#in the end she's a hero so it's a trivial thing

[t-u-i-t-c]

WEEK OF TOKU LADIES │ DAY 2

FAVORITE TRANSFORMING HERO → KAMEN RIDER POPPY

[words-4u]

down to their bones

pairing: jordan li x f!reader

wc: 875

warnings: none, a bit angsty, minor jealousy, lots of fluff

a/n: listened to your bones by clesea culter while writing this and kind of used it as an inspo - don't have to listen to it but you should for vibes especially near the end

hero ethics was once a class you were excited for but now that you were a month into the course, you realize it's not at all what you expected.

all you do is watch a shit ton of videos and theorize hypotheticals, there's nothing even remotely physical involved which is what you really wanted the most.

instead here you were with lia, your partner for an upcoming presentation that dean shetty insisted the class do after she took over for brink. 

“you know i still can’t believe shetty wants us to speak for 20 full minutes on ‘aero dynamics of human flight’” you said looking at the late professor brink’s book before tossing it to the side. “i can’t even fly!”

“well, i can and it doesn’t take a rocket science to figure out how,” lia laughed. she was sprawled on your double bed that was littered with two copies of the book, laptops, pens and little stickies. “i’m a hands on learner, i need to be out there in the open skies.”

she fell back on your bed and in to a fake daydream. 

“i think someone needs to get their head out of the clouds and help me with this presentation or else we’ll fail,” you leaned in playfully tapping her forehead with a highlighter. of course this is the exact most your significant other, jordan, walks in to your room.

“uuuh…hello?” jordan said. they walked in clearly having come back from the gym, in their baggy shorts, cropped blue sweater and their short bob in a ponytail.

they were expecting to find you on your own, wanting to spend the rest of the evening with you, not to find you on your bed with another girl.

“hi babe,” you raced to jordan and placed your hands on their shoulders as you kissed them. you knew something was off the second they didn’t kiss back and you were right because as you pulled back, their eyes were glued to your bed. where lia was. 

“i’m sorry, and who are you?” jordan snapped. you were slightly taken aback because this was a side of jordan you haven't seen.

“jordan, that’s lia, my partner for hero ethics and lia this is jordan, my partner outside of hero ethics and everything else,” you smiled between the two people in your room.

“yeah, they are ranked number 5 in the whole school, y/n, i know who they are. i just didn’t know you were dating a star student,” lia said looking impressed. 

“you didn’t know?” jordan parroted. “she didn’t know?”

“we got paired up like 4 hours ago on this project. it wasn’t exactly at the top of my list of things to speak to her about.”  you whispered. 

you turned to lia. “um, i’m just gonna talk to jordan outside for like 5 minutes, you can take a break if you want.”

lia gave two thumps up before pulling out her vphone.

you grabbed jordan by the wrist and dragged them out of your dorm and into the hall way. there were a couple students walking up and down the hall and some more in a corner chatting about the latest viral video from the Seven but overall it was empty enough to have this much needed conversation.

by the time you shut your door, jordan had shifted to their male form.

“what the hell is wrong you?” you asked poking their shoulder. 

jordan clenched their jaw. “what are you talking about?”

“w-what am i talking about?” you asked back. “i’m talking about the fact that lia is lucky you don’t have laser eyes or she’d fucking toast. literally!”

“i walk into your room and you have another girl on your bed, y/n, how am i supposed to feel?”

the look on their face was suddenly transparent and it dawned on you.

“you’re jealous? over a classmate? is that it?” you asked, this time your voice carrying a softer tone. 

jordan didn’t look too pleased with the fact that they let something so trivial get to them.

“j, use your words,”

“you guys just looked so close,” they said looking at you with their big brown eyes.

you sighed. “well, we’re not. but we do need to get along cause this project is worth 30% and you know your girl can’t and won’t fail,” you said which caused them to smile a bit.

“besides,” you continued pushing their back against the wall and wrapping your hands around their neck. “i’m sort of already in love with someone, like right down to their bones, and as long as they are in my life no one else stands a chance.”

jordan leaned their forehead against yours. “i’m sorry for how i reacted. it was shitty.”

“apology accepted,” you whispered. “now give me a kiss. a proper one this time,”

jordan brushed their lips against your before kissing the air out of you. it was getting a little too hot for two people standing in a hallway and you were never one for major pda so you pulled away smiling.

“okay now you're just being a distraction,” you grinned up at them.

“okay, fine i’ll go but just to make sure, it was me who you were talking about, right?”

you chuckled playfully shoving them down the hall. “yes, you big idiot. now go and come back in 2 hours when you can really make it up to me.”

jordan smirked. “i’ll be counting down the seconds."

if you want to request something, there's a link in my bio (the more detailed the better <3)

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Blue and Fire Engine Red Pt 8

Kara tries to pivot them back towards the normal they’ve established so far. After all, nothing for her has changed– Lena is still a hero, and Kara still… Kara still wants to love her. But she can sense the difference in the way Lena behaves towards her. Responses to Kara’s texts over the following days come fewer and farther between, personable enough but lacking the spark they’d held before. Soon, Kara realizes that what little communication there is, Lena’s stopped initiating.

There’s a wall between them, even when they manage to sneak a dinner together midweek. Lena’s smiles are thin, distant, like a wall has been erected between them. Lena guards herself now in a way she hadn’t before, and the longer Kara lets it be, hoping things will naturally drift back to the way it was, the more Lena pulls away.

Finally, on a night Lena begs off a meet up due to pulling an extra shift at the firehouse, Kara goes to visit her– only to find Lena not there and not ever scheduled to be on duty. A finger of icy dread creeps down Kara’s spine as she drives to Lena’s.

When she arrives, she pounds on Lena’s door. “Lena! It’s me! Open up!”

There’s music from inside, loud and angry and patent evidence that Lena is within. She pounds again and again, then ceaselessly until finally she hears the lock snick back. The door opens, revealing Lena sweating and flushed, hands wrapped for boxing.

This time, Lena doesn’t bother to feign interest in Kara’s presence. Her eyes remain dark, features stormy when she retreats back inside without a word, leaving the door open to follow if she wishes. 

The music continues to blast from the mid-sized speaker in the corner, soon accompanied by the beat of Lena’s fists slamming into the punching bag again and again. Kara waits a moment for Lena to pause and catch her breath, but she continues without flagging, until Kara loses her patience and yanks the speaker’s power cord from the wall. 

It does nothing to slow Lena’s pace. The force of her blows swings the bag to one side then the other, to the point that it rattles Kara’s bones when she moves to brace it. Still, she refuses to back down.

“We need to talk,” she states with a calm she doesn’t quite feel.

“So talk,” Lena huffs, jabbing with an uppercut that nearly knocks Kara back a step. Kara doesn’t relent. 

“I said we.”

Lena’s jaw visibly clenches, and she finally breaks away from the bag, breathing heavily. Kara hesitates, suddenly unsure what to say to navigate the storm gathering around Lena. She crosses her arms over her chest to steady herself. 

“Shutting me out after I told you I wouldn’t push is a dick move.”

Lena snorts. “Yet here you are.” 

“Because I care about you. Respecting your boundaries doesn’t mean I have to just stand there as you drift away. Not after everything–”

“Everything? Everything over, what, a month? How special.”

“Don’t,” Kara growls. “Don’t trivialize how I feel, and don’t you dare pretend you don’t feel it too.”

“And so what if I do?!” Lena’s shout cuts through the air. “Compatibility consists of more than just good sex–”

“Oh fuck you,” Kara snaps back. She takes a step forward even as Lena moves back. She sighs. “Look. I know I pressed closer than you were ready for. I’m sorry.” She gazes at Lena, searching for her girlfriend beyond the anger. “Could we just– reset?” 

“Reset? Really?”

Kara nods. “Yeah. Because one month or no, I like you, Lena. And that’s all I’m asking for. You.”

That at least, seems to give Lena pause. She hesitates, brow furrowing as she studies Kara. In the end though, her gaze slides away once more. Kara’s heart falls.

“It’s not that simple,” Lena murmurs.

“And that is 100% your choice,” Kara shoots back. Complicated doesn’t have to be complicated if Lena doesn’t want it to be. If she does, Kara doesn’t care. “I’m not looking for simple.”

Lena scowls, but says nothing. Kara scowls right back. 

“You have trauma. Trust me, I get it. But you don’t get to punish me for caring about you.” At that, Lena nearly flinches, guilt flashing behind her eyes as she looks away. “And waiting for me to drift away is just mean.”

Lena still doesn’t say anything, but now it feels less guarded and more at a loss for words.

“I get that you’re not ready to share, okay? And I get that you may never want to. I just want to be the one there if you do. That is what I’m looking for.”

When silence answers her yet again, Kara loses patience. “And if that’s not something you want– if I am not what you want, fine. But at least have the balls to tell me outright.”

With that, Kara turns on her heel and storms out. She’s just jabbed the button for the elevator when she hears a door open behind her. “Kara!”

Turning, Kara sees Lena standing in the middle of the hallway. Her anger seems to have evaporated, leaving her bereft of anything more to say. The elevator dings open behind Kara, and she has half a mind to enter it out of spite, but her heart speaks louder. She retraces her steps back down the hall, drifting to a stop in front of Lena. She waits.

Lena takes a breath to speak, then another, but nothing comes out. Green eyes meet Kara’s, as though imploring her to understand whatever it is she can’t say. Though the ball of anger in her gut cools, she stands firm.

“I’m not a mind reader,” she says.

Exhaling, Lena closes her eyes. Again, her words seem to fail her, but Kara gives her time to gather herself. Finally, Lena rallies against whatever ties her tongue. 

“I like you,” she says, her voice low. “More– more than I should.”

Kara frowns– she doesn’t necessarily like the sound of that. But at least it’s honest.

“I don’t– jesus.” Lena wipes the sweat from her upper lip, her frustration plain. ���There are things… things I never want you to know.”

In spite of herself, the words kick Kara in the chest. She means it when she says she doesn’t need Lena’s past. But she does want her trust. Kara releases a breath. “I told you I don’t care.”

Lena shakes her head. Suddenly, Kara realizes it’s not the only part of Lena that shakes. Her hands tremble, as much as Lena tries to hide it by picking at her hand wraps. 

“You say that now–”

Kara’s features harden. “Don’t insult me by comparing me to anyone else, and don’t you dare assume for me that I’ll change my mind.”

Lena swallows audibly, and only then does Kara realize the anguish in Lena’s posture. She’s never seen Lena like this, and she knows Lena had pulled away from her because drifting away was the easiest way to let her go. But right now, Lena is facing the most difficult path– for her. Kara softens. 

“Hey,” she says, reaching out to still Lena’s fidgeting hands. “We’ve been having a good time, haven’t we?”

Lena exhales, nodding. “Yeah,” she breathes. 

“And we were having a good time before Hector told me anything, and without me knowing anything you don’t want me to know. We can keep this going without it.”

“But…”

“If anything changes, for either of us, we can have this conversation again.”

Lena frowns. “It’ll be harder then. To let you go.”

Kara offers her a thin smile. “That’s the risk we take, when we decide to share any part of ourselves with another person. But I promise you– all I want is now, with you. Now, and however much of the future we get.”

The next thing she knows, warm lips press against hers. Lena’s mouth is soft, transferring the salt of her sweat to Kara’s tongue. Wrapped hands frame Kara’s face, before Lena’s forehead rests against hers.

“I want that too,” Lena breathes. “God, I want that so much.”

Kara hears the shake in her whisper, the tremble in Lena’s hands against her skin. She’s afraid, Kara realizes. Truly afraid. Questions and dread bubble in Kara’s chest, but she tamps them down, curling her fingers around Lena’s and giving them a firm squeeze.

“Then let’s do it. Together.”

Lena takes another quaking breath.

“Okay.”

[callsigns-haze]

You love letters in jail...

Pairing: Rhysand x reader Warning: This chapter contains explicit sexual content and emotional turmoil SMUT. Summary: In a moment of passion and vulnerability, Rhysand implores YN to stay with him, but she grapples with the weight of her responsibilities as High Lady of the Court of the Lost Gods.

Song I kinda used is Prison for life because 🎶I'm a feminist, obviously But I wouldn't really mind him savin' me And I know that I'm fine without a man But I think I would like his protection I'm just bein' honest, can't change what I like I'll never forget it, he told me one night If anybody hurts you, hah I'm goin' to prison for life🎶

This can be read alone or with Prison for life.

As YN lay nestled against Rhysand's chest, the gentle rise and fall of his breath soothing her like a lullaby, she couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over her. His fingers traced lazy patterns through her hair, each touch sending a shiver of pleasure down her spine as she reveled in the intimacy of their shared moment.

"So," Rhysand murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent warmth flooding through her veins, "about earlier..."

YN tilted her head up to meet his gaze, her heart fluttering at the playful glint in his eyes. "Oh, you mean when you swooped in to save me from certain doom?" she teased, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Rhysand chuckled, the sound vibrating against her skin like a gentle caress. "Yes, that," he replied, his tone light with amusement. "I couldn't just let you get eaten by that thing, now could I?"

YN laughed, the sound melodic and carefree in the quiet of the room. "I suppose not," she conceded, her fingers tracing idle patterns against his chest. "But you didn't have to make such a dramatic entrance."

Rhysand raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Oh, but where's the fun in that?" he countered, his voice tinged with amusement. "Besides, I thought you liked a little bit of drama in your life."

YN chuckled, leaning in to press a soft kiss against his chest. "Only when it's accompanied by a dashing hero," she teased, her eyes twinkling with mirth.

Rhysand grinned, his fingers tangling gently in her hair as he pulled her closer. "Well, lucky for you, you've got the most dashing hero of them all," he replied, his voice soft with affection.

As they lay together in the quiet warmth of the night, their laughter mingling with the soft rustle of the sheets, YN couldn't help but feel grateful for the easy banter and playful teasing that defined their relationship. In Rhysand's arms, she felt safe, cherished, and utterly, completely loved—a feeling she never wanted to end.

As the conversation shifted to more lighthearted topics, YN found herself tracing lazy circles on Rhysand's chest, her mind drifting to the moments they shared, both playful and profound.

"You know," Rhysand began, his voice low and contemplative, "I never thought I'd find someone who could match my wit and sarcasm quite like you do."

YN chuckled softly, the sound muffled against his skin. "Is that a compliment or an insult?" she teased, her lips curving into a playful smile.

Rhysand's laughter rumbled beneath her, a warm vibration that sent a flutter of warmth through her chest. "Take it however you like," he replied, his tone teasing. "But I have to admit, it's refreshing to have someone who can keep up with me."

As they bantered back and forth, their conversation meandering through topics both trivial and profound, YN couldn't help but marvel at the easy rapport they shared. With Rhysand, she felt seen, understood, and accepted for who she truly was—a feeling that filled her with a sense of joy and contentment unlike anything she had ever known.

Feeling a surge of desire coursing through her veins, YN lifted herself from where she lay against Rhysand's chest, her eyes locking with his as she straddled him, a playful grin dancing on her lips. Leaning down, she captured his mouth in a passionate kiss, her lips molding to his with a fierce hunger that left them both breathless.

Rhysand responded eagerly, his arms wrapping around her waist as he deepened the kiss, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her closer. Their bodies pressed together, a symphony of heat and desire as they lost themselves in the intensity of their shared passion.

As their kisses grew more fervent, YN felt a fire igniting within her, a primal need that burned hotter with each passing moment. She trailed kisses along Rhysand's jawline, down his neck, reveling in the taste and feel of him beneath her touch.

With a low growl of desire, Rhysand flipped them over, pinning YN beneath him as he claimed her lips in a searing kiss. Their bodies moved together in perfect harmony, each touch igniting sparks of pleasure that danced along their skin.

As their lips fervently explored one another, Rhysand's voice, husky with desire, broke through the haze of passion. "Lift your hips for me," he murmured against her lips, his words sending a shiver of anticipation down YN's spine.

With a breathless nod, YN complied, arching her back as she lifted her hips to meet his touch. Rhysand's hands traced a path of fire along her curves, his lips trailing kisses along her neck and collarbone before descending lower, capturing her breast in a hungry kiss.

As Rhysand's lips teased and tantalized her sensitive skin, YN's breath hitched in her throat, her fingers tangling in his hair as she surrendered to the waves of pleasure coursing through her. Each flick of his tongue, each gentle nip of his teeth, sent sparks of ecstasy dancing along her nerves, drawing soft gasps of pleasure from her lips.

With a low growl of desire, Rhysand's hands trailed down her body, his touch setting her ablaze as he worshipped her with a reverence that left her breathless. Lost in the intoxicating whirlwind of sensation, YN gave herself over completely to the moment, her heart soaring as she melted into the exquisite pleasure of Rhysand's touch.

As their bodies melded together in a passionate embrace, Rhysand's desire for YN grew more intense, his need for her undeniable. With a deep, primal hunger burning within him, he guided himself to her slick entrance, the anticipation of their union sending a surge of electricity coursing through both of them.

With a shared gasp of ecstasy, Rhysand slowly entered YN, inch by tantalizing inch, his length stretching her slick walls as they merged together in a union of pure bliss. The sensation of him filling her completely sent waves of pleasure crashing over her, her body arching against his in a silent plea for more.

As Rhysand began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, YN clung to him desperately, her nails digging into his back as she surrendered herself to the intoxicating rhythm of their lovemaking. Each thrust sent sparks of ecstasy shooting through her veins, her senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of their connection.

Lost in the throes of passion, Rhysand and YN moved together as one, their bodies moving in perfect harmony as they chased the pinnacle of pleasure. With each thrust, each gasp, they drew closer to the edge, their passion building like a wildfire raging out of control.

And then, with a shared cry of ecstasy, they tumbled over the edge together, their bodies convulsing in the throes of release as they were consumed by the sheer intensity of their love. In that moment of pure bliss, nothing else mattered but the two of them, locked together in a timeless embrace as they soared to heights of pleasure they had never known before.

As they lay together, their bodies still trembling with the echoes of their passion, Rhysand's arms wrapped around her in a tender embrace. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, his voice soft and filled with emotion as he spoke.

"Stay with me," he whispered, his words a plea wrapped in longing. "Don't go back to the Court of the Lost Gods. Stay here, with me."

YN's heart fluttered at his words, torn between the love she felt for Rhysand and the responsibilities that awaited her back at the court. She searched his eyes, seeing the depth of his affection reflected in their depths, and felt her resolve waver.

But as she opened her mouth to respond, she found herself at a loss for words. The weight of her duties pressed down upon her like a heavy burden, reminding her of the obligations she had sworn to uphold as High Lady.

"I... I don't know," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper as uncertainty gnawed at her heart. "I want to stay with you, Rhys. But I have responsibilities back at the court. I can't just abandon them."

Rhysand's expression softened, his fingers brushing gently against her cheek as he leaned in to kiss her tenderly. "I understand," he said, his voice filled with quiet understanding. "But know that my heart will always be here, waiting for you. No matter what path you choose, I'll be here, ready to love you with everything I am."

Tears pricked at the corners of YN's eyes as she gazed into Rhysand's eyes, overwhelmed by the depth of his love and devotion. In that moment, she realized that no matter where life's journey took her, she would always carry Rhysand's love with her, a beacon of hope guiding her through even the darkest of times.

With a trembling smile, she reached out to take his hand, intertwining their fingers together in a silent promise. "Thank you, Rhys," she whispered, her voice filled with love and gratitude. "For everything."

And as they lay together in the quiet embrace of the night, their hearts entwined in a bond that transcended time and space, YN knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, she would face them with Rhysand by her side, their love a light to guide them through the darkness.

Tagging some:

@callsign-magnolia

@kmc1989

@djs8891

@hardballoonlove

@callsign-dexter

@senawashere

@hookslove1592

@rosiahills22

@marvel-molly

[glaciertea]

Masterlist here~

Tales the Songs Weave

>>Ch.2

Summary: Miguel O'Hara is a leader. A leader who doesn't let anyone or anything distract him from the tasks at hand.

He's focused, unwavering, and ruthless.

But what happens when he abruptly pulls away from his territory and wanders into an unknown playing field he hasn't faced in forever?

Many say love holds no bounds, but how much will he be willing to break for you?

Word count: 1.5K

Chapter 1: You're A Natural, Living it so Cutthroat

My name is Miguel O'Hara.

I'm this dimension’s one and only 

Spider-Man… at least I thought I was… 

but I'm not like the others. 

“...el.”

I do things that others won't be able to do.

“...uel!” 

I've seen things that others will never see.

“...iguel!”

And I've given up too much to stop now…

“MIGUEL!”

A familiar voice sprung him out of his inner reflections as he snarled, snapping his head back at the figure below.

Jess crossed her arms over her growing pregnant stomach, glaring at her brooding boss. Her neck slightly craned, wondering why his platform must be at the highest point instead of closer to any subordinate that has the pleasure of communicating with him. 

“I'm here to give the reports for today's anomalies that were captured.”

Miguel twisted his body towards his dozens of monitors cascading, entrapped all over. A grunt escaped his throat as his eyes darted from screen to screen, typing away at whatever was tossed onto him. 

His second in command sneered, rolling her eyes at the permanently irritated man. 

Though it gets to a point where one is used to his tendencies. This is just who he is. The burden that copious amounts of spiders have to compromise with.

“Also, there's been a recent increase in anomalies as of late. Rampant even. We were wondering if we could get any input on that.” Jess clicked at her watch, sending the information to her ill-tempered leader, wanting to get this over with as much as him.

“Later.” Miguel refused to gaze behind him.

“Actually, I would prefer now so we can get a semi-head start on th-”

“I said later!” Miguel barked, going over the notes he received.

Jess scoffed, resting her hands on her hips. She wasn't going to allow him to speak to her in any sort of way. Jess is one of the few with the ability to pierce through Miguel's ‘bullshit.’

“As I said, I'm going to need that info ASAP. Presumably after you're done with those documents. Thank you.” She drolly spoke.

Before Miguel could offer a rebuttal, Jess was already making her exit out of his space, refusing to deal with him anymore for the time being. The man twitched as his claws dug through his metal desk. There's never any rest for the wicked, yet this is the life he must heed. The precedents he exposed to himself and those underneath his wing. 

He doesn't enjoy this harrowing cold stature, but it's the only manner that will get things done. 

He inhabited the lifestyle he was forced to construct. Harboring all the burdens so the others won't make the same mistakes he committed. The sins that constantly dangle over his head every single second, of every minute, of every day.

That perpetual reminder of what and who he is. 

Miguel lingered at his workstation for another hour and a half, as he found unhealthy comfort being close by it. If he never unoccupied his space, work will always be completed in functioning order. He begrudgingly issued data and charts towards Jessica, mostly as an excuse for her not to return and harass him any further. 

His tasks were going smoothly. No interruptions, no trivial disturbances from the other heroes. All was fluid sailing on his end. 

And that was very off-putting for him, but he decided to brush it off.

Ten minutes passed by as Miguel decided to view the footage of him and Gabi, the main reason why any of this exists in the first place. His main reminder to abide by is to focus on the main goal at hand. 

Keeping the multiverse safe. 

A miniscule smile began to form as the video rewinded and began to play… until the orange iridescent screens dimmed off. Silence rang throughout his area. Then a shattering crash of glass sprinkling surrounded the air.

“Lyla!”

The tiny hologram teleported in the air, casually waving her fingers as if she hadn't witnessed her creator violently hurl a computer at the wall. 

“Heya boss, what's the fi- hey, hey whoa!” Miguel's claws went to snag Lyla as she rapidly flickered several feet away from him.

“Isn't that a bit unnece-”

“¡¿Qué carajo pasó?!” He rammed his fist down onto the heavily abused desk.

“Uh, did you forget? Undergoing system maintenance today.” The A.I. brought up a digital calendar with a date circled in pink glitter marker and heart stickers surrounding it. 

Only a scowl etched across his already disdainful face. This wasn't helping Lyla's case at all. Lyla tapped her nail on the date, only increasing Miguel's fury. 

“The twelfth? Which is today?” She gestured toward the number.

His expression didn't waver. He should have been one of the first to be alerted about this. 

“Why wasn't I advised?!” Miguel hissed enough for spittle to fly out. 

Work needed to be done. Required. He doesn't have time for any delays; he must be the one to upkeep the endeavor of the headquarters. The multiverse. Everything. 

Lyla shifted her glasses near the bridge of her nose, raising a brow. “You were. In fact, you were the very first to attain that scheduling because you appointed the date, Miguel.”

He made an effort to recall, but the more he dug, the memories refused to pop up. Prepared to refute and prone Lyla for her attempts to gaslight him, she came equipped with several angles of Miguel hunched over, deep within some tasks as usual. 

The displayed date in the top left corner was a week prior, as a cautious Spider-Byte scrolled up to the high-rise platform. The teen announced her presence, only to be greeted with completely nothing. Spider-Byte clearly struggled to flag down his attention until a jeering ‘what’ sprang out of him. 

"We're still on for the system shutdown on the twelfth, correct?” 

Hushed. Nothing. 

“Yo, are we still on for the-”

Miguel hollered out for Lyla to jot down the time frame for it as the assistant saluted and disappeared.

Miguel dismissed an agitated Spider-Byte who threw her arms up, murmuring underneath her breath as she vacated the area, clearly refusing to deal with him any longer.

Lyla blipped the feed away and leaned back, crossing her legs as if she were pretending to be seated in a chair.

“So, you have the rest of tonight unofficially officially off just like the others. So… have fun!” Lyla retreated, abandoning him in solitude. 

That made sense as to why Miguel wasn't disturbed for the last duration of his work period. No one was essentially able to commute to the HQ. He remained static for a few minutes. The solemn, stagnant atmosphere was the only element left. There was an occasional whirring of a machine, but there was nothing else.

This isn't something to get used to. Something he wasn't used to.

He slumped himself on the metallic flooring, desolate. When duties aren't demanded, he doesn't exactly know how to handle the implanted turmoil racing deep in his mind. 

He pulled his watch near his face as it only presented his world, the time, and a missed alarm flashing. He pressed the tiny button as a message flashed, warning about the upcoming stoppage. Nearly thirty minutes ago.

Dropping his arm, he observed the bleak, dark-red area. His isolation chamber he relished in a sense. Second nature. But there was a commodity brewing within. A path beckoning him to stray away from his natural setting into an unaccustomed world. 

Gradually, he stood up before dropping off the edge and landing with a solid thunk.

He pressed through the wide corridor that led into his ‘office,’ past the contained anomalies, who thankfully are under a backup program, so they couldn't escape with ease. Stepping into the elevator, he tapped the down arrow, leaning back against the cool glass. 

Was he truly going to do this?

He trudged out until he reached the usual bustling facility, now still with a couple of spider stragglers reserved in their own bubble or quickly converging with one another before moving on with their business.

Some blissfully greeted him as Miguel nodded in acknowledgment when he passed by. Some curious ones eyeballed him, astonished to view him casually teetering around, but chalked it up due to the seemingly night off all the spiders “dolefully” received (many honestly are grateful; relieved for it).

However, numerous heads did rotate dumbfounded when Miguel… treaded out of the establishment with no warning or announcement. 

Clearly, this was one for the books.

Miguel allowed the chill breeze to graze across his face and curly locks as he compelled himself towards a direction. 

Where exactly was his destination?

Usually he appoints on having everything to the point, narrow, clear, and straight cut. But now? He's aimlessly roaming Nueva York's evidently pristine streets, allowing his legs to carry him to an unprecedented location.

He was out of bounds with the routine. Highly so. There undoubtedly had to be a reason for this particular circumstance for him willingly abandoning his homebound post.

• • •

For the puzzled ones, there's a meaning behind a reason. An answer to a question. A cause pursuing the effect, and Miguel surely didn't expect any of it. 

Even the most natural of ones can slip into the most foreign of fates.

[snakeunderyourboot]

Therapy for Miraculous Team fic idea

cool idea for miraculous fic set during season 2-3 (get away all this shit from seasons 4-5)

Okay, so one day Mayor of Paris announced that as thanks to the Miraculous team for all they did for Paris, they can get free mental health care. Like a free therapist. Talk about perks being superheroes

Anyway, Ladybug of course says that its dangerous and they can't really talk to said therapist because people can figure out their identities. Chat Noir agrees, but in the end they both start using said therapist.

It starts with something more trivial like high school stress or tips for how to deal with anxiety, small things like that. But as time goes and therapist being an actually nice person who never tries to guess who they are under the mask and just wants to help them, both Ladybug and Chat Noir loosen up a little. They now talk about other stuff, more personal to them (still hiding their identities)

Even temporal heroes sometimes use therapist services. Rena Rouge asks how can she be passionate about her hobbies without it hurtung her friends, Carapace asks tips how to help his friend who is in a difficult family situation, Queen Bee (she is the last to visit therapist but even she caves) asks how can she change herself so that she stops losing people. It's all very nice and well, and the team grows so much closer than they were before

Only the thing is, the therapist is actually a double agent working for Hawkmoth.

Maybe they had some personal vendetta against the Miraculous team, maybe they just didn't trust them, maybe some other reason - just the idea that said therapist was not all that great.

Until they started listening to the heroes and suddenly hit with the realization that they are just kids. Ladybug can restore Paris in a matter of seconds, but she is extremely anxious about school and has a poor life-work balance. Chat Noir can destroy everything just by touching it, but he also spends so long pretending to be a perfect version of himself that he has no idea who he truly is. Rena Rouge can make a perfect illusion with a few notes, but she also feels like she constantly misses everything and she hurts more people than actually helps them. Carapace can shield a bullet, but also worries about his friends and not being enough for them. Queen Bee is able to freeze a person, but also is so deep in her own familly problems that she is also comepltly lost what she is as a person.

Suddenly therapist realizes that people who were protecting Paris for so many years - are just kids. Kids who should worry about their grades and school drama and not fight a magical terrorist every day.

Maybe then therapist starts selling false info to the Hawkmoth. Maybe they now trying to figure out the Hawkmoth identity. Maybe then Therapist becomes probably the only stable adult figure in superheroes lifes they can go for. Maybe they start learning more stuff about miraculouses. And maybe they suddenly met with a choice to step away and probably let those kids make so many mistakes or step in and help them in every possible way.

Just the idea of some random parisian therapist looking at miraculous team and deciding that that is enough and help them.

Edit: of course we can take more hilarious approach because imagine you start listening to all the stuff those kids are up to. Someone was in a doomed alternative version of their world, someone tried to cataclysmed themselves and all that while dealing with school. I pity that therapist

[familyagrestefanblog]

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!!!!

Adrien's amoks!!! Oh my gosh, she didnt notice the wedding rings!

Marinette almost killed Adrien! The entire time their conversation went down Marinette didnt realize that she was holding Adrien at gun point! That changes the entire nature of the situation! Dont tell me that it doesn't, it absolutely does!

Oh gosh this was so much worse that I thought! I need to further look into this. I was already of the opinion that believing that Gabriel gave Marinette his BLESSING after she basically told him in nice words that she will for the greater good let Adrien, as a then orphan, pay for all of his family's sins and mistakes on a disastrous globally scale is absolute insanity or blatant denial, but THIS???

look closer:

You can see Adrien's rings, oh my god...

Gabriel is talking about the day Adrien was born and how happy he made Emilie and him - that he was there little miracle - and Marinette is here not realizing that Gabriel knows exactly that she's ONE word away from making Adrien met his death in a mere second! Even Gabriel and Nathalie still had longer life-spans than the few moments Adrien was at the risk of having left if Gabriel made a wrong move or said the wrong thing!

No wonder Gabriel behaved as well as he did! And no wonder that all of this so quickly became entirely about Adrien while Gabriel kept catching glances at her hand resting on his:

"And Adrien will be miserable"

How have we gotten so far by now that I'm agreeing with Gabriel's faces here?? Adrien would be DEAD! She's even saying that her powers cant remedy any of this, how is this real?

Bug Noire is currently the threat towards Adrien's entire existence. The episode almost had Marinette kill Adrien/ Chat Noir with his own Miraculous! With PLAGG! Gabriel had to end up playing along to de-escalate the threat that SHE posed to Adrien!

I'm stressed right now!

Girl, take that hand away!

Thank you...

Oh gosh, this was so much worse than I though. Marinette is absolutely screwed and she doesn't even know why! Don't think for a second that this didn't had consequences via Gabriel's wish! Gabriel's love for his son very much exists and always has and it's by far the worst thing in Adrien's entire life!

I don't care if you truly think the scale of the wish is nothing but on the smallest dimension of 1:1 just because that's the damn berry explanation Gimmi gave for an easy understanding while obviously being characterized to be annoyed with humanity for how they treat them and how pathetically trivial the things are for Gimmi the humans wished for in the past, and the ending didnt immediately present you with the grand answer of how every chain reaction worked.

It's a reality changing wish after 5 seasons of built-up from the one damn person the show explained to you in ever way possible that it would be an world ending catastrophe if he got his wish!

If there is one bastard who didn't use Gimmi for something small and noble its the fucking MAIN VILLAIN before he dies and the hero almost killed their child who is the hero's love interest!

Come ON people!

[raina-at]

Family

John slowly opens his eyes. The room is quiet. The lights are dim, and the television over his bed is showing cartoons on mute. The blanket is uncomfortable and it smells of antiseptics and human misery.

He hates hospitals. Well, on this side of the bed at least. 

There’s something heavy and warm lying on one half of his body. He looks down and sees Rosie, fast asleep, her head on John’s shoulder. Apparently, she took a bit of a break from colouring on his leg cast and fell asleep.

It’s impossible to tell what time it is, but he guesses it must be rather late.

The door opens and a nurse comes in. She smiles when she sees him awake. He nods at Rosie and motions her to be quiet and she nods.

“Everything all right?” the nurse asks quietly. 

John nods. “So far so good.”

“With a bit of luck, you'll be out of here by the end of the week,” she says, adjusting his pillow. “Your husband should be back in a second, he just stepped out to take a phone call.” She smiles at Rosie’s sleeping form. “Couldn’t get either of them to leave. You have a lovely family.”

“Thank you,” John says, returning her smile, not bothering to correct her about the assumption she made about Sherlock. It’s easier this way, no arguments about visiting hours. Also, he’s used to it. So many people think they’re lovers, and he’s long since stopped even trying to explain that they’re not, because honestly, it doesn’t make any difference. 

“Looks like the little one might be out for the night. I’ll bring in a cot for her later, we can settle you both more comfortably.”

“Thank you,” John repeats.

The door opens again, and Sherlock walks in. 

“Hey,” John greets him with a weak smile. 

Sherlock looks tired, but he returns John’s smile. “Hey yourself.”

The nurse excuses herself, muttering about seeing to the cot.

Sherlock sits down next to John’s bed and scrutinises him with narrowed eyes and what John calls his ‘deduction face’. “You still feel like shit, don’t you?”

“I was hit by a car not 48 hours ago, what do you think?” John asks, but he keeps his tone gentle because Sherlock looks exhausted and worried. “It’s not that bad, though. Could have been worse.”

“Three broken ribs, a broken leg and a light concussion, that’s not trivial, John.”

John holds out his hand and Sherlock takes it, clasps John’s fingers between both of his hands, moving closer to the bed. 

“I’m sorry I scared you,” John says, gently, quietly, careful not to wake Rosie. 

“Hardly your fault,” Sherlock mutters, looking down at their joined hands with a murderous expression. “That stupid driver. He’s lucky you weren’t hurt any worse, or I would have murdered him with my bare hands. Or maybe I would have just broken all his bones but let him live a life of misery and-”

“Calm down, love, you’re going to wake the Gremlin,” John soothes, squeezing Sherlock’s hand tightly. 

Sherlock grumbles something inaudible, but he subsides with the threats. 

Silence falls, and John watches Sherlock watch him. There’s obviously something on Sherlock’s mind, but John knows from experience that it’s better to let Sherlock work things out in his own time. 

“They didn’t let me see you,” Sherlock finally says, quietly. His eyes drop to John’s hand still entwined with his. “I had to tell them we’re married, otherwise they would’ve made me leave.”

“But you’re next of kin on all of my records,” John answers, frowning in confusion.

“There was a problem with the Internet, they couldn’t access your records.”

“I’m sorry, that must have been stressful,” John says, squeezing Sherlock’s hand. “I remember when they wouldn’t let me see you after you were shot.” He shudders a bit at the memory. “It was horrible. I didn’t know whether you were dead or alive for hours. I had to wait for Mycroft before they’d tell me anything.”

Sherlock looks down at their joined hands again, obviously lost in thought. “I was so scared,” he mutters, almost inaudibly. 

“You held it together like a hero for Rosie, though,” John says with a fond smile, remembering Sherlock and Rosie just before he was wheeled into surgery, Rosie holding on to Sherlock’s hand in a death grip, Sherlock white as a sheet but outwardly composed, explaining calmly to Rosie that John would be just fine.

“I was sick in the bathroom when Mrs Hudson came to take her home,” Sherlock mutters, still addressing their entwined hands. 

John smiles fondly. “I won’t tell her if you don’t.”

“John-” Sherlock looks up from their joined hands. “This is going to sound incredibly stupid-”

“We should get married,” John says, interrupting Sherlock.

Sherlock looks gobsmacked, and John congratulates himself silently for managing to surprise Sherlock Holmes. 

Sherlock blinks a few times in the way he has when his mind palace crashes, so John decides to take over the talking out loud part of the conversation. “I’ve thought about it before, but it never seemed urgent. But you know what I thought yesterday, when I saw you standing there? If anything happens to me, they’ll send Rosie to live with my sister, and we can’t let that happen.”

“But-” Sherlock blinks again. “But we’re not-”

“Sleeping together?”

Sherlock nods and actually blushes a bit. “I don’t-”

“You don’t want that, and I understand. I don’t, either. I know you don’t like sex, and I’m not interested in a sexual relationship with you,” John says gently. “But you’re everything else to me. You’re my friend, my confidante, my rock, my partner, my co-parent. My family. We live together, we work together, we’re raising a child together. You know how often I get asked if I have a partner? I never hesitate to say yes because that’s what you are.”

“You said romantic entanglements would complete me,” Sherlock says, his voice hoarse with emotions, his eyes wide and uncertain.

“That was six years ago, and I’ve learned a lot since then. You taught me a lot. Love is complicated, I get that now. And I love you. Not conventionally, but since when do we do anything the conventional way?”

Sherlock smiles slightly, but says nothing, so John continues,  “I was always looking for someone who’d stick with me, someone to spend my life with. Well, you’re it for me, Sherlock, and if that’s a problem for you, you’d better tell me right now, because otherwise, you’re stuck with me for good.”

“Not a problem,” Sherlock says, and there’s an expression on his face John has never seen before. Soft and gentle and hopeful. “You’re it for me as well.” He pauses. “And - I love you too. In case that was in any way unclear.”

John smiles, overcome with relief. “So that’s a yes, then? To the whole marriage, adopt the Gremlin, stay with me forever thing?”

“Yes,” Sherlock says, brushing a soft kiss over their joined hands. “That’s a yes.”

I think I never wrote Ace Sherlock/heterosexual John before, but there's a first time for everything. Fluff of the tooth-rotting variety here, sorry for the sappiness two days in a row.

Thanks for keeping us going with the challenges, @calaisreno!

Tagging a few people again: @keirgreeneyes @helloliriels @jrow @meetinginsamarra @catlock-holmes @khorazir @lisbeth-kk @thetimemoves @topsyturvy-turtely @fluffbyday-smutbynight @7-percent @the-reading-lemon and anyone else who wants to play!

[a-boca-do-inferno]

trying wasnʼt enough (jack ryan x reader)

summary: Absence is a funny thing. It implies history and every story has to come to an end. Inevitably.

warnings: angst, fluff-ish, swearing

words: 1.6k

notes: based on the bell by first aid kit. lol bye

I tried hard to be brave

I tried hard not to be afraid

But trying wasnʼt enough

(y/n) sits on the edge of the bed as Jack walks across the room, carrying his packed bags. He stands in front of her, appearing tired and annoyed, “why do you always have to make me feel like the villain?”

“Oh, that’s right, how dare I”, she scoffs, shaking her head in disbelief and anger. “Because you’re the hero, aren’t you? How dare I question you, how dare I criticise Mr. Perfect?”

He sighs deeply, expanding his nostrils and looking away. This is going nowhere, they both know it. Dropping his luggage on the floor, Jack leans down so his face is level with hers. He speaks slowly, carefully, softly; like someone explaining something to a child. It only fuels her ire further. “You’re not being fair. What I do in the agency is important.”

“When are you gonna understand that I have the right to feel angry at this… this situation?”, her voice is but a whisper, breaking in her throat as the words come out. His brows furrow in something reminiscent of remorse, but it’s ghostly, nearly invisible. “Maybe I’m not being fair because this isn’t a fair situation.”

“And what’s fair to you?” Jack comes closer and stares into her eyes, his demeanour full of displeasure albeit he’s clearly containing himself. “Just because you don’t see me, doesn’t mean nothing’s going on. I’m doing this for us!”

“You being here with me, that’s fucking fair!” She shouts with a frown and Jack remains silent, his gaze unreadable. He doesn’t look away, doesn’t even flinch this time; his orbs hard and sharp as she adds, “that’s what I deserve.” 

When being brave simply isn’t enough, what more is there to be? Resentful. (y/n) felt like anything she did inevitably led to her drowning in her own ocean of resentment towards Jack. His blue shirt now hung from the chair, moving with the soft wind coming from the half open window. He had left in a rush, something to do with the mission of the moment. She grew used to it; being second to his duties as an agent. If she called him a spy, he’d get angry and shut down for a whole week. Things only slightly went back to normal after he took her out for dinner. His career had always been an issue between them, because when he willingly leaves such an important part of who he is a secret—no matter how many euphemisms John’d find for that word—to his partner from the beginning, it means he set his priorities straight even before she occupied any position in his circle. First work, then her. And as it was from the very start, so was the end.

How could he be so distant, she wondered, yet so overbearing at the same time? Washing the dishes in silence, she reflected on the occasions he’d left her feeling weak and defenceless in his presence, surely thinking he was doing quite the opposite. She understood his protective nature to an extent, sure; being a Marine and now a field agent came with its own set of triggers and traumas. He lost a lot of people he cared about, and it seemed as though caring about her was like reliving—or rather, anticipating—every pain he ever felt when losing someone. But even though she held such empathy for his struggles, his behaviour left her at a crossroads. Jack was too busy with his work to go to therapy and work on himself, after all. She never felt quite any opening from his part for her to even dare suggest it, anyway. It seemed so trivial in the face of the things he had to endure for the “greater good”, as he had called it time and time again. The girl left out another heavy sigh. 

She was dating fucking Captain America.

(y/n) places a washed cup on the sink and stares at it, her mind spiralling into the last two years of her life with Jack. Her eyes fill with tears instantly and she takes a deep breath, trying to pull herself together. When people leave your life, it shouldn’t be such a big deal. They have always come and gone, haven’t they? But the word “missing” does describe the stupid feeling very well. It’s not the longing for them, it’s the quiet laugh to that stupid joke she’d tell everyday that isn’t there now. What was once just isn’t anymore and when people leave, that’s exactly what happens; they’re somewhere else, not with you. And so there’s this insistent empty place which was filled not so long ago. The clock on the wall keeps ticking and the candles on the table melt all the same. Nothing happened, yet everything’s gone.

“Don’t do that”, Jack murmurs in the back of her memories. His words keep echoing like the sound of a ghost. He torments her every time she lets him. And she lets him more often than not. His glance is still slightly angry, but now also buried in desperation. He didn’t want to leave. It was clear and she couldn’t see it through her tears. “Please, don’t do that.”

“You’re never here anyway”, that was the last thing she ever told him. And just like that, he was gone the next day. “It won’t change anything”, was the quiet addition, after he closed the door behind him. Such a fucking lie. How could nothing change, really, when he was the reason for everything?

Walking towards the bedroom, she can’t help but laugh humorlessly at the things neatly organised. He cleaned it all prior to leaving this morning and a sad chuckle escapes her lips again. Back when they were in Moscow, she noticed right away he would be the type to drive her crazy over some dirty laundry on the floor. And she was right. They often had little arguments about domestic stuff, yet somehow, those were the best moments she could’ve spent with him. Going back and forth all day, teasing, bickering like two children was strangely soothing to her heart. Perhaps it meant that he was fallible, just like her; he could be picky and stubborn and annoying too, as opposed to his sober and unmoving nature, always in control. And it was like a breath of fresh air, to witness John let himself feel things even if for a period of time. 

“Come here”, Jack coos as he pulls her closer, burying his face in her hair and sniffing deeply. She’s still a bit annoyed about their debate earlier, but he’s feeling cuddly today, rocking her body back and forth with his. There’s a playful beam on his features as he mutters, “stop being so stubborn, that’s my brand.”

“You have a lot of them”, she sticks her tongue out and he laughs soundly, tickling her side. (y/n) gasps and tries to escape his grip to no avail, big long arms holding her firmly in place. She eventually gives up and his lips meet hers in a gentle, delicate kiss. Her heart flutters in her chest as he squeezes her body, smothering her as he ever did. A small smile shows on her face and he follows her as they exchange a knowing gaze. “I love you, Dr. Ryan.”

He pecks her gently, caressing her chin, “I love you too, silly.”

Could it be that those shared moments with Jack always felt so utterly overwhelming because it was a rare thing to occur? Her stomach turned at the faint memory as if someone had been playing with her guts and she took a step back, leaving the bedroom and slamming the door. Every single thing in this house now reached her senses like poison and she just wanted to scream. 

Running towards the backyard, her eyes fell on the little bedside table Jack had been working on. He made a habit out of doing woodwork and it wasn’t finished yet. She sat on the floor and studied the piece of furniture thoroughly, even though her knowledge of carpentry was about the same as her knowledge in maintaining a long distance relationship: fucking nothing. But just as she’s going to let herself drown in tears one more time that day, (y/n) hears steps coming from behind and turns her face to look at Jack standing tall, leaning on the doorway with his arms crossed.

He’s frowning, but seems more sad than mad at this point. “Are you gonna finish that for me?”

She snorts despite herself, eyeing the wood parts still waiting to be put together. “I’m afraid you’re gonna have to call Greer for that. I’m no carpenter.”

That gets a small laugh from him and he sighs. “I’m sorry, (y/n)”, Jack blurts out after a few seconds of silence. She stares at the grass under her feet as he approaches, sitting beside her with his elbows leaning on his knees. She can’t tell if he’s looking at her, but his hot breath hits her cheek as he continues, “if anything, I’d like you to know that I tried.”

His words sting. They sound soft and broken at the same time, and when she glances back at him, his gaze is so gentle. Ryan searches her face in deep thought, studying every inch of it as he’s used to and (y/n) simply nods, her eyes misty with unshed tears. “I know.”

From the rust that lies deep in its throat

I hear solemn tones

The danger, the absent floors

In the silence of night, he lets me know

That I’m not coming home

[sirnerdbird]

A short essay regarding Splatoon 2's base story mode

Splatoon as a series has had 4 story modes so far and I think the one that catches the most flak from the community in general is Splatoon 2's base story. This is very reasonable, the mode is a copy-paste of Splatoon 1's formula with trivial additions, is unhelpfully hindered design-wise by its need to remain playable by 9 completely different weapon types and its lack of engaging content for anyone other than the day 1 beginner makes it genuinely painful to play through for a substantial portion of the playerbase.

But the actual reason I dislike S2's main story so much is the extent to which it was massively undeveloped from a narrative standpoint and didn't really deliver on any of the plot threads set up in the Squid Sister Stories.

I see a lot of people taking those plot threads that were established there and extrapolating to say what "actually" happened in Splatoon 2's story with regards to Callie and Marie. This is frustrating, because instead of lamenting the way the story was handled some people are now putting out theories saying "actually you interpreted this incorrectly, you can put together all these pieces to show that Callie did actually hate Marie and joined Octavio" and that's just....

no.

The problem with the way S2's story was handled is that every motivation it tries to present as a possible reason why Callie left (the driving mystery joining Splatoon 1 to Splatoon 2) is contradicted by something else.

Callie was abducted entirely unwillingly while visiting octavio? The "I'll hear you out" interaction between Callie and Octavio in the S2 character chart.

Callie hated Marie/was burnt out form work and joined Octavio willingly for whatever reason? Blatantly countered by info we have in the Squid Sister Stories (we know for a fact that Callie never hated Marie at any point and the idea that she decided to work for Octavio because of stress is nonsensical). This lack of direction is not helped by the fact that Callie and Marie patently do not go through a character arc duringS2's story

They: start off as close friends and rivals during Splatoon 1 -> grow apart due to work stuff after the events of the final fest (but still have no ill feelings towards one another) -> Callie gets kidnapped -> S2's story happens and Callie comes back -> Callie and Marie are still friends. It's not even established if they spend more time with one another after S2's story mode than before it.

We know from Splatoon 3 dialogue that they still work independently in the same manner that they did between Splatoon 1 and 2 that led to them growing apart, but are just... fine now.

I think there was the clear intent for Callie and Marie to have a full-blown character arc where one airs their grievances to the other about their friendship (maybe about feeling abandoned or that they're not even friends anymore), leading towards a new understanding between the two, but that's not what ends up happening at all.

Splatoon 2's base story is a mess of tantalising glimpses into potential story threads, but delivers on precisely none of them. The Callie and Marie story across Splatoon 1, 2 and (to some degree with their dialogue) 3 gives the illusion of a journey; of depth, direction and a satisfying conclusion, but any attempt to look at it in detail leads to the whole thing breaking apart.

Disconnected from Callie and Marie, I know that some people are disappointed with the direction that Splatoon 3's story ended up taking right at the end. That's fine, (actually it's probably the correct response) but appreciate that Splatoon is definitely on an upwards trajectory when it comes to narrative consistency and the coherence of the story. RotM doesn't even come close to having the amount of infuriatingly underdeveloped plot threads that Splatoon 2's hero mode does.

It's not all doom and gloom yet, we're not entering a "lore dark age". I'm genuinely confident that Splatoon 3's DLC (whenever it appears) will continue expanding on Splatoon world and narrative on the same level as Octo Expansion and I think the community as a whole should be too.

[seekslight]

✧.*      𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩  𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

name  :  luxanna  crownguard.

nickname  :  lux  ;  little  light  (  by  @apostisms  )  ;  princess  (  by  @steel-and-fire  )  ;  flashlight,  blonde,  blondie,  starlight,  nightlight,  baby  girl,  glow - stick  (  by  @shimmershots  and  yes,  i  went  through  all  of  cudi's  posts  to  find  every  single  one  ).

gender  :  female  with  she / her  pronouns.

romantic  orientation  :  biromantic,  bisexual.

preferred  pet  names  :  i  don't  think  lux  is  called  pet  names  often  (  if  ever  ),  although  all  her  nicknames  are  technically  pet  names  too  &&.  she  adores  them  all.

relationship  status  :  plot  dependent,  by  default  taken  &&.  in  a  relationship  with  @apostisms.

opinion  on  true  love  :  every  love  is  true  if  the  feelings  are  genuine,  even  the  past  ones  that  faded  or  ended  suddenly.  if  what  lux  felt  was  love,  it  was  true.

opinion  on  love  at  first  sight  :  no,  just  no.  lux  firmly  believes  one  has  to  get  to  know  the  other  person  to  actually  consider  calling  the  feeling  love.  she's  usually  giving  herself  a  lot  of  time  to  let  her  feelings  develop,  although  there  are  instances  in  which  she  finds  herself  fascinated  by  someone  —  but  even  if  they  end  up  as  couple,  she  wouldn't  call  it  love  at  first  sight.

how  ‘romantic’  are  they?  :  very!  from  writing  letters  to  giving  flowers,  cooking  and  coffee  dates,  everything's  on  the  table.  really.  being  on  the  receiving  end  though?  the  easiest  way  to  make  her  feel  special.

ideal  physical  traits  :  none.  if  the  feelings  happen,  it's  regardless  of  one's  appearance  —  let's  take  sylas  as  the  perfect  example  :  a  smelly  stinky  rat  man  in  dirty  clothes  who  still  made  her  heart  beat  faster.

ideal  personality  traits  :  selflessness,  being  down  to  earth,  truthfulness,  loyalness,  trustworthiness,  being  kind.

unattractive  physical  traits  :  lack  of  hygiene.

unattractive  personality  traits  :  selfishness,  untruthfulness,  lying.

ideal  date  :  book  date  over  tea  or  coffee,  picnic  in  a  pretty  garden  full  of  flowers,  baking  together,  evening  walk  by  the  lake.  in  general,  little  things  one  can  organize  without  spending  money.

do  they  have  a  type?  :  stinky  rat  men.  twinks.  crazy  geniuses.  knights,  soldiers,  warriors,  heroes.

average  relationship  length  :  long.  if  she's  into  someone  and  decides  to  pursue  the  relationship,  she  usually  works  really  hard  for  the  spark  to  never  fade.

preferred  non - sexual  intimacy  :  forehead  kisses  (  receiving  ),  hugs  from  behind  (  receiving  ),  holding  hands,  deep  conversations  &&.  trauma  sharing.

opinion  of  public  affection  :  lux  is  pretty  okay  with  it!  she  enjoys  holding  hands  or  sharing  a  kiss  or  two  (  though  would  opt  for  cheeks  or  quick  pecks  ),  likes  hugs  and  doesn't  mind  being  held  by  the  waist.

past  relationships?  :  verse  dependent,  but  the  most  notable  ones  are  :  a  crush  on  jarro  lightfeather  that  wasn't  pursued  (  and  built  upon  a  lie,  written  with  @compasswithin  )  &&.  then  the  disaster  with  sylas  —  unlabeled  long  time  connection  with  romantic  undertones  that  ultimately  lead  to  a  heartbreaking  betrayal  as  lux  ended  up  being  used  (  which  also  exposed  being  manipulated  through  the  years  ).  it  left  luxanna  reluctant  to  involving  herself  in  any  romance,  and  due  to  the  amount  of  her  duties  as  terbisia's  governor,  there's  very  little  time  to  seek  out  something  as  trivial  as  romantic  partner.

tagged  by  :  @witches-and-weirdos  (  thank  you  so  much!!  ). tagging  :  @compasswithin  (  &&.  taliyah!!  ),  @apostisms,  @shimmershots,  @boulderpunched,  @nameaprice,  @lockedfighter,  @cryroh  ( yasuo  &&.  nilah  ),  @goldenfists,  @stahri-light  &&.  @steel-and-fire.

[judasofsuburbia]

yeah okay we're all mad about the stupid time jump at the end of s4 and we think everyone except dustin being fine ??? is such weak writing right okay. we're dealing with teenagers here. heavily traumatized teenagers. and for whatever reason, their chosen angle was "they're going to help the town because they're heroes" okay fine whatever. but they also somehow? care about pursuing their love interests after all of that bullshit too?? starting with robin and vickie, regardless of whatever lesbian card they wanted to play giving her a love interest, do we really think robin would want to let someone in like that so soon after watching people she loves nearly die? that getting a girlfriend would be the first thing on her mind??? i'm sure robin is relieved to see vickie but it shouldn't have translated to "okay here's my chance!!". and steve being comforted by robin about nancy??? nancy running into jonathan's arms is to be expected and steve KNOWS that. i don't think he STILL expects an answer from nancy for his near-death love confession, especially in front of literally everyone they know. like i just think the most important thing to these characters would be that these people are Alive and Safe and despite being so young, would put aside their romantic feelings for JUST A FUCKING SECOND to grieve what happened. combining the pining with the weak "lets repair the town" plotline is just bad and muddy.

we know the duffers use shallow romance plots as a crutch fucking Always but it is just so sad to watch characters care about trivial crushes or exes after everything that's happened to them.

[obitv]

@ghostknifeweek day 2: heart

read it on ao3 here

It's only a few days after the Prime Defenders are officially formed that Vyncent notices the... tattoo? that Dakota has on his bicep. From what he can tell so far, tattoos are pretty common in this world, but it's William who draws his attention to it. Indirectly, of course, but he keeps glancing at it when he thinks nobody is noticing and getting this... complicated look on his face. Human faces are harder to read, especially since he don't know either of these two yet. So, he asks.

"Hey, Dakota? What's with that tattoo on your arm?"

Dakota looks over at Vyncent, surprised, and he notices that William's head also snaps over to him at the same time. It makes him slightly jumpy, having both of them staring so blatantly, but clearly it means something. It's a small heart, fully black, on the outside of his upper arm, only visible because Dakota had taken his usual flannel off and had a vest on underneath.

Dakota doesn't let up on the staring, and Vyncent starts to wonder if he'd accidentally violated ANOTHER unspoken taboo because neither of them are saying anything. Dakota shakes it off eventually, but what he says doesn't make much sense to Vyncent.

"It's my soul mark? Y'know, the way to know you met your soulmate?! Dude, I'm starting to think you really are from another world. You don't- Don't you have one?" He sounds distressed at the end, like not having a 'soul mark' is some horrible fate.

Soulmates. Seriously? That's- fairy tale bullshit, as far as Vyncent's concerned. Stories of powerful magic meant to entertain children, not actual things. Then again, as far as William and Dakota are concerned, dragons are made up to entertain kids. Supposedly. Vyncent's pretty sure every world has dragons. But- off topic.

"I- No? Dakota, I told you- No, how do they even work? We definitely don't have those back on- back home," Vyncent answers, brushing off how Dakota still doesn't believe he's not from here, despite being a different species.

"Well, wayyyy back, like, FOREVER ago, the first time heroes existed, everyone had a soulmark! And then the heroes disappeared and they did too, but then the PRIME FORCE did their cool shit and everyone has one again! They're black until you meet your soulmate, then it gets colours!"

Vyncent narrows his eyes at Dakota. He... seems genuine? This doesn't seem like something Dakota would joke about. Just to be sure though, Vyncent turns to look at William-

Who isn't there. Shouldn't one of them have heard the door open if William had left? Maybe Dakota had noticed and not said anything?

Whatever. That's just proof he's letting himself get distracted by trivial things. If he's so out of it he can't even hear footsteps and a door... Dakota, thankfully, is already back to his own exercise. More training is clearly what he needs.

-

Eventually, a pattern forms. Without fail, every single time soulmates get brought up, William finds a way to leave without answering any questions about it. Going invisible, falling through the floor... On more memorable occasions, even going intangible to walk straight through a door, or pretending to answer a call and walking off.

It's weird, is what it is. Vyncent doesn't like talking with Tide, but he'd had to once they'd started going to school and Vyncent found out Dakota really wasn't lying. Tide told him what he wanted to know about soulmarks at least, but still! William's way more interesting when he talks about things, and is less likely to somehow manage to go off on a lecture. But even when it got brought up in school William was never there...

In a quiet moment after meeting Ashe, Vyncent decides to ask her if she'd noticed William's behaviour too. He knows she has one, even though he's never seen it, so he reasons that she might understand. And unlike Dakota, she won't immediately run off to find William and try ask him herself.

"I mean... maybe he's just private? Could just be a taboo where he's from, I've heard of that. Like, some people think its bad luck or whatever? My- uh. My mom was like that, before she met Mark." She leans back against the couch and seems to consider it more, and a complicated look crosses her face. Fucking humans and their lack of ears and tails...

He stares at her in hopes she'll.. say something that makes sense instead of making minute facial expressions. When she does speak again, it's more halting than before, like she doesn't want to say it. "Or... maybe he doesn't have a soulmark?"

"Is that possible?" Vyncent frowns. As far as he'd been told, the only reason he doesn't have a soulmate is because he wasn't born on Prime. Nobody has ever said it was possible for people to just... be born here without one.

Ashe winces a little and shrugs. "I've seen it mentioned online, but it's... really rare. Absurdly." She reaches up to tug on her hair a little, sighing. "It's probably just personal. But- keep it in mind, yeah? I'll try to get Dakota to stop talking about it so much."

And then the world ends.

The sky rains blood, Mark drags them out to some cabin in the middle of nowhere, Dakota and Vyncent wrestle in the mud, William makes a rocket, you know the story.

In the non-stop chaos that follows, nobody really has time to bring up soulmates. Ashe follows through and elbows Dakota in the side when he tries to bring it up at the cabin, and again at Richie's when they're being fitted for their suits. Richie gives confused looks to both Vyncent and William, but thankfully Dakota immediately bounds up when they're all finished in the weird machine and starts whispering his ideas to the designer before things could get more awkward.

Small blessings.

-

Then William dies. Ashe can't do anything and Vyncent is suddenly deeply, deeply regretful that he never bothered to learn from a cleric.

To say things work out would be a gross simplification. They lug William's body around, first without guidance and then with it once Ashe realises she can talk to his ghost. Vyncent begins to wonder if maybe he should try asking what the Prime equivalent of a cleric is, just in case, but then they're chasing after Wavelength and he's preoccupied with the mental battle of trying not to let Alphonse kill the asshole and fuck everything up more.

But William ends up alright again, at least. Alphonse... isn't happy about the situation, so Vyncent resolves to keep some distance until he calms down. Just- to be safe. If he were to dwell on it,he'd know that he really, really doesn't want to see William that hurt, ever again.

Maybe it's because of all the stress and chaos that Vyncent doesn't notice anything for... however long it takes. But the day they get their hero suits, he takes a moment in the changing room to check on his bruises from Alphonse's fight.

He doesn't just find bruises. It's hard to see, resting on a dip in his spine right between his shoulder blades, but as he contorts in the mirror he sees it - a small black heart. One that by all rights he shouldn't have.

Vyncent Sol does not want to think about soulmates. So he doesn't. He stares at the mark, forces his breathing to steady, and pulls the rest of his outfit back on. Breathes some more - even if none of the others can read elf body language, he's better safe than sorry.

He walks back out, strikes a few poses in his new gear, and forces the topic from his mind.

-

William Wisp does not have a soulmate.

For years, he had hoped that it was a fluke, some anomaly in the magic, and as soon as he met his soulmate his soulmark would finally appear and people would stop glancing at him whenever the topic was brought up.

Then he died. Nobody really knows how soulmate magic works, but people who died before the marks came back didn't have any marks on their corpses. So he... just wouldn't ever have a soulmate.

He'd hoped to all fucking hell that he could avoid the topic with his new group. Luckily, the wisps gave him the perfect powers for avoiding awkward conversations! It's just his luck to get teamed with a guy who doesn't know anything about soulmates and a guy who's obsessed with them, but there's always the classic "fall through the floor" trick.

Which he does. A lot. Vyncent is fucking relentless after Dakota talks to him, and William has to pull out every strategy and even invent some new ones to get away from it.

Vyncent... intrigues him. Once he lets up on the soulmate questions, they actually start to get pretty close, and William lets himself fantasize.

They're nice fantasies. Ones where William tells Vyncent he can't have a soulmate because he's dead, and Vyncent says it doesn't matter and picks him up (which Vyncent can do, and finding that out was when William became incredibly grateful his blush isn't as strong anymore) and kisses him and fireworks go off and they hold hands and skip away into the sunset. Or something.

William is infinitely glad he doesn't dream anymore, too.

The daydreaming picks up when William finds out that since Vyncent isn't from Prime, he also doesn't have a soulmate! Dakota's upset enough for the two of them, right? Maybe- Maybe one day, when William builds up the courage, they can be, like... chosen soulmates.

When those thoughts start to come up, William works harder to push them out. He has far more important shit to think about these days than hanging on to his childhood dream of finding a soulmate. He doesn't have one.

-

A couple weeks after Dakota leaves, Vyncent and Will settle into something like a routine. They train, they eat, they watch movies, they do a little vigilante work, they ignore WATCH's calls... almost all normal teenager things.

They both realise pretty fast William doesn't actually have good clothes for exercising in, but after raiding Dakota's closet they find he has shirts in... way more sizes than he'd ever need? Which is weird, but he's not fucking here to ask about it, is he? So William takes some of the tank tops.

Which is a wonderful time for him to forget that Vyncent, being the adorably oblivious guy he is (as much as William resents it - both the adorable and oblivious parts), is the kind of guy who occasionally forgets to knock when he opens door. To be fair, normally William hears him walking and makes sure he's presentable, but he's tired and angry and might be muttering to himself so much that he doesn't have time to pull the top on when Vyncent opens the door.

Small mercy: he has his back to the door. Big problem: Vyncent does not immediately turn and walk back out, but instead pauses and asks, "When did you get that tattoo?"

This is a problem, because William does not have any tattoos on his back. He whips around to look at Vyncent, trying to see if he's fucking around, but- He looks shaken. Like William's supposed tattoo is something that's freaking both of them out.

"Wh-what tattoo?" He asks, near frantic. His heart never quite races anymore but he still feels himself flush, feels if speed up just a little. He can't let himself get his hopes up jumping to conclusions, but he can't help but mentally cross his fingers while he waits for Vyncent to answer.

"It's... a heart. Right," he gestures to his chest, below his collarbones, "here. On your back. Not- not a black one. It's... indigo, I think? Is it- not a tattoo?" His voice is almost as unsteady as William feels, which doesn't make any sense, right? Right? Because why would Vyncent care if William has a soulmark or not, why would Vyncent immediately be able to place it on himself?

His mind is racing in place of his heart beat. He looks Vyncent in the eyes, just for a moment, and then runs through him to reach the bathroom and its much bigger mirror as fast as he can. He can faintly hear Vyncent running through the halls, but it takes longer when you have to go around the walls and not through them.

Small perks of not being able to control his powers well when his emotions spike.

He can't help but freeze up once he's standing there. Gripping the sink, staring into his own eyes... the dread, the excitement, the curiosity, it's all building up inside him and it's near paralysing. But he's William Wisp, and he can't resist the pull of a new mystery.

He turns around. It's hard to see, because he really isn't that flexible, but he sees it. A small indigo heart, sitting on his spine between his shoulder blades. A real, tangible soul mark. And- indigo, not black.

He doesn't cry. He can't, but his vision blurs anyway and he has to face the sink again to grab hold of something to keep himself upright.

It's like deja-vu, then. He doesn't hear Vyncent coming, just sees him in the reflection, appearing behind him in the doorway. Their eyes meet, and William doesn't fucking know what to say. How do you- how do you ask someone that? How do you ask, "Hey, I know we took comfort in both not having soulmates, but- are we?"

Vyncent doesn't make him ask. His eyes flicker between William's face in the mirror and the soul mark, and instead of saying anything he turns around and pulls the hem of his shirt up to his neck.

"What colour is it?"

Reading people has never been William's best skill. Reading Vyncent is even harder, given the cultural differences. So he doesn't try to decipher how Vyncent feels based on his voice, he just stares at the heart on Vyncent's back, in the exact same place as his own. And he answers, voice softer than he expected, "Indigo."

There's a long beat where neither of them move. Then William turns to face him right as Vyncent drops his shirt back down and turns at the same time. And William is made acutely aware of many things - how he's still shirtless, the coolness of the sink at his back, the fact he's been dreaming about this moment since he was 13 years old, that Vyncent can move incredibly fast when he wants to...

And how it feels to finally kiss Vyncent Sol. He barely processes it as Vyncent moves closer to him, stays standing where he was even as Vyncent reaches out and rests his hands on William's shoulder and hip. He's so warm, skin to skin, and Will thinks he could hear Vyncent's heart pounding as they draw closer and then lean in as one.

There aren't fireworks, but they don't need them. It's a little awkward, because clearly neither of them are used to this, but William tilts his head just right and suddenly the cold doesn't matter, the fact he never believed this could ever happen for him doesn't matter. He can feel Vyncent's heart, his breath, and his hands feel like they're burning him in a way he could get addicted to.

He doesn't want it to end, but he knows they definitely have to talk and maybe let him put a shirt on, so he pulls back first. He's never been this close to Vyncent's face before, and he wants to memorise it instantly. He's so gorgeous it's- distracting, right, because he wanted to talk.

"So -"

"Oh, I -"

They both stop and have to hold back laughter. Vyncent rests his forehead against William's and Will has to seriously focus to stop himself from falling through the floor at the gesture.

"I- Was that OK? Sorry, I-"

"No, hey, it was- more than OK, Vynce, really." He moves his hands up from where they'd settled on Vyncent's sides and holds his face and his hands. "It was perfect. I l- We're soulmates!" He laughs, more than he has in weeks, a full laugh that shakes him and then shakes Vyncent as he joins in. "We're rucking soulmates, Vynce! The real thing!"

Vyncent stops laughing before him. It takes Will a minute to get himself under control again, and when he looks up he can see Vyncent watching him with pure fondness in his eyes and thinks, maybe, if he hadn't been in love already then he definitely is now.

Later on, there will be time for more kisses. There will be time for talking, and cuddling, and memorising every line of Vyncent's face, learning exactly where their soulmarks are and knowing it's a part of them. For now, though, William is perfectly content to stay right where he is and let himself be stupidly, hopelessly, happily in love.

[beelmons]

Escapade 4

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!reader Rating: Explicit, readers under 18 are not advised to read this story. Tags: smut, best friends to lovers, possible angst at some point, porn with plot, mentions of weapons, minor OC appeareances for plot purposes, mentions of death for plot purposes, unprotected sex, reader drinks a bit of alcohol. Summary: A new case drops and someone you know is involved. Spencer is there to help you through it. Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 / 3: Bonus | 4 | 5 | 6 A/N: Repost so it can appear in tags. If you want to be added to the tag list for future chapts, let me know in the comments or my ask! Tag list: @punkndisorderrly

Best thing about sleeping with someone from your same line of work was the amount of understanding they could have for your lack of availability. Being professional, as long as you weren’t under the sheets, was a priority for both Spencer and you. The Missouri case had gone without further issue, and mind you, neither another escapade. UnSub was caught after only three days, families reunited, a good ending to a job well done, as happy as they come. Best part about it all: it was time to celebrate.

—Sorry, guys, I have a date to get to. —Morgan responded when Garcia proposed margarita and nacho night at one of the local Mexican pubs.

—What? You didn’t tell me about that! —Penelope reproached.

—Sorry, mama, escaped my mind. I’ll see you guys tomorrow. —Derek took a second to kiss his best friend’s head before darting out of the ballpen with a wave towards the rest of you.

—God, JJ? —she looked expectantly towards the blonde.

—Sorry, PG, Henry is out with a cold and Will’s got a shift.

—Jesus, I hate mommy duties, although mothers are awesome and real-life heroes that deserve all the respect and love in the world. Go take care of your munchkin and have a good night. —she patted Jennifer on the back, basically pushing her out of the way.

Hotch was locked in his office, and Rossi was long gone since it was cigar club night. Prentiss looked at her with pleading eyes, too tired to voice out any complaints, which Penelope understood the meaning of in no second. She gave her a sympathetic nod and Emily bolted out of sight. Everyone knew a calm night with Sergio was due for her, and well deserved, too, but that meant it was your turn under the Penelope Garcia Polygraph sight.

—I’ve got plans tonight, P. —you answered in a hurry.

—And the holy spirit! —she grumbled in complaint—Of course you do, you are a highly solicited beautiful being. —you crossed puzzled gazes with Spencer at the bizarreness of the compliment she offered— I guess it’s just you and me, boy wonder.

If you were given a wish to have any moment in history turned into a picture you got to keep, you would have asked for Spencer Reid’s face after he heard those words. You hadn’t officially told him, but after being left with the frustration that night in Missouri, when Morgan became the least desired intruder, you assumed you would take the raincheck as soon as you landed back in DC.

—You wouldn’t believe me if I said I also have a date, would you? —Spencer asked Penelope as he fidgeted with the strap of his bag.

—That depends, would you be telling me the truth?

—No. —he answered softly, almost ashamedly.

—Then it’s settled! —Garcia responded with a bright grin— I promise not to have you out so late, okay? Just entertain me for a while, it’s not every day that we get such happy endings, it’s just fair we have a happy night, too.

—Alright.

The smile that crept through his lips defused the annoyance growing within you. It was hard for Reid to say no to Penelope due to having an unyielding love for her, amongst other reasons, so they shortly found themselves at the bar down the street. You walked with them up to a crossroad before you took the bus home. Tiny, trivial problem: you didn’t have any plans. You made the excuse up hoping Spencer would have one of his own and the night would end in either your apartment or his. Perhaps you weren’t as connected as you thought, or maybe his social life was just that sad, regardless of the reason, you were now on your bed laying down with your eyes fixed on the ceiling, bored out of your mind.

Few blocks down the road where your workplace was located, Penelope and Reid shared a plate of vegetarian nachos, courtesy of the ethical agricultural practices enthusiast, and downed a couple strawberry margaritas.

—I swear, three days, I mean, it’s gotta be some sort of record, right? —Penelope gushed about their recent solving.

—Our shortest has been two days, twelve hours, and thirty-four minutes. Ten hours, actually, and five minutes if we don’t count the briefing meeting and jet ride.

—Still, you guys did an excellent job. Who would have thought something as happy and colorful as a balloon would inspire someone to kill? And most importantly, how do you figure out something like that?

—Hotch gave me the credit for the breakthrough, but I had help. —he clarified, and rightfully so, since the idea of a balloon fetishist being the UnSub had occurred to you before he modified the profile based on that assumption.

—Ah! —she exclaimed excitedly— that’s right, that little partner of yours is a real smart cookie, and pretty too, the guy she ends up with is going to be incredibly lucky.

—Right. —something in Spencer seemed to dim at her words and the pursing of his lips, which always gave him away, didn’t fail to notify Penelope.

—Aw, don’t worry Reid, you’re always going to be her true love.

—What? —he almost stuttered as he asked, genuine surprise in his voice—What do you mean?

—It’s like me and Derek, right? Sure, he has all these women, but who does he love more than anyone else? —she made a pause to point at her entire person— There’s just something about the bonds we create in that office, what starts in the BAU remains forever.

Spencer was about to contribute to the statement, until a familiar voice interrupted his train of thought.

—Please don’t say that Penelope, it would mean the bet I made with Prentiss regarding the fourth Mrs. Rossi will go on for an eternity. —you barged into the conversation.

You could see the way the woman’s face lit up, her hands clapping together as she watched you approach the table. You were walking from behind Spencer’s seat, they had chosen a booth, so his head had to tilt upwards to catch your face. You motioned for him to slide further against the wall to leave space for you to sit down, which he gladly did; you made sure to set the jacket you had just removed on your right thigh, the one that was grazing Reid’s, as you took a seat next to your partner.

—What are you doing here? —she asked with particular joy in her tone.

—Got stood up. —you shrugged off the question nonchalantly.

—No way! —she exclaimed a bit too loud, possibly the margarita’s doing— Do not worry my sweet child, his loss, we will make sure you forget all about him. I’m getting us another margarita round.

Although he wanted to object to the idea, being that he wasn’t that fond of drinking until passing out, Spencer was left with his mouth open as Penelope dashed outside the booth and toward the bar on the other end of the establishment. There was a minute of silence as you looked back at Reid only to find that his eyes had landed on you first, he furrowed his brows briefly and licked his lips, you knew he did that when he struggled with finding words.

—I’m sorry you got stood up. —he said.

—Reid, I didn’t have any plans. —you couldn’t help but laugh quietly at the obliviousness of the man before you—I made them up thinking we were going to pick up where we left back in Missouri.

—Oh. —his tone was disappointed— yeah, I didn’t get the hint.

—No joke. —you smiled reassuringly in his direction—We could still get out of here, though, maybe back to my apartment?

You made sure to lock eyes with him as you let out your sentence, your hand travelled to the side, caressing the thigh that was closer to yours on a place that was certainly not appropriate for coworkers. The touch made him flinch and his hand was quickly on your wrist, causing it to stop your movement.

—Are you crazy? —he whispered—If she sees us, we won’t hear the end of it.

—God, all right. —you grumbled, retracting your hand.

He was right, you hated that about Spencer, he was always right. However, something you would soon come to find out, he was also always horny ever since you started your little arrangement and he seemed to be feeling more confident and daring, too, a rare combination of attitudes when it came to the young doctor. As you moved your hand back, his didn’t stay put, he swiftly moved to tug on your middle arm, forcing you closer to him as he whispered into your ear.

—We’re going to make Garcia company for a couple more margaritas, we will escort her back to her place, I will offer to do the same for you like the gentleman that I am, and we’re going back to your apartment so I can behave like anything but, got it?

His face was so close to yours you could feel his hot breath brushing the side of your neck. His grip wasn’t hurtful, rather commanding, and the way his voice lowered to mutter such words had electric shocks sent throughout your entire body. A smug smile drew across his face at your shocked expression, if he was doubting his sexual skills a few days back, you couldn’t find any trace of hesitation now. But it was nice, the confirmation that the burning desire to be with him again was not one-sided.

—Sorry to be back so quick, —the words from Penelope, whom you didn’t even notice approaching the table as you focused on the instructions your partner was giving you— and I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Hotch needs us back in the office.

—You have to be fucking kidding me.

Two astonished pairs of eyes landed on you. You didn’t mean to say that out loud, if you were being honest, but your frustration was growing uncomfortably fast, and there just seemed to be so many obstacles for you to have Spencer’s balls in you, something you desperately wanted. You backed your reaction with an explanation on how the night was not going the way you had planned, and Penelope seemed to understand. The three of you walked back to the office as Garcia explained you some details of the case Hotch had emailed her beforehand. You were the first to arrive back to the round table and earned a heartfelt apology from Aaron for making you come back so fast, couple minutes later Rossi walked into the room with a strong smell of Cuban cigar and an annoyed look on his face, followed by Jennifer and Emily who looked like death itself had taken pity on them from how tired they seemed, and shortly thereafter Derek joined you with mere disappointment in his eyes. He took his seat, defeatedly, next to you.

—Feel you. —you muttered for his ears only—Didn’t get any tonight either.

—See, the reason I look so pissed is not because I didn’t get any, it’s because I got half.

You let out a quiet ‘oof’ in solidarity and decided to pat his shoulder. Derek was sitting on your left while Reid remained on your right, apparently unaware of your interaction with your mutual coworker.

—I’m aware some of you had other commitments, and I do apologize for making you come back in such a rush, but the director has asked personally for our help, and this case needs to be handled with outmost secrecy.

—And why is that? —David asked.

—Because it involves deceased FBI trainees.

Hotchner’s tone was as stern as ever, and you could hear the quiet gulps everyone let out. Each member sitting around the table had been a cadet once, a justice-filled kid with ambition to take over the world, it was unsettling, to say the least, to picture such dreams turned to ashes because of a serial killer.

—There are two dead and two missing so far—Garcia took the controller away from Hotch when she noticed him struggling with the button—Dylan Parker, 28, was found hanging from his room in Philadelphia, initially presumed suicide until forensic evidence showed no trace of rope fibers on his hands. Andrea Rogers, 27, alleged car accident in Norfolk, alcohol levels were high but there was no sign or residue of alcohol in her mouth or throat. As for the missing agents, there’s Carlos Gonzalez, 28, last seen leaving the FBI building here in Quantico-.

—He looks familiar—JJ interrupted.

—He works as a desk clerk in human resources a couple of floors up, Dylan Parker is an archivist for the Intelligence and Research branch in Philadelphia, and Andrea Rogers was a data analyst for the criminal justice information services located in Norfolk. None of them with high-risk jobs or sensitive information to have extorted. Who’s the last one, again? —Reid offered an explanation of his own, earning a playful glare from Garcia who was trying to finish her presentation.

—Right on the money, baby genius, and if you don’t know the last victim’s name it’s because I, in fact, have not told you yet. Conrad Smith, 28, he’s a Virginia P.D. desk clerk in D.C. who was reported missing by his soon-to-be ex-wife when he didn’t show up for court last week.

—Hold on, you said the connection was that they were FBI trainees, but this Conrad guy isn’t even in the bureau, why is he involved in the investigation? —Morgan barged in.

—None of them are actual agents, they are all administrative staff —Emily contributed.

—The connection is not referring to their current occupations, rather, it refers to what they went through previous to obtaining their current jobs.

—They all completed the FBI Academy training program but weren’t hired as Special Agents. —you finally spoke.

There was something about your tone that snapped everyone’s attention to you, and it certainly piked their interest when your eyes seemed to tremble at the picture of Officer Smith. Hotch took a mental note of your reaction, and the silence was starting to become awkward and tense. You were thankful for the way Spencer distracted everyone with his following statement.

 —Judging by the ages, they must have crossed paths in the academy, which means it is likely that our UnSub also went to the academy during the same period or he’s part of staff or faculty. —his eyes would switch between the team and you as he spoke.

—That’s the reason why this must be handled internally, it would affect the credibility and reputation of the bureau if word got out that there’s serial killing happening within the domains of the main office. Garcia, do background checks on every staff member working at the academy, classroom teachers, tactical trainers, even dorm monitors and cleaning staff. Reid, I need you to build a geographical profile for the attacks, we need at least an idea of where the UnSub lives, otherwise we have no real lead. Dave, take Prentiss to the local M.E., we are running an independent autopsy on the bodies of Dylan Parker and Andrea Rogers to see if there’s anything that initial reports might have missed. The rest of us will interview family and friends of the victims, they are driving in as we speak. Get to work.

At the boss’s commands everyone scattered from around the table. You were the first one through the door, your stomach felt queasy, as if something was swirling within you. You walked decisively past your desk, only dropping the file in your hands as you did so, and towards the kitchenette, as you arrived you took a second looking anxiously in every direction, had you really seen what you saw? You placed your arms around your stomach to soothe yourself as you continued to pace around the limited area while deep in thought.

—Hey —A familiar voice by the entrance made you flinch in your place. You hadn’t even realized that Reid had followed you the instant you left the meeting room— You okay?

—I’m fine. —your voice broke slightly at the affirmation

Reid simply stood there, watching as you fidgeted with your blazer and a hurt look in his eyes.

—Where do you know them from? —he dared to ask, noticing the surprise on your face at his inquire he decided to explain his reasoning—Your shoulders dropped, you are hugging yourself, which is a sign or self-comfort, and you just…—he made another short pause to clear his throat—you look sad, and I’m worried.

You weren’t sure if it was the way he always showed up when you needed him, or that he could read you like you were a children’s book, or simply the fact that one of your old friends from the academy was missing with the possibility of being murdered, but your chest felt so heavy, so tight that the only relief was to cry. Your tears started rolling down your face before you could even notice; Spencer took a couple of doubtful steps towards you, arms slightly spread to his sides, and only engulfed you into a hug once you closed the gaps between your bodies. You sobbed gently into his shoulder as he patted your head soothingly.

—I hadn’t seen Conrad in three years, even when we promised to stay in touch, —you mumbled against the fabric of his vest—the rest of them, I didn’t really know them well, but we shared some classes and were paired up in practice runs at Hogan’s Alley, the tactical training field.

After finishing your sentence you pulled back slightly, enough to be able to look at him in the face, but not for his arms to fall from your body, instead he loosely let them rest on the area of your waist, as he had familiarly done before during more intimate meetings.

—There is a possibility he’s still alive. —he tried to reassure you.

—There’s also a possibility we just haven’t found the body yet.

Your head dropped at the thought, if there was something as beforehand grief you were certainly feeling it at that moment; families, friends, they cling to hope, innocent minds can’t comprehend the reach of evil, but you knew, you knew what could happen, what probably already happened. As you were buried in a spiral of pain, you felt cold fingers against your chin forcing it up. Spencer made sure to look you dead in the eye as he spoke.

—Do you trust me? —he asked.

—Of course. —you answered with a confused tone, unsure of why such question would arrive now.

—Then believe me when I say we’re going to do everything we can to find him.

His face had gotten so close you could have sworn he was going to kiss you, his eyes travelling from yours to your lips and back. Your heart was pounding so hard into your chest, but what for? This man had seen you naked in more than one sense, what was there to be nervous about? Before you could find your answers, the sound of steps approaching caused you to separate hurriedly. You jumped back to create more space between the two of you, and as soon as you did, Hotch’s figure appeared. He took a second to read the situation, noticing how both of you seemed to focus on anything but his stare.

—Something the matter? —you asked to avoid a questioning from him.

—I need to see you in my office, immediately.

You nodded in response and followed after your boss without a further word, but that sentence would make anyone nervous no matter the time or place it was said. When you were finally behind the walls of his office Hotch poured a glass of water and signaled for you to sit down on the guest chair, leaving the glass by your side.

—Garcia has confirmed that all the victims were in the academy during the same period of time, she also found out that another two members dropped out in the same year, which should now be considered part of the victim pool.

—That’s great, but shouldn’t we be telling this to the entire team? —you questioned, and you heard him sigh.

—Your name shows up as part of the graduate class for that same year. I would like to know the nature of your relationship with each of the victims assuming you crossed paths at some point.

—Um… —you nervously stated, still not quite ready to talk about the situation yet— Parker and Rogers, I really didn’t know them well, Parker really had issues with handling guns, he would always doubt himself during tactical missions, Rogers was the complete opposite, always struggled on classroom assignments, as for Gonzalez, he was interested in securing a stable job, he just wanted to get into the FBI for the benefits and retirement plan.

—And what about Conrad Smith? —Aaron had that face that you knew well, the ‘I already know, I just want to hear it from you’ face, and through hardships you had learned that it was better for you if you just came clean.

—Conrad was interested in the psychology of the criminal mind. —you admitted— his end goal was to run the BAU one day, he mostly struggled with the social part of it all, he wasn’t very well liked by others. As for the nature of our relationship, we became close friends during the training period, and remained as such, but I hadn’t reached out to him for around three years.

—Do you know the reason for their departure from the academy?

—No. —you shook your head—There was a rumor about issues with the final tactical test, but Conrad never really told me what happened. It wasn’t until a day before the ceremony that he told me he wouldn’t be attending.

—Alright. Anything else I should know? —he looked at you expectantly, and you simply shook your head. He took a second to look at you, who was still a bit restless from the news, before he spoke back up—If you wanted to retreat from the case, I would understand.

—No fucking way, Aaron—you snapped resolutely at him.

—Okay. Check in with me every once in a while, cases with personal attachments can become difficult and you could accidentally endanger yourself, or the team. Reid will shadow your interviews, and you are not to go anywhere without him, understood?

—A babysitter? Really, Hotch? —you scoffed with an offended tone.

—No. —yet his was never changing— A friend that will keep a clear head if grief takes over.

Beautiful reminder of the reason you wanted to join the BAU in the first place: Aaron Hotchner. After having him as a guest speaker in one of your classes, you always found fascinating the way he would turn every tragedy he went through into a learning opportunity, and the devotion he put not only in his work, but in protecting everyone around it. You responded with yet another nod of your head and he signaled for your dismissal.

The case was going to be hard, no doubt, you couldn’t remember the last time you felt this stressed knowing someone’s life was in your hands, it was hard to focus on the tasks you were given. Lost in thought, you dropped on the chair by your desk suddenly noticing a sticky note that wasn’t there before.

“Meet me by the parking lot, third floor, row Z, spot 45.”  

It wasn’t signed, so you got an eerie feeling from it.

—JJ, has someone been in my desk? —you asked your coworker who happened to be walking by.

—Not that I’ve seen. By the way, I’m taking Andrea Rogers’s dad, Dylan Parker’s brother should be here in about 20 minutes.

—Okay, thanks.

You were intrigued by the text that was now in your hands, so you looked around in search of any clues. Everyone seemed busy, they were hanging to the promise of doing everything they could to find the missing people. Perhaps you were thinking too much, plus who would try to hurt you in the middle of a Federal Law Enforcement Building? You double checked the holster to make sure your gun was on you before headed to the instructed place.

Being almost midnight, the parking lot building was empty asides from a couple official SUVs, a little creepy if you were being honest. On the spot number 45 there was a parked vehicle and you started to approach it slowly, your hand travelled to the handle of your gun, the windows were polarized so you couldn’t see inside even when you tried. The driver’s seat’s door opened, and your instincts kicked in, you unholstered your weapon and pointed it towards the man coming out of the car.

—It’s me! It’s me! —Spencer yelled as he held up his arms.

—Jesus Christ, Spencer! —you yelled back as you put everything back in place— Don’t be leaving cryptic messages like that, I thought you were a hitman!

—Sorry! I figured you would get it was me from the handwriting. —he answered as he got out of the vehicle.

—Next time, just sign it.

You laughed and moved to the front of the car to rest against the hood, Reid followed you, standing right in front, his back against the building’s wall.

—Listen…—he began to talk.

—Reid, I appreciate it, but I really don’t feel like talking about it just yet.

—I know. I called you here because… —he licked his lips nervously— you were there when I really needed to clear my head, I want to do the same for you, I want to be here for you in the same way.

You raised your eyebrows as heat ran through your body knowing full well what he was talking about. Your throat cleared and you examined your surroundings quickly, making sure there was no one around that could overhear.

—I have an interview in twenty minutes, I don’t think we would be able to have a little escapade right now. —you said in protest when he took a step closer and his hands rested on your hips the same way they had been before in the kitchen.

—I went over every maintenance report for the last week, this section has two defective security cameras and have been deactivated for maintenance, but it hasn’t been completed yet, it’s scheduled due tomorrow. Prentiss and Rossi are out at the M.E.’s office, JJ and Morgan already took the interview rooms and Hotch is hiding in his office. We are in the clear.

Without letting you process the amount of information he gave you in such little time your friend’s lips were already on you. You could feel him grip the fabric on your waist with force, but the way his mouth moved was tender in comparison. Your head felt light-headed trying to comprehend what was going on, but your body caught up without hesitation, your arms moved to wrap around his neck while you returned the kiss.

Shortly after, you felt his entire body pressed up against you, if you didn’t know better you would have guessed that the urgency to please you was more about his desire than yours, but you needed this, god, you needed him. His hands soon began to press the fabric of your shirt up in attempt to untuck it from your dress pants so he could feel the skin underneath, the coldness of his fingertips made you shiver and caused a moan to come out. You sensed the smirk forming on his face at the sound, and he wasted no time before his tongue darted into your mouth. As a reflex, you jumped up to be sitting on top of the hood, your hips were at the same level as his and they rolled on their own against his crotch.

The little make out session was just adding to the burning sensation in between your legs and by the hardness in his pants he was having the same reaction. You pushed him back by the shoulders gently forcing the kiss to be broken, which earned a complaint on his side in the form of a whimper; your hands worked quick to undo your pants and he focused on his bottom clothes at the same time, you wiggled on top of the hood to lower them to your ankles, only your underwear remaining on. Reid took a second to move the piece of clothing away and rest it against the hood, the metal was cold, and the contrast felt interesting against your hot skin.

You looked down, eager to see if your anticipation was shared, and you were pleased to see that it was. When he freed his member, you reached out to grab it by the base to give it a couple of experimental pumps, he must have been frustrated because the low groan he let out was music to your ears. Without a word, he moved the fabric covering your core to the side and positioned his tip at the entrance, but before he entered you, he grabbed your legs again and looped them around his middle. His forehead laid on yours, and his eyes stared deeply as he pushed inside you. Aware of the sound you were about to make, his lips attached to yours once again, and your whimper was muted by the now familiar presence of his tongue.

His hips began to move and his palms were pressed on each of your sides against the hood. He was gentle, not doubtful was before, he was taking his time letting you feel every inch of him inside your walls, the quiet groans still being absorbed by your lips. You were tempted to grab his hair, to tug on those locks you loved so much, but you knew too much mess would give you away.

His hands gripped on your hips and tugged towards him, making you fall with your back fully against the hood. You moaned quietly at the roughness of his actions, the new position allowing him to hit deeper within you, you could see him entirely now, how his hips snapped against yours, the frown of concentration in his face, his reddened lips, and it only contributed to your excitement. His pace changed to a quicker one, and his hands decided to explore the front part of your body under your shirt, one of them gave a soft squeeze to your breast over your bra, and he wished he could see you fully naked in that moment, watching them bounce as he pounded into you.

The frustration of not being able to fully show him the pleasure he was giving you was excruciating, forcing yourself to stay quiet, to not scream his name every time the entirety of his cock was inside you, it caused a grimace on your face, and he noticed, one of his hands escaped the inside of your clothes and laid on your cheek instead, the pad of his thumb rubbing against the bone area. You felt your heart pound faster and warmth in your stomach you had long forgotten about. Without thinking, your palm laid on his, and you bit your bottom lip as his hips never ceded their thrusting.

He bent over to land a final kiss on you, his movements becoming slightly erratic, the remaining hand slid down your body towards your intimate parts and his thumb began to rub your clit in circular motions. The combination and the thrill of being in such a public place was enough to throw you over the edge, as your walls began to clench around him you could hear a deep, throaty groan coming from his throat, your nails dug onto the skin of his hand and your legs clenched around his waist when you reached your climax. He gave a pair of additional thrusts until he could no longer hold back, his entire body moved back and his hand held the base of his member, pumping it fast to push himself to reach his own orgasm, and when he did, he turned to a random spot to let out his seed.

You laid on top of the car with a pout in your mouth, Spencer was still panting from his high when he looked back and shot you a questioning look.

—What’s wrong? —he asked with concern.

—Seems like a waste. —you answered, referring to the place he had shot his release on.

He broke into a chuckle and pushed one of your legs playfully after fixing his outfit back up before he took your pants and handed them over. You slid your legs inside the clothing and jumped carefully off the hood of the car, trying your best to remove the couple wrinkles it had gotten in the process.

—Come on, lets head back, there’s work to do —he observed.

—At least now I got a clear head to go on the case.

You walked together side by side and you couldn’t see the bright smile that appeared on his face at your words.

—So, who are you interviewing? —he asked to break the silence.

—Dylan Parker’s brother, I guess Hotch will take Conrad’s mom —you made a pause, and he wanted to inquire about Conrad Smith, but a surprised gasp from your mouth interrupted him— wait, what’s the story for today?

—Oh, don’t worry. I walked Prentiss and Rossi to tell them about specific questions I wanted from the M.E., as for you, I would suggest you say you needed some air and we bumped into the elevator on our way back.

—That genius mind at work is truly amazing. Which reminds me, Hotch wants you to shadow my interviews, you know, just in case my judgement is clouded.

—That’s fine, I have experience babysitting Henry, pretty sure you won’t be a lot of trouble —he joked with a playful tone.

—In your dreams, Reid. —you teased back.

The exchange stopped once you entered the elevator back to the BAU office and there was a warm and loving aura that surrounded the two of you, it was making you nervous, if you were honest with yourself.

—After you. —his inviting voice snapped you out of your trance.

—Oh! Thank you. —You exited the lift with a smile and he followed behind, but before you crossed the main entrance you stopped in your tracks, your hand gripping his arm to make him stand with you— And thank you. —your second ‘thank you’ was softer and sincere, referring to the way he had just treated you.

He replied with an awkward smile and a nod of his head, without any other word he opened the crystal door for you to go in.

—I’ve been looking for you, Dylan Parker’s brother just arrived. —Hotch approached the two of you as soon as you stepped in, sensing an odd atmosphere surrounding you he questioned you— Are you good to do this interview?

—I just needed some air. —you quickly lied— I’m good to go, I swear.

—Okay. —Aaron nodded in response—Reid, I want you to observe, and any field activity that you might run into I want you to go with her, understood?

—Got it.

Without anything further, the Unit Chief drifted back to his interview room, and you felt like you could breathe again. Your mind was clear, and so was your objective. It was time to work hard to find the truth, and you were determined to do so.

[thequietkid-moonie]

Kae serinuma, Naoko kirino, Shouko nishimiya, Yuzuru nishimiya, Satou matsuzaka, Toko Fukawa, how they react to their S/O telling them "I'll protect you".

S/O saying "I'll protect you"

[ HEADCANONS ] [ Kae, Naoko, Shouko, Yuzuru, Satou, Toko ]

[ Kiss him not me ] [ Pumpkin Night ] [ A silent voice ] [ Happy Sugar Life ] [ Danganronpa Trigger Happy Havoc ]

You are really sweet to ask for this prompt anon, thank u =w= ❤️

Kae Serinuma

Before Kae lose weight she was used to recibe a lot of bad comments and jokes about it, but she never really mind it too much since she just prefer to focus and all the anime she love, and after she lose weight people start to see her as someone really atractive now she's being victim for harassment from time to time, but that is more difficult to ignore

Since Kae is rather easy to distract that sadly make her a pretty easy target, normally she is around her friends, who totally respect her and are ready to throw their hands to protect her, but that doesn't stop others to try weird things

When you tell her that you are going to protect her, her reaction may vary. If you say it on a peaceful day, like you two were just talking about trivial things and the topic of the harassment just came or you were on a date and someone had been looking at her in a bad way her reaction won't go further than become really flustered for it, she will tell you that you don't have to with an inmense blush, and if you insist she won't be able to say nothing more since she get overwhelmed by the love and confusion (since she doesn't enteraly understand why you are saying it). However, if you say it after you helped her to get away (or even directly defend her) from someone that it was bothering her (either as harassment or because they were making fun of her) she will be really flustered but she won't decline what you say, she actually can't because right now she just sees you as her hero (and probably end up crying for how overwhelmed she is by this situation)

Either way, she won't be able to properly calm down, because even after some time pass she still can't bring herself to stop thinking in what you had said, it makes her feel so loved and flustered, she can't stop her racing heart. She will be thinking on it so much that it would take her some time to be able to look at you on the eyes without blushing like crazy

She didn't really think if you actually will step in to protect her or not, in her mind you are already her hero and that is enough for her, and every time you do something to help her or defend her she gets all flustered again and her heart start racing

Naoko Kirino

Naoko had been suffering for a lot of bullying for a while now since the others she is seem as a weirdo, and even when she tries to act like nothing happen and that she isn't really bother by it she can't hide how bad other treat her

Naoko likes to brush it off and just continue, not letting herself be affected by it, even when deep down she just wish for someone to help her, but the only people who treat her with some kindness is you and Kazuya, and she will never force you to step in just to help her

The moment you tell her that you will protect her she was surprised, no matter if you are more shy or confident this was something she never really expected, it flattered her and make her feel flattered

As an inmediate reaction she gets excited and all bubbly for the idea of you wanting to protect her, she can't stop smiling and giggling for a while after what you had said to her, she may even go to brag excitedly about it with Kazuya, just by expressing that you want to protect her you had make her feel like she is the most happiness person in the entire world

Even so, she doesn't exactly expect for you to try to protect, you had already make her really happy by showing her how much you care for her so she wouldn't mind too much if you don't do much for her, mainly because she doesn't want to put you in danger, the people who usually attack her are truly merciless and she doesn't want you to get involved on it

But when you actually do try to protect her you will surprise her once again, it doesn't matter if you just help her avoid the bullies or directly comfront them, either way you are trying to help her and that is what matter

Still, she willl hate for you to get hurt too, or even worst become their target too, so after some time she will make the decision to do something to try to stop the harassment altogether, for the sake of the both she promise to herself to find a way to put an end with all this situation

Shouko Nishimiya

Shouko is used to be bothered for a lot of people, specially for being deaf, but she had always try to brush it off, not wanting to get into more troubles or cause them to others. She tent to just accept what happen and put a smile to face whatever it happen, normally the only one to confront it is Yuzuru

When you tell her that you will protect her she gets super flustered and become a blushing mess, she is mixed between feeling somehow guilty for make you feel like you should defend her and the overwhelming happines that she is feeling for knowing that you care so much for her to even wanting to protect her

She quickly tries to tell you that you don't have to do it and you don't have to feel obligate to do it neither, she doesn't want to be a bother to you, but when you make it clear that you don't do it for some kind of pity or because you think of her as weak but because you love her you make her feel flattered, it makes her feel so loved that will even start crying for how emotional she gets

You make her feel so happy by just saying it, but she won't force you to actually protect her, she wouldn't mind too much if you just let it as words but deep down she hopes that you will help her, mainly because it would make her feel that overwhelming love and apreciation again

She isn't someone who normally ask for help, so you will have to be the one with the iniciative to do something, either step in and defend her against someone who were bothering her or stand up for her when people talk bad about her behind her back

Every time you do something in order to defend her it makes her feel flustered, it would take a while for her to don't feel like she is bothering you by all of this but at the end she is always grateful for what you do for her (and she never get used to it, she will get super flustered and flattered any time you do it)

You probably will end up teaming up with Yuzuru to defend and protect her any time she needs it (and thanks to that she will apreciate you a lot, maybe even herself will start to trust you more and rely on you a little more if you let her)

Yuzuru Nishimiya

Yuzuru is so used to be strong, since she was just a kid she always had been the one who protected her sister, always trying to help her

When she finally trust you enough, relationship or not, she will let you see little by little her more vulnerable and weaks sides, that part of her that she had hide from the rest of the world

When you tell her that you will protect her she stops whatever she is doing to look at you on the eyes, she knows that you care for her and that she can rely on you when she need it, but you wanting to protect her is a new whole thing, even when she had been doing it for her sister all her life

Her reaction will vary depending on what you were doing, if you two were just hanging out, maybe having a walk while taking some pictures she will just try to brush it off, calling you out for being so cheesy and try to continue with what you were doing. In the other hand, if you say it when she was searching for your company and comfort, maybe cuddling she will not say anything and just hug you tightly while hidding her face in your neck

In either case she tries not to do a big deal of it, but deep down she hopes that you mean it, it isn't like she is a lady in distress but you wanting to protect her makes her feel so good knowing that someone loves her so much that even want to protect her

Maybe the opportunity does not present itself, or not at least until she goes back to the school since people could start to make some rumors of why she left or why she returned, in that case if you try to stop the rumors and even scold the people who were saying those things she will tell you that you shouldn't do that since is just a waste of time when in reallity she likes that you did it, it flattered her that you are really trying to protect her

Even so, she doesn't need for you to prove it or even do it, for her is already enough that you stay by her side and hear her vent or even just make her company in the silence, she is already grateful for all you had helped her until now so you don't have to do more (but she won't tell you that and let you continue trying to protect her)

Satou Matsuzaka

Before she had met you Satou had been with a lot of people, hoping that in that way she will find the love she craves for, and that could lead people to made rumors about her or talk bad about her on her back, but she had never really cared about that

Once she finally meet you she had stoped searching because she knows that what she feels for you is the love she was searching for, after meeting you she didn't care for the rest of the world

Even if she didn't care for anything else, Satou isn't helpless, she is perfectly capable to defend herself and she is really smart she can easily come up with a plan, but when you or her aunt is involved in the situation is when she feels more uneasy

When you tell her that you will protect her she feels like time just stoped, she can't help but just stare at you, a glitter start to slowly grow on her eyes along with a blush on her cheeks, she already sees you like her savior for showing her the true love, in her mind you are already like her knight in golden armor, but you wanting to protect make her feel all excited

Satou is so overwhelmed with the sweet feeling of love and happiness that you make her feel that she may even cry, throwing herself to your arms and expressing how much she love you, that you make her the most happiness person alive and that she will protect you too

Even when she loves the idea of you wanting to protect her she will never let you put yourself in danger, let alone for her, she cares too much for you to let you do something so dangerous, she prefers a thousand times to be the one who has to face the danger than put you in any kind of danger, and she will never let you meet her aunt either, that will happen only in the case that is an extreme emergency where she had not other option

The most you could do for her will be stand up for her when people are talking bad about her or when people are bothering her (either by trying to flirt with her or directly attacking her), and even if is just a small gesture any time you do it she is over the moon for it

Toko Fukawa

Kindness is something Toko is unfamiliar to, everyone in her life had treated her bad and thanks to that she had made an image of herself rather poorly

Even when Toko is already on a relationship with you she still have problems to get used to the idea of someone liking her, also, since her partner is someone she look up at that doesn't make things easier either (she could be a total simp sometimes)

The moment that you said that you are going to protect her she was taken aback and she will response rather harsh, but don't take her wrong she is really flustered and flattered that you want to protect her, but no one never had really care about her so she doesn't really know how to react to this

She had read about this kind of things in some books, may even wrote about it but she had always found it dumb, but right now this is really happening, and not just that but is happening to her!

She will ask you if you are piting her or something, because why would you say something like that? is that you are an idiot or something? (again, is just that she is just used to be treated poorly even for the people she had love)

The more serious/confident you are while saying it the more harsh her answer will be, in reallity she is so flustered and she is melting in the inside, if you insist on it, emphasizing that you will do it just because you love her she will be near to pass out for the overwhelming feeling of happines and love you make her feel

That moment is so special for her and she holds the memory close to her heart, and yet once she calm down she will say to herself that you were just probably lying, she does want it to be true though but she doesn't want to get excited over it

So if you actually stand up for her and defend her when others were talking bad about her or even directly attacking her she will be taken aback once again, truly surprised that you actually do it, she may answer a little harsh again but you can tell that she like that you defend her for how she get shy and with a blush on her cheeks (in reallity she is simping over you, but since she is so flustered she can't help herself but get shy)

Dont be surprised if you find a similar situation somewhere in her next book, is just that that moment were so special for her that she can't help but write it (even if is unconsciously)

[thephantomtheory]

A small note,

So as SnK is now officially ending, I just have a few thoughts I’d like to share — and in many ways, this is a thank-you note. I feel like this is a place where I can do that and no one will pass judgment on me for feeling so attached to a story (and forgive me, as I’m feeling very sentimental). So thank you, if you decide to read what I’ve written below. 

I was just 13 when I watched Attack on Titan for the first time, all the way back in 2013/2014. I remember my friend introducing me to it and I can still remember sitting on my bedroom floor while she showed me the first episode. Back then, it was such a different show. Or at least, we didn’t know that the story which was unfolding before us could only be told for the first time, once. There is no going back. Once you learn the truth of it, you can only return to realize that it was always this way, the signs were all there — you just didn’t know how to read them. What a way to tell a story. What a way to build a character, with that same approach. 

It’s been 10 years and my love for SnK has only grown as I have. I was 13 then, I’m almost 23 now, and so much has changed. Within all that change, I’ve always been able to revisit these beloved characters as every new chapter or season released. Despite the horrors they’ve endured, I found comfort in their perseverance. I grew up with them, and so as a new graduate, in which I’m watching my childhood sunsetting before me, it makes it twice as hard to say goodbye to them now. Sure, the manga ended 2 and 1/2 years ago, but there is such a sense of finality now that the anime is coming to a close as well. 

SnK is a masterpiece. In my opinion, it is one of the most brilliantly crafted stories I’ve ever read, and trust me — I’ve read a lot. As a writer, I look to stories, in any medium, as a foundation from which to build my own. I will look to SnK over and over again as a model for my own characters, my own arcs, and mostly as a way to answer the question: How do I tell the story I need to tell in a way that matters? Because at the end of the day, no matter how many flaws are littered within the pages of SnK, the story that’s being told matters. It matters to me, and I know it matters to so many of you, too. 

In many ways, the characters from SnK are my heroes. Truly, I often find myself wondering if I am acting with empathy and compassion the way Levi does. If I am able to grow and lead the way Jean does. If I’m allowing myself to be me, shamelessly, the way Hange does. I think about my relationship with my brother, and I think about Connie and Sasha — two halves of a whole. I try to love wholly, and fervently like Mikasa. I try not to doubt my abilities, the way I know Armin does so often and shouldn’t. Am I acting before I understand something? Can I hold onto my hope, breathe life into it, the way he embodies it? And every once in a while, I hear Eren in my head — fight. I have so many dreams and I’ll never get them if I cannot fight for them. I won’t live them if I don’t try. 

For what will I dedicate my heart? 

It has been such a pleasure to experience this story from beginning to end, to watch how it’s evolved and how it’s been received. And it’s been so humbling and beautiful to be able to experience it with all of you. It’s been so much fun. 

Here’s to many more years of loving this story, even when the dust on the shelf begins to settle. 

“Maybe the reason I was born was so that the three of us could be racing there. I thought the same thing when I read books at home on a rainy day. When a squirrel ate some nuts I gave it. When we all walked around the market, too. I felt it. That these trivial moments… might actually be precious.” - Armin Arlert

“I was very happy to spend time with readers that I would never have been able to experience if I lived a normal life. Also, now that the series is over and I’m free, I want to walk around an unfashionable town with a cup of sake in my hand. I think that’s what freedom is all about.” - Hajime Isayama 

See you later, Eren.