#it feels wrong to tag both because while it’s about both it simultaneously feels to me like neither

[quibbs126]

Oh yeah, I was planning on saying “hey for Valentine’s Day, can someone draw Orion Pax and D-16 but with the vibes of this?”

Since for some reason this combo and picture gave me similar vibes to that pair

But Valentine’s is basically over now, so oh well. My bad. Should have posted the suggestion sooner

[pamillie]

I feel like the more I surf the Dandandan tag, the more I come across people grossly misusing the term “fan-service”.

Here’s my take no one asked for.

(A read-more for descriptions of SA, etc)

The depiction of nudity, the SA, and the bodily violation shown in Dandadan are meant to make viewers uncomfortable at times, but are also meant to convey humor or terror or to be relatable.

I think the story exists in this balance between being whacky and goofy and not taking itself seriously while also having these very mature moments with depth.

The murdered girls in the bound spirit that Turbo Granny was guarding. The exploitation and violence that Acro Silky experienced as a woman- just as the two most prominent examples in the anime so far (there are so many more in the manga).

But time and time again, the teenage characters themselves are not being overtly sexual. Sure, there’s ball jokes and awkwardness and the like. But it’s never escalated to the point of making the characters seem horny or perverted.

I think Dandadan is a lot of things. It’s wrong to say that it’s totally and intentionally a gritty and symbolic metaphor for sexual violence just as it’s wrong to say it’s nothing more than a stylish battle shonen or a raunchy romantic comedy.

What I think it does strive to be though is universally relatable. Women and girls can (unfortunately) relate to the depictions of SA we see through Momo. Young men and teenage boys can relate to feeling worthless or useless based on a perceived lack of masculine traits like Okuran does. Or the feeling that they have to craft a likeable or palatable persona just for others to value them- despite the grief or loneliness they’re experiencing privately- as Aira and Jiji experience.

And not for nothing- I think the point I keep coming back to when I try to explain the appeal of Dandadan to other people is how it captures how SIMULTANEOUSLY traumatizing and precious being a teenager is.

Puberty is inherently traumatic. Going about life as a child only to suddenly be ogled like an adult, when all the while you haven’t even come to terms with the changes going on with your body? It’s terrifying. It’s vulnerable!

Is Momo still ‘valuable’ after being called a slut or being pursued by older men? Is Okuran still a ‘man’ even if he lost his junk?

People keep saying that ‘the story could be exactly the same with aged-up characters and then it wouldn’t be gross’ but I disagree. The story would NOT be the same.

Because something else you gain with puberty and growing up is a radical and empowering acceptance of yourself. It’s this scary uncharted territory of deciding who you are and how you want to be perceived by the world. It can be a rejection of who you were before or boldly asserting who you’ve always been. There are other times in your life where you will change or develop but there’s a reason coming of age stories set from around 12 to 17 are so timeless and universal.

The fact that Tatsu is telling this genre-bending subversion of a story in a generic high school setting is actually the most genius part about it in my opinion.

It takes itself just seriously enough to be emotionally gripping and realistic while also reminding you that the most embarrassing thing that ever happened to you probably wasn’t even that bad- you were just fifteen.

So anyway- stop calling it fan service. And just accept that stories about puberty deserve to exist. Especially if they can accurately portray both how hilarious and traumatic it actually is.

[manhattanstrawberry]

HE LOVES ME, HE LOVES ME NOT, HE LOVES ME!

Synopsis: You’re the assistant general manager and he’s the hot, talented athlete for the team you’ve been working for. You’ve known him for years but the sudden distance he puts between to the two of you has your mind racing and you can’t stop wondering— “does he hate me?”

Tags: fluff!! msby atsumu x assistant general manager reader, extremely overthinking reader, slight self sabotage on both ends, smoking (cigarettes), consumption of alcohol, intoxication, fluff!! He’s in love with you and you’re just going in circles in your mind

Warnings: mdni , sexual content, suggestive content, doesn’t go too much into the details

Word count: 7.6k

Author's note: Realistically a general manager of a professional sports team in your early/mid twenties is not realistic, and neither is an assistant general manager because they’re both a lot of work but we shall ignore reality and indulge in the make belief that make fics work! I try my best to keep outfit descriptions as vague as possible while also keeping the occasion in mind so you can kind of imagine your own thing while still sticking to the theme. I had a martini in the middle of writing this for extra brain power and I don’t think it worked, so I hope you enjoy!! ღ

Art credit: @Freaka_LoonyZ

He hates you. He has to. You’re convinced that he harbours an unmeasured hate for you. At 7:30 every morning he walks into the gymnasium for training, heading to the locker rooms before starting his routine in the gym before he’s ready to start training on the court. You’ve built up a patience for his recent behaviour around you or perhaps the behaviour of not being around you at all. 

You know how Astumu is with everyone else, he’s unruly, chaotic but passionate and determined and he cares— well for everyone but you. You’re not completely sure if it's exactly hatred for you he possesses or just a simple dislike, you’ve seen him interact with people he doesn’t like, teasing and berating them right to their face in subtle humour. He plays his dislike for people well when he’s around them, but for you…there’s no teasing, no snide remarks, not even that little snicker he used to do whenever you got water dripping down your shirt from trying to fill your water bottle with the faulty water dispenser that's yet to be replaced. 

Perhaps you've done something wrong, something that's upset him? But you can’t recall a moment where you could have caused him to feel like he had to start distancing himself from you. Even now as he walks into the training center 16 minutes earlier than usual, and you’re unaware it's him behind your office door when you hear three knocks. 

“Come in!” You absentmindedly invite the individual into your office, without looking up from the documents you’re flipping through. The sound of the door knob twisting has your head lifting up only to see Astumu walking through the door. His hair is a bit dishevelled, probably from trying on three different shirts to decide which one to wear today and his socks are about one shade different from the other. He’s unmoved by the door, as you stare back at him. 

“Oh Miya, you’re here earlier than usual.” You give a polite smile, trying to settle your own nerves while simultaneously watching your words hoping not to upset him any further than you have. You see his face fall for a milli-second from your greeting. He’s not used to his last name coming from you after all this time of knowing each other. 

“Yeah, coach said to check ya this morning. The nutritionist did up a new dietary plan for me apparently.” 

“Oh yes, sure.” Reaching behind you for the folders stacked on top of the low shelf. “Here it is, if you need anything to be clarified, you can always reach out for me or the RDN.” 

Your fingers hold the folder at the edge of the edge to prevent the opportunity for your fingers to touch his, although the folder is about 10 inches long and he holds on to the top while you hold the bottom. Your nerves around him will surely kill you soon. 

He utters a thank you before he turns away to leave the room. 

You watch him exit the room reaching for the door knob to close your office door, but you catch him turning around with a slight tilt of his head, a few strands of blonde falling into his eyes. 

“Are ya always here this early?” 

You give him another polite smile, while gently nodding your head. “I’m here everyday by 6:30.” 

“Ya learn something new every day.”

And he’s off with the click! of your door closing. That’s the most he’s said to you in about a month and half. 

As of lately you’ve barely been around the team as much, as you're covered with the increasing workload, which increases every second you fail to find a community relations director. The organization has always been strict with giving back and allowing their team members to work with others, from charity events to allowing aspiring children to learn a few things from their favourite professional players. 

Your biggest fears came true and everything went to shit about two months ago when the current community relations director at the time had resigned abruptly due to illness, leaving you with the job to find a new one on top of your already heavy workload. 

You check your wrist watch to see the arrows point to 12 and 3, 15 minutes past noon. Maybe you should get lunch or maybe you’ll continue to work and discuss with the coaches, general manager and athletic director about the two best profiles that caught your eye. 

You leave your office and head to the courts, where you find Coach Foster, with his arms folded, talking to Meian as the other members are lying around the court, probably on a quick water break. 

The click of your heels against the PVC flooring catches his attention as he turns his head to look behind him to see you walking up. 

Meian calls your name with a familiar greeting as you greet the two men. 

“I haven’t seen you out of the rabbit hole in a while.” 

You laugh a bit, at the obvious lack of your presence around the team as of recently, “I’ve been swamped with work.” 

“Got any good news for me today, I’m not sure if I can handle anything else today.” You hear Coach mutter with an exasperated expression across his face. You give him a sympathetic smile hoping that you’ll be able to lift a bit of weight off of his shoulders. Meian excuses himself before jogging back on to court towards Hinata excitedly telling Astumu about something that happened to him in the morning. You meet Astumu’s eyes for a second before turning back to the coach quickly. 

“Yes, I’ve got two profiles to look over for our new CRD. If one of them works out we should be able to get the team at an event in hopefully two weeks to raise money for the AFL charity organization.” 

“Great, I think they’ve been a bit on edge about the whole thing, especially Meian, so I’d like us to nip this in the bud as quickly as possible.” He massages the bone above his eyebrow as he sighs. “Thank you, just let me know when the meeting with the others will take place.” 

He gives you a grateful smile as you nod. Your head turns once again at the loud excitement from Hinata’s voice, his story still not close to the end and his eyes are once again on you before he turns away quickly without a care in the world. 

Three knocks at the door once again, it’s 6:54 a.m and you doubt Atsumu decided to come over 30 minutes early to the training center and then choose to visit your office. 

“Come in.” You shift the stacks of paperwork on one side to the other to pick up another 200 pound binder of documents. 

A familiar mop of ginger hair catches your eye and you look up to see a smile on his face. 

“Hi Shoyo, do you need anything?” You give him a welcoming smile as he plops down into one of the two armchairs in front of your desk. 

“Ya, Tsumu and Inunaki both got new dietary plans but there's no change in mine and I swear mine is not up to date with me anymore! Did Mrs. Yasuda say anything about meeting with me?” You hear a whine behind his words. You let out a small breathless chuckle at his behaviour, not surprised at all at his drive to improve himself even more. 

“No she hasn’t said anything to me yet, but I’m sure she’s drawing up something for you and I’ll check back with her just in case.” 

His face lights up as he's bowing in the chair, almost hitting his head on the desk in front of him. He sits up straight again and his eyes fall to your desk buried under papers and files before he looks at your face. 

“Did you go home last night?” He quizzes you, even though he’s sure he’s got the answer from the way your white button down is wrinkled with the top button undone. Your undereyes are dark and he can see a hue of red in your eyes from hours without sleep. Your reading glasses are slipping from your nose and it seems you barely have the energy to fix them. You’d never be at work looking so worn out with your jacket hanging on for life on your office chair and your outfit looking like that. 

“No.” You softly smile at him hoping he won’t make a big deal out of it but it’s Shoyo and he values self care immensely, you start to regret not locking your office door at 5 am. “I have some things to finish up for today.” 

“You should go home, if you don’t I’ll tell on you.” 

“Shoyo! I’m fine and I have two interviews to conduct today for the CDR so I’ll leave after that I promise.” You bite your lip nervously hoping that's enough to keep him from being worried about you for such silly reasons. “So don’t tell on me, okay?” 

You can’t take a break now and you can’t let the coaches or your supervisor hear that you’ve been working non-stop, it’s been a problem before and you had promised to take better care of yourself and rest properly but you have work to do so you just let them think that you have been taking better care of yourself. 

“You promise?” 

“I promise.” 

“Did I tell you about almost losing my big toe on the way here yesterday?”    

Two long interviews later and a pounding headache, you’re ready to leave the training center. You can feel the pressure from your arched heels shoot pain into your back as you walk outside of the training center to head to your car. Thank God for reserved employee parking near the entrance and exit. 

You feel a bit grateful that none of the coaches visited you or a call from your supervisor, letting you know that Hinata tattled on your unhealthy way of living. 

It’s about 7 PM and you can still hear the sound of volleyballs ricocheting off the floor and walls. You’re close to passing out and you’re not sure if you have the energy to drive back home but you slap your cheeks as you settle in the driver’s seat. 

The car gets cold quickly from the blasting AC as you drive home and you’re already dreaming about diving into bed.

You enter your apartment, walking from the entry hallway to the living room before it hits you. You still have work to do to wrap up plans for an away game in Spain, you immediately feel dizzy at the reminder going off in your head. 

Instead of racing to the office in the apartment you get ready for bed, passing up dinner and setting an alarm to wake up at 2 am to reach the training center for 3 or 4 to get back working.   

Your eyes feel heavy and your legs are barely holding you, you’ve got a meat bun in one hand to hopefully carry you for the next 4 hours and a coffee in your other. The training center is mostly empty, only auxiliary staff for the morning present or a few other administrative workers working late or perhaps early like yourself. 

You enter your office sluggishly, placing your handbag down on a cabinet near your desk to sit in your chair. You immediately get to work on the itinerary first for the athletes and everyone involved. You’ve got most things checked off for the upcoming travel plans. Flights booked? check, visas secured? check, hotel booked? check and the request to access a gymnasium for the athletes to train has been sent out for weeks. 

All that was left was for an itinerary to be drawn up for the team and a confirmation from the gymnasium that the athletes could use once they got there. 

You draft up the itinerary and look it over about 5000 times before you mass email to everyone involved. Yet you still feel unsettled that a confirmation to use the gymnasium requested hasn’t been sent back and so you dive into work to deal with that instead of taking a break. 

You look on your wrist watch to check the time to see its only 5, you’ve been here for only an hour and a half but it feels like an eternity and you wonder if you should take 100 melatonin pills and go into hibernation but you pinch yourself from falling over on to your desk and rub your eyes to force them awake. You hear three knocks on your door and you have no clue who could want you at 5 am in the morning. But you try to straighten your shoulders as best as you can before responding to the person at the door.

“Come in.” Barely any energy in your voice as you invite the person in. “Oh, Coach Foster, Good Morning.” 

You use all the energy left in your body to stand up and lightly bow. He takes a seat in one of the armchairs in front of the desk as you sit back down. 

“You’re here earlier than usual.” 

“Oh– yes I came in at three this morning to wrap up everything for the upcoming trip.” You nod at him hoping he won’t catch on to your deathly work ethic. 

“Right…Shoyo told me you hadn’t gone home at all yesterday.” 

God he’s such a blabbermouth sometimes.  

“Yes but it’s fine. I was able to finish up everything I needed to do and I went home last night to get some rest.” You smile at him, an indicator of how fine you are, which barely convinced him. 

“I don’t see you in the documents you’ve been sending us for the trip, are you not coming this time around?” 

“Oh no, I’ve got too much to do right now to leave the country and go elsewhere, but Mr. Tsuchida will be going so everything for me to handle over there will be taken care of.” You nod again. 

“I see, I think you should come— take a short break, but I’ll let the others know.” 

You nod as he gets up to leave you alone in your office. By now you're sure the other athletes are probably awake, perhaps on their morning jog before they get ready for training.  

At About 7:45 your door slams open, “You’re not coming with us?!” 

You wince at Bokuto’s loud voice and you wonder if the impact of his hands against the door broke the hinges. 

“No, I’m sorry but I’ve got a lot of work to do, dealing with you and your teammates by the way!” You remind him as you give him an apologetic smile. 

“But you always come! And you didn’t come last time, you have to come!” 

God if Bokuto’s begging like this, you’re dreading when Hinata realizes. 

“I’ll see what I can do.” You reluctantly reassure him.

Which is how you find yourself on a plane to Spain. You were told to work as little as possible and enjoy the city. You’re not sure how to treat this like a trip and forget work when you’re travelling with the team you work for but you brush aside the complexities as you take in the populated city of Madrid. The beautiful architecture of the city has you seeing stars before you get to the hotel. The team’s got two days until the games start so they’ve been taking the time to plan what they want to do tonight.

The boys feel at ease that Hinata has Spanish under his belt so going out to party before heavy training is a must for them tonight. You can see the coaches shaking their heads at their upcoming antics for the night before sliding into lecturing them to not drink too hard and to get proper rest as you nod alongside them in agreement. 

Sakusa seems the least interested in the whole ordeal but you know he’s about to be dragged along with the help of the others. 

The team separates as everyone heads to their rooms, some getting a single room or double as per requested. You’re a bit surprised that Astumu and the others didn’t choose doubles to room instead of singles and your mind, as it always does it wanders to what Atsumu plans to do, perhaps he’ll find a woman to bring back or something. You’re just overthinking and thinking completely wild things to put your mood down. When will you stop? 

You’re on the same floor as the athletes, still sticking to your job to oversee things but you allow yourself to relax as you enter your room. It's gorgeous and spacious enough where you can still get work done while also getting some well needed rest. 

You take a quick shower before you decide to take a nap before dinner and at 7:56, you hear three knocks on your room door. You almost fall off the bed trying to get up as you drag your feet against the floral rug by the bed. You walk to the door and open it slowly to see Meian outside telling you that they're going down for dinner. You perk yourself up at the sound of putting something in your stomach as you quickly get ready to head down. 

You slip on a simple white dress that falls to your mid thigh, pairing it with a pair of kitten heels before you rush out of your room in time to see Hinata and Sakusa heading towards the elevator. 

You’re hoping Atsumu is asleep or elsewhere so you don’t have to see him at dinner but your hopes come crashing down as you catch him where Meian and Bokuto are sitting with Inunaki. Shoyo takes a seat by Bokuto while Sakusa takes the empty seat beside Meian, leaving you with the choice to either sit in the last empty seat beside Atsumu or tell them you’re sick and you should go back up. 

But you’re starving, and you force your legs to walk to the seat beside Atsumu as you sit down in the chair, slightly scooting the chair away from him so his hatred towards you doesn't somehow enter your food and poison you. 

You give him a quick smile and clear your throat a bit as you pick up the menu, distracting yourself from his cologne and the way his arm flexes for a second as he reaches for another menu. You drown out the conversation around you as you try to choose something on the menu. 

“–are you coming?” 

Still immersed in the menu you don’t realize they're all looking at you awaiting your response. At the growing silence around the table you finally look up before Bokuto asks you once again if you’re coming. 

“Coming where?” 

“We found a club nearby, we want you to come!” Hinata exclaims, excited and ready to go out after the meal.

“Oh, I don’t think so I’ve got a lot of work to do.” 

“Weren’t you instructed to not work.” Sakusa retorts. 

“Well, you guys go on without me, I’m tired.” Meian sighs before you hear Bokuto refusing his choice and begging him to come but when Meian makes up his mind he makes up his mind.  

“This is my job, I have to work.” 

“Pleeease come.” Bokuto clasps his hands and you hear a clap from Hinata as he follows Bokuto’s position. 

“Okay, I’ll see.” You murmur, hoping that by the time they get there they’ll be too trashed to notice your absence. 

You put your attention back to your menu, taking note of the fact that not a word came from Atsumu, to come. He’d always try to invite you out with them before, always trying to get you to relax and take a break from work to go to some party but now he’s silent. 

And once again your brain goes elsewhere, that perhaps he got tired of you declining and thought you were too uptight and prissy to go out and he hates you of course. 

You order and try your best to ignore his presence beside you, but it’s hard when he looks that good for a casual dinner. The sleeves around his biceps straining against the fabric as he tears apart the steak on his plate, the way his jaw tense everytime he reaches for a bite and the bob of his adam’s apple as he drinks from his glass of mint lemonade. While you opted for a dry martini with the hopes of easing your nerves. 

As dinner wraps up, you head to your room planning to go to bed for the night, but you toss and turn checking the time every 5 minutes as you sink into the fluffy blankets of the bed trying to get your eyes to shut for the rest of the night.

 

The next time check you do it’s 11:14 p.m and you’re sure the boys are on their way to the club at this moment and you feel a bit regretful for declining the offer because you don’t think you’ve ever been in more of a mood to get wasted and forget about work and everything else and as if the universe was answering your prayers you hear three knocks at the door. 

You race to get the blankets off as you rush to the door to see Hinata standing there with his hands clasped and his eyes closed before he does a full 90 degree bow. 

“Please come! I’ll do a dance routine if I must and I’ll st–” 

“I’ll come.” You smile before he can finish his loud begging sequence. 

“Really!” He straightens up excitedly. 

“Yes, do I have time to get ready?” You ask a bit timidly hoping that you’re not inconveniencing them to arrive at the club later than intended. 

“All the time in the world!” 

“Okay give me a few minutes” 

You close your door, trying your best to look hot for the little time you have to get ready, opting for a more tighter and shorter dress than your dinner dress with another pair of heels, you do whatever you can with your hair and a quick makeup look that doesn't say that ‘you decided to come here 1 minute after hopping out of bed.’ 

You rush out the door and walk through the halls until you see both Hinata and Sakusa near the elevator. 

“You look great!” Hinata exclaims and you’re sure half of that excitement is really from the fact that you’re coming. Sakusa nods in agreement before he presses the button for the elevator, muttering to Shoyo beside him. 

“God, he’s going to lose his shit.” 

“Shh.” 

You ignore the strange interaction between the two. “Where are the others?” 

“Atsumu and Bokuto left earlier, I decided to take on the liberty to force Omi to come and you!” 

You laugh a little at his clear excitement to go out and party. 

The blaring of music in your ears has your heart feeling the loud beat of the speakers. The small flashing lights around the club have you wincing everytime they pass by your eyes while the red overhead lights providing most of the light to the club doesn't do much for you to see the faces around you properly. 

You catch Hinata saying something to the both of you but you’re barely hearing him over the loud music. 

“They’re by the bar!” He shouts a little closer to you and you choose to nod to avoid bursting your vocal chords from attempting to talk. You walk to the bar with the two men to see Bokuto talking to two other men and his face lights up from the sight of you walking towards him. 

“You came!” He eases you closer to the bar. You nod and turn your head to the two men he was speaking to expressing a polite greeting. You look around you and Atsumu’s nowhere to be seen and you sigh a little. Maybe he knew you were coming and decided to go elsewhere because he hates you of course. 

“Can I get you a drink?” One of the men in front of you and Bokuto offer and you nod, deciding to be careless for the night although both you and Bokuto watch the man like a hawk as he takes the drink from the bartender to give you. Safety first. 

You drink from the chilled martini glass handed to you and you can feel your shoulder’s relax a bit more. You stand close to Bokuto as the two of you converse with the men, every now and then ordering a new drink before you move on to getting shots. You were serious about letting loose and perhaps having fun on your own tonight. 

Hinata is elsewhere while Sakusa stays close to you guys, listening to the conversation but not interested enough to say more than 10 words when he inputs. And eventually you move away from the rest of the group with the man who bought you a drink. You’re not very sure of his name although he’s tried to tell you twice, but the music is louder and the alcohol is stronger so you don’t care enough to know. 

He’s leaning against the wall as he pulls out a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it before you can feel the smoke in your face. The familiar smell has you reaching for the cigarette from his lips to take your own drag from it, blowing it back into his face. It’s been a while since you’ve touched one after graduating university and it feels even better now since you restrict yourself from buying a pack everytime work gets extreme. You pull out one from his pack and he lights it for you. You’re smoking a cigarette with this man that you really have no interest in but you’re out and you’re having fun and most importantly you’re distracted from the thoughts of Atsumu. 

Which doesn’t last long, as the man blows the smoke to the side of your face, you’re giggling as you turn your head to feel the smoke against your left ear. 

And you see him leaning on to the side of the bar, his eyes trained on you from where you are. There’s a woman swaying around him as she’s talking to him, but he’s paying her no mind. His jaw is tense and his arms are crossed but you can see the way his eyebrows furrow not in anger or frustration— disappointment…sadness? 

You’re not really sure and now that you’ve got alcohol flowing through your veins you kind of want to storm over to him and demand an answer as to why he’s been acting like this towards you for months. But you don’t and instead you ask for another cigarette and a light before quickly shuffling through the crowd away from the man.  

You need air, you’re begging for air and you kind of want to be far away from Atsumu’s gaze. You could leave now, if you tell the others you’re not feeling well they won’t hesitate to take you back but you don't want to disrupt their fun. You exit the club and walk a few feet away from the entrance, taking a drag from the cigarette as you lean against the wall. 

You laugh a little under your breath, you’re sure he doesn’t think you’re that prissy and uptight anymore.You suppose you are, because smoking a cigarette with the stranger was the furthest you were going with him tonight. 

The air is a bit cool on your exposed legs and arms, only the cigarette provides any sense of warmth for you at the moment. 

You’ve known him for years and you wonder where you could possibly have gone wrong to keep him so distant from you all of a sudden. 

It’s probably about 1 a.m and you think you’ll just try to walk the short distance to the hotel in 4 inch heels and tipsy from the alcohol wearing off. You're stationed against the wall trying to build up your strength to walk back to the hotel but the sound of footsteps coming close disrupts you and you turn your head to see him walking up to you. His jaw is still tense while his shoulders look a bit more relaxed. 

“You look beautiful.” 

“Are you drunk?” 

He gives you a breathless laugh as he moves closer into your space. 

“No, tipsy maybe.” He breathes out as if he’s holding himself back. “You?” 

“Tipsy.” Your arms fall by your side as the ash from the cigarette falls to the floor, the hourglass of the situation. 

 “Why did you follow me out?” You ask quietly, nervousness hinted at in your words. Maybe he’ll tell you the sight of you here is stopping him from having fun, because well, he hates you of course. 

“I can’t stand— I didn’t like seeing ya with that guy.”  

You’re confused. You’re confused at his words and the way he’s so close to you, and the exasperated look in his eyes. 

“What do you mean?” Your voice strains as you question him. His hand combs through his hair in frustration, and he’s trying to articulate what he’s thinking without chasing you off. 

“Atsumu.” 

He looks at your face to see your eyes glossy, and he knows it's not the liquor in your system. 

“What do you want? You hate me.” He feels your hand on his chest trying to push him away. His eyes widen and he’s taken aback from your accusation. 

“I what? I don’t hate ya? Where’d ya get that from?” His eyebrows scrunch in confusion, with a frown to pair. 

“You! You’ve been ignoring me for weeks!” You stumble a little as you move away from the wall to jab your finger in his chest. “If you don’t hate me then why do you ignore me and speak less than 10 words to me and look away from me everytime I catch your eyes on me as if I’m going to turn you to stone.” 

Your finger jabs at him every time you list something and you wish he wasn’t so built because you’re sure it's not hurting him at all because you want him to feel a little pain close to what you’ve felt the past few months. 

He catches your wrist after the last jab and holds your hand down before hesitantly pulling his hand away. 

“I don’t hate ya, that’s not even possible for me to do.” He breathes out, as he clamps his hand into a fist. “I thought you hated me and I–” 

“Me?!” You point at yourself in disbelief. “You thought I hated you? Why would you think that?” 

He hesitates to answer you before he musters up the courage. 

“I wanted to talk to ya one day, but I overheard you talking to Sho in yer office. Said ya were tired of me or something’.” 

Oh. 

You can kind of see everything coming together in your head. You lift the other hand holding the cigarette to take a drag before you speak, easing your nerves. You want to go into this calm and collected. 

“I don’t hate you Atsumu!” You sob, and he’s a bit taken back at the volume of your voice, he’s never heard you like that before. “I’m not tired of you! I was jealous and I was tired of everything and you only heard that part you didn’t hear the rest of what I said and I didn’t mean it like that.” 

He looks at you as if you’ve hung the stars and moon in the sky as you ramble on and on, sniffling in between your sentences. “What were ya jealous of?” He steps closer to you, you take a step back only to meet with the stone wall behind you. The dim streetlight a few feet away from the two of you highlights his cheekbones and the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes in and out. 

“Nothing.” You cower, once again in that timid, uptight manner you always do, that he can’t help but love. 

“Tell me please.” He whispers for only your ears despite the fact there’s no one around except for the occasional pedestrians across the road and the small groups of people leaving the club every 20 minutes. 

“I don’t want to.” You whisper back and he feels like he’s being teased but he knows you’re being secretive and serious, choosing to protect yourself. “Why do you want to know.” 

“I’m in love with ya.” 

The cigarette drops to the floor before the hot ash could burn you. He did it in time anyway. 

Your lips form a small ‘o’ at the sudden confession. You stay silent, not a word coming from you.

Okay you’re trying to piece this puzzle now. 

“Oh I see.” 

He purses his lips before bursting out a laugh. 

“Ya see that I’m in love with you?” His features softening as his face inches closer to yours. You nod like you're in a trance, not trusting yourself to verbally express how you feel right now. 

“You don’t have to say anything ba–” 

“I’m in love with you too!” You exclaim as if you’ve finally solved a problem with the fine writing in a document. You clutch on to the shirt he’s wearing, fearing that your voice isn’t enough to let him know as you pull him forwards and back by his shirt. He’s barely moving, from your actions but he gets you and starts to rock himself so he can play along with your nervous antics. 

“Would’ya kiss me— or kick me, whatever yer up to.” 

You circle your arms around his neck to pull his head closer to yours, noses gently bumping into each other before you nod. 

He presses his lips against yours as one of his hands grab your waist to push you closer, the other holding the back of your head to keep your lips on his. You stumble backwards into the wall as his body pressed against yours heatedly as he gently pushes more into you, there’s not an atom of space between the two of you as you gasp in the kiss allowing his tongue to slip in. He can taste traces of the drinks you’ve been having through the night but he can mostly taste the sweetness of you and the sex on the beach you last had before you exited the club. He can taste a bit of the cigarette from earlier but he couldn’t really care less. He feels as if he’s floating in the sky and this is the first time in his life he truly feels like he’s made the nice list this year with an early gift from Santa Claus himself. 

“Atsu–” He hears you moan from the kiss and his knees go weak. You’re most definitely trying to kill him. He begins to move his hips against yours and you almost slip down the wall but he keeps you close to him, holding you with one arm as your back almost becomes one with the wall. 

He pulls apart for a second as his lips travel down your jaw and to your neck, you bury your hands in his hair, tugging and grasping at the strands as he litters your neck, sucking and kissing and you’re sure you can feel the blood rise to your skin. 

“Atsu– Atsumu, the hotel.” You mewl as he kisses a sensitive spot on your neck. You roll your hips into his as he continues kissing your neck before going back up to place a gentle kiss on your lips. Your lipstick is all over his mouth and chin, and you giggle as you kiss him back, a smile of his own growing as he slides his lips over yours. 

“Let’s go.” 

You bite your lip timidly and nod as he takes your hand in his to walk back to the hotel. 

“Wait Atsumu, the others.” You pull him back a little as you stop walking. 

“Who gives a damn.” He looks back at you as you look at him before pulling out his phone to send a quick text that he’ll be walking you back because you don’t feel good or ‘something’. 

Not even a second into his hotel room, he slams the door as your back is pushed up against the door. His hands are all over you and you grab his hair a little every time he kisses those sensitive spots. You feel hot as you move your lips against his, his teeth nipping your bottom lip to tease you. 

He slides the straps of your dress down before he’s kneeling on the floor to push your heels off, then moving his hands towards your waist, he pulls your dress down to him. The little dress falls to the floor and he kisses your ankles before letting his kisses travel up your leg and to your inner thigh. He raises himself a little to kiss your stomach until he reaches your chest and back to your neck. 

You moan breathlessly as his hands on your waist hold on to you a little tighter and his lips are back on yours in a second. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, yer driving me crazy.” He moans into your mouth. “Yer so damn pretty.” 

“Atsu.” You whimper. You're basically naked, only leaving you in your underwear as he continues to kiss you. You grab onto the back of his shirt as if you’ll fall to the floor any second now, yet his strong arms keep you upright as you push into him. 

He hikes one of your legs up to his hips as he grinds into you, a sweet sound of his name leaves your lips again. The sound of his buckle has him pulling away as you chase his lips, looking at him as if you’re ready to run away with him and grow old together. 

Wait, he’d like that. 

“Are you sure?” He moves one of his arms away from your waist to gently hold on to your wrist that was failing terribly at trying to release his belt buckle. 

You nod at him before giving him a short kiss on his lips. 

“I want you, Atsumu.” 

He thinks his knees just buckled a bit, there you are being so sweet and he wants to make you feel good. So badly. And whatever you want you’ll get. 

The sun peeks through a little slit through the two curtains meeting by the windows. Your eyes flutter and you feel a bit cold in the room, the sound of the AC blasting lulls you back to sleep, but the lack of warmth you felt from his arms as you fell asleep last night is absent and you open your eyes to look beside you. The spot is empty and the corners of your lips turn downwards as your arm reaches to the empty side of the bed. It’s not as cold as you’d thought it’d be and you suspect the AC is the one responsible for the lack of warmth on the sheets. 

You bring the sheets up to your nose as your eyes focus on the spot he was in last night and you can feel yourself getting hot from the way he touched and kissed you last night. The feeling of his bare chest on yours still lingered on your skin and the sounds he pulled out of you has you feeling a bit embarrassed. 

Your back faces the entrance of the room as you fail to hear the sound of the door opening, but you turn your head a little when you hear the click of the door closing and his footsteps coming towards you. You feel the weight of the bed beside you dip and you shift a little to lie down on your back. He sits beside you on the edge of the bed, before fixing the blankets by your feet. 

“Hi, sleeping beauty.” He greets you with a kiss to your lips before moving to place one on your forehead. Your eyes close once again as you pull him down closer to you. He’s laying over you with his arms holding him up enough from crushing you with his full weight. He feels a bit like a weighted blanket tempting you to fall back asleep. 

“What time is it?” Your voice soft as a whisper as you try to fight back sleep, and he can’t help but coo at you as you sink into the soft pillow underneath you. 

“11:52.” 

“Atsumu!” His body rises and falls back onto the bed as you quickly sit up. You swiftly turn to look at the little shiny clock on the nightstand. You groan as you move to massage your thigh a little from moving so quickly while sore. 

“Sorry, I wanted ya to sleep in. I know ya haven’t been getting much time away from work.” He’s lying beside you as you still sit up massaging your thigh over the sheets. “Sore?” 

“Mhm.” You fall back on to your back and he shifts so that he can rest beside you. A little kitten kiss to your neck has you immediately forgiving him, fingers carding through his hair. 

“Are ya hungry?” 

You shake your head.

“Have you eaten yet? Mrs. Yasuda said you’d have to be strict about eating at certain times.” 

“Yer not supposed to talk about work.” He muffles into the junction between your neck and shoulder.

You huff at his reminder, easing into the warmth from his arms around your bare torso under the sheets. The soft cotton of his shirt gives you goosebumps as he lays almost on top of you. 

He’s got training later and you should probably inform him of the plans on the itinerary you sent out to the team, but you breathe in the scent of his freshly washed hair from this morning’s shower and decide to enjoy a few more moments of the afternoon with him. 

The loud cheers of the crowd reverberates through your eardrums as you sit in your reserved seat. You nervously tap your heels on the floor as the whistle blows for the game to start. You watch Atsumu walk to the line for the first serve of the game and for a moment his eyes meet yours before he’s off. 

The crowd goes into an uproar from the first service ace of the game. 

You watch your team fight to keep the ball in the air from the current rally taking place before the ball lands on their side of the net. They're leading the game by 8 points, but you still mentally repeat in your head that they’ll win. 

Your eyes flit back to Atsumu, as he wipes the sweat dripping down his cheek with his arm and you can see the edge of that bruise peeking over the neckline of his shirt. You internally facepalm at the carelessness of marking him so close to the edge of the neckline. You're sure he wouldn’t give a damn if his whole neck was covered with evidence, so telling him to be careful about everyone seeing seemed pointless. And concealer would slide right off from sweat so what could you do. 

You pray that the cameras didn’t catch it, afraid that by the time you get back home, magazines of  a ‘secret relationship' are filling up the shelves from Osaka to Tokyo. 

You watch as Meian ends the game with a leading score of 25-17. You’re sure after four rounds, they're exhausted as you meet the coaches while the boys get interviewed and head to the locker rooms. 

“Did’ya see me out there.” 

You nod as he comes into your space, wrapping his arms around you to lift you for a second before putting you back down, still holding on to you. 

“You did great, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you.” You tease him. He laughs, it’s breathless and you can hear the exhaustion but it’s so genuine and soft. 

And he’s reaching for your lips to press against, a soft groan leaving him from the feeling of your silken lips. And although you’re both a bit hidden from everyone in a little empty hallway you’re still a bit paranoid. 

“Atsumu, be careful someone might see and we–”

“Let me be yer boyfriend, please.” He whines and you’re sure if anyone was passing by they’d think you just saved his life during heart surgery, from the way he looks at you. 

“Okay.” You nod and giggle as he plants a few soft kisses to your neck. “But don’t go around telling every person passing you on the street.” 

“Damn it.” 

He gives you another smile that has you weak in the knees, warmth blossoming in your chest as his lips find themselves back on yours to press a soft kiss. 

The sound of a click of a camera and a bright flash causes your eyes to open to look past Atsumu, as you watch the journalist run off before you can stop him. 

“Well, problem solved.” He shrugs. 

“I have to call the PR manager.” 

“Let them have it, I want everybody to know I’m yours.” 

And sure enough by the time you’re back in Japan, the blurry picture of the two of you embracing is at the front page. 

And although you don’t have to deal with the PR manager yourself, you do have to deal with Astumu sulking about the quality of the picture and the fact that he’s covering you too much for anyone to see it’s you.

 But he solves that problem himself at the next game when he kisses you during an interview in celebration of winning the game and the love of his life. And there’s no PR manager that can take that away from him.

A/n: can you tell idk how to write smut 💔

Divider creds: @strangergraphics @v6que @firefly-graphics

© manhattanstrawberry please do not plagiarize or repost my work

[rjthirsty]

Clavis Exhibitionism

Words: 2.1k

Tags: College AU, Sound Exhibitionism, Female Reader - Insert, PIV Sex, Creampie, Kinktober2024

“Perhaps we should be indulging in each other somewhere else.” Clavis offered as you snuck into his dorm room again.

Your very affectionate, very passionate, and very horny boyfriend somehow scored the room at the end of the hall, next to a fire exit that he'd let you in through, and the two of you had been making the most of it. To say you were fucking like rabbits was not far off. Every time you visited him you both ended up with your clothes stripped off, and utterly exhausted and pleasantly sore afterwards. Clavis had stamina for days. And you'd never been so taken care of before. 

“Wait, somewhere else? Why?” You went through the normal routine of removing your shoes and dropping onto his bed.

“The shifty fellow next door has made it clear he is aware of our activities.” Clavis shot a disapproving look at the wall he shared with his neighbor. 

That was quite the sentence. A multitude of emotions and thoughts simultaneously sprouted causing your jaw to drop and eyes to go wide as you turned to also look at the wall Clavis was frowning at. Your eyes darted back to Clavis and a surprised chuckle bubbled out from you as you tried not to grin too big. “You mean he can hear us?” You asked, stage whispering because now you're a little self conscious about being too loud.

“Apparently.” Clavis frowned deeper.

You bit your bottom lip, fingers covering your mouth as you touched your fingertips just above the peak of your top lip. It was shocking and delicious and kind of exciting and oh so very wrong, but incredibly bold for him to have said anything. “He's not going to snitch, right?”

“Oh, no. I don't believe that's the case.” Clavis answered, his golden gaze finally coming back to you. 

“Did he say what he heard?” Once again you bit your bottom lip, a devilish smile threatening to take over. 

“You're surprisingly inquisitive about this. Are you interested in that sort of thing?”

You set your palms on the mattress and give a small shrug with a playful head tilt, allowing the grin you've been trying to hold down to finally freely form. “And what if I am?”

Clavis’ lips quirked up in a teasing smirk. “Is that so~?”

He swept across his small bedroom to kneel in front of you, his low bed putting the both of you at nearly the same height. His fingers ghosted along the back of your ankles, sliding up your calves with the pressure of his touch increasing as he moved up your legs. “And here I thought you were an innocent one.”

You can't help but chuckle at his musing on your innocence. You were anything but. “We've all got something that excites us.”

Clavis’ hands pushed up your thighs, crossing onto your shorts where he hooked his fingers in the waistband. Eager for what was to come, you leaned back on his bed, resting on your elbows so you could lift your ass as he pulled your shorts and underwear free at the same time. He spread your legs and edged closer so he could sit between them. His fingers gripped your thighs, he had always loved your legs.

“What about you, Clavis? Doesn't the thought turn you on?” You rocked your hips from side to side, gently rolling your sex in front of him teasingly. “To know that despite our best efforts to keep me quiet, he can still hear how you make me moan. How many times have you had to cover my mouth because I couldn't think to do it myself? How many sounds did I bite down? All so we wouldn't get caught.”

His cock was steadily growing more stiff the more you spoke, and you were becoming more wet. You liked when he shushed you. You liked the thrill of being caught while he was fucking you senseless, how he had to kiss anywhere else but your mouth because to let your voice out would be the end of the fun you two had.

Clavis’ lips warmed your inner thigh. His hands gently caressed your naked legs. When he spoke, you could feel his mouth on your skin. “When you put it like that, it's almost flattering.”

“Mmhmm.” Your teeth toyed with your bottom lip. He was being a tease tonight. “And he's over there, getting turned on by us. But now how about I get the chance to moan your name? Can you imagine how sweet it would be to hear your name on my lips. He'd know how good you make me feel. He'd hear how often you were buried deep inside me. How many times you'd make me cum.”

Clavis slowly kissed up your inner thigh as you spoke. His tongue touched before lips met your leg, creeping ever closer to your waiting cunt. An appreciative groan came from him as an answer to your fantasy put into words.

“Let's make him wish he were you. Let's be noisy for once. Just this time. Let's make him envious. He could never have the real thing because I'm yours and you're the only one that can fuck me so good. Ah–” You gasped as Clavis finally reached your pussy, drawing a long lick between your folds. He repeated those delicious licks, wetting your clit by swirling his tongue around it. “Haah… nghn, Clavis.”

He moaned and the reverberation of his voice buzzed your sensitive bud. His lips puckered around it and he sucked your clit into a kiss. Fuck, he was so good with his tongue. He flicked the tip, caressed with flat licks, and varied the pressure as he played with your pussy. You could feel yourself leaking as your wetness dripped down your perineum.

Quiet keening leaked out of you. You were allowing yourself to make your enjoyment known, but still didn't want to get too loud. One neighbor knowing was fine. The whole hallway was not. Shifting, you brought your hand above your head and knocked purposefully against the shared wall. Clavis huffed mid-lick, his chuckle feeling foreign but decadent as he hummed before he spoke. “What a naughty vixen you are.”

“Uhnn--Clavis,” you moaned, his tongue circling your entrance. You wanted the guy next door to hear you call your lover's name. Imagining him pressing his ear against the wall to be certain he heard your moans thrilled you in a way you'd never experienced before.

The build up when Clavis used his mouth was always wonderful, but if you really wanted to scream you needed his cock inside you. “Mmmmn, Clavis?” You threaded your fingers through his hair. “Fuck me? Please?”

Clavis lifted his head to look at you, his golden eyes smoldering with lust. “Already? Impatient today? Or is it that you can't bear to be empty of me?”

He scrubbed a hand over his mouth to wipe your fluids from his face and worked his belt and pants loose. You crawled around the bed, turning so you were in it properly instead of short-wise how the two of you started. Knees bent, feet planted on the mattress, fingers fondling your stiff clit and the bundle of nerves that ran under the skin there, you licked your lips in anticipation as Clavis positioned himself between your knees.

“Fill me up.” You whispered seductively as you spread your labia and legs wider for him to fit.

Clavis sank into you. You were so wet he didn't need any additional strokes to bury himself fully in your cunt. He filled you and you pulsated around his cock. “Oh fuck, oh God, haaahnngh– Clavis!”

Your voice must have sparked something in him, because he gave you no time to adjust, pumping into you right away. His cock pushed into your cunt, rubbing your walls that were still trying to manage his size while also flexing around him. Ah, he felt so good, so hard. You loved to feel him bare inside you. 

Clavis scooped up your ankles, one at a time, setting your knees on his shoulders, kissing the inside of your leg as he put each one into place. Your pussy squeezed him tighter with your legs pressed together rather than spread wide around his hips. He loved the way you felt, too. The way your folds slid against his dick, the way your inner walls fluttered around him and how you felt where his tip rubbed your insides.

A moan escaped you, low and drawn out as he adjusted to push you into a mating press. His cock going even deeper and nudging against that sweet spot that made your eyes roll back. One of his hands grabbed your hip, as if to hold you in place as he pumped faster and pounded harder. His fingers dug into your soft flesh, leaving marks that wouldn’t bruise but would stay red for some time to come.

Instinctively, you went to cover your mouth, but remembering that you intended to put on a show for Clavis’ neighbor, you instead bit your knuckle as you let your squeaks and gasps pass through clenched teeth. Clavis was more enthusiastic than usual, his hips slapping against your ass, literally pounding the sounds out of your throat with every thrust, his weight rocking you and the bed.

Your fingers on your free hand dug into the comforter. You were close, the pressure in your belly growing tighter and tighter. Spreading your legs to drop them from Clavis’ shoulders, you opened your hips for him and felt him sink that last half-inch from nothing padding between your hips and his. His cock bottomed out, his pelvis completely flush with yours. Just a little longer and you’d be coming, you were so. Very. Close.

The noises you were making must have clued him in because after a few thrusts as deep as he could reach, Clavis ground his sex against yours, churning his cock inside you. The way his pubis mons rubbed against your clit while his dick rubbed you from the inside was exactly what you needed.

The stimulation sent the pressure bursting inside you. It snapped, cracking like a whip to the back of your skull. You might have been whimpering and keening before, but now you let out full blown moans that you couldn’t stop even if you wanted to. Every breath, every exhale had you loudly crying out as your cunt spasmed and clenched again and again while Clavis refused to relent, continuing to stimulate you and draw your orgasm out.

He rode through it, enjoying the way you squeezed and milked him. Dropping down to press kiss after kiss against your parted lips, he resumed rocking into you once you finally regained the ability to control your voice again. He hadn’t yet finished, and from the way he was stroking himself with your pussy, you knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. Clavis always slowed down right before coming, like he needed to draw out the feeling of you on his cock.

“Mmmmmn. Haaaah.” You allowed yourself to make pleasurable sounds, feeling every part of his dick rubbing against your sensitive insides. Unintentionally, your cunt clenched, perhaps you liked to hear yourself too? You had never really considered it before. “Nnngh, Clavis.”

As his name passed your lips, Clavis bucked into you. Without pulling out, he thrust against you again, and then a third time, trying to bury himself deeper, his biological need to pour his seed as deep as he can taking over.

“Oh fuck–nnngh!” You couldn’t feel his seed spilling inside you, but the way his cock throbbed, and the way his hips connected with yours was telling enough. And damn! It felt so good to have him thrusting so deeply, unable to pull himself free of his instincts. Like your sexes were communicating, you couldn’t help as your pussy spasmed in response to his cock pulsating inside you. 

Clavis cuddled against you on top of you, and you brushed your fingers through his hair. It wouldn’t take him long to be ready to go again, his cock rarely ever got soft once it was hard. The both of you took your time to catch your breath, nuzzling in the warmth of each other and the heat you had generated. Your lips connected, and wet kisses were shared between the both of you. His tongue sought yours and you matched his enthusiasm.

Clavis’ hands began to wander over your body, groping all the places he hadn’t had a chance to, yet. Then an uncommon sound came from the wall shared with the neighboring room. A purposeful knock. Tap. Tap. Tap.

Your jaw dropped and Clavis’ eyes went wide before you both erupted into laughter.

“What do you say we give him another round to listen to?” You giggled, fingers trailing over Clavis’ lower back.

“Only if you make those same sounds, again. You sang beautifully.” Clavis shifted, covering your mouth with his and coaxing a low moan out of your throat.

[spdrslayr]

001. atsv headcanons ! ★ jonathon ohnn & miguel o’hara both falling for the reader…

⁀➷ srcs... masterlist . rules . intro .

| synopsis, ୨♡୧ for the sake of this scenario, miguel and johnathon are working for alchemax in the same universe at the same time. miguel is a geneticist and johnathon is a physicist. you, my dear reader, are the cute receptionist!🥺

★ tags -> gender neutral reader; au; miguel o'hara; spider-man 2099; johnathon ohnn; the spot; love triangle; jealousy; fluff; etc...

★ warnings -> jealousy, slightly implied age gap, cursing

★ w.c -> 1,028

| xox, mei! ୨♡୧ -> woo my first post yay!! anyways requests are open for johnathon ohnn, miguel o'hara, and hobie brown if y'all are interested <3 my masterlist n rules are still a wip so stay tuned for that!

both men love their work but it still stresses the hell out of them. they’d enter and leave work exhausted. but then you started working at alchemax. you - with your bright smile and glittering eyes. most of the scientists and associates were drawn to you, but miguel and johnathon were on a whole nother level.

johnathon definitely fell first. it was daunting when someone he found attractive was being so sweet to him. jonathon’s usually too stuck in his own little world to care about such frivolities, so you were something special.  

★ he’s been late so many times because he’d chat with you for too long at your desk. at first he stumbled on his words with you, struggling to maintain eye contact while simultaneously trying not to stare too hard. now you’re one of the few people he feels comforting rambling to, because he knows you’re listening ★ johnathon loves it when you’d call him “doctor,” despite him insisting on his first name. sensing that air of respect from you makes him feel good about himself. ★ he takes great pride in making you laugh and smile with every chance he gets. this physicist has a vast arsenal of cheesy jokes, bad puns, and cute pick-up lines.  ★ he visits you throughout the day whenever he can, and tries to muster up the courage to have lunch with you. you’re young and gorgeous and out of his league but he’d be damned if he didn’t try. and then miguel o'hara came back from his business trip.

miguel didn’t care for the last receptionist. she was rude and lazy and got his name wrong. so it was a pleasant surprise when he was greeted by you instead. 

★ at first, your peppiness was too much for him, especially in the morning. he’d brush off your attempts at conversation and only mumble back to you when needed. such is the way of the resident grump at alchemax. but eventually, you wormed your way into his heart by remembering how he likes his coffee and staying up to help him on late nights in the lab. ★ miguel had to admit, you were a joy to have around. …and very very nice to look at. miguel's had a few serious relationships in the past, but they never ended well. since then he’s only indulged in one-night stands and temporary hook-ups. but he refused to look at you so fleetingly.  ★ miguel started bringing you expensive bouquets of flowers for your desk, along with sweet little notes. he’s obsessed with the scent of your vanilla perfume. he wants to be your hero, there to open every door, pull out every chair, and drive away any creep. for him, creeps include johnathon.

johnathon wasn’t concerned when he’d see other scientists and workers flirt with you. he wholeheartedly believed you two had a special connection that couldn’t be replicated. but seeing miguel turn you into a blushing stuttering mess proved him wrong. there was competition closer than he thought, and if he didn’t act quickly, he’d lose you for good.

★ johnathon felt deeply insecure in comparison to miguel. dr. o’hara’s movie star face & dreamy hair made him feel like crap.  ★ miguel clearly had way more experience in dating, always flirting with you so smoothly. johnathon on the other hand, is pretty sure he’s stuck in the friendzone with you. so he decided to experiment with bolder methods of winning your heart. ★ jonathon’s been more direct, showering you with compliments and buying you lunch whenever he could. he made it abundantly clear that he was single and that he liked you very much. you were his favorite person at alchemax, and for good reason.

miguel honestly thinks johnathon’s annoying as fuck. once john accidentally spilled hot coffee onto miguel on a very bad day, and he’s been bitter ever since. in the past johnathon would be friendly, but miguel would brush him off. who the hell is this lanky ass nerd and why is he hovering over him in HIS lab? 

★ now he’s wondering why the geek is messing with his love now. it pisses him off, not just because johnathon knows he feels the same about you, but how john makes you happier than he’s ever seen you be. miguel’s flirty, and funny in his own, stubborn way, but he lacked johnathon’s endearing dorky nature that had you hooked. ★ miguel is soooo grumpy lmao ★ really johnny is such a silly sweet guy while miguel, mr. give everything 1000% over here is fighting for his life. it took miguel a whole ass week to come up with a joke as good as johnathon’s that made you laugh your ass off. my guy is trying waaay too hard.

at first, miguel confronts johnathon kindly. he’s sympathetic and straight to the point - they both hold the same intentions towards you, but only one of them can win. he can tell that johnathon’s a good guy, with a big heart, so he’d understand… right?

★ “i’m in love with them, dr. ohnn. this isn’t just a silly crush. so either help me, or please refrain from getting in my way.” ★ “no, i’m good.” ★ “...you’re WHAT?”

war!!!!! miguel is a bitch to johnathon. dr. octavius has to give johnathon advice on how to win you over and how to fend off miguel. he’s gotten a lot better at brushing off miguel’s judgemental comments and acting unbothered by them.

although it’s not like johnathon isn’t cunty either. when he makes you laugh sometimes it’s because he’s making fun of miguel behind his back. he has a killer miguel impression that puts the original to shame.

★ “ugh, my shoulders are too broad and muscular. it’s so hard being so fit.” ★ “johnny!! he’s coming this way!” ★ “i work out every single part of my body at the gym. i do forehead pushups to keep my hairline in check.” ★ “JOHNNY-”

as long as a certain collider project goes swimmingly, and a radioactive spider stays in it’s fucking lane,  you’ll end up with one of them.

…unless…? ;)

[mapofyourstars]

Recently, one of my gifsets involving Erik reached various sides of tumblr, and rightfully so because of how what he said relates to what's happening in the world right now (looking at you, America). I'd like to share with you some tags on the post because I truly have seen them all, and I'd also like to have a little bit of a discussion behind supporting a character while acknowledging the nuance behind his character. If you wanna talk about any of this with me, my asks are always, always open.

I'm going to start with the supportive tags that's made me laugh.

Now, onto the supportive tags that were a bit more sobering but good to see, nonetheless.

Next type of comment/tag I'd like to discuss are ones like this:

I feel like anyone who recognized the movie in the gifset and also recognized Magneto know that he was/is a Holocaust survivor - it's the biggest part of his characterization, and the films especially do not let you forget that. So comments like these just seem to be missing the mark - the gifset/scene doesn't make any sense unless you know his story, so clearly the 15k people interacting with the post have not forgotten. In fact, I'd say it's a common fact that makes the post even more painful, hence people's guttural reactions to it. And I've seen some comments like these:

I can assure you: There are many, many, many people that state "Magneto was right". And again, 15k people at least interacted with the post to show that, yes, they too believe Magneto is right. Just an odd thing to say.

But primarily, the whole point of me rambling here is draw attention to a smaller group of people who have commented/tagged their opinions. I'll share them below, and then, I'll talk a bit. Some of this conversation might be triggering, as it talks about Erik's character flaws and brings up zionism; so if this isn't your flavor of discussion, I'd part from this post.

These statements are permitted to be correct. In fact, you'll probably find many, many people who believe these statements to be true. I can firmly say that I hated when Erik abandoned Mystique, and the discussion of creating a mutant state sometimes can go the wrong way and sound exactly like what Israel did.

However.

When comments like the above are stated, it feels as if people are not seeing the forest among the trees - there is a bigger picture here. Erik is a character. He has a rich backstory and a very complicated characterization that stretches years back, post WWII. This character has flaws and has undoubtedly done many things that many people will never agree with. That does not - and should not - undermine the importance of his words. You are permitted to like a character, hate what they do from time to time, and also agree wholeheartedly with various things they say. The quote in this gifset is more powerful than Erik's characterization and much more powerful than anything he's ever done. Erik was just the mouthpiece for that quote - there have iterations after iterations of other characters or other people saying quotes exactly like that. Just because his actions may be morally incorrect, that does not make his words less valuable.

There needs to nuance when digesting media and art, and you can both hate the character but also agree with what he says. Especially when the words transcend the character. This is how we think about media from a critical standpoint and resolve some dissonance that we may face from supporting a character who may be all the things listed above while still stating that he is right - right because of the words he stated at a time in a film that exists as an allegory for every political, social, economic, etc. struggle.

I'll let the last round of comments/tags speak for me because these people understand what I discussed above.

You are permitted to say "Magneto is right" and understand the value in that phrase as it relates to past, present, or future issues while simultaneously not agreeing with everything he did. That doesn't undermine the fact that his words are accurate, relatable, transcending, etc.

Lastly, I'll leave you with these comments/tags as thought-provoking bits:

If you've made it this far and you've read everything, I love you. If you want to continue this discussion and talk about Erik or media consumption or nuance or any of the other things I mentioned - or you just wanna yap about anything really without getting too heated - I'd love to talk. The gifset all this came from has really opened my eyes to fandom discourse and media consumption, and it turns out I have a lot to say. And also, feel free to tell me that I'm wrong, that my discussion regarding the different types of comments/tags is shit. As long as you're willing to have an open and understanding conversation, I'll gladly talk about it.

[theshiftanlibrary]

I'm not sure if you're ask are open are not but can you do ruggie,epel,and Floyd with a Shy s/o who's love language is act of service and physical touch?

I hope this is okay. I took a long time with this, mostly because i lost motivation and inspiration half way. Don't ask me why Floyd's is longer... I don't know either. Also I apologise for the style change, like I said, I spent moths on this... Also, I'm working on a request page, but keep the asks coming!

·˚ ◌༘₊· ͟͞꒰➳ | My little love...

SYNOPSIS: Your shyness doesn't affect you love for these boys...

CHARACTERS: Ruggie Bucchi; Epel Felmier; Floyd Leech

TAGS: Fluff; Gender Neutral Reader; Establised Relationships

: ̗̀➛ Ruggie Bucchi

   “Aw, baby! Ya didn’t have to do this!”

His tail swayed with anticipation and joy as he watched you picking up bits of Leona’s clothes. He was tasked with cleaning the lion’s room after he came back from work and complained to you about it during his break. He hadn’t expected you to actually do it for him!

If you told him that this shy little human would be so steadfast in their love for him, he’d laugh at you. Snickers and all. But through the months of dating you, he found out just how much your love languages differ from your personality.

Hugs, kisses, and hand holding had been his favourite of all though, even if he had to initiate it first. He’d see you in the hallways and barrel towards you after he sees your face light up. Even though you were hesitant with receiving it in the beginning, you would always reciprocate it. He rather enjoyed his discovery of your love language of physical touch.

It was a particularly stressful day for the hyena, so he went to Ramshackle to beg for love to his favourite person. You took him in without him even needing to say anything or pull any self-pitying faces. You cradled his face so carefully, as if he had been made of the finest china and took him to cuddle on the couch. No, he didn’t enjoy the head scritches, Leona! He’s better than that.

: ̗̀➛ Epel Felmier

   “That damn Vil! His no good, egg-layin’ opinions—”

And so, he went off in your arms as you cradled him like a bab—I mean. A seasoned man. Your hands curled through his hair, undoing Vil’s work as Epel dug himself deeper into your collarbone. Just… don’t mention it to anyone. Especially Ace and Deuce, lest they have a poisoned apple at their doorstep yelling profanities.

For the longest time, both of you danced around each other in an awkward shuffle they called love. He confessed first while you initiated things first, even with your shyness. But that would soon change as he saw how affectionate you were with him.

It started with simple touches and hugs. It went up to you helping him de-stress in the bath with you in Ramshackle. He took the many products Vil demanded gave him to use, to you. Only because you muttered something about wanting to look and feel prettier. At least that was what his mind told him.

He let you lead him to the bathroom, a nice warm bath steaming the room in an almost alluring atmosphere. That wasn’t the night for that though. Both of you sunk into the water, simultaneous sighs escaping you as the warmth seeped into your sore muscles. Epel melted into your touch as you turned him around and washed his hair, his back against your chest. You prepared it just right, a mix of lavender and rose, Vil would be proud. Almost.

: ̗̀➛ Floyd Leech

   “And then Azul yelled at me! I mean what does he want from me —”

The moody eel went on, complaining about his day as you prepared dinner, his form draping over you. You turned to give him a kiss on his cheek, a gesture you hoped to calm him down. It did the opposite. He picked you up and carried you off, the food left behind as you scold him to put you down.

Some people wouldn’t consider Floyd’s… affection as that. He threatens anyone that steps on his buttons the wrong way with a squeeze. A sentence you might have misunderstood. One you took him up on despite your shy nature.

Your shy touches and hugs was met with an overenthusiastic puppy eel. He overwhelmed you with kisses and squeezes. When he sees you, you can guarantee he will pick you up twirl you around.

A gut feeling told you that you were needed at Mostro Lounge, something to do with a certain eel. In the motions, you prepared a bento for him, knowing it will lift a bad mood from the stubborn eel.

The dim lighting of the restaurant accentuated Floyd’s slumped posture, taking up an entire bench as his face remained in a pout. You made your way to him with a smile, carrying the bento in your hands. His eyes darted up, the darkness clouding them soon lifting as he sees what you have.

“Shrimpy! For me?”

A/N: I literally finished this today, as I'm posting this. So have it. Also, please check out my pinned post, I kind of have a financial emergency... I'm willing to compensate the people who donate! It's all in my pinned post under "I Have An Emergency".

[isa-ghost]

Phil and bagi hcs?

YOU HAVE JUST ENABLED A MONSTER.

I AM SO ABNORMAL ABOUT THESE TWO.

Also these will apply to AMFMN!! Because SURPRISE, if no one has checked the fic tags, her name is listed as a main character. ;) She'll be arriving in Chapter 6!! :D

I cannot fucking WAIT to expand upon their dynamic, which is funny because by the time Bagi shows up, Phil is possessed so it won't be exploration through direct interactions until the recovery period waaay later in the fic. Nonetheless it'll be hype! :D

qPhil headcanons masterlist

Phil is a member of the "Bagi can do whatever she wants forever" club. He supports her rights and wrongs and fully believes she could kick his ass no matter how unbalanced of a fight it'd be in his favor (disclaimer I don't actually know Bagi's exact pvp skill level 🤔)

Bagi is a member of the "God I want Phil to take me on a flight some day, I am so sad his wings are fucked up" club. (She would probably be terrified /pos)

I don't know what it is about their friendship but I feel like Bagi is so much more attuned to the way Phil thinks than the average islander. I guess I'd say it's because of how perceptive she is in general, especially with how she's a detective? Whatever it is, Bagi just has this talent for reading Phil like a damn book. And she won't hesitate to call him on his bullshit either. She's much like Fit in that regard. Crow man can't hide SHIT

Like fr if Phil ever gave Bagi reason to be concerned the first thing she'd do is start cornering those closest to him and either ask what's up or be like "hey Phil's on some shit rn, we gotta go force him to confess whatever stupid shit he's shouldering on his own and bottling up"

Phil has definitely been whacked with the frying pan for not venting and acting like he has to brave the horrors alone btw. Bagi's the type of friend that'll kick your fucking ass if you're not self-caring or being mean to yourself. (I am projecting LMAO)

Bagi isn't as Holy Shit We Could Die Any Second about things as Phil, but they're both very protective people, which can manifest in very volatile ways when they're hurt or angered by something (ie: Feds). I would not want to experience their individual wraths simultaneously.

Bagi is one of the top people Phil shows his gift giving love language to. Be it resources she needs, pictures he's taken of her/Em/Tina or of weird island shit, the means to complete cookie tasks, etc. She's one of the first in mind.

GOD Phil wants her to teach him how to wield a frying pan so badly. He's an excellent swordsman and bowman, but PAN?? The enjoyment he'd get out of it would be infinite, he'd love to be kicking ass while getting a laugh out of it bc pan go BONG when it hits a motherfucker.

If one needs something the other says yes no hesitation. They might ask each other a couple questions, but as soon as they have 100% clarity, they trust each other with the rest and know that if something goes wrong, whoever is present at the time will unleash hell on the person or monster that caused it.

I've somewhat already hinted at it but GOD the mutual admiration they have for each other!! Their wits and way with words, their natural sense of leadership, their determination to defend what they believe in, what they think is right, and the people they love, their specific expertise, the list goes on. They just think the other is so fucking cool and brilliant.

Tbh I think in the right circumstances they'd teach each other some lowkey fucked up tricks they have up their sleeves. Like Bagi giving Phil insight on manipulating people into giving the answers you're looking for by asking the right carefully worded questions, or Phil teaching Bagi the best spots to hit/hurt a person/mob to really do some damage just purely as a "hey if you ever find yourself in a Situation, here's a tip" thing

I don't know how better to show this without explicitly saying it: These two are not the other's fucking caretaker. Phil is not Bagi's father figure and Bagi is not Phil's mother figure. Yes, they can scold each other when the other is doing something dumb (cough, 7 hcs ago, cough). Friends do that. They support each other and call each other on their bs. That is not parenting, that's being a good friend. And they are to each other.

On that note, it hasn't come up too much yet but when shit sucks (like when the eggs were lost or lost lives), they're good at distracting each other. But like without halting the process of dealing with their emotions. If they're sad, they'll be sad together, but they're good at picking the right conversation topics to lighten the mood. If they're mad, they'll be mad together, and they'll plan what to do about it with each other.

I think I've sorta demonstrated it well enough in a couple of these hcs already but AUGH, they're just. So on the same page with each other almost all the time. And when they aren't, they're so good at giving each other perspectives they didn't think of before. Which, I don't mean to compare Bagi to her brother here, but is also how Phil and Cellbit can be with each other too; though they've somewhat fallen out of that sync post-Purgatory. The way the Mystery Siblings are so on the same wavelength as Phil makes me so *slams fist on desk*

Phil is normally a very Just Vibin' kinda guy but Bagi can get him into some really deep intellectual conversations sometimes and it's so 🍿🍿🍿 to watch

[phantom-of-the-501st]

Audience Comprehension of Grey Areas within Conflict in Media

I haven't written an analysis piece in a while, and while I don't necessarily have any thoughts on specific episodes, or a singular show atm, there's something that I've been thinking about recently that I feel like talking about.

In recent years, I've seen subsets of fandoms becoming less and less understanding of the idea of a "grey area" when it comes to fiction, believing that every situation has a right and wrong side, and that there is no way for two feuding characters to both be the logical party in a conflict. Semi-recently I've seen this in two fandoms that I participate in: The Bad Batch (Hunter vs Crosshair) and Good Omens (Crowley vs Aziraphale). Now I've gone into detail about both of these before, so I'm going to try and trim those discussions down for this post, but it's a similar problem in both fandoms and I feel like looking into it a bit.

Tags for @saturn-sends-hugs @inkstainedhandswithrings @eriexplosion and @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius in case anyone feels like pitching in

Hunter vs Crosshair

Now the relationship between Hunter and Crosshair was... complicated to say the least. There were so many factors that influenced their actions and decisions, which put both of them in a position of being right and wrong simultaneously. And yet despite them both being at fault, there was an ongoing war within the fandom about who was supporting the right side; were you Team Hunter or Team Crosshair? According to some, you couldn't be both because there was no way both of them could be right, could there?

Team Hunter always seemed to be the popular option, as he was considered the morally superior of the two. However, that doesn't mean that he was without faults. In fact, he was greatly flawed: so focused on his own belief of what was the right choice that he struggled to consider others ideas, reckless and impulsive, stubborn. He was far from perfect. But let's be real, nobody is. And yet, despite all of his flaws, Hunter was considered by many to be a character who could do no wrong, and therefore was the obvious man to support in this ongoing conflict.

So what about Crosshair? Well he was brash, cold, a downright arsehole at points, and chose to stay on the side of the Empire. Surely he couldn't be considered the one in the right here? Well, it's not that simple and it never was.

It all boils down to that moment when The Batch left Crosshair on Kamino at the beginning of S1. Hunter and The Batch didn't have much choice. Their own brother was shooting at them, their lives were at risk, and had they stayed there, they likely would have died or been captured. They couldn't have taken Cross with them because they could not guarantee their own safety. As much as he was their brother, he was a threat to them. But we also have to consider this from Crosshair's perspective. Yes, he was trying to capture his own squad, but he'd been mentally manipulated and was in no position to make rational decisions. He was under the Empire's control. And yet, despite being in danger himself, and needing the help of his brothers, he was left behind. It was understandable that he lost faith in them. But neither side is entirely at fault here. They made the best decision they could in that situation, and no the decisions weren't perfect, but when are they ever?

Let's look at the other crucial moment that always gets brought up in this conversation: Crosshair being left on the Kamino landing platform at the end of S1. I've seen many coming to Crosshair's defence here, saying that the squad had no right to leave their brother there. But let's be honest, it could've been so much worse had they taken him. Yes, Crosshair spent over 30 rotations on that platform, but The Batch didn't know that was going to happen. And Crosshair was refusing to come with them. Had they forced him along, that would've done more damage than good; Crosshair was vulnerable, scared of losing his autonomy. Having his brothers force him onto a ship against his will was going to make him more argumentative and stressed. The best thing the Batch could've done in that situation was respect their brother's choice, which they did.

Throughout the entire conflict in this show, both Hunter and Crosshair were right and wrong. It was never as simple as one side being the "good" side, and the other not, their actions were both fair and unfair. No-one could make perfect choices because no situation could allow that. And yet, there was this general understanding across a section of the fandom that a person's entire moral compass could be determined by which side of the argument they fell on, and that there was no way to accommodate both sides at the same time.

Crowley vs Aziraphale

Which brings me onto conflict number 2: the Ineffable Husbands. The ending of S2 was heartbreaking to say the least, and while it was surprising in the moment, in retrospect, it was completely inevitable. And while I remember just how depressed we were after that ending, I also remember just how angry the fandom got with Aziraphale. Our poor angel took the brunt of the hate and was considered by many people to have been the one in the wrong. But Zira wasn't the only perpetrator of that mess. Both of them were to blame, and the storm that hit was always going to come in at some point.

The ending argument parallels a spat that the two had at the beginning of the season, when Crowley and Aziraphale were trying to decide what to do about Gabriel. Aziraphale supported the "fix the problem" approach, suggesting that they should help the Archangel, while Crowley went for the "ditch the problem" approach, claiming they should just dump him in Dartmoor. And while they were both trying to achieve the same thing (eliminate the Gabriel issue), they had both A) came up with different plans and B) assumed that the other would have come up with the same idea as them. They thought their "exactlys" were the same, until Crowley points out the flaw: "I feel like your exactly and my exactly are different exactlys".

And this is how we ended up with the ending of GO S2. Aziraphale wanted to fix the system: he recognised the flaws, and as someone who had dedicated his entire existence to being a good ambassador for Heaven, had viewed it as the only logical solution. It's the exact response you'd expect from someone still trapped in a toxic religious group, a belief that the flaws in your faith can be rectified, no matter what. He made the choice you'd expect him to but where he stumbled was in expecting Crowley, who he knew had been through a great deal of trauma as a result of what Heaven did, to make the same choice as him. He knew how hurt Crowley had been, so it wasn't fair to expect that he would make the same choice.

And yet the same could be said for Crowley. Given Crowley's trauma, ditching Heaven is a perfectly reasonable solution for him. He knows how twisted their morals are, and understands that realistically, no matter he does, there will always be someone higher up the chain who would thwart any attempts to fix the institutional issues. It was perfectly demonstrated by Gabriel being punished for trying to prevent Armageddon. However, Crowley never told Aziraphale about how Gabriel was exiled from Heaven, so it's entirely unfair for him to expect Zira to make the same choice, when he purposefully withheld information from him.

Just like at the beginning of Season 2, they had both had the same end goal in mind, but their approaches differed and they assumed that the other would make the same decision as then. That was their downfall. So yes, as an audience member, you can have your own opinions on which choice you think is better, but it isn't simply as black and white as one being right and one being wrong. They can both be at fault.

Why do I think it's like this?

Ultimately, I think audience reactions to conflicts like this boil down to three things: availability of information to the audience, escapism, and our own battle with morality.

As an audience member, we will always have different information to the characters themselves. When it came to Hunter and Crosshair, we knew what was happening to both characters, so we couldn't understand why characters were making certain decisions, but it's important to remember that we have more information, so of course our own choices would be different. We have context. The same with Good Omens. Like I said, we know what happened to Gabriel, as does Crowley, but Aziraphale doesn't. So while we can back up Crowley's decision, we can't necessarily fault Zira when he doesn't know what we do.

Additionally, as viewers, we seek escapism. The world is a mess and conflicts have so many layers that sometimes a clear answer isn't always easily found. So when we turn to media, we hope for something clearer, something that will tell us exactly what is right and wrong. Things being so morally grey feels to real for us, so we fight to find the good and bad; we want answers so we build up black and white decisions, even if that isn't how things are actually playing out.

Not only this, but I think our own fight for moral superiority influences our consumption of media. We always want to be the "good" person, so we fight to be on the right side. We don't like being wrong and we judge people's morality by whether or not they agree with us because we don't like the idea of siding with a character that isn't entirely good. But life isn't like that. People aren't like that. We're flawed, we make bad decisions, and there is never a perfect answer to the decisions we make. Yes, some choices will always be better than others, but sometimes things are so grey and murky that we can find support and fault in both sides. However, people don't like that. They want to be right, to be good, so they find what they align with most and claim that as the "correct" side, attacking those that disagree because if they don't side with you, then they must be morally inferior. And in all honestly, I think this has just gotten worse over time.

At the end of the day, not everything is black and white, and your understanding of flaws in a character does not mean that you agree with or support them. It can simply be a case of recognition. Things aren't as clear cut as we would like them to be, they are more complicated, and the sooner we understand that, the sooner we can appreciate just how rich some of these stories and characters can be.

[blubushie]

https://www.tumblr.com/blubushie/761610902932979712/idk-if-this-is-just-my-experience-but-i-noticed?source=share

my two cents on the "problematic" content thing is that tf2 is one of those media where you can lean into both feel good shit and darker topics simultaneously.

a recipe for a good tf2 fic is over the top gore and ridoculously stupid humourous scenes.

but also, If you're upset about people posting blood and a lil' guts, you picked the wrong fandom. that said, writers should of course use their best judgement and tag things appropriately. yk if someone comes in complaining about blood, there's a notice that says "you might see some shit"

and I don't play anti/pro ship games because the definitions of such things are fucking convoluted and meant to incite riots at this point, I do believe... I guess it sounds ridiculous to say it but I have seen people complain about "the mercenaries would never..." in the past. and it's always left me scratching my head.

and like this is tf2 we are talking about, people are going to die, horribly, which includes our main protagonists. there will be violence, fire, and swearing.

but also, If you're upset about people posting blood and a lil' guts, you picked the wrong fandom.

There's a reason I don't tag for blood on this blog and that's why lmao. I'll tag for gore gore (it's #haemocyanin btw—think viscera and guts and body horror) but I won't tag for blood.

I have seen people complain about "the mercenaries would never..." in the past. and it's always left me scratching my head.

This as well. IIRC at one point someone (either Hale, the Admin, or Miss Pauling, can't recall who) outright states that a few of the mercs are sex offenders. And this can be anything from "got slapped with an indecent exposure charge for pissing in public on a wall while drunk and had to register" to "outright assaulted someone" and we don't know what it is or who it is. And I'd personally rather my mercs not be violent sex offenders, but we also don't know, and I'm not gonna shit on someone or harrass them for exploring that bit of lore and what the circumstances might've been behind it.

It's very ironic to me that the "oh we're all freaks" website draws their line at, like... petplay or something and you can't go any freak beyond that. Now, it can certainly be argued that certain acts aren't in character for certain characters, but people as a whole are also highly nuanced. Someone can frequent a prostitue and then go home to their happy wife and happy little family. An alcoholic sociopath with anger issues can hold down a stable job and be a good friend and a good person—is that also out of character? People are confusing, extremely self-contradicting creatures, and it's fun to get into their heads. We've all got skeletons in our closet. We've all got something problematic about us, or our pasts. No one's hands are really clean—there's always dirt somewhere, it's just a matter of finding it. Stones in glass houses. I think harrassing someone for the fiction they create is bullshit, personally, even if I do find it morally reprehensible and disgusting in my own eyes. Depiction doesn't equal endorsement.

And people are allowed to not want to interact with people who depict or engage with certain things! God knows I have a few of my own that I wouldn't want to interact with. I just don't reckon nobody should be harrassed for it. I don't reckon real people should be harmed over fiction. I can recall a few groups to recent memory who ordered certain works destroyed, who demanded certain things not be talked about or written about or art done of them, and none of them were the good guys.

[freyjas-musings]

I think its come to a point where I have to clarify a few things.

To start with , to everyone who reached out , thank you I am doing ok, I am just busy, I have a lot of work related travel in the next two weeks and I am preparing for my deadlines and dealing with real life . I promise I am fine.

As far as people who have doxxed me and have put my username on display subjecting me to bullying and harassment, the irony of the entire thing is not lost to me .

The fact that Elriels accused me of threatening to subject someone to harassment, when I specifically did not mention any username or individual .... while simultaneously displaying my username not only on several public FB groups which I have SS of, but also in several posts on both Tumblr and Twitter is baffling . Don't they see that they literally did what they accused me of "wanting" to do?

Who is the only one who is being subject to harassment and bullying ? Me and somehow I am the person who is in the wrong here ?

Now , coming to the part of character assassination, this isn't about fictional characters or books anymore , these people have written horrible things about me as a person ... twisted something I said on a post which most certainly wasn't said in a serious manner its dumb to think it was ( How would someone force someone to write an English exam ? The entire thing was exaggerated and ridiculous) and have called me different things varying from a Psychotic bitch to a creepy person aka defamation thereby posing a threat to my emotional and mental well-being.

I have been in this fandom long enough and I have interacted with enough people that it should atleast give most people that I have interacted with a general idea of what I really am like.

I have mostly kept well away from Elriels , I don't engage with them in any manner if I can avoid it and I have gone ahead and blocked as many of them and their tags. So , I clearly have no intention of interacting with them irrespective of whether they are decent people or not , I simply don't see the necessity and its not my preference. This is the reason most of my interactions usually revolve around Gwynriels and they are the only ones I usually address even in my posts.

I am a part of this fandom for myself and I commission art because I like the creative aspect of it and I love interacting and supporting artists. This much everybody knows about me.

The locus of my identity is internal to me and my circle of validation is a total sum of 2 people - My husband and my child.

So for anyone who thinks they can bully me into going away from the fandom by twisting things and saying mean things about me... you are really wrong.

I honestly wasn't feeling right about BB milking the ship war and preying on vulnerable people while also not lending their support to artists who are integral to the fandom... which is why , I literally stated 2 days back that I would be stepping back from the SJM fandom till we have news on the next book.

But .....

If this is the sort of shit people try to pull with me then it's not about BB anymore, My priority now is bullies in the fandom. My priority is people who thought they could manipulate my people against me.....

I HAVE A FEW WEEKS OF WORK THAT NEEDS MY FOCUS BUT COME APRIL 21ST .... I AM COMING BACK ... WITH MORE CONTENT , MORE COLLABS , MORE GWYNRIEL INITIATIVES AND BETTER STRATEGIES AND YES I WILL BE BOOSTING SEVERAL GWYNRIEL ART PIECES ....CRY ME A RIVER

This is to Gywnriels, I will totally respect it if you guys would like to unfollow me based on the propaganda that's been in action by the Elriels. But seeing I have gained 15 followers in the last 2 days I am going to assume you guys truly understand what I am as a person and for that I am thankful and incredibly grateful 🙏. If you guys see posts of people displaying my username please report both the post and the blogger.

Now , I would like to go back to work because irrespective of who Azriel gets to fuck in the next book ... my work is what is important... its what feeds me and pays my bills.

[rhiannons-bird]

okay so I‘M FINALLY READING SWORD CATCHER AND I HAVE THOUGHTS

I‘m only about halfway through but I need to rant

- it‘s incredible how well cassie manages to lend a unique voice to each of her characters every single time. she just doesn’t miss does she?

- lin caster is the awesomest girl. i just love her because she reminds me of other cc girls in the way that she is kind of a very typical heroine on the surface but you can actually feel her emotions and she’s very believable & flawed & human and you just can’t help rooting for her + i love her friendship with mariam

- everyone is bisexual & it’s completely normalised i love it here

- lin & conor??? apparently they are the flagship which I know because I took a peek at the tag after they had two scenes together because the ENERGY OMG

- ahh yes, conor 😌 another pretty man with issues who’s in a lot of trouble and likes to cover it up with sarcasm, pompous behaviour, fancy clothes & vanity- you just can’t help but love it

- but also he‘s the biggest prick and i want him to have some sense beat into him by everyone around him

- like he qualifies for a huge growth arc but it could also go downhill and turn into sth ugly

- anyone had a weird sense of déjà vu about him and lin after that one little excerpt about adessa and suleman? like, she’s an ashkar with probably immense magical potential let’s be real i see where this is going and he‘s a prince (future king) with marivent blood 🤔🤔🤔

- conor‘s frat boy posse make my blood boil- especially with the way they talked about antonetta in that one scene 🤢🤮

- falconet is the nicest one by far but he‘s sus as hell i know he’s up to sth 🤨 but i rly wanna like him 😭

- the ragpicker king is just a cool dude who dresses emo and has people murdered on the regular i guess i love him. he’s hot. - kaz energy but also very different at the same time. can‘t wait to see more of him. and there’s def more to him.

- also no, andreyen, i don‘t understand either what people mean about ji-an having an off putting manner i‘m pretty convinced she‘s never done anything wrong in her entire life 💗except for the murder what murder

- kel can only be described as a calmly unhinged cinnamon roll. he reminds me a little of james (especially with his „mask“) but if you orphaned him & janked up the loyalty & sluttiness by a hundred

- like fr he is so confused just running around threatening and/or kissing people wtf 😭✋🏼 he just has chemistry with everyone he interacts with lol

- kel & conor remind me of matthew & james but if there was a big power imbalance and a everything is a little more fucked up 🙃

- generally the way power & power dynamics are portrayed and handled is very interesting i like it

- antonetta has my entire heart ❤️

- I need more of her but as an individual not just through kel‘s pov, so far i’m not very big on whatever is being hinted at with her and kel

- I adore merren just like everyone else, he‘s kind of giving a weird mix of christopher/matthew/wylan and I‘m here for it. plus: autism coded character yeass

- also nice to see some jewish rep. (i did not know cassie was jewish before lol) the ashkar are really interesting (& as far as their treatment by the rest of the world goes at times infuriating😤) to read about and add a lot of depth to the world building.

- i love how we see the complexities of their culture portrayed through lin who on the one hand is deeply ingrained in it and holds/has received a lot of love & care for/from her own people while also having been wronged & ostracised by them and how both can be true simultaneously

- as someone who‘s very familiar with multiple romance languages the languages in this book are incredibly entertaining to me

- SO MANY SECRETS & political intrigue hehehe rubbing my little hands together can’t wait for all this to escalate (because it most certainly will) 😈

bottom line

I’m really glad i finally started reading this.

it took me a while to get into it & I’m still holding out on a final judgement since it seems very slow but i’m a patient reader and i appreciate a good setup.

also I want a creepy black crocodile pool in my house now.

[gingergofastboatsmojito]

Is Sydney the goodbye girl?

Excerpt taken from the transcript of 02x03

Suggestion: Don't go and study the soundtrack of the whole series after watching all 3 seasons because you may find bitter surprises, it's not all under-the-table material, there are songs that insinuate a much more realistic way to go about the Sydcarmy endgame we all want. YK how real life can be "complicated", right?

In Sundae 2x3 for instance, we were introduced to the concept of Sydney being the "Goodbye girl". Carmy marrying someone else or choosing another relationship over his relationship with Syd and then regretting it. Looking around to find her and she is gone: "Goodbye girl". That was the ep where he stood her up at Kasama to go help C move boxes. If that is some sort of foreshadowing of the Lalaland ending I fear so much, I will sue.

I have been mentioning and bitching about MY BIGGEST FEAR in regards to the potential Lalaland kind of ending of the series for a while now:

My Sydcarmy dream ending or Storer's?

The Storer of Storer & I

I have good days and bad days, today is a bad day because I was listening to Goodbye Girl and connecting these dots like this. I couldn't help it.

That song may also be a foreshadowing of the right person at the wrong time, which again, points to Lalaland with a twist, which like I said, would be realistic AF, sure! But also, unfair and borderline cynical, seeing as this could very well mean that Carmy and C will maybe give their relationship another go (this I expect for S4 with or without the Lalalaland ending as we speak, although my ideal is that it's nothing but a short-lived fiasco so Carmy can move onto opening up about his real feelings for Syd), whilst Syd tries to spice things up with Luca, most likely and then at the end of the series, when there's no more screentime left for the Sydcarmy endgame we deserve, their timing will finally be right for Sydcarmy to reunite and be together. We won't get to see and actually enjoy them being together and happy etc, maybe if there's a time jump we will be given 1 scene as a sample and that's it, it will be mostly implicit, not explicit.

Pathetic.

On the bright side, if that happens, since they will be trying to make it work with other partners simultaneously and trying to fool themselves into thinking they will succeed, or maybe even really succeed for a while, the yearning and the inappropriate jealousy from both, will be off the charts, which will be really fun to watch. But for my taste, not less pathetic, unless Sydcarmy, when it finally happens, because IT WILL, is given a decent amount of EXPLICIT SCREENTIME.

But maybe if we are given more time... This could work out.

Bonus track: S5 →The only potential airbag I can think of, if Syd is really the "Goodbye girl", is that the fifth season they are currently "in talks about", actually happens, which I reckon is unlikely. But if it does happen it will be the last one for sure. And at that point, we'll get THE REAL SYDCARMY EXPERIENCE throughout the whole S5, which may include a heartbreaking break-up and a beautiful reconciliation that will be synced up with the series finale #MANIFESTING!

Remember to follow my tag #Gingerpovs

[saurons-pr-department]

Hey anon, I have screen-shotted your ask because I am going to try stay out of tag/term searches here, which in an of itself probably answers your question XD

So! Thoughts as they occur to me!

I did give the whole first season a watch. Partly out of giving it a chance, partly out of morbid curiosity, like when you can't look away from something awful happening in front of you even when you really want to close your eyes.

What I think is interesting actually, is that my main issues with the show have somewhat changed since I initially watched it. While watching it my only thoughts were "wrong, wrong, that never happened, wrong, wrong, wrong, look how they massacred my boy (gn), wrong!" And while those thoughts themselves haven't changed my main issues have changed to focus more on how it's such a badly structured story (the timelines feel both stretched and compressed in a way that doesn't add anything to the stories being told) and how I don't think it knows yet what it wants to be (it's Tolkien, but it's its own thing, but it's a 'prequel' in the very modern franchise sense of the word to the PJ films, but it's also not those films).

For the structure, I personally wouldn't have put two major stories into one show. I don't think there's the time for that. Both the Akallabêth and the creation of the rings exist as very sketchy narratives that cover extremely long timeframes. Original content was always going to be needed to fill the gaps. But by putting both tales into the one show, I feel they've doubled the amount of gap filling needed while halving the amount of screentime they have for it because there's now twice the amount of canon to cover (tbf, they don't seem to want canon so maybe that's not an issue for them...). To force them to run simultanously and then add original content that isn't just filling the gaps but appears to be completely original, you end up with a story that is both too empty and too full. Nothing is getting the time it deserves. Big moments feel undeserved or rushed. It takes the wind out of its own sails. (and that's without mentioning that these stories running alongside eachother just throws timelines and motivations out of whack, but I refuse to get us all bogged down in the minutiae of my grumblings!)

It's a pity, the story of the fall of Númenor and the creation of the rings have such good parallels, but that would require them to focus on things like religion and politics etc and they seem to be more interested in mystery boxes, so... oh well?

In regards the show's identity crisis, to be fair to them, that's really not that unusual in first seasons. They're not special XD Let's face it, how often have we all been recommended something that came with the caveat 'you need to get through the first few episodes/first season before it gets good and finds its feet'? Especially fantasy and sci-fi that has to establish facts about the world as well as characters in a way a drama set in the real world doesn't. I wouldn't be shocked to learn that the show hits its stride a bit better in later seasons.

However, my current biggest gripe with the show is what I'm seeing in the writers' attitude to storytelling. I can't stand it. The actor for a certain someone whose name begins with H didn't know who his character really was until after shooting the first few episodes. There's the back and forth of is it H or the guy who fell from the sky who'll turn out to be the villain. Sky man even gets some stalkers whose only purpose was to add confusion to this situation and then be immediately killed, no further context. One of the writers (I don't remember who) when asked about deviations from canon said something to the effect of 'we don't want book fans to be episodes ahead'. It's the modern Marvel school of story-telling. It's mystery boxes and twists and fears of spoilers and people knowing what's coming next. That's not how you tell a story. You need more substance than that. Big moments are only interesting if you've earned them with a well crafted lead up. And what's the point of a big moment if it adds nothing to the story in the first place. They had one of fantasy's most iconic villains, why was there a secret? The Second Age is where he's cracking out his most rediculous long cons. The man's twirling his mustache while kicking up his feet and writing 'evil' into every date in his diary for at least a millenium, what does a secret identity add to this story really?

Don't worry, I will move swiftly on from the topic of my boy who is not really my boy before we get in too deep... No one needs to hear that... But do you get my point? Big reveal. No substance.

To add a note of positivity, I actually really like Sky man's music. It's genuinely a really nice piece of music. I also liked that they wanted to add one of the 'original' orcs, that's a cool concept!

Oh! And whoever okayed those American 'stage-Irish' accents needs to be fired into the sun :D

[micamicster]

Hi! Do you have any romcom (movie) recs? I feel like i hypothetically like the genre, but have a lot of trouble finding ones i enjoy. So many romcoms feel so formulaic (in a dead way) and misogynistic and stale to me. I think they’re a lot easier to do well in the context of a series because there’s actually time to build. Recently i thought rye lane and fire island were fun. I like kdramas when i have the time for all the episodes because i appreciate the build. I need chemistry— people who both convincingly like each other and seem like actual human beings. I thought you might have some good ideas! Thanks <3

HELLO LARGE VOICED ANON <3

I hope you weren't waiting on my recs all day haha i have been. hm. hungover af <3 (i'm going to leave kdramas off this list for now but if you would like specific recs for kdrama romcoms send me another ask and i can try to do them justice!)

I think this is a genre with underrated range! So one thing that I find very interesting about the genre of romcoms is that I think there tends to be a split between romcoms whose goal is, like, to be a fun lighthearted movie with a central romance, vs romcoms whose goal is to Say Something About Love in the vehicle of a funny movie. Both of these categories are represented on this list but for giggles i will not be saying which i think are which <3

anyway recs under the cut <3 i will link my tags for these movies if you want to take a look but be warned for spoilers ofc

I think for your purposes my primary rec would be Lovesick (aka Scrotal Recall). It's a (short) tv show so it would likely give you the chance to get to know the characters and see a slower build. In contrast to the frustration you've had with some more "formulaic" romcoms the writing in this show is very deliberately in conversation with romcoms of the past. Also it's just one of my favorite romcoms ever made so I rec it to everyone. The premise is that a young man, Dylan, is diagnosed with chlamydia and instructed to tell his past partners. Being a hopeless romantic (emphasis on hopeless), he decides to try to turn this into an opportunity to revisit relationships that didn't work out, and try to figure out where he's been going wrong. Two simultaneous storylines play out in each episode, the flashbacks to the exes (and breakups) and the present, where Dylan's best friend is getting married.

Older romcoms: When Harry Met Sally (ive heard this is divisive? but idc its SO funny and so well made), Moonstruck (a romantic-comedy in the operatic sense. also cher <3), The Philadelphia Story (katharine hepburn the woman u r. tw for a classic 1940s gag about punching ur wife in the face), Bringing Up Baby (screwball comedy my beloved), Roman Holiday (audrey hepburn is lethally charming in this movie), Dirty Dancing (someday ill write something this good and then You Will Realize), Much Ado About Nothing (i tend to enjoy either the danielle brooks shakespeare in the park version or the classic tennant/tate combo)

Teen romcoms: 10 things I hate about you (young heath ledger and young julia stiles ur welcome), to all the boys i;ve loved before (lana condor is ADORABLE), The Half of It (my other favorite sort-of romcom of the decade)

More recent-ish: Speed (like its keanu and sandra what more do you want), Strictly Ballroom (i used to watch this literally weekly as a child and I WAS RIGHT TO), Miss Congeniality (sandra bullock what u did for us all <3), Fire Island (thank u 4 my LYFE), The sandra bullock/channing tatum movie that came out last year (i forget what its called but he's so funny in it), Mamma Mia AND Mamma Mia Here We Go Again (beautiful greek islands, abba, cher, what more can you ask for?)

Indian/bollywood: Jab We Met (after dramatically quitting his job, Local Man somehow ends up escorting a woman he meets on the train while she attempts to elope with her boyfriend. aka classic screwball comedy heroine and Guy She Dragged Along For The Ride), khabie khushi khabi gham (multiple generations of romance and family drama featuring Kajol, the Most Beautiful Woman In the World), Band Baaja Baaraat (two wedding planners fall in love--great choice if you want to watch idiots ambushed by their feelings)

Other tv recs: Selfie (john cho and karen gillian in a show canceled far too soon)

[hebuiltfive]

Thundertober Day Six: Spiritual

This idea was playing around in my mind for a while. When Thundertober came along, I thought I'd slot it in here. It was originally inspired by the song Saturn by Sleeping At Last. If you want to experience absolute heartbreak, I suggest reading whilst listening to it.

Last thing to say is... sorry.

AO3 here

Days: One ~ Two ~ Three ~ Four ~ Five

Warnings for: Heavy mentions of grief and death. Gripped with grief, Alan has a visit from someone he least expects. Tagging: @thunder-tober @skymaiden32 @idontknowreallywhy (just going to put it out there that if you want to be tagged in any future Thundertober pieces, or future pieces in general, let me know and I'll tag you too!)

One year.

One year since he’d transferred to home schooling.

One year since the funeral.

One year of mourning and grieving and crying, and he still wasn’t over it, because to Alan that one year had only felt like one hour.

To Alan, it felt like he’d only just begun to grieve yet another one of his parents.

It hurt worse than last time, probably because he had a precious few more memories than he had with Mom. He hated it. He wanted to carve his heart from his chest, if only to stop the pain for just a moment. He was too young to have experienced this twice. Did he do something wrong in a past life, maybe, to get dealt this shitty hand?

The process of balancing grieving and living was new to him. He didn’t know how to do both simultaneously. Call him naive, but he truly did seem baffled when the world didn’t stop at the news of their father’s demise.

Nobody helped him. Of course, he knew they were all trying their best, but Alan had never felt more alone than in those first few months.

Scott had begun to bury himself in work, Virgil spent every waking hour either in his art studio or in the hangers, John had grown more reclusive, and Gordo had seemed to have lost that spark that usually made him the fun one to be around, even in times of crisis.

Now, one year later, there was a semblance of normality that was seeping back through, but it still felt like everyone else had found their feet much faster than Alan. He begun to feel like the world had moved on but he was still trapped in that horrible place he’d been since the news was first broken to him. He began to fear that he would stay trapped there forever, unable to move forward because how does one learn to live without either parent?

Clearly it was possible, given his brothers’s apparently seamless transitions to orphans, but Alan couldn’t understand how they’d done it, and he didn’t dare ask for help. He didn’t dare talk about any of it much at all actually. Any time Dad was mentioned, it felt like a shard of ice had pierced his heart.

It wasn’t uncommon for him to cry himself to sleep these days, and he was pretty certain he could count all the times he hadn’t done that on one hand. Like everything else in his life, Alan thought that this was it. Crying himself to sleep every night would be his new constant and, for a while, he found comfort in that. Besides, the crying felt like releasing the pressure from a pressure cooker. Perhaps crying would stop him from inevitably bursting?

But tonight, Alan didn’t feel like crying. Tonight, despite still feeling that pressure building, he couldn’t release it.

The lack of that embrace led him to panic.

Did that mean he was finally done grieving? He didn’t feel like he had.

Did that mean he was finally over Dad’s death? He couldn’t have been if he still felt lost.

He curled his legs up to his chest under his sheets, arms holding them there tightly as he willed himself to cry because he should be crying. It didn’t seem right that he wasn’t. Worse than that, it didn’t seem fair. Dad deserved more than just a few months of crying, didn’t he? He deserved decades of grieving because he was Dad. Alan couldn’t be over all of that yet!

The thought of it making him a bad person swarmed his mind. He became overwhelmed easily.

Maybe he didn’t care enough about Dad to continue grieving.

Maybe he didn’t love him enough.

Maybe he—

Alan’s bedroom door creaked open, light from the hallway beyond bleeding through. A figure stood in the doorway, shrouded in the shadows. At first, Alan thought that maybe it was Scott or John coming to check in on him. He blinked in an attempt to discern who it was.

The figure stepped into the room but didn’t close the door behind him. They paced over to Alan’s bed and sat themselves down on the edge.

“You need to stop beating yourself up, son.”

The tears still failed to run but Alan could feel a new sort of pressure building from his stomach. Relief, maybe? He wasn’t sure. He hadn’t experienced many instances of that feeling for a long, long time. Hope, perhaps?

Because sitting in front of him, on his bed, was Dad.

Alan felt frozen to the spot, wide eyes staring into the shadowy features of his father’s face. There wasn’t enough light to decipher details and it infuriated him.

“How—? You…”

He wanted to scream the house down that Dad was home! That he was still alive! That he was right there in front of him, but before Alan could bolt up out of his bed, Dad gently shook his head. He glanced over to the window where Alan’s alien themed curtains were still open to the night beyond. The starry sky had always offered him comfort.

Dad smiled. “It’s a clear night. Plenty of stars to be seen.” He turned his attention back to Alan. “Which one’s your favourite?”

“Canopus.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because it has a pretty name.” Alan half-lied.

Dad caught on immediately and let out a gentle laugh. “And?”

Alan fiddled with the stitching on his sheet. “And… because it doesn’t have to be the brightest star in the sky to still serve a purpose.”

The first time John had told Alan about Canopus, Alan had disregarded the star because it wasn’t as cool as Sirius. Then, after a few months, and a talk with Dad, Alan had changed his opinion.

Being the fifth child in a family of exceedingly talented children meant that Alan was never going to be the Sirius of the Tracy family, but that was okay because he could shine in different ways. He might not grow up to be the brightest of the bunch, but he would still have a place, a purpose, amongst his brothers that would be just as important.

Dad seemed to understand all of that without Alan having to even begin explaining what he meant.

And that’s when the realisation hit him.

“You’re not real, are you?”

Alan wasn’t sure when he’d drifted off to sleep, but this dream told him that he must have.

Because Dad wasn’t home.

He wasn’t alive.

He was merely a ghost, built off what little Alan could remember. Hence the shadowed face. Alan had already begun to forget the tiny details that made Dad Dad.

“Promise me something, son.” Dad caught one of his son’s fiddling hands in his and gently squeezed. “Promise me you’ll search the stars one day, Alan.”

The silence that held the room was unnatural. Even his breathing seemed to still.

“Promise me you’ll go out there and explore and navigate and be extraordinary. Promise me you’ll hold onto my legacy, maybe even surpass it, and go on to do beautiful things. The universe is yours, Alan. There’s not only a whole world to explore, but the great expanse of the cosmos. Promise me you won’t ever let any opportunity slip out of your reach.”

Alan couldn’t find the words. He was too busy trying to ignore the pressure that was still building and building within him. He still couldn’t place the feeling.

“And promise me that you’ll remember that I will always be with you. I will never leave you. I will always be in here.” Dad’s free hand lifted and planted itself over Alan’s heart.

He still couldn’t make out any details on Dad’s face, but Alan was sure he was smiling at him. He clung to that, as though it was the last time he’d ever see a glimpse of that smile because he knew that it was.

“Everyone else has moved on, Dad. They’ve all carried on with life and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to.”

“Grieving is hard, Alan. You’re doing a good job.”

“I don’t feel like I am.”

“Grieving is part of life, son. Our capability to feel grief can be exhausting and painful, but it’s also what makes us human. People grieve in different ways. Just because your brothers seem to have moved on, I can assure you that they haven’t. It isn’t something someone can just dismiss one day.”

The thought of his brothers still hurting when Alan had so easily assumed they had gone back to normal had him feeling guilty. He had been so wrapped up in his own panic that he would be forever grieving that he hadn’t even considered the idea of his brothers being in the same boat. 

“How do I… do it? How do they do it?”

“There’s no guidebook to grieving, son. You live and you learn.”

“I don’t know if I can live without both you and Mom.”

“You still have your brothers, Alan. Hold onto them. Hold onto all those you love. They’ll guide you through this, just as you’ll guide them.”

“I don’t think I can cry anymore.” Alan admitted, a little guiltily.

“You don’t have to cry to grieve. It’s okay not to cry, son. It doesn’t mean you don’t care.”

Alan stared at the shadowy figure that was sat on his bed. He focussed on the feeling of Dad holding his hand. He took a deep breath in, willing his voice not to break.

“I miss you, Dad.”

In the dream, Alan blinked.

In reality, he awoke.

The stars were still shining outside his open window and his bedroom door had been opened to allow a crack of light through, but that was where the similarities to the dream ended.

Alan rolled out of his bed and made his way to his window, staring up at the stars. The pressure that had been building in his dreams was still there, though Alan still couldn’t name the feeling. Perhaps it didn’t have a name. His gaze caught sight of Canopus and Alan’s lips twisted into a small smile.

“I promise I will search the stars, Dad.” He whispered to himself, palm rising to ghost where dream-Dad had placed his hand, where his real dad would forever remain; over his heart. “I promise I’ll search them until I find you again one day.”