#it normally does eventually for me in long term fixations

[elisedonut]

I've been out all day with my mom and i pretty much spent the whole time we were in stores on a Spiderman/Ironman hunt

just pointing at everything with one of them on it and saying with dumbest voice "spiderman~" "Ironman~"

I'm lucky my mom is so used to my bullshit

she sat through like two hours of Starker edits and clip compilations once we made it back to her house too

it's fun being into a pairing that has enough to work with for edits again I missed it alot because i used to love edits and amvs but since getting heavy into Percy i haven't watched them as much since he just doesn't really get them because of the whole like three scenes thing

[wheregoodthingsthrive]

Hellsing Headcanon Mass Post

I had been wanting to make one of these for a long while. Compiling a lot of my overly fleshed out ideas for the Hellsing five especially is a fixation for me and a lot of these are 8+ years in the making. This is long and covers Seras, Integra, Pip, and Walter. Alucard isn't in here cause I want the others to get more love lmao. I'll do Iscariot and Alucard eventually. I just want to try this out-- I want to make more Hellsing friends, especially one's willing to build on the lush free real estate we have here :3

Seras Victoria 

Born February 9th 1979* 

I refuse to believe she was 19 and a cop. *I don’t know how old I want her to be exactly but part of me thinks she’s either Integra’s age (22) or younger by a few months. I refuse. 

Her middle name is Marie, which is her mother’s name, 

Speaking of her parents -- her parents, Marie and John-Mark Victoria, were an elementary teacher and a cop (duh) respectively. 

They were a pretty chill middle class family, known in their community pretty well as they were often involved in a lot. 

So the brutal breaking and entering double homicide of the family and the orphaning of Seras was a big deal. It was in the local news. Definitely contributes to Seras having an intense need to NOT stand out. 

Her time at the orphanage is a seriously blocked out time period for her and for good reason -- it was a very emotionally and mentally isolating place. And she was disciplined. A lot. As canon explores, she was very violent, aggressive, and apprehensive of relations. She never truly got the therapy she needed and she surely thought the orphanage’s religious predisposition would not help. 

Protestant turned skeptical agnostic. She never understands religion all that well after her traumatic childhood. 

She went to a private school until her graduation. She had a massive passion in the law and enforcement, leading her to become a cop for emotional reasons she could never really place (traumatic memory blocking lmao) 

Despite being picked on and being seen as a little lesser, Seras really did enjoy her job as a cop and hoped to one day become a sergeant or a head of the office. Her fellow coworkers really wanted to see her succeed… 

In/Beyond Hellsing

The TV show was onto something with having Seras and Integra have quite the strained relationship. Seras just wanted to be liked and definitely understood that she was seen as an ‘invader’ into this strange little found family. 

I don’t have much more on this in terms of Seras’ side because Integra’s side has more potential for nuance. See Integra section. <3 

Overall, Seras has a very skittish relationship with everyone. She does get close to Walter though, as he’s the most merciful with her regarding her development as a Hellsing agent and vampire alike. She gets on the tradition of being up early enough to enjoy morning tea with him. (She can’t drink it but it helps her feel normal)

Her vampiric arm CAN formulate into a normal, fleshy arm but she prefers it not to as it reminds her of her strength. She can equally dissipate a lot of her body, mainly her eyes and back alongside her arm, but she can’t go full shadow like Alucard can on a whim. 

Vampires of different classes have different arrays of abilities. Seras learns a lot of hers is illusionary and omnipresence. Shadow work, shape shifting, illusions, and expert third-eye vision are her specialties. 

Miscellaneous 

Her favorite drink was London fog or a classic pint of beer. Her sweet tooth was unbeatable. 

She has a nice list of hobbies and interests! She loves dancing, can crochet, learning calligraphy for fun, 

Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing 

Born June 17th 1977

It’s van Helsing but whatever. Hellsing is the popularized version of the surname but if you ever ask her to sign a document or write her name, she always fills it out as ‘van Helsing’ because it is “correct”. 

Childhood and Parents

Integra is conceived out of wedlock between Arthur and Ahalya. They met in 1975 and Integra was born three months after their official wedding. Both of her parents were on the older side.  

Her ‘bastard’ status was a big issue in her inheritance and caused, frankly, a lot of tension between Arthur and Richard and more so doubts among the Round Table. 

Arthur defended his decision till the day he died. Integra was the best thing that ever happened to him. 

I AM TIRED OF SEEING NEGLIGENT FATHER ARTHURS. WAKE UP GUYS. 

Arthur was a devoted, very loving, very gracious father. Meeting Ahalya and really taking the Hellsing position seriously since his 30s helped prepare him to be an engaging father and dedicated spouse. While he was busy and often away, any moment he got with Integra was intentional and held his undivided attention. 

Integra’s mother was present until she was ten. Her mother was a little less emotional but equally loving. She was very adamant on Integra’s education and development into a young, respectable lady. She was very against Integra becoming the next head of Hellsing but Arthur was insistent. 

While not always perfect, Integra and her mother got along. Her mother passed away in the spring of 1987 due to terminal illness. 

She was basically raised by Walter whenever neither of her parents were around. They were the best of friends and could read each other like books. Where Arthur taught her the occult and leadership, her mother etiquette and poise, Walter taught her self-reliance and strong headedness. 

Their relationship was not always perfect and definitely hit a rocky patch when Alucard returned. She still never understood what their deal was. 

Early adult years - Integra is the most socially inept but poised individual. Talking to men? Talking to women? It’s near impossible. She’s a brick wall. She’s real fun at parties when she is either obligated or strongly convinced to go to them. 

Definitely earns herself a Elizabeth I reputation. The only time she ever dated was when she was 15 and she had a picnic with a guy her age once. Never again. 

Hellsing Era

Integra’s ascent into the head of the organization was agonizingly painful. Walter served as her legal guardian and Alucard was her…strange project. 

This is truly when she adopted her more masculine persona and this…closed off nature. It was the only way she saw herself being protected from all the prying, doubting, and slander of the bureaucracies. Was this damaging to her? Absolutely. 

Despite this, she grew very close with her father’s trusted friends. Penwood is more at an arm's length while surprisingly, despite his intensity, Irons is her closest among the RTC. 

Irons definitely sees Integra as his daughter as well, not even as Arthur’s child. 

Her relationship with Alucard at this time is very odd. Mentor/mentee, master/servant, Hellsing/vampire. She didn’t quite know how to appreciate him at this time 

A major contributor to their relationship growing was her discovery of Hellsing experiments and frankly more shameful works. While not inherently positive to their dynamic, it definitely changed the way she viewed Alucard forever. 

Adding onto the Seras/Integra segment here from Integra’s perspective. Integra can not afford to lose her ‘normal’. She is a creature of habit and stability. She would never admit it but the upheaval of her life via the death of her father, the absenteeism of Walter, the introduction of Alucard, her first kill, etc. ruined her perceived safety and it took her many years to regain it. 

She had a new, safe, constant normal with Walter and Alucard. So when Seras is introduced, Integra feels threatened. Her vampire acted irrationally and now she has to pay for it (literally and socially). Seras was an unfactored element to her that invaded her life and threw her into disarray. Obviously, this feeling does not last forever, but she detests Seras at first. 

I could also make a point about Integra having no real positive feminine influences in her life after her mother dies. She lives in such a masculine bubble that when Seras is introduced, she frankly does not know how to respond to a positive, feminine presence. That’s a whole other bag of marshmallows for another time.   

Post-Hellsing

She dies fifteen years after the time skip finale from natural causes. 

Miscellaneous 

Operas are her favorite. Her favorite is Tosca. Her favorite activity with Arthur in her youth was to attend the opera and ballets and the likes.

She pulls just as much as Arthur did. :)   

She is fluent in Dutch and English, and knows a decent handful of French and German from her governess days.

Pip Bernadotte 

Born March 27th 1972. Left handed. 

His full name is Pierre Andre. ‘Pip’ stuck in his youth. 

I have an unhealthy loyalty to believing he is French-Belgian-Columbian. Why Columbian? Because I said so. 

His father served on a mercenary job in Columbia where he met Pip’s mother and he brought her back to Europe with him. Pip was born in Belgium and his parents split up shortly after his birth but they never married. He was left with his dad as his mother returned to the Americas. 

He was primarily raised by her grandfather due to his father’s pretty constant absenteeism but whenever his father was around, it was very pleasant and he has a good, positive recollection of his father. 

His grandfather though? It was complicated. He was a stern disciplinarian.    

His father passed away in Pip’s 20s. They hadn’t seen each other for a few years leading up to his death, not in a negative way…just…kinda went down their own paths. 

Pip skipped Belgium and backpacked all around Europe for a long time after his basic level education. He used to have aspirations of being an actor but well we all saw what he actually is so say goodbye to the dream. 

He was engaged at least three times. Absolute dumbass heartbreaker. 

This is a running joke with the Wild Geese and definitely contributed to his dedication to Seras. She really made him want to settle and stop and be still. Sobs.  

Leading up to Hellsing/Hellsing

He was dumb, young, and had both eyes when he joined his first mercenary group. It was not the Wild Geese but there were some guys in there he met who would soon coagulate into the WG. 

That being said, he found he could make more money if he ran the show, so entered the formation of the Wild Geese. 

When he lost his eye, he temporarily considered getting a fake glass eye but (thank you cocolacola &lt;3) Seras gave him the eyepatch as a “welcome to Hellsing sorry for flicking you” offering. 

He’s got some unsorted trauma from losing his eye but he’s an adamant “it’s not that bad I don’t need to talk about it” kind of guy. Toxic masculinity or whatever. 

In general. He’s got a lot of unresolved/undiscussed trauma. Will he ever discuss it? No. 

Y’know. I feel he and Walter clicked too. They’re both a pair of war dogs who refuse to talk about being said war dogs. Pip is also under the illusion that Walter is pretty normal too until he soon realizes he is NOT. Pip and Walter worked together a lot in creating training drills, tweaking defense systems, and Pip ran the whole “this is our new defense plan” by the latter and both were maybe too excited to bond over insane artillery. 

Pip is not allowed in the gunshop though.

 When it comes to Integra, this man has mad respect for her and after the first greeting, he would never dare to disrespect her to her face or without good humor. 

Alucard is another…can of worms. Pip and Alucard have this odd ‘bro code’ honor between them but not much else. Really Pip only talks to Alucard because Seras serves as some type of liaison. 

As Seras’ familiar, I feel he develops ‘powers’- in a non-traditional sense. 

Memory barricades, psychic blocks/links, a minor form of omnipresence, and an adaptation of Seras’ skills when he branches out of her arm. 

He can materialize fully but not for long and is tethered to Seras via her shadow, so if that is cut, he dissipates. 

Miscellaneous 

He is a polyglot! French, Dutch, Italian, Spanish, English fluently. Arabic, German, and Greek intermittently. 

He's a pescetarian. A failing one. 

Pip is a practicing Protestant but you’d never hear him be too open about it and he’s not a calendar Christian either. He’s pretty devoted. 

Walter C. Dornez 

Born September 30th, 1930. Left handed. 

The ‘C’ stands for Christaan: yes that’s how it’s spelled, it’s Dutch. 

This is my small blip on anon about his parents 

Tldr; Walter is maternally a Seward. His mother is Seward’s daughter and served as a nurse in WWI. She’s also the original holder of the monofilament wires, a vampire hunting weapon devised by the Sewards and their assistance to Hellsing in the early 1890s-1910-20s.

His father is from the Netherlands and served in the war.

He grew up in Rotterdam, Netherlands, until May 1940 when the Nazis invaded the Netherlands. 

In their exit from continent Europe, his parents parted ways. Mother took him to England, father stayed behind to aid resistance. He never came back. 

His mother left him in the stead of Hellsing as they are technically family friends and also left him with her precious wires. 

Started as a hall-boy, moved to a footman in 1941 and then was conscripted into Hellsing full-time forces in 1942, earning the moniker the same year. 

A 14 year old being a butler is ridiculous. As a history major, one who has an area of study in grand-house culture (staff and aristocracy) and hierarchy, it would be UNFOUNDED to have someone so young and seemingly inexperienced serving in a role like that. 

Now when he’s older? Plausible. Especially given the decline in house staff necessity, especially after the war. So anyways, his official title is butler to the Hellsing family and valet to Sir Hellsing. 

Dawn Era and Further 

He was the Hellsing infantry’s lil guy. His only friends were grown men who were either scared of him or thought he was puny. He definitely had to work for his respect and favor, with lots of blood, sweat, and tears. 

A big credit to his success in the ranks was his aptitude with gunsmithing. Making Hellsing’s literal arms makes you a valuable player. 

If he wasn’t using wires, he was using his own handcrafted sniper rifle: Pandora. 

This will be indulgent. 

Warsaw, Poland 1944. Kid can not remember any of it save for emotions, blurry recollection, and now his neck hurts on occasion. 

That Captain fight left him unrecognizable, even to himself, and absolutely shattered the early camaraderie he TRIED to have Alucard. 

He struggled to reconcile that Hellsing was any different than Millennium given he felt they were both out for him, just in different ways. 

Sometimes it’s best he doesn't remember.  

Poland definitely changed him for the worse - intense conditioning to violence made it near impossible for him to adapt back to the real world and being so pivotal in Hellsing forces so early on gave him quite the ego. 

He attended Balliol Harvard to study politics and economics. It was a fine time. Definitely awoke something in him. GAY. HE’S GAY. College was in general not too kind to him in the regard that trying to go back to a strange calm after his tumultuous teen years was……..immensely damaging to his psyche. 

Alucard. God where do I start. They had a…rivals to friends to no-contact to rivals to coworkers to friends to lovers (?) to amorous thoughts to haters to rivals to classy exes to…vampire fights in leather. It’s complicated. 

Integra is his absolute darling. He loves her so much despite being a ‘I hate kids’ individual leading up to that. He loved her as the daughter he never had/never will have and also because it evened Arthur out completely. 

Speaking of Arthur. Walter and Arthur have a complicated relationship- not quite father/son, not quite employer/employee, not quite sir/valet. Arthur was almost too casual with Walter early on but later, they developed a strange, taut but friendly mutual respect. 

Events of Hellsing

He died in ep5. He looked like a shattered jam jar on the streets of London when the Captain was done with him. I refuse to accept otherwise. 

Vampirism obviously saved him- for better or for worse is up to you. 

This is another bag of marshmallows but I like to think his vampire form is. Uncanny. He’s got some strange new features that distinctly set him apart from natural vampires, a common trait with Millennium engineered vampires.

Miscellaneous

Woman magnet. This man pulled from his 20s to his 40s. Crazy thing though? This man is not into women. Lmao. He has the ‘single attractive bachelor who is single for a reason’ vibe. 

Despite not being a fan of Arthur’s…colorful liveliness…he did some fun, maybe wild things in his youth too. He was no stranger to drinking, going to clubs, dancing, and has perhaps tried a substance or two. Anything to cope. 

Not even he knows how the wires work…he only knows they listen to him. 

They also function like web shooters or hooks if he controls the tension correctly. 

He is decked in scars from monofilament training. Has almost lost fingers MANY TIMES

[wardencommanderrodimiss]

Okay, next part:

I befuckened my entire Pokémon universe when I made Scarlett be Zoe’s daughter because it was funny but many people on this website say that cringe culture is dead and I think I need to simply accept that no Pokémon game will ever imprint itself on my psyche the way that Black/White did, and if I want to keep tying Zoe into my canon with the new games going forward, that is my right.

The entire thought that caused this was “hey, could Zoe have met Sada way before the events of Scarlet? Like, during Sada's initial Area Zero exploration?”

The answer is yes. If I go with “20 years before Scarlet” as the Area Zero exploration, then that puts me two years after Black 2, one year before Sun. Zoe is nineteen and has been neck-deep in studying history and legends since That Shit with Team Plasma happened. She spends a year or two in Kalos, helping Professor Sycamore; both Professors Juniper know her; whenever word gets out through the Regional Professors Group Chat about a new team heading into Area Zero to do research, they recommend Zoe as a team member - really just in a guard role, since Area Zero's wild Pokemon (even before Sada starts bringing in the Paradoxes) are worrying.

Anyway Zoe spends a couple months with the team, does not get attacked by anything interesting, and then moves on when it's determined that Area Zero is ""safe enough"" for Sada to do some more long-term research. Zoe probably does not get to know either Sada or Clavell very well, but she does know them; twenty years later, she and Clavell recognize each other when he brings over a starter Pokemon for Scarlett.

The entire reason why I want Zoe to have met Sada at any point is because sometime last week I was being So Normal with the amount of thoughts I have about Zoe, tying to Scarlett and Arven and Sada’s obsession with the past. Sada’s interest is prehistory, ancient Pokémon from millions of years ago; Zoe’s interest is the age of legends and the legendary Pokémon from a few thousand years ago. But Zoe is permanently anchored to the past by her bond with Reshiram and its significance to Unova’s history. Zoe’s own interest in the past and in ancient things is because she’s trying to use that knowledge of the past to help herself figure out her place in the present; Sada’s obsession with the past ends up with her trying to create a sanctuary in it. Sada's fixation on the past becomes a detriment to her living in the present; Zoe eventually figures out how to carry the past with her here in the present.

And they don't need to meet, because the parallel is more about their kids, Arven and Scarlett, but I just want them to meet. It's fun. And also, Zoe having spent some time in Paldea at some point gives another reason for her to eventually move back there, besides Scarlett wanting to attend Naranja Academy.

The only problem with this timeline of things is that Zoe and Sada meet before Arven is ever born, and early on when I was thinking through this I pictured, when asked by her friends about the people she's working with, Zoe describing Sada as "idk kind of a milf", but that joke is the least important part of any of this, so I can live with losing it.

Trying to determine some stuff for my Pokemon universe timeline, in order to draft some character thoughts. Scarlet/Violet game spoilers here.

First: Scarlet timeline stuff from the game. The Tera Orbs are said to have come into use in the Paldean League a decade before the game, as far as I remember. The implied timeline in Sada's Area Zero journals would suggest she's been working on it for much longer than that.

She secures corporate funding with her prototype of the Tera Orb, builds her lighthouse laboratory, and spends some amount of time away from her Area Zero lab. Eventually, she returns with a small team and they manage to create the time machine: Koraidon is implied to have arrived around the time that Arven was born. Arven, I figure, is probably about seventeen or eighteen.

So then the Tera Orb is probably in progress as a prototype for a decade before it sees wide release? That seems fair, especially since Sada's real passion is her research in Area Zero. The Tera Orb got her funding, but if she's dicking around with the time machine every chance she gets and is just working on the Tera Orb to appease the corporate sponsors, then that would slow the process. (The woman built an AI clone of herself, I think she could've figured out the Tera Orb in less than a decade if she wanted to. I'm giving her that.)

I believe Clavell was part of the initial Area Zero exploratory team with Sada, so he's probably known her for at least twenty years - it was probably very, very hard for him to watch as she spiraled deeper into obsession and isolation! Isn't that fun!

Actually I'll append my OC stuff later and dump this post here as it is for our reference.

[yanderes-galore]

Could you do a Sonya Blade concept (normal requests)

Sure! I need to do more Mortal Kombat ^^ Pardon me as I am still new to the MK fandom so I may get her character wrong.

Yandere! Sonya Blade Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Denial, Manipulation, Overprotective behavior, Violence, Threats of injury/murder.

- Sonya is a very tough and determined woman.

- She can be caring but easily gets fixated on missions and goals.

- This leads to her being caught up in her work easily.

- Sonya would have trouble fully having a relationship with her darling due to this weakness of hers.

- For an example of this we can see it between her and Johnny Cage.

- She had a child with him but they eventually had to part.

- She'd probably fear something similar happening with you and tries to smother her attraction to you.

- Sonya knows she has trouble with settling down due to her line of work.

- Which means when she starts having feelings for you, she tries to lock them away.

- While fighting alongside you, or even against you at times, she has to convince herself her feelings aren't the best for you and her.

- While her heart does indeed beat for you, she knows if she gives in she'll have to make sacrifices.

- This means it'll take time before she accepts her feelings for you.

- Even when she's still in denial, some signs of interest do get through.

- She's very caring towards you.

- She's also protective when you both are working together.

- Although she tries to mask it as being close friends with you.

- You two have to stick together, right?

- Sonya would be Overprotective, Manipulative, Determined, and Caring

- She isn't too bad if you're the person she likes.

- Sonya is a pretty skilled soldier and is not afraid to beat some people down when she needs to.

- Even if she's still in denial about how she feels about you, she shows protective qualities.

- Some people just need a kick in the teeth.

- When she accepts the fact she's fallen for you, she bumps things up ever so slightly.

- She doesn't care if the person who laid their hands on you dies or not, she doesn't want anyone like that around you.

- In the world of Mortal Kombat, many issues are solved through fighting anyways.

- Sonya may also be manipulative.

- But she'd be the one who does it out of protecting you.

- She isn't really the type to get overly jealous about people around you.

- Only if they try something, flirtatious or murderous it doesn't matter.

- Her goal quickly becomes getting you away from them.

- Sonya is also determined when it comes to goals.

- When she feels she wants to admit her feelings towards you, she is determined to tell you.

- Even if you don't accept them right away... she's sure you will with time.

- Sonya is also very caring towards you, more than her usual comrades.

- She wants you happy, she wants you safe.

- She's willing to do almost anything she can to make you happy with her.

- Even settling down with you after some heavy preparation on her part.

- Now for some little things as her behavior's now been covered.

- She doesn't want Kano anywhere near you which is one of the reasons she's scared to be involved with you.

- Sonya also trusts Jax and Cassie around you, maybe a bit iffy with Johnny though.

- Overall, Sonya is caring although hesitant to start a long term relationship at first.

- Over time, however, she breaks her denial and pursues her obsession.

- Which can be either good or bad, depending on who you are and your feelings about her.

[watchmegetobsessed]

Don’t Worry - Harry Styles

a/n: i’m so excited about this!!! this fic is my take on the song Don’t Worry by The 1975 for @harrystylescherry ‘s Playlist fic challenge! it took me a lot longer to finish this one, mostly because i chose to write about a topic that’s painfully close to my heart and life and i hope to help those of you who are struggling with similar problems. it’s a touchy subject and i really hope i can at least help just for a little by putting this piece out! also, huge thanks to Nat for this challenge and i can’t wait to read all the other fics!!

warning: eating disorder, lots of self-hatred but even more fluff and love!

word count: 3.8k

masterlist

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip a little harder than they should, it’s starting to feel painful but you don’t even realize. You’re way too fixated on the Instagram post in front of you, swiping through the same four pictures over and over again, crippling anxiety crawling up your spine, clouding your every thought.

Oh how you wish you could say that you’re not the jealous type. Well, in a way, you are not. You don’t think your boyfriend would ever cheat on you or leave you, that’s just not him as a person. Your jealousy roots in your insecurities about your body and it creates more of a confusion in your head about why Harry, your boyfriend of three years is really dating you when he could have anyone, any model or super gorgeous singer, actress out there, yet he settled for… you.

Your thumb swipes across the screen again as you keep staring at the bikini photos Kendall Jenner has recently posted. She is stunning, the perfect model type with her long legs, skinny torso and snatched waist. Hell, she could make you question your sexuality on other days even, but today she is feeding your burning insecurities.

The thought that at one point in life, your boyfriend was with her makes you feel sick, because you are simply nothing like her. In every sense, you are what others like to call curvy, however you often use other terms, some not too nice ones on your worse days. Your hips are wide, holding quite some meat on them, your full thighs never heard of such thing as thigh gaps, not even when you were a kid. Your tummy brings you a headache sometimes when you want to wear something tight, the urge to hide it stronger than your fashion sense. It’s been ages since you last dared to step out of the house without a bra on, your full breasts always need the support if you don’t want them to sit a little lower on your chest than what you prefer. There are rolls, extra skin, stretch marks and all that jazz on your body and has been for a long time. No model looks like this and you are more than aware of that. But if your boyfriend can get any of them, why did he settle for you?

Tears are threatening to roll down your cheeks when you finally close the app and stop staring at Kendall’s perfect body. You ball your hands to stop them from shaking as you make your way to the bathroom in need of some freshening up. The cold water in your face feels nice, but the moment your eyes fall on your reflection you almost cringe at your own sight, as if it’s a reminder of everything you thought about in the past hour.

What is Harry doing with someone like me? The question keeps playing in your head on repeat and you wish you had a relevant answer, but your tainted thoughts keep bringing you back to the same point: He surely will realize it himself and leave me.

You try your best to shake it all off your mind, but it’s not easy. Sitting at the dining table you busy yourself with some work you brought home, hoping the files will keep your wandering thoughts at bay, however the attempt is not quite successful. And then you hear the front door open and close, followed by Harry’s sweet greeting.

“I’m home, baby!” he calls out and you can tell he is in a great mood just from his voice. You force your best fake smile to your lips, not wanting to ruin his mood with your petty party. He walks in, eyes falling on your sitting figure at the table and though you don’t know it, his heart flutters, like always, even after three years together.

Harry is obsessed with you, to say the least. Every little thing about you fascinates him, he loves everything about you, inside and out, just the way you are and he vowed to never stop telling you how much he adorns you.

“Hey there, wha’cha doin’?” he asks, kissing into your hair as he scans over the papers on the table.

“Oh, just… some extra work,” you shrug, chewing on your bottom lip again, the skin is about to break soon for sure.

“Baby, you work too much. Take some time off,” he tells you, shuffling around before he disappears in the bedroom for a moment before reappearing. “Fancy taking a bath with me?” he offers with a cheeky smile.

Bath, for that you’d have to be completely naked in front of him. That cannot happen in this state of mind.

“Um, I want to finish this. Maybe next time,” you tell him with a faint smile.

“You sure? I could massage your shoulders the way you like it so much, we could try that new bath salt we bought.”

“I really want to get this done, H. You just go and enjoy your bath,” you insist, the stern voice catches him a little by surprise.

“Everything alright baby?” His eyebrows pull together as he watches you from across the room.

“Mm, everything is fine. Just… working,” you tell him, eyes on the papers in front of you, pretending like you’re reading the lines, but in reality you have absolutely no idea what the words are saying. You hear him mumble a soft alright before he disappears again, leaving you alone.

A shaky breath leaves your trembling lips once you hear the water running in the bathroom. You bury your face in your palms, feeling so defeated and lost, the only thing that would comfort you would be Harry, but he cannot know what’s been going on in your head. He would never understand the struggle.

These thoughts usually only last for a few days. You always manage to forget about them eventually and return to normality, but not this time. Days turn into weeks and you find yourself sinking deeper into the hole you created for yourself. It starts to effect more parts of your life too. You’re having a hard time sleeping, always waking up several times during the night and sometimes you don’t even fall back asleep after one point. You lose your appetite, your mind tells you that you don’t need the nutritious food, that you need to lose the fat because that’s the only way you can keep Harry. You stop wearing your favorite clothes, always opt for the looser ones that hide every inch of your body and spend way too much time zoned out. You keep catching yourself completely lost in your thoughts during the day, thinking about how Harry might be comparing you to his exes every time he sees you, especially naked.

It’s been long since the last time you were intimate with Harry and you feel so bad for it, but you haven’t been able to bring yourself to bare your body in front of him. You always blew him off with some lame excuse and though there’s a chance he didn’t catch onto whatever was going on, now you know he is suspicious.

And you’re right. Harry notices every little thing, all the changes you’ve been going through. How you leave half your plate uneaten at dinner or how he finds you lying awake next to him in the middle of the night. He also notices how your favorite dresses and shirts remain untouched through the weeks even though you always wear them whenever you have the chance. Instead, he only sees you in big hoodies and loose pants, hiding the delicious curves of your body. But what truly pains him is how you’ve been ignoring all his tries to get close to you, the way you move away from his touch.

The last straw however happens on a Friday afternoon. You are sitting on the couch, mindlessly clicking through Netflix on the TV, trying to find something to watch when Harry is roaming through the cabinets in the bathroom, looking for the lotion he only uses when his skin feels extremely dry. He is going through every drawer and shelf, not finding what he is looking for, but then something odd catches his attention. Some weird named pills are sitting at the back of one of the shelves, hidden behind your perfumes so he hasn’t noticed it, but as he takes it out to have a better look at them, he almost throws them across the room. He has heard of similar pills before, they do more harm than help in weightloss, ruining your digestive system so badly you can actually get way more serious health problems if you use them too long. He frantically tears the box open and see that one third of the pills are gone, meaning that you’ve been taking them for a little while now behind his back.

With the box in his hand, he marches out to the living room where you are still and holding the pills up, he needs everything in him not to flip immediately.

“What the fuck are these?” he grits through his teeth. Your breath gets caught in your throat, he was never supposed to find those, but the cat’s out of the bad and now you can’t think of anything to bring up to your defense, knowing well he very much does not approve these kind of stuff.

“They are… I’m doing a cleanse,” you say, but there’s no use to lie.

“Drinking juice is for cleansing, this shit ruins your body,” he spats, throwing the box to the couch and you bite into your bottom lip, feeling the tears building up already. “Why would you even think about taking these?”

“Why?” you chuckle bitterly, your vision blurry from the tears. “Oh come on, don’t be so oblivious.”

“Y/N, these stuff are dangerous!” his anger turns into despair and concern as he sits beside you on the couch. “Baby, why did you take them?”

“Because I’m desperate, Harry!” you snap at him, the hot tears running down your cheeks. “You have no idea what I go through every fucking day!”

“Then talk to me! I want to know everything, I want to help you!” he pleads, reaching for your hand but you move away from him. “Please talk to me, baby!”

“So you can feed me lies? I’m not naïve, Harry,” you shake your head vigorously.

“What are you talking about?”

“Me! I’m talking about… this,” you growl gesturing at yourself. Harry runs his gaze down your body, but he still can’t figure out what this is about. You look beautiful, you always do in his eyes, he has no idea what the matter is. “I’m not one of your exes and all those models you’ve been rumored to date, Harry.”

“Okay and why is that relevant?”

“Because how am I the right person for someone like you? I’m not skinny, I’m not pretty and I’ll probably never be anything like the girls you dated. Why are you even wasting your time on me?”

By the time you get to the end, your tears are flooding and it breaks Harry’s heart to see you like this. Feeling so unworthy when in his eyes, you deserve everything. You’re perfect.

“I’m not wasting anything on you, baby. Why do you even want to look like them? I love every inch of your beautiful body!”

You flinch at his words. Deep down you know he means them, but there’s this barricade on your mind that tells you he is not serious, that he is only saying those things because he feels like he has to say them, not because he means them. That evil little voice in your head keeps telling you not to believe anything he says.

How could he love your body? How could a man like him be okay with someone like you? He doesn’t want to be with you. He’ll realize it and leave you!

You wish you could turn it off, you wish there was a switch that would shut out all these thoughts, but they just keep coming and coming. Harry watches you break right in front of his eyes and he has no idea what to do, panic is setting in. He feels like a failure that he let you reach this point.

“Baby, I fucking love you. Everything about you. Please don’t feel like you have to change for me. I love you no matter what, I think you are the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen. If you want to change, do it because you want to do it for yourself! You don’t have to change for me!”

He is practically begging, desperate to get you to understand that you’re perfect to him just the way you are, that he is in love with every inch of your beautiful body. He reaches out to your face again and though you move away again and it pains him so much, he still goes through with the action and cups your face in his hand. His clammy palm meets your wet cheek as he turns your head so he can look into your eyes, but you are relentlessly keeping your gaze focused anywhere but him.

You can’t bear looking at him or yourself, you just want to disappear, vanish into nothing, existence right now feels like just too much.

“Love, please look at me,” he quietly begs and you shake your head no. “Please, let me see those beautiful eyes I love so much.”

You wince at his words and try to turn your head away, but he cups the other side of your face with his other hand, keeping it in place. Your eyes are wired shut, you just can’t look at him, it would break you.

Harry is kneeling next to the couch now where you are curled up, your arms wrapped around your knees as you try to hide yourself. You feel so lost, so miserable and you wish he didn’t see you like this.

“I can’t, Harry. I can’t,” you tell him shaking your head vigorously. Part of you feels so stupid for acting like this, but you just can’t help it. It’s not you anymore who is in charge of your mind and actions, you feel more like just a witness who sees herself from the outside and she doesn’t like what she sees, not even a bit.

Harry pushes himself up from the ground and takes the thick blanket from the back of the couch, draping it over you as he shimmies himself next to you, arms wrapping around your frame as he pulls you to his chest, covering you with the warm blanket as if it was some kind of shield from the world and that’s exactly what you need. A hiding spot.

You let him pull you to him, face buried into his chest as you sob into his shirt, his strong arms holding you so tight, you feel like nothing can hurt you with his hold around you.

“I love you, baby. I really do. And when I tell you I find you gorgeous and that how pretty I think you are, that’s the truth. I love everything about you. Fell in love with you the first time I saw you and I’m not even joking. Please don’t ever think that you have to change for me.”

“But I can’t stop thinking about how I’m so different from the people you’ve dated,” you whimper shaking your head. His hands squeeze your upper arm as he kisses the crown of your head.

“Different is not bad, baby. I didn’t date my previous girlfriends because they looked the way they did. If I’m thinking about it, I should feel a little offended you think I’m so shallow to care about these stuff,” he jokes, earning a faint huff that’s somewhat a laugh from you.

“I just think that you’re not blind.”

“That is correct,” he chuckles. “I’m not blind, that’s why I find you so incredibly sexy.”

“I really don’t see how you can use the word sexy to describe me,” you mumble closing your eyes as a headache is starting to form from how hard you were crying just a minute ago.

“What do you think there is on you that I shouldn’t find attractive?” he prompts the question in all seriousness.

“Please don’t get me started because we’ll never get to the end of the list,” you huff bitterly. It might have come out as a joke but there’s just plenty of the truth behind your words.

“No, seriously. Tell me what you think I don’t find attractive on you,” he nags and you give up with a sigh.

“Okay, I… I have fat rolls on my stomach,” you start off with the first thing that’s on your mind.

“Everyone has them.”

“But not as big as mine. Yours aren’t as big as mine.”

“So what? I love your tummy. It’s soft, keeps your organs safe, especially the ones that will help us start a family at one point. For me, your tummy means that you are enjoying the wonderful foods of the world, that you are well and have a great appetite. I fucking hate it when girls are just poking around their salads, complaining about calories and all that stuff. Do you have any idea how much I enjoy watching you eat? I think it might be a fetish at this point,” he chuckles, making you laugh as you hide your face in his chest.

“Please don’t say that.”

“Why? I love it when you enjoy the food, I love trying new food with you, cooking with you, see you satisfied when you’re full, you have no idea how happy that makes me.”

“Really?” you ask in a whisper.

“Absolutely. I love your tummy, it’s just even more of you to love on,” he hums kissing the top of your head. “Okay, what’s next?”

“I have so many stretch marks,” you whine with a scowl. “They are everywhere, on my thighs, my ass, my stomach, fucking everywhere!”

“I literally have nothing else to say than… I couldn’t care less. Honestly, most people have them, baby. It’s natural, your body is changing, it’s just trying to keep up with the pace. But you know what I’m looking forward to?”

“What?”

“I can’t wait till you have marks from pregnancy, Love,” he huffs dreamily and you can’t help, but smile at his words. “Those marks will be a reminder to me how much you’ve gone through for our family. I think those are just so wonderful.”

“Why are you linking everything with having babies?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asks chuckling. “Because I can’t wait to have babies with you. I can’t wait to see you with a big belly, so I can love on you, take care of you and that our babies, I’m so excited for that.”

“You want all of that… with me?”

“Have I not made it clear to you?” he asks, looking down at you and moving your head your eyes finally meet his. “I’m not just saying all those things for nothing, Love. I see my future with you.”

Closing your eyes you let his words sink in and for the first time in a while, your mind is not trying to convince you that he is not telling you the truth.

“Okay, next,” he mumbles, his fingers dancing up and down your arm as he holds you tight.

“My boobs are weird,” you say out loud, cringing at your own words. You hate talking about this.

“Excuse me? What’s wrong with my girls?” he gasps, making you laugh.

“They are not as round as I would want them to be, a little saggy because of the weight gaining.”

“But they are boobs,” he points out, making you furrow your eyebrows.

“Yeah?”

“Okay, so that’s all that matters. Boobs are great, nothing else matters. Men are simple, baby.”

“I can’t believe you,” you laugh swatting his chest playfully.

“What? I mean it! Do you think I think about all that stuff when I see your boobs? My mind goes: Oh my God, boobs! And that’s it. I just get excited to see your tits.”

“You are such a pig,” you laugh, snuggling closer to his side.

“Are you shaming me for my preferences now?”

“Your preferences?”

“Yeah, you are my preference,” he remarks smugly, kissing into your hair again. “I literally don’t know how to say it differently, and I’m sorry for being so vulgar in advance…”

“Oh God,” you mumble, already fearing what he’s going to say.

“But you have nothing to worry about until you see my dick getting hard at the sight of you.”

“That was highly inappropriate.”

“Yeah, but it’s true. I find you sexy and there’s evidence. I can’t really hide it,” he chuckles and when you look up at him you see a dirty, twisted smirk on his pink lips. “Please don’t ever doubt any of my feelings for you, alright?” he asks in a more serious tone. “And if you feel like this again, I want you to tell me. Those pills and bottling it up inside you don’t help. I don’t want you to risk your health just because you have doubts about me. I love you, and when I say that I mean that I love all of you. Everything.”

“Okay,” you answer in a faint whisper.

“Don’t just say okay because you want me to get out of your hair. Promise me that you won’t keep it to yourself. I want to help you, I want to be there for you like you are always there for me.”

“I promise,” you nod, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip.

“Alright. Have you eaten today?” he softly asks and you fear to give him an answer, because you haven’t been able to push anything else down than just your morning coffee. “Okay, then let me make you something.” “I don’t… I’m not hungry…” you quietly tell him.

“Mhm, then I’ll make something for myself and being the romantic boyfriend that I am, I’m gonna share it with my lovely girlfriend as a cute gesture,” he says, rephrasing what he said earlier. You don’t argue with him, just let him slip out of your hold and go to the kitchen to make something for the two of you.

It’s a tiny step on a lifelong journey and you know that. You know that your feelings and opinion about yourself won’t change from one day to the other, but you slowly start to accept it. You have a lot ahead of you, the road might get bumpy sometimes and maybe other times you’ll have to take a few steps back. But at the end, you know it’s all going to be alright, because you will never be alone. Harry will be your greatest support through it all and now you can finally see that.

Don’t Worry - The 1975

When you're in love but you don't know what to do with it When blackness hangs overhead like a cloud

Don't worry, darlin' 'Cause I'm here with you Don't worry, darlin' The sun will shine through

When you wake up and you don't know what day it is When the pain flows through your heart and your bones

Don't worry, darlin' 'Cause I'm here with you Don't worry, darlin' The sun will shine through

When you feel no one knows just what you're goin' through When your insides feel much colder than snow

Don't worry, darlin' 'Cause I'm here with you Don't worry, darlin' Oh, don't worry, darlin' Don't worry, darlin' I'll always love you You

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[makeste]

save no matter what.

so this is going to ultimately be a post about Deku. however, if you’ll be so kind as to indulge me, I would like to start things off by making a point about Bakugou. specifically, I’d like to point out that back in the day before this kid got Character Development no Jutsu’d, people weren’t always so inclined to view his attitude towards winning in the best light. which is a nice way of saying that he came off as unhealthily obsessed, not to mention more than a little unhinged.

sorry for the image spam btw, I just think they’re funny. he’s so demented lmao. KILL DIE CRUSH.

anyway so we’re gonna do the rest of this below a cut before it gets long. but I promise it really is a Deku post lol. don’t let the pre-readmore stuff fool you. I PROMISE THERE IS A POINT, AND WE WILL GET TO IT.

anyway! so yeah, we really didn’t have the best impression of Bakugou’s whole winning fixation at the beginning there. and I mean, it’s not like we had the best impression of Bakugou himself at the start of things either. we were already primed from the very first chapter to see this kid as an adversary to Izuku. the story goes out of its way to paint him in pretty much the worst light possible. which is why what happens next is so interesting.

because one might see all this and think, “holy heck, this kid is off the shits, somebody needs to set him straight pronto and get it into his head that winning isn’t everything.” because that’s almost the natural conclusion to draw. “look at this kid, he doesn’t care about helping other people at all, all he cares about is winning, someone needs to come along and show him that he’s got it backwards.”

except that’s not what happens, is it? because this is where, much to my delight, Horikoshi came along and started subverting expectations. because not only is Katsuki not rebuked for being so obsessed with winning -- it’s pretty much the exact opposite.

the one and only time Deku ever straight up hands Katsuki’s ass to him is when he says he doesn’t want to win. Deku is IMMEDIATELY all, “THE FUCK KIND OF BULLSHIT DID I JUST HEAR OUT OF YOUR TRASH MOUTH,” and that’s when he sets him straight.

the important people in Katsuki’s life never tell him, “hey you need to cool it with the whole winning thing.” All Might and Aizawa never scold him for it, or tell him that he shouldn’t try with everything he has to win, or that wanting to win is a bad thing. on the contrary, they both commend him for it. and ultimately, he’s told by All Might that this desire is actually one of the two fundamental qualities that every great hero needs.

he completely turns the whole thing on its head. not only is it not a bad thing, it’s actually crucial. essential. because what the desire to win really is, at its core, is tenacity. it’s the fiercest kind of determination. it’s not something he should be ashamed of; it’s something that sets him apart, something that makes him worthy. he is someone who refuses to back down no matter what. refuses to give up, no matter what. and this quality, which is initially misunderstood by some to the point where even the villains mistakenly take him for one of their own in the making, is eventually validated to the fullest degree by the person that Katsuki looks up to the most. his desire to win goes from being this awkward “son wtf are you doing” thing to being one of the core philosophies of the series. and ever since then, we pretty much don’t question it.

so why do I bring this up now? well, the answer to that can basically be summed up in one word.

“parallels.”

so here’s the thing. there’s been a lot of talk lately about Deku’s ridiculous, reckless, and absurdly self-destructive desire to save others while having little to no regard for himself. currently he’s lying in a hospital bed, having broken approximately 218 out of the 206 bones in his little hero body (yes, somewhere along the way he found an additional dozen bones to break). it is worrying. it is Concerning. and it’s raised a lot of questions, such as “???” and “wtf is this idiot doing.”

and a lot of people have been pretty critical of him! this is, of course, an ongoing thing with this child, and people have been giving him grief over it going as far back as chapter 6.

while others have been bothered by it going even further back than that.

and I’ve seen these sentiments being echoed pretty frequently in the fandom as well. and there are basically two talking points that I want to address here. the first is the idea that Deku’s aggressive brand of selflessness stems from an inherent lack of self-worth. in other words, because he prioritizes other people’s safety and well-being above his own, and is willing to go to such drastic lengths to save them, there’s this feeling that he doesn’t value himself enough, that he must not care about himself.

but I don’t think that’s quite it. let’s go back to those parallels first, though. let’s take another look at Kacchan.

what I mainly want to call attention to is the intensity here. again, it’s something that at first strikes most readers as being absurdly over the top. the truth is, I think a lot of people simply can’t relate to it. Katsuki cares about winning with a ferocity and a fervor that most people, for better or worse, simply don’t have. I certainly don’t, lol.

but he does. to him it’s not a shallow, superficial thing at all. it’s important to him, perhaps the most important thing. I think we often talk about it in terms of it being a desire, but imo a more accurate way to define it is not as a want, but as a need. in other words, it’s the opposite of the question “what is it this character wants” (i.e. “what is it they can’t live without”)? instead, it’s a question of “what is it they don’t want” (i.e. “what is it they can’t live with”)?

and in Katsuki’s case, the thing he can’t live with is feeling like he hasn’t tried his absolute best. he needs to give his all in everything he does. he wants to win, but winning just on its own is not enough.

it has to be earned. he has to prove to himself and to everyone else that he deserves it. anything less than that is unacceptable. anything less than that, and he can’t be at ease. he can’t be settled. he can’t rest. and so he puts everything he has into winning, even if it means going to extremes. because it’s that important to him.

it’s something that’s at times alarming and even disturbing for others to witness. but nonetheless, it’s a part of who he is, and at the end of the day his teachers accept that, and the story acknowledges that it’s his greatest strength.

so now, to finally bring this back around to Deku, this is what I keep seeing in his character as well. only in his case, the thing he can’t live with is knowing that he didn’t do everything he possibly could to save someone. or to put it another way, Deku, at his core, is someone who cannot rest until he knows that everyone is safe. simple as that. it’s not just a desire to protect people; it’s a need. he needs to know that everyone is safe and protected. otherwise he can’t be at ease. it’s no different from how normal, everyday people aren’t able to feel at ease unless they know that they are safe and that their loved ones are safe. it’s just that in Deku’s case, this same fundamental need extends to everyone, not just himself and his friends and family. everyone. he can’t live with himself knowing that someone was in trouble, and he had the ability to do something to help, but didn’t. and so, if you literally can’t live with not doing something, you basically have no choice but to do it.

and this is what in my opinion defines Deku’s character. Kacchan, in trying to understand it, noted that Deku doesn’t seem to take himself into account. but I think OFA Prime summed it up a little more accurately. “he rages for the sake of others. for them, he does his best until he can do no more. this young man is possessed by a drive to save others that eclipses all common understanding.”

so yeah. it’s not that he doesn’t care about himself at all, it’s that he cares about others even more. he has that same intensity and ferocity towards saving people that Katsuki has towards winning. and just as it was difficult at first for fans to understand Katsuki’s feelings, it’s hard to fathom the sheer depth of that “save everyone” feeling that compels Deku to break his own body in that pursuit. it’s scary, not to mention extremely destructive and dangerous. and so really, it was almost inevitable that there would be some backlash.

but just like Katsuki’s desire to win was ultimately validated in the end, I think Deku’s desire to save others will be as well. in fact it already is being validated, for starters by the other denizens of OFA, led by Lil Bro as mentioned above. let’s go back for a moment to that same scene.

here we get a huge hint that “Deku gets taken down a notch and chewed out and scolded for his recklessness” is not, in fact, the direction that the story is going in. because in general, when the main villain starts mocking the hero and saying that they’ve done something wrong, that’s a very good sign that said hero is actually on the exact right track. like, no offense, but as far as character critiques go, AFO is probably the least qualified person in the entire manga to start offering those up lol. so yeah. if AFO is denouncing Deku for something, and OFA Prime is praising him for that exact same thing, I think it’s safe to say that means he is in fact doing something very, very right.

“okay but makeste, he nearly got himself killed and broke all of his arms AND legs and is now lying in a fucking coma,” you say, gesturing emphatically to the last page of chapter 298. “so I mean, that’s all well and good that Wonder Boy has the best of intentions and all that, but at the end of the day he’s only one kid. he literally can’t save everyone, and if he pulls one or two more stunts like this, he’s going to get himself killed.”

and okay, but this here is the other talking point that I wanted to address. because it’s true, Deku does need to learn a specific lesson here. but that lesson is NOT that he can’t save everyone. this is a superhero story, guys -- “you can’t save everyone” is never going to be the underlying message, ever. it’s the OPPOSITE of the message. Deku is the hero because he tries to save everyone. because he doesn’t give up on saving people no matter what. that is literally the core of the story. it has been since the very first chapter.

so then what is it that Deku actually needs to learn here? well, once again, it all comes back to those parallels.

btw, I really just love how he’s carrying Katsuki there lol. he’s just so done with him.

but anyway. so, the final exam arc. Katsuki initially wants to win at all costs -- but there’s a hitch. because even though he wants to win, he refuses to do so while working with Deku. enter Deku’s left hook, and one impromptu Rival Encouragement Speech later, our boy has thankfully come to his senses.

but here’s the point -- the lesson here wasn’t “you can’t always win.” rather, the lesson that Katsuki needed to learn was that you can’t always win alone.

yeah. so now you can see what I’m getting at here.

“...on your own.”

that’s the key. this is the one and only thing that Deku actually needs to get into his head. wanting to save everyone is fine! his will to save others has never been a weakness -- it’s been the most admirable thing about him from day one. it’s what makes him strong. it’s why All Might chose him. it’s why OFA has chosen him. it’s what sets him apart, and I firmly believe it’s what will ultimately help him save the day and defeat AFO as well. because what other character would look at Shigaraki Tomura, the person who just impaled his friend and destroyed an entire city, and instinctively reach out a hand to try and save him? and if you don’t think that’s going to wind up being key to the final battle, you and I have very different ideas about this series’ endgame.

Deku’s determination to save everyone isn’t arrogance or futility. it is and always has been his greatest strength. but what he’s missing now, what he needs to learn, is simply to trust. y’all might have seen that theory about the Fourth’s quirk, and why All Might was so hesitant to tell Deku about it. basically, the theory (which is based on an attempted translation of the crossed-out parts of All Might’s OFA notebook) goes that the Spidey Sense was so overwhelming that the Fourth -- whose cause of death was one of the things crossed out -- eventually couldn’t bear it, and went to live alone in the middle of the woods somewhere. and possibly wound up killing himself?? all of which is just speculation right now of course. but it makes sense. and it would certainly explain why All Might, being all too aware of Deku’s self-destructive tendencies, would keep that from him.

but if this is the case, that means it’s clear that the Fourth’s solution didn’t work. “give up and accept that you can’t save everyone” clearly is NOT the answer to be had here.

the answer is trust. trust that his fellow heroes have his back. trust that they’ll be able to help him reach the people he’s not able to reach on his own. trust that they can work together to save everyone. that he doesn’t have to rest the entire world on his shoulders alone.

it’s the one lesson that All Might, his predecessor and his teacher, never learned himself until it was too late. but of course, All Might never had a prickly and determined rival who was ready to step in and deal out some tough love if need be. a rival who, perhaps, just might soon get a chance to repay an old favor.

“I don’t wanna hear you say you can’t save someone.”

I’m just saying. just as Deku has been watching Katsuki all this time, and admiring his determination to win, and emulating it himself, so has Katsuki recently begun to emulate Deku’s determination to save others. we’ve seen it not just in his recent act of self-sacrifice, but even in little things like his habits and tricks of speech. just like Katsuki is Deku’s image of victory, Deku is becoming Katsuki’s image of saving others.

and so I’ll bet you anything that if Deku ever starts to doubt himself, or starts feeling like his dream and desires are futile, Kacchan will be there to set him straight with a good old fashioned Rival Encouragement Speech of his own. possibly with his own left hook to match, though his left shoulder is currently out of sorts atm so he might need to modify that approach a little bit. but the point is, he’ll be there. and he will not allow Deku to give up on himself. he will be there to remind him that he doesn’t have to face this alone.

so yeah! finally managed to wrap up my giant Deku meta which I’ve been working on for ages and rewritten like fifteen times lmao. just in time for this to be relevant for all of a day, probably, depending on what happens once chapter 279 drops lol. but yeah. tl;dr, local boy tries to do too much, but his heart is in the right place, and hopefully all he really needs is a good pep talk from his tsundere bff to set him to rights again. r.i.p. to the Fourth, but he’s different.

[highdramas]

your song, vol. 1 | rockstar!bucky

𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

rockstar!bucky barnes x fem!reader, some slight peter parker x reader in later parts (unrequited)

word count: 2429

warnings: references to sex, language, references to drug and alcohol use in later parts, age gap, slow burn-ish

summary: it’s not summer without you. or, that’s what your favorite rockstar always says. it’s all happening.

it is the summer of 1978, and everyone calls you rhiannon, and it has never occurred to you to mind.

really, it was sort of nice. rhiannon is a daredevil. rhiannon goes on tour with bands. rhiannon inspires songs and reads tarot and knows how to light up a room with a smile. rhiannon gets asked if she’s, like, the rhiannon. the rhiannon who rings like a bell through the night.

you’re not. but you’re not going to tell them that.

and, sure, you know that you’re capable of all of these things-- but it’s different when they’re calling you rhiannon.

it’s different when he is calling you rhiannon.

you’ve become somewhat of a myth in the california rock ‘n roll scene. groupies have flocked to you-- and you have somewhat rejected the term. found it degrading, the way that rock stars and fans spoke about groupies. it had been your personal mission during the summer of 1977 to change the way that men in rock spoke about women.

the summer that you met bucky barnes.

really, it wasn’t bucky that you had set your eyes on initially. initially, you’d shown up with his friend, steve rogers, the drummer. you and your group of band aids (you were still coining the name) had an in backstage and the second you had seen steve, you were a bit smitten. he wasn’t your typical rockstar. there was something kind about him, something genuine. he looked at you less like he wanted to fuck you and more like he wanted to know you.

it wasn’t until later that you met bucky. later, once you set out on tour with them.

when you found out that steve had a girl back home and he was simply being kind to you, it had reminded you of your mission. your mission to show all of these men what exactly women had to contribute to music and its existing scene-- and that it was more than being a side piece. more than being a fun distraction on the road.

that was the moment that you swore you would not fall in love with a rockstar.

the hotel you all had checked into was absolutely lavish. it was extravagant and beautiful, high ceilings and marbled floors and the shiniest doorknobs that you’ve ever seen. it’s 3:30 in the morning and the girls-- america and kate being your favorite of the whole bunch-- are out with the guys at the bar. you’re sure that they’re requesting brooklyn songs-- later on, you’d give bucky shit for suggesting that their band name should just be brooklyn. you give steve even more shit for going along with it.

after the revelation with steve, normally, you’d be in the mood to party. but you feel like shit and you fell asleep wrong on the bus and your neck is killing you. you don’t want to be a vibe killer, so you tell the girls to go on without you and maybe you’ll catch up with them later.

instead, at some point, you pad down to the pool. there is one lone figure sitting by an illuminated neon sign. it’s only when you’re within feet that you realize that it’s bucky.

of all of the members of brooklyn, you’d gotten to know bucky the least in the past week that you’ve been on the road with them. steve, sam, and natasha were all nice-- nicer than nice. steve and sam especially, but you knew why.

natasha is nice-- direct and passionate about what she does. and what she does is sing. you always said that brooklyn would be nothing if it wasn’t for nat’s husky vocals and insane songwriting.

then there’s bucky. the guitarist.

kate has been touring with brooklyn awhile now-- went with them on the europe leg. now she’s with their manager, clint, and she seems to know all the gossip. when you asked what was up with bucky-- why he was so quiet, why he didn’t like to party with the others, kate had given you that thousand watt smile and said-- “alright, don’t tell anyone about this, ‘specially buck, but he’s sober. couple years now, from what i hear. it’s real hard for him, being on the road.”

then, your mouth had made a slight o, you had nodded your head, and kate shone like the light she is before dashing off to find clint.

you’re brought back to that conversation now, seeing him hunched over on a reclining chair. you see that he is hugging his legs, smoking a cigarette. a bottle of root beer sits beside him on the ground.

your feet are working before your brain is, and before you know it, you’re standing before him. if he notices your presence, he doesn’t act like it.

“got one to spare?”

that’s when he finally glances up at you. his face is mostly unreadable-- furrowed brows and a set jaw, long brunette hair that almost brushes his shoulders. he is quite handsome. he’s the kind of man that you think is built for moments like these-- sitting by pools, pink neon radiating off his face. the kind of handsome that is a little bit intimidating. not like steve, who is all softness and warm smiles.

you sink onto the pool chair beside bucky as he nods. he passes you a cigarette and you pop it between your lips. bucky’s zippo seems to come out of nowhere, and you watch as the end begins to burn, and you take your first drag of your first cigarette.

a coughing fit ensues. naturally. you hold it awkwardly between the fingers of your right hand and you cover your mouth with your left, hacking up your lungs. bucky’s brows furrow and it’s then, and only then, when the faintest hint of a smirk drags onto his features. “you alright?” his hand moves to your back and rubs in circles, pats it lightly, until you’re bleary eyed and looking over at him with a loud laugh.

it was natural after that.

where bucky was, it was safe to assume that you weren’t far behind. but it wasn’t like that. if anyone asked who you were with, you wore a proud expression and said with little hesitation, “myself.”

each time, bucky glanced between you and whatever sorry schmuck was in your path, and he shrugged his shoulders. “you heard her.”

things were easy with bucky. you had laid the ground rules that night, on the pool chaise. you had straightened your shoulders and you said, “i made the vow not to fall in love with anyone this summer.”

bucky had raised an eyebrow at you and watched as you took his root beer and took a long pull, his eyes fixating onto yours. “funny, so did i.”

the summer of 1977 was a dream.

but you had to wake up.

when you’re not rhiannon, you’re… you. you’re a student at oxford university on a full ride scholarship, studying political science, eventually law. you want to be the first woman president. you have bigger dreams and aspirations than being a band aid.

but you don’t mind slipping into your dream state between the months of may and september. you don’t mind one bit.

on the last night of tour, in nashville, you and bucky had spent the whole night in his room. you talked and you laughed, you laid together and you talked about school and he talked about recording the next album. you said how you wished you could be there for it, and he said how he’d like to see oxford.

that’s another thing about dreams.

when you’re in them, you can nearly believe that they can exist in the real world. but they can’t.

you and bucky had toed a very thin line for a long time. and you tumbled off of it together that night.

when you said your goodbyes in the airport the next morning, everyone else around as well, it seemed to suck any of the intimacy out of the room. you told him then that you always hated airports-- they reminded you of goodbyes.

bucky had shrugged, and said, “they remind me of hellos.”

you hugged. he kissed the corner of your mouth, the closest thing to an outright public display of affection as you two would get. and you left. you went back to real life.

but now, it is 1978. and it is the summer before your senior year of college, and you are backstage at the bee gees at the forum. and brooklyn is opening.

of course you knew that you would see him. he had written you letters over the course of the past year, like a gentleman. you’d tucked them away in your hat box and wrote back about your studies and your roommates. and at the end of the last letter you sent, you wrote: hope you wrote that song about me. xx

you didn’t tell him you were going on the road this summer. you’d been in touch with kate and met up in beverly hills with her. she told you about how she and clint had moved in together in new york and you sipped coffee and went with her as she shopped at places that were far out of your budget. and then you’d met up with clint and he got you your pass.

and now you’re here, with a packed duffel.

it’s a wonder you haven’t run into him yet. there’s a part of you that hopes he doesn’t know-- that he’s going to come out here and see you and that the air is going to be knocked from him as he takes in the visage of you.

beginning to grow anxious, you throw yourself into a chair backstage in a huff. a boy who must be around your age is sitting on the arm of it, and looks down at you curiously. “you alright?”

“never better,” you say and inspect your nail. “you seen the band?”

“who, bee gees? nah, haven’t had a chance--”

“no. brooklyn.”

“oh.” he goes quiet and nods his head. “i got a chance to talk to ‘em just now. i’m trying to do a piece on them.”

your jaw slacks a bit and you nod your head. “oh.” a journalist. of course he is. “how exciting for you.”

“yeah, it’ll be my first real piece. i’ve written some stuff for my college paper, but nothing like this. i can’t believe i even got in. i met this girl gwen and she found me a pass.”

“gwen’s a real keeper,” you say and you wink. your words are honest. you like gwen. “what’s your name, kid?”

“peter parker.”

you stick your hand out. “nice to meet you, peter parker.”

he shakes it and he raises his eyebrows at you, as if waiting for an introduction on your end. “and you are…” he finally begins.

“that’s rhiannon.”

the voice jars you. you don’t dare look behind you, but you already know who it is. you feel large hands on your shoulders and it takes every ounce of pride and self worth inside of you not to let your body erupt into shivers. “she’s the heart of brooklyn.”

a scoff passes your lips and you tip your head back, and you’re not disappointed by what you see. you never are. “you’re always so dramatic,” you coo. your attention shifts back to peter, but your skin is buzzing where bucky touches you, and you have nearly ten months worth of time to catch up on with him. “it was nice meeting you, peter parker.”

subtlety is not your strong suit, and peter must gather that, because he scrambles to get his things and scurry off. you give a slight wave and make a mental note that you’d like to get to know him if he sticks around. “nice kid,” you say.

“don’t want to talk about him.”

you can’t help yourself now. a giddy squeal bursts from your lips and you turn and you fling yourself at him. you’re all arms and legs flailing, clutching to him, and he holds you just as tight. there’s that sort of husky, low laugh that leaves him, and you remember it from that night that you wanted to impress him by smoking a cigarette. “hey, rhi.”

“hi,” your voice is muffled in his neck. you don’t care who’s watching, you don’t care what they whisper— for the first time, you don’t care if they assume you’re going to go back to bucky’s room and fuck him stupid. you care that he’s here. that’s bigger than your pride.

“didn’t tell me you’d be comin’. had to hear from kate.”

“yeah, well...” you pull back and look up at him, hands resting on his shoulders. his find your hips and pull you in. “i wanted to surprise you. am i a happy surprise?”

bucky is the kind of person who thinks before he speaks, but also, you believe that he thinks before he emotes. there’s a beat before he’s licking his lips, nodding his head. “nah. it’s gonna be such a drag having my girl on the road with me.”

my girl.

you squint at him and push him away right in his chest, and he gapes, rubbing it and feigning hurt. “don’t pull that,” you point at him. “same rules as last summer, alright? we— we went over this.”

exasperated, bucky sighs, head lolling to the side. “yes ma’am.”

ten months ago bucky told you he was in love with you.

ten months ago bucky told you he’d follow you all over the world.

ten months ago you agreed that it was a horrible idea, and that your friendship was too vital, too real, too special to risk messing it up.

ten months later, you’re hoping you won’t regret this decision.

you can see the disappointment in his face. gently, you touch the side of his face and you smile a bit. “in another life.” those were the words you had said to him, all those nights ago.

bucky’s face breaks your heart over and over again. he gives you that gentle but sad look-- the look of a man who has what he wants right within arms reach, but knows that he cannot fully grasp. knows that he cannot fully keep.

“i’ll have you any way you want me,” is all he finally says. “‘s not summer without you.”

you’d made a promise to him that night. you had told him you weren’t going to fall in love with anyone in the summer of 1977.

but it is the summer of 1978. and this is the story of how you fall in love with bucky barnes.

[redwinterroses]

I’m doing my very best not to format this as a literary analysis paper but that’s basically what this is so forgive me if I slip back into those old habits at all. And I'm going to tag @betweenlands and @fluffy-papaya in this because guys look what your fic made me brainrot. XD

(This is a long one, y'all. We're talking 2k words. Sorry.)

That said:

Hey, let’s talk about the bead curtain in Dog at the Door.

That dang bead curtain, and why I’m currently fixating on it, and how I think it has symbolism that may or may not be intentional.

(At this point, I’m assuming it’s intentional. Everything about this fic is intentional. Including the pain. Heh. “The only difference between a running gag and a recurring theme is how seriously you take it,” says Solar. Cool. I’m taking it seriously.)

The curtain first shows up in chapter one. It’s one of the first things we see in the van, and the first thing we know about it is that Doc finds it obnoxious. Ugly. Revolting. Renbob loves it, obviously, but Renbob has odd tastes. Doc, on the other hand, literally uses his hatred of the curtain to motivate him to get out of bed in the morning.

The Red King, when he shows up, also has similar dislike of the thing, but his reaction is a little more measured, a little less extreme. More distaste, less disgust. He finds it “distasteful” and compares it to wearing a labcoat without a shirt (lol). But he doesn’t loath it like Doc does, and when Doc suggests (in chapter 13) that they take it down and use it for friendship bracelets, he’s as displeased with that idea as Renbob is. He has an ambivalent opinion, overall.

And then Ren. Ren actually reacts the least to the curtain—but ends up with the most dramatic interaction with it, which we’ll come back to in a second. He simply says (chapter 24) that normally he’d find the beads hideous, but that the light of Doc’s eye reflecting off it into the shadows makes it oddly peaceful.

There’s exactly one other use of the word “curtain” in this fic, and it’s this line right here:

“I haven’t done anything but possess him and lead his soul back to the controls.” RK throws his hands up in the air. “He’s put himself behind the curtain because he thinks I’m out to get him. My only crime is the original contract I made with him, doctor.”

In this instance, RK is talking about their “imperfect metaphor” of Ren being behind the curtain that separates the “driver’s seat” from the rest of the van that is Ren’s mind/soul. He’s saying that Ren has deliberately put himself in a position of defeat and surrender because he (Ren) doesn’t think there are any other options.

M’kay. Right about now, any sane person is going, “Red. Why are you so fixated on this bead curtain. It’s a running joke at best.”

And... I mean, sure. Kinda. But also definitely not.

This is the part where I really step out on a potentially-shaky limb with all the confidence in the world, because here’s what I'm seeing: the dividing line between life and death is often portrayed in literature as a curtain.

(And it’s interesting to note that the curtain is a barrier, a separation, but it’s only a curtain, and this one is made of beads at that. It’s a flimsy and fluid barrier, easy to pass through. Back and forth. Surrender and control, life and death.)

In fact, even in this fic it’s used that way: RK may be referring to the metaphorical bead curtain in their van of an explanation for how his and Ren’s relationship works, but in the story at that point Ren is convinced that he’s dead. Or is supposed to be dead. And by putting himself “behind the curtain,” he’s surrendering to that. Almost insisting on it, because that’s the truth of how he sees the world right then and he can’t process any other possibilities. He’s basically saying “I’m supposed to be dead, and this side of the curtain is death, so that’s where I’ll stay.”

So if the curtain in the metaphor represents the two sides of that, it’s really interesting to look at the various characters’ reactions to the literal bead curtain and see how it reflects their attitudes toward death—and specifically Ren’s death.

Renbob is... chill. He has an entirely comfortable relationship with the bead curtain, with life and death, with his own emotions—even with dealing with the emotions of the others he’s chauffeuring across the universe. While he isn’t immune to the grief of losing (or thinking he’s lost) Ren, he deals with it in a relatively healthy way—at least as much as we see. I think there was a possibly-canon ask at some point that said he was journaling and meditating so... yeah. Renbob’s got this. And 50 other bead curtains in storage. He’s the only character in the fic who passes in and out of the curtain regularly and without it being a big deal.

To put it simply: Renbob is on good terms with whatever happens in life, up to and including the end of it. (Renbob is arguably the equal and opposite of Grimdog. Two sides of the same coin in more ways than one.)

Contrast that now with Doc. Doc is... not a fan of the bead curtain. It represents a loss of control to him, (“freakin’ hippies”) and a separation from what he loves. In the past, he and Ren were on opposite sides of that conflict, and the beads still somewhat represent that tension (though in a mostly nostalgic, and not actively-antagonistic way.) But the language Doc’s narration uses to describe the beads is strong. “Obnoxious.” “Accursed.” “Horrendously evil.”

Nearly as scary as his best friend trying to kill him.

It’s played for laughs, obviously, and it is funny. But if we project the symbolism of “the curtain represents death” onto Doc’s reactions, it gets a bit less amusing. And it really fits with Doc’s attitude toward Ren’s death in the whole fic. It’s the worst thing he’s ever faced—to the extent that until RK’s seemingly-permanent presence forces him to, Doc doesn’t even try to process it. He goes right to work on the prosthetics, growls at anyone who tries to make him do anything he doesn't want to do, accepts RK as “New Ren,” and pretends that he’s going on with life.

He refuses to look at how weird the whole situation is, because if he does that he has to deal with Ren being gone forever. He ignores the thing that’s right under his nose and pretends it’s not there until a moment of quiet or actually having to interact with it brings it back to his attention, and then his reaction is vitriolic.

Doc hates that curtain, and he hates the concept of death, the concept of losing control. Even in his nightmares, he holds tight to what little control he can take, even if it’s just taking the initiative to sit in the snow and let it kill him faster. Hold onto that thought, because I’ve got more to it, but we have to talk about RK and Ren first.

RK holds both distaste and acceptance of the curtain. He doesn’t like it, but he doesn’t want it destroyed either. The distaste, notably, is when he’s with Doc, and the acceptance comes from being around Renbob. The Red King, as a blood god, is not exactly unfamiliar with death. It’s literally in his job description, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it. A necessary evil, if you will.

It doesn’t hurt either that, at least up until Ren, RK has always been the one on the other side of the curtain, completely in control of the situation. He goes back and forth on his attitudes, but in the past he has been the one in control and the bringer of death. His reaction is negative, but not emphatic—the way someone who has plenty of indoor plans might react to a rainstorm.

Ren... now, Ren. Ren has, like I said, the least recorded reaction to the actual, physical bead curtain. But. But. While he normally would call it hideous, “there’s something oddly peaceful about watching light fractals spin off the walls, cutting off into the shadows.” The shadows, it’s worth noticing, are specifically implied to be RK/hiding RK in this moment. Doc’s light and RK’s shadows interacting with the curtain bring peace to Ren. He passes through it easily to find Renbob.

Ren has already accepted his death—he accepted it long before the fic even started—to an extent that he’s actively insisting on it for a large portion of the story. It’s only when he realizes that Doc is in potential danger that he starts fighting RK for control of the situation again. (“Stay away from Doc, you bastard. He wasn’t part of our bargain. Leave him alone.”)

He dislikes the bead curtain, but he doesn’t hate it, and when seen in the (literal) light of Doc’s protective, watching eye—even if he is asleep at the moment, bless—even the shadows of RK’s presence are suddenly beautiful and peaceful to him in a way that, without the “reflecting fractals” of the beads, wouldn’t be possible. Again: this is the chapter where Renbob’s influence is felt, and his peace with life and death directly affects Ren and his reactions. (“It’ll all sort itself out, eventually, and I’ll be here for you while it does.”)

And then...

And then Ren rips down the curtain altogether.

The separation is gone. For better or for worse, that divide between control and surrender, between RK and Ren, between life and death... it’s gone. It’s scattered across the floor of the van, glittering in Ren’s hair, and in the carpet. Ren has broken through that barrier, and now we just have to wait to see what the consequences of that are for him.

But... we can already see at least one consequence for Doc. Because now there is no more illusion of control and surrender for him to maintain. That division is no longer there, and we see Doc’s first real surrender in the whole story. Even in his nightmares, he was still in control: he knew it was a nightmare, and he fought against it until he “gave up”—in a way that still put him in control. He chooses to sit in the snow so it’ll kill dream-him faster.

He acts like he doesn’t care, but it’s still not that: he takes control in the only way he knows, aware that everything is only a dream and no matter what how it treats him, he’ll still wake up in the end. He looks at the nightmare and says basically “Do your worst, I dare you, but you won’t get what you want from me.”

But now—now he surrenders to Ren. He gives up. His core truth (“I’ll do anything to protect those I love,” which I talked about in this post) looks like it’s not going to be enough to save them. He can’t save Ren—from RK or from Ren himself—and that means he’s lost in the worst way possible. In this moment, it looks like Ren doesn’t even trust that Doc’s core truth—that he will do anything to save his friends—is true.

This is Doc’s lowest point: that Ren seems to think Doc’s loyalty and love have failed. And to Doc... that’s a fate worse than death.

So he gives up. He tells Ren to kill him, and he fully expects him to do so. Doc doesn’t want to die, but at this point he has completely let go of any control of his own fate. Even when facing down Ren with the Skizz blade, he held tightly to his control of the situation. He literally takes the sword in his own hand and removes it as a threat. But now—now the curtain is gone. The illusion of control is gone.

Ren is the one in control of the situation—for possibly the first time in the fic—and he chooses to remember that Doc is his friend, that he’s missed him. But Doc leaves it all to him. Even when Ren backs off, Doc stays in that surrendered state (“I can’t do anything right, unlike [Martyn.]”). He realizes that he's been in the passenger seat the whole time, and he’s now where Ren was before: no longer even trying to take back the driver’s seat.

The curtain is gone. Now we just have to wait and see who ends up on which side of it at the end.

[yanderegremlin]

May I request General Yandere Hcs for Dr. Genus only if ur comfortable with it of course, no pressure to do this either

Of course!! Thank you for your request! sorry this took me so long but I hope you like it.

Warning: Yandere behavior, delusional, non-edited.

~~~~~~~~~~~

What kind of yandere Dr. Genus would highly depend on when you meet him or when he becomes yandere for you, before or after Saitama.

Let’s talk about the latter first, Dr. Genus has to start to put his life back together but this time he has no fixation or long term plans besides getting a job and working. I can see him wanting just a normal life, one he can enjoy and relax, but he just does know how to, not until he meets you. 

You showed how to, even in the ruff times. It’s hard for him not to fixate on you, your smile, your jokes, the way you treat him and others. others … he tries not to get jealous, he doesn’t want to snap back into the madness he tried so hard to get out of, but you're just so perfect to him, close to perfect you can get naturally at least. 

He would eventually confess to you. If you do it well there's no going back now, you are stuck with this man until the day you both die, but if you reject him and his confession. Well you will see it HIS way soon enough and if that doesn’t work he does have the Armored Gorilla at home. 

Now let’s talk about the former, this guy is delusional as you can get. How ever you met it didn’t matter, what did matter was that you were the first person that listened to him and didn’t call him, Insane, crazy, or out of his mind. You actually said it was interesting and revolutionary. How so many lives would be saved just if people couldn’t get sick or hurt themselves. 

It didn’t matter if you were a doctor or not, he wanted you in on it, he wanted you. He didn’t realize it at first, but he loved you from that moment onward, in his mind you are his. Now and forever, don’t even think about running away because not even death can tear you two apart at this point. 

If their is any spilling or grammar mistakes please let me know.

thank you for reading! 

[autisticandroids]

"Emotional in*est"- Do you even hear yourself? There's no such thing as emotional in*est. Just say you're a win*est shipper and go. I hate how freaks like you always try to grasp at straws to seem all "intellectual", when you're nothing but a freak who faps to things like ped*philia, best*ality and in*est. THAT'S why Jensen hates shippers. You don't want to see a positive queer relationship, you just want to read about Jensen getting fu*ked no matter who or WHAT it is. You're disgusting

now, i want to be clear, i received this ask at 2:46 am, about an hour after posting this answer. i want you to read that linked post. it’s a discussion of familial abuse. specifically, anon was talking about how upsetting they found the nature of trauma in supernatural - how none of the characters ever break the cycle. they mention how i had talked about sam and dean as a potentially emotionally incestuous relationship as something they found relatable to their own situation of familial abuse. i responded by agreeing that it’s upsetting that supernatural did that, and trying to comfort them a bit.

this anon saw that, and immediately not only accused me of incest fetishism, but sent similar anons to my mutuals.

@steveyockey messaged me this anon that he received, seemingly at about the same time i did. it’s clearly the same person. now, i love ziz, but we don’t have a significant public relationship. we don’t, say, talk about each other in posts or tags. i think i’ve mentioned her once. i reblog a lot of his posts and he reblogs a few of mine, but i have many other much more obvious public relationships, some of them with other BNFs like ziz. i expect that as they start to wake up, they too will notice that they’ve received anons like this.

all of this over explicitly talking about the familial abuse dynamics legible in supernatural, a show whose perhaps most persistent theme is toxic and abusive family dynamics.

the obsessive moral panic over the existence of wincest is fascinating to me, especially coming from destiel shippers. i’ve discussed in the past how i personally don’t think there’s anything wrong with people shipping wincest, as long as they do it far away from me, because i find incest gross and don’t want to hear about it. 

sam and dean have a dynamic in the text of the show that you could reasonably read as emotionally incestuous - they fill the role traditionally filled by a romantic partner. this is emphasized by the fact that when sam tries to escape dean, which he does with some regularity until season eight, which is when he just gives up, he always immediately finds a romantic partner, and is then eventually dragged away from her by dean. sam knows, on some level, that in order to escape dean, which he wants to do, he needs to replace dean in his life with someone else, in order to make it more difficult for dean to reclaim that role by force. 

this stuff is all in the text of the show, with not that much interpretation. it’s a pretty solid depiction of cycles of familial trauma and abuse. john parentifies dean (which is a form of abuse related to covert incest), dean turns around and does covert incest to sam. 

when i’m analyzing supernatural seriously, one of the things that interests me the most is the theme of familial abuse. this interpretation inevitably comes up when i’m discussing that, because it’s an intensely plausible interpretation of the text. the fact that i immediately get accused of being an incest fetishist (and a pedophile and zoophile?) for mentioning it seems to indicate that there is, frankly, something wrong in the destiel fandom.

but frankly, i don’t like this defense of myself. it’s a little too “no, not me! you have the wrong witch!” for my tastes.

even if i were an incest fetishist, it is intensely creepy to me that not only did i get an angry message about it, other people did as well. the wave of purity politics that has overtaken fandom spaces is intensely unsettling to me, especially the anti-sex bent that it’s taken in recent years. 

when i was a teenager, there was still a very damaging purity culture in tumblr fandom, but it was around social justice - how do you be the least racist, least sexist, least transphobic, least homophobic, least ableist person, and so on. this culture was intensely damaging to me, psychologically, exacerbating already present obsessive compulsive and other anxious tendencies, but at least i agreed with the basic project: i do think it’s good for people to try to become less racist, less sexist, less homophobic, less transphobic, less ableist. i think that participating in a terrifying, abusive purity cult is a bad, damaging, and ineffective-in-the-long-term way to do that, but i think the intent is in the right place. 

however, because of certain changes in online culture, that kind of social justice has kind of become “cringe” and therefore fallen apart. like, it’s still present, but far less strong than it used to be. but the purity cult has remained, only now it’s explicitly only about sex. people will try and hunt down the most deviant expression of sexuality they can find, and put that on trial. it doesn’t matter what that sexuality is. i am frequently on record as saying that if wincest didn’t exist, destiel would be considered the irredeemably problematic ship of the supernatural fandom, and in fact i’m constantly surprised that i, personally, have never been cancelled for romanticizing abuse, something which i try not to do, but walk a pretty fine line on. but no one cares about the toxicity of destiel because rather than having a sensible barometer of reasonable behavior, everyone is simply fixated on finding and persecuting the most deviant option available. thus, since destiel is by comparison less deviant than wincest, it’s fine. 

but this culture doesn’t actually have anything to do with, like i said, a sensible barometer of reasonable behavior. it just goes for the most deviant option available. the same culture that comes for wincest shippers is the culture that comes for, i don’t know, people who ship the wrong she-ra ships. as you can probably tell, it’s been a while since i’ve been in a giant fandom full of youngsters. it’s not actually about the specific morality of shipping wincest, it’s about asking “who is it okay for me to hurt” and finding the most deviant people available for an answer. 

this is why they reached so hard to try and accuse me of being a wincest shipper. they wanted to bully someone, or perhaps they had a problem with me (though given that they don’t seem to have searched my blog, because if they had they would have found better ammunition, i suspect it’s the former), and so they accused me of shipping wincest - the worst possible accusation, an accusation that makes it okay to accuse me of anything and do whatever they like to me. 

like, you, The Girl (GN) Reading This, should be creeped out by this behavior. no matter what your opinion of wincest. even if you post “wincesties die” every day. because you will more than likely at some point in your life find yourself on the wrong end of this culture, for something which you consider totally innocuous. that, or perhaps you will be coerced into participating in some kind of bullying campaign, which is traumatizing in its own sense - even if you enjoy it at the time, it’s likely you will grow to regret it. hurting other people sucks.

i’m going to bed and i’m going to leave this as my last post until i wake up in like, four hours, so as many people can read it as possible. i would love for people to think about the kind of fan culture they’re participating in where not only me but people i interact with get sent these kinds of messages.

i don’t know, i feel like this *checks notes* fifteen hundred word essay i’ve written is a touch pearl-clutchy. anon hate is something normal on the internet. i get it about once a week, and normally i respond with jokes. some people are just assholes. i’m unusually sensitive about this kind of thing because like i said, i’ve had some formatively bad experiences with social justice purity politics. i also put a lot of value on having my cards on the table - if someone is going to get mad at me for saying “i don’t think wincesties should die” i would like them to get mad now, and not wait until i trip over a landmine. so those things were definitely part of the reason i wanted to write this.

but in this case, this person who decided to be an asshole was also sending messages about me to other people i know, which is creepy in and of itself, but also: i don’t necessarily trust the people i know in this fandom not to decide to shun me on the strength of an anonymous accusation of wincest shipping. that’s how strong the purity culture is in this fandom in specific. and i personally find that incredibly distasteful. like, you’re gay people aren’t you? you’re aware that mainstream society will always consider you sexual deviants no matter how respectable you are? yes? like this person wants to intentionally destroy my social connections and reputation. which is much more threatening than just saying nasty shit to me on anon.

[nohoney]

Tell Me (When You’re Ready) - 4.1

notes: Part 4 of the Us Series also on ao3

Us Series Masterlist

warnings: 18+, drug use, polyamory, low key manipulation, toxic relationships, cheating

summary:

He’s never been involved with anyone else the way he’s been with you, you’re all he thinks about and wants to have. It’s more than just liking you, this instinct to care for you, this obsession and desire he feels over you, he calls it love, it must be love. 

4.1 ✧ 4.2 ✧ 4.3 ✧ 4.4

At first glance, Touya didn’t really think much of you the first time he had seen you.

You were just another random party goer to him, one of many he saw whenever he attended those kinds of things, easier to just sell to his clientele if they conglomerated in these kinds of functions, though with the slightly older ones they have to blend in better since they’re technically crashing a house party. University students, upcoming freshmeat, recently graduated alumni and some of their plus ones or more, it’s so easy to tell who the veterans are versus the greenhorns.

The ones who can hold themselves together versus the ones that need to be carried, the ones who can hold there liquor versus the ones that need to be babysat, the strong versus the weak.

And you were that in between, walking around cross faded with eyes that looked lost in space but when someone put a hand on your shoulder then you would come back to earth, but not with your feet touching the ground. Like your feet just barely skimming the surface but still wanting to float in the sky, streaming through a pleasant haze just a bit longer until the high ends and you’ll have no choice until it’s time to walk amongst the animals again.

You sat on the couch with a few girls, talking amongst themselves and no doubt grouped together to protect one another from the predators; who could resist drunk and weak girls, especially the ones who looked the most broken. The eyes of the boys on your group and hoping to try to break into the circle and pick off the weakest to break away the pack. They get especially eager when the group wants to drink more, but you and two friends decide to go outside to smoke a joint instead.

“I’m drunk, I need’a go outside.”

The first words he ever heard you say, though not the first he’s heard but it sounded cute the way you slurred them out.

His eyes followed you briefly, holding hands with a friend as you made your way to get to the outside for a smoke.

“Yo Dabi! Good to see you man!”

He passed discreet little baggies, pink and blue tablets, little pills, he always gets a pat on the back from the boys and winks from the girls.

The girls like him, more than a few offering a little something extra when he makes a successful sale. Two of his whores are at this party, the decent flings he goes back to every so often when he wants to get his dick wet and when they want his goods.

Good dick and good drugs, it’s nice to get a two for one sale.

The second time he sees you at the party, he’s just leaving a room and fixing his belt while you sit at the top of the stairs with a friend. You and your friend are engrossed in your conversation, more than likely a similar talk happening somewhere inside the house party because you talked about your regrets of the way you and your ex broke it off, just more drunk girl talk. “It was so… so fuckin’ stupid dude, I was drunk and he showed up. We fucked but whe’ I woke up the next day, I fuckin’ left and just didn’t talk to him again.”

The second thing he ever heard you say but Touya literally passed by three girls half an hour ago that had a similar conversation, yours was nothing special.

Touya always denies drinks, offers of lines and other things when he goes to these kinds of functions, he needs a clear mind when he deals. He’s not dumb as fuck when he’s high or when he’s on, he can handle himself quite well and could sell just as well even if he were, he just doesn’t want to be relaxed around people that he doesn’t know that well or trust. It would have been nice if Keigo tagged along but the fucker’s Adderall hadn’t worn off in time to accompany him. Keigo gives him a good break from the others, kinda resets him and then he goes back to his business.

But Keigo isn’t around so Touya settles for plowing girls in random rooms of the house to give him a brief recess and then he’s back out there.

The third time he sees you, you’re leaning against the body of a young man just a little taller than Touya but nothing in the way he holds you shows that he has any ill intentions towards you. It feels rare sometimes to see two people having a platonic friendship, especially between two people of the opposite sex. Touya’s already sold your friend whatever he wanted but sticks around to make conversation, though it’s an excuse because he can’t help but note the way you’re being held in your friend’s arms. He tries to not make it obvious as he talks but truthfully, Touya wanted to just look at you. It’s obvious that there’s nothing romantic in the way your friend holds you but for some reason, it doesn’t sit well with him.

Even with his eyes up on your friend, he can see how you cling to your friend’s body with your arms wrapped around him so securely and with so much trust. Touya notes how you’re practically purring as your friend pets your head, sometimes massaging the tips of his fingertips against your scalp and then rubbing your shoulder in comfort. And he can see how you peeked up at him a few times, your curious eyes on him but Touya recognizes the cloudy way you look up at him. It’s not out of interest in the way you looked at him but probably just wondering why he was around.

Eventually you stop looking at him and choose to shut your eyes, concentrating on your friend petting your head instead.

“You want to try anything (Name)? Dabi’s got the best shit I’ve ever had, pretty fucking primo.” your friend had offered but you shook your head and said no. And goddamn if it wasn’t the cutest no that Touya’s ever heard in his life, the third thing he's ever heard you say. “Girl’s been pretty curious about wanting to try coke but she hasn’t worked up the nerve to actually give it a try. You know what, lemme buy a half off you too and maybe this’ll be the night that she finally gives it a try.”

Touya went home wondering if you lost your cocaine virginity that night.

That question wouldn’t be answered until a couple month’s later after you and him shared a philosophy class together. Touya remembered you very clearly but for some reason, his gut twists a little when you spoke to him the first time and it’s clear that you didn’t remember him from the party. He decides to forgive you for not remembering him because he feels like he can’t stay mad at you, not with that cute face you have.

But it’s just like at the party, you don’t seem particularly interested in him but Touya’s interested in you so he decides to seek you out more. He starts to crave your attention but he doesn’t want to look like a fool if it’s a one-sided attraction so he lays the charm on you, calls you pretty names that he’s never used on other girls. At first Touya thinks that you can just be girl number nine, hopefully another easy hole for him to use when he has an itch to scratch.

Now Touya’s fucked a lot of girls. He’s taken innocent girls virginities before and he’s had some pretty wild sex with the campus sluts, but there’s something different about you. You’re not a prude, not in the way you flirt back and insinuate wanting to take a seat on his face sometimes, but you’ve got some untouched parts of you that he wanted to lay a claim on. He’d show you new things and hold your hand over what you’d be too scared to do on your own or with others, he’ll watch over you. Imagine his giddiness the first time he ever cut lines of coke for you, it turned out that your cocaine virginity belonged to him this entire time.

"Oh... it's not that bad!"

You took that line so good, how about you take my cock next?

You tease him, playing coy one moment and then acting like nothing happened next.

And normally with bitches that do that shit with him for too long, Touya drops them pretty fast and moves on to the next. A little flirting and teasing is fine but he’s not looking to play a long term game with that kind of bullshit, it’s either happening or it’s not.

But with you it’s different.

You’re different.

Touya starts to obsess over you so slowly that he doesn’t even recognize it at first. All he knows is that he has to have you, he ghosts four of his whores in favor of being with you even though there wasn’t a guarantee that he would get in your pants. He just dropped the ones that he sought for sex only, the other half are still his clientele so he keeps those ones around, plus they're still decent lays. Keigo notices it, the way his friend talks over some girl that he hasn’t even fucked yet and letting go of four of his side whores has him thinking, ‘Wow, she must be something to get Touya’s attention this bad.’

The semester starts to come to an end and he still hasn’t bagged you yet, he calls you his doll but you haven’t let him play with you. He places one of his whores face down and ass up after she does a few lines, imagines that it’s you underneath him and what you might sound like and its your ass he’s grabbing. Touya can imagine it, you weak underneath him and begging for his cock but when the bitch under him whines out ‘Dabi’, he almost loses his boner. He tells her to shut the fuck up and bite the pillow, doesn’t want to hear her stupid sounds because he wants to envision you instead.

But even imagining you calling him Dabi feels wrong, Touya rolling off your pretty lips as he paints your insides white… it blows him over the edge.

In his mind that’s what he wants, but you don’t get the right to call him by his real name. He doesn’t know you like that so you’re just like everyone else for now, referring to him as Dabi. At some point he figures that this fixation he has on you will burn out soon. And yet Touya finds himself drawn further to you, wanting you more and more, doesn’t want you to wander too far away from him and wants to know who you’re with when he’s not by your side.

And he wanted to fuck you too, so fucking bad.

His first try was with a night cap at his place, the first time Touya ever had a girl over in his space. But it seems you know your limitation on alcohol and don’t let him pour you an extra drop, wanting to be able to drive yourself home and be in decent shape for your lectures. He smokes you up one day and it goes in a good direction, you were relaxed and sending him some good signals that lead to the two of you making out. It didn’t go further because he got a phone call from his mother that he couldn’t possibly ignore, but you thought ‘Oh a mama’s boy, that’s so sweet.’

It’s the third time that he finally gets you, playing music in his car that gets you in the mood and that gets you naked in his backseat. He doesn’t know what made you ready all of a sudden but he didn’t stop to ask as you fervently sucked him off. You were more riled up than him, so excited to get his dick and that eager look in your eye when you commanded him to blow your back out. And he sure did not disappoint, he never disappoints when it comes to his dick.

And a relationship persists forward to the surprise of both of you, liking each other more than you thought you would but there were no labels yet, Touya wasn’t used to having a girlfriend so he didn’t want to call you that at first and you weren’t sure if you wanted him to be your boyfriend. Neither of you really spoke about what you were to one another despite the attraction and the lazy build of emotions that neither of you were aware of in the beginning. All Touya knew was that he wanted you to be around him more and be waiting for him when he returned back to his apartment.

It’s difficult to say when mutual attraction turned into the of you catching feelings for one another. You and Touya were hooking up for a couple of weeks after the end of the semester of the one class you shared together, and while he was aware that you were a little disgruntled at him fucking the girls he sells to, he didn’t think it was that big of a deal at the time. Didn’t he make it obvious that you’re different from them and that he only cared about you? So what if he got his dick wet from other girls aside from you? He’d been doing it before he started seeing you but he always came back to you afterwards, so why were you so pissed?

“It’s just business doll.”

It wasn’t official between the two of you yet so there wasn’t much you could say at the time. You just figured that if Touya liked you so much then he would stop and Touya figured that since you liked him just as much then you would understand.

But Touya remembers that night when he left to go sell at another house party, trying to spend time with you before he had to leave but you wouldn’t let him. He knew you were mad again because he just came back from selling to one of his whores which meant that, ‘Yes, she offered her pussy when I got there so we fucked.’ He honestly did not understand where your jealousy was coming from. You were there, sitting in his apartment and spending nights in his bed, he was doing shit with you that he’d never done with anyone else and you were still getting mad at him.

How did you not get that you were different from the rest of them?

But Touya wasn’t going to put more effort into making you feel better when you didn’t want to be cheered up, so he left to do his usual thing.

And when he came back to his apartment earlier than expected, which was only one in the morning, he found that your car was not in the guest parking and therefore you were not waiting for him inside his home. He tried ringing you to find out if you went back to your place but it went straight to voicemail so he goes to your home in hopes that you would have been there instead. But you’re not there when he arrives and you don’t answer his texts and phone calls still don’t go through."Fucking bitch! Where the hell are you?"

Touya can stay up until three in the morning at most if he’s not on anything but that night was the only night he had ever stayed up by just being angry alone. He was riled up and emotions all over the place, hands shaking so bad that he needed to punch something, almost considered putting his fist through his wall. He was fucking furious because he knows immediately that you went out to be with someone else, went to get fucked by some scum because you wanted to be a vindictive little cunt about what happened earlier.

He had practically barged into Keigo’s place and shook him awake in his bed because he didn’t know who to turn to.

“She’s out getting fucked. I fucking know she is!”

“Wha-? Touya…” Keigo groggily sat up in his bed and brushed off Touya's hands off his shoulders, blonde hair a mess from tossing and turning but he gives his friend his undivided attention. He hadn’t met you yet, had only seen pictures and nudes of you that Touya shared with him, but he’s pretty shocked over how outraged Touya is. He’d never seen his friend get so worked up over one girl before, so it speaks volumes to him to see Touya so unhinged. “What makes you say that? Maybe she’s out with friends or something. Just because she’s not back in her place doesn’t mean that she’s getting with another dude.”

But Touya’s gut said otherwise and he insisted that it was right.

“Okay man, I’m going to put some things in perspective for you. I don’t know this girl but it’s obvious that you’re into her… like a lot, but I can’t really blame her for going out to be with someone else if that’s what she’s doing right now. She can still go do what she wants just as much as you can. If you guys haven’t defined what you are to one another, especially with how you operate, then you don’t have much of a right to be telling her what to do.”

Touya was livid when you returned to your apartment, angry that you had the audacity to be so spiteful with him and furious at the thought of you underneath someone that wasn’t him. It fucking hurt him because he didn’t fuck the whores to make you angry, they didn’t mean anything to him compared to you. But in the aftermath of hatefucking turning into lovemaking, he still mulled over Keigo’s advice, deciding that maybe it would make you happy to call you his girlfriend if it meant that you wouldn’t go behind his back again. You're his favorite, his number one, his only one, if reassuring is what he has to do then he'll put up with it as long as he doesn't have to say it too often. And fine, if it really bugged you that much then he decided to make it fair by giving you permission to sleep with who you wanted provided that you always came back to him the same that he did with you.

Except that after he put it out there, he immediately regretted putting the offer out but knew that a fight would surely begin if he decided to take it back. Once again the thought of you being with someone else had got his teeth grinding and gave him anxiety. You’re his fucking girl, his precious doll that deserved to be put on a throne and be given whatever you wanted. Touya wanted nothing more than to protect you from assholes who didn’t appreciate you like your dumbass ex-boyfriend.

“(Name)’s really great, I’m glad the two of you are together. Though are you sure you’re okay with her seeing other guys too? I know you said it to be fair to her but I see you get bent out of shape if she’s even around just one of her guy friends.” Keigo puffed on cigarette, tapping some of the excess ash off the tip before returning the filter to his lips. “You really going to be okay if she decides to get picked up by another dude?”

Touya let out a frustrated sigh as he lit his third cigarette in a row; you’d be pissed if you found out but he was fortunate that you would be out for a few hours so he had time to clean away the evidence. “They’re gonna treat her like shit, I know the assholes out there would but if I take it back, she’s going to get pissed. She didn’t even fucking apologize for fucking someone else behind my back. I don’t want her to be used by someone else, she’s not a whore.”

“Correction, you mean she’s your whore.”

The only one who understood his way of thinking was Keigo.

There’s a night where you sleep in your own apartment while Touya and Keigo sit outside your complex, leaning against his car and just looking at the balcony that they know is attached to your place. A six pack of beer sits on the hood of the car, two slots empty as they each hold a bottle in their hand. Keigo quietly admits to him, “I think I might like (Name) Touya. Like I think I like her a lot, more than just wanting to fuck her and more than just as a friend.”

Touya quietly takes in Keigo’s confession and just nods his head, still looking up at your balcony and hoping that you’re sleeping well. He’s never been involved with anyone else the way he’s been with you, you’re all he thinks about and wants to have. It’s more than just liking you, this instinct to care for you, this obsession and desire he feels over you, he calls it love, it must be love. He hesitantly admits back, “… I think I love her.”

“Wow…”

“Yeah, wow…”

“You really think you love her?” Keigo asked after polishing off his first beer. “What about that whole arrangement thing? If you tell her you love her, she might question you since, you know, you’re still fucking other girls. If you love her then she’ll expect you to be monogamous with her.”

“If she still takes me up on that arrangement, I don’t think I can handle it. Only people who love her should be allowed to fuck her.” In other words, only he should be the only one to have you. No one else loves you like Touya does, he’ll fucking kill any asshole that thinks they can use you as their fucktoy. When Keigo asks again about the other girls, he growls at him and tosses his bottle onto the concrete. “I’m fucking working on that, alright. I just… don’t know how to fucking commit. It’s too fucking hard to do this by myself.”

Keigo just pops the cap off another bottle and hands it to Touya. “Would it help if I joined the relationship? I’m sure we can work something out with (Name), provided she’s willing.”

Touya would observe you and Keigo together, you oblivious to his friend’s flirtations at times and mistaking it as him just being very friendly. He could see golden eyes wandering down your body, already knowing what you looked like without any clothes and how pretty you look when you’re gagging on a dick because Touya’s shown him your nudes and recorded videos of you. Keigo can try to hide and put up a front that he’s just lusting over you but Touya can see that his friend has got that little lovestruck glint in his eyes when he looks at you; and honestly, he’s not even upset about it. The vision of you and Keigo together, it makes him comfortable rather than the anxiety he feels when he thinks about you with someone else. They obsess over you together, you blissfully unaware of how tortured Keigo was sometimes that he couldn’t plow his cock into you because you saw him as just a friend.

So he takes up Keigo's offer.

He was hoping that the transition to introduce Keigo into the relationship would go smoother, but it only comes up after a fight when he brings you with him to a house party for the first time.

God, Touya didn’t mean what he said to you that night when you and Keigo rolled together; he was just frustrated because he didn’t know what he could do to show you that you meant more to him than you knew. No matter how much he reassured you, you kept on letting your stupid insecurities get in the way!

“C’mon man, one minute you’re telling me you love her and now all of a sudden you’re breaking up with her?” Keigo scolds him, unaware that you leave the both of them behind and duck into the house.

“I’m not trying to break up with her! I’m just— fuck, she just doesn’t get that… fuck!”

He’s at a loss of words, he doesn’t want to be mad at you but you couldn’t get over your hangups over the side whores. They weren’t his other girlfriends, not his side bitches, or anything like that. Touya literally only sees them for probably twenty minutes max on the occasion they hit him up, nothing compared to all the time dedicated to you. They can claw at his dick however much they want, that’s all they want from him anyway aside from the pills and powders he sells to them. If it gets them to shut up then fine, but Touya will never spend a second longer with them when he’s finished using them. He doesn’t give a fuck if they whine about not cumming, he never promised them an orgasm when he gives the whores his cock.

He obsesses over you, not them; he cares for you, not them; he only wants you, not them.

Stop being jealous, it's just you!

Keigo finally talks him down but they realize that you’re not around.

Touya searches the outside perimeter of the house while Keigo searches inside. You’re rolling, barely able to take care of yourself and they have no idea where you are. All the worst case scenarios run through his head like you wandering into the night and getting kidnapped, hit by a car while walking down the road, he wonders if you’re still at the house and possibly getting raped because you can’t fight back if someone forces themselves on you. He drives himself crazy with his own imagination and you won’t answer your fucking phone!

To his relief Keigo informs him that he found you locked inside one of the bedrooms, having mixed cocaine, ecstasy, and alcohol because you were upset about what happened. He’s a veteran, Touya’s mixed plenty of times within his boundaries of tolerance but you’ve never done it before so he worries instantly for your wellbeing. The only thing that he can think of what to do to help you is to bring you a fresh bottle of water, you’re probably dehydrated as hell.

He feels awkward as hell when he arrives to the room, standing off to the side as Keigo fusses over you. He’s able to comfort you with the right words in your state of mind, adding in kisses and sweet caresses to your body to help calm you, something that Touya feels unable to do at the moment. But Keigo fixes you up and nods for him to approach you, a little hurt that you whine for Keigo to stay.

But he has to admit his mistake, that he should have been more attentive to you when he brought you with him, even if he trusted Keigo to look over you the entire time. You’re upset, of course you’re upset with him, and he doesn’t want you to be mad at him anymore. So he decides to give you a right he should have bestowed to you a long time ago, you’re not allowed to call him Dabi anymore. It’s the only way he knows to make it up to you and show you that you’re important to him.

Don’t be mad at me anymore babydoll, I’m yours.

You’re a stubborn little thing at first, still insisting on calling him Dabi but he made you come around. His name falling from your lips just sounds so perfect, it sounds right as you choke up on pleasure and come undone with a scream of his name.

Touya imagines that night you went behind his back because you were mad at him, freezing for just a quick moment that you would do the same thing the next time you became angry with him, except now he had given you full permission. You hadn’t taken advantage of the arrangement and didn’t seek anyone out so far, he’s thankful for that, but he has to lock down Keigo into the relationship so that he can secure you.

Touya literally walked out of the house earlier to find you and Keigo making out, surely you can’t believe you can do that on ecstasy and still believe that everything is platonic. He has to put the truth out there, you deserve to know it, no one else would treat you so good like they would.

“He thinks you’re adorable. I talk about your pussy all the time with him. How fucking cute it is, how tight it gets when you get choked, and when you cum all over yourself. He wants to fuck you open so bad.”

“Touya, don’t say that! He’s just a friend!”

“A friend who wants to fuck you.”

He probably could have been more eloquent with his words but he gets his point across to you regardless.

“I gave you permission to fuck who you want doll, Keigo is not the worst person you could choose. In fact, I’d like it if he were the one to keep you warm for me.”

And he can see how realization hits you, Keigo further supporting the claim by coming onto you as well. What you used to perceive his actions as friendly, you thought otherwise now. It’s a truth that you can’t unlearn now that he’s put it out there, but he hopes that you fucking take the bait. If you reject Keigo coming into the relationship, he truly won’t be able to handle the possibility of you seeking someone else out.

He’d fucking go crazy.

That is not an exaggeration.

Everything goes smoothly though, you returning hand in hand with Keigo with that cute, embarrassed look on your face when you asked where the ‘proper threesome’ should take place. He doesn’t know what Keigo said to you or what you said to him in order to reach the desired conclusion but he doesn’t care, it doesn’t matter because he got what he wanted.

You’re right where Touya wants you.

It feels good to know that when he’s out, Keigo is there to be with you in his place.

Everything feels perfect when he’s with you, he won’t lose you to anyone, you’re so fucking good for him, so fucking loyal to him and Keigo that even when you have your own doubts, you fall in line with what he wants anyway. He knows what’s best for you, what you need and what you don’t need. You don’t have to worry about anything because you’re watched over and cared for. He cares for you all the time like when you’re drunk, high, rolling, cross faded, sick, depressed, and everything in between.

But admittedly there are moments when his own anxiety gets the best of him, sometimes Touya looks at you and suddenly wants to run to the hills. He pops a few oxys to try to calm him down sometimes but they’re not always effective. When the pills don’t help, he hopes one of the whores hits him up to ask for a pill or a baggy and he can pretend that he’s living his old life before you came along because that’s what he’s most familiar with. He thinks you’re too good to be true at times and he follows the instinct to self sabotage by still returning to the whores. And every single time without fail when he returns to you, he feels his chest constrict as soon as you’re in his sights.

It’s no secret to you when he goes out to see them, he comes back smelling like artificial fruit or sweet candy, and he sees how you bristle when he tries to come near you. You’re angry at him but choose to remain silent because it’s an argument that’s long exhausted, he feels guilty that he still can’t commit himself to you fully but swears that one day it will happen. One day he’ll defeat that monster inside him that tempts him to ruin everything he’s built with you. But until then, Touya wants to make it up to you every single time. Food and drinks are an easy way to placate you but his favorite is when you agree to house roll with him because no matter what you end up gravitating to him during the roll and lean on him during your come down.

Sensual make outs while on ecstasy when you’ve reached the peak and then comfortable silence during the come down as you wallow together in a brief period of depression, it’s when he feels the closest to you.

And you don’t know this because he hasn’t been ready to say anything, but he’s already told you that he loves you.

The first time he says it, it’s past the six month mark of the relationship and just a little after Keigo is inducted into it as well. Nothing special in particular had happened to make him say it, you went to bed early because you stayed up way too late the night before and you just needed the extra hours of rest. He smoked a joint to relax, hopped in the shower to clean up, and he tip toed quietly in the room to make sure he didn’t disturb you. You barely flinched as he turned on the light in the room, unaware at how much Touya stared down at you as you slept. He took in your features and marvels at how peaceful you look when you’re asleep.

“I love you.” he says for the first time to you out loud.

You shift a little and emit a quiet, nondescript sound and he panics briefly that you might have heard him. Relief floods through him as you simply mumble and nuzzle the pillow, continuing to rest and none the wiser to the confession that Touya spoke into the air. But a weight is off his shoulders as he climbs into bed with you and is ready to sleep alongside you.

So he tells you he loves you when he knows you can’t hear him like when you’re deep in slumber, when you have your headphones on and just blast your music, or just right when you walk out the door after kissing him goodbye. He’s brave enough in those moments to say it but not brave enough to actually tell you just yet.

There’s one night where he thought you were going to say it first, and if that was the case then Touya would happily reciprocate it back.

You were hanging onto him for dear life as Touya rammed his cock into you, your hands clutching his shoulders and the back of your head digging into the mattress with your back arched off the bed. Touya had been mean to you all night by edging you, pulling out just as you’re about ready to burst and relishes in your desperate cries. You promise him you’ll do anything he wants but please please please, don’t just leave you like this. It’s only when you’re at your most desperate that Touya decided to give you the orgasm he’d been denying you.

“Such a desperate fucking whore. Were you thinking about my cock the entire day you were out?” Touya growled into your neck before nipping down on a sensitive spot as he jackhammers his dick into your pussy. “You were fucking drenched in your panties when you walked through that door. You love my dick so much that you think about it all the time huh?”

Your hands clutch onto his shoulders and Touya’s hips move to fuck you until you pass out from cumming so hard. You’ve been fucked stupid plenty of times and you just blearily look up at him as he utterly uses you to his satisfaction. There are plentiful memories of when you’ve told him you loved his dick in the frenzy of the moment, nothing but praises for his cock and how good he rams it in and out of you. It’s so fucking cute when you’re dick drunk and you slur out all your words. But Touya swears that you say it a little bit differently, straining his ears to make sure he heard you right. His hips don’t falter in their pace but he wants to know that he’s hearing what he thinks he’s hearing.

“I love… it…. cock… I love… yo…” shaky breaths leave your lips, shuddering gasps as your whole body trembles at what is sure to be an earth shattering orgasm. “S’fucking good… love ih… Love… yo— ahhh!”

Your whole body tenses and your back arches off the bed as high as your body allows, toes curling as you cum all over Touya’s cock and he cums alongside you. But even in the wreckage of your orgasm, you’re still choking out those breathless words that he was straining to comprehend just a few seconds ago. He wanted you to enunciate more, he should have slapped your cheek and made you speak clearly otherwise he would edge you again but the idea comes much too late now that you’re a boneless, brain fucked mess beneath him with his cum leaking out of you.

He fucked you too good, you’re asleep within seconds after Touya pulls out of your pussy and he’s a little disappointed that he couldn’t draw those words out of you.

Turquoise blue eyes look down at you, so vulnerable and pretty right before him. You look perfect and so comfortable in his bed that for a few seconds he’s inconceivably happy. You’re completely unaware of the power you have over him, how easily you could kill him without even trying. He’ll break if you leave him and he’ll break you if you try to leave him.

Don’t leave me.

You stay curled up in the bed and snuggled into his pillow even though you have your own on your side of the bed. A few minutes have passed and Touya thinks it’s safe to say it again, confess his heart into the silence of the room and while you’re unconscious to avoid being vulnerable; he’s just not ready yet. It would make his life so much easier if you said it first out loud but he also thinks that it would make you really happy if he were to say it first.

He knows you’ll be happy once the words are put out there, whether he says it first or you do.

Until then, he says it quietly and in the safety of his room while you rest peacefully.

“I love you.”

[pinkhairedlily]

Chapter 9 - Student Council President Sakura

SCPS AO3 | PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Sasuke wondered for the umpteenth time since three in the morning why he agreed to go with the baseball team for their summer camp and wondered more why the student council had to do its orientation and team building event at the same time. He supposed it was to cut down on expenses, but both trips could have gone on without his presence.

Well, it turned out his shoulders were needed as pseudo pillows for the sleepyheads duo. On one side, he can feel the wetness of Naruto’s drool dripping every minute onto his linen shirt, and on the other, Sakura’s vanilla shampoo was arresting his senses. Five hours after a rough roadtrip, the two awake beside a very grumpy Uchiha.

“I demand a barbecue treat from both of you,” he huffed as they disembarked in front of the groups’ joint headquarters.

His mood soured when Kakashi emerged from the next bus, serving as one of the stand-in guardians for the activities, followed by Hyuuga Hinata. She gave Sasuke a stern nod when their eyes met, and he briefly recounted their interaction while waiting for the rest of the participants.

“Good morning, Ms. Hyuuga,” Kakashi greeted. He waved for her to come closer, and he introduced her to the students. “If you’re not aware, the Sports Council has rolled out funding to under-resourced teams across the state to be particularly used for summer trainings. We’re lucky we’re one of those teams. Joining us as an observer is Mr. Hiashi’s daughter herself, Ms. Hinata, who also happens to study in the same district.”

She generously bowed to everyone with a tight-lipped smile. Later, she assumed a position beside Sasuke.

“If it makes you feel better, I did not orchestrate this,” Hinata said. “And if there’s anything you should now, both sides of that relationship have been hurt, with reasons far from what you’re thinking.” She stopped for a whole minute and breathed in, struggling to keep the tears at bay. “So please, leave me alone.”

Yeah, he was a bit of a jerk to her, Sasuke knew that. But he also knew that Hinata had already developed an affection for the blonde idiot, regardless of her denial. As much as he wouldn’t want to complicate things, he thought it best for now to allow the situation to play out. He had to remind himself that he wasn’t here to entangle himself in someone else’s business.

They settled in the mess hall cum dining area for a quick breakfast and breakdown of house rules. He still needed to get used to the fact that this was Sakura’s last time to be a head organizer for a school activity. She will pass on her reins to the incumbent secretary by the start of the next term. Both him and Naruto knew the extent of her sadness in letting this position go, and even more so the need to look out for her the instance she does her confession.

Yet she hasn’t. So they became unwilling witnesses to this awkward tiptoeing with awareness literally skewed to only one side of the party, and Kakashi showering in ignorance bliss.

They went about their room assignments, and Sasuke, with all his luck in the universe, was stuck with Kakashi and Naruto.

“I won’t ask if it’s possible to trade rooms, but would you care to explain why you don’t have a solo room of your own?” he annoyingly asked the silver-haired man who was nose deep at the moment in a coverless book.

“I’m your guardian, Uchiha,” Kakashi replied while yawning. “I’m gonna go sleep so why don’t you frolick in the ocean with your friends while it’s still your free time?”

Unwilling to spend his time with a man who annoyed him so much for no reason at all, Sasuke trudged off his designated room and followed the many footsteps on the sand. The untrimmed hedges eventually give way to the expanse of the gray ocean, its waves roaring from afar, building up like shifting towers, cresting, and breaking into foam by the time they reach the shore.

Naruto was already neck deep in the waters with the rest of his team, the new captain certainly setting a good camaraderie example. Sakura caught his entrance and waved him over despite the new council members intensely blushing at the sight of him.

“Sasuke!” He heard her call.

But every step he took on the soft sand was like a laboring walk on a cesspool of blood, his parents’ blood.

“The turtle is faster than you, you slowpoke!” Sakura continued her incessant teasing.

Trust me, I’m trying to get to you, he thought. Screams broke out just then.

And he felt like he was being whirled away into the barrel of his repressed memories. He started seeing everything in slow motion.

Naruto shouting cramp cramp cramp, an idiot move that got seawater into his nose, and ultimately made him lose his balance. Quick on her feet, Sakura swam into his vicinity with sure, measured strokes of an experienced swimmer. He heard her scream calm down you blonde idiot! and his teammates were able to usher him out of her hold and onto dry land.

But she didn’t manage to follow safely. She was swimming, but her direction kept on going farther away from the shore. She was caught in a riptide. The screams changed from Naruto’s name to her, the intensity and volume of voices getting stronger with every second.

“Sakura!”

“Miss Pres! Someone! Help!”

“Help please!”

Save her, a voice said in his head. “I can’t.”

Her pink hair looked like a blob riding untethered on the arms of the waves. Yet he was rooted to his spot, his memory spilling over like blank ink. Suddenly he can smell the gasoline in the air and the waves lose their sound, replaced by the gasps and shaky breaths of his parents, and the ticking time bomb of an explosion.

He started to hyperventilate as his sight closed in on him. “Sakura, I’m sorry.”

Fast and light footfalls passed by his side, breaking him out of his reverie, and Sasuke’s eyes opened to a coverless book on the sand, its pages fluttering in the wind.

A silver-haired man dove into the surface with no hesitation, briefly disappearing, and emerging again in a few seconds with an unconscious Sakura safe in his arms. Only then did Sasuke run in haste.

“Give us space!” Kakashi yelled with a sliver of anger and panic in his normally laidback voice.

Sasuke would have to content himself seeing the next events play out in between warm bodies, his heart drowning the waves when he realized she wasn’t breathing and Kakashi had to start chest compressions.

Seconds worth of chances and he stood there waiting again.

She still wasn’t responding.

“Come on, Sakura, breathe,” Kakashi pleaded through gritted teeth. When he counted down to thirty, he leaned down and gave her two rescue breaths.

Still no response.

“Dammit Sakura. Don’t die now.”

Another set of thirty compressions. By the fifteenth try, some council members have broken down and started crying.

“Fuck.” Kakashi did another pair of rescue breaths. Then she vomited water.

“Clear the way!”

A group of paramedics came thanks to Hinata’s calm thinking and took the disoriented pinkette from Kakashi’s hold. Sasuke’s eyes trailed after them, her long pink locks swaying in the wind, and landing on Hinata’s fixated gaze on him, like she knew something he didn’t. Or since then has denied.

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

Sakura refused Kakashi’s instruction to go home. It was a close call, but she needed to see through a good transition in the student council, and a productive summer training camp for the baseball team.

“I’ll inform your parents then,” Kakashi said with a steely anger in his voice she was unfamiliar with. At whom it was directed she’ll never know.

“Ah, no need, I already called them,” she lied through gritted teeth. He responded with a brow raise but let it go for now.

“Get some rest, Ms. Pres.”

She did just that, holed up in a room for two days with minimal interaction save for her roommate Hinata who basically sidestepped around her in silence.

“How’s everyone?” Sakura asked her on the third day when she was about to scamper off to her observation duty.

“Your boys wanted to see you,” Hinata said. Sakura wondered if there was a tinge of jealousy in that but she saw the Hyuuga daughter as someone who already has all the good things in life. “But I refused entry since Naruto can be quite noisy and Sasuke is easily riled up nowadays.” Including sensitivity for others.

Hinata continued after giving her a plate of peaches and cranberry juice. “Your student council is still devastated, but they changed up their agenda to include a quick first aid training from a virtual trainer. Baseball team is doing quite well, far better than what I first expected….notwithstanding Haru’s absence.”

She noticed the visible change in Hinata’s expression after she uttered his name. “And how are you?”

The beautiful raven-haired looked at her with eyes brimming in tears. Poor girl never had someone to unload her broken heart to.

“I miss him Sakura.”

Sakura bites down on a slice of peach and taps her finger on one of Hinata’s clutched fist. “Do you still talk?”

Hinata shook her head, her fists clutching then unclasping each other in between pauses. “He was the one who ended the whole thing. Called me up for a date and we went to my favorite café, ordered me my favorite drink, and broke the news that he wanted to break up. He wasn’t angry when he said it, he was weary of everything, and I was hurt more by that fact. After I came home, I learned that he blocked me in all his social media accounts.” She took one slice of peach and stuffed it in her mouth, regardless of the tears that streaked her unmarred face. “I wanted to introduce him to Father, you know. Just until after I graduated so I could at least move away first. If he felt so suffocated by my family, how much more it was for me?”

Sakura puckered her lips with a tint of cranberry juice. “I think you’re both cowards.”

Hinata, who probably expected an empathetic response from Sakura, moved her hand away from Sakura and covered her mouth in surprise.

“It’s true,” the pinkette reasoned out. “Haru is a jerk for leaving all the work to you. He knows of your family so he should have stood up for you if he loved you. But you’re at fault too, Hina, because you know you could have introduced him earlier and faced your father’s wrath together. This gives me Romeo and Juliet vibes.”

“They both die in that story, Sakura.”

“Then West Side Story?” Sakura retrieved Hinata’s hand and put her hand over it. “I’m just saying I hope you find someone willing to take on that risk for you but also allowing you to have your agency to choose and act.”

Hinata doesn’t back away from Sakura’s touch. “You’ve always known what to say since we were in junior high.”

“Well of course! It’s because you and Haru are my friends!” She elbowed Hinata jokingly. “So Naruto?”

Blush bloomed on Hinata’s cheeks with a color far too intense to cover up. “Naruto? What about him?”

“It’s because of his strong people charm, isn’t it?” Sakura smiled, no longer looking at Hinata. “And if Haru had that personality, maybe it wouldn’t be difficult for your father to accept him.”

She was greeted with silence which told her that this was the truth, this was the reason why Hinata craved for his sunshine energy, and the reason why she had always wanted to orbit around him.

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

Despite the life-threatening incident that marked the beginning of their excursion, the remaining days have fallen into some sort of normalcy and mundanity. Sasuke, more than he would like to admit, found himself spending more time with the mathematics teacher who was on his second coverless book.

“What’s your bet?” Kakashi asked out of the blue. Prior to this, they shared the silence punctuated with cicadas and the occasional crackling of wood in the campfire.

“Erotica,” Sasuke replied nonchalantly, seated across him on a foldable steel chair.

The teacher almost choked on his water. “What if I tell you it’s a classic lit?”

“A classic erotica literature,” Sasuke insisted. “Because if it is as safe as you said it, you’d leave the cover on because bookworms are snobbish like that.”

Kakashi chuckled. “What a brat. It’s a good thing I’m not a snitch for the school board.”

“You’re just implying they don’t pay you enough.”

“You’re really a brat.”

Again, the silence engulfed them, not much different from the night that lulled everyone to sleep. Sasuke kept his hands inside the pockets of his thin jacket, moving away from Kakashi to return to their room. He debated about this with himself for the last two days, wondering if it would be worth it. “You seem like a good guy despite your reading preferences.”

“Excuse me?” Kakashi’s voice was laced with offence.

“Thanks for saving Sakura.” He realized he was too young, too unreliable, like the kid he was once before. It was just he never grew up.

And the week was done, and time was in constant shift. The reshuffling in classes left him alone, but never that much, not when two extroverts came checking on him at every break. The spot behind the library was still their hidden spot, the dragonboat team was still their background music, and the countless scenes on the side of the lake were still their guilty pleasures of what-ifs.

Maybe every last year of every phase in life ended up going so fast. Like how the baseball team sped through the preliminaries to the nationals in one relentless drive. And yet again, he found himself going back to the same café with his favorite cashier who colored her hair pink.

“You like my new hair?” Sakura teased. “Okay hit me, I’m on a 15-minute break.”

“Stop eating my tomato basil salad first.” Sasuke flicked off her encroaching fingers on his bowl. “The team needs funds. In the board’s defense, they prepared for jersey uniforms, travel assistance, and board and lodging.”

“Up until the semis,” Sakura clarified.

“Unfortunately. What’s the council gonna do?”

“I’m not the president anymore, remember?”

Sasuke sipped his cold americano, looking pointedly at Sakura, who deflected his gaze. He tapped the surface of the table, knowing all too well that she will spill something any second now.

“The council is gonna do a fundraising event,” she finally relented.

“Please don’t tell me it’s another pass-the-hat.”

She shook her head, but if she was at all excited, she didn’t show it. “They’re gonna invite student musicians and do a showcase in the mall park.” She shrugged. “Not my idea and not my place to meddle.”

“You know it’ll be a failure, right?” Sasuke asked. “The crowd and the weekend traffic won’t be worth the effort.”

She sighed in agreement. “Well, Kakashi-sensei greenlighted it. They must have a trump card.”

Sasuke was right for the most part. No one paid them attention, not the crying kids, not the parents rushing for the flash market sales, not the aunties catching up with the newest town gossip. The music club was already halfway down to the set, and Sakura was keeping her head low and hidden in her beret in secondhand embarrassment.

“Please tell me it gets better,” Sasuke almost pleaded

She eyed him from head to toe with a smirk. “We could auction you if you want. Girlies at nine o’clock want your number.”

He rolled his onyx orbs but flushed at her insinuation that he was worth looking at today. It wasn’t his expertise to dress up nor did it come to him to actually buy new clothes in the last three years. He just put on an oversized graphic t-shirt over a pair of jeans and called it a day, and Sakura stood there beside him in her 90s fashion silk blouse tucked into black pants with a leather belt, very much unaware of how she stole attention.

“Let’s leave?” he suggested.

Sasuke lost sight of the crowd when she looped her arm in his as they walked away to the first notes of Flightless Bird, American Mouth. It was sudden, probably on impulse, and not much to Sakura’s thoughts, and maybe those were the reasons why he didn’t pull away from the electricity of her touch.

And maybe he should have walked quicker so she wouldn’t have looked back and seen Kakashi on the piano chair, stroking the keys like that of a lover, and his voice crooning everyone to join his atmosphere.

So while she stood there beside him, all dolled up and beautiful from head to toe, with her arm linked with his in the middle of a gathering crowd, she wasn’t entirely his, her heart not swaying in time with his pulse, but beating instead to the pluck of his chords.

Ah so I really was in love with her. A realization too late and another missed chance to offer her his saving grace.

Two songs later and a beaming Kakashi taking pictures with the audience, Sakura finally unlinked her arm from Sasuke’s, and they walked out of the mall under the threat of impending downpour. With hurried steps and foregone conversations, they managed to reach the shelter of a small shed along the bridge connecting the mall to the train station just before the rain ensued.

“Ah I forgot to bring an umbrella. Funny since it was scorching hot earlier.” She put out her fingers outside the cover of the shed, making contact with the drops. “Like it was sudden and inevitable.”

Sasuke kept mum about the umbrella inside his crossbody bag, wanting instead to drown in the rain with her.

“I wish it was that sudden and inevitable too – falling out of love,” she said as she took her wet hand inside for cover. “Because I’m running out of excuses to not fall further more.”

“You haven’t confessed yet,” Sasuke reminded her. “And we all know how that ends in this setup. You can never be together Sakura.”

“I know.” He heard her choke back a sob.

“I wish I could, Sasuke. But my eyes see him and then my mind plays back a dozen frames of him every second. I really wish I could do just that – fall out of love.”

She gave in to her emotions and cried with abandoned resentment and yet he saw her with rose tinted lenses – still beautiful in the woes of a first love heartbreak. His body started to move on its own, his arms hovering around her, an unspoken question of permission to touch her safe space, and she leaned into his embrace, an equally unspoken consent to envelop her in comfort.

They must have been lovers in the eyes of those under the passing umbrellas. His hug tightened at best, absorbing every convulsion in her small frame like it was his sole function.

“Would you like to use me, Sakura?” he whispered like a prayer he uttered under his breath for the rain to continue and give him a little more seconds, a bit more minutes, an illusion of stranded time with her in his arms.

Pools of emerald looked back at him stricken with fear. “It’s not fair. To you. To me.”

His ember irises held steady. “I don’t mind.”

“I do mind.” She cupped his face, soft yet calloused palms that tether him to this reality. “I do mind so I will not let my broken heart steal your chance at first love.”

But the rain has stopped as sudden as it started and she was out of his hold, running for her dear life out of the cover of the shed, through the bridge and into a train line he couldn’t follow.

But you’re my first love.

AO3 LINK | NEXT CHAPTER | CHAPTER 10

[spookyc]

i'm kind of interesting in your cryptid au - what type of monster is each character?

Glad you asked and I'll be happy to answer! I'll also try to explain why I chose each cryptid for each character.

Alright let's start with our protagonist, Hajime, this one is pretty simple, he is a shapeshifter. This is one is pretty self explanatory, as it's meant to represent Izuru possessing every talent where as here Izuru has the ability to possess the forms of his fellow freakshows. He is one of the most anticipated acts in the freakshow, but constantly transforming his body everyday for the audience does a number on his psyche, eventually bringing Izuru out.

Nagito: As I revealed in an earlier post, was a vampire. I chose this due to his general appearance and also his condition of being sickly. I also chose it to form an interesting dynamic for Nagito. See, as a vampire, Nagito needs to drink blood but a vampire's powers increase when they are hungry, so hope's peak intentionally starves him for his shows. So, nagito grows more unhinged from starvation, and starts thinking of feeding off the freakshows. But he still has his hope complex and worships the freakshows. So he's caught in a struggle of his body and his will.

Chiaki: Now she isn't exactly a cryptid but I like what I decided for her. So she's a TV head, which I chose due to her gaming fixation but also because she was an AI, which is sort of the same here, albeit more of a kiibo situation where she is an AI in a physical body. Her shows aren't as elaborate as the others, mostly consisting of her showing emotions through the swapping of channels and playing videos games in her mind which is portrayed on her TV screen. She doesn't have as severe issues as some of the others but she faces her own problems as an AI among humans.

Ultimate Imposter: Simple enough, he's a doppelganger. This is of course referring to him being the ultimate imposter, the only real change being that his true form is that of a gray amorphous blob. His shows consist of him copying the other freakshows, though it differs from Hajime tho, as UI can only morph into people and is restricted to morphing into those he knows whereas Hajime can shapeshift into anything, even things he has not seen.

Teruteru: So, quite an odd choice, but one I'm quite pleased with. So Teruteru is a basan, or a japanese fire-breathing chicken. As for a human form, he doesn't have one, he's just a fire-breathing chicken who's a great cook, the jokes make themselves. He's still a perve but less so simply due to most of the forms the freakshows take, only really having his eye on Peko and Sonia who are both very capable of killing him with a single strike so he keeps his cards to his chest as it were. His acts of course consist of feats of fire breathing and dual acts with akane.

Peko, my beloved: So Peko is a gorgon, in the sense that she has the bottom half of a snake. I chose this because Peko reminds of a snake in the best way possible. She's fierce and mysterious with piercing eyes that cut through your soul. As for abilities, she does possess the stone vision of gorgons, but she can control when she uses it, and she doesn't like having to use it. Just because she doesn't use her stone vision doesn't mean she should be underestimated tho, she still is a pro swordswoman and is arguably more adept than she would have been with legs. She has a dual act with Fuyuhiko, more specifically an arena type duel. Of course they don't fight to the death but any injury they sustain is fair game. Peko of course always objects to this but pushing hope's peaks buttons risks detainment for a freakshow, ultimately, she doesn't have a choice.

Mahiru: Okay so, she was really hard but I decided on making her a nymph. This is because I imagined that being able to blend with nature would be able to help capture people in their most natural state, in regards to her photography of course. Her acts are also not the most eventful, just her blending with different natural surroundings. That's honestly about it, wish I had more but Mahiru has always been a blank slate for me.

Ibuki: Ibuki! So, ibuki is a Siren, this is pretty obvious, as I chose this due to her being the ultimate musician. However, I do have an interesting dynamic with her and her ability. So, since sirens usually have melodious voices and show their victims what they desire most, I wanted to flip that on its head. So, since Ibuki doesn't exactly have a melodious voice, (a great voice, yes but not melodious nonetheless) her power doesn't show those what they desire but instead their deepest fears. This causes Ibuki to hide her singing, excluding her acts, and to grow self-conscious of her aspiration for music. Her acts consist mostly of water tricks and of course her singing, which audience members say they get a thrill and a since of comfort being able to face their deepest fear. Ibuki thinks differently, wanting her music to encourage and inspire people rather than send fear through them. And that is her central conflict throughout this au, which I'll end off here for sake of brevity.

Hiyoko: Pretty pleased with what I decided for her. So Hiyoko is a kitsune, I chose this because of her noble lineage and I think the kitsune is a pretty noble animal, despite having some cursed elements. She was still forced into the whole dancing thing, which she mixes between her human and fox form. But, her mischievous nature fits that of the kitsune as she's still her normal abrasive self. She tries staying out of her fox form as much as possible as it reminds her of her lineage that she hates but she of course has to transform into it for her acts. These consist of fire tricks as well as a showcase of mastery swapping between forms.

Mikan: Alright so Mikan's is kinda wild but stay with me. So Mikan is a lich and here's why. So I chose this for her because I know I wanted her to be undead, because she would constantly have to patch herself up. Decided on a lich to give an air to her that something isn't quite right, that she holds more power that she let's on and simply doesn't express it. Also I have some extremely dark reasons as to how she became a lich but I won't get into that here for brevity's sake.

Nekomaru: So Nekomaru's pretty fun, he's a minotaur mainly just because I think it fits him, and he definitely gives off jovial bull vibes. Despite his appearance he still has his joyful personality and still takes pride in his talent of team leader. His acts consist of feats of strength primarily, nothing much besides that.

Gundham: So Gundman is an imp, because he definitely deserves to be a demon but he's gonna be the lowest demon there is. Cause I still want to emphasize his whole "overlord complex" despite him just being an imp. He does still have his hamsters and he takes very good care of them, the four dark devas live a fulfilling life even if their master doesn't. Gundham can perform some lesser demon abilities like changing his appearance, in terms of pigment, small fire control, and flight. Of which he showcases in his acts. Even tho he's just an mere imp he is the Supreme Overlord of Ice and he will not accept any other titles.

Fuyuhiko: Finally! We have arrived at the boy, Fuyuhiko. So, Fuyuhiko is a werewolf, because he's an angsty boy and because I like werewolves. The story plays out much the same way as before, though Peko was assigned not just to protect Fuyuhiko but also to protect him from himself. His acts consist of arena battles with Peko, of which he always intentionally loses. He's able to transform each day to a drug they inject in him before every match that forces a transformation. These drugs make him agitated and irritable, more so than usual and also causes him extreme mood swings. Even if sometimes he wishes he could be detained, he stays for Peko. He knows she wouldn't forgive herself if he was taken away, regardless of her involvement, so he stays in this condition. It isn't all bad tho, spending time with Peko outside of the area isn't so bad. He also is often found hanging out with Kazuichi, who Fuyuhiko refers to as a "fucking moron" and yet still hangs out with him most days. They've formed an unlikely friendship that the two cherish even if Fuyuhiko won't admit it. He also has a pretty good relationship with Ibuki, her being Peko's girlfriend and all.

Kazuichi: Okay, Kazuichi, so Kazuichi is a gargoyle and man how I got there is a story. So I wanted Kazuichi to be something constructed, something manmade in a way so that he could rebuild himself as well as other things. So orginally he was a golem but I just couldn't vibe with that so I ended up settling with a gargoyle. I do think it fits him in a way, not sure how, but it suits him imo. So he's got the standard gargoyle abilities, he's got wings and can fly and can also change into his stone form at will. He prefers to sleep in this form, and he often turns into this form when scared which is often. His acts consist flying around the stage and testing the endurance of his stone skin. He also has a close relationship with Fuyuhiko and of course Sonia, though he doesn't see her as often as he would like.

Sonia: So, Sonia's is very different but I really like it. So she is a basilisk, not the serpent one but the more giant chicken with a serpent tail. Her cryptid form is one that affects her in and out of her form, and both are just as deadly. So since she's a basilisk, she has lethal vision and this is active in and out of her form. So she walks around with a blindfold on, and she has yet to see any of the her fellow freakshow's faces. She also is kept within her enclosure at almost all times, she's only let out about twice a day and these outings don't last long. In her basilisk form she easily stands 20-feet tall, with a wingspan of 25 feet, her feets are huge and equipped with deadly talons. From her beak she leaks venom that is capable of causing a limb to be amputated with a single drop. Not as lethal as her vision, but enough would easily be able to cause death. She doesn't perform, merely has visitors come and visit her in her basilisk form. She's very lonely, wishing with every part of her that she wasn't cursed with her form, but she does appreciate the visitors she gets. Chiaki and Akane often come to visit her, Kazuichi also comes by often, Fuyuhiko having to drag him off when he's overstayed his welcome. She holds on to her friendships, as it's all she really has.

Lastly we have Akane, so I decided on making Akane a dragon. For one dragons are known to have a voracious appetite, and two, Nekomaru in the main story talks about Akane having untapped potential, which I think would fit her as a dragon. Yeah, so contrary to Hiyoko, Akane primarily stays in her dragon form, even when just walking around the freakshow traveling caravan. She's not a huge dragon as she still isn't fully grown, so she's only slightly bigger than the average person. This is partially her just preferring her dragon form, (doesn't have to wear clothes, can fly, can eat more), but it's also because if she's a dragon no one can objectify her. She doesn't have to deal with the male gaze if she's a dragon and she quite likes it that way. Her acts consist of typical dragon shit, flying, feats of strength and a dual act with teruteru for fire breathing, (she can't breathe fire herself so she places teruteru in her mouth like a mama croc does with her babies and he does all the work. Before you say anything, teruteru actually doesn't get any perseve enjoyment out of this, or at least he doesn't anymore, just gets an excuse to take a bath).

And that's about it! Had a lot of fun coming up with these guys and I do have a story in mind for them if you'd like to hear. I also will answer that ask about the talentswap, I know it's been a while and I apologize for that but I have an excuse to work on it now so I'll get to that. Thanks for the ask!

[agent-cupcake]

So happy you but up the headcanons! All of them are gems and I love them so much. Rereading the Dimitri and Felix rivalry hc made me want to ask for claude and yuri rivalry, but dark of course because both of these boys are sane and logical and would move on if they both caught feelings for you and weren't attached to you by a dark obession lol.

Sorry, I know you asked for love rivalry but I simply could not help myself and got a little carried away with seeing the so-called rivalry to his inevitable conclusion :3c

~Not that it’s probably necessary, but I had to consider the timeline for this. A rivalry between them wouldn’t fit in the events of the game because of Claude’s ambition, but he leaves the country in most endings. My solutions would be to have Claude split his time between Fódlan and Almyra as a politically active prince such as in his solo ending or to propose that Yuri would spend a lot of time in Almyra. Reasons for this could be that he went in aid of his good friend and military commander Balthus (Yuri would make for an awfully good royally sanctioned spy) or that he’s abusing the newfound system of open-market international trade for his criminal enterprise. Either way, Claude is powerful Almyran royalty and Yuri is a shady figure of the underworld. Not too unlike a story I’ve written, but this is separate from that. None of this really matters, ultimately, but whatever I like to think of how this would work out.

~Both men are powerful and ambitious. Both of them are emotionally isolated despite (or because of) their positions. They’re friends, or at least on friendly terms so there’d be a lot of overlap in social circles. And, really, they are quite similar so it’s plausible that they’d go for the same type.  

~I’ve since changed my stance on reasons why Claude might develop a fixation on someone. He is concerned with the intrinsic value of a person. He values the thoughts, feelings, and especially the perception of people he is close with. Claude is also a loner, a fundamentally lonesome person who wishes to be seen and loved on his own merits despite the guard he puts up and the social games he plays. Not to say I entirely retcon my previous opinion, but I focused too hard on the idea that he would need to dehumanize you by zeroing in on utilitarian usefulness rather than be driven to darker feelings by his fear of being alone and need to find a connection.

~This all goes for Yuri too, although it’s easier for me to imagine Yuri getting his authentic feelings twisted up and dark. Yuri’s circumstances were somewhat similar to Claude’s, except that he was shown genuine affection by his mother and the old man. Therefore, he knows what it is to lose that. He learned early on what it is to have people die because of him, to shoulder the burden of guilt that comes with such profound loss. Yuri’s scarred by a brutal, painful upbringing where “love” was a commodity to be traded in for favors (even by his mother) and genuine, honest relationships became nearly impossible to comprehend. If he met you and developed those true, affectionate feelings, if he found a so-called light in the darkness, maybe it’d make sense that he’d do everything he could to keep it from losing it.

~Their similarities in this instance would work out for this scenario. Somebody useful to them, somebody authentic enough to appeal to their deeply ingrained sense of loneliness, somebody clever or interesting or fun… There’s a lot of reasons they could develop unhealthy feelings for you born out of an innocently platonic friendship.

~And it would have to be platonic on both counts. Yuri and Claude are too self-aware for them to make a move if you made a choice early on. Or, I don’t think it’d become as big of a production because they wouldn’t have emotionally invested so much in you. Leading them both on unintentionally just by having a normal human friendship is kinda sad but also kinda funny.

~They’d know that you were close with the other. Of course they would. Maybe it would hurt, but neither would express that feeling to you. Claude would ask pointed (but not direct) questions about your feelings and dazzle you with grand overtures. Yuri would work the seductive and sweet angle, trying to win your heart the old fashioned way. But, you know, with more uncomfortable subtext and innuendo.   

~Something that has not changed is my opinion that Claude would be obsessive about his darker feelings. Not on a consistent, all the time basis, but more like a hobby. A puzzle he couldn’t solve, an itch he couldn’t quite scratch. He’d search for all of the pieces of you in the hopes that the final picture would allow him to understand his increasingly dangerous feelings. Claude’s not stupid, he’s really self aware. Enough to feel guilt, enough to recognize that what he’s doing isn’t right, and enough to justify himself out of the responsibility of doing amoral things for the right reasons.

~Yuri, on the other hand, wouldn’t be so… aggressive about it. He’d want you to come to him, to return to him again and again to prove to himself that what he feels isn’t wrong, to ingratiate himself into your life in a way that validated everything he felt for you and put you on more equal footing. He’d internalize everything a lot more, feel a lot of guilt about the intensity of his feelings, but he’d find ways to keep you close. Or, for you to keep him close.

~Don’t get me wrong, though, you wouldn’t get so much of a glimpse of this weaker, more vulnerable Yuri. He’d go the opposite direction of his guilt or doubt, wearing an impenetrable smiling, sarcastic, playful mask. My main point is that I see him as being more emotionally wrecked by having these dark feelings due to his self hatred. I also think Yuri would be more generally sensitive to unhealthy romance dynamics, especially if it became physical at all. 

~In an interestingly twisted way, Yuri hypocritically recognizing Claude’s behavior as being dangerous would encourage him to be more proactive about his own feelings and feel less guilty about doing so. Being the protective type rather than the obsessive really just fits Yuri so much better, although I see it as one ultimately leading to the other.

~It’s not about winning. They’d be competing, clearly battling against each other for you in a way that would not only be creepily objectifying, but also emotionally strenuous, but they’d keep on insisting that it wouldn’t be about winning. They’d just want you to be happy, to be safe. They both would just want what’s best for you. And what is best for you? Just ask them.

~Claude’s argument: Yuri’s lifestyle is dangerous. He’s a good guy, Claude really does trust him, buuuuut he’s not exactly the type of man you’d be safe with, you know?

~Yuri’s argument: Claude’s not treating you right. He’s obviously manipulating you, how could you possibly miss that? You deserve better, don’t you agree?

~But in the same breath they’d both insist that if you didn’t want to be with them romantically, that would be fine. They both, truly and unselfishly, would just want you to be happy. Just want to stay close with you. Veeeeeery unselfishly. 

~Their interactions with each other would be amazingly fake and aloof. Making small talk and smiling all the while vying for your attention in a nearly juvenile tug-of-war. Still, I don’t think, even through all of this, that they’d dislike each other. It’s not about winning, right? It’s not a game, right?

~Okay, so, I know the whole thing with scenarios like this is an inability to face rejection, but if you were to chose Yuri over Claude or vice versa, that’s where it would end. Committing yourself to one of them still wouldn’t work out super well because that’s the nature of giving into such dark and unhealthy feelings, but it would no longer be a rivalry.

~Let me propose, then, that you would eventually reject both of them. At first, the whole thing would have been so fun and so nice. Getting all of this attention from two powerful and attractive guys would be exciting. You’d feel so lucky, they’re both charming and friendly and kind. But then things would have gotten more intense and there’s this weird love triangle that is incredibly trite and uncomfortable and you wouldn’t have wanted to hurt either of them so it’s better to just leave it, right?

~Yuri would be more likely to use his personal feelings as a tactic of manipulation, I think. Worse, he probably wouldn’t see it that way. He knows, he truly knows, how dangerous and terrible the world could be and he’d do anything to shield you from it and his feelings would reflect that. Granted, if he felt you weren’t getting it, I don’t think Yuri would exactly be above veiled threats or bludgeoning you with fear tactics and even a dash of shame for how you’d played with both their hearts.

~Claude would do his best to convince you that you didn’t actually want to go. You didn’t have to chose either of them, but you couldn’t leave, either. That was way too dramatic. Besides… wasn’t it a little selfish? This was where you were needed, he relied on you. He trusted you. Sure, Claude’s a visionary, but what does that vision matter if the one who he shares his dreams with is gone?

~Maybe that wouldn’t work, though. Long term, it probably wouldn’t. I mentioned before that they wouldn’t hate each other, so if it came down to actually losing you, why not work together?

~Love triangles are for chumps, invest in a horribly unhealthy three person dynamic with possible kidnap and very overt tones of mental and emotional manipulation.

~That would solve all the the problems, wouldn’t it? Why would you try and leave them after they made so many compromises for you? Really, would you be that ungrateful and callous? They would both care about you so much, love you, even. Yuri and Claude would be trying to make it work despite the fact that it came down to essentially a tie in this bizarre game, why couldn’t you do your part? Landing such attractive and powerful guys, having them lay their hearts at your feet, you’d have to be a really terrible and selfish person to reject that. Not that you’d be given a lot of choice, but the devils in the details and if you fought them on this, it probably wouldn’t end up very pretty for you.

~Not saying either of them would hurt you. Physically, I mean. Probably. 

~In some ways, the compromise would make the guilt easier for them to bear. The fact that they were also being forced to deal with something they wouldn’t necessarily want to would be a leveling ground for them to justify any of your unhappiness with the situation. Like, it was all an equal amount of compromise to make things work for all three of you. 

~Claude would know how much Yuri meant to you and feel like the fact that he hadn’t taken that away from you absolved him of a lot of the responsibility of the other things he’d taken from you. Plus, Claude’s a distracted guy who’d lose track of things sometimes, always getting caught up in whatever project he was working on at the time, so he’d know that you wouldn’t be lonely during those times.

~Yuri would see Claude as being, in many ways, a better person than him. More out of a horrible sense of self perception than fact. So Yuri could have his piece of you with the recognition that Claude was there to balance the worst parts of himself and make you happy in ways this dark, twisty version of Yuri might not think he could.

~I don’t think that either Yuri or Claude would ever truly get along because of how similar they are and the fact that they both kinda lost to the other but I also don’t think that would be a huge issue. Their verbal sparring would be entertaining, honestly. 

[blitzturtles]

Title: It Starts Like This, Ch. 5

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Vento Aureo

Pairing(s): BruAbba, FugoNara / NaraFugo (Could be platonic, honestly, tho the BruAbba definitely isn't.)

Summary: He should have listened to Fugo more closely. Should have paid more attention to Abbacchio. Maybe something they had said or done would help now, but he doesn’t know because he never listens. He’s too stupid to get any of this right, and now Bucciarati’s suffering for it.

Notes: Turns out being dead has a bit of a long term effect. Who would have thought?

This fic got away from me, so I'm breaking it down by character interaction (sort of). This is Nara's chapter. Also, sorry this is super late; we just moved into our new rental, and that's been incredibly stressful/difficult.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

-

Narancia groans and slams a fist against his desk. He’s been at this homework bullshit for the better part of two hours now, and he hasn’t gotten anywhere! He’s at the end of his rope with, but he knows Fugo will be mad if he gives up now. After all, Fugo’s the one that put the practice sheet together for him, but that doesn’t make it any easier for Narancia to understand.

“Why do I bother?” He mutters to himself, but he already knows the answer. It’s because Bucciarati always gets this sad look in his eyes whenever the subject of school comes up, and he always looks so damn proud of Narancia whenever he manages to score a lousy ‘C’. Narancia can’t imagine the disappointment if he withdrew from school (... again), so he decides to double down.

It’s less than five minutes later that he’s pulling at his hair with clenched fists.

Maybe a break wouldn’t be the worst idea. Fugo won’t be back for a few more hours, and it’s not like he’d know. Narancia could get a snack, maybe watch a single episode of the dumb drama that Mista got him into. Or even half an episode! Narancia’s a reasonable guy. He can behave.

He’s about halfway to the kitchen when his stomach turns oddly. “I’m working on it,” he says to himself, but he can’t quite shake the feeling that something is off. Or-- wrong? His brows furrow together. It’s like the feeling of being watched, what with the unease that’s curling around his entire being, but it’s different somehow. Something’s definitely wrong, but he doesn’t know what.

There’s really only one way to find out.

Aerosmith materializes in front of him, along with Narancia’s radar. He squints at it with a frown. There are only two signatures, which is what he would expect. Everyone else is busy today. It’s just him and Bucciarati. No one’s skulking around the exterior or hiding somewhere inside. Just the two of them, except--

Except Bucciarati’s signature looks weird, and it takes Narancia a moment to realize why. It’s weak and too fast, and he doesn’t need to be in the room to imagine the gasping breaths that are causing the unsteady signal. The signal that’s dropping; the signal that’s--

“Shit!” Narancia’s off like a shot through the mansion. Aerosmith races ahead of him, already scoping out the scenario that he’s about to run into with almost no real clue on how to handle it. It doesn’t slow him down in the least. He’s too fixated on getting to Bucciarati.

There’s something viscerally disturbing about seeing his Capo on the ground with the back of his head pressed into the floor in a way that looks downright painful. His entire body is rigid down to the tips of his fingers, which look like someone’s strung the tendons tight enough to snap.

Narancia nearly trips on his own feet trying to close the last of the distance, and he all but falls on his knees. His hands frantically feel out Bucciarati’s upper arm, but he doesn’t know what his goal is there. He doesn’t know what his goal should be. Sure, he saw Abbacchio handle that one seizure, and Fugo gave him a rundown, but this is different. Several times more terrifying than anything he could have prepared for, much less so when he has no one to help him.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he whispers as he tries to remember what Abbacchio did.

On his side. Bucciarati should be on his side, but he looks like he’s in pain with the way his features are scrunched up. It’s only the short, painful gasps that yield no air movement that kick Narancia into gear. Bucciarati’s carbon dioxide input has all but dissipated now, and Narancia’s had his stand for long enough to know that Bucciarati’s burning up more and more of his oxygen reserves the longer this goes on.

Actually getting Bucciarati onto his side is so much harder than it sounds. Moving a man that’s larger than him and rigid in every part of his body makes it a near impossible task, but Narancia manages through pure willpower.

“C’mon, you need to breathe,” Narancia knows his voice sounds desperate and shaky. Pathetic, really, but he’s practically pleading with Bucciarati. He’d do anything for the man to just listen to him, but Bucciarati continues to suck in inhale after inhale with seemingly no pause to actually let anything out. It’s terrifying, and Narancia feels his eyes burning and his frustration getting the better of him.

He should have listened to Fugo more closely. Should have paid more attention to Abbacchio. Maybe something they had said or done would help now, but he doesn’t know because he never listens. He’s too stupid to get any of this right, and now Bucciarati’s suffering for it.

The shaking starts after another few, hopeless seconds pass. It’s to Narancia’s sick relief that Bucciarati’s signal finally comes back. A massive ripple across his radar that evens out to something not quite right, but something there.

Eventually, the shaking turns into painful looking jerking motions, and even those start to slow down after another few seconds before Bucciarati goes entirely still. Narancia can’t bring himself to relax yet, despite the ache in his arms from holding (gently, don’t force it, Fugo’s voice rings out in his head) Bucciarati on his side.

Twenty more seconds pass, and Narancia finally relaxes when Bucciarati’s chest starts to rise and fall naturally. Ten more seconds, and blue eyes are blinking up at him with confusion. There’s a quiet, uncertain sound in the back of Bucciarati’s throat that reminds Narancia of something else Fugo said,

‘He’ll probably be out of it for awhile, and seizures are... ‘ Fugo had gone quiet, ‘Just imagine what it’s like to be the one having them if seeing them is so terrifying.’

“You’re okay,” Narancia says gently. Ignores the wobble of his own voice just like he ignores the wetness on his cheeks.

Bucciarati hums at him and blinks slowly, but there’s no sign that he knows that he’s being spoken too, much less what’s being said.

“I’m sorry,” Narancia continues. He wipes at his eyes quickly, as if to hide the fact that he’s been crying. “I’m sorry- I know, I know this is a lot, and I’m really sorry that I’m screwing it up. You’re okay. I won’t- I’m right here, okay? I’ll keep you safe and shit.”

There’s a moment that Bucciarati turns his head and tries to flip himself onto his back that Narancia thinks might be signs of consciousness, but Bucciarati still doesn’t acknowledge him. He seems uncomfortable more than anything, so Narancia helps him roll onto his back. He can always help him back if-- He shakes the thought from his head.

There’s a line of drool that becomes visible with Bucciarati on his back, and there’s a tinge of pink to it that tells him that Bucciarati either nicked his lip or his tongue. He’s not about to stick his hands in Bucciarati’s mouth to try to figure out which. Not when the amount of blood is so insignificant, and Bucciarati might come to at any moment. Narancia sure as hell wouldn’t want someone’s hands in his mouth while already waking up dazed.

It’s then that his phone chooses to ring out loudly from his pocket, scaring him badly enough that he nearly falls over. Bucciarati’s eyes shift toward him, which is something Narancia would celebrate as a minor victory if his heart weren’t pounding too hard already.

He fishes around in his pocket and breathes out a sigh of relief at seeing Fugo’s name. “Seizure,” is the first thing that comes out of his mouth before so much as a greeting on either end can be spoken.

“Shit,” Fugo shifts on his end, “I’ll call Abbacchio. How long?”

“I don’t know, like- less than two minutes, I think? I mean the shaking part. I don’t know, fuck, I’m-”

“Stop,” Fugo cuts him off before he can spiral, “You did fine. Stay with him. We’ll be there soon, and remember what I said.”

“Got it,” Narancia doesn’t bother to hang up before he discards the phone nearby (carefully, near enough to reach if he needs it).

Without thinking, he finds his fingers in Bucciarati’s bangs. It’s something that he does for Fugo. Petting through his hair until he can breathe normally again after a bad panic attack or flashback. This might not be the same, but he hopes it helps. All the while, he runs his mouth with a bit more confidence after Fugo’s reassurance.

“Nara--ncia?” Bucciarati blinks, scrunches his eyes, and opens them again. “What?”

“You had a seizure,” Narancia explains, “But you’re okay now. Fugo and Abbacchio are going to be here soon.”

“Oh,” Bucciarati hums like he did earlier, but he’s definitely more aware now. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, I mean-” Narancia shrugs, unable to find the words he wants. That’s another problem of his, but it’s his problem and not Bucciarati’s. “I’m just glad you’re doing a little better.”

“Feel like I was hit by a train,” the words are stuttered out, and it takes Bucciarati a while to form them, but he manages in the end. Narancia’s relieved to hear him say anything at all.

“You were kinda tense.”

Bucciarati lets out a sound that might be a laugh, and Narancia curses himself for pointing out the obvious.

“Sorry, I didn’t-”

“It’s fine,” Bucciarati absently leans into the gentle touch of Narancia’s calloused hands working their way through his hair. It’s a gentle sensation that’s more than welcome compared to the ache in the rest of his body.

Seeing the way Bucciarati relaxes puts Narancia at ease enough to shift from his knees to his ass. He crosses his legs, all while still carding his fingers through Bucciarati’s hair. They talk for a while, about nothing in particular. The words eventually get easier for Bucciarati, and he’s more lucid now than he had been after the last seizure that Narancia saw him have. That has to be good, or that’s what he tells himself anyway.

“Bruno,” Abbacchio calls from the doorway, causing Narancia and Bucciarati to turn their attention to the worried man. He must have been walking fast or outright running, considering the seconds that pass before Fugo appears behind him.

“I’m alright,” Bucciarati says immediately upon seeing their faces.

It’s so absurdly Bucciarati that Narancia wants to laugh, but he’s also relieved.

“I knew I shouldn’t have gone back,” Abbacchio grumbles as he crouches beside them on the floor. He moves to help stabilize Bucciarati when the man insists on sitting up; something that he hadn’t asked Narancia to do, and Narancia’s kind of grateful for that (like he is for so many of the things that Bucciarati does for him).

Bucciarati rolls his eyes, but there’s a pull at the corner of the left side of his mouth that gives him away. As much as he doesn’t like to be treated like a child, his love for Abbacchio will always trump his irritation. “We can’t live in constant fear.”

“We can make things work until you get on meds that help,” Fugo pointed out with a thoughtful frown.

The small smile slips off of Bucciarati’s face, and he sighs a deep, tired puff of air. “Maybe,” he admits, if only for the moment. He doesn’t look up for an argument, and, if he were, he’d likely keep it behind closed doors. Correcting their behavior in public is one thing, demanding of them what needs to be done is another, but a full on argument? That’s a rare sight for any of them.

“Let’s get you to the sofa,” Abbacchio says with a sigh of his own.

“I’ll uh, leave you guys to it,” Narancia mumbles, palms already pressing to the ground to shove himself upwards. His chest feels tight, and he feels his eyes beginning to water again. It’s ridiculous, considering the fact that Bucciarati is fine now. Great, even. At least compared to last time, but it’s like the whole situation has finally caught up with him. The panic and anxiety are threatening to swallow him, and he doesn’t want to lose it in front of a man that’s just been put through the wringer.

“You-” Bucciarati starts, but Fugo cuts in,

“We’ll go get some water and painkillers. You look like you’re sore,” it’s an excuse, though it is something that they can do for Bucciarati, and Narancia’s grateful to be useful. Or he will be in a few minutes, when he’s calmed himself back down.

They make it back to the hall that Narancia had been in when all this started before he loses it completely. The tears come and don’t stop, despite the arms that wrap around him.

“You did a good job,” Fugo murmurs into his ear and presses a kiss to Narancia’s hair. He’s not typically this affectionate in the public areas of the house, but, then again, Narancia doesn’t normally break down in the hallways, either.

“I didn’t count, and I forgot what you said about the blood, and-”

“You did fine, Narancia. He’s alright; that’s all that matters,” Fugo pulls back enough to force the other boy to look him in the eyes. “Seriously, Abbacchio and I are just glad you were there, and I’m sure Bucciarati is, too.”

“Yeah,” Narancia croaks, for lack of anything else to say, and because he suddenly feels too tired to argue.

Fugo pulls him into another hug. One that lingers a bit before either can bring themselves to move away. Ultimately, it’s Narancia who breaks contact.

“Let’s go get Bucci some water and pain killers. That shit looked awful,” Narancia says as he wipes at the drying tears. He can only imagine how sore every one of Bucciarati’s muscles must feel, including ones he probably hadn’t been aware of until waking up.

Fugo nods, “Yeah, let’s go.”

By the time they make it back to the library, Bucciarati is curled up on the sofa and leaned against Abbacchio. They’re talking quietly, but surprisingly don’t seem to be arguing. It might have something to do with the fatigue that’s so apparent on Bucciarati’s face, and the worry on Abbacchio’s. The added arm that’s curled around Bucciarati in a protective manner only lends to that theory.

“We got meds,” Fugo says as a way to announce their presence.

Bucciarati sits up enough to take both the pills and the cup of water they brought for him. He downs both in a single go and pulls a face at the dryness that remains. “Thank you. Both of you, but especially you, Narancia.”

“Yeah, it uh- was long overdue, right?” Narancia says, trying to make a light-hearted remark about their first meeting. He’s felt like he’s owed Bucciarati for that ever since, though this hardly feels like repaying him.

Bucciarati smiles at him anyway. “Come sit down? You look like you might fall over.”

Says the man that just had a seizure. Then again, Bucciarati’s already sitting. Narancia hasn’t managed to stop fidgeting in his spot since they got back to the library.

He sits on the couch on Bucciarati’s free side while Fugo takes up his favorite plush chair a few feet away. Narancia holds himself awkwardly, trying to avoid putting any more pressure on the parts of Bucciarati’s body that might hurt (which he figures is most of it).

“Oh for the love of-” Abbacchio reaches behind Bucciarati to tug Narancia by the collar. He yanks him sideways until he’s leaned against Bucciarati, who looks more than happy to accept the additional affection.

Bucciarati snakes his arm around Narancia and hugs him close with a gentle squeeze. “I know you don’t believe any of us, but you did a great job today, weird as that is for me to say,” but putting his charges before himself is a near character flaw, considering how it had nearly cost Bucciarati his life.

There are renewed tears in Narancia’s eyes, and he has to take a moment to compose himself before he can respond, “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Me, too, kid,” Abbacchio grumbles and reaches over again to squeeze Narancia’s shoulder.

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Winners’ Drive

Pairing: Beth Harmon/Benny Watts Rating: T Word Count: 1274

Summary:

"Oh, and about sex... Forget it." - Benny Watts, The Queen's Gambit

Beth quickly agrees to Benny's terms and he decides to remain at the bar. In all the drunken lecturing that follows, he makes one comment that stands out. It's still in Beth's head the next day as they drive from Ohio to New York.

“Consider it forgotten,” Beth pipes up, light and quick.

Benny, in the process of rising from his stool, turns back with an expression of disbelief. His eyes narrow.

“You said you like my hair.”

“And I’ll never give you a compliment again if it’s going to scare you off like that. I think you’ll take it pretty hard though, not being flattered during all the matches we’re going to play when we get to New York.”

“Words,” he says, wagging a ringed finger at her as he retakes his seat. “Words would’ve been a compliment. You touched me.”

She rolls her eyes flippantly.

“Please. We’ve shaken hands, you have a habit of grabbing my shoulder,” Beth rattles off. “We touch all the time.”

He inhales through his nose, directing his incredulous look at the beer bottle still resting in front of him.

“Not like that.”

“You make it sound inappropriate.”

“It was, though I guess you didn’t understand that until I explicitly told you to forget about sex.”

She flips her hand in a vague gesture. Perhaps her pale inner wrist is a show of vulnerability when he normally only sees the back of her wrist, during play.

“I’ve had a lot to drink,” she says.

Benny looks up and over at her with a knowing smile.

“I’ve had the same and somehow, I don’t think you’re compromised in the slightest.”

Beth just smiles and raises her beer to her lips, holding his gaze as she swallows. With a sigh, he swipes his own bottle from the bar and joins her.

“Benny,” she says wryly, “is that wise?”

“Long drive tomorrow. Might as well be hungover for it. That’ll give me something to think about.”

She snorts.

“You could always talk to me.”

That seems to remind him of the arrangement they’ve lately made, whereby she sleeps on his couch by night and receives tutelage from him by day. Though she’s just beaten him, he has the audacity to pull her side of their match apart, belatedly coaching her through all the other moves she could’ve made at various points, as though he’s forgotten that she saw all of those variations in her mind throughout. It’s infuriating. His inclination to patronize her until she pushes back makes her wonder how they’re going to survive until Paris. The insistent, instructive tone also makes her want to laugh. There are probably people, probably lots of people, with whom Beth would have an easier time getting along. But there’s nobody she’d rather get along with than Benny.

At the bottom of the bottle, he signals for another and switches from recent to distant past, schooling her on historic matches (she’s already intimately familiar with all but one of his examples). He leaps from one to the next, referring to a handful, a dozen, in the same sentence, never waiting for her or checking that she’s keeping up. She is. She hasn’t lifted her drink since the last time, too fixated on watching Benny talk chess, which is possibly even more engaging than watching him play. Quite a feat. When he speaks—which is in a constant stream—he seems to be voicing her thoughts as they happen. He was right, in the cafeteria last night. They’re totally aligned. They see things the same way. If Beth could hold a conversation with herself, it would be exactly this. Subtracting the odd condescending look he shoots her way when she argues with him.

Eventually, softened by the tolerable amount of alcohol and the lateness of the hour, she props her cheek in her hand and teases him for his proclivity for impromptu lecturing. Benny holds himself together well, but his eyes are glassy from the beer and the impassioned chess sermon, his smile wavering woozily. He stares at her for a solid minute with his dark eyes and she (wrongly) assumes he’s searching his soused brain for a snappy comeback.

“I like your hair too,” he says.

Trying not to let the thrill of the implication show on her face, Beth unhurriedly crosses her legs, smooths her skirt, and stretches her foot towards him until she can run the side of it up his shin. A strange expression comes over his features. He reaches out, aiming for her hair, or maybe her cheek, but struggling to gauge precisely how far away she’s sitting. Smiling, she sighs and briefly clasps his hand in hers, only long enough to lower it and give it a consoling pat.

“Come on, Benny. You’ve had enough.”

—

“Where am I?” he asks groggily from the backseat. Then, scrambling up (she knows because he grabs at her seat and it tugs her blouse), he repeats the question.

“In the car,” Beth answers, smiling to herself and keeping her eyes forward.

“And where is the car, Beth?”

“On the road,” she replies in Russian.

He waves her off with clear irritation as he twists and heaves to climb from the backseat to the front. Thumping down into the passenger seat, he glares at her. She catches it in the corner of her eye.

“I’m sorry,” she says, “it sounded like a question from one of my lessons. You could try to occasionally sound less pedagogical.”

“It’s too early for that shit.”

“Too early for preparing for my future as a chess player? That doesn’t sound like you at all.”

“Oh, and I’m patronizing?” He groans, so she doesn’t respond. “I feel like death. How’d I get in the car?”

“You walked. I helped a little.”

He huffs through his nose.

“Well,” Beth argues against that doubtful noise, “you said last night that you wanted to leave for New York in the afternoon. I prefer travelling early, and you certainly weren’t in any shape to drive.”

“For all I remember, I never proposed any plan to bring you there and this is a kidnapping.”

“Yes, I’m going to hold the great Benny Watts for ransom. You’ve found me out.”

“The cheerful sarcasm is giving me a headache.”

“That would be your hangover at work.”

At last, he laughs. She glances over to see him stretching his legs as far forward as he can in this cute little car. She shouldn’t say anything. Not a word. But.

“You said you liked my hair too.”

The road’s empty, so Beth chances a longer look at Benny when he doesn’t respond. He clears his throat and delivers his excuse.

“I had a lot to drink. Too much.”

“You did,” she agrees.

His gaze wanders over to hers and she snaps her eyes straight ahead. She can feel him about to say something; it unnerves her and she adjusts her grip on the wheel. He isn’t ready to admit his attraction to her while sober, he’s already proven that, but she isn’t an overly patient person. She goes out and does things for herself, including opening up the opportunity for Benny to possibly say that his bullshit no-sex rule was only voiced because he’s as afraid as she is. Afraid to want and need. Beth holds her chin high, knowing he’s not about to do anything more to end her loneliness than give up his couch and drill her on chess maneuvers. Maybe she’ll forget that they ever came close.

The rising sun is in her eyes. She squints into the defiant burn on the horizon as she continues to steer them east.

“Can I ask you something?”

She nods.

“Why the hell are you wearing my hat?”

Beth laughs and lifts a hand to touch the brim.

“I like it,” she says. “What do you have to say to that?”