a couch, captioned “first night back” with a heart and a couple of mentions, presumably her friends handles. I don’t even need to take a look at what is written, however, because my eyes seem to have zeroed in on the girl further from the camera, and my mouth seems to go dry. It can’t be, but it is.

Because the girl in the photo is Maya.

“Holy fuck.”

I don’t even realize I’ve said it until the three girls turn to look at me, confusion laced in their faces. “What?” Nika asks, concern evident. My heart is racing at a million miles an hour and my hands suddenly feel impossibly sweaty, but I refuse to reveal myself to them.

I fake a cough, covering it with one hand while the other goes to scratch the back of my neck. “Uh, nothing. Thought I saw something but um,” Suddenly the sight of my lap clad in Nike tech sweats is the most interesting sight in the world. “She’s cute, KK.”

Almost like some sort of angel sent to save me, Azzi appears with a tray full of drinks that are a bright pink color and look entirely too sweet. “Drink it slowly guys, I’m not really sure I measured correctly.” She looks embarrassed at the admission, passing them around the room. Upon my first sip, I wince. Yep, definitely not too sweet. Will I still drink it? Yes. It would be a shame to let a perfectly good drink go to waste, and I now have something to run from tonight.

We continue watching the game, or at least I am. During commercials I spark conversations with anyone who will listen, including asking Ashlynn about some country concert she went to with her parents over the summer. I don’t even really listen to country, but it was nice to see the typically shy girl light up over something. Plus, it gave me an excuse not to think too hard.

Truthfully by the end of the night I was fucking hammered, not bothering to keep track of how many shots I chased down after whatever concoction Nika and Azzi made. Everyone in the room knew it too, to the point where Nika took it upon herself to walk me back to my apartment once the game ended, even though I only lived one floor down and KK and Aubrey were both still at her apartment.

After I promised her I would chug some water before bed and take the pain reliever she laid out for me in the morning, she agreed to leave and let me go rest. I collapsed in my bed, which suddenly felt like the most comfortable place I had ever been. My brain, on the other hand, was providing anything but comfort running at around 100 miles an hour. Unable to resist, I look up Adria’s profile on my account, clicking the story. Sober me probably would have thought about how it would look if I showed up in her profile views, but drunk me clearly didn’t care enough.

Sure enough, she’s sat there with a glass of wine in her hands. My heart jumps as I realize that she’s still just as beautiful as she was when I first met her, just more grown up this time. Her face is all defined cheekbones, glistening eyes, and a smile - God, that smile, that never failed to brighten my day if it was directed at me. It’s been a while since I’ve glanced at her profile - though we still follow each other, she barely ever posts and I don’t remember the last time she’s interacted with anything I’ve posted. Viewing her profile is reserved for nights where I’m filled with just enough delusion to convince myself it’s a good idea. Nope, never is.

The girl next to her (Brooke, I assume from the tag) is leaning into her slightly in a way that makes my stomach flip. She’s not entirely unfamiliar to me - I’ve definitely seen her in a photo dump by Maya last summer. A part of me wonders if that’s the next girl that gets to treat her the way I should have. What if she came to UConn for her, I think. Nope. Can’t do that. Maya hasn’t been mine, not for a while.

The urge to reach out has died down through the years, going from entirely unbearable at times to more of a constant dull itch that I feel as though I can’t ever scratch. Her texting me after my ACL tear last summer provided temporary relief. I mean, it had to say something that she cared enough to show that she cared. A person that hates me wouldn’t do that.

But then, she never responded to my reply. A person that hates me would do that.

So yeah, there is nothing I want more in this world than to text Maya one last time, just to tell her I’m sorry. That I still think about the way I treated her, and how I’ve been too afraid to be with another girl since I’m worried I’ll do the same thing. That I know I don’t deserve her, not even platonically, but feelings aside I miss being around her. I wish we could be friends again, or acquaintances who occasionally text each other on birthdays and holidays, or something. At the very least, I want her to know I’m sorry.

But beyond everything, I want her to be happy. And if me not talking to her makes her happy, as stated the last time I saw her physically where she stated she “just needed time”, I was willing to suffer through that.

Somehow knowing she could be anywhere right now, even just a short walk away, made the suffering unbearable right now, in a way that I hadn’t felt since freshman year.

Blame it on the alcohol, or the picture, or whatever you like. Doesn’t change the fact that I opened my contacts in search for one particular one. Doesn’t change the five word text I sent that took an embarrassingly long time to think of. And it doesn’t change how my fingers pressed send before any other doubts could enter my brain. Putting my phone on do not disturb, I plug it in and turn off my lights, deciding that chugging water can wait until tomorrow. For now, I need to sleep off everything I’ve seen tonight and the memory of what I just did.

#paige bueckers #uconn wbb #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers angst #paige bueckers fluff

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slasherflicks999 · 2 days ago

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new oc/sona yaaaaaay!

oh how i wish i had all those piercings (bridge come back to me💔)

can we guess where his name came from gang (suspiciously username shaped name)

i actually really enjoy his character design and i literally color picked his color pallet from a diagram(?) that shows how a bruise heals and it worked out LMAOO sooo new character design life hack

more info and lots of general yapping about him after the break if you care to read :3 and i yap a LOT i have lots to say about him bc its been a while since i genuinely developed an oc LMAO

cw for LOTS and LOTS of talk of death if you do decide to read! just in case :3

first of all you may be thinking “5’6? short king!” and i will have you know i actually made him taller than i am irl by a few inches LMAOOO whoops t boy swag will do that to ya

anyways the thing about his color pallet being based off of that of a literal bruise IS actually relevant because he is literally immortal and is CONSTANTLY getting injured like all the time. i think conveying info about characters via their color pallets is fun and i wanna do more of it so hehe. plus green and red and purple are a nice combo and it worked out very well :3 also another little note about his design: he’s a very creative and artistic person and i wanted to show that through his clothes being somehow modified and i think i did that well too. trying to properly get back into making actually decent and thoughtful character designs so im proud of myself :3

that being said his immortality causes him a SHIT load of problems. i feel like being immortal would really suck LMAO but more-so i feel like i dont see people do much with the idea of immortality in terms of horror or at least not from what i’ve seen. like im still figuring out his lore but the basics are: he has no clue who his dad is and found out he was immortal at a somewhat young age but literally his entire life he’s been viewed as just kind of off?? like he looks human and for the most part acts it but he just has certain traits that humans…. do not have. his eyes glow in pics like a nocturnal animal’s would and his teeth are suspiciously sharp and he gets weird cravings for raw meat which he can somehow digest perfectly fine with absolutely no issue but he’s not like OVERTLY some otherworldly creature he’s just a little weird. a tad strange even. possibly even kind of unsettling depending on who you ask.

and i like to imagine these are a lot of things that were present in his childhood too, like his mother would wake up to the sound of rummaging in the kitchen and find him at the ripe old age of five just gnawing at a whole raw steak in the dark. he’s just sort of always been like that and didn’t realize it was weird until he was older. (is a lot of this used as metaphors for undiagnosed neurodiversity/mental illness? …..iii dont knowwww :3 (yes) (although not every aspect of him is a total reflection of myself, he is still his own character in many respects lolol))

but in general this ends up causing him all sorts of issues in all sorts of millions of ways. for one he has sort of a fragile sense of self because he doesn’t even know what he is?? he knows he can’t just be a regular old human because of all the previously mentioned reasons and a few more, but that aside he has no idea what he is. he also doesn’t know pretty much anything about how his immortality works beyond what he’s experienced and what the others have told him during the times when he’s “dead,” he has no idea how his aging is affected by it because he seems to be aging relatively normally so far, he has no clue if he will EVER die for good/if there’s any way to kill him, he has no idea how his body seems to heal the most insane fatal injuries as if nothing happened, and much more quickly than a normal human would, he kinda doesn’t know jack shit about himself and it pisses him off a little bit!

it also has just caused him lots of trauma as you can probably imagine. lots of dissociation everywhere he looks

moving on to how his immortality actually works: like i said there’s only so much he knows about it but this is all the info he knows so far. he CAN “die” but all of his deaths are temporary. that is to say that his body will eventually heal and regenerate itself and he will come back. it’s not like deadpool where he can get stabbed in the head and go about the rest of his day like nothing happened, he might be able to keep himself up for a while to fight back or run away but it wont be long before he drops dead for a few days or so. during said time his body outwardly does seem very dead. he’s unresponsive and still and isn’t blinking or nothing and his pupils are blown (which he already has huge pupils but yk), like if you were to just show him to someone they’d be like “yeah that’s absolutely a corpse and also why would you show this to me.” but his body is still alive in a sense, it’s just sort of… yknow when you put a computer into sleep mode?? upon first glance it’s gonna look like it’s off but inwardly things are still going on. his body is still working to regenerate itself the whole time, even if whatever he sustained that “killed” him would very much not be healable or survivable by any normal person. in his POV, he just sort of gets knocked out for a while and then wakes up exhausted and sore and absolutely FAMISHED. like he could easily eat a horse without any exaggeration the boy can eat.

he’s also always been interested in horror and the supernatural and crime and shit and is largely desensitized to that sort of stuff from that + experiencing a lot of different deaths himself bc of the whole immortality thing paired with him being generally reckless when he was younger because what’s it gonna do? kill him? (“what’re you gonna do, jeff the kill me?” -him at jeff moments before being stabbed, probably) he says he doesn’t care but it actually effects him deeply in ways he doesn’t understand for a while. as he gets older he becomes less reckless and doesn’t throw himself into dangerous situations as often.

all that being said he’s not necessarily all that dangerous himself?? he carries his dagger around with him for protection or cutting up meat and apples or woodcarving more than anything and as a proxy he works a lot more as just an… observer. despite his name he’s not really all for the killing people stuff if he can help it unlike many of the others, if anything his name more so refers to the fact that HE’S usually the one getting slashed up. (it’s actually just bc of my username but shhhhhh) but generally he much prefers to be in the background keeping watch or scoping things out or just sort of… stalking people basically. dont ask me how he manages to be stealthy in THAT outfit… he manages somehow i swear 😔

but yknow overall he’s not an incredible threat to most people, the “creepy” part of him being a creepypasta comes a lot more just from how much it would suck to be in his shoes as just a guy who happens to be immortal but still able to experience the pain of death over and over again. he isn’t the creepy thing as much as his entire life experience is LOL. usually he’s just unsettling and disturbing at most.

he also has a VERY complex relationship with BEN in my AU specifically (WHICH RANDOM DISCLAIMER TIME: NOT THE LITTLE 12 YEAR OLD VERSION NOOOOO EW my au’s BEN is like a combo of “fanon” him and behavioral event network he is not 12 years old and i dont want him being shipped with anything NEAR that version of him, ONLY my AU’s version who is 19. im not a freak. 💔 they’re not a couple anyway (BEN🤝slasher -> being aro) but i did wanna preface that just in case bc im not trying to get misinterpreted like that) might write more about that sometime… bc their relationship has a lot of symbolism and complexity bc BEN is my fav character ever period and yes i am gonna write him and my self insert oc as being incredibly deeply intertwined bc i love him and cringe culture can kick rocks and therapy is difficult to get :3 oc x canon shippers platonic or romantic yall will always be safe on my blog frfr

im gonna post more about BEN soon too…. literally working on actually making a proper design for him rn which is mostly just difficult bc i cannot for the life of me think of what to give this freak to wear. i need them to serve cunt but like….. how do i do that 💔💔 that one BEN design i reblogged that gave him the adorable little heels….. absolutely genius………. u know who u are :3

more random rapid fire fun facts about him bc why not: he loves piercings and tattoos and body mods bc they heal so easily for him, he has his tongue split! (NEEEED to do one day actually my dream body mod), his immortality doesn’t seem to effect his ability to get sick which he HATES but when he does get sick it only lasts for a day or so and he’s a total drama queen the whole time, he loves to sew (though only by hand, he’s genuinely afraid of sewing machines) and will patch up or modify clothes for his friends or other proxies if they ask, his favorite kind of raw meat is boar, and his favorite cooked meat is a tie between pork (boar or domestic pig) and chicken, he wears his headphones most of the time bc he loves music and sounds can sometimes overstimulate him, and BEN can talk to him through them because of course he can, he loves animals and actually has way more empathy for them than for humans, and he absolutely LOVES medical dramas and does not care that a lot of the actual medical parts are inaccurate he will eat them up. he WILL be caught staying up until 6am watching chicago med and he will not apologize.

ANYWAY i think that’s about it actually. if anyone actually read all my ramblings…. i love u /p u mean very much to me /p

i WILL be yapping more soon (except probably about the actual “canon” pastas hehe) :3

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scoobydoodean · 2 days ago

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reading the notes makes me feel like im missing something about the plucky pennywhistle thing. like people are tagging it "me when i lie" "man i wish dean would tell the truth about his childhood" like. did he lie in the episode? im not saying he didnt i just. am confused. (also unless we are shown what happened, accusing dean or sam of lying about their childhood is presumption, because sam might've perceived it as "trolling for chicks" but maybe dean was hustling pool.

to be clear i do think dean was blowing off steam and flirting with girls because he was a teenager and probably was exhausted about being forced to parent his brother, but the fandom wiki could've also been remembering the fact that there's a mother in the episode who is dumping her kid at plucky's so she can work enough hours, and dean starts defending the mom, so the wiki author misremembered it as "he was working and told sam he was flirting" . reporting that as fact is Not a good idea for a fandom wiki but there's a weird obsession that sam and dean are ontologically liars or truth tellers when sam and dean lie all the time and might be reporting memories inaccurately, but they usually don't when it comes to their childhood.

like "dean did his best to parent sam despite being ill-equipped and a child" and "sam felt very lonely despite dean's persistent presence in his life and dean felt hurt when he found this out, despite this not being either of their faults" can both be true!

like sam literally lies In That Conversation because he doesn't wanna talk about plucky's! he literally says "no i don't remember it". and this is hilarious of him. he's trying to rewrite his own memory in real time i think.

Dean doesn’t seem to quite remember Plucky’s at first.

Likely because Dean really doesn’t remember, he also really doesn’t take offense to Sam’s version of events or argue with him at all? He accepts Sam’s version (that he hated Plucky’s) as soon as Sam says so.

Yeah, when Sam complains that Dean abandoned him there to troll for chicks, Dean says,

“It's not like I left you in jail. I mean, those places are supposed to be fun.”

But that isn’t a denial of how Sam actually felt about the place. It’s a (light-heartedly stated) defense of Dean’s own reasons for leaving him there. He thought it would be fun! If that wasn’t true, surely Dean would have left Sam at the motel and saved himself the time and cash, no? I think the fact that Dean thinks Sam liked it means Dean probably wasn’t paying attention to him at the time, caught up with his own stuff, but I don’t think it makes sense to assume anything other than that, and I think Dean is perfectly willing to accept that he wasn’t really paying attention to what Sam wanted.

Sam’s tone and the content of his complaints when telling Dean how he really felt about Plucky’s also isn’t exactly serious. He reports that Plucky’s was “lame”, “smelled like puke”, and served grainy ice cream. He’s not exactly bringing the real tragedy to the surface here (the kid at Plucky’s with the overworked mom is much more effective at exhibiting the misery of being trapped in a children’s arcade).

The thing is, Dean really isn’t defensive about any of this? He actually just thinks it’s funny. Laughing over the phone with Sam, he says, “What in the world did they do to you?” It’s honestly kind of refreshing that Dean really doesn’t beat himself up about it. Even in the end of the episode when Dean apologizes for ditching Sam, he’s laughing (and then pranks Sam with a clown doll). Maybe that’s what sets them off? That Dean doesn’t “care” enough? Unfortunately for them, Dean was also a child who deserved his own space and was not Sam’s dad.

Totally agree with you that there’s an underlying little narrative here about overworked parents and that a wiki shouldn’t make inferences. And also about Sam and Dean’s differing versions of childhood often making sense from their own perspectives. They can both be right about their own perception.

#mail

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itacats · 20 hours ago

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In His Steady Hands

FT: Soap x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of chronic illness, muscle spasms, mild self-doubt, and anxiety. Some depictions of noisy environments (arcades and shooting ranges).

SUM: Navigating through the thrill of an arcade night and a tense shooting range visit, you find yourself caught between your desire to push boundaries and the challenges posed by your body. Soap’s relentless charm and lightheartedness ease your tension, but his sharp perception threatens to unravel the mask you’ve carefully constructed.

A/N: Arcade games and shooting ranges with Soap? Sign me up! 🎯💥 Writing this had me imagining his Scottish humor cutting through every tense moment—truly a blessing! Let me know if y’all can hear his laugh too. 😊

Side note: inspired by when I found out I had dystonia when I was on my high school varsity marksmanship team-boy do I miss it😅

In His Steady Hands Mastlist

Part 2: Shaky Foundations & Hurdles

Your group of friends had been talking about an arcade night for weeks, but when the plan finally came together, you found yourself hesitating. The idea of being in such a lively, chaotic environment with your friends—and Soap—both excited and unnerved you. What if your body decided to betray you at the worst possible moment?

Still, you pushed through the hesitation. You didn’t want to be the person who always said no, the one who distanced themselves from others for fear of the unknown. Soap’s enthusiasm when he texted the group chat to confirm the plan was contagious, and a small part of you was looking forward to seeing him again.

The moment you stepped into the arcade, the energy hit you like a wave. Neon lights danced along the walls, and the cacophony of sounds—coins clinking, games beeping, people laughing—created a dizzying backdrop. You spotted Soap almost immediately, surrounded by your friends as he gestured animatedly towards the games littered around the room.

“There you are!” he called out when he saw you, his voice cutting through the noise. “C’mon, you’re not getting out of this.”

Soap was already in the thick of things, bouncing from game to game with childlike enthusiasm. His energy was infectious, and you couldn’t help but smile as he dragged you and the others toward a row of racing simulators.

“Alright, who’s ready to lose spectacularly?” he teased, shooting a cocky grin in your direction as he slid into the seat of the nearest machine.

You raised an eyebrow, feigning confidence. “Big words for someone who might not even finish the race.”

The group burst into playful jeers, and you slid into the seat next to him, gripping the steering wheel. The screen lit up, the countdown ticking down with a deafening rhythm. Three, two, one—GO!

The game roared to life, and you leaned into the controls, adrenaline surging as you swerved through the digital course. For a moment, you forgot about the noise, the people, the tension coiled inside you. It was just you and the game.

But then it happened.

A sudden spasm shot through your arm, jerking the wheel violently to the side. Your car veered off the track, smashing into a barrier. Heat flushed your face as you fought to steady your grip, but the damage was done. The others were already laughing at the ridiculousness of the crash as your stomach twisted with silent embarrassment.

“You alright there, champ?” Soap’s teasing voice cut through the noise, his tone light but his gaze sharp.

You forced a smile, releasing the wheel and flexing your fingers as if to shake off the moment. “Yeah, just tired. Long day.”

“Fatigue’ll get you every time,” he replied easily, leaning back in his seat as his avatar sped across the finish line in first place. The others groaned, accusing him of cheating, but Soap only laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender. “What can I say? Raw talent.”

Despite the uproar around him, Soap’s eyes lingered on you for a beat longer than necessary, his expression unreadable. You avoided his gaze, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you stood to join the group.

“Alright, what’s next?” someone shouted, and the group began to disperse toward the other games.

Soap caught up to you as you meandered toward a skee-ball machine, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “You sure you’re alright?”

You nodded quickly, plastering on a casual smile. “Of course. Just out of practice, I guess.”

He studied you for a moment, his eyes scanning your face as if searching for cracks in the façade. But instead of pressing further, he broke into a wide grin. “Fair enough. But if you want to redeem yourself, I’m always up for a rematch. Winner buys the next round of drinks.”

You chuckled softly, relief blooming in your chest as he steered the conversation away. “You’re on, MacTavish.”

True to form, Soap launched into one of his grand, exaggerated stories as the two of you joined the others. He recounted a tale of a disastrous attempt at drunken karaoke during a squad celebration, complete with an off-key rendition of a Queen song and a broken microphone. The group erupted in laughter, and the tension that had settled over you moments before began to ease.

Soap’s laughter boomed above the others, and you couldn’t help but glance at him, a small, grateful smile tugging at your lips. He’d noticed your stumble—of course he had—but instead of making it a point of concern, he’d diffused it with effortless charm, redirecting the focus away from you.

As the night wore on, you found yourself relaxing more, caught up in the laughter and Soap’s easy humor. But in the back of your mind, the memory of the spasm lingered, a reminder of the delicate balance you walked.

For now, though, you let yourself enjoy the moment. After all, shaky foundations could still hold up under the right support.

In the following weeks, another invitation arrived in Soap’s usual no-nonsense fashion—a simple text that read: "Shooting range tomorrow? You coming?" A grinning emoji with sunglasses followed the message, but it did little to ease the tension that coiled within you.

Your first instinct was to decline. Stress had a way of igniting the worst of your symptoms, and the shooting range was a stress-filled scenario waiting to happen–the loud sounds, the jolts of a freshly fired gun lingering in your arms, the metallic tang in the air that tried to overwhelm your nose. But as you reread the message, imagining Soap’s easy grin and his unrelenting enthusiasm, you hesitated. Turning him down felt like letting him down, and something in you refused to do that.

The next day, you stood outside the range, your palms clammy despite the brisk air. Soap was already waiting for you, leaning casually against the entrance. His face lit up when he spotted you, and any lingering thoughts of backing out vanished.

“About time,” he teased, his Scottish lilt warm and playful. “Thought you were gonna bail on me.”

You forced a laugh, adjusting the strap of your bag. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

Inside, the sharp smell of gunpowder mingled with the low hum of conversation and the muffled pops of firing. The range was busier than you’d expected, adding another layer to the knot in your stomach. Soap guided you to a station, his confidence contagious as he set up the equipment and walked you through the basics.

“Easy enough,” he said, sliding a pair of protective headphones over your ears. “Just keep your stance steady and breathe.”

Keep steady and breathe. Easier said than done.

The first few shots weren’t bad—your aim wasn’t perfect, but Soap’s steady encouragement kept your nerves at bay. His voice, muffled slightly by the headphones, carried a balance of humor and instruction that eased some of your tension.

But as the session wore on, the stress began to mount. The weight of the gun, the crack of each shot, the subtle vibration that coursed through your arms—it all started to take its toll. Your muscles tightened, a warning sign you knew all too well.

You tried to shake it off, adjusting your grip and forcing a smile when Soap glanced your way. “Not bad, huh?” you managed, your voice tight.

“Not bad at all,” he replied, flashing a thumbs-up. But his sharp gaze lingered on you a moment too long, as if sensing something was off.

When a spasm hit, it was impossible to hide. Your fingers twitched in an unruly manner, causing the gun to jerk slightly in your hands. You quickly set it down, hoping Soap hadn’t noticed. A stray bullet with this many people around was asking for trouble… if not more.

“Everything alright?” he asked, his tone casual but laced with an undertone of concern.

You nodded quickly, avoiding his gaze. “Yeah, just…my grip slipped.”

Soap didn’t push, but you could feel his eyes on you as you stepped back from the station, pretending to examine the target. The silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken questions and the weight of your own self-consciousness.

When he finally spoke, it wasn’t to probe or pry. Instead, he gestured toward the target with a lopsided grin. “Not bad for a first-timer. With a bit more practice, you might even beat me.”

His lightheartedness caught you off guard, easing some of the tension that had built in your chest. You offered a small smile in return, grateful that he hadn’t pushed for answers you weren’t ready to give.

But as the session wrapped up and you walked back to your car, the moment lingered in your mind. You weren’t sure whether to be thankful for Soap’s restraint or ashamed that he’d seen even a glimpse of your struggle.

For now, you decided, it was easier to bury those feelings and focus on the fact that Soap still looked at you the same way he had before—like nothing had changed—probably.

Want to see what's up next? Click here!

#bt extra #call of duty #cod #fanfic #cod fic #gn reader #soap x you #soap #soap x reader #soap cod #john soap mactavish #johnny mactavish #dystonia #civilian au #in his steady hands

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gauntletqueen · 1 day ago

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I'm known to be honest. To a fault, some would say, but only logically, not emotionally. Without even realising it, I usually put up a front of sorts, appearing perfectly happy and content. It's not so much that I lie about how I feel, it's moreso that I can't get myself to talk about my emotions in the first place. It makes me feel really awful. I'm taking this time to be truly honest about how I feel and who I am.

I'm afraid of a lot of things. That most of my friends secretly don't care about me and only humor me because the alternative is too much of a hassle. That I'll never actually be happy with who I am, no matter how many positive changes I make to myself. That people will realise I'm not anything special, that so many people in my spheres are a better alternative to me, that what little I've managed to accomplish in my continuous car crash of a life amounts to nothing. That my years of professional education, self-taught skills and dreams of becoming an artist really have been wasted. That I'm undeserving and even incapable of real romantic love. That, by being honest about all this, I'll drive people away.

Most of all I'm afraid of the relentless march of time. That all of my bad choices, failures, wasted opportunities, fears and losses are constantly compounding. The terrifying prospect of living in a world that keeps getting worse, that as time goes by, the people in whom I find the most comfort will be taken from me. That my chances to live my life in a way I can be happy with are slipping away.

And I feel ungrateful. I'm told I'm loved, that I matter and that I do have a positive impact on the lives of others. People tell me they love what I do, that they look up to me, feel inspired. They put me on a pedestal, think me unapproachable. It makes me angry how wrong that feels. My self esteem is so bad I can't imagine a world in which these people aren't wrong for this. I know their feelings are valid, I know I should just be happy with their compliments, but it's like I'm an outsider in my own mind, desperately clawing at the windows and screaming to stop being so stubborn, so sad, so self-destructive.

I've often talked about wanting, needing to be a robot. For gender euphoria, of course, and to be rid of the need to eat and sleep, and chronic illness. But it goes deeper. I want to be something other entirely, somewhere else entirely. Something disconnected from this hellish existence where I'm constantly fighting myself in every way. Something not bound by the ticking clock of a biological life, or the crushing fear of a monotonous, unfulfilled everyday existence. Free to just be, without a lifetime of dreams and worries, stretching both back and forward in time. Maybe I want to be nothing at all.

I don't know if this makes sense. I just wrote it down. I'm sorry. Thank you for reading.

#this is a big vent post. it's been a long time coming. feel free to ignore #I've been in a bad place emitionally for a long long time #some recent developments and today's computer incident were just the last straw

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lilygaragee · 1 day ago

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new year’s kiss

☆note: hii guys!! ive decided to create a new account here after a small break so please dont go harsh on me 🙏 english is not my first language but i tried my best so i really appreciate all of the support 🫶

☆warnings: mentions of alcohol, drug use, swearning, cheating(?), smuttish but not really smut, fluff

you were high out of your mind, watching a film on your couch with peter (your current boyfriend) you honestly hated him, you hated the way he treated you and the way you basically became a drug addict because of him.

as you two were laying in your apartment that obviously you pay for because peter is broke. Your phone vibrates from underneath your back, you silently lift your back to see who texted you without peter looking into your phone. It was sarah, you best friend since kindergarten saying that she hosts a party on new year’s eve and that you should totally come, you read the message quickly enough for Peter not to be able to and he immediately asks you „who is texting you again?” „oh its just my mom asking if i would want to come to spend new year’s with her” „i want to go to a club baby” he says giving you a small kiss on your forehead „ill go alone then” as a response he just hums and goes back to watching the film

☆☆☆☆

You have decidedto wear your favourite black dress with black thighs and shiny heeles, obviously you changed in the car so you didnt have to worry about fighting with peter that you look like a slut, he hates we you look good and you know it, he thinks that you will chase him for tne rest of his life, he hasn’t realised yet that you are so sick of him, his habits and just his entire personality, you want to kick him out of your place but you know that you dont have enough strength to do it alone.

„hey im here can you come out?” you stare at the text you sent and wait for sarah to respond or at least see the message but then you see her cherry red dyed hair running up to your car „girl cmon youre still scared to come to my house alone?” she says laughing, „im very scared of your neighbours” you respond to her looking over at the house thats right next to sarah’s

As you two were getting ready in sarah’s bathroom blasting music snd makeup just trashed everywhere you ask her „do you have a list who’s coming?” „yeah overhere” sarah passes you her phone with people’s name’s „who tf are these random people” „omg stop you literally know them” you still look at the phone confused as you try to recognise any of them as you notice a familiar name „who’s oscar piastri?” „oh he’s my friend’s friend or something like that, i dont really know the guy. What is he cute?” „i mean..maybe a little?” you still scroll through his pictures curiously „wait aren’t you with peter still?” „we broke up but he still says he loves me and wants to stay at my place but he gives me free weed do i guess its fine” trying to explain how you feel about peter is probably one of the hardest thing to do.

People stared coming to sarah’s house around 8pm and it was just a regular house party with people drinking, smoking or doing other stuff, you were looking out to see if the oscar guy that caught your attention was already here but you could not find him anywhere, after a while you just gave up, not having any hopes about seeing him, you came up to a random guy that was rolling joints and asked to borrow one he agreed after some negotiations and you went to the garden to smoke it in peace, you were sitting beside the pool smoking while a guy comes up to you and sits next to you, you were honestly shocked because wtf is he doing?? and then you notice the similarities between him and the guy that you were stalking on instagram „oh uh you want some?” you ask him shyly not confident at all like you planned in your head to be „yeah sure” he smiles and takes the joint from your hand. You’ve made the small talk while you were sharing the weed and you can already feeling it mess with your head and you can feel your mouth getting dryer by the second. „what your feeling it already?” said oscar laughing a little. „yeah” you said giggling „cmon lets go inside” oscar said standing up and reaching his hand to take yours to help you stand up, you stood up groaning, not wanting to go near people, but as soon you walked into the room full of people dancing to house music you slowly started getting more comfortable and more high. Oscar was right next to you all the time dancing and laughing with you, your just dancing your legs out of any strength at this point you feel so tired as you puy or head on oscar’s chest humming something while people around you are still dancing „hey are you ok? wanna go lay down” Oscar just see you nodding and takes you upstairs.

You were laying on Sarah’s bed in the only room that was left because people were probably having sex in all the other ones, but you weren’t there alone, you were laying on oscar’s chest listening to his heartbeat and listening to his monologue which didnt maks any sense, he probably doesn’t know what’s hes saying either. You never felt so connected and locked with anyone, you could feel his hands on your hair braiding them, you put your head up to look at him and you see his red eyes looking almost closed, you didnt have to look in the mirror guessing that you probably look the same, now your just admiring him and noticing the little moles he has and dimples when hes smiling. In the very awkward moment that Sarah catches you two just shouting fo everyone upstairs to comedown the stairs to watch the fireworks.

„How much do you want to stand up and go downstairs” oscar asks quietly „i have like zero strength left in my body so you would literally have to drag me there” „oh okay so..wanna stay here?” he asks smiling at you „yeah that would be nice” you said giving the smile back.

As you remember that you have something called a phone in your pocket that peter probably has been trying to get an answer for the last couple hours! he thinks your at your moms, you turned off your location so theres no way he’ll find you, you think „whatever all check later”

Oscar and you stood up to sit netxt to eachother while listening to people countdown seconds till new year, you take one more look at oscar and now he had probably noticed you admiring him for so long but he doesn’t do or wants to do anything about it

„happy new year” oscar says to you as he turns his head to you immediately catching eye contact

„happy new year oscar” you say back to him visibly flushed, you close your eyes as you feel his hand on your cheek pulling your lips into his, your tongue immediately started a battle with his fighting for dominance, you have really put all of your left strength into the battle but still lost to Oscar. At this point you two were out of breath and both broke contact, just for him to catch his breath and go back for even more. He picked you up from the bed, you wrap your legs around his hips while he carries you to the bathroom and puts you on the sink that you were getting ready in a few hours ago. Oscar stared to zip off your dress and you were left in your matching lacy underwear immediately teasing you, „you are so gorgeous baby” oscar whispered to your ear sending shivers down your spine while you responded with a moan. „We cant oscar…im sorry” you said quietly but loud enough for him to hear, „huh? why not” he reacted quickly, „peter would kill me if he found out, like literally” „is he your boyfriend or what?” „no, not really, were not together, but he says he doesn’t want to break up and now wont move out, hes like fucking insane” „what the fuck is wrong with the guy, i could never huty you” said oscar gently fixing your hair.

You and Oscar exchanged numbers and you told sarah everything, when you finally checked your phone you saw over 50 missed calles from peter trying to reach you without success, thank god you never gave him your mothers number even though he deemed that many times. you responded to him after few hours saying that you left your phone in the car and thought you lost it, he somehow believed it.

#f1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 2025 #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri fic #f1 x you #mclaren #mclaren f1

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lol-jackles · 2 days ago

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Hi, you mentioned TW recently and I remembered what a disaster it was. The lack of effort and interest in making things work makes me wish that production had never seen the light of day.

But it also made me think of the problem it caused, which now seems to have been overcome. I'd like to get your opinion on this: how do men/friends handle the situation when they work together and attempts to take over the business or franchise arise? I know that the business factor has to be considered, but my question is, once the issues are resolved, does the esteem and image remain? Is it a case of forgive and forget, or forgive but don't forget?

It is worth noting that in the TW case there were interviews and accusations, some of them false and outright lies, which to some extent protected and attacked the public image, and of course a legacy was at stake. On top of that, the way it was publicised was sordid and generally a real mess.

Is it easy for men to forget these actions, do they forgive or do they hold grudges?

I ask because I think you can shed some light on this doubt, and you are aware of the whole context. Thanks for reading.

Forgive but don't forget. When the boundaries between work-friend and actual friend are blurred, it often falls on the betrayed to take a step back and determine what are the facts i.e. did he sabotage me or did he act without me in mind? Did he put his interest first and it resulted in me suffering harm? Depending on Jared’s answer, it may change how he sees his circumstances. Then there is the added complexity of competition for jobs in an industry with 97% unemployment rate.

On top of that is the natural competitiveness among males, even between friends. Men go through the competition phase with each other in order to determine hierarchy and once that’s established, they then “reconcile” and move into the cooperative phase. The difference between men and women is men are not supposed to leave the cooperative phase while women have no problem going from competitive to cooperative and back to competitive phase. It’s why “frenemies” exist among women more so than men.

Jensen goes back to competing with Jared because of the scarcity of jobs in the post-SPN era and due to the codependent-ish nature of their friendship, Jensen is also competing for Jared to show that he is good enough for Jared because from Jensen’s perspective, he has known for at least 2 years since before season 13 that Jared was leaving Supernatural and to him, that also means Jared has been leaving Jensen for 2 years. In my experience from witnessing some real life enmeshed and codependents, people like Jensen don’t feel good enough and so tries to take the “mature” route by avoiding talking to their friend while feverishly working at themselves or at their jobs. In Jensen’s case, the prequel-turned-retconned-sequel.

Jared is not competing with Jensen because he has a thriving career, and in the post-SPN era Jensen’s actions didn’t cost Jared’s career, such promotion or a job. So it makes it possible for Jared to forgive Jensen if he choose to see the betrayal as mistakes that wasn’t malicious, but as business actions. Plus Jared may feel he partially owes his success to Jensen for talking him out of breaking is SPN contract after season 3, thus saving him from getting blacklisted by furious producers for costing them lucrative syndication deals.

Finally, Jared can forgive Jensen because he’s a friend, not a spouse. We can tolerate a lot of red flags in friends, my friend can be bad with money and make very questionable life choices, and if worse comes to worse down the road, I’ll just stop hanging out with my friend. But those same red flags can’t be tolerated in potential life-partners because the stakes are so much higher: buy property together, combining finances, raise a child (or pet) together, and rely on each other 100% when times get rough i.e. ill health.

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eievuimultimuse · 9 hours ago

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SUPERFLY CONTINUES TO quietly listen as Xever proceeds onwards with his explanation. ‘The world is a cesspool,’ indeed. Seems even for a former human as himself, Xever still understands just how much this world takes from people like them. How uncaring it could be. It took away someone very important to him, and even if he did still have people, it left him in a position of taking care of others and protecting them when he had needed that himself ( not that he would ever admit to such a thing ). It does admittedly ease his mind to know that they have a mutual understanding of that much.

Red hues reflect the bright lights as they drive past them, dimmed only by his brows continuing to knit together while Xever delves into the condition of his most recent form. He supposes he could understand the initial disdain he had for becoming a fish. Frankly, had Xever not specified that he prefers being this way now, Superfly would’ve assumed that he hated it the same way humans seemed to hate mutants. After all, he could understand how perhaps being a fish was as undesirable as being a fly ( he’d admit, it crossed his mind to wonder how much their Stockman enjoyed being one. But he’s trying not to think about it, because the thought of his father being a fly like him feels…WRONG, confessedly ).

Even without pupils, the slight movement of his head indicated that his gaze shifted to the air tank when the fish mutant confessed that he would DIE without it. A shiver involuntarily went down the fly’s spine at such a cruel thought. And his mind wanders to his own aquatic sibling, and he has to shake it lest he feel ill. “ That sounds awful, “ he says bluntly. Maybe Xever’s gotten used to it and doesn’t care, but even for someone like Superfly who had to do a lot to survive, it just sounds…unfortunate. But the statement applies to everything else he’s said too, especially the notion of having no autonomy over one’s own life.

“ My dad had fought t’ keep us from bein’ controlled and caged. It cost him his life. So I’m sure you can imagine just how much I despise the idea. “ It’d be no different than if the man had died for nothing, as far as he was concerned. The fly hesitates to share details about himself, but considering how much Xever decided to tell him just now, it only seemed right to return the favour.

“ Humans took his life. Turned on one of their own just ‘cause he was the only one who gave a damn about us. Then fourteen years later, some humans tried t’ kill me and my siblings. I nearly beat one of ‘em t’ death just to protect ‘em. “And myself, he decides not to add. He doesn’t like talking about what happened when he put himself between his family and that man, what happened when he caught up to him with his bat. It made Superfly feel small and he HATED that. “ After that, I realized life was never gonna be safe so long as humans were around. I still think that. My folks…wound up disagreeing for reasons I couldn’t freakin’ begin t’ tell you. After everything I did to protect them, they just…TURNED ON me in favour of the same people that hurt us. All ‘cause those turtles got it in their heads that humans are all that.Ridiculous. “

"Oh trust me you and I agree with that. Unlike you I never had anyone. I was alone my whole life, my parents threw me away like trash when I was still a kid. I had to struggle to survive completly on my own, with no one there to save me. This world is a cesspool and I hate it for what it did to me. And I hated it even more when I someone who was able to survive on my own became an invalid who was beholden to people who didn't care if I lived or died."

They turned a corner, more bright lights shooting past the pair. Xever felt he had to tell this story since he wanted to be honest for once. This guy had been dealt a hard hand too, so did Xever long to connect to him on some level? Did him being alone all the time cause it?

"I did hate what I became for a while. I mean, I was a landwalker who suddenly became a fish out of nowhere because of someone else's dumb choice. I was trapped in a tank for ages as they worked on the tech I have now. But, once that tech was made I was basically a puppet on strings which they could cut at any time they wanted. My life wasn't my own anymore and I had to just accept that."

Xever had a feeling Fly had some beef with humanity I mean most would they were a disgusting species who brought a lot of harm to the world around them. Xever never thought much of it though, he was never a big picture guy because survival was what he tended to focus on. And taking from others was how he had survived.

"I am so glad to be free, and I grew to accept what I am. Being a fish wasn't the problem it never was. It was the humans who sought to use that form against me to use it as a means to control me. I can't breathe air, in fact you could kill me right now if you destroyed my tank. I can't live without it or my legs. I am always one step away from death. So why not live upon that edge? That became my life."

#xeversayfishxace #SUPERFLY. / IC.#SUPERFLY. / VERSE 008. QUANTUM.#ask to tag //#death mention //#violence mention //#assault mention //

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ceolocunt · 8 months ago

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#today has been. such an insane day I dotn even know where to start #there is so much on my mind about my panrets and my sister and my friends and #im drunk rn btw. which explains everything #but I just dont kno whow to even begin to unpack how im feelin #I dont know where to start #I feel like im a million miles from all my friends because I AM (physically) (emotionally)#and I feel like im a million miles from my parents because I AM (emotionally)#I feel like im a million miles from help #ive been looking into residential programs and my therapist has supported this but I just have no idea how id approach this idea to my pare #parents.#bc I have in the past and like.#idk I just keep replaying this fucking memory of me showing my mom a hospital and saying “this looks like somewhere good for me"#and her saying “for your sister?” <- or smth like that. its been a year #im just. sad. all the time and especially when im drunk #me when the depressant depresses 🤯 aint no wayyyyy #but yeah its crazy how my parents are too tired to start shit to point out the obvious self harm scars ive gained since january.#shocker!!! <- this is a pattern #my parents love ignoring my self harm #im just so tired #im so tired #this is going to be a really hard summer I really need people to check in on me. hopefully #ill do what I can do talk to other people #also the urge to buy a pack of cigs is so fucking strong. I miss weed. I miss anything thats not fucking alcohol. I hate it!!! and yet #ironic my dad gave me his 30 days sober coin as a gift and now im drunk off my ass #also my ex texted me today im normal about that too. fuck that guy fr #anyway. idk. I havent showered yet tonight but I know im gonna regret it when I do. im just so sad and tired and done #its not even relapsing if ive been conisistently self harming for the past 6+++ months lmao I need to stop lying to myself. but I wont #im just tired. I want a hug. I want to stop being the one people rely on. I want to be loved without it feeling conditional #maybe I want too much and this is my punishment

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kelocitta · 3 months ago

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The last thing I'll say, and I'm saying it because it applies broadly- is that there is very rarely a perfect victim OR evil mastermind and everyone needs to get better at recognizing and responding to that fact. Victims of legitimate crimes or horrible acts can be aggressive, or bitter, or biased or a dozen things that make them 'unappealing' to listen too. They can have willfully exposed themselves to content or been in circles they really shouldn't have. They could have been given warning signs that they missed or outright ignored. They might exaggerate or misremember their claims. That does not mean they are no longer victims. If you completely missed the red flags and were taken advantage of- you were still taken advantage of. If you exposed yourself to harmful content that was upsetting or distressing, you were ultimately still exposed to harmful content. Maybe it is "your fault" for being there, but you were still there and it still happened. Especially in terms of online, its just shockingly very easy to end up in places where you are in danger of harm- and its shockingly easy to not notice that you may have put yourself in that position until its too late. If you want to be supportive of victims, you need to recognize that very often victims did things that were inappropriate themselves, put themselves in harmful situations, didn't back out when they should have, missed "obvious" signs... and are still a victim in the end. Likewise, abuse ranges from the intentional to the neglectful. Sometimes an abuser can even do both at once. People do harmful things completely on accident- even repeatedly. It can be mental illness or stress, it can be a dozen things- but yes sometimes people have patterns of behavior that are harmful and destructive that they either aren't aware of, in denial of, or don't get how bad they are about it. That does not erase the harm those behaviors cause. If you handle a situation poorly, it could just be that you handled it poorly- you didn't think through your actions or their implications. But from the receiving end, it doesn't matter how accidental it was, its going to often read as intentional, or a pattern, or whatever. And ultimately the harm is still done regardless of what it was. There is a world of difference between harm done intentionally and harm done through stupidity, neglect, or plain old mistake- but it not always easy to identify which is which- and harm is still done in the end. Sometimes people are harmed because someone saw an opportunity to do so, and sometimes they're harmed because no one stopped to question if it was even a risk. Both of those still ultimately result in someone getting hurt. The point of this is that if you are ever going to analyze situations critically you can not be looking for just "the good one" and "the bad one". You can't just weigh initial impressions on a scale and hope one side tips further and call it a day. Believing victims doesn't mean you need to throw caution to the wind, but likewise bad actors or misinformation doesn't mean your reaction should be that there couldn't possibly be victims. Be very mindful of how you interact in situations where someone was potentially hurt. Being 'critical' can easily boil over into disregard for harm- both the harm the involved might have done to each other and the harm you yourself do in how you respond to it.

#t.extpost #drama #i guess.#sorry i dont really want to talk to much about drama but #it was rubbing on me to see people act like whichever side they decided was in the right meant nothing bad ever happened to the other #sometimes everyone fucks up and everyone gets hurt in different ways!#even in situations where there IS a victim and clear undeniable abuser there is sometimes going to be victims who just look like the asshol #and theyre still going to have been the one hurt #and actual real abusers will use that to their advantage by going hey look at what an ass they are #othertimes people will be manipulative and awful and its mental illness and not evil. it doesn't erase the harm they cause through their #manipulation or by how they act but it does mean they didnt have a four year plan on how to ruin someones life #and probably shouldnt be treated or assumed as such. even if never forgiven for how they acted #looking only for evil masterminds also gives people an outlet to brush off the real issues with their behaviors #tdlr theres no easy answers to how to deal with these kind of things but we also cant pretend like the only thing we can do #is to pretend like theres never problematic people who are actively dangerous in their communities

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axolotlclown · 2 months ago

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So I finished Moominvalley season 4 and here is my review:

Of course, spoilers ahead! It's long. It's detailed. It's a bit much, and I spent hours writing it.

I greatly disliked this season, not just from one particular angle. When Moominvalley first came out, it was advertised as the first narrative-style adaptation. This would imply one concrete story that ran throughout the show. They said the story would take time and required patience, but there was a larger narrative story. What was that story exactly? In the beginning, each character was established with certain flaws that they needed to grow from.

For Moomintroll, throughout season 1, we see him struggle with his father's expectations. He never quite makes his own decisions—either doing what he's told or what other people in his life would do. In the last episode of the season, Midwinter Ancestor, Moomintroll is told by Too-Tikky to not open the closet door. Going against her wishes, he does so anyway. This is the first instance of Moomintroll making a decision for himself. In the end, it was a bad decision, and he regretted it, but it still was a big moment. We understand the importance of this journey when he changes out the picture by his bedside table. It was a baby photo with his parents; now, it's a photo of Moomintroll fully grown. This was meant to denote a journey of independence.

We see him continue with this struggle in season 2. The Hobgoblin's hat adds to the internalized identity crisis. During the lighthouse arc, Moomintroll is mostly doing his own thing, somewhat. Although, I think that cutting out his glade from the book sort of hurt this theme of independence. I hoped that they would revisit that somehow, but they never did. In season 3, Lonely Mountain, we see a sort of regression with Moomintroll. (Ignore how this affected Snufkin, I'll come back to this later.) When Moomintroll unpacks his things, we see a collection of items that represent Moomintroll's past. One of these items was the old baby picture. Aside from this episode, we don't see any notable growth from Moomintroll this season.

In season 4, we watch Moomintroll fall right back into his father's shadow. He continues to struggle to carve his own path. The set up for Comet in Moominland was promising, but ultimately did not deliver. When Moomintroll goes against his friends to make a decision for himself, it turns out to be a bad decision that he regrets later, and someone else has to guide him out of the situation.

Moomintroll ends from the same place he started as a character. All growth is erased and ignored. While this is the most egregious example—with him being the protagonist—he is not the only character that this happens with.

Snufkin probably upsets me the most, as he had so much potential to be the most interesting character in the series. In season 1, The Spring Tune, we see where Snufkin is starting as far as his strengths and flaws go. What particularly intrigued me was his relationship to attachment. We see that Snufkin ultimately fears abandonment, and he copes with this in conflicting ways. He wants to be with Moomintroll out of fear of being left behind, but he is afraid that he feels this way. He tries to create distance between him and Moomintroll in an attempt to ease what he experiences as pain. This is demonstrated further in the next episode, The Last Dragon in the World, when he frees the dragon. We see his struggle with responsibility and commitment in Snufkin and the Park Keeper.

In season 2, The Hobgoblin's Hat, Snufkin is explaining to Moomintroll what the King's Ruby is. The ruby functions as a metaphor for love throughout the season. Moomintroll imagines that the Hobgoblin must love this ruby, while Snufkin argues that he only wants to possess it. While both may be correct in their own ways, they fail to understand each other. As a result, Snufkin decides to leave Moomintroll out of fear of being possessed himself under the false pretense that he is helping with the hat (he did not). We never visit this plot point again.

Snufkin has some large developments in season 3. In the Lonely Mountain, we see Snufkin break down his walls and let Moomintroll in. He acknowledges his responsibility to him and his longing to see him. Unfortunately, this aspect of his character is completely abandoned in season 4.

Back to season 1, Snufkin and the Park Keeper, we get a flashback in which Snufkin is enjoying a party with Moomintroll until he is overwhelmed by the presence of others. He winds up abandoning Moomintroll and the valley. He does this again in season 2, The Hobgoblin's Hat, as discussed above. In season 3, Snufkin and the Fairground, Snufkin chooses not to abandon his responsibility to Moomintroll or the valley. When faced with an uncomfortable challenge, he chooses to stay and support Moomintroll.

In season 4, The Great Cold, when faced with a crowded challenge, Snufkin abandons Moomintroll again. While he appears later in the episode, it felt disingenuous to me. The original problem had already been solved. In Comet in Moominvalley, Snufkin does not abandon Moomintroll. In fact, he makes an active effort to stay by his side. But it feels strange, almost undeserved? We saw so little of Snufkin this season, and when we did, he spent his screen time backtracking his progress.

In season 3, Lonely Mountain, Snufkin has a small monologue about listening to the campfire as the sparks dance and fly. Well, the whole episode was about listening. Anyway, that was a call back to the season 1 episode, The Invisible Child, in which Too-Tikky tells Moomintroll that there are many lost souls in Moominvalley that needed to be heard. The screen then cut to Snufkin leaving the valley. It would have been really cool to find out what that meant!

His abandonment issues never really get addressed. Refusing to let Snufkin meet his father was just baiting the audience. It was also just bad writing! What's his deal—where's his lore?? Who made him like this? Why is he so afraid of intimacy? Why are basic fundamental questions about this main character being left unanswered?

It really is disappointing. Every adaptation (and the books, if we're being honest) treat Snufkin like a stoic hero. He doesn't want to be looked up to, yet he's always painted as a character that you should. This is the first adaptation that gave him flaws. He felt like a character that needed growth and time. He was never given either.

I won't spend so much time on Snorkmaiden, even though she was robbed, too. She never grew to be more independent apart from Moomintroll. In the same vein as Moomintroll and Snufkin, her character ends exactly the way she started. All of her character growth vanished in seasons 3 and 4. I love this version of Snorkmaiden. I certainly prefer it to her other portrayals. But the writers screwed her over so bad, it's heartbreaking.

None of the characters actually learn or change. Everyone sort of becomes a static character, which makes any semblance of a plot impossible to write. For the fun of it, I will try to decode a plot, anyway.

So, you're not crazy. Moomintroll and Snufkin were set up to be endgame. There was a way to make Moomintroll and Snorkmaiden endgame in a satisfying way, but the writers chose against it. It's a very suspicious backtracking that reeks of queerbaiting, but let me explain the narrative romance angles first.

I feel unsatisfied with the ending Moomintroll and Snorkmaiden got. Throughout seasons 1 and 2, they would frequently lie for each other's approval, and jealousy was a common player. They would ignore each other when someone more interesting came along. Ultimately, what led to the break up in season 2, Farwell Snorkmaiden, was the understanding that Snorkmaiden was just more mature than Moomintroll. In her own way, she was ready for a serious committed relationship, and Moomintroll was not.

However, there was never a formal conversation of them getting back together. They just sort of were? And all of the problems in their relationship were never resolved. They still lied to each other and ignored one another for something shinier all the time. It was irritating. These two became no better than Sniff in the end. I'm standing on business with that.

I'm also not convinced that Moomintroll and Snorkmaiden can have a healthy relationship after the finale. They will definitely break up again. They haven't resolved any of the issues that led to their original break.

Okay, so Moomintroll and Snufkin. Let's chat about that for a while. The first three episodes establish Moomintroll, Snufkin, and their relationship together (in that order). We, as viewers, are led to believe that their relationship (either romantic or platonic) is the key to understanding the story. Throughout seasons 1 and 2, every single motif for love (lanterns, fires, the ruby, etc.) that is introduced is done with Moomintroll and Snufkin. Regardless, different expressions of love and intimacy were the focal point of the show. That was almost completely abandoned in seasons 3 and 4. While turning the focus on the greater community could have added depth, it ultimately detracted from the close personal relationships that were driving the narrative.

So, the Groke. She does not just represent fear, she is a reflection of each character's own fears. I loved this! I thought it was a really cool concept, and the ways that she was portrayed in seasons 1 and 2 were excellent. Here's the thing. In her introduction in season 1, Night of the Groke, we are also introduced to lanterns/fires as a motif about love. The Groke is chasing love and craves acceptance. It's not quite something you can catch, and trying to is a failed endeavor. Brilliant episode. We saw what Snufkin's greatest fear was earlier in the season (loving Moomintroll), but we needed to pay more attention to see Moomintroll's fear. I think it was complex. On one hand, with the lanterns, Moomintroll could also be afraid to love Snufkin. However, as we saw at the end of Moomintroll and the Seahorses, he needs to learn independence before he can love someone. This was also reinforced through Snorkmaiden in Farwell Snorkmaiden. The fires and lanterns were constant reoccurring motifs (not just for Moomintroll and Snufkin, though that's where the focus is right now). Rewatch the season 3 episode, Lonely Mountain, and that one monologue that Snufkin gives will start to make sense.

By abandoning these important motifs, the Groke's conclusion feels unfinished. It just felt wrong. In the end, she did just represent fear. This completely erased the layer of depth that she had to start.

For Moomintroll to learn to be more independent and self-reliant, he needed to learn from Snufkin. For Snufkin to learn to accept love and responsibility, he needed to learn from Moomintroll. They were the keys to each other's growth. When they were together, the plot moved. When they weren't, the episodes felt like filler for the most part.

Also, small detail, despite the change in one photo (the baby photo to grown Moomintroll) the photo with Moomintroll and Snufkin never changed. Which narratively makes no sense.

The writers originally set this up for them to be romantically involved. Which, given the context of their dynamic in the books and comics, makes sense. It's not as much of a stretch as people are trying to gaslight themselves into believing. These characters were originally heavily queer coded. However, the original text is sort of a tragedy. No matter what happened, Moomintroll and Snufkin could never truly be together—no matter how much they tried. This mirrored Tove Jansson's relationship to her first fiance Atos Wirtanen as well as her relationship to her own queerness. However, it looked like Moominvalley wanted something different. Queer people had enough tragic stories told already. This one would tell queer kids that it was going to be okay, and that they were going to find love. Tove Jansson's original message about love and freedom was finally going to be understood.

Instead, not only was this potentially beautiful story abandoned, it was mocked. In the season 4 episode, Midsummer Meddling, there was a scene I found quite shocking. Sniff had convinced himself that he was to fall in love with somebody. One of his "love interests" was a male scarecrow. This is the only openly queer semblance of romance that we got and it was played off as a joke. In the final season. They didn't even backtrack Moomintroll and Snufkin, they just completely ignored everything that was set up.

In the final episode, Comet in Moominland, there was an incredibly brief exchange between Moomintroll and Snufkin about who looked up to who. This would have been a fantastic place to give these characters some sort of conclusion, but we don't get that. In all of the 45 minute special, the characters are never prioritized. In the whole season, even. Really, not a single character got a satisfying conclusion, but Moomintroll and Snufkin were the most important.

This is a powerful and historic piece of queer media. Tove Jansson's queer legacy was so iconic that she was directly cited as an influence in the legalization of same sex marriage in Finland. Her work proved to further the queer community. Despite sodomy laws and fear of incarceration, Jansson continued to do what she could to tell her own queer story. That is what Moomin is. That is its legacy.

I was prepared to defend Gutsy if Snufmin didn't go canon. At the end of the day, it's usually TV execs threatening to pull the whole show off the air. The show was too costly to risk any interesting writing. However, the writers didn't recover, and some of the writing just felt downright melicious at times.

Anyway, if you love slice-of-life content, you probably loved this season and the show's conclusion. It is such a shame that the creators promised something completely different from what the show turned out to be. It's no surprise that viewers are disappointed.

I do have one more thing to say ☝️😀. This is going to hurt Moomin's mission to expand to the US. It's been very obvious that they have been trying to expand to North America. Brave and bold writing would have caught the attention of new viewers. Instead, few Americans are going to recommend this show to others. Aside from that, the next logical move is to make an American adaptation. Good luck trying to find a competent YA cartoon creator that won't threaten to walk off the project if they can't have Snufmin. That being said, they'll have better luck making that canon here anyway. (Everybody say, "thank you Rebecca Sugar and Pendleton Ward.")

Well, in the end, I don't think the fight to make Snufmin a real, transparent queer story ends with Moominvalley. I can say, though, that the prioritization of profit over respect and love for others is not at all what Tove Jansson would have wanted.

Seasons 1 and 2 were peak, and season 3, episode 8, was batshit insane. That is all.

#this took me several hours to type out #but im glad i did #i feel like theres so much more to talk about #and theres so many more episodes i can rant about #but i more so want to hear what other people think #homophobia won today #and so did bad writing #sad!#thoughts of dante #moomin #moominvalley #moominvalley season 4 #side tangent #the joxter having a song called you keep me warm when we already have a motif about fires and warmth and love #and then we dont do anything with that #they barely did anything narratively with the joxter #i love him so much and i love his voice actor #but hes really representative of the greater problem with that season #huge missed potential #hes there for three total episodes but does not add to a single characters development and least of all the overall plot #maybe ill make a separate post and the motifs and how they were completely abandoned in season 4

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