#it's almost four omg someone save me

[reiderwriter]

Hi!!! I really love your writing 🥺 Idk how this works so Idk if my request is alright so If it's ok for you to write it, I got this idea about Spencer turning into a player/manwhore after maeve died so he's not into y/n in the beginning but the others always joke about how she's totally in love with him and he doesn't believe until he starts to notice little things she does for him(like getting him coffee every morning, remembering everything he says) so he start to fall for her. Genre: smut with soft!Dom Spencer, dirty talk, degradation(please no daddy kink) (Sorry if it's to long, I read it's best for you if we give as much detail as possible so that's that) I'm going to identify myself with this emoji 🥺 when I read the fic or in my next requests, hope I gave you something to write with.

A/N: Thank you for the request and omg this plot has given me brain rot since you sent it in 💀 I accidentally made this a little angst-heavy for the first half but there's a very "happy ending" if you catch my drift. I hope you love it! ❤️

Summary: Spencer Reid's heart is broken. But in healing himself in the arms of countless woman, he doesn't realise he's breaking yours.

Word count: 4.6k

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, angst, oral (F receiving), fingering, P in V penetration, dirty talk, degradation of you squint a little, soft!Dom Spencer is incredibly soft.

My masterlist with all my other works is here, and my requests are open!

It had taken four whole months before someone on the team had confronted Spencer about his grief, his lack of sleep, his overall dreariness, and they were almost shocked that it wasn’t you that did it. When Rossi had walked up to him, offering a story about his Uncle Sal in an attempt to get him to open up, or at least seek help, the others were on the other side of the glass, shooting looks over at you, quietly enquiring with their eyes about why it hadn’’t been you to offer him that out.

But you had, you’d been trying. You’d been following him around, taking him food every couple days to make sure he was eating, sticking around to make sure that he wasn’t lonely. You’d even cleaned up after him on the particularly hard days, where he didn’t want to move from his bed and couldn’t bring himself to go outside if there was no work, no one else to save. But you couldn’t offer him more, because he already had all of you.

You’d first realised that you were in love with Spencer Reid a few months after you’d joined the team. You’d been bought on as a fresh set of eyes on a case that had a lot more to do with you then the rest of the team had been led to believe.

Your high school boyfriend had been the victim of a notorious highway murderer, and you yourself had been kidnapped by the unsub, put in hell for the following three days and escaped with your life only because of an earlier BAU team, including agents Hotchner and Rossi. When bodies had started turning up on the same stretch of highway, you needed to be involved or you’d never prove to yourself that you could do what they did to save you. That you’d be able to put your feelings aside and catch monsters.

You’d found the man responsible of course, and in restraining yourself from putting a bullet in his brain, you’d found yourself a place on the team, and some peace for a time. And then Spencer happened.

You really should have known. You were always fond of the nerdy type, of men who had such deep interests that they forgot to pay attention to social queues, who had too many cute habits (like purposefully mismatching socks) that you couldn’t help but find endearing. You’d grown close quickly, with the man grateful that there was finally someone to listen to him ramble and not judge him, and you grateful that he also held himself back enough, listened closely and well to remember so many details about your conversations. You knew an eidetic memory helped, but it was the care in the small actions, like buying you the beanie baby you lost as a child but still mourned, that you’d mentioned in conversation a grand total of one time, that really solidly made you realise. You were in love with him and had dug yourself a hole that you weren’t going to be able to climb out of anytime soon.

You’d almost told him once. Convinced that if you just explained your feelings, he’d suddenly feel the same or realise that he felt the same way, too. You’d opened your mouth to let the words run freely, but he beat you to it.

“I’ve met someone, and she’s totally brilliant and I think I might love her, and that must be an insane thing to say considering I’ve never even seen her face.” You’d willed the broken pieces of your heart together as you forced a smile on your face, ready to listen to the man who owned your heart smile for another, live for another, breath for another.

When Maeve had ultimately passed away, you knew that you’d never be able to say those words to him. You weren’t going to be the replacement for a dead woman, and you weren’t going to push those feelings on him when he was grieving. But you loved him and he needed you, so you stayed.

On the nights where he was so angry with the world that his words were biting, on the days where he said almost nothing so trapped inside his brain, in the hours between dusk and dawn where there was no rest for him, wiping away the tears that fell silently and just being as near to him as he needed.

You had some experience in broken hearts, anyways. You might as well put it to good use.

–X–

It had taken five whole months since Maeve’s death for the team to realise that Spencer was changing. He was still the same person intrinsically, ready to spring into a conversation about absolutely anything and everything that interested him at the drop of a hat, still debating with Penelope about which of them was smarter, still being teased in that playful way by Morgan. But there was a confidence to him now that was almost dangerous in the fact that it was uncharted territory for him.

You’d noticed it first on one of your regular coffee runs. The two of your were so serious about your coffee tasting like anything but actual coffee that you’d bonded over the need for a sweet treat, and had been going for coffee before all of your office shifts almost since you’d started. You were glad to have him finally back by your side, making stupid jokes about how many philosophers it would take to change a lightbulb, and actually smiling and laughing with you that you almost didn’t notice anything amiss.

But when the barista who took his order carefully slipped him her number - something she’d been doing for the whole six months you’d been frequenting that cafe - for once, he hadn’t thrown it away. He’d taken a lingering look at the digits inked neatly into the napkin and quietly slipped it into his pocket. You were confused to say the least, but since that night of your almost confession, there had been a boundary between you two in that sense.

It was almost as if, if you didn’t ask questions about Spencer’s love life, it was like he wasn’t out there, being in love. With Maeve it had worked fine because he’d never met her, and honestly, until you’d started trying to save her he hadn’t brought her up a lot. But now, you were too afraid to break your own heart again to check up on him, deciding to let it go for your own well-being.

The others had noticed soon enough. Comments about a pep in his step, his flirtacious manner with some of the female witnesses. He’d gained a few claps on the back from Morgan after closed off conversations that you had decided you were thankful not to have heard.

Because if you never saw or heard what Reid was doing, and apparently doing with multiple women, multiple times a week, then it couldn’t hurt you anymore than you were already hurting now.

–X–

It took seven months from Maeve’s death to realise that you were only fooling yourself this entire time.

Despite his new-found release, the therapy he’d found in the beds of women whose names he never learnt, there was one thing that you could still rely on with Reid, and that was your Friday night Star Trek watch-along.

You’d mentioned once a few weeks into your job that you’d never seen it before, and he’d had this absolutely starry-eyed look on his face in bewilderment, that when he’d half-heartedly suggested you watch it together, you’d leapt at the chance. Since there was so much of it, here you were over a year later, still keeping to that Friday night ritual. You’d watched it together in motels in the middle of nowhere, you’d watched it together over the Christmas holidays, you’d watched it together in the days directly after Maeve’s death, and tonight was supposed to be no different.

You pulled up to his apartment and knocked on the door, and when you couldn’t immediately hear him shout to “come in” from his kitchen as he was preparing the popcorn, you knew that something was wrong. His door was always unlocked, and he laughed at your habit of knocking on the door, insisting that you could just walk in anytime you needed.

Now that you needed to, your hand seemed heavier than ever. You gripped the cold metal of the handle, knowing exactly what you would find on the other side of the door, but still wanting to live in the clear denial of it. You prayed it was something else keeping him distracted.

You let yourself in and were welcomed with the sight that shattered your heart for the final time. There were clothes scattered across the floor, male and female. Shoes discarded in the heat of the moment. You didn’t want your eyes to follow, but your feet weren’t listening as they walked you to the bedroom door, thrust wide open, and you saw him there finally.

“Shit, Y/N, what are you doing here?” he scrambled to pull his clothes back on, to cover whatever woman it was underneath him that day, to make sure you didn’t see anymore of the image that would be burned into the back of your brain for the rest of your life.

You couldn’t say anything. You knew that he had been doing this, doing it to cope, doing it to move on, doing it to feel a sense of intimacy after he didn’t get that with Maeve. But here was the irrefutable proof that he’d never even looked at you with an ounce of the feeling you had for him. You held up the bag of snacks you usually bought to your Trek marathons as a response, the tears filling up your eyes rendering you mute as you finally tore yourself out of the room.

“Oh god, it’s Friday. I didn’t realise…. I’m sorry, can we do a raincheck, Y/N?” He guided you further out of the room, placing a hand to the small of your back to help move you along. Something in you snapped then and you recoiled from his touch, whipping your head up to him and just staring at him with all the defiance you could muster. He had broken your heart, you weren’t going to let him dismiss you that quickly.

“Y/N, why are you crying? What’s wrong, what happened? Tell me and I’ll do everything I can to fix it.” He finished his words, and made to wipe the tears from your face, but you slapped his hands away from you before he could make contact.

“Don’t… just don’t touch me, Spencer.” Those were the only words you could offer in explanation before you turned on your heel and ran straight out of his apartment for the last time.

–X–

It took one month from you storming out of his apartment for Spencer to realise that he hadn’t dreamt of Maeve in the same amount of time. Where his dreams had been full of her asking him to dance, they were now full of you recoiling from his touch, refusing to speak to him outside of your professional work, withdrawing into yourself and crying. The worst ones were the ones where you were crying because he tried desperately to hold you, to wipe the kisses away, but everytime he tried you moved further and further from his reach.

It had been a month of you ignoring him, and he still didn’t know what went wrong. Yes, you’d caught him in bed with a girl, but you knew he was doing that. You’d known from the start, and he’d known that you’d known, so surely it wasn't just that.

Morgan wasn’t helping him on that front either. He’d explained the awkward run-in in his apartment, desperate for some answers and received some pretty curt replies.

“Pretty boy, if you don’t realise what you did wrong, then there’s nothing I’m going to do to help you. You’re on your own until then.” He’d refused to talk about it anymore.

He’d thought a few times about talking to the girls on the team, but you’d been partnered with JJ for the last month on cases to avoid him, and there was a bond there between the two of you that he didn’t want to overstep.

It was in this confusion that Rossi found him again, taking pity on the boy wandering around like a lost puppy in the absence of your friendship.

“Kid, what is up with you again recently?”

“Y/N has been avoiding me, and I don’t know why. Derek said it was my fault because she… well she walked in on something that I’d rather she hadn’t, you know, and I don’t know why she still won’t talk to me because it’s been a month.” He rambled out, thankful that someone was finally hearing him out.

“If I’m understanding your insinuation here, I think I know what the problem is.” Rossi sat back, choosing his words carefully, so as not to startle the younger man. But he was so worked up all over you, missing your voice, your touch, your company, and just wanting you back in whatever way he could get you that he jumped at the very suggestion of answers.

“Then please, tell me, I’m begging you. I’ve been tearing my hair out trying to figure out what it is and I just miss her so much that it hurts.”

“Spencer, you know I usually don’t get involved in the personal lives of my coworkers, but just listen to me now, nice and calmly - and dont try to interrupt me or say a word. I know what I’m talking about, okay?” He gave a quick nod of his head, waiting with baited breath for Rossi to continue.

“The girl is in love with you. Head over heels, in fact, and has been for quite some time. And she was holding it together real nice until you decided to become this casanova and now she is heartbroken,” Spencer looked like he was about to interrupt, to spew out that that couldn’t possibly be the case, but Rossi silenced him with a look. “If you don’t believe me, you use that memory of yours and you do what you do best. Think about it.”

–X–

For the next three months, that was all Spencer did. He thought about every interaction you’d ever had. The blush on your cheeks when he’d introduced himself for the first time (and refused to shake your hand). The countless nights spent curled up on opposite sides of his couch, laughing and crying together at silly sci-fi shows. The way you’d thrown yourself into his arms after a particularly gruelling case, buried your head in his chest instead of anyone else's. The day you’d finally confessed your past to him, how he’d felt your heart beating as he held a finger to your pulse, hand gently holding yours waiting for you to finish describing the time you’d stared death in the face.

You’d noticed the change, but you wouldn’t let yourself acknowledge it fully. Noticed how he’d shoot you lingering glances from across the room, how he’d look like he had something to say when you announced you were leaving for the night. How he’d ask everyone together what their friday night plans were just to hear you admit that you were going home alone in the company of the rest of the team.

You’d noticed, and god had it given you a spark of hope that you wished would die quickly. You’d noticed, and so you weren’t as surprised when he turned up on your doorstep four months after you’d last talked to him, on another friday evening.

“What are you doing here?” you greeted him, the words coming out colder than you wanted them to seem, inwardly cursing yourself for letting your emotions get the better of you.

“Don’t make me leave, please, I just have something to ask and I’ll leave you alone.”

“Spencer, it’s been a long day, and I just want to go to bed so-”

“Do you still love me?” His words cut you off and your heart all but stopped. Your tongue grew heavy, and the inside of your mouth tasted acidic, knowing that you weren’t going to be able to fully stomach whatever conversation was coming.

“Excuse me?” you spluttered out eventually.

“Three months ago, Rossi said that you were in love with me, and I need to know that if that was the case, are you still in love with me now?” You expected some cold curious look to be gracing his face, but you looked up to see his eyes perfectly trained on your own, his mouth set in a line, a look of stony determination set on his face.

“If I say yes, what difference does that make?” you tried not to spit out the words, but you had no control over the venom in your heart.

“If you say yes, then I am going to kiss you, and then I am going to spend every last day I have on the planet making up for being an idiot for the last two years.” Your breath caught in your throat, and, not for the first time in front of Spencer Reid, you were stunned into silence.

“So, what is your answer?” He looked down at you again, and you started to see the cracks in his stony facade, started to see through to the man who desperately wanted you to say yes, to scream it at him.

The word hadn’t even fully formed on your tongue before he was crashing down into you, his mouth pleading for forgiveness and wrapping you up in him. He grabbed you and pulled you back into your apartment, whispering into each of your kisses.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.” The two of you stumbled into the space, but he never moved his hands from the sides of your face, cupping your cheeks gently as his lips brushed against yours again and again.

Your legs gave way beneath you by the time you’d reached the open space of your living room, but instead of catching you, he fell to his knees with you, content for the two of you to just sit there together in each other's embrace.

“You’ve loved me this entire time, and I was too stupid to realise that you’re everything I need.” He kissed your mouth, your jaw, your neck, moving his hands from your face to your waist, pulling you in deep again as you desperately pulled away in search of breath. That only toppled you further to the ground, and he came down on top of you again as well, one hand coming up to cup the back of your head so you didn’t hurt yourself.

And you kissed him back just as fervently when your breath returned, listening to every apology and forgiving him with every touch. His kisses said “I’m sorry,” and yours said “I know,” and that was all the communication you needed for now.

He pulled your shirt over your head eventually, and your skin met the cold tile of the floor, a shiver running up your spine causing you to buck your hips up into his. He hissed at the contact and pushed his bodyweight down further into yours, his legs slotting perfectly between your splayed ones now.

“It took me too long to realise, and it has taken me too long to act on the knowledge, but I am not going to let you go again, do you understand?” he pushed his lips into yours again before you could respond, and you clawed into his shoulders as he started grinding down into your body. His hand trailed up your waist to your breasts, pulling them free from the constraints of your bra, as he let his tongue slide down from your neck to your chest.

“I need to hear you say it baby, need you to say you understand, can you do that for me?” Your body burned under his attention, back arching desperately for more contact as his tongue swirled your nipple into his mouth, gasping breaths loud enough to fill the empty air of your apartment. His stiff cock was firmly pressing against your core now, barely clothed in the pajamas you’d pulled on before his arrival.

“Spencer, yes, I need you, I need you right now, please,” grabbed at either side of his face and pulled him back up so he was face to face with you. You initiated the kiss this time, and you could feel your heart soar at the tender kiss he met you with, thankful for the reciprocation.

“Not yet, baby, not yet, okay?” he whispered in your ear, trailing his hands down to your centre and slipping his hand under your clothes. “So fucking wet for me, baby. Just for me, right, baby?” His fingers found your clit, and he started rolling it between his fingers. He worked slowly enough to drive you insane, but giving you just enough relief that you couldn’t complain.

“Yes, Spencer, yes, yes it’s all for you. Only for you,” you managed to gasp out. He shifted his hand after a few minutes, still pressing love bites down your chest, claiming you as his in the most animalistic way possible. He spread the wetness that pooled at your core around, making sure that his fingers were coated in you before pushing a single digit into your aching hole, thumb continuing to draw circles around your bundle of nerves.

“That’s my little slut, so desperate for me, so needy for me.” His words shot through you, and you started thrusting your hips up desperate for more friction with his hand. He roughly pushed you back down, pinning you under him with his free hand.

“No, baby, I’m in charge here. You sit back and relax and let me make you feel good,okay?” His words soothed you, the growing heat in the pit of your stomach fizzing in anticipation. His kisses dropped lower and lower, until he was finally pulling off your remaining clothing and replacing his thumb with his lips.

“Fuck Spencer, if you keep doing that, I’m going to-” another sharp intake as he pumped a second finger in and out of you.

“Going to what, baby? Use your words?”

“I’m going to cum, Spencer please, I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum.,,” you rode out your high with his face stuffed between your legs still, swallowing your loud moans for fear of the entire neighbourhood knowing just how obsessed you were with this man.

“You did so good for me, baby, so good. I love you so much, okay? I’m going to take care of you from now on, okay?” He began pressing kisses to your mouth again, and you could taste yourself against him now.

“I need you so badly, baby, are you going to let me have you?” He started pulling off his own clothing now, removing his shirt and tie, but never once leaving your embrace for too long.

“I love you so much, baby. I’m sorry for not realising before, but I realise now. I was so terrible to you after Maeve, and god, even before she died I was using you as a therapist to talk through my thoughts and fears, but I was too dense to even realise that I was only in love with Maeve because she was safe. I couldn’t meet her, couldn’t touch her, didn’t have the chance to ruin anything I had with her. I couldn't realise that she wasn’t you, that she wasn’t going to feel like you do in my arms. And maybe some part of me loved her, but we were using each other, and I was using her to avoid confronting how I felt about you.”

“And how I feel for you is different. I am obsessed with you, Y/N. I am so madly in love with you that the last four months have felt like hell. I could have emptied myself of all the blood in my body and still my heart would be beating for you. Do you understand?”

You answered in a chaste kiss on his lips, sweet and quick, but as much as you could muster without driving yourself to the brink of insanity getting yourself high on his touch.

“Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want now, okay?” He’d unbuttoned his pants shortly after that and you stared transfixed at the head of his cock poking up and out of them, desperate to see it, touch it, taste it.

“I need you inside of me, Spence, please,” you cried out, tears welling in your eyes at the tender contact, the confession. All the emotions you’d been burying for the last four months bubbling to the surface, dancing around your head as he made you dizzy with desire.

“You’re so perfect, Y/N. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,” with the last of his clothing removed he was finally free, taking his heavy,aching cock in his hand and lining himself up with you. With a single thrust, and another confession of love, he gave you what you wanted so much.

“You wanted me like this, baby? So desperate to have my cock inside you?” he plagued you with questions as you adjusted to his size, watching your face for any discomfort as you mumbled out yes after yes.

“Me too, baby. I wanted you just like this, wanted you so desperate and dripping for me that I could slide right in, wanted you like this for me and only me.” He began thrusting then, slowly pumping his cock into you, heavy with each return, the sound of skin slapping against skin joining the ensemble of your moans.

“I love you,” he said again, and with each thrust of his hips, and you responded in kind, matching his thrusts with your own and pressing a kiss into the skin of his shoulders. You were so desperate and needy, so starved of touch and starved of one another that neither of you lasted long. Your bodies were so in sync that as soon as he’d pushed you over the edge for a second time, you could feel him spill himself inside you, filling you completely.

He rolled off you, but didn’t leave you there, picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom. He cleaned you up as much as possible, then folded you back into his arms, holding you again so tenderly that you let the tears flow down your cheeks for a final time.

It was Friday night, and he was here, and he loved you. You weren’t going to let him go again.

[strawberries-and-summer-days]

clarisse la rue x reader where the reader and clarisse are bsfs and reader is being bullied by a couple of aphrodite girls, and clarisse find out and flips out then clarisse confesses :))) i love your writing!!

THATS MY BEST FRIEND....RIGHT? . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

pairing: clarisse la rue x iris!fem!reader

warnings: swearing, violence (mentions of physical assault - clarisse calling the girls out), teenagers being bitches and calling ppl names

a/n: this was soo cute to write omg. this also would've been out sooner but then tumblr shut down before i had the chance to save it 😭

if you walked up to any camper and asked them which two campers were best friends every single on of them would go clarisse and y/n.

it was like a second nature to them by now.

clarisse a daughter of ares and y/n a daughter of iris. not the most likely duo, but you fit. you clicked in a way you hadn't with anyone else.

you were the only person who could talk clarisse down when she was worked up. and she was the only person who could break through to you when you were lost in your world of paints and colors.

you had first met clarisse your third week at camp. you were sitting in the stands watching campers spar - well watching was a stretch, you were actually painting - and clarisse had finished up with the camper she was fighting. she had walked up the stands and plopped straight down next to you with a huge grin on her face. it had been almost irresistible to not look back up at her with a matching smile.

that was the first time someone had ever managed to pull you away from your paintings. it wasn't the last.

from then on you and clarisse had practically been inseparable. you were the camp's unofficial official bsf's.

clarisse.

your mind often drifts to clarisse when you paint. her soft skin, curly luscious hair, and adorable smile. they constantly popped into your mind - it was hard not to paint something clarisse related honestly.

"hey you." a presence drops beside you on the grass.

"hi," you offer softly, looking up from your painting which surprise surprise was a painting of clarisse.

"ooh i like this one," she says pointing at the now dry canvas - how long were you staring at it?? "it really brings out my eyes."

you dip your head blushing. "uh thanks."

"hey," clarisse says tilting your head up. "don't be embarrassed. i love it. its one hundred percent going with my collection." her gentle touch sends tingles through your skin and causes you to blush even more.

she grins and picks up the painting, "im gonna put it with the others in my cabin, i'll be right back." clarisse picks the painting up not even listening to your protests of how its technically not finished and races off to her cabin.

you sit the and pull out another canvas, determined to not paint clarisse twice in one morning, its happened before.

"look at the ugly ass painter and her little canvas," a sneer comes from in front of you. you don't hear them already lost in your world of paints.

"what shit painting are you doing now?"

you still don't hear them. the only way you could notice their presence was the shadow above you - but again you're still wrapped in a world of colors merging and dancing over the canvas.

you're painting a bouquet of wildflowers. the colors blending perfectly together. you're immensely happy with they ways its turning out but then voices start to break through your haze.

"hey bitch? are you ignoring me?"

"art slut? did you hear me? that's the ugliest thing ever and i'm not talking about the painting."

a hand whips across your face and someone rips you away from the painting. "you in there art bitch?" you finally notice the four aphrodite girls standing in front of your.

the same four girls have been terrorising you for months. and they're careful, never coming up to you whenever clarisse is around. right now? perfect example.

two hands grip you arms to keep you back and the main girl, ellie, steps forward picking up your painting and a handful of dirt.

"NO!" you shriek lurching forward.

"what you don't like my improvements? i made it match. the dirt is the same color of this shit." she looks at you with malice. "and for the final touch," she stabs a nearby stick straight through ripping the painting to shreds.

tears are springing to you eyes.

your painting. YOUR PAINTING.

"aww are you crying?" ellie smirks and then steps forward picking your paints up and pouring them straight onto you. she steps forward and smears it across you writing slut and bitch across your front. you try and squirm as the second girl steps forward with handfuls of dirt and sprinkles it over you.

tears are freely streaming down your face now and you slump, the fight leaving you quickly.

"WHAT THE FUCK?" a loud voice booms behind you all.

the four girls freeze, letting you go.

you fall forwards a sob escaping your mouth at the sight of your painting.

your painting.

"what the ever loving hell are you doing?" clarisse's voice is deadly calm and she stalks towards y/n collapsed on the ground.

the aphrodite girls all step back from you and clarisse takes a single step forward. "we weren't doing anything!" the two who were holding you say panicked.

"no you were doing something," clarisse stalks closer the girls back pedalling in fear. "you were holding my best friend back while those two bitches assaulted her."

"we weren't assaulting her!" the girl beside ellie shrieks. "it was just a joke!"

"you one hundred were assaulting her." clarisse points to you. "does this look like someone who thinks its a joke?"

"well if she wasn't such a bitch and listened to me the first time i talked we wouldn't have had to," ellie seethes.

clarisse snaps.

she practically flies on top of the girls - and yes girls, plural. clarisse crash tackles ellie and the other girl to the ground sending punches to their faces. "motherfucking bitches," she spits and she yanks on a handful of hair.

shrieks and cries come from the girls causing campers to come over and watch the scene unfold. now look, you're not exactly an extremely popular camper, but everyone knows you and likes you, your sweet to nearly everybody you meet so when they see you on the ground covered in paint and dirt, their surprised looks turn into egging clarisse on to get a better hit. some other ares kids join in happy to put some bitchy aphrodites back in their place.

your siblings gasp in unison when they see you helping you off the ground and picking up the strewn paint bottles and shredded painting sending death glares that hades would be proud of.

"why is this such a big deal?" ellie laughs from beneath clarisse. "you act like you're in love with her."

"of course i am!" clarisse all but roars sending more punches into her. only stopping when several of her siblings hauled her off ellie because chiron and mr d had shown up.

they both - well chiron - looked at you with sympathetic eyes telling your siblings to help you get cleaned up and to lay down for a while.

you didn't hear them. you didn't hear anything but clarisse's voice.

you act like you're in love with her.

of course i am.

of course i am.

of course i am.

you couldn't think of anything else as you showered, washing away the paint, dirt and tears. you didn't think of anything else when your siblings guided you back into your cabin and into bed. you didn't think of anything else as you fell asleep.

you didn't think of anything else until you felt the mattress dip next to you, a warm hand stroking your forehead, stirring you from your sleep.

"hey you," clarisse smiles down at you.

"hi," you whisper.

"today's been shit huh?" she looks down at you with concern.

"yeah..."

"how are you feeling?"

"better," you smile gently, it fades when you work up the nerve to say. "hey about earlier-"

"i'm sorry for flipping out," clarisse says. "its just that she was saying all that shit about you, and i hated it, you looked so broken and small on the ground and i, just snapped, im so sorry, really, i am. i shouldn't have done that without checking on you first but i knew if i did that, that bitch was going to get away with it. im so so sorry, y/n. please forg-" you cut her off in a moment of boldness sitting up and placing a kiss on the corner of her mouth.

clarisse sits there stunned, her mouth slightly gapes open and you smile at her.

"did you mean it?" you ask hoping she understand you were talking about her earlier 'of course i am' outbreak.

she closes her mouth and nods speaking softly, in a nervous way. "yeah, i meant it."

"good. because i feel the same way."

clarisse lights up at that, a huge grin spreading across her face. "really?"

"really."

you intertwine your hands together grateful then that the cabin was empty - clarisse probably cleared it out when she came to visit. you'd never admit this to her, but quiet a few of your siblings are scared of her.

you grin back at her and pull her face down to connect with yours feeling the colors explode into the world, light dancing around the two of you in a beautiful circle.

maybe today hasn't been too bad after all.

a/n: unedited! this made me giggle and smile wayyyy to much lmao

©strawberries-and-summer-days please do not steal, use or repost my works.

[overly-dramatic-artist]

Week One: Introduction!

@encanto-extended-edition

OMG how have I never done a proper introduction of my girl??? Anyways…

Full name: Angela Leilani Yaamil Morales Estrada

Age at the time of the movie: 48 years old (December 8th, 1901)

Angel was initially a name holder for the reader insert in my fic, “Why did it have to be me?” She was never intended to become a full fledged OC, but thanks to several supportive friends, Angela evolved into what she is now.

Angela is born to parents Guillermo and Anamaria in 1901, and shortly after childbirth, Anamaria sadly passes away, leaving Angela to be raised primarily by Anamaria’s parents, Quinuama and Raymundo. She is the youngest of six cousins on her maternal side, and she knows very little about her father’s extended family. The passing of Anamaria puts Guillermo in an inconsolable depression, leaving his daughter to be brought up by her grandparents due to his emotional absence. Her family owns and runs a tailoring shop in the Encanto, renowned for their fine fiber arts and beautifully crafted clothes. Angela is best known for her impressive bead work and crocheting, as she enjoys fixating on tiny details.

At age five, she befriends the Madrigal triplets, the four of them becoming close companions, but especially between Angela and Bruno. The two of them grow close over the years, considering the other to be their best friend. I’ll save the juicy details of their companionship for Week two, but to summarize, their friendship takes a dramatic twist following the breakup of Angela and her fiancé when she is 19.

Following in her mother’s footsteps, she joins the church choir at a young age, and quickly blossoms into a vocal star, devoting her time to organizing musical events and writing songs. Later in life, she takes to traveling outside of the Encanto, something inside her yearning to know more about the world and escape the limitations she feels trapped in. She gains herself a notable reputation as a performer in multiple social clubs and lounges, her name taking her across South America, and eventually across the sea.

Angela’s personality and mannerisms are based a lot on my own. She is extremely caring and compassionate for others, but often has a hard time deciphering her own emotions, and will usually bottle up her complicated feelings to save herself from causing trouble. She is often lovingly criticized as being overly dramatic by her family and friends, causing her to become extremely cautious and anxious about how she presents herself to others. Sometimes, something small will set off her temper, and she gets very cold and unresponsive as a defense mechanism, or if something makes her deeply upset after a buildup of repressed feelings and stress, she will fall apart into tears. Often times, her stimming gets interpreted as flirtatious behavior, and her attempts at masking usually have the same effect (hair twirling, too much eye contact, smiling and nodding).

A few little bits of information and trivia:

The bracelet she is almost always seen wearing was gifted to her on her fifth birthday. It had originally belonged to her mother. It is made up of pearls, jade, and a thin gold chain. Her rosary is constructed of similar materials.

Leilani was her intended name in canon, as Guillermo wanted to name her after his mother, but Anamaria immediately called her baby ‘her angel’ when she was born, so the name Angela was chosen instead and Leilani was bestowed as her second name.

I imagine her voice sounding like that of Angela Aguilar when she’s younger, and evolving into a vocal powerhouse like Beyoncé or Selena.

She is terrible at cooking. Her grandmother and aunts had tried to ingrain the kitchen skills into her at a young age, but it stressed her out because she wasn’t naturally gifted in it. She can make a good cup of coffee, but it’s best to leave to crafting of fine foods in the hands of someone more capable and confident.

💖Some amazing art from some amazing people💖

@prophetic-hijinks @egofan4evr @lvnamuraart @dororoxpenana 💖

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

omg I want to know, how were the Napoleon Queer Wars of 2014 like?? 😬

oh lord lol

It's been almost ten years and I still get weird YIKES reaction in my skin when I think about it, or when people in the current Napoleonic corner act a bit like the people from back then. Which is a me issue, and not anyone else's problem. But it is why I don't really engage with anyone from the Napoleonic side of tumblr anymore - too many bad memories and bad taste in my mouth.

Essentially, someone posted the (in)famous Cronin quote re: Napoleon telling Coulaincourt about the Feelings He Gets When Looking At Someone Handsome Friend Shaped. They speculated about queer* implications of this.

--

*necessary disclaimer about modern concepts of sexuality not being applicable to the past yadda yadda yadda. I'm using short hand here, folks. No one needs to jump down my throat.

--

A bunch of the Very Serious History Blogs(tm) came down hard on them being like "you're a fool, absolutely not, Napoleon was Straight(tm)". Someone else replied being like "Well what about That Letter from N to Josie concerning a Certain Tsar of Russia?"

I forget how That Letter was explained away, but it was.

Some name calling nonsense and really aggresive replies where bandied back and forth. People were passive aggresive and mean. People ignored each other then wrote vagueing posts about it. The usual damned foolishness you would expect.

Then someone else referenced that one book whose whole thesis is basically Napoleon was Probably Bi. The book, I will say, isn't great. I'd never recommend it. But it was floating around in the 2014/15 world of Napoleonic Tumblr.

And oh man was the person who suggested it torn to shreds. Eviscerated. It was like watching a train wreck and the by standers decided to lock the doors of the train and not let the passengers off while everything burned.

There were weird spin-off dramas from this nonsense where people got into whether or not being interested in Napoleon made you a war crime sympathizer. (Some things never change on this webbed site.) Messy, messy. Also, utterly dumb.

Anyway - it ended up weirdly boiling down to two sides: Are You A Serious Historian/Take History Seriously(tm) Therefore Anti-Napoleon Possibly Being Something Like Queer Even If Never Acted On versus People Having Fun(tm) on the Internet Who Now Have Their Backs Up and Are Responding Perhaps Unwisely.

There was a third party, which I was part of at that time** (no longer, since I left academia), which was the "We Do Real History As A Day Job, Because We Are In Academia, but Lol Like Hell Would I Think to do Serious History on the Blue Hell Site. I'm Present for Shits and Giggles and Idle Speculation and Chats. Nothing Here is Serious. Everyone Needs To Calm Down and Take Themselves Way Less Seriously." We were a small contingent, to say the least.

--

**this is not to say I didn't walk away with egg on my face. Because I did. My comportment wasn't great and it's something I've been trying to be better about ever since.

It's not a time I think anyone save like four Napoleonic-interested blogs can look back on without blame.

--

But yeah - it was a real bad time on here. People were called names and cruel, cruel messages were sent to various and sundry by various and sundry. People deactivated over it. Friendships were literally torched because of it. There was a lot of issues with: "What Is Tone When Jumping On Someone's Post?? We don't know how to gauge it! Are you being mean? Are you being helpful? Who knows!! But you sounded aggresive in your add on and so I had better respond aggressively as well."

All because some people took themselves too seriously and because other people were stupidly mean about something dumb.

If I sometimes come in really strong with five million disclaimers in my napoleon asks/responses, even just the silly, purely speculative ones that no one sensible expects Real Serious History to result from - questions that clearly fall into the camp of shit a friend would ask you at the bar after four pints - things like: "was he queer? do you think he had add/adhd? what do you speculate were mental health issues he may have had?" etc. it's because of this year/year-and-a-half shit show. (And my disclaimers don't always serve their purpose because this is, after all, the Piss on the Poor website and people lack attention to detail when reading. [That said, I'm just as guilty of it as well, so can't point too many fingers.])

anyway, the long and short is that MAN people were very anti-any idea that there might have been an iota of what we would term queerness in Napoleon. And MAN no one can be normal on this site about anything so of course there was unnecessary drama and hurt feelings and bitterness.

May we never repeat this stupid time.

[lambertdiary]

After All These Years - Chapter One

‎‎‎‎‎Chapter Two ✩ Chapter Three ✩ Chapter Four

Chapter Summary: Y/N and Dalton are childhood best friends who do everything together, but when the Lambert family moves away they are separated and forced to forget about each other.

Word Count: 1.7k+

Warnings: angst, mention of Dalton's coma, allusion to the further

A/N: omg I'm so excited to finally share with you this mini-series i've been working on. The story is entire based on this request by @daltonsqueen so thank you so so much for requesting it!! This first chapter is a little short since I wanted to use it exclusively to describe their friendship when they were kids (hopefully you guys still like it), but I promise next chapter is a lot longer! As always thank you guys for reading and feedback is always appreciated. Also I “accidentally” quoted one of Taylor Swift's songs.

MASTERLIST     ✩    SEND ME A REQUEST

Summer days were Y/N’s favorites. Especially when she got to stay home instead of driving around with her parents visiting family or going to boring restaurants, on days like those she could sleep in and beg for more time to play with her best friend, the nine year old that lived next door. His name was Dalton and his family has lived there for a lot longer than she or Dalton have been alive, but they met when they were both seven. 

She was an only child so before Dalton she felt lonely most of the time, of course she had friends but she could only play with them at school, so summers were extremely boring for the little girl. And something about her, she loved making friends. Friends were really important to her so having no one during school breaks was… upsetting. 

Until one hot summer morning when she heard her parents talking about a kid with a lemonade stand outside of the house next door “Can I go?” She has never befriended someone from her neighborhood, the other kids were older and not very nice to her, so if there was a potential friend living there she needed to know. 

“Sure sweetie, I don’t see why not” Her mom gave her a dollar and walked with her outside, staying on the front porch while Y/N made her way to the lemonade stand.

“I’m Y/N” She said as soon as she got there “My mom says you’re selling lemonade”

“Yes! Would you like to try some?” The little boy said happily, it didn’t look like he was selling much. 

“I only have one dollar” 

“I can give you two for one dollar!” 

“Okay” She gave him the dollar bill and watched as he pulled out 2 tiny cups and poured cold lemonade on them “What’s your name?”

“Dalton, this is my house” He said pointing at the house behind him. 

“That’s mine!” She exclaimed, happy someone her age lived so close to her. 

Dalton grabbed the cups and handed them to Y/N, who took them carefully. They were a little sticky on the sides since Dalton poured too much on them and spilled a little bit “Do you wanna play after you’re done with your lemonade stand?”

“Yes!” He seemed really excited “I have a pool in my backyard, do you wanna check it out?”

“I gotta ask my mom” Y/N replied, looking at her still standing by their front door.

“That’s okay, you can go ask her and come by later!”

“I will” Y/N replied before running back to her house, almost spilling the rest of the lemonade she just bought from Dalton “Mommy, can I go play with Dalton?”

“I don’t know, honey” She hesitated, directing her attention to the little kid, he was waving at her so she waved back.

“Pleaseee” Y/N was pouting and giving her puppy eyes, she really wanted to play with Dalton.

“Okay, why don’t I talk with Dalton’s mom and then we’ll see”

They became best friends that day, seeing each other nearly everyday. Y/N helped him with his lemonade stand after Dalton told her he was saving money to buy a new toy that apparently all the cool kids at his school had, and eventually, they did everything together, they told each other everything, from deep secrets any little kid would consider deep secrets to simple weird dreams. Dalton would tell her about this magical place he could visit every night and Y/N used to get secretly jealous she couldn’t go there. 

During school time they couldn’t play as much, but summers were when they would make up for all that lost time. Sometimes, they would even have sleepovers and spend more than 24 hours together so when summer was coming to an end, they would both be really sad. However, this time it was different.

“We’re moving to a new house” Dalton said out of nowhere. They were currently in Y/N’s living room, having snacks under a pillowfort they spent all morning building.

“Why?” Y/N asked, not knowing exactly what he meant.

“I don’t know” Dalton’s eyes were filling with tears “It’s really far away”

“Why can’t you stay here?” Y/N was about to start crying too.

“I don’t know. My parents took us to the new house yesterday and we were in the car for a really long time”

“You can stay here with me” She suggested “We can build a pillowfort in my room and that’s where you will sleep!” Y/N was satisfied with her solution, but Dalton knew that wasn’t an option.

He shook his head, making a few tears fall on his clothes “We are leaving on Friday”

“Before summer is over?”

“Yeah, my mom says we have to settle in before schools starts”

“What about our sleepovers?”

Dalton shrugged his shoulders “Maybe I can still visit you in my dreams”

“But what about me? You know I can’t see you or go where you go”

They talked about that the rest of the day, Y/N asking a million questions and Dalton not knowing how to respond. That’s when they experienced a heartbreak for the first time, two best friends being ripped apart from each other at a very young age. 

Y/N’s mom was almost as sad as they were. She knew how much Dalton meant to her and Dalton leaving meant Y/N being somewhat alone during the summer again. They truly loved each other, how could they not? The friendship between two little kids was the purest form of love that could ever exist.

The Lambert family left really early on Friday, but Y/N promised she would wake up on time to say goodbye. So there she was, standing in front of what used to be her best friend’s house, hugging Dalton goodbye. 

“It’s not fair” She whispered in Dalton's ear, trying really hard to steady her breathing with all that crying.

“But I will see you again, I promise” Dalton was also crying, and he couldn’t help but feel like his best friend was sad because of him “My mom says we can visit you one day” He said wiping his own tears.

“Will she talk to my mom?”

Dalton nodded before running up to his mom and taking a piece of paper from her hands “I made this for you” He said, giving it to Y/N, it was a beautiful drawing of the both of them. They were in the pillowfort, Dalton wearing his super hero costume and Y/N with her favorite baby blue pajamas.

“I will keep this forever” Y/N said, looking at the paper and bringing it closer to her heart.

All four parents looked at the kids, feeling for them. They were all amazed at the special connection they had and they were of course sad they had to break them apart. But unfortunately that wouldn’t change anything.

The drought was the very worse for the both of them, but especially for Y/N. Dalton had two siblings he could play with (that didn’t mean he wouldn't miss her), but Y/N went back to staying in her room all day. She still played and tried to have fun by herself, but all those games she and Dalton made up weren’t as fun without him.

Weeks went by and Dalton still hadn’t visited. Y/N would constantly ask her mom about him and why he broke his promise. She knew the reason, Dalton was in coma, but she didn’t think telling that to a little girl would be the best idea.

It wasn’t until a month later Y/N found out the truth. It was a mistake, she overheard her parents talking about Dalton and how he still hasn’t woken up from his coma. She didn’t know what that meant, so later when she confronted them about it they tried their best to explain it to her without making it sound as tragic as it really was. The last thing they wanted was for her to think he was dying, even though that’s what it looked like. So instead they just told her something like “He’s really sick so he has to go to sleep a lot, that’s why he can’t come visit you”

“Can’t we go visit him?” She asked crying, scared that her best friend was really sick.

Her parents at some point did consider the possibility of visiting him and his family, but discarded the idea when they realized what someone in a coma really looks like. They didn’t want little Y/N to see her best friend in such a… lifeless state “I’m sorry, honey. But we’ll have to wait until he gets better”

That was the last time she talked about him with her parents, any other time she tried to ask they didn’t really say anything and with time, she stopped asking. So her memory of him gradually faded away somehow, she stopped wondering about him, wondering if he was okay or if he was now gone. Maybe it was easier for her to block everything they lived together than to recall how painful losing him was.

But it was hard for Dalton too. He had a pretty rough few years after he moved. Being in a coma, forgetting a whole year of his life, having a complicated relationship with his dad, seeing his parents fight all the time and eventually get divorced. For years, he did think about Y/N a lot, he didn’t stop wondering about her but with so many things flooding his mind, he never really made time to reconnect. 

In the end, the memory of her stopped being so constant and with time it went away almost completely, just like everything else from his childhood. Except that he would occasionally remember her existence, anytime someone asked about his early years her name came to his mind, their friendship being the only distinct memory before everything went downhill. Dalton never talked about her though, he thought bringing up a childhood friend he moved away from years ago was a little weird, so he just didn’t. It seemed like everyone around him forgot about her, so maybe he should too.

[airplanned]

It’s really interesting to me how Displaced changed my perception of various NPC’s into something very personal, and I think it speaks to your excellent character building. Now I see someone like Amali and feel all warm and fuzzy, but to most players she’s almost inconsequential. How did you decide which NPC’s to flesh out? PS- I thought Tulin as the sage was hilarious after that scene of Link saving him when he was desperate to be champion

Thank you! I’m pretty proud of my fleshing out NPCs since totk came out and everyone’s like “OMG! It’s Mubbs!”

At first, I wanted to mix it up and have the champion not be who you expect (Teba), and then I wanted it to be someone who also had a dream that you could root for. So I went through the wiki to see who lived in Rito village. “Amali has five kids and wants a better Hyrule,” fit the bill really well. Also she’s got this thing where her husband isn’t around, and that could be a source of drama. Then her role expanded when I got to Gerudo Town and realized what was going to go down and how Amali would fit in perfectly at the big emotional moment.

For the potential Gerudo champions, I needed 4 NPCs with very different backstories/personalities so I could differentiate them and expand on them. So that was more scrolling through the wiki, picking people kind of at random and then rolling with it. I hadn’t decided who would win the tournament, so I wanted all four of them to have some kind of moment to get you to root for them in different ways.

So I guess short answer is that I pick someone and then expand them as I go.

(Lol, there’s also that but in AoC where Tulin also went back in time, and how is that possible??? And you have to rescue him.)

[fourstarsoutofnine]

(Sorry i haven’t been active or updating a lot I know that’s a bad impression since I just got here but there is so much going on rn in my life😭 here’s this small thing for compensation)

Chain as Taylor Swift songs/albums(ft. Ravio and Malon)

Once again being self indulgent. More content that caters to myself bc apparently the creative juices only work for a small amount of time and only what provides serotonin to me currently. I’m out to break hearts so a ton of these will be sad. You’ve been warned.

｡･:*˚. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ✧˖*°࿐ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ˚➶

All of the chain:I think they all can identify with Innocent from Speak Now. I didn’t wanna keep adding it to each of theirs so here’s just an overarching statement that they’re all Innocent.

Time: never grow up. Like most, if not all, of the links, he had to grow up far too early and be what Hylia chose him to be—and I can hear him telling this to his future children:don’t grow up too fast. He had to and he never wants that for his baby. He wished he never had to grow up so fast, even if he had to save the world. Just because he had to doesn’t mean doesn’t mourn for his lost normal childhood. As for an album I think he’d be the fearless album.

Twilight:as an album he’s so evermore. I almost said debut but no no no. He’s evermore. Uhh as far as a song tho, idk I may be swayed by the fact it has the word cowboy in it, but I associate cowboy like me with twilight so heavily. Another song could be right where you left me if you squint and are delusional for MidLink.

Sky:HE IS SO LOVER! Both the song and the album! Omg! /shaking you by the shoulders/ this boy is so Lover ugh oh my gosh. Bright and beautiful and loving, accepting, kind while still having those notes of sadness, longing, and serious thoughts. The album Lover feels like a hug from a friend, and that’s what sky embodies.

Wind:can I interest you in The Best Day? Also You’re On Your Own, Kid. Also A Place In This World. He’s very much the younger taylor albums, like fearless. A good many of them read fearless to me and I couldn’t tell you why. For wind it’s because it seems like shiny and new and ready for what the world throws, but still a sense of hesitance.

Wild:Epiphany, This Is Me Trying, or Peace. He’s so folklore coded to me. The depictions of death and inability to save lives in epiphany, the heartbrokenness of this is me trying, one who’s making desperate attempts to be who they need them to be, and the sadness of Peace—cannot console and bring peace over the heart of someone who’s broken, but by Hylia if he isn’t gonna be there the entire time for the person.

Warriors:I think Change from Fearless. I also see him as Mirrorball, specifically because I feel like he puts up such a front and feels like he always has to stand tall and strong because of who he was as captain of the guard—but also since there’s so many young and impressionable men in the chain he feels like he has to be a good role model, especially for wind, and keep his head up about everything and make them smile and feel reassured when times are tough. As an album, probably Midnights. It feels like a start of something new and I think Wars embodies fresh beginnings—he just gives that vibe to me idk why. It might be because he left the scene of planning for wars to being out on his own adventure aside from what the army gives him.

Four:this one was hard. Four was really hard to pick for. Uhh—I think Seven maybe but I’m not sure. As for an album I feel like he’d be pretty Folklore as well. Could be just me projecting tho as if this whole thing isn’t. Four is so complex to me that it’s really hard to pin down. I chose Seven because it feels like a conversation between best friends. I’ve also seen that it’s meant to be listened to as someone speaking to their inner child to tell them everything is gonna be okay and that they’ll be together in the future and things are good now, and that interpretation gripped me by the throat and forced me to put this song for Four, so.

Hyrule:my dear sweet Hyrule and his imposter syndrome get anti-hero bc that’s the imposter syndrome anthem. He doesn’t feel like he’s a big hero, or even deserving of that title, so he feels a bit like a lost cause and that song is the perfect depiction of that. As an album, idk why but he’s reading very debut to me ?? I couldn’t tell you why, it’s just a vibe I get.

Legend:ohhhhhhhh my gosh. Okay. Get ready for this—I have So. Many. For him. Can you tell who’s been giving me brainrot recently? Anyway, first I’ll say his albums would be folklore and evermore. They’re so tragic to me and what is Legend if not a tragic, guarded little man(said with so much love, he’s my comfort character). As for songs, we’re Starting off strong with Labyrinth, then wildest dreams(cough) Then sad beautiful tragic, Cornelia street, anti-hero, i could go on. I won’t. We’d be here all day😭

Ravio:my tears ricochet. Idk I just thought of the idea that he gets stuck in Hyrule if dink is defeated and he can’t get back to Lorule so the part that goes “I can go anywhere I want, anywhere I want, just not home” hurts :)

Malon:WHOOH! Okay a happy one: Christmas tree farm and Fearless! And Malon is also such a fearless album girlie to me idk. Another song would be Superman. She loves her sweet hero husband and will always be there for him when he gets back <3

I hope you guys like this as much as I do😭 sorry if you don’t, I’ll get back to our regularly scheduled programming soon, it’s just been hard recently to do larger things. Sorry for everyone waiting on requests to be completed, I promise I haven’t forgotten you.

[turtleshelf]

Once again rereading Red, White and Royal Blue so enjoy some of my favorite lines and a few thoughts I had while reading <3

'RULE #1: DON'T GET CAUGHT'

"Well, you don't have to like him, you just have to put on a happy face and not cause an international incident at his brother's wedding." right yes good, so about that...

I'm obsessed with Cash's full name being Cassius

'"Do either of you know what a viscount is?" ... "I think it's that thing when a vampire creates an army of crazed sex waifs and starts his own ruling body."'

'When he got his first girlfriend, she made a PowerPoint presentation' I love Ellen, she's been the same he whole life, queen.

'Shaan is on the phone with Portugal' is absolutely my favorite line in the whole book.

'He just... Well, he gets told he's great a lot. He just doesn't often get told he's good enough'

'Then he thinks: If there was a prince, and he was gay, and he kissed someone, and maybe it mattered, that prince might have to run a bit of interference. And in one mercurial swing, Alex is not just angry anymore. He's sad too.'

'... where people are to busy mingling and listening to music to notice Alex frog-marching an heir to the throne out of the dining room' This paints such a vivid and hysterical picture.

'Henry is one talented bastard, a man of many hidden gifts, Alex muses half-hysterically. A true prodigy. God Save the Queen'

"... She still listens, and she tries, and she wants us to be happy. But I don't know if she has it in her anymore to be a part of anyone's happiness."

'How he realized by the time he was four that every person in the country knew his name, and how he told his mother he didn't know if he wanted them to, and how she knelt down and told him she'd let nothing touch him, not ever'

'... Two parentheses enclosing 3,700 miles.'

'He keeps staring at them, hoping if he recites them enough time in his head, he'll figure out how to feel like he's doing enough.'

'"Good morning, strumpet." Henry say, glancing away from the road to wink at the camera'

As a leftist that lives in and loves the fuck out of a red state, Alex's argument with Hunter in chapter eight is so healing tbh. "You think y'all are off the hook for institutional bigotry because you come from a blue state. Not every white supremacist is a meth-head in Bumfuck, Mississippi--there are plenty of them at Duke or UPenn on Daddy's money." Alex in this scene is so important to understanding red state democrats and liberals. Please please please go read the full scene again.

'He remembers, as if from a million miles away, telling Henry once not to overthink this.'

'It's rare anyone other than June goes out of their way to check on him. It's by his own design, mostly, a barricade of charm and fitful monologues and hard-headed independence. Henry looks at him like he's not fooled by any of it.'

Besties whatever you do Do Not listen to Haunted by Taylor Swift while reading Alex and Henry's almost breakup in chapter ten omg.

Taking up irl royal watching has made me inexplicably violent to seeing "The Daily Mail" in this book. They're actually awful irl if you were wondering.

"Alex. I don't want to do this."

"... You and me and history, remember? We're just gonna fucking fight. Because you're it, okay?..."

'He wants to set himself on fire but he can't afford for anyone to see him burn'

'This is the damage you cause, Alex, it all seems to say, right there in hard facts and figures. This is who you hurt.'

'Alex hasn't been a good Catholic on a long time, but he knows confession is a sacrament. They were supposed to stay safe.'

'"Oh, love," she says simply. "he misses Dad."'

"... On purpose. I love him on purpose."

[antiloreolympus]

10 Anti LO Asks

(Note: All of these asks are before episode 206 (Season 2 finale) so some may be dated.) 1. ok but I love Rachel spent the latter half of 2021 being like ooooh Kronos is coming back!! this is a big deal!! only to timeskip ten years and NOTHING happened. like wow even Kronos isn't a big deal when it comes to how totally not pathetic Persephone is as a 30+ year old doing no work and only being obsessed with a guy she knew for a month. literal masterclass in awful writing. It's almost impressive how bad it is.

2. Deadass I don't even get why RS is like oh yeh nymphs and other creatures should be second class citizens but they're also all "trash" and thus its good and even encouraged to abuse and mistreat them. like yeah that's what was missing, racism where the marginalized group are evil and "deserve" to be abused and mistreated by those with all the power over them. THAT's what mythology was so sorely missing.  jfc. I know a lot of the WT staff are white people and so is Rachel but wtf???

3. It's quite funny how a woman old enough to be my mother cannot draw or write worth shit and there are literal teenagers on this website who are a thousand times the artist and writer she could ever hope to be.

4. This isn’t me trying to be mean but like, why is everything from the book covers to the official merch so ,.. cheap looking? Like these are supposed professionals, not Rachel, doing it, yet they’re still so poorly designed and crafted. It doesn’t help the images Rachel gives time to work with are all in the rushed, ugly style now either 😪

5. I just find it funny that every time an LO fan or even WT promotes it its like ... they ONLY use art from the first 10-ish episodes at best. Like yall, that was over four years ago, why aren't you using current art to be more accurate? Like it's kinda telling on themselves they know the quality declined rapidly after the first few months but are like "just ignore that! look at this three good panels from 2018!"

6. I HATE those panels where RS tries to be anatomically correct to IRL humans and its like omg they look even worse (and are still wildly wrong anyway?? She cannot draw heads to save her life for real). Like lady just work within your stylization, there's a reason people picked up your work off what it used to be versus what it is now.

7. this isnt necessarily LO based but I do find it crazy how people like RS and her fans viewed the original hymn like ugh Demeter is such a bitch why wouldnt she be happy Hades married her daughter like .... you guys are aware ancient brides tended to be married at 14, right? maybe that's why Demeter was pissed and creeped out by him. They're so blinded by their fantasy of this "perfect Hades" that never existed over the truth of a mother defending her literal CHILD.

8. Zeus is objectively the only hot man on cast because he actually has a personality, fashion sense, and pretty hair meanwhile Hades just looks like a dusty old man with zero drip and a million and one red flags 🫣

9. "This style of story telling" what style? just lying and making everything up to where it matches nothing in mythology? my god, she's so concerned over looking like a clever writer who has everything planned out and knows more than anyone else (including actual greeks??? ma'am) over actually telling a decent story. ive never seen someone so self conscious about being perceived as a "real writer" before.

10. Why even use mythology when you won't keep any of the stories true to how they were, change all the relationships, and just make up whatever else instead? At that point just go "this was inspired by the greek myths" and use your own OCs, not claiming you're telling an accurate story with a ton of research put into it. Rachel really just wants to have her cake and eat it too, huh?

[purpleandsilver]

Using StimuWrite: First Impressions

Wherein I typed up this post on the app, exported the .txt file to my OneDrive, and formatted it on Tumblr whilst laying in bed.

First I downloaded it from the official source. Then I explored the other themes. I settled on buying and downloadig one of te extra theme packs in order to have the Clear Crystal theme. I'm running into the problem that the background I want to use- Galaxy Spiral- is making it hard to read text as I type closer to the center of the spiral. I changed to the Outline theme and it seems to help but I wish there was a background that was slightly grey and transulucent. The emojis are cool but mushrooms don't go with the theme. Oh well. I think mushrooms are cute. Hm. Text is getting hard to read because the galaxy spiral is darker towards the bottom. Let me see..... Okay so I switched backgrounds. Dark works okay with Clear Crystal. I just noticed that the emojis isn't just mushrooms like I wanted. I don't like the thumbs up emote randomly showing up. Wait where'd the mushies go. 😟I like the mushies. 😟 Okay so I turned off Emoji Feedback thinking it would get rid of the thumbs up. I don't think it did but I did turn on the lots option. I don't like the hand clapping emoji either. I just want the mushies. Anways, the writing part works fine. Let's explore the fonts.

Right now I'm using Courier Prime. Let's see what else we have. Roboto Sans is basic AF but someone likes it lol. Noto Serif is very in your face serif. I understand why Open Dyslexic was added- for acessability- but omg my ADHD brain hates this font. But I'm glad it's avaible for people who need it. Short Stack is interesting in that I don't know how to describe it. It's... short and handwritingish? Ish. Marckscript are for people who cosplay William Shakespeare characters. It's cursvie so there's a huge generation that doesn't know how to write it. Illegible is definitely for people who want nothing but chaos. I don't and I hate this font with a passion lol. Okay I'm back to my favorite font of all time. Courier Prime really is the number one font ever. It is just so good and I personally believe it pairs well with the keyboard or typewriter sounds.

Speaking of sounds let's try those out. Right now I'm on Typewriter. Now I'm on Bubble. Absoulutely the fuck not. No. Omg I hate this sound. My brain is screaming. And now I'm on Bloop which sounds like a fire alarm and is giving me flashbacks from school days. NO. And here we have keyboard which is like Typewriter but lighter because it's modern. Oh there's one called Ah. OMFG I HATE IT. Just turned on Scribble and I'd rather listen to nails on a chalkboard. Plastic Rustle reminds me of my cat Maximus and how he likes to eat plastic. I see the appeal but no for me. Now I'm on Bubble Wrap. I'm having mixed feelings right now. I don't hate it but I like it. And finally, Drum. No. Just no. And I'm back to Typewriter because it's the best. Most of the sounds are a no for me, but I'm not the only one using them. They're cool but imma stick with Typewriter or Keyboard. Okay now I'm going to close and reopen the program to see if it saves me work. Gonna copy it beforehand though.

Okay it does save your work in a way. I had to change my theme again on start and recovery my session. Interesting. Anyways ratings are arbitary but I think this app is a 10/10 for what it does because I'm almost at 650 words. I wonder if I can get there just by typing mindlessly. I bet I could. This feels very stimulating. I need four more words. Oh hey I'm over 650 words. Nice.

[bullshit-bulltrue]

so science lab was fucking insane today bc we had a substitute .

i had to be mean to someone, almost got hit with a chancla, found out a guy i liked in elementary has a crush on me, and i ended up falling asleep in the midst of it all

and bc i wanna type the rest in a weird format, here u go:

me: *leaves at the end of class* *goes to locker bc holy shit i just found out a guy likes me* *gets pissed bc shit don't be adding up* *contemplates why he would like me* lowkey gets mad 💀* *screeches + punches my locker and leaves a small dent* (...oopsie) *closes my locker and takes a deep breath*

ben: *pops up outta nowhere* (awoop jumpscare) (but in a good way) hey! *does a lil wave*

me: hi!

ben: yo your class was REALLY loud. we could hear you guys all the way from our room.

me: yeah it was ten times louder inside.

ben: damn

*pauses for a minute bc we kept bumping into each other since everyone else is fucking bumping into us*

me: hey did Mr e. play the gummy bear song for you guys and make you all dance?

ben: yeah *kinda embarrassed*

me: i figured, i heard it playing from the hallways lol

ben: well you guys were way louder lol

me: yeah its bc we had a sub

ben: ohhh that makes sense

me: everyone went crazy i swear. people running everywhere, almost got hit with a chancla

ben: wait what?!

me: yeah someone took aaron's slipper and threw it over my head. that was fun.

ben: oh wow

me: surprised i got out of class in time

ben: why's that?

me: oh i fell asleep and barely woke up before the bell

ben: you can fall asleep in there??? it was fucking loud

me: yeah, i can fall asleep if im tired enough

ben: wow

*we walk out the building doors and head toward the front of the school*

ben: hey did you finish the english essay?

me: i haven't even started it

ben: oh i finished it already

ben: ah..

me: yeah its due tonight so i'm just gonna scrape smth together

me: that was a joke. um, a bad one. it's not that hard, so i'll finish it up in no time. besides, we only have to write like 2 paragraphs minimum

ben: uhh yeah i *might* have written a more than two paragraphs..

me: what, like four?

ben: um.. more

me: seven? six?

ben: one less

me: five? omg, good job

ben: and i'm thinking of coloring in the drawing too. aiming for that extra credit 😎 but idk yet (he was joking. our school doesn't allow extra credit)

me: thats good! and hey as long as you have some pretty solid writing, i wouldn't worry too much about the drawing.

ben: yeah. oh and uhm i'll show you my writing tomorrow (we have english Okay!

me: okay! *about to leave*

ben: wait a minute! i actually have a picture of it saved, because i sent it to [insert persons name i dont remember]. *shows me the picture of the writing and drawing* me: wow, that's really good!

ben: yeah i actually don't know how many paragraphs that is lol (he didn't use indentations) and i still don't know about coloring it in

me: i'd say that's about 4-5. and, as i said, don't worry too much about coloring it in. you have a good amount written, so you should get a solid grade on that. and the diagram for your drawing looks good. if anything, maybe highlight the main parts. so it's bold you know?

ben: okay, thanks!

me: yeah, anytime! ever need help, just ask.

ben: okay!

me: see ya later!

ben: yeah, bye!

so yeah <3

also i figured out what was different abt him

so yk that part where ur hairline ends? yeah he got it. it was bugging me all day bc I couldn't for the life of me figure out what was different lol

[kewltie]

title: MONSTAR

author: kewltie

pairing: hyukjae/donghae

contains: slight media fic, non-linear narrative, celeb/manager, substance abuse, fandom

summary:  The life and time Lee Eunhyuk--rock god, king of the airport's runway, lord of the tabloid's front page and Donghae's eternal migraine.

a/n: i said i wasn't going to start anything new new until i finish my other projects but LOOK it been two years (??) since i wrote anything that doesn't belong in magnetic, posted to my tumblr, OR updated any of my old fics soooo hey! this isn't even new new since i been working on this on and off on my tumblr for years now so haha /o\. i like to think of this entire 'verse as my love letter to lee hyukjae so HERE WE GO GUYS. 2-3 parts i think?? lmao I THINK.

>>>>>>>>>Part One<<<<<<<<<<<<<

[starrybunnyarchive]

let's talk about petnames

because is one of my favorites hcs. i really enjoy spending time thinking about this and i absolutely melt everytime.

Characters: Aizawa Shouta, Hatake Kakashi, Ukai Keishin + bonus.

Warning: none, just a little suggestive?????

Aizawa Shouta

he's not like, all cutie and stuff but he tries his best to show his love for his s/o.

when he refers to her, he always uses Partner or Lover. and don't ask me why but i just feel this man is classic.

eventually started to use Fiancé and Wife as soon as he could because he's NOT afraid of telling the world she's the one.

he's a pro-hero and a public figure but despite this, we all know he is very professional and likes to keep his private life private. so, when he's talking with her in public situations he uses Darling. again, classic lol (tried to call her this way when they were alone but was too much formality.)

sometimes he uses Love. it's really cute but isn't his favorite to call his s/o.

Honey is the one he uses a lot at home or when they're alone.

probably Kitty is the universal headcanon for Aizawa's petnames lol but YES i agree. he saves this one for special or intimate moments. the first time he used Kitty was a surprise.

–*almost a whisper* “i love you, kitty.”

–“you just called me kitty?”

–“no I didn't.”

–“yes you did. you did it right now.”

–“and…?”

–“and what?”

–“don't you like it?"

–“isn't that i don't like it, is just…why did you call me that?”

–“because you are my...cute kitty.”

–*chuckling* “omg Shouta since when are you like that?”

–“since i felt in love with you.”

–*she gets speechless for a second* “i love you too.”

Hatake Kakashi

this man isn't into fancy nicknames but he makes sure his s/o knows he treasures her a lot.

he uses Lover when he's talking about her or in public situations.

it took sometime for him to get used with Fiancé or Wife just because Kakashi almost couldn't believe he ACTUALLY managed to have someone this special in his life. (we all know how sad his past is 😔😔😔)

she could forget her own name because Kakashi ALWAYS call her Honey. sometimes, even in public.

obviously this man has a sweet and special nickname that suits his s/o so well. (fell free to imagine one you like the most or the one you think suits you better. i think to myself he would use Bunny or Flower)

Ukai Keishin

he uses Babe most of the time. it's simple but sweet.

but let's not forget he's a flirty one. im 100% sure he would use Babe even before they're actually start dating, just to tease her.

calls her My Girl when refers to her. even when they get old because he's a sweet one.

Keishin loves call her Princess to spoil his s/o. and obviously her number is saved as "Princess 👑" too.

sometimes he uses Doll.

doesn't mind calling his s/o Babe or Doll or even Princess in front of others. actually, he likes seeing her smile when he do this.

Lovebug is the cutest nickname ever and he uses when he's being EXTRA cute and fluffy.

and yes, he has a sassy name to call her while they're doing. (ill let you free to imagine this one too, but i kinda like Babygirl LOL i know it's cliche but 🥵🥵🥵 what can i do)

bonus:

Gojo Satoru

sure he has lots of petnames because he can't remember the names of all his ladies LMAO

just kidding. this joke never gets old to me.

this man likes french nicknames, i just know it, don't ask me how.

his favorite one is Mon Bébé. and he LOVES teasing his s/o with this one.

Mon Ange and Mon Chéri are also included. you already know this but he's NOT shy of using all of these names in public, specially when she's around.

calls her My Lady or My Girl to refers to her.

Little Girl is the special one for him.

we can't deny this: he calls her all sort of names when they're doing but Little Devil is his favorite.

final note: i didn't realize this post become a teachers edition until now LOL but yes, get used to posts with this "Fantastic Four" senseis version because im a sucker for them.

[mattsboldyy]

“the night the goal horn sounded“ | the umich hockey team

find part one here!

find part two here!

summary - going to the frozen four as the first girl in mens college hockey history.

words - 1.5k

warnings - fem!reader, tiny bit of cursing

authors note - omg im so excited for y’all to read this!!! huge huge huge shoutout to @hockeyboysarehot for this series idea! feel free to reblog and/ or leave feedback in the comments! i hope you all love this as much as i do!! - kay 💋

—————

“y/n/n?” owen said, knocking on your bedroom door. “yeah?” you respond, gathering your bags. “can i come in?” “yeah o!” you said as he opened your door, walking in and sitting on your bed. “are you nervous?” he asked, looking over at you. “no? i mean, kind of. i just feel a lot of pressure ya know? like i’m the first girl to play with you guys in the frozen four. if i mess up somehow, im gonna get so much hate in the press.” you say, continuing to throw last minute things in your bag. “i know your gonna do perfect like you always do. if they didn’t think the same, they wouldn’t allow you to compete, much less be drafted into the nhl. dont worry. you got this.” owen stated, getting up and hugging you, getting a hug back in return. “thank you o.” you mumbled into his shirt. “now hurry up. if your gonna ride with me, kent, and nick over to the rink be downstairs in like ten minutes.” he says, walking out of your room. “okay bossy pants.” you laugh, picking up your bags and heading downstairs.

you and the boys headed to the rink where you were meeting everyone else on the team so you all could pile onto the bus and head to the airport. a ton of the guys were trying to make your nerves go away. you appreciate their effort but it seems to not work. but maybe if you go and start a conversation with someone, it’ll distract you.

the team headed out of the doors of yost arena and towards the bus. you were one of the last ones on and saw that owen had no one sitting beside him. “you saving this seat for someone?” you laugh as you look at owen as he returns a smile. “yeah. you.” he laughs back, grabbing your hand and pulling you down into the seat next to him. you and owen started talking and all of your worries instantly went away. owen is one of the guys you’ve gotten really close with since the start of your sophomore year and also since you both got drafted to buffalo. you can talk to him about anything and he’ll give you the best advice and make you feel automatically better. he truly was your favorite boy on earth.

“y/n/n.” owen said, gently rubbing circles on your shoulder, waking you up carefully. “y/n/n, wake up, we’re almost at the airport.” you mumbled something as you lifted your head off of owens shoulder, which you dozed off on about fifteen minutes into the bus ride. “sorry.” you chuckled nervously, motioning to his shoulder. “dont be.” he smiled down at you after he stood up.

-

once you, owen, and the rest of the team were on the plane, it took off, heading to boston. you had found a seat next to brendan brisson, since owen had decided to sit next to kent. “so.” brendan said, holding back a laugh. “so?” you said, looking from the airplane window to him. “you and power, huh?” he laughed. “what?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows. “are you and owen dating?” brendan barely let out, laughing so hard he was causing you a headache. “brendan. no.” you said, crossing your arms and turning back towards the airplane window. brendan started to make another comment went you cut him off, “shut up brisson. i don’t wanna hear it.”

a few minutes went by and brendan finally stopped laughing. ‘god. he’s such a child.’ you thought, ‘this plane ride would’ve been so much better if i were sitting next to owen.’

an hour and forty five minutes past before you and the team finally landed. you got off the plane, bag in hand, when you felt a presence behind you. you turned around to find owen standing behind you with two water bottles in hand. “hey smalls. i got you a water.” he smiles down at you, handing you the bottle. “thanks o.” you say, opening the water and taking a sip. “are you okay?” he asked, looking up at the sky before back down at you, “yeah, just brendan being an ass as usual.” you smile. “i’ll beat him up for you.” owen laughs, starting to walk to the bus that would be transporting the team to the hotel before you following him.

-

you ended up getting a hotel room to yourself which made your whole day better. you started to unpack when it was time for practice. you and the team headed to TD garden. then after practice it was time for dinner. you headed down to the huge room near the hotel lobby with a ton of tables set up. after dinner you went back up to your room and went to sleep.

-

the next day you and the team got up early for morning skate. the first game of the series im boston was against american int’l. after the morning skate and a few hours went by, it was game time.

you were walking down the TD garden arena hall by yourself, warming up, when you hear running and a voice yell after you, “hey y/n!” owen said, slowing down the closer he got to you. “hey o.” you said, looking up at him. “you’re gonna do great tonight. really y/n/n, i’m even excited to watch you from the bench.” he laughs, holding eye contact with you. “thanks owen. same goes for you.” you smile. he smiles back before turning back around and jogging back down the hall.

it was almost game time. you and the rest of the team were standing in the tunnel hall, doing handshakes before taking the ice. “lets go!” nick blankenburg, the captian, yelled before starting to walk out of the tunnel. “you got this superstar.” owen mumbled in your ear before speed walking into a couple spots ahead of you.

-

umich ended up winning game one, also game two vs. quinnipiac, and game three vs. denver, sending umich to the final game against minnesota state.

you were so extremely nervous, sitting on the bench with five minutes left to go in the game. umich and denver were tied 4-4.

you were hoping and praying for a miracle; one of your teammates would score and umich would win frozen four. the time was ticking down and the game would remain tied 4-4 which meant the game would go into overtime. “i hate overtime. it makes my anxiety go up.” you state as you roll your eyes, putting your gloves back on in the umich dressing room, waiting for the intermission between regulation and overtime to end. “same. but good luck.” nick blankenburg said, patting you on the shoulder before heading out of the locker room and into the hall to wait.

overtime started and you were on the bench still. you figured you were gonna stay on the bench the rest of the game but that wasn’t till three minutes into the game without any progress. “y/n! your up!” coach mel said, right behind you while giving your back a little shove. “what?” you say. “go!” he states as you hop over the boards “go y/n!” a few people on the umich bench yells as you take the faceoff. you win it and pass it off to one of your teammates. you and your line mates race down the ice to the umich goal. kent johnson passes it to you, before you pass it back to him, and then he passes it back to you, “now or never.” you mumble before taking a shot right towards the goalie. you blinked. all the sudden you see flashing lights, your teammates flying towards you in celebration, you hear the goal horn go off as the umich fans in the stands erupt in cheer. the team surrounds you, yelling and cheering, patting each other on the head. “WE DID IT!” you yell in a laugh. “HELL YEAH!” someone yells, “WOO!” someone else yells. after everyone backs off of you, you look around before seeing owen charge towards you, picking you up and spinning you around, and giving you the biggest hug. “i’m so proud of you.” he says, putting you down and pulling you in for another hug.

you took a seat in the press room, smiling so big. you answered a few questions. “so y/n. this must be a really exciting moment. this might sound like a silly question but if there was a movie made after this night, what would you name it?” the reporter asked. you laughed, “the night the goal horn sounded”

————————

tagging: @hockey-lover86 @pierrelucduboiis @pokethepuck

[crankynewt]

Good for a Weekend (Helmut Zemo)

Masterlist

Summary: You were retired, a disgraced Avenger content living the rest of their life out in solitude. But Sam and Bucky's shenanigans dragged you back into the hero life and you found yourself face to face with the man who'd got you into this mess in the first place. The question is, however, is he really who you thought he was? Or are you just as crazy as him?

Pairing: Helmut Zemo x Reader

Warnings: TFAWS Episode 3 Spoilers, Zemo (he's a warning), swearing, mentions of torture and experimenting (past), drinking, Zemo being semi-protective, I think that's it??

Word Count: 3.41k

Author's Note: Biting the bullet and writing this BEFORE Marvel does something to get us to hate him again. Also, ZEMO AND BLANK SPACE WORK SO WELL TOGETHER OMG.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” You murmured, looking at the message from Sam flashing across your phone. Although you had stopped dead in your tracks, the chaos of the bustling streets of London continued around you. You pushed your sunglasses further up your nose, them having fallen down as you were peering at the screen of your burner cell.

‘Need your help in Madripoor ASAP,’ the text read. You weren’t daft, you knew exactly what kind of lawless entropy happened on that Indonesian island and if Sam was asking for your help, that meant he was in some deep shit.

‘I’m retired,’ you replied, glancing over your shoulder out of habit. Although you’d been pardoned after the Berlin incident by the government, you were still a disgraced Avenger in the eyes of the world. All you wanted was to live the rest of your life out in peace, a future without the world-saving you began when you left HYDRA with the Maximoff twins.

You hadn’t chosen to become a human lab rat, tortured and exposed to the mind stone until you could suddenly hear the thoughts of others in your head. Telepathy and telekinesis were not necessarily the kind of special skills that employers wanted to see on a resume, but alas, here you were. Thankfully, however, you'd learned to block them out until necessary to violate people's privacy. Fighting aliens and other superpowered entities, including the people you’d once considered to be your family, were in the past.

‘Please. It’s Bucky,’ Sam messaged again. Those three words were enough to make your blood run cold and your heart stop. Bucky was the reason you were in this mess in the first place, and you would be damned if the ex-assassin was going to fall back into the clutches of evil.

With a sigh, you typed back ‘fine’ and began the trek towards your apartment. Your phone was vibrating again immediately, Sam explaining that they would be picking you up at a small airstrip on the edge of the city.

Three hours later, you were walking along a long, concrete runway, the harsh England wind attacking your body as you pulled your leather jacket tighter around you. Your brows furrowed in confusion at the sight of a civilian jet rather than the military-esque vessels you’d become accustomed to. The steps were awaiting your ascent with an older man stood adjacent to the entrance.

“Ms.(Y/L/N),” he greeted. A thick accent laced his tone, one you couldn’t quite determine from the crackling of age in his voice. German or Russian, most likely, you deduced. Attempting to be polite despite your skepticism, you gave him a tight-lipped smile and handshake before the elder man gestured towards the stairs for you. Entering the jet, you turned right to be met with the familiar faces of Sam and Bucky.

“(Y/N)!” Bucky exclaimed, rising from his seat and embracing you in a hug. He held you tightly against his body, almost as if he wasn’t sure you were really there. The super soldier had taken a liking to you when the two of you stayed in Wakanda during your exile, both of you having a certain understanding of the other due to your shared experiences with HYDRA. The sergeant had become somewhat of a brother to you in your time away together. “What are you doing here?”

“Sam messaged me.” You replied, Barnes’ arms immediately releasing you as he whipped around to face Sam.

“You tattled on me to (Y/N)?” He scoffed. If looks could kill, Sam would have dropped dead from the darkness in Bucky’s orbs.

“Wait, if he’s okay then what am I here for?” You said, shifting your gaze to Sam as you raised a brow.

“You’re here to make sure that he stays in line.” Sam snapped, crossing his arms over his chest as Bucky let out an exasperated ‘Jesus Christ’ under his breath.

“Bucky’s fine, Sam.” You replied, rubbing your face with your hand in annoyance as you glanced at the super-soldier.

“He’s not talking about James.” A new voice sounded from behind you, one both vaguely familiar but also strange. Whipping around, you were met with a face you’d only ever seen through a screen. Zemo.

“What the fuck is he doing out of prison?!” You exclaimed, looking between Sam and Bucky in utter disbelief.

“Bucky broke him out of jail!” Sam exclaimed, pointing a finger towards the super-soldier.

“Sam’s the one who pulled me into this mess!” Bucky pointed back.

“You two morons have reached a whole new level of dumbassery!” You exclaimed, keeping a cautious gaze on Zemo in the corner of your eye. “You broke out the man who ripped apart the Avengers out of jail and you let him do it?! The same man who killed King T’Chaka! Do neither of you remember what T’Challa and the people of Wakanda just did for us after we became enemies of the state?! I cannot believe that you would betray their trust and help this monster to escape!”

You paused for a moment, breathing heavily as you looked at the ashamed faces of Bucky and Sam in front of you.

“I’m sorry to-” You heard Zemo begin, you turned to face him with utter rage shining in your eyes. “No! The grown-ups are talking, you can wait your turn.” You scolded him, almost as you would a child but just a tad harsher. Grown-ups may have also not have been the best choice of words to describe Wilson and Barnes.

“I don’t want any part of this suicide mission!” You snapped at the duo, moving to leave.

Thirty minutes later, however, you were still on the jet, glaring into a pair of brown eyes as the four of you flew through the air. Honestly, you couldn’t believe you were still there, but Sam and Bucky knew you too well and pushed just the right buttons to convince you to stay. Sam needed you to tap into Zemo’s mind if need be to figure out if he was planning on betraying them, and you didn’t want two of the last people you trust getting themselves killed if you could prevent it.

Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum were sitting across from each other, meaning that you got stuck sitting across from the Baron in silence. He shifted uncomfortably under your gaze, the darkness in your (Y/E/C) orbs not sitting well with the man.

“So, you read minds.” He began, rubbing his hands together anxiously. You noted the nervous tick and couldn’t help but feel amused at his discomfort, but your expression never faltered.

“You don’t need to make small talk.” You bit, your icy tone growing colder in every syllable.

“I’m genuinely curious, is all.” He began, pausing his fiddling to brush his hair back only to resume it once more. “It just seems like for someone with your abilities, you’re often an overlooked member of the team. You’re the most powerful, even more so than Maximoff or Banner, perhaps, yet you were never truly an Avenger, were you?”

“It doesn’t matter, I’m retired.” You muttered, ending your glaring to gaze out the window. The way Zemo spoke about you was unsettling, especially considering how he felt about the Avengers. He seemed not to think that you were part of the team, similarly to Bucky, and that brought you a feeling of unease.

“And why is that?” Zemo pushed, your avoidance evidence that he’d struck a chord.

“Why do you care?” You scoffed, looking back at the Sokovian man, both annoyance and exhaustion present in your tone.

“Because I think you’re like me.” He answered, his tone becoming quieter. Zemo didn’t look at you with the same rage you’d seen in footage from 2016, nor with the amusement that he gazed at Bucky and Sam with. No, it was something different, softer and analytical, perhaps. You wanted to peer into his mind for something, anything to figure out what he was thinking, but he would likely feel your prodding into his consciousness. As of now, he didn’t seem to have any plans to betray you guys, and you wouldn’t be the one to give him a reason.

“That’s enough from you.” Bucky interrupted, rising from his seat to switch places with you, his brotherly possessiveness clear as day.

The rest of the flight was uneventful, and Zemo provided the three of you with costumes for the roles you were to play in Madripoor. Yours seemed to have been designed specifically to be horribly uncomfortable, both in feel and the amount of skin that was exposed in the cool evening air. The three of you were making your way towards the glowing city shining in the distance, the nerves in your stomach rising with each step.

“Only an American would assume a fashion-forward Black man looks like a pimp.” Zemo explained in response to Sam’s protests over his own outfit. “You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.”

“He even has a bad nickname.” Sam said, looking at the picture of Conrad on the phone Zemo had just handed him. “Hell, he does look like me though.”

“And who am I supposed to be playing, exactly?” You questioned, still unsure as to what role you would be playing in this scheme.

“My partner,” Zemo said simply, an amused smile working his way onto his lips.

“What?! No! Nu-uh, I’m not doing that!” You protested, Sam chuckling at your denial of what was probably inevitable.

“Would you rather the alternative of all of us getting slaughtered the second we step foot into the city?” Zemo retorted, still humored by your resistance.

“Fine, but if you try anything I’m going to break your nose.” You gave in.

"I wouldn't expect anything less."

Soon, the four of you were making your way into a bar, Helmut’s arm wrapped tightly around your waist since the second you exited the car in a mock possessiveness. It was all part of the charade, you had to remind yourself, as the Baron kept your side pressed against his snugly.

Making your way up to the counter, the bartender didn’t look impressed to see the group of you there as he made his way over to you.

“Hello,” He began. “Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.”

“His plans changed. We have a business to do, with Selby.” Zemo interjected before Sam could respond.

“The usual?” The bartender ignored Zemo and turned his attention back to Sam, who simply gave a curt nod in response. The bartender turned, grabbing a snake from a jar and slicing it down the underside with a blade. A part of you wanted to cackle, especially seeing Sam stiffen beside you, and you didn’t doubt that Bucky was having to restrain himself as well. Zemo didn’t seem surprised as the bartender pulled who knows what out from the snake and placed it into a glass.

“Smiling Tiger, your favorite.” The Baron commented, the bartender sliding Sam his beverage only to pour two glasses of a different liquor for Zemo and yourself.

“I love these,” Sam said, raising to clink glasses with yourself and the Sokovian man whose arm was still draped around you.

“Cheers, Conrad,” Zemo replied, smiling back at poor Sam. The three of you downed your burning liquor, Sam struggling the most out of the three of you, clearly appalled by the organ at the bottom of his shot. You could see Bucky give a little nod in the corner of your eye, knowing he must be finding this as amusing as you were.

A man soon approached Helmut from behind, tapping him on the shoulder before he turned to face the stranger, shifting you with him. When Zemo felt the little nudge, he immediately pulled you closer to him. You were even tighter against him now, so much so that you had to wrap an arm around him as well to stabilize yourself. It was almost as if he was trying to shield you from the man despite him knowing full well that you can hold your own.

“I got word from on high; you ain’t welcome here.” He spat, getting too close to the two of you for either of your likings. But Zemo kept his air of indifference while you instinctually moved closer into his side. It’s all an act, remember? You have to play the part of the clingy partner who would get frightened at such a rough man threatening you two. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

“I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me…” Zemo began, trailing off as he gestured to Bucky.

“New haircut?” The strange man asked Bucky, who merely glowered in response.

“Or bring Selby for a chat.” Zemo finished, this time him being the one to get into the man’s face. Thankfully that was enough to send him away, most likely to Selby or this Power Broker who seems to be Madripoor’s own version of Big Brother.

You could feel Zemo let out a breath that you don’t think he even knew he was holding, giving a quick glance down at you before placing a peck on your temple. For the facade, of course. But what wasn’t fake were the butterflies rise in your stomach, something that you hadn’t felt in a long time. Were you… Flustered?

No, you reminded yourself internally. This was a very bad man holding you close, the same one who killed the former King of Wakanda and ripped your team to shreds. Not only that, but he hated all the Avengers, so why did he seem to like you? It doesn’t matter whether or not he likes you, he’s Zemo. But the more time you spent with him, the more intoxicated you became. He was starting to look more and more like your next mistake, and love is certainly not a game you wanted to be playing with him. Right?

The next thirty or so minutes were a blur. Bucky having to fake being the Winter Soldier to kick a bunch of men’s asses to finally meeting up with Selby, only for Sam to break your cover through a phone call and Selby quickly being shot. The four of you promptly exited the bar, attempting to remain inconspicuous until bounty hunters from all around started shooting at you. Bucky and Sam jumped forward, meanwhile, Zemo darted to the right, dragging you with him as he moved his hand from your waist to interlock your fingers.

You cut through alleyway after alleyway, hiding in the shadows as gunfire echoed around you. Eventually, you managed to catch up with Bucky and Sam, approaching the pair with your hand still in his.

“Well this is too perfect.” A female voice interrupted your mini-reunion, Sharon Carter emerging from the shadows as she ripped down her hood, gun fixated on Zemo.

“Drop it Zemo,” She started, Zemo raising his gun-holding hand before lowering the weapon to the ground. “You cost me everything.”

“Sharon, wait.” You reasoned, raising your hand as you slowly backed up.

“What, are you his lover now? His sugar baby or some shit?” She badgered you, causing your eyes to widen as you only just remembered that you were still holding his hand. You quickly dropped it, raising it to match your other arm as Zemo sent you a look that you couldn’t decipher. Oh, how desperately you wanted to look into his mind, but the little bit of sanity left in you told you to leave it be.

“Someone recreated the super-soldier serum and Zemo had a lead,” Sam explained.

“That explains why you guys are here. And Selby’s dead.” Sharon replied, gun still pointed at your group.

“So what are you doing here?” Bucky questioned the blonde.

“I stole Steve’s shield, remember? I also took the wings for your ass so that you could save his ass from his ass and became a criminal with their ass.” She explained, pointing the gun at each mention of whoever's ass it was that turn. “Unlike you, I didn’t have the Avengers to back me up, so, I’m off the grid in Madripoor.”

“Hey, don’t blow that smoke. I was on the run, too.” Sam rebutted Sharon’s complaints.

“Was. Is. Big difference. I don’t speak to my family anymore - I can’t. My own father doesn’t know where I am.”

“Listen…” You began. “Sharon, we need your help, the former agent only laughing in response. “Please.”

“This isn’t over.” She conceded, shaking her head at you. “I have a place in High Town, you should be safe there for a while.”

Sharon’s place was definitely nicer than yours is now, and you’re not even on the run anymore. She, thankfully, had a change of clothes for you to slip into, the soft material much a welcome relief from the tortuous item Zemo had you wearing.

While you were waiting for Sharon’s guests to begin arriving for whatever event would soon be taking place downstairs, everybody slowly filtered out of the room until it was only Zemo and yourself remaining.

“Can I ask you a question?” You spoke up, breaking the silence from your spot on the sofa as you glanced towards the Baron seated across the room.

“Ask away.” He smiled, taking a sip from the amber liquid in his glass.

“What did you mean earlier, when you said we were the same.” Your voice was quiet now, so much so that you weren’t sure if he’d even heard you. That is until he got up from his seat and slowly walked towards you.

“I never wanted to tear the Avengers apart, not until they killed my family. Destroyed my city… Sure, I didn’t like them, but I didn’t want to destroy them. It was all about vengeance.” He began, sitting beside you on the yellow fabric. “For you, it was HYDRA who ruined your life. You joined the Avengers because it was where the last people you had left were going and it was the easiest way for you to ensure the organization was destroyed. You never wanted the idolization that came with being a hero, and it was clear when your work was done that you had no desire to keep going. Everything that came after the Sokovia Accords was out of survival.”

“I’m not saying you're right,” you began, “but what would that make me, then? Insane? Cause that seems to be the running theory.”

“You’re not crazy, despite how rumors fly. Neither am I, really.” He began, eliciting a small smile from you at the last bit he added. “You’re a fighter, someone doing whatever it takes to get their agenda done. Whether that means breaking the law or joining the Avengers, nothing will stop you once you put your mind to it - it’s one of the things I admire about you.”

You pursed your lips as you focused on the amber fluid floating in its crystalline home, him taking another sip of the burning liquid. Your gaze shifted back to his face, and oh god, look at that face. Maybe it was the liquor in your system already or maybe your last bit of sanity was finally escaping your mind, but suddenly his past didn’t seem to matter anymore. You had plenty of red on your ledger as well, and the more he spoke the more you began to sympathize with him.

“So you admire me?” You smirked, crossing your arms as you tilted your head slightly to the right playfully.

“Why don’t you look into my mind and tell me?” He replied. Reaching out, you gently placed your fingers against his temple as you gazed into his consciousness. Flashes of magic and madness, ideas of a love that could be forever or go down in flames. You didn’t go searching deeper, because your own mind was racing. Would pursuing this be worth all the pain that could very well follow? No, not could, would. You’d be betraying your former teammates, but what did that matter much anymore.

Rather than pulling your hand away, you placed your lips gently on his, tentatively, even. He tasted of expensive liquor and a hint of peppermint, and you found yourself intoxicated. The kiss ended far too soon for your liking, him pulling away so his brown orbs could gaze into your own.

“So… What do you say?” He asked, cupping your cheek in his hand, you place your own over top of his.

“Why not?” You smiled back, reconnecting your lips to his.

“I can make the bad guys good for a weekend.”

Taglist:

@fanfictionedagain @lam-ila @b0nnyzz @haydieenzzibug @cyanide-mustard @duchess-of-new-shire @the-chocoholic-writer @milenadixon @real-fbi @golddenlioness

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 322: IF I COULD TURN BACK TIME

Previously on BnHA: Endeavor was all, “Kirishima please take Hagakure and Aoyama and put them away somewhere out of sight until we’re finally ready for the U.A. Traitor Plot.” Shouto was all “HEY DEKU DID IT EVER OCCUR TO YOU THAT MAYBE YOU WANDERING THE STREETS LOOKING LIKE A GOTH PRAYING MANTIS IS EXACTLY WHAT AFO WANTS.” Deku was all “I’M SORRY I CAN’T HEAR YOU OVER THE SOUND OF MY CRUSHING MARTYR COMPLEX AND ACCUMULATED TRAUMA.” Mineta was all “HEY DEKU YOU SWEET THANG, IF I COULD REARRANGE THE ALPHABET I’D PUT ‘U’ AND ‘I’ TOGETHER, ANYWAYS HMU 💖”, or at least that’s what fandom apparently thought he said. Everyone was all “WELL SINCE WE’RE BACK HERE IN KAMINO WE SHOULD DO THE THING” and did the whole “launching someone into the air to save someone by dramatically grabbing their hand” thing that everybody fucking loves to do in Kamino so damn much. Iida was all “[bombards me and Deku with feels].” Deku was all, “ू(ʚ̴̶̷́ .̠ ʚ̴̶̷̥̀ ू).” I was all, “(;*△*;).” Horikoshi was all, “my work here is done.”

Today on BnHA: 

oh my god.

so I finally went back to look at what I wrote up for 321 last week, and it’s a hot fucking mess lol, and I really don’t want to deal with that right now, so we’re just gonna skip it and go back sometime in the next few days or something because I really want to read the new chapter and I have no self control. I’M SORRY IIDA

oh my god he’s breaking out the narration word bubbles oh my god. shit is about to get epic isn’t it

has there ever been a chapter that opened with these that WASN’T epic? serious question. anyways all aboard the Feels Express I guess

YEP

I saved a bunch of other crying kaomojis when I was looking for ones to use in the “previously on” summary, and right now it’s looking like that was a good fucking decision you guys. if I’m going to be an emotional wreck I might as well do it in style ʕ ಡ ﹏ ಡ ʔ

AND BY THE WAY!!

SHOULD I JUST THANK HORIKOSHI NOW AND SAVE MYSELF SOME TIME LATER. THE MAN ALWAYS FUCKING DELIVERS WHAT ELSE CAN I FUCKING SAY GODDAMN. IS IT TOO EARLY TO DECLARE THIS MY NEW FAVORITE CHAPTER? I SHOULD PROBABLY READ FURTHER THAN ONE PAGE BUT I’VE JUST GOT A FEELING

(ETA: it’s like. maybe my second favorite lol. A HUG WOULD HAVE PUT IT IN FIRST, I’M JUST SAYING.)

anyway so Ochako is releasing Iida, which is actually hilarious, because idk if you all know this but Iida can’t fucking fly you guys

like, I assume Ochako released him because she already knew that Kirishima was in place to catch him, but I really love this split-second of panic on Iida’s part where he’s all “HMM, IS OCHAKO TRYING TO KILL ME, ACTUALLY”

LOL THERE’S A THOOM AND EVERYTHING

that’s some plus fucking ultra on Ochako’s part right there. “IF THEY DIE THEY DIE” goddamn girl did you leave your chill in the same locker as Momo or what

now poor Kiri is all “DAMMIT DEKU ARE YOU PASSED OUT OR WHAT, I DIDN’T GET TO TELL YOU MY THING GODDAMMIT”

oh my gosh he is curled up so small you guys oh my fucking lord

RESIDUAL “LOST CHILD” FEELS FROM LAST WEEK COMING IN FOR A LANDING!! PLEASE MAKE SURE YOUR SEATBACKS AND TRAY TABLES ARE IN THEIR UPRIGHT POSITIONS OMG ( ˚͈͈͈͈̥̆ ₍₎ ˚͈͈͈͈̥̆ )

LMAO IIDA IS TRYING TO CONFIRM THAT OCHAKO PLANNED FOR KIRISHIMA TO CATCH HIM, AND KIRISHIMA IS ALL “NOPE I’M JUST HERE BY CHANCE BRO”

Ochako is the U.A. Traitor confirmed. Hagakure I am so sorry I doubted you. Ochako get over here. so are you Toga now or what

anyway so now everyone is running over before Iida can react to this casual announcement of his attempted murder. and now Mina is taking her turn, and Horikoshi is all “HEY BTW IS MINA CRYING ON THE LIST OF THINGS THAT MAKE YOU CRY?” and of fucking course it is, you bastard. I’m not made of stone

( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

SLDKFJLSDKJ:LKWEJ

IS THIS THE PART WHERE I JUST START SCREAMING INCOHERENTLY FOR THE REST OF THE CHAPTER LOL. SURE FEELS LIKE WE ARE GETTING TO THAT TIME

OH MY GOD KACCHAN AHHHHH

I CAN’T OMG LOL I ALREADY GLANCED AT THE NEXT COUPLE OF PANELS, AND HE’S STARTING A WHOLEASS MONOLOGUE ABOUT ALL OF HIS DEKU FEELS AND OH MY GOD

“HERE YOU GO MAKESTE, A WHOLE CHAPTER OF ALL YOUR FAVORITE META TOPICS JUST THE WAY YOU LIKE THEM” THANK YOU HORIKOSHI YOU’RE A BRO (っ˘̩╭╮˘̩)っ

SLKASODIFALWKFLKJ

THEY’RE JUST DEKU AND KACCHAN. holy shit you guys. because oh my god, but it’s like when Deku was talking to the Vestiges about saving Tomura, and he turned into his little child self because his heart and intentions were so pure?? and it’s like that again, except that we’re seeing them as their child selves because that’s who they are to each other?? like, not that they actually see each other as children, but just, they can see past all of the stuff on the outside and see each other to their cores, to who they are inside, and when they look at each other they each simply see the other boy that they’ve known their whole entire life. idk?? does that make sense??? DOES ANY OF THIS EVEN MAKE SENSE I DON’T KNOW WHAT WORDS ARE ANYMORE I’M JUST SWIMMING IN FEELS OKAY. I’M TRYING HERE

they’re just boys, is what I’m trying to say, I guess. just Deku and Kacchan. all the walls are down, all the gaps are bridged, and all it is is the one boy reaching out and connecting with the other, and just,,, (꒦ິ⌓꒦ີ)

OH MY GOD [GRABBING YOUR SHOULDERS AND POINTING WORDLESSLY] !!!1LK1

DO YOU ALL KNOW WHAT THIS IS YOU GUYS

HOW PERFECTLY FUCKING RAD. WELL LET ME JUST ENJOY THESE LAST FEW SECONDS BEFORE MY LIFE IS FOREVER CHANGED, I GUESS

OH

MY

GOD

CAN HE EVEN SAY THAT??? IS THAT EVEN LEGAL??? IS HE EVEN FUCKING ALLOWED TO SAY THAT. WHAT IS HAPPENING

OH MY GOD!!! OH MY GOD!!! OH MY GOD!!!!!!

─=≡Σ((( つ ◕o◕ )つ

GET IN HERE, EVERYONE!!

Y’ALL HE REALLY DID IT. “BAKUGOU IS SUCH AN ASSHOLE HE HASN’T EVEN APOLOGIZED” WELL GUESS FUCKING WHAT. GUESS FUCKING WHAT, YOU GUYS!! LET’S FUCKING GOOOOO ((((／￣∇￣)／＼(￣∇￣＼)))) AHHHHHHHHHH

OHHHHHHHH

HEH. I’M ALREADY DEAD, HORIKOSHI, YOU BASTARD. DO YOUR WORST. GO ON

YOU CAN ALWAYS COUNT ON “US”, HE SAYS. ALONG WITH A BUNCH OF OTHER STUFF OMG. KACCHAN, YOU STUDIED!! YOU UNDERSTAND!! PREACH!!

OH NO!!

OH WAIT!!!!

LOL I GOT SCARED THERE FOR A SECOND BUT ANYWAY! EVERYONE GET IN HERE!!! GROUP HUG!!! OR WAIT, NO, WHAT ABOUT -- [GRABS YOUR COLLAR URGENTLY] YOU DON’T THINK -- COULD THEY POSSIBLY -- !!!!!!

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

ARE YOU GONNA HUG!??!?!?!?! I AM NOT OKAY!!!!!!! !!!hgk

REACTION PANELS LOL EVERYONE ELSE IS ON THE EDGE OF THEIR SEATS TOO WE’RE ALL IN THIS TOGETHER

LOL OCHAKO

I KNOW THAT IN REALITY THIS FACE IS JUST BECAUSE SHE’S CONCERNED ABOUT DEKU’S FRAGILE STATE RN, BUT I KEEP THINKING ABOUT THE WAY SHE JUST DROPPED IIDA COLD THOUGH, AND I CAN’T HELP BUT FEAR FOR KACCHAN’S SAFETY LMAO. THAT FEELING WHEN THE CLASS PERV AND THE CLASS BULLY BOTH BEAT YOU TO THE LOVE CONFESSION. KACCHAN WATCH YOUR SIX

OKAY BUT LOOK, IT’S NOT THAT I DON’T LOVE ALL OF THE OTHER KIDS, OKAY, BUT CAN WE PLEASE!??!?! HELLO?!?!? MOMO, JUST -- COULD YOU JUST FOR A MINUTE --

NOOOOOOOOOOO

“DON’T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT, I HAVE TO SAVE SOMETHING FOR THE FINALE” HORIKOSHI YOU BETTER WATCH OUT, I’M COMING FOR YOU WITH A TWO BY FOUR!! NOT THAT I’M UNGRATEFUL!! BUT JESUS CHRIST, YOU CAN’T JUST DO THAT, AND THEN ALMOST DO THAT, AND THEN NOT!! OMG I HATE YOU

sure let’s cut to Thirteen then, yay. I mean I’m glad they’re alive lol, don’t get me wrong

(ETA: I think that might have sounded a bit sarcastic so I just want to clarify that I really am happy Thirteen is alive and on the job again lol.)

it’s just that if your name doesn’t begin with Baku or Deku I honestly am not interested for just these next five minutes okay lol. like I’m just gonna be completely honest. I am too invested lol, please, they were having a moment, JUST LET ME HAVE THIS PLEASE

OH DAMN U.A. GOT SWOLE AF

THIS SCHOOL HAS BEEN JUICING WTF. I THOUGHT YOU WERE TARTARUS LOL

I’m literally not even reading the speech bubbles though omg I’m so sorry. I really hope there is not a quiz, I promise I will come back to it later scroll scroll scroll

okay so they brought him back to U.A. and he’s all tired and out of it yes

oh goody Hagakure knows all about the security system

(ETA: is it just me or is Horikoshi really laying it on thick with the hints about these two guys lately? I’m on to you sir.)

THAT’S WONDERFUL NEWS. GLAD THIS CRITICAL KNOWLEDGE IS SAFE IN THE HANDS OF THE PEOPLE THAT WE TRUST

ffs Deku

WHAT WILL IT EVEN TAKE TO CONVINCE YOU THEN?? SWEET JESUS

-- holy shit, what??!

they know?? how did they find out??! holy shit???

I’m about to cancel the whole of Japan lmao. fucking try me dudes

-- THE PRINCIPAL!?

NEZU GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!! WHAT THE FUCK

“a ticking time bomb” tell you what, this man is just asking to be punched in the face. literally begging for it omg

(ETA: I have been advised that I misread this part; Rat Principal told everyone how safe U.A. was, but he’s not the one who ratted out Deku; that was “the rumors”, apparently. which, if I had to guess, were probably started by AFO.)

oh I see, so it’s to be Feels, Part II then

he looks so sad and tired and lonely and she goes right for the hand, god bless. though if Kacchan’s not gonna hug him, you’d think someone would at least. or is it because he still smells bad. hmm

AND THE CHAPTER’S ENDING ON HER LOL WELL OKAY THEN

I MEAN IT’S GREAT AND ALL, I LOVE OCHAKO REALLY I DO, BUT WE WERE PROMISED GREAT EXPLOSION MURDER GODS, WHAT GIVES SOB. I WAS ALL READY TO BREAK OUT INTO SONG AND EVERYTHING. SURE, HE DID THE APOLOGY, BUT WHERE IS THE FOLLOW-UP GODDAMMIT

(ETA: just to clarify the reason for my rambling here, I was really waiting for the hero name reveal and the presumed deeper meaning behind it lol. but I guess that is a conversation still to come! and we still need Deku’s response to the apology too for that matter. lots to look forward to still.)

WELL WHATEVER, SO THAT IS THE END OF THE CHAPTER! SHOUT OUT TO MY BOY RAT “LET ME JUST TELL EVERYONE IN THE ENTIRE WORLD ABOUT DEKU’S SUPER SECRET IDENTITY, I GUESS THAT’S ALL RIGHT NOW, NOTHING BAD COULD POSSIBLY COME OF THIS” PRINCIPAL. listen here you little shit

anyway but if you’ll excuse me... IF I COULD TURN BACK TIME. IF I COULD FIND A WAY. I’D TAKE BACK THOSE WORDS THAT HAVE HURT YOU, AND YOU’D STAY. I DON’T KNOW WHY I DID THE THINGS I DID. I DON’T KNOW WHY I SAID THE THINGS I SAID. PRIDE’S LIKE A KNIFE, IT CAN CUT DEEP INSIDE. WORDS ARE LIKE WEAPONS, THEY WOUND SOMETIMES. BUM~ BUM~ BUM~, I DIDN’T REALLY MEAN TO HURT YOU. BUM~ BUM~ BUM~, I DIDN’T WANNA SEE YOU GO. I KNOW I MADE YOU CRY, BUT BABAY, IF I COULD TUUUUURN BACK TIIIIIIIIIIIME...