#like is it just a me thing to see if anyone else mentioned what i was going to say and see if op responded?

[moonstruckme]

Hello tumblr has decided to temporarily disappear the request I'm ready to post again, so sorry and thank you for requesting <3

Request: i love love love your writing and was wondering if you’d write a period hurt/comfort with james? i have really bad endometriosis, and i’ve never really had someone take it seriously :( fainted earlier so i’m in pain rn and i just know james would be such a sweetheart

cw: modern au, reader who menstruates, very mild/vague description of cramps, male gaslighting/suspicion of female pain (what else is new)

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 895 words

“Will that be all?” The geniality in James’ tone is starting to wane thin. He paces aimlessly around your flat, down the hall and into the bedroom and then back out again, footsteps meandering about the kitchen. “Right, yeah. No, I’m quite sure she’ll be out all day.” 

James shoots you an exasperated look as he comes into the sitting room, and you manage a smile-esque grimace from the couch in return. Your boss is a piece of work, you know. 

You hold out your hand for the phone. James shakes his head. 

“No, she can’t come to the phone right now,” he says, sitting beside your curled-up legs. “She’s resting. Did I mention she fainted a bit ago? Alright, yeah, just checking. Yeah. Yeah, okay. I’ll let her know.” 

You grimace again when he puts down the phone. Hanging up without telling the other person to have a lovely day is like James’ equivalent of the middle finger. 

“Sorry,” you say. 

“What’re you sorry for?” James gives your calf a gentle squeeze. “Your boss is rather pushy, isn’t he? Shouldn’t take so much to use a sick day.”

“I don’t think he believes me.” You let your face mush deeply into a throw pillow. There’s a light sweat broken out on your brow, but you couldn’t be more grateful for the sweltering heating pad held tight over your abdomen. “I could’ve talked to him.” 

James makes a face. “You shouldn’t have to deal with someone like that when you’re already poorly.”  

“What did he want you to let me know?” 

“Oh. Uh.” James seems as though he did not, in fact, plan to let you know, but now that you’ve asked he can’t avoid it. “He said that he expects to see you in tomorrow. We’ll see.” 

You sigh. “I might be able to manage tomorrow. Or I might be a bit better, at least.” 

“We’ll see,” he says again, stooping to mush a kiss into the side of your head. “Don’t worry about that yet, sweetheart. How are you feeling now?” 

“Better than when I woke up.” 

“Yeah?” James asks hopefully. It’s a low bar, considering that early this morning the pain had been bad enough to cause you to pass out. But if there’s one thing James can be relied upon for, it’s a positive outlook. “That’s great, lovie. Is there anything you need?”

You shake your head, breaths shallowing as your cramps worsen. Nausea pinches the back of your throat. James’ face pinches, too, as he sees. He rubs your lower back where the muscles tend to clench. 

“Is there anything you want?” he asks instead. 

It almost makes you laugh. Almost, but even that’s enough to ease the pain slightly. 

“No,” you say, breathing out as the worst passes. James continues massaging your back. “Thanks.” 

“Maybe we could try a walk later, if you’re feeling better,” he says. “Some light exercise might help.” 

“Maybe,” you murmur. Truly, the thought of leaving this couch anytime during the next week makes you want to sew yourself into the cushions. James probably knows you’re only humoring him, but he doesn’t say anything. When you hug your heating pad closer, he spreads his palm flat over your back to transfer heat there, too. 

You relax some when the cramp eases the rest of the way. “Sorry. I don’t mean to take over your whole day.” 

“Sweetheart, why are you sorry?” James places his free hand over yours on your heating pad. Between that and the one on your back, it’s almost like a hug. “I know you don’t want this to happen. And, honestly, I’d rather have my day taken over by you than anyone else. Don’t tell Sirius.” 

That coaxes a small smile out of you. James grins, leaning down again to plant a kiss on your cheek. 

“I’m sorry you’re so miserable.” 

“I’m not miserable,” you say. “I’m with you.” 

James makes a horrendously fond sound, cuddling you close. “You flatterer. I don’t know where you find the energy to be so sweet during times like this.” 

You make it easy, you want to say, but James will only think you’re playing along with him and you want to say it when he’ll hear the sincerity you mean it with. Instead, you intertwine your fingers with his and say, “I’ve thought of something I want.” 

“Yeah?” James sits up. He brushes a few strands of hair away from your face, mindless of your clamminess. You think that maybe the only thing bigger than James’ capacity for love is how it feels to be at the center of it. “Some tea, maybe? That tumeric one helped a bit last time, remember?” 

“Maybe later,” you say, voice softening. “For now, could I please have a kiss?” 

James blinks once in surprise, but then he grins. “Ah, for the endorphins,” he says, already bending down. “Good thinking, angel.” 

“Right.” You don’t know where he gets these facts. You suspect he scrolls through endometriosis reddit forums while you’re asleep. “Yeah.” 

James makes it a kiss worth asking for. He keeps his hand flat over your back as he leans over you, the other cupping your cheek to encourage your face towards him. And when your lips part, you do feel a bit better. It’s a magical cure-all, just like the fairytales say.

[fear-is-truth]

PLAYER 124 / NAM-GYU as your boyfriend

warnings — kinda toxic. mention of drug use. a/n — who should i write for next…

남규

nam-gyu is the kind of partner who constantly needs to feel in control. he has a fragile ego, so he’d want to prove he’s the one in charge in the relationship, even if it means belittling you in arguments. he’s not the type to openly apologise; instead, he’d try to “make it up” by buying you gifts or doing something overly performative to smooth things over.

wouldn’t outright say “i love you” (saranghae; 사랑해) unless it’s in the middle of an argument or you’re threatening to leave. it wouldn’t be the “romantic” type of “i love you”; it’d be desperate, like, “fine, i love you, okay? is that what you want to hear?” then he’d get mad at himself for even saying it lol.

he’d have a complicated way of showing affection—instead of saying something sweet, he’d tell you, “that hoodie looks ugly as hell, but you somehow make it work.” or, “you’re lucky you’ve got me looking out for you.” it’s almost backhanded, like he’s scared of being too soft.

when it comes to physical touch, he’d only be comfortable initiating it when he’s in control. he’d sling an arm over your shoulder in public to make sure everyone knows you’re his, but in private, he’d sit stiffly until you coaxed him to relax. if you tried to cuddle him or play with his hair, he’d grumble, “stop being clingy,” but wouldn’t pull away—and if you did stop, he’d be like, “what, now you’re ignoring me?”

he’d NEVER let you see him cry. he’d bottle up everything until it spills over in a way that’s either pure rage or self-destructive. but maybe, just maybe, he’d have a mini breakdown and choke out something like, “i’m so fucking tired,” and let you hold him for a minute before he shuts it all down again and pretends it didn’t happen.

his jealousy would be off the charts. if he even suspects someone else is catching your attention, he’d immediately become aggressive and violent toward the perceived “threat.” then he’d accuse you of flirting or not appreciating him enough, even if you’ve done nothing wrong.

he’d have this really toxic habit of trying to “test” your loyalty. like, he’d say something purposely cruel just to see how much you’d put up with, and if you didn’t take the bait, he’d either feel validated or spiral into self-loathing because he’s scared you’ll leave. he’s the kind of guy who pushes people away but gets furious when they actually go.

he’s manipulative and would use your vulnerabilities against you during fights, twisting your words to make himself seem like the victim. he thrives on power dynamics, so if you’re someone with a soft heart, he’d use that to his advantage to get his way. he’s not above emotional blackmail.

obsesses over how others perceive him, so he’d put a lot of energy into making sure you’re impressed by him. even if he’s not doing well, he’d brag about some minor victory just to hear you say you’re proud of him. if you ever criticised him—like genuinely, not jokingly—it’d eat him alive. he’d act like it didn’t bother him, but he’d bring it up days later in a passive-aggressive comment like, “guess i’m just not good enough for you, huh?”

he strikes me as the guy who’d buy you expensive gifts, to prove he’s capable of taking care of you. he’d probably get something super flashy and impractical, and then get annoyed if you fawn over it immediately. “what, you don’t like it? i spent a lot of money on that shit.”

deep down, i feel like he’s terrified of being alone. he doesn’t know how to show it in a healthy way, so it comes out as possessiveness. like, he’d constantly ask where you’re going, who you’re with, and what you’re doing—not because he genuinely doesn’t trust you, but because he doesn’t trust himself to be worth staying for. if you ever left him on read, even for a little while, he’d overthink it to the point of spiraling, doing drugs etc.

has zero tolerance when it comes to anyone disrespecting you. if someone said something rude or crossed a line, he wouldn’t hesitate to fight them to defend your honour.

definitely not the type to plan cute dates or do anything traditionally romantic. instead, he’d drag you along to things he already likes—bars, shady clubs—and expect you to have fun. but sometimes, when he’s in a good mood, he might surprise you by doing something actually thoughtful, like showing up at your door with your favourite street snack or insisting on watching a movie he secretly hates just because he knows it makes you happy.

his love language would probably be acts of service, but only in an effed-up way where it feeds his own need for validation. he’d show his love by offering to “solve” your problems, but he’d expect endless praise for it. he’d remind you constantly of how lucky you are to have him.

feels completely out of his depth when you’re sad, but he can’t stand seeing you like that. instead of asking what’s wrong (because vulnerability makes him squirm), he’d focus on practical things. if you haven’t eaten, he’d come back with takeout—probably ordering your favourite without even asking because he’s memorised it by now. he wouldn’t outright express his concern, though. instead, he’d shove the food at you with a gruff, “here. eat this before you waste away or something.”

despite his flaws, when you’re sad or feeling low, there’s a small part of him that genuinely wants to help, even if he doesn’t know how. he’d sit awkwardly next to you, fidgeting with his rings, and mutter, “you’re stronger than this, you know. don’t let whatever’s bothering you win.” …. the closest thing to a pep talk he can manage.

nam-gyu is FAR from an ideal boyfriend—he’s moody, defensive, and often toxic in the way he handles his emotions. his need for control and his inability to communicate openly make him exhausting to deal with at times, especially when his insecurities get the better of him. but underneath all that mess, he knows he’s piece of work, and a part of him feels like you’ll wake up one day and realise you deserve better. this fear makes him hold on too tightly, sometimes suffocatingly so, but it also drives him to try—clumsily, imperfectly, but genuinely for you. he doesn’t know how to love in a healthy way, but he does love, and he loves deeply.

 fear-is-truth 2025 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[esotericbluntbaby]

your hamzah angst was sooo good 😭 i really love this specific concept of angst where one of them distances from the other 🥹🥹

maybe you could do a prompt where y/n is scared to date hamzah?? maybe even rejecting him at first or something omg...

or one where they get into an argument which makes one of them distance themselves from the other (i love this concept so much sorry LOL)

passionfruit

hamzahthefantastic x reader

description: heartbroken by the reader rejecting his advances out of fear, hamzah finds someone else; yet, he doesn't realize he looks for you in her until it was almost too late.

mentions: roommate!hamzah, angst, feelings of abandonment, she/her pronouns, happy ending, sfw!

i was listening to passionfruit by drake while writing this lol i was trying to go for a trope where they're both yearning but there's a blockage in the way of them getting to each other. "leaving, you're just doing that to get even" really inspired me

--

"this is azra, my girlfriend," hamzah admitted as you gazed at the alluring girl he brought into the apartment.

in moments, you felt like the library of alexandria has fallen once again. all the enriching history and knowledge you once knew, in addition to him knowing as well, was burnt to a crisp like a match to dry grass. you wondered if things could've been different; if you had finally grown the courage in the garden of your soul to tell him how you truly felt. yet, it was too late to dwell.

you couldn't blame him for getting a girlfriend, especially one as pretty as she is. technically, he wasn't yours to begin with; he was merely your roommate living in the room parallel to you. however, for a while, it felt like he was. the chemistry between the two of you morphed into a familiar tension of pairs; grapes are connected by their stems in the way that leaves are connected by the branches, the same way that you two were connected by the many traits you had in common.

there was always exchanged glances. the contact between your eyes and his created a candle flame that the wrinkles and creases from his smile would fan. you two acknowledged it, leading to social settings being disrupted by being stuck in a cycle of addiction: an addiction to the understanding you two had for each other with merely a look. some call it the look of love, but you and hamzah never even had the chance to speak about it.

eventually, the shared eye contact turned into physical contact. whether it was interlocking your arms or hands or legs together while cuddling on the couch, or simply sitting on the floor to him and resting your head on his thigh as he played games with martin, days went by with a different method of touch brightening both of your days.

one time, specifically, you began to cry because of the stress that consumed any amount of happiness you were able to feel. assuming that hamzah would just hang out with you, possibly giving you a long and needed hug, you decided to go to his room. opening the door to you on the verge of breaking down in front of him, he not only gave you a hug, but also pecked your forehead and cheeks with kisses while whispering reassurance and affirmations into your ear. things were different from that day; you were no longer just friends.

however, with the difference in relationship, anyone would think that you two would simply talk about what you were. you guys have done practically everything together besides see each other naked or kissed on the lips; why wouldn't you begin to watch a relationship flourish when you know there was nothing that could go wrong? you knew he felt the same way that he did. why wouldn't you take the leap and see where it takes you?

you were a pussy. that's why.

so, you began to distance as if hamzah had the black plague and you were trying to live until you were old and wrinkly. he noticed the uncomfortable amounts of quietude in the apartment and how, suddenly, you began to go out more to parties and hangouts. hamzah knows you; you were never a partying type of girl. he knew there was something up from the sheer amount of you posting on your story about a venue or houseparty you were at, despite being one of the biggest homebodies he knew. did he mention it to you? no. in fact, he amplified the distance since he thought you simply didn't like him the way he liked you. he took your distance as rejection, similar to an empty score on a test or no reply after a job interview.

you distanced yourselves from each other, causing the home to become a house with two bodies far away from each other inside of it. yet, hamzah still decided to introduce you to azra since she would be around more often, causing the awkward situation in front of you to unfold.

"it's nice to meet you," you mentioned as you shook her hand, almost as if this was a business deal instead of an introduction.

she snarked, "yeah, totally. hamzah, you didn't tell me your roommate was a girl?"

hamzah stared at her, "i did. it was one of the first things i told you when i asked if you wanted to come over, actually."

"mmm, i don't remember," she turned to look at you, "will that be a problem?"

confused, you turned your gaze from hamzah to her, "i'm not following. what are you talking about?"

"you're his roommate. you're a girl. i'm his girlfriend. is that an issue?" she cocked her eyebrow.

"no, ma'am, it won't," you reprimanded and gave hamzah a stare of annoyance, "i'm gonna go out. i'll see you later."

--

azra made herself at home in the least plausible way possible. though hamzah worked hard to keep the kitchen clean each time he decided to cook a meal for the whole house, azra would make a meal for herself and leave the dirty and stained dishes inside of the sink. hamzah would clean the single bathroom sink, since you two shared and he would feel bad if he didn't since he shaves; azra would leave her makeup on the counters in addition to watermarks on the tiling. hamzah's cats loved most people and had no issue with them being around, yet, they would hiss and run away from azra as if she was the wicked witch. the balance of the household was completely diminished ever since she began to come over more often.

so, you decided that you were going to move out. there was no longer space for you in this house anymore; not with her being hamzah's girlfriend.

knocking on hamzah's door, you prayed that his girlfriend wouldn't be in his room. there were too many times where she had accused you of attempting to take him. hamzah would defend you, which you were insanely grateful for since she was driving you up and down the walls, leaving her accusing him of wanting you, as well. the door swung open, revealing hamzah in a gray hoodie and black, nike sweatpants. his hair was held in a beanie with loose curls exiting out of the back of his head. it was always one of your favorite looks of him. he knew that.

"hey, can i come in?"

--

the clock read 12:03 am. you two sat on his bed after a brief catching up. in those mere moments, you felt like things were normal again. there was no arguing and no awkward distance from each other. in fact, even the silence of the room was comfortable. yet, you knew it couldn't go on for too long.

"so, why'd you decide to come in here?" he asked, genuinely curious.

you cleared your throat, "i just wanted to talk to you about something kinda serious."

"i'm all ears. talk to me. what's up?"

"hamzah, i think it's time for me to move out."

his eyes widened in surprise mixed with a glint of worry, "what?"

"i dunno. i just think that, maybe, you've kinda outgrown me in a way?"

"what are you talking about?"

you hesitated, silence filling the space between you.

"stop it," he softly demanded.

"stop what?"

"just say what you want to say. you're thinking about it too much. say it as it is."

you sighed, "if you're happy with azra, i think i should leave. sometimes, it hurts just to look at you guys. i know it's bad that i'm talking to you about this as you're literally with her, but i guess i haven't gotten over how close we used to be and how it could've turned into something. i think this is for the best. i'll figure out the paperwork tomorrow. i'm sorry, hamzah."

leaving his room in a rush, you began to tear up as you entered your room, went underneath your fuzzy covers, and attempted to sleep.

--

the next day flew by; you went to the front office to collect the paperwork for the resignation of your lease. attempting to fill it out was rough, since strands of doubt kept on pulling you back from fully signing each signature and information on the paper. at around 8:00 at night, you heard a knock on your door as you began to fill out the last form of resignation. your hand twisted the doorknob, slowly revealing hamzah at the opposite end; he looked like he hadn't slept in a day, as dark circled caressed the bottoms of his eyes.

"hi, um, can i come in?"

you stared at the floor, "yeah, sure."

he sat down on your bed, your mattress making a squeaking noise at the weight of his body being fully transferred onto it. you sat onto the chair of your desk, parallel to him on the bed, and swiveled it around so you would be able to see him.

you questioned out of worry, "are you okay? did you sleep at all last nigh-"

"stay."

"what?"

"stay, please. don't move out, don't go."

you sighed, "hamzah, i'm filling out the papers right now. i'm not needed here anymore."

"but you are needed here! i need you here."

"you have a girlfriend, you have to need her inst-"

"i broke up with her."

uncertainty of the conversation began to make your brain go blank, "what?"

"you can call me a fucked up person. you can call me anything, actually, but you can't say that i don't need you here. i never looked at her the way that i look at you. i think this whole time i've just been looking for everything that you are whenever i looked into her eyes. you can call me fucked up, but i just can't help it. she isn't you. it's like somehow you've tied a rope to me and i can't seem to get out of it, but i also don't want to get out of it? i realized that last night when you told me you wanted to move out."

"hamz-"

"i didn't sleep at all because i was scared."

"why?"

"i didn't want to look to the room in front of mine and have it be empty when it could've been turned into an office or something."

you furrowed your eyebrows, "hamzah, it could still be turned into an office or something. in fact, me moving out would give you more room to-"

he placed his hands on your shoulders, "that's not the point. the point is that i'd want to turn it into an office when you move into my room. the only reason i'd ever want that room to be empty is if it was because you decided that you wanted to share space with me and sleep with me in mine."

"what are you saying?"

his hand made its way to your cheek, "you said that you couldn't get over how we could've been something. we can be something. just stay.

his eyes glistened with hope and nervousness intertwined and holding hands in his irises. hesitance filled the air in between the two; the combination of the intense eye contact, as well as the physical touch of his hand cupping your cheek as if it belonged there, created a sense of uncertainty. you both were uncertain where you would end up, how you would end up, what this interaction would lead to. it was only when hamzah's lips softly landed on yours that you realized that, suddenly, everything fell into place. it was short, sweet, and supple, only lasting about a mere 2 seconds; yet, pulling away was similar to pulling two magnets apart without a handle to hold. the feeling of his lips on yours lingered even after you pulled away.

"y'know, you're a horrible person for trying to find me in another woman," you told him softly.

"call me a horrible person all you want. i'm sorry, baby," he kissed you again, "forgive me?"

"hmm.. i don't know if i can. actually, if you do me this favor, i will.

"a favor as in?"

you handed him the documents you signed, "either burn it or shred it. i don't care."

--

author's note

i have no clue if im into how this turned out, but surprise lol two in one day!

[lostinlovingrevery]

Head Over Heels

Trilogy! Logan X F! Reader

Plot: You have a major crush on Logan, and decided he's too pretty to not paint

A/N: This is purely me just being a huge romantic. I also got a polaroid camera for christmas that i use to take pictures of everything so...

Warnings: None! This is pure fluff, Reader is just a huge romantic, and crushes on Logan big time. Mentions of the other X-men, taking pictures, painting?

Word Count: 1741

Golden sun rays

Dusty library books

Tall, broody, and handsome

You were observing a photo in your study at Xavier's School for the Gifted. You were a professor there, teaching classes such as mutant ethics, mutant history, and mutant biology. Anything with mutants, that was your job; and that was by day- by night, you were an X-man. You went on dangerous missions in the name of making the world better and safer for people. You were strong, intelligent, compassionate…

And a total romantic.

You loved love. Not just romantic love, but platonic love, familiar love. You loved art, religion, and politics. You found beauty in everything, even the mundane. It didn’t matter if you’ve gotten your heartbroken before, if you were ridiculed for your passion, you enjoyed life and what it had to offer. Was every day like that? No, but that’s okay, because it only made the good days sweeter.  

You carried a polaroid camera with you often. It allows you to take pictures of things whenever you want, things that strike your fancy. A pretty rose that bloomed in the garden, a sunset at the beach, Hank in his lab, Jean and Ororo painting each others nails, Scott glaring at the camera, students studying in the halls, a bird perched on the window sill, Charles in his office, a forgotten bottle of soda sitting outside-

And your most recent addition to the collection on your wall, a photo of the X-men's new-ish recruit, Logan Howlett, the big bad Wolverine. 

He arrived close to 6 months ago. To say you immediately crushed on him the moment he showed up was an understatement. Love at first sight- was probably a more accurate description of what happened. It wasn’t enough that you already thought he was extremely handsome, his lovely face with those mutton chops , that thick head of chestnut colored hair, his hazel eyes - sharp and fierce one moment - sweet and pretty the next. He had the body that you could only compare to a Greek God. 

The attitude though, when he opened his mouth, the attitude that pissed people off but only spurred you on. 

You were head over heels. Ororo teased you that you practically had heart eyes for the wild man whenever he was around.

You two quickly became friends- if you could describe it as that since Logan Howlett does still try to be a “cool guy”, acting suave and nonchalant, but you would quickly break through the barriers he’d set up. Not because of your little “crush”, but because you were a naturally welcoming person. You understood people, had the patience of a saint, and the confidence to not take shit. All perfect for dealing with the Wolverine. You saw right through him. The sarcasm and the cockiness he would sport.  As you grew to know him, your feelings turned less from a schoolgirl crush to something more serious deep in your soul, an ache to take care of him the way no one else has- the way he deserved. You felt he had the same feelings for you, the protectiveness that he had for you, the way he picked up on your habits and quirks, and how he always spoke just a bit more softly to you than he does to anyone else. Whatever was happening, was blossoming slowly- but surely.

Nonetheless, you weren’t going to rush anything. 

But, when you saw him in the library, standing near a dusty shelf lined with books no one has touched in years, he was staring out a window, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall, his expression soft and reflective, with golden rays of the evening sun highlighting his features, you thought it was one of the prettiest things you have ever seen. You could see the thoughtfulness in Logans face, a relaxed expression that is rarely spotted on the Wolverine- who normally is gruff, a frown always seemed to be permanently painted on his face. It so happened you had your camera on you, so you quickly snapped a photo- and took off before he looked in your direction, knowing that with his amplified hearing, he would have heard the click of the camera. 

The photo honestly captivated you, like a painting with the way the sun rays came in through the window. It highlights the warm color of his hair, the structure of his face, and the toned muscles of his arm. 

You used to paint all the time. It was a hobby you thoroughly enjoyed, as it relaxed you- allowing you to take in the small details, slow down, and appreciate the gentle strokes of the brush as you carefully choose the perfect color to paint onto the canvas. You’d paint the pictures you’ve taken if they had an impact on you- much like how the Polaroid of Logan was impacting you now. You hadn’t painted in a long time, the work of being a professor and an x-men left little time to enjoy the hobby that takes a lot of time.

Seeing though, as you had time now. Why not?

Digging out your old stand, and your paints and old brushes, and fortunately, you still had at least one bare canvas left, otherwise you would have likely covered one of your older paintings- which were still stuffed in the closet of your study, to use instead. An intense need to create and make something just as beautiful as Logan was in that photo.

Starting with the background, you found yourself back in your familiar style of painting, eyeing the colors of the photo. The color of the wall, the floors, and filled in the shadows and got the placement of the window juuuust right, and was just starting to work on the bookshelf that would be behind Logan. You’d been working on it for nearly an hour, your normally overactive brain had silenced itself to focus on your task.

You hadn’t noticed Logan walking in at first. He had been looking around for you, having a surprise to give you- and found that no one else had seen you in a while, which was odd- since you were a complete busybody- and you could be spotted easily all over the mansion. He went to your study, and found you by the window, staring intensely at a canvas before you, sitting on a chair with your legs criss-crossed. He walked up to you- not silently, only clearing his throat to announce his arrival once he was next to you.

Jumping at the sound of his voice, and turning to look at him, your hand quickly snatched the polaroid that was perched against the canvas so you can look at it for reference. Logan didn’t miss how you grabbed it, and snuck it under your thigh. He quirked a brow.

“What you working on bub?” 

“Oh…” You turned to look at the canvas, and a deep blush came across your cheeks. “Just…Painting.”

“I didn’t know you could paint.” He says, a small tone of interest in his voice, making you perk up a bit.

“I haven’t done it in awhile.” shrugging, and glancing at the canvas- and relieved you hadn’t worked on Logan's actual figure yet and suddenly very aware that you had been acting on impulse- wondering if it had been strange that you decided to just paint a picture of Logan after you secretly- but not so secretly took a picture of him earlier... “I just…got hit with inspiration I suppose.” 

“Yeah?” He glanced at it. “What are you painting?...” He observed it and you let him work the details out. “A window…that a bookshelf?” 

“Excellent observation skills Lo.”

He smirked. “You do anything specific with your paintings or just…whatever?”

“I paint things I find pretty.” You say simply tilting your head to look up at him. An expression came across his face- something you couldn’t quite gauge. 

“Oh yeah?” He says. He glanced at it again. His eyes trailed over back to you. “What's so pretty about this one?”

“You’ll have to find out.” You tittered. He quirked a brow, before looking back at the canvas. The way he kept observing it made you nervous. The gears in that beautiful head of his turning. Did he recognize it?

“Hey, you take any pictures today?” He asked with a casual tone.

Your smile faltered a bit, and you bit your lower lip, chewing on it nervously.

He’s on to you

“I took a few.” You answered- your very best to be nonchalant, but he could hear the slight waver of your voice. As he placed a hand on the back of your chair, he leaned down towards you, his chin tilted upwards but his eyes bore down at you, a small quirk of his lips. Your heart started beating faster at his close proximately, and he lowered his chin down, leaving you both nearly face to face. His eyes glanced at your lips. 

“Take any by chance in…the library?” 

You swallowed, unable to tear yourself away, as a warm heat came across your cheeks. As he got closer, unable to bring yourself to answer just then- but you felt he knew what it was. Your eyes traced over his lips, and you decided you weren’t going to hide it anymore. A smile grew across your lips, as you tilted your head up at him. Confidence filled your chest, 

“I did. Of something I thought was very pretty.” You say, looking him in the eyes. A sweet smile came across his face and he closed the space between you, softly pressing his lips to yours- a heartbeat passed, giving you a chance to pull away by some off chance he was wrong, but you eagerly returned the kiss. Turning your head softly to meet with him, your noses bumped together, and you began to giggle. Your whole self felt like butterflies as adrenaline ran through your veins at the fact that you were finally, finally, kissing him.  

You separated, and you felt like he just stole your breath; He didn’t look like he felt no different from you either. His lips, slightly parted, curved up into a smile, and brought a hand up to your chin, his thumb softly pressing to your bottom lip, as you looked up at him with bright, adoring eyes.

“You got that camera on you? I got something pretty I want to take a picture of too.”

[gh0stly-mp3]

would you break my heart, oliver?

oliver aiku x teammate male!reader

synopisis: oliver aiku, your best friend, shows up at your apartment at 3 AM after breaking up with his gf cause he cheated, but you get mad at him

tags: bff!reader, center back!reader, reader is lovely, oliver is bad with real feelings, both are secretly in love

warnings: cheating, angst w happy ending, fear of unreciprocated love, pretty gn (like 2 mentions of gender)

Oliver is the typical womanizer (but with all genders) who never dates the same person for more than two months. According to him, he gets bored very quickly, which is why he has a new partner every few months.

You, on the other hand, have always been in long-term, consistent relationships, taking a while to confess to whomever you liked and always wanting to make sure that you both feel the same way about each other.

Even though you were opposites, you were still best friends and teammates for a long time, and you always scolded Oliver for his inconsequential attitudes towards his love life (but he hardly ever listened).

The last straw for you was when he showed up at your house at 3 AM because his then-girlfriend kicked him out after discovering he was talking to someone else on instagram. You were incredulous; you knew he was a scumbag, but you didn't expect it to be this bad; after all, he was there when you got cheated on, something that affected you a lot.

"What the fuck, Oliver? What are you thinking, man? Jumping from relationship to relationship is one thing, but cheating is another level! I can't believe this, dude." - You yelled.

"I made a mistake, okay? I'm sorry, it's just..." - Oliver tried to explain himself, visibly nervous about your reaction.

"I don't care! If you stay at my place tonight, tomorrow you'll have to apologize to her and admit that you're an idiot... Oh, and you'll sleep on the couch".

"What? I know i fucked up, but it's cold, man, you always let me sleep with you".

"Not today, cause if you betray the trust of someone who trusted you with their body and heart, why the fuck would anyone else trust you? Grow the fuck up..." - You said harshly, heading for the cupboards and taking out a pillow and a blanket for Oliver. - "Good night, Oliver. We'll talk tomorrow"

As you lay down on your bed, you curled up, clutching your legs. If he could do this to a girl as beautiful as Haruka, what could he do to you? You were just one of his male friends.

You've been friends forever, you were the first guy to talk to Oliver when he joined your team. Your bond was incredible, you understood each other so well, you liked the same things and had the same mindset on a match. You two occupied the same defensive position as center backs, and together you were unstoppable.

But how did it all end up like this? How did you end up falling in love with him? Oliver was incredible at everything except relationships, and the one thing you shouldn't have wanted was exactly what you did want. His love.

You listened to the way he talked about his partners and wished he'd talk about you the same way, but then you remembered what was to follow, a dry and emotionless breakup. How could such a gentleman be such a whore at the same time?

Anyway, there you were, crying silent tears, thinking that if you tried to confess your love for him, you would end up with a heart broken into more than a thousand pieces. While these thoughts were running through your head, you heard footsteps and then a knock on the door.

"Hey... Can we talk? I..." - It was Oliver, speaking in a low, weak voice. "I don't want you to think I'm terrible..."

"Oliver, not now..." - You replied, distressed at the thought of him seeing you cry. - "It's okay, man..."

"Promise you won't hate me?" - He asked, scared. - "I didn't know you'd be so pissed off and... You're the only person I really have, I don't want to lose you over something I did without thinking..." - Definitely something you'd rarely hear come out of Oliver's mouth, he was finally putting his real feelings into something.

"It's not that, Oliver..." - The words, stuck in your throat, urgently wanted to come out. Just say it, three words, that's all. - "I..."

The door handle is pushed down slowly, you see the face of a distressed Oliver, which makes your heart squeeze a bit. You don't hate him, it's quite the opposite actually, but you can't tell him that, can you?

"Look... I was a jerk to Haruka, and besides, I did exactly what you said I should never do. I'm sorry, okay? I just don't want you to hate me, even though I might deserve it... I just want to have someone like you around, you know?" - Deep down, Oliver knew exactly what his problem was, his stomach full of fluttering butterflies was a symptom he'd hardly ever felt. A symptom of this so-called love.

"Would you cheat on me? If you loved me, would you betray me too? Would you get tired of me?" - You asked hopelessly, not wanting to hear the answer.

"Never. Absolutely never." - He answered without hesitation. - "You?... only a complete lunatic would cheat on you. For fuck's sake, I've been your friend for years and I've never even been bored around you! I'd give anything to have someone like you!" - Oliver shut up abruptly when he realized that perhaps he had said too much.

"How could I be sure of that?"

"If I cheated on you, I'd give up soccer" - a direct and honest answer, the truth of his heart. Few words would have such an impact on you as those.

You widened your eyes, wondering if you had actually heard those words come out of Oliver's mouth. He would give up soccer for you? Really? A wave of emotions washed over your body and with an impulse you got out of bed and hugged him tightly.

"Please don't give up soccer... Keep playing with me... And love me." - the most heartfelt words you've ever said, put into play, all your cards on the table. Now it was his turn.

"I already love you, idiot."

[cripplecharacters]

I’m working on a robot character, and I wanted to know if it’s at all inappropriate to have the character (named Blip, uses he/it pronouns) have the “robot equivalent” of a traumatic brain injury and acquired facial differences, if that makes sense?

As it’s planned right now, he has one broken “eye” (kind of a camera lens) that no longer processes visual input, a damaged antenna and internal processor that sometimes misreads incoming signals leading to confusion, and a staticky slur to his speech (its voice would otherwise sound like a generic Siri-type thing, but it occasionally breaks into static). It also has visible damage to the side of its face with the broken eye. (Not a dented-in head, though, because I have a feeling that would conjure up ableist caricatures of brain injuries and I want to avoid that).

I just want to check if any of that sounds offensive, or if you have input on how to represent these features better. Thank you!

Hey! I'll answer for the part related to the facial difference and leave the brain injury to other mods.

Honestly this sounds fine to me. Just on the basis of this being a robot character named Blip, which seems quite silly (positive) and I enjoy seeing characters with FDs who aren't dead-serious and joyless all the time. The fact that he's not human (or even too humanoid, from the description) also helps since a lot of the negative tropes specifically affect how real humans are seen, if you're portraying an anthropomorphized computer then that's just very different. I don't think anyone would see a real person without an eye and think of a robot which avoids the entire "ableds think it's normal to compare a burn survivor they saw in the grocery store to Freddy Krueger" problem, even if you do end up falling into a trope with this character.

Definitely a good call in avoiding the indented skull* since the way it's generally used is a caricature and a borderline dogwhistle at this point. If you want to show that there was some sort of injury on the side of Blip's head, you could give him a different colored-metal plate there (or whatever else it's made out of), or give it a shiny texture to contrast with the rest of him being matte, make the damaged part thicker, etc. If his eye was damaged and is camera-like, you could have the shutter not close, or not move, or otherwise work differently from the other one (that's how my own ptosis would translate into a robot character... I think).

*Craniotomy, craniectomy, congenital cranial conditions, these are all real things that real people have and live with, so this isn't to say that this is always a no-go, because it's not. However, one needs to be very careful and sensitive to represent it respectfully due to what I originally mentioned. I'd strongly advise going with a sensitivity reader if that's something anyone reading this would want to include in their writing or art, and this aspect should be taken under consideration from the starting concept of the character.

For last advice, I'd try to not describe him "broken" as a whole if you're trying to represent him as disabled, since the whole "disabled people are broken". Not that it's wrong to refer to a body part like a leg or an eye as broken if one wants to do that; I mean referring like that to the entire person (or robot). I mention it since it's a common thing when it comes to robot fiction etc. but might come off weird in the context of an obviously disabled one.

I hope this helps,

mod Sasza

Hello,

As the human brain is basically a computer and our brain injuries are basically damage to that computer that changes how to computer functions, having a robot character with a TBI is a fairly easy thing to do. Damage to a human's sensory cortex (part of the cerebrum, one of three main parts of the brain) can cause sensory symptoms like the ones you're describing. This damage would be in his equivalent of the parietal lobe, which uses the information provided by external senses to navigate and have spacial sense, the temporal lobe, which has the auditory cortex and also helps with processing visual input and doing things like speech and reading, or the optical lobe, which is responsible for visual processing. If you'd like your character to have a more human brain in structure, you can look into other abilities that might be affected. But you can also just design his brain however you want it to be designed and that works, too, since he has a reason for his brain not being accurate to a human's brain.

Slurred speech is definitely a symptom that can come of a traumatic brain injury, especially a brain injury to the temporal lobe, and what he has also kind of sounds like a stutter or maybe him trailing off, which can also be issues we get.

And yes, I agree with Sasza about the dented head, definitely a good thing to avoid. If you want, you could incorporate a metal plate implanted on his "skull," which is a medical treatment for certain types of skull injuries to prevent complications and also to give the skull a more normal shape, which is called a cranioplasty.

Everything sounds good on the traumatic brain injury front

Mod Aaron

[shyve3]

Messy Season 1 Finale Rant

SPOILERS!!

first things first:

i owe the "Buddy is a key theorists" a MASSIVE apology. holy shit you guys are actually geniuses.

i read some of the finale theories, and one of them mentioned that the fact that Nox referred to one of the keys as an "it" in the first few episodes, meaning it could've been possible he was turned into a key at some point, leading him to refer to Violet as an actual person.

Dreams by Night was a really confusing episode to me, but i feel like it ties in a lot with what happened this season and possibly WHY he's a key.

The lock suggests that he's been trapped, and later in Dreams by day we see another panel of him locked up. That also makes me wonder if it was around this time he was turned into a key, and his "original" body or however he looked in stories was TRAPPED in a coffin like this one.

Anyone else who theorized about Dreams by Day, maybe I'm wrong, but I feel like this dream wasn't JUST a thing Chase imagined. It was also Nox's story.

like he looked absolutely terrified in both panels, and we can assume that maybe this was a memory of Nox's that we witnessed?

it would also make sense why "Buddy" had the number "2" written on the back of him. it would be like he wasn't a key at the time.

Even before we saw this episode, I always used to wonder how the keys really came to be. I know they're meant to go into stories, but I genuinely feel like they were once human. Especially after seeing this episode, where he had a desire to be free.

At first I think his wish would've been directed to his "leaders" of Ex-Libris, probably something selfish and horrible assuming they're basically holding Buddy hostage.

Maybe after he was turned into a key he has a little less anger towards Chase?? Now, the conversation with Violet shows his desire to be free.

But it hurt my heart to see his hopelessness even after kissing Chase. For Chase, it was amazing, but to Buddy it was "nothing could come out of this" ARGHHH

This is also so huge because guys, the Keys are People Too ;) But literally this time!! I KNEW it but this is so amazing

There were 4 missing keys, hence the 4 marks on his chest. We know where 3 of the keys are, but we know nothing of the 1 key. What if Buddy was turned into a key because of this, as a "punishment" ?

this rant literally makes no sense but im NOT okay after the finale and i need to think about this more because what the hell. i seriously need time to piece things together.

yes thats me right now.

[muddyorbsblr]

empty baskets

'one look and they'll know' collection masterlist See my full list of works here!

Placement: dating era; a few weeks after 'the warmest bed i've ever known'

Summary: Tom makes a concerning discovery on laundry day

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warning/s: steamy moments at the end; insecure Reader; mentions of previous cheating from exes; mentions of former toxic relationships [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: cinnamon roll bf Tomathy hours

The sound of the front door to his house closing alerted Tom of your return, a smile stretching across his face when you called out his name.

"In the laundry room, sweetheart. I'll be with you in a minute," he answered.

"Remember to separate your lights and darks." He could practically hear the amused smile on your face as you said the words.

His heart swelled at the comfortable humorous tone that you'd taken, at the familiarity that had woven its way into your exchanges, no matter how minuscule they might have been to anyone who would have been listening. After the scare of nearly losing you just under a month ago, he knew better than to take any moment with you for granted.

Tom dropped a final black running shirt into the load and was just about to start it, when he finally noticed what had felt off about this particular chore. What he had been feeling off about the past few weeks.

None of the clothes in the wash were yours. Not a single garment.

I must have missed them, he thought to himself, going through the other basket, brows furrowing together when he found it was just as empty as the one in his hand.

You'd been staying with him for the last two weeks, and he knew that you changed clothes. That was, at least during the times when the two of you were clothed in the house.

And yet despite that, he couldn't find a single item of your clothing in this room. Which led him to believe that you were keeping them in a laundry bag. Probably where you stashed your suitcase, in the entry way coat closet.

Only thing was that your laundry bag was nowhere to be found, and your suitcase was suspiciously heavier than it was yesterday morning. "Y/N?" he called out to you, unable to help the smile on his face when you peeked your head out from the study.

"What's up?"

"Anything you need to put in the wash, sweetheart?"

The confusion worsened when you shook your head. "Nope, I'm all good." And then you gave him a smile that was so strained it filled him with a sense of dread. The same kind of dread that he felt when he came home not two weeks ago to find you curled up in a chair, mumbling words that threatened to turn his world asunder had he not stopped you.

What were you hiding?

He made his way over to you, placing his hands on your shoulders, heart thundering in his chest when he saw the avoidant look in your eyes. Like you were desperately trying to scour your mind for a way out.

Just like you were that night he showed up at your doorstep. When you blurted out how you felt about him and promptly tried to take it back, denying you said anything at all. "You don't need to hide anything from me, goddess," he said carefully, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. "I want you to know that."

"My dirty clothes are in the Four Seasons, I have a room booked there to keep my things," you blurted out, the words rushing out of you with a sheepish look on your face. "That's where I went this morning, to grab a new set of clothes and…anything else I might need."

Tom took in a deep breath, unaware that he'd been holding it while awaiting your answer. A weight was somewhat lifted from his chest, though there was still the lingering fear that somehow part of this secret was in the form of another person.

It had happened before, with previous relationships. And while he felt that fear significantly less when you were around, it still lingered…and festered into something that had the potential to be crippling if it ever turned out to be true.

Even if it was fairly early on in the relationship, he knew in the depths of his soul that this would be his last. You would be the one he spent the rest of his life loving, the one he would build his future with. And whether that future entailed marriage and children, it no longer mattered to him.

What mattered, all that mattered, was that future would have you.

"Why?" he asked, silently pleading that the answer wouldn't involve his worst fears. He couldn't take that. Not from you.

"It's for…just in case," you said, barely audible. Your eyes began to mist over as you started trembling in his hold. "For if…and when…you get tired of having me around. Then I wouldn't have to scramble for a place to stay. Because it's already there prepped and waiting for me."

Your words completely stole the air from his lungs, quite possibly even stopped his heart. Tired of you? You did this because you were bracing yourself for the day he would tire of you?

"It happened before," you spoke again, choking the words out as you visibly fought against what he had no doubt were haunting memories from relationships past. "Long before, but still…it sucked. Not having anywhere to stay for a few hours, calling friends who suddenly pretended I was nobody to them because they took my ex's side. Calling hotels that were fully booked. I just wanted to be sure."

Suddenly your actions around his home filled him with a heartbreaking clarity. It wasn't just your clothes.

Not a single item on the bathroom counter was yours. You even kept your toothbrush in a little bag. 

The meticulous way you'd place back every item in his study and pack away all your work in your tote before putting it in the entry way closet with your suitcase. He simply thought you were being tidy.

But it wasn't that simple.

Other than your very presence in his arms now, there wasn't a single trace of you to be found in this house. Everything you had here wasn't just easy to pack up in five minutes to have you out the door.

You wouldn't even need five seconds.

He couldn't think of what else to do at that moment other than pull you into a desperate kiss, weaving his fingers into your hair and holding you tight against him with his free arm. The tension that held on to his heart with a vice grip lessened somewhat when he felt your lips moving with his, your own hands grasping at the fabric of his shirt to bring him in even closer.

How could you not know that this was precisely where he wanted you? Always?

"I could never tire of you, goddess," he sighed against your lips when he broke the kiss. "I love you."

"I love you, too," you answered him with the faintest sniffle. "I need you to know that none of this is on you. You did nothing to make me feel this was what I should do, this is just…leftover self preservation. I don't know how to be any other way."

Tom took your hands in his, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "Perhaps we can find a new way together," he proposed, placing one last kiss on your ring finger. The one he wished to place a ring upon one day.

It didn't matter when.

He motioned towards the bedroom, threading his fingers between yours to lead the way. "Come with me. I want to show you something."

There was a slight guilt that pinched away at his heart, realizing that you never even so much as peeked into the closet or the dressers. Because if you had, you would have seen it sooner.

You would have seen that he'd set aside half the dresser storage, and half the closet.

He was so overtaken with the joy of finally having you with him, he failed to see the signs that you hadn't been moving as if you lived with him. You moved like a scrupulously careful guest in his home, making sure everything was exactly as it was before you arrived.

Always ready to leave at a drop of a hat.

When the light turned on in the walk-in closet, Tom could hear the air leave your lungs the moment you that half of the racks were empty. He held your hand as he opened the drawers on the empty side, showing you that they, too, had nothing inside.

"You're not a guest in my home, Y/N. I--I know that it might be too early for us, but I want more than anything for you to see this as our home. I can understand if you're not quite ready yet, but I want you to know that there's space here for you. I don't want you to have to throw away money for a hotel room that isn't even slept in."

"Money isn't an issue," you mumbled, your eyes still fixed on the space he'd freed up for you. When you eventually tore your gaze away, he could see the tears that were welling up. "It's just…I've taken care of myself for so long. It's all I know. No one I was with ever cared--"

"I care, sweetheart." He pulled you into his arms, sighing into your hair when he felt you return his embrace. "And I understand you wish to take care of yourself, but perhaps I could care for you, too?"

Your only response was to nuzzle your face against his chest, before nodding against him. "Maybe we can take care of each other."

He kissed the top of your head, leading you out the closet and reaching for his phone, already placing a call to his assistant. "I'll send for someone to retrieve your belongings from the Four Seasons and settle the bill. You don't have to unpack everything if you're not ready, but at least they'll all be here. And I know you mentioned that money isn't an issue for you, but it doesn't sit right with me knowing you're spending so much on an unused room."

A soft smile finally graced your features, and you visibly looked more relaxed as you agreed to his proposal. "Fine. But next time we stay at a hotel I'm paying."

"It's a date," he said, bringing your joint hands up to kiss the back of your hand.

A tiny smile tugged at the corner of your mouth as you sat on the floor of the closet, your carry-on splayed open beside you as you carefully placed your clothes in the open drawers that Tom freed up for you. Our home, his words replayed in your mind. The mere thought threatened to overwhelm you.

He really is trying to ruin me for everyone else but him, you thought to yourself, your mind wandering back to that note you buried deep in the vaults of your phone. You were seldom one to let your guard down anywhere other than your home, where every security measure had triple the redundancies just to make sure that vulnerabilities were minimized, if not eradicated completely.

In your line of work, the one starkly outside the path that brought you to the man you love, it wasn't just a "nice to have" to have multiple measures of security. The alternative was to be in a constant state of alertness. To always be ready to fight your way out.

You never knew there could be another way. A way where there were no backups, or backups for your backups. A way that no longer involved having a place ready for you in case you got kicked to the curb because your boyfriend decided to finally take up the offer of the office succubus.

Before you knew it, the carry-on was empty, other than your run of the mill weapons of choice for self-defense. But you decided against placing that anywhere within reach, instead zipping the compartment closed before closing and locking the luggage.

There was no need for it here.

The door to the closet opened, the sight of your boyfriend walking in wearing only a pair of grey sweatpants making you smile and bite your lip. "Well hey there," you greeted him, placing your hand in his and letting out a little giggle when he helped you to your feet before pulling you into a kiss.

"Just need a few more pieces to put in the wash, darling," he murmured against your lips. "Four, to be exact."

He worked his hands under your shirt and pulled it over your head, proceeding to work his way under the waistband of your joggers.

"Three…" You held on to his shoulders to keep upright, a teasing smirk on his face as he hooked his fingers underneath your panties. "Two…" In one smooth motion, he tugged them downwards, both garments falling to your feet, your boyfriend letting out a sinful guttural sound when you were bared to him.

Then your feet left the ground, him lifting you by the backs of your thighs and coaxing you to wrap your legs around him as he brought you back into the bedroom. He laid you down on the bed, lustful darkened blue eyes raking over your body before he reached for the waistband of his own sweats.

"One…"

A/N: Where can I order one of these cinnamon roll Tomathy-shaped boyfriends? Asking for myself--

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie

@superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist @alexakeyloveloki @lulubelle814

[gremlinshatephilosophers]

Finally talking about the dream I had about Dan and Phil before tour started (I am aware it sounds insane which is why I haven't told this for months):

In fan photos from the European leg of the tour, Dan's knuckles were constantly bloody. He never mentioned it or anything, but it was long enough that it wasn't just a one-off thing. The phandom decided this was the one time for not speculating and having boundaries, and remarkably said nothing. The vibe was very much "eh, his hands got fucked up and we're focused on the tour content." The mainstream news, though, was OBSESSED. Like, CNN was regularly running stories asking why Dan's hands were always bloody, trying to get the inside info on these touring youtubers.

I was a reporter at the time, and I was assigned to follow Dan and Phil and figure out what was up. Which at first was sort of fine, then I felt really shitty about it because I was basically spying on them and getting weird paparazzi shots. And it was clear that my job required me to be spying on them and basically harassing them. The media (including me) were so invasive that they had to cancel the tour bus in america, and decided to do the entire tour by boat (how they were going to reach cities that didn't have a coast or river idk). But on the phyacht, no one could follow them the way they could with a bus.

Except for me, because I snuck onto the fucking boat.

Then I see Dan, crawling up the stairs from the inside of the boat to the deck on his hands and knees, knuckles down on the metal stairs. He does this every single time and refuses to walk up the stairs normally, and clearly this is why his hands are always bloody. Great news for my job, except it's the worst answer to know because Dan doing this constantly and not telling anyone means he's either having a mental break or it's a really weird kink, neither of which I want to be publicly reported on.

Of course, it's not that big of a boat and Dan and Phil find out I've stowed away on it and they're fucking pissed, which is understandable. I try from then on to leave them the fuck alone, I keep my distance on the boat now that I have an answer. (They also can't kick me off the boat, because of some obscure journalism law?)

So I keep following them into every venue, and they look like they want to murder me 24/7, meanwhile I'm scoping out the back of the theaters to check for other photographers because I don't want someone else to find out and write something worse than whatever I'll inevitably have to report. One time I see there's a room full of people they don't know about and I try to whisper at them to go the other way, but they don't listen and do it anyway. And I'm just there like ugh, please just listen to me, I swear I'm trying to help you.

And I'm stalling and stalling trying to give them time to fix it or say something and not have to leak this info, because clearly they don't want this to be public and it's going to be mega-viral the moment I say something.

Anyway, the dream sort of faded out there but for whatever fucking reason this is what my subconscious generated.

[cha-melodius]

30 for zahra/shaan for the hug prompts if it sparks joy <3

(Thank you for sending this one, I've never really written Zahra/Shaan from either of their POVs and it was a lot of fun. Not to mention this hug prompt was perfect for them. read all the hug ficlets)

30: The reluctant hug from someone who isn’t exactly a fan of physical affection. 

The first time they see each other in person after the email leaks is when Henry goes to DC for Alex’s speech.

Usually, in a situation like this where they’re only interacting for work, neither of them would even think about letting any part of their relationship slip through. All the looks, all the touches, even a hint of personal conversation—that stuff is only let out when they’re off the clock. They’ve crammed a lot into two-day holidays over the last half a year, and even with what little pieces they get of each other, it’s worth it.

Today is different, though. He can see the toll that the leaks and their aftermath have taken on Zahra. Not just because of the political impact, though of course that is her job to deal with, but the personal one too. Zahra cares deeply about Alex, more than she’d ever admit to anyone. Shaan can tell, though. Could tell when he first heard the minute hitch in her breath over the telephone line. She feels responsible, just as he does. They couldn’t protect their charges, no matter how hard they tried.

Now, she’s running around as usual, barely sparing him a glance as she barks out schedules and timing. They’ve landed no more than a half an hour before Alex is due to speak, and it’s a mad rush, even when Alex and Henry disappear for ten minutes, no doubt to do things Shaan would rather not think about. It’s not until later that evening—they’re staying overnight, something he’d quietly insisted upon when they’d made these plans—that Shaan manages to actually catch her.

“Did you need something?” she asks brusquely. He knows better than to take it personally.

“Yes,” he tells her, equally business-like. “Can I speak with you privately for a moment?”

Her eyes flash like she knows what he’s up to. She probably does. Normally, he’d never attempt to request a private moment, even now when most of the White House has retired for the night, but there’s nothing about this situation that’s normal. For a moment he thinks she’s going to refuse, but then she gives a short nod and leads him through a random doorway.

“Ok, Srivastava, what is it? I don’t really have time—” she starts immediately, which is a lie because he personally heard Ellen Claremont say she didn’t need anything else from Zahra tonight.

“Zahra,” he interrupts softly, putting hand over one of hers.

She doesn’t pull away, which is a good sign. Or maybe a bad one. When she looks up at him, the conflict is plain on her face. “We can’t—” she starts. Stops and licks her lips, her lipstick still flawless this late at night. “Not here.”

“I know,” he reassures her. “I’m not asking for much. Just a hug.” She narrows her eyes at him, and Shaan lets his expression soften. “You’d be doing me a favor.”

Even in the moments when they can truly be alone together, Zahra isn’t much of a hugger. She won’t even initiate one on those rare occasions where she wants to be held, so Shaan has learned to detect such circumstances and then ask for one for himself. She always gives a little huff, like it’s a chore, though if she didn’t want to she’d just tell him no and walk away. Then she will reluctantly let herself be drawn into his arms, and only when her face is hidden against his neck will she allow her shoulders to relax. She’ll take a deep breath, her arms tightening around his waist, and he’ll hold her for however long she allows.

Today, Zahra needs a hug, and Shaan will do whatever he must to give it to her. It helps that it’s not a lie—Shaan really could use a hug himself, after everything.

He has to keep himself from smiling when she rolls her eyes and lets out her usual huff. The rest follows as he’s become accustomed to, though she holds him tighter and longer than he was expecting. Then she shocks him by murmuring, “I love you,” into the collar of his shirt. “Thank fuck you’re here.”

“I’m here, my love,” he breathes as he smooths a hand over her hair. “I’m here.”

[cupidarchived]

Perfect 10 Liners Episode 13

I haven’t commented much on this show because others tend to put what I’m saying or thinking into words better than I can more often than not. But this episode was truly something. The whole cast delivered incredible performances. But special mentions because Santa is always excellent (As a Santa lover, it definitely still counts!) but this episode specifically, I felt like he punched a hole straight through my chest. Perth is also always excellent, and his anger, his remorse, his desperation as Yotha dropped my heart into my stomach, and then Junior, took and tied my stomach into knots.

Gun loves Yotha. He loves him. He loves him so much that it hurts. And Faifa sees it. How could Yotha not? I think the fact that Yotha doesn’t realize that Gun saw him kiss Wa is a vital missing piece. He thinks that Gun is only upset because of the ambush, that he’s scared of the danger Yotha puts himself (and now others) in. He told Gun to take responsibility for his feelings once he learns how to love again and then he kissed him. He yells at Gun, shuts him out and then kisses him to make up for it. He flirts with him, makes him feel special, and yet there are some parts of him that he won’t allow Gun to see or get close to. And then he kisses Wa and Gun sees. And from what Gun knows, this is the reason Yotha won’t let him get too close, this is part of the reason Yotha puts himself in danger, this is part of the reason he’s at this bar every night. These are some of the wounds he can’t tend to. They have matching tattoos, for goodness sake! Yotha was in his bed making out with him that morning and by the night he was kissing the ex that he has matching tattoos with. Gun is hurt, scared and rightfully confused. The need to create distance is understandable.

But Yotha doesn’t want that. In his mind, that kiss was proving to himself and to Wa that he no longer has feelings for him. And although he may not be ready for a relationship just yet, he’s making progress, whether he believes it or not. But he doesn’t know that Gun saw. He thinks he scared Gun because of the violence and that’s why everyone is keeping Gun away from him. It’s what he tells Arm when he asks for help. His desperation to get Gun back was displayed so incredibly. When he asks Faifa, “Did you ask me if I wanted anyone else to take care of Gun?” Wow, wow, wow. He borderline begs Gun to come back to their room with him, twice. And the disappointment in his eyes when Gun refuses, was painful. He’s resigned to it, and he doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable. But he goes back to their room and he’s imagining his sunshine next to him and he can’t accept it. “I won’t let you go anywhere.” Well tell him while he’s awake, Yotha.

Faifa, sweet boy. I have no words. I just adore him very much. It couldn’t have been easy going against his brother to protect his friend. But he does. He knows Yotha and he loves him dearly, which is why he knows he has to protect Gun. His dear friend, who loves similarly to the way he, himself, does. Faifa gives so much of himself to everyone. He loves so fiercely and dearly. He goes up to bat for Gun against his own brother. He sees how much Gun loves him and it surprises him. I think it also shocked Faifa when Gun told him what he saw because Faifa sees the changes in his brother, he knows that Yotha has feelings for Gun. Which is why he lets him crawl into Gun’s bed that night and he turns the other way, although disgusted as any sibling would be (LOL, Junior you are a gem.). But in the daytime, he’s back to protecting his friend (I love Gun’s friend group so much).

Arm made a great point, Do you want your roommate back or do you want Gun back, specifically? Because they are two very different things. Arm is a great friend and a sweet peer mentor. And although they both tricked Gun into this trip, he does genuinely want the best for them both.

Yotha and Gun both have a lot of talking to do and things they need to figure out. And hope those things actually get addressed and not pushed to the side being that we’re already nearing the end of their storyline.

I don’t know where I was going with this y’all but this episode just ruined me. It tugged on my heartstrings, my body physically reacted to this episode. My emotions are all over the place. I’ll come back if I think of anything else.

[sammyluvr]

✶ honey — jennifer jareau

cw : gn!bau!reader, fluff, alcohol consumption/mentions, unedited, 860 words. requested ! for my 900 followers event [ closed ] .

prompt : a balcony in someone else’s mansion + “honey–” “why do you keep calling me that?” “i– do you want me to stop?” “…no.”

“where’s jj?” you call to whoever might hear you first, leaning against the doorframe that leads into rossi’s vast backyard. the whole team is milling about, various glasses of alcohol in each hand. your own red wine nearly spills a bit when you lightly trip over the ledge on the floor. you meet eyes with hotch after steadying yourself and give him a sheepish grin. he returns a contained, but affectionate smile. he must’ve seen your little misstep.

“she went up to the balcony,” he tells you, nodding his chin up towards the second floor. the small smile on his face has turned knowing.

“thanks,” you murmur, understanding the look on his face and feeling your cheeks warm because of it. then you duck your head and turn back into the house to go find her. you’re not looking for her for any particular reason other than the fact that you like to be with her whenever you get the chance. you also want to be sure that she’s alright, and that she’s just taking some time away from the bustle in the backyard rather than hiding away.

it turns out to be a bit of both. she’s just tired, is all. you can see it in the way she leans against the banister and the soft droop to her eyelids. but she’s also relaxed, glad to be here with friends. the wine glass in her hand boasts the deep red as yours.

“hey,” you murmur, coming to stand next to her and look out at the scene below you, just as she’s doing. spencer talks animatedly to emily, who listens with a fond smile. hotch has settled on a lawn chair near penelope, who has wrapped him into her conversation with morgan. rossi has disappeared for the moment, along with the charcuterie board, so you can assume he’s gone to refill it. these are the best sort of nights for this team, and as a bonus, you’re graced with being alone with one gorgeous jennifer jareau.

jj turns to look at you instead, for a moment, “hi,” she smiles. the tone of her voice confirms what you already knew; tired, but relaxed. the sort of tired where you can imagine sitting with her on one of those plush couches downstairs and she falls asleep on your shoulder. she did that once, on the plane ride back home from a case. you thought the beating of your heart might wake her, but instead she slept there for nearly a whole hour before moving unconsciously again. you think about it a lot.

you’re about to say something about the wine; how it took you a long time to recognize a good bottle. this one is good, of course. it’s rossi’s. “y’know, honey–,” the pet name slips out, like it often does around her. it’s been consistently brushed off by your affinity for sweet names. you say things like thank you, love, to random strangers who open the door, or no, that’s okay, sweetheart, to team members offering you coffee after you’ve had enough.

but you only call jj honey, and that’s why she interrupts you, “why do you keep calling me that?”

you startle, not expecting the direct question. it’s inevitable that it would be noticed; your habit of calling her that is the easiest sort of thing for a bunch of profilers to pick up on. and you sort of want to answer by telling her it’s because she’s sweet, like honey, but you don’t. “i– do you want me to stop?” you ask instead.

there’s a moment of soft quiet before she decides, “no. i don’t want you to stop.” she’s looking right at you now, meeting your eyes with this sort of clarity that makes your heart leap. you follow it by taking your own leap of faith.

“and… would you want me to stop if i kissed you right now?” you say, voice lowering just a touch as you hold her eye contact.

she has to hold back from grinning and rolling her eyes a bit. “anyone could look up and see us,” she points out, her voice softening to match yours. she does sound genuinely cautious though. kissing her would certainly be against the rules. but over the years, you’ve both learned to bend them.

either way, you respect her concern, even if everyone else would be able to tell without much effort if things between you two really changed. the tension is already easy to pick up on for them, but a kiss or more might become very easily obvious without avoidance of the subject and excellent acting.

“well, then,” you smile softly, “would you want me to stop if i kissed you not right now, but when we get into the hallway? or the bathroom, away from prying eyes?” there’s no perfect solution while you’re here; someone could come looking for you, or someone could see you leaving the bathroom together. but that reframing of your question is enough for her.

she smiles back, looking radiant. she’s like the damn sun to you, but much prettier. “no. i wouldn’t want you to stop, honey.”

[vechter]

tagged by @havendance & @mintchocochipsposts tysm <3

if you have a to be read list/pile (comics, books, whatever):

what title(s) are you currently reading?

reading kitchen by banana yoshimoto & what went wrong with capitalism by ruchir sharma

also currently rereading the raven cycle & the dreamer trilogy because the gc made me feel sick about it... your 20s are truly all about regression

as for comics, i just started green lantern (1990) for kyle & i'm one issue into justice league: cry for justice (2009)

also rereading justice league of america (2006) for one of my fics which i'm halfway through but i gotta lock in

what title(s) are up next on your reading list?

tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow by gabrielle zevin

as i lay dying by william faulkner

impulse (1995) is hopefully the next comic i will read unless the Vibes take me somewhere else

want to go back and read helena's appearances in NML because i didn't know her like that when i first read it

what title(s) are your emotional support TBRs and you’re planning to get around to them. One day. When the stars align?

lmaoooo. i really, really need to get back to rebecca by daphne du maurier which i've been reading for like a whole year at this point. idk what it is because whenever i read it, i do enjoy it quite a bit and i'm a sucker for gothic hauntings... but it's just not happening for me :(

as for comics, any superman comic. i like clark & lois so much but i've only read their stuff in team situations/trinity stuff or batman/superman comics. i read action comics (1938) #1 this month tho so maybe there's hope for me, yet

also, i end up missing annuals for comics unless they're explicitly mentioned so i do need to go back through some of my already read comics and see if i've read the annuals for them

have you taken anything out of your TBR pile recently, and why?

is this a thing that happens bc it's never happened for me 😭 i do end up tabling stuff but it never leaves that mental space where i'm like i have got to read this one day

also, my TBR pile is scattered over my notes app, my safari tabs, my messages to myself, my drafts and like 20 other places so it's really just Vibes for what i end up reading

tagging @2mad4plaid @boiwcndr @boudicca @fromstarstuff @malinaa and anyone else who wants to do it!!!

[bitchnojutsu]

okay HI i came back to this!! amazing work chandu i will be rereading this forever and ever and consulting it moving forward. you’re so right and should keep saying it; these are the things that stand out to me that i would love to scream about together:

- tenten def notices other people’s looks but is overall more drawn by what she thinks is cool about them. there’s another post about tenten’s style and characterization that i really like which emphasizes tenten’s lack of overt femininity, and i think tenten wants to be recognized - more than for her appearance; maybe more than anything, at some point, to a degree - as cool herself. tenten doesn’t want or have a ton of power (even socially, i’d argue), but she positions herself in the sphere of it. her icon is a “legendary kunoichi” and the fifth hokage. she bemoans her sensei and teammate frequently for being cringe in her vicinity. the one thing she can do that is really cool - carry any size or quantity of anything, anywhere - gets completely dismissed as “convenient” by lee and neji during their chunin exams in suna, and we saw how that affected tenten’s morale.

- on that point, hell, her entire friendship with neji: her bestie is a bully victim neglected child prodigy from a prominent and revered clan, set up in the first chunin exams as The Kid To Beat, and just like you pointed out, tenten was right at his side for that entire month between prelims and finals. also, i want to emphasize what you said about tenten being the mouthpiece during the finals: her whole interlude where she’s giving exposition to the viewers like us bragging on neji’s abilities? tenten isn’t speaking out loud to anyone. she’s just smirking to herself and staring down at the arena, thinking about how neji is so talented and so well prepared and so strong and so cool.

- re: tenten being one of those people you find yourself accidentally saying too much to. that has to be how her actual friendship with neji started tbh. and i think it was clan related, hence why we got tenten’s close up reaction among hiashi’s and hiruzen’s when neji started his lore dump. like you suggested, she already knew.

- tenten’s friendships with her teammates are notably different but consistent. like i think neji is her best friend and rock lee is her brother. (i’m getting a little ahead of myself, but tenten’s relationship to her teammates is what sakura’s would look like with her teammates if we removed sakura’s crush on sasuke and naruto’s crush on sakura)

- the databook stats have zero consistency but is anyone surprised lmao

- TENTEN DOES DID NOT LIKE HINATA. (we’re veering into headcanon territory, but especially after *certain events* toward the end of shippuden, regardless of everything else, y’all think tenten likes hinata now??)

- for reasons you already explained i also think tenten has complicated feelings about sakura. i’ve mentioned in a few of my own posts that i see team 7 and team gai as foils for each other, pairing tenten and sakura in that manner, which is giving me even more thoughts in this context. obviously they get along well enough, they seem to respect each other, but i’m considering tenten’s self esteem and mental health and her saying she wants to fight sakura and the goals she physically would never be able to accomplish while she had to sit back and watch sakura literally live out her dream…

- …which opens the door for a friendship between tenten and ino. hello, busybodies!

- while i’m talking about tenten and every other kunoichi, let’s go ahead and focus on temari. she handed tenten’s ass to her on a silver platter, publicly, without batting an eye, all while tenten was still confused because she uncharacteristically missed her mark. her disbelief is valid as explained, and the point of the fight was to poise temari as a serious competitor for the final round, but i’m also going to gripe at kishimoto here - tenten got done so dirty in this fight. if he wanted tenten’s error to be that she missed her mark, temari could have created a shadow clone for tenten to waste her time attacking, thus allowing tenten to show off her incredible skill while forcing her to “miss” her true mark and opening her up to an attack, and planting the idea to use a shadow clone in temari’s head for later purposes.

- you touched on tenten not liking people she perceives as weak, and how could tenten not perceive herself as weak after that quick defeat? in front of everyone? after waiting an extra year before signing up for the exams? the only member of her team to not break to the finals? and she missed her mark?! that’s a core memory. that’s ego-shattering, soul-crushing, reality-questioning, life-changing shit.

- the idea of a lowkey one-sided rivalry between tenten and temari a la lee and neji is so funny to me, and also plausible given how much of an impact losing that fight had on tenten. (though the exact same is true for sakura and i think tenten would be ready to fight both of them anytime)

- i love your point about tenten applying her enthusiasm for research to her weaponry because of course she would! she’s a one-woman museum and proud of it! there are easter eggs of this in reliance, but i like to imagine that she falls down all kinds of research rabbit holes; she may not be a med nin but she learns everything she can about the human body, we see her consult kurenai while in her ultimate tsukuyomi world for advice about genjutsu and i believe she kept studying that back in The Real World™️, she has to know a thing or two about space-time jutsu by nature of the transportation jutsu itself. but we also know that in the naruto world, “research” sometimes is a double entendre! a woman of many hobbies, truly

- you said the right string of words to trigger my activation phrase so now you get to hear me talk about one of my favorite venn diagrams in all of naruto: the overlap between tenten and shikamaru. she wants to be recognized so badly and works hard for it, he works hard not to be recognized so he doesn’t have to do hard work. / i would not be surprised if during that month between exam prelims and finals, shikamaru was constantly replaying and assessing tenten’s performance against temari in his mind, or if he straight up hunted down tenten (and neji by proxy) one day to ask about a few logistics and called his training done. / loud, strong women (like tsunade and temari) grate on young shikamaru while they’re everything tenten would want to be if she actually believed she could be like them. / re: tenten has chill vibes and can get people to open up. i think shikamaru opens up to tenten on purpose sometimes. perhaps on that one random mission they went on together; sometime approaching the war when naruto and yamato and gai etc. were on a boat for a long time and needed a supply drop (tenten’s mission), shikaku saw that shikamaru needed to take a step back from war prep and nominated him to accompany tenten. ironically enough for the both of them (considering shikamaru’s woes during the sasuke retrieval arc, the trap team gai encountered in the desert in their second exams, and the end of the upcoming war, unbeknownst to shikamaru and tenten at this time), the trap they fell into was a series of genjutsu creating perilous conditions for the boat. i think in the adult generation - excluding sasuke’s sharingan and the knack for genjutsu that sakura should have had - tenten and shikamaru are among the best equipped shinobi to encounter genjutsu.

i made your long post longer but i hope it was worth it <3

Just noting down some things about Tenten that influence my view of her characterization/personality. primarily for my own reference as i’m writing, as well as to kind of get a more mature and consistent characterization of her than i had before. this gonna be an extremely long and rambling post, (where I think I repeat myself a whole lot oops) and there’s not really anything profound, just some traits i’m pulling from canon and interpreting.

most of Tenten’s ’canon’ characterization comes from filler and databooks, which I then further interpret, so a lot of her characterization in this post is three degrees of fanon/headcanon, with some liberties taken where I dislike the interpretation.

We’re introduced to Tenten during the chunin exams, where she’s seen throwing kunai at a target dummy that Neji is sitting under. She casually throws her kunai and hits the target dead center, instantly showing her marksmanship skill, but also Neji’s implicit trust in her since he doesn’t even flinch and the target is pretty much right over his head. This ties in later but basically, he fully trusts that she will not miss.

We see Tenten again before the first round of the chunin exams, while Izumo and Kotetsu are blocking the door. The thing I find notable in that scene is Tenten not being immune to Sasuke LOL.

(Manga panel grabbed from @tentenarchive)

it's interesting to me that her thing is specifically that there's not a single scratch on him, and that he's "cool". Makes sense given that she's on a team with Gai and Lee and she desperately wants them to be cool too. And she dislikes weak people so yeah, of course it's cool to her that he's untouchable.

Actually on this topic, Tenten's taste seems to be "cool people"? In a filler episode (naruto 162) she thinks that the lord of a local land is really cute when she sees him get down for his palanquin. The lord's whole thing is that he's like cold and cool and pensive etc. so this seems to be Tenten's taste to some degree. He turns out to actually be a girl in the end so yknow. bi Tenten confirmed.

Here's her page from the first databook (screenshotted from The Narutoversity). She gets annoyed at Lee injuring himself for Sakura's sake, which I'm pretty sure isn't really out of care so much as it is that they're in the middle of the forest of death in like. the worst situation possible. Love how Ino's just standing there like "what the fuck kind of medical care is this".

I generally dislike the stats since I find that they’re inaccurate to what we see on-panel (a whole rant I could go on another time tbh), and Kishimoto tends to skew them egregiously in favor of characters he particularly likes. Ex: genin era Neji’s total is 21, and shippuden Tenten’s is 20.5. You cannot seriously be telling me that Neji as a genin is stronger than chunin Tenten three years in the future. Come on Kishimoto. There are a few things of note here though, so let’s go through them anyway.

Tenten’s highest stat is her speed, at 3, which is the same as Sasuke from the same databook. So clearly, she’s fast, especially since Sasuke is known for his speed. She's not as fast as Lee, but still quick on her feet and dexterous, with fast reflexes. Makes sense, since the second databook describes her fighting style as “dancing flexibly and firing speedily”.

Her strength is a 1 and her stamina is a 1.5, which is insane to me. Like she’s on Team Gai???? They do 500 laps around Konoha and 1000+ pushups every day???? I reject canon here, fuck u kishi, I know she’s actually buff as hell and has hella stamina.

Her intelligence is a 2, which might seem super low but it matches Sasuke's intelligence, and is only 0.5 lower than Neji and Temari's. I think it just goes to show that the scale for these stats is skewed as hell. But basically what this means is that she operates at a similar level to Sasuke, Temari, and Neji, where she picks up on the things around her, and while she isn't operating on the level of Shikamaru, she's still a good strategist.

Back to the actual show, we get to the elimination round and her fight against Temari (episode 43). I’m basing this part off the anime because their fight in the manga is like three panels long.

So technically, this is “filler” (as if any tenten fan really cares lol).

From the Hokage's commentary, her battle sense is pretty good. She positions herself a perfect distance away from the enemy. She's trying to bait Temari into attacking, to see what her power is and figure out how to counter it, and Temari calls her out on it.

Tenten isn't a 200 IQ genius strategist the way Shikamaru is, but she is still a smart fighter. We can see she thinks in a similar way to him (and Temari) feeling out the enemy's power and what they can do before counterattacking strategically. I need them to be best friends tbh.

Her first reaction when she throws her shuriken at Temari and misses is surprise. She is deeply confident in her own abilities, so it's genuinely shocking to her. She yells "I missed? There's no way!" and in the stands, Gai also insists up and down that Tenten never misses.

She has the utmost confidence in herself, and from the rest of her team. None of them have any doubt in her, and this also ties back to that introductory scene. No wonder Neji let her chuck kunai at targets near him. It's probably something she does regularly too.

Tenten loses to Temari, and is immediately down on herself. We see a lot of this in Shippuden 237, where she's lying in the hospital and loses all her confidence in herself and her abilities.

Shippuden 237 shows us that Tenten does actually have self-esteem issues, even before this fight with Temari. During their first year as genin, when Lee keeps getting defeated by Neji, Tenten tells Lee that he really should just give up on beating Neji, because he's a genius, and Lee is not. It's clear in the voice acting and the expressions that to some extent, Tenten isn't just speaking about Lee when she says this, she's also speaking about herself.

She seems to compare herself a lot to others, often in a negative light, talking down about herself when others are better than her, but still trying her best to surpass them.

But the way she talks after losing to Temari is much worse. Her match with Temari affects her deeply, and likely for many years to come. I think it becomes one of her primary motivations to become stronger, as she keeps holding that moment as her lowest point and vowing to never be that helpless against an opponent again.

Headcanons here. After her fight with Temari, Tenten also throws herself into learning 1) fire jutsu to combat Temari’s wind (this is why she develops that dragon bomb jutsu she uses during the Konoha Crush filler episode), and 2) seals that can absorb/store away opponents’ attacks.

I think Tenten’s primary chakra nature is actually lightning, which is also why she is so weak to wind chakra. I love this post by @/fineillsignup that goes into detail about chakra natures, and a lot of the traits listed under lightning nature fit with my interpretations of Tenten. I also am heavily biased toward the idea of Kakashi, who is basically student-less during the interlude period, teaching Tenten lightning jutsu since she's his husband's friend's student.

Going back to that scene in shippuden 237, I do think her talking down to Lee in their first year as genin is also interesting. Even though I love the idea of Lee and Tenten being besties before Team Gai and her standing up for him, I think the reality is that she probably didn’t really talk to him in the Academy, and once they were on the same team, she was kind to him, and learned to work with him.

Lee very specifically mentions in a flashback in episode 100 that nobody told him anything encouraging, sensei or student. This obviously includes Tenten. So while she wasn’t outright mean to him, she also didn’t have the greatest opinion of him.

She very quickly found herself relating with him, and that probably made her take out some of her own self-loathing on him at first. Eventually they become close, and form a very deep friendship, but things start out pretty rocky.

Kishimoto confirms that every day for a month between the second and final rounds of the chunin exams, Neji and Tenten train together in secret to help him reverse-engineer the 8 trigrams 64 palms and the rotation. It’s interesting that everyone else goes to train with a jounin and only Neji chooses to train with his teammate.

I think this implies Tenten to be a good secret keeper and evidence that Neji already told her about the cursed seal and all the clan drama. During Neji’s speech to Naruto, Tenten’s reaction is shown alongside Hiruzen and Hiashi’s, both of whom already know all about the curse mark and his father’s death. So Neji has told Tenten as well.

Plus Tenten is uniquely suited to help with Rotation, since she can throw a billion knives no jutsu.

During Naruto vs Neji, Tenten gets used as the mouthpiece to explain Neji's attacks, which also shows how well she knows him after training with him for the Chunin exams, but she's also genuinely impressed when Naruto wins, and even compliments him.

There's a brief scene during Shikamaru v Temari where Tenten comments about how she couldn't beat Temari. Also look at her arms. A 1 for her strength stat??? with those arms??? sure kishi.

Okay, we move on to when Orochimaru attacks Konoha, and there’s this filler episode (shippuden 192) where Hinata gets kidnapped by Kumo shinobi. This episode has some small Tenten moments, where you can also see how Neji thinks of her, and I like them a lot.

We start off with Tenten going to check in on Neji after his conversation with Hiashi, and he actually opens up and tells her all about what they had just spoken about, another sign that he's told her about everything with his clan.

When Hinata is kidnapped and the Hyuuga Elder makes Neji go get her, Tenten comes with him, not out of any particular concern for Hinata, but purely to back up Neji. I doubt she likes Hinata much at first (my eyes were opened after this post by @tentenismybitch), so she’s doing this more for Neji’s sake.

As they're chasing after the man who kidnapped Hinata, they get caught in a trap, and Tenten tells Neji to leave her behind (strategic thinking) and Neji only hesitates for a second before agreeing and going on ahead. Neji expresses that this is because he knows Tenten can handle herself.

We see her using a new jutsu (the Dragon Bomb), which as I mentioned before, I think she developed with Temari in mind.

During the Hokage’s funeral we do see her in funeral attire looking sad but is she really? debatable. I think no, but it’s not entirely relevant. This is all personal headcanon here, not based on canon evidence beyond extrapolating from what I’ve seen.

Tenten doesn't strike me as someone burning with loyalty to the village and harping on about the “will of fire” and whatnot. She does her duty, and that’s about it. It doesn’t go further than that. She cares about the people dear to her, but not really about the village specifically.

After the Hokage’s funeral, Tenten doesn’t appear again until the end of the Search For Tsunade arc, which I think is her last non-filler appearance in the original series other than a few flashbacks.

She’s excited about Tsunade coming to the village, and tells Neji after he trains, and asks him to come with her to go see Tsunade. Neji tells her he’s not interested, and Tenten looks a little disappointed.

We see Tenten in some flashbacks to Lee's genin years (episode 100). As Neji is talking down to Lee, Tenten doesn't really say anything, which matches with what i said earlier. But, when Gai tells them that with hard work, anyone can be a shinobi, Tenten has a similar reaction to Lee, while Neji just looks annoyed.

What Gai says seems to give her hope. That with enough hard work, anyone can become great. She doesn't think of herself as a genius, and if anything, seems to group herself with Lee in terms of ability. This is also shown in Shippuden 237, which I'll discuss later.

After this we only see Tenten in the end-of-series filler, which will be part 2 of this post since it's already really long. We'll finish off by looking at data book 2, which came out after the manga for the first series had finished.

From the second data book (screenshot also taken from the Narutoversity), we see part of her personality is being a "busybody" LMFAOOOO. So yeah she's inquisitive and curious, being a research enthusiast, but also uses that same nature to get in on everyone's business too. We can assume she's also observant and detail-oriented, can probably read people pretty well.

I like this a lot! I think Tenten is a good people person, and many find her easy to get along with. She’s probably one of those people that you accidentally find yourself telling really important or deep stuff to without really knowing why. She’s just got this air around her that’s very chill and comfortable.

But I do think she’s nosy, and does wanna know about everything, just to be in the know. She’s a little detective LOL.

The research enthusiast part is a fun thing too. She strikes me as a tinkerer, messing with new weapon designs or seal ideas, constantly turning something over in her head.

The first and second databooks list her hobby as fortune-telling, which is also really cute. I think she knows palmistry and does readings for her friends, and has some knowledge of astrology. She isn't overly superstitious, but she does believe in ghosts, and gets fairly nervous when she sees or hears something that can be considered a bad omen.

She has pride in her weapons, clearly, and her arsenal is implied to be the largest and strongest of any ninja. I’d like to assume that some of her pride comes from the weapons in her arsenal that are of her own design.

Her 'carefree, smiling face' is also an interesting point. At first I was unsure how to interpret this, but to me it reads as her being rather laid-back and carefree, despite her power and lethality. Again, not very sure how to interpret this line and I'd love to hear how anyone else sees it!

It’s cute that Tsunade coming to the village and becoming hokage made Tenten train harder. I think aside from her defeat to Temari, this becomes another major motivation for Tenten. She wants to impress Tsunade, the kunoichi that she admires most.

She says she'd like to fight Sakura, so I think there's some kind of jealousy or something to prove there since Sakura got to be Tsunade’s apprentice and Tenten didn't. This goes back to her low self-esteem and those issues she’s been having since her fight with Temari.

Shippuden 237 touches on this but Tenten did actually try to become a medical ninja for a bit, she just didn’t have the chakra control necessary. Obviously this adds to her insecurities when Sakura turns out to be a natural at medical ninjutsu with unnaturally good chakra control.

I’m not a huge fan of the ‘trying to be a mednin’ part of this ngl, I think she’s a little too fixated on weapons to truly care about medical ninjutsu, and wants to emulate Tsunade just for the ‘strongest kunoichi’ part rather than trying to be her exact carbon copy. Plus, I think (headcanon) Tenten’s chakra control has to be at least decently good in order to do seals, but that’s a different rabbit hole. I tend to disregard this in my fics and will likely continue to do so.

I do like the thing of being jealous of Sakura in some way for being Tsunade’s apprentice, though. It’s some nice flavor and I appreciate the one-sided rivalry. I think it would be funny for Sakura to think of Tenten as the cool senpai and look up to her, meanwhile Tenten is struggling to not immediately challenge her to a duel, Gai-style.

Since this is already super long, I’ll do a part 2 for all the filler arcs she’s in, and then a part 3 for shippuden.

[augustifolia]

Kerosene, part 1

Summary: Emiko, the youngest Todoroki child, falls under poor influence due to her father’s ongoing neglect and emotional abuse.

Warnings: strong language, mentions of abuse and neglect, not a lot actually 🤷

"Touya," Emiko tugged at his shirt, stopping him in his tracks down the hall. Her bright turquoise eyes bore into his as she tilted her head. "Please don't be sad."

Emiko spoke those pleading words like a mantra. The constant tension in the household formed a knot in her throat. It caused a brain fog of mustard gas and stole the air from her lungs. She would say or do anything, all just to make the gnawing ache come to an end.

He forced his scowl in another direction, anywhere out of her sight. Touya pulled her off of him and stumbled into the wall.

"Go play or something, " he huffed. "or go bother Yumi. Anything, I don't care. Just leave me alone." He stormed to his room, fighting the tears that nipped at the corners of his eyes.

The five-year-old girl stood at the end of the hall dumbfounded, with a pained expression, and her arms hung to her side in resignation.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The dead summer sun beat down on the children as the sound of cicadas calls filled the air in the distance.

"Why's Dad always so mean to Touya? All he wants is ta' be a hero too." Her unkempt snow-white hair hid her narrowed eyebrows from view as she sat on the dirt patch poking at a cicada shell with a stick.

Fuyumi watched her with a worried expression. She wanted nothing more than to shield the youngest Todoroki from their harsh reality, to give her just a few years of a normal childhood that she and Natsuo had. But she was smarter than that. Fuyumi had already tried feeding her white lies, as well as telling her things were 'normal' or 'going to be alright', but Emiko saw through it.

In the end, she's still young. Whilst she knows these dark truths exist, how they make her feel, it grants no understanding unto what she can do to fix this cruel helyzet she was born into. What could she do? She had no standing within these walls. She was merely at the bottom of the food chain.

"Dad's just.. like that. Y'know? There's nothing we can do." She dismissed. What else could she say? Emiko always had questions beyond what anyone could answer.

She sighed. She could tell by the way Emiko drove the stick into the dirt that she wasn't pleased with her answer. She picked up the brittle shell and held it out in the palm of her hand to her sister.

"You see how the shell's empty? How the cicada crawled out and flew away a long time ago? The shell's kinda like Dad." She explained with hesitation.

Emiko looked up at her sister. Her thumbs danced with one another on the surface of where her shins met.

"But how?"

"Well.." Fuyumi felt the need to backtrack, but she knew that once something had piqued the child's interest she would chase it with persistence. She lowered her voice and continued with caution. "Dad’s missing something inside of him."

She picks up a pebble and attempts to drop it within the casing without success. "So he's looking for things that'll feel like it gave him something he didn't have."

"But- Dad's the number two hero!" Emiko blurts, her elbows stiffening into a narrow path. Her expression was desperate, as if she were telling her father himself her thoughts. "What more could he want?"

Fuyumi had expected anything but for her to take such a great understanding, causing her to stutter back. She puts her hands up in a silencing manner. "Hey, hey, not so loud, alright?"

She slumps down but nods.

Fuyumi reluctantly continued. "Dad’s wants more. So, he- uhm.." her gaze averted as if looking into an invisible dictionary. "Well.. he had kids. Us. And some of us,"

"Like Touya and Shoto?"

"Like Touya and Shoto," she acknowledges, "he trains to become strong heroes. Ones even stronger than him."

Emiko pouts. "Then why did Dad say Touya couldn't be a hero anymore? He's sad. No.. he's mad. Really mad."

"well.. Touya's quirk hurts him, you know? It's not safe."

She looks back to the dirt. "I guess.."

Fuyumi puts on a smile and pats Emiko's matted, unkempt hair. "There you go. Let's go wash up for dinner, alright?"

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

A thousand footsteps rang through the train station. The monotone voice of a woman named off the departing and approaching transits, while Emiko zones out on the ground below two men sharing a pack of cigarettes.

She'd wanted to take the day off to grieve, begged even. Father had told her that it was almost a decade ago, and she needed to get over it. "Hell week," she called it. Seven consecutive days at the age of four where her world began to crumble.

She steps onto the train, herded like animals bunched together with the rest of those getting off of school or work. She grabbed a handle overhead, burying her face deep in her outstretched arm. Her throat burned more than anything. She woke up early, sat through 8 hours of school, though she skipped her after-school training course. She had an hour-- no, less -- before she got home. All she had to do was hold it in just a little longer. Just a little longer...

The house was empty. Natsuo had completely moved out last week, into an apartment not too far. It was far enough though. Far enough that he no longer had to endure the strain in the household. Fuyumi had convinced him to leave, believe it or not. She was out late grading papers, or maybe it was a cover for staying out longer. But thats not Emiko's sister. She puts everyone over herself, and always has. That's why she thought it'd be best if Natsuo considered moving to a healthier environment to start his life. Yumi didn't mind staying behind in the family home until Shoto and Emiko aged out. "It's more time for me to get my savings in order," she swears. It doesn't make her age any faster, but it sure does help that Emiko is a grade ahead. At least in her mind, it helps.

She fumbles the key until the door opens. Hot tears prick at the corners of her eyes.

Though her status is impressive by word of mouth, it's not to say that she isn't drowning in the assignments she refuses to do and the classes she skips. While she'd originally applied for the general studies course, word had gotten out to her father that she was accepted into U.A. The man swore up and down that she wouldn't amount to anything more than Fuyumi, but when Aizawa mentioned Endeavor having two children participating in U.A, he couldn't admit that she had been neglected up until that point.

Once she gets the door open, she slams it and throws the keys down on the entry table. She forces her fingers through her tied hair and pushes herself into the wall. She was too fragile to argue today. If it weren't for her previous absences, or maybe if it were any other day, she wouldn't have gone. She hadn't noticed the entry light being on, otherwise she would've expected Shoto to turn the corner. He'd already changed into more comfortable clothes, it seems. She faces back towards the door, wiping her cheeks with her sleeves. It didn't take much to drench them. Or maybe she just had a lot pent up.

"You're home early," She mutters, trying to hide how congested she sounded. "What happened to after-school classes?"

"You didn't go." He states, pressing something icy against the back of her arm. She jumps, turning around to an outstretched gallon of ice cream and two spoons. "I thought today was a good day for a break." he offers.

She had been forced to try for the hero course, faced with her fathers raging fury and his harsh training. She couldn't remember the last time she interacted with Shoto before her father paired them to train together. After Touya had passed, Their mother hurt Shoto only a few days later. A "psychotic break," the doctors called it. Nobody talked much after that. The house was eerily quiet for weeks. She sometimes wonders if the two week rule applies to that. That maybe they just fell out of the habit of talking. It's not like there was ever a lot of time to talk. Their father secluded Shoto from the rest of the family a lot growing up. But there was always a silent understanding to never mention Emiko's quirk to their father. A silent promise of protection from her big brother.

"You shouldn't... risk getting in trouble with father for skipping class.." she mumbles as she looks over her shoulder at the tub.

"I don't care what the old man thinks. Mr. Aizawa said it was alright and it won't be counted against me." He argues, a underlying desperate tone laced into the fabric of his words.

Fuyumi and Emiko were never taken seriously. They were born of the cursed sex, Endeavor believed they had no place in the heroes world. That's not where they belonged. Emiko wasn't like the rest anyway. Endeavor already had his golden child, he had no use for her. So when she crawled into bed with Touya claiming she felt sick with a faint blue glow and delicate ice crystals crackling like fine porcelain on the surface of her skin, it became a silent agreement amongst the children to let it fly under the radar.

That night, she sat on her bed scrolling through her grades: geometry, B+; literature, A+; history, B. English, B. Science, A. Hero Course 1-B, D.

"If you can't get that F up to an A, how do I know you're not going to disgrace the family name once you're in the spotlight?" Father's words echo in her head. "You're humiliating me in front of my colleagues. I know you can do better, your quirk is more than exceptional.”

“Damn it…” she hisses. “Not good enough.”

“Just come talk to Mr. Aizawa. Maybe he can help you transfer back into general studies without him knowing.” Shoto suggests, sitting stiffly on the foot of her bed.

“No good. He watches our grade books like a hawk. Not to mention he’s in touch with Mr. Vlad.. that would just make a bunch of other issues when that plan fails. Vlad’ll wonder why I didn’t go to him, and why I’d wanna leave the hero course in the first place. That’d only get Dad in trouble unless I lied..”

“No, you’re right..” He rubbed his chin, pulling the rest of himself onto the bed in a similar cross-legged position as Emiko. “It’s not good enough to risk it.”

“What if…” She paused. Her eyes lost focus of the screen before she attracted Shoto’s gaze. “What if I dropped out altogether?” The words fell out before she considered the consequences. She broke contact, looking back at the computer. “Just a thought, y’know.” She swallowed.

“No.. No, you shouldn’t even be considering that. Transferring back to general studies is better than that. Or- Transferring to 1-A, with me.” He stands to face her fully, but she keeps her eyes down. “Emiko if you’re struggling I can help you. I’m ahead, I can-”

“Shoto quit!” she snaps, meeting his gaze once again. “I don’t want to be in the hero course.”

“Well, what do you want to do?” he retorts.

“I- well, I don’t know yet..” She stumbles over her words, “But I don’t wanna be a hero!”

Shoto keeps his eyes on hers, his features slowly softening from their panicked state. He sits back down, tracing the fabric that stretches across his knees. “Of course, you don’t wanna be a hero..” he mumbles. “I’m doing it to prove a point. I don’t expect you to do the same. But…” He turns to her, closing the laptop. She looks up at him. “You can’t drop out. Whether you pass or fail your main course, or if you tell someone about Dad, just don’t drop out, alright?”

She sits with his words for a moment, before nodding. “Yeah.. okay.”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

“I miss you, ya’ deadbeat,” she whispers off into the cold air.

“How long’s it been?” She readjusts herself as she leans against a burnt-down wooden post. The exact place where her brother was last alive. “Ten, eleven years?” She speaks again, without response.

“I always thought you were so old. A cool teenager, or whatever. But now I’m sixteen, and you’re still thirteen.”

Another moment of silence passes.

“I’m failing my classes, y’know. My teacher said I need to ‘apply myself’. Hate to bring down the average, but I just-...” she sighs. “I can’t care.”

“...I unenrolled, today.” She admitted. The remains of the planks that used to make a house creaked and groaned, but she was used to it. It was all old and broken, and with the weather changing and the wind blowing it was to be expected.

“I’m not really sure what to do from here. I just feel.. Broken, I guess. And every time this time of year hits.. I can’t help but miss you more than anything.” She sits for another minute or so, before standing.

“I’ll.. be back tomorrow, maybe.”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Emiko tossed and turned in her bed. She swore she was coming down with a cold. She sat up in her bed. She was excruciatingly hot, but couldn't control how her body viciously shivered.

"Mama" she called out in a tired and sick tone, despite knowing her mother wouldn’t answer. She looked over at her sister in the bed over. It was obvious by the dark spots under her eyes that she had been up far later than anyone else so she could comfort Shoto. He had a rough day training and was littered in bandages.

She shivered, the motion causing a bead of sweat to fall from her face. She hesitantly tip-toed to the last person she knew to help her. She slid the paper door open and snuck to her eldest sibling's bed, wooden panels murmuring under her feet as she stepped.

A small blue glow pulled him from his sleep. She stood silently beside his bed, her arms wrapped around herself as she shook. Small blue flames created an aura around her figure, while intricate sheets of decorated ice patches clung to her skin.

"Touya, I'm sick.." she sniffled.

He rubbed and squinted his eyes, a tired expression the only thing acting as a backdrop.

"Emi?" He confirmed, not completely sure if he was actually awake.

She acted to crawl into bed, but the scent of burnt fabric immediately filled the air. He gasps, jumping to his feet and holding her in his arms. "Hey! Y're gonna start a fire!"

Natsuo shot up at Touya's exclamation, but Touya had already run out of the room.

As he ran down the hallway the small blue flames spread onto the surface of his skin, though it didn't burn. He dropped her into the tub and ran the bath. Touya hastily filled a cup with water and poured it over her head and shoulders. She rubbed her blue eyes and looked up at him.

He took a breath, meeting her gaze. "One hell of a fever, huh?" He laughed nervously, warranting a tired hum from his sister. She wiped the pouring water from her eyes. It had successfully extinguished the flames, but the icy crystals continued to climb her skin. Each crack sounded like porcelain. A gentle hiss when the fire went out.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

“When were you going to tell me that you unenrolled yourself?” Enji paced back and forth as she sat at the kitchen table with her head down. “Where did you learn to forge my signature? Do you know how many strings I had to pull to get you in that class? Just for you to what, act like a delinquent? I knew you should’ve been in 1-A. It was those second-rate hero students in B, wasn’t it? If you were in A, Shoto would’ve kept you in line.” She winced as he berated her.

“Are you even listening to me?” He turned to face her. You need to understand that you’ve never been in more trouble in your life.”

“Does that mean you’re finally deciding to be a parent?”

“…”

“…”

“…call your brother.”

“Because he blocked you?”

“Because you’re staying with him until you get your shit together. I’m re-enrolling you first thing tomorrow. Until then, I don’t want to see you until you find your gratitude. Do you understand?”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Her sneakers struck the concrete with a steady cadence, blending seamlessly into the city's bustling symphony.

A drop of oil in a cup of water.

Why did everyone keep just a bit extra distance away from her?

Emiko grips the bag that hung over her shoulder, swaying back and forth. She lets out a sharp hiss.

“Look– I can’t get involved in family drama right now.” She recalled Natsuo’s words verbatim. “I have a girlfriend now, and well- It’s too early in the relationship to have to explain why my sister absolutely has to stay over.”

She grips the metal rung, pulling back in disgust and wiping away the wet rusty substance on her pant leg.

“He won’t actually kick you out. You two just need to back away from each other. Hold up in your room for a while, alright? It’ll blow over.”

She tosses her bag onto the roof and throws her legs over the pony wall with a huff.

“Blow over.” She growls. “Yeah, whatever.” She throws herself down and leans over the city, mindlessly trying to zero in on a person or two. A snowflake melts on the surface of her hand. Her eyebrows pinch together before she ignites the small drop of water with a large, quick flame. A burnt smell stung her nose afterward. It.. it wasn’t her fire. No.. it wasn’t fire at all. Smoke. Cigarette smoke?

“This isn’t where you said you’d be, now was it?”

She jolted, but not much more. She looks over her shoulder a bit at the silhouette.

“What, ‘re you one of my dad’s sidekicks or something?”

“As if.” The man scoffs. He tilts his head back, his teeth just barely reflecting the light of the city. “Hey, let's make a game out of it. Guess again.”

Her eyes fall back on the city with a roll and a snarl. “Guess? Are you serious?”

“Yeah.” He pushes himself off the wall and slides down a few feet away from her. He wears a casual black pair of tattered pants, boots, and a hoodie hiding his side profile. “C’mon, it’ll be fun.”

She sighs and looks back down at the people below. She just wants to be left alone to hash out her feelings, but a distraction would be nice..

“Well? Can I have a hint?” She looks over to him. She can only really see the tip of his nose and his fingers from under the hoodie. Two are outstretched, letting a lone cigarette burn.

“Tch. no. It’d be too easy.” Silence falls between the strangers. “So.. What’s someone like you doing hanging out on rooftops? It’s snowing, y’know. You’ll catch a cold.”

She pulls her knees close to her chest, watching closely as the cigarette briefly disappears behind the shield of his hood.

“You share?” She squeaked out, less confident than she anticipated.

She was immediately met with bright, scornful eyes and dark scars. Jeez, what happened to this guy?

“This?” Ash fell to the wind as he raised his hand. “What, aren’t you like twelve? ‘Do I share’, not with a kid.”

Her shoulders met her ears. More scolding. Nice. “I dunno. I figured you were… y’know.” She trails off.

“A criminal?” he grins, leaning in a bit as he presses the palm of his hand against the cold brick below.

She pauses a moment, sheepishly shrugging and looking back down. “Something like that.”

“So that means I deal Drugs n’ Crap ™ out to kids, huh? This isn't a school PSA. These things are expensive, y’know.”

“So..”

“So? No. Unless you’re payin’ f-” He’s interrupted by the sound of crinkling as she digs through her bag, then proceeds to hand him multiple wadded-up ¥5,000 bills. He stares down with awestruck eyes, before recomposing himself.

“Of course. Rich brats..” he scoffs.

“So? I can pay, I-”

He grabs the wad of cash, pieces and corners poking through the gaps of his fingers. He flips through the bills with wide eyes until his brows furrow. He looks back to her, shoving the bills in his pocket and standing. Her face drains pale.

“Wait, wait, what are you doing?” She steadies herself upright.

“I’m doing you a favor.” He readjusts his hoodie and stuffs both his hands in his pockets, checking over his shoulder. “Consider it a savings account.”

She throws herself into him, clawing at his wrist and the fabric of his hoodie.

“You can’t do that man, that’s all I’ve got!”

“Hey, hey! You said it yourself, you have a death wish or something? I’m the bad guy. Don’t give your money to strangers.” He pushes her down onto the roof off the pony wall. “Especially not guys like me.”

She glares up at him, catching her breath through gritted teeth. With slow, confident steps he makes his way to the ladder.

“Smoking’s bad for you anyway. Smarten up, yeah?”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

She lets out a long, exaggerated sigh as she mindlessly rolls a pencil around her new desk. Her head rests downcast as students gradually enter the classroom.

Shoto hasn’t said a word to her since she got back. Maybe he just didn’t know what to say. Or maybe it was to avoid a fight. To keep the peace, or what little’s left of it.

Emiko sat in a brand new table in the far back corner. Talk had gone around the grownups about a dunce seat at the front of the class besides the homeroom teacher, but it was a short-lived idea. The man was outraged by such a thought, claiming he didn’t get paid to babysit troubled youth. Mr. Aizawa was against the idea of an extra student anyway. She had to be on her best behavior, the best in the class if she wanted to stay. She didn’t want to, but Enji did. The threat of being out of the house for good hangs over her head. “If you can’t handle staying in school,” she recounted his words. “You’ll have to learn how to live out in the world on your own.”

As the number of people in the room increases, chatter breaks out about the new student. How the amount will be uneven, or what a new student is doing joining in the middle of the year, or what to expect.

She groans, rolling the pencil more vigorously until it flies off onto the floor. She sighs, pressing her forehead to the icy surface of her desk.

Her seat was off center. Just kind of thrown in the nearest clearing. Her nearest desk neighbor being a rather tall girl with a tight black ponytail. Emiko pulled herself back up when the girl offered the fallen pencil and a formal smile.

“Momo Yaoyorozu.” She introduces.

She takes the pencil. “Thanks.” the mumbles coldly.

Emiko looks up at her with a rather tired expression, not returning her warmth. “Emiko. Emiko uhm.. Todoroki. You can just call me Emi, though.”

Shoto’s shoulders stiffen. He’s been only a few feet away from her for the past half hour and hasn’t said a word. I mean, he hasn’t seen her in days—

She’s pulled from her thought, her eyes fall back on the girl standing beside her desk with an awestruck expression.

“You’re from the Todoroki family? And you’re seated so close to you’re brother, how lucky!”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“It makes sense now, why you’re here. Why so late getting in? I can help you catch up from the past month if you’d-”

“No.” Emiko interrupts. “ I mean, no thank you. I’ll be fine.” She corrects herself.

“O-oh. well, alright. But- if you change you’re mind later on the offer’s still open.” She clasps her hands together, looking to the side before sitting down at her desk.

A group of people fly through the door right before the bell rings, taking their seats as the teacher prepares himself at the front of the class.

She liked him. So far, at least. He only spoke to her when necessary. There wasn’t a class introduction either. He had said something about pros having to make allies on their own time, and if she wanted to survive his class it would be in her best interest to put in her all. Maybe she shouldn't have been so cold with Youyorozu. She’s at the top of the class, she could have been useful.

Oh well. This class was the least of her worries. She just had to pass, not excel. She could if she wanted to of course. If she survived her fathers harsh grading growing up while she was homeschooled, she’d be just fine here. Hell, she was in the top five in general studies, and she didn’t even try.

“Todoroki.” Aizawa had been calling on her at least four times. She snapped out of her thoughts, looking up at him pinching the bridge of his nose. “Did you pick up a textbook? You have a month to catch up on, I suggest you have it readily at hand.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Alright, and your paper?’

“Huh?”

“You need to pick up whatever papers I have set out at the beginning of class.”

“Oh. Right.”

(Leaving out the awkward walk of shame up to the front of the class bc its too brutal 😔)

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

She slings her bag over her shoulder, which she swears tripled in weight since the class began. A chill ran down her spine as she walked down the crowded hall. The thought of going home was less than ideal. She was welcome back already. But for what, passive aggressive comments and more scolding?

Maybe she’d visit mom.

No, she’d just drag unnecessary stress to her mother.

Stay and knock out some chapters in this damn textbook?

She readjusts the bag into a slightly more comfortable position. Pass.

She readjusts the bag into a slightly more comfortable position. Pass.

A cafe? Get some coffee and a pastry—oh, right, no cash. Thanks for that, random mugger. Real classy.

Her steps slowed. She could try and get her money back. Why not? What’s the worst that could happen? Some guy trying to mug her again? She’d like to see him try. She had her quirk… kind of. Okay, maybe she hadn’t practiced much, but even a little fire could scare someone off, right? People usually weren’t stupid enough to mess with a Todoroki. Or so she hoped

Ahead, she sees the distinct color of her brothers hair. She pushes through people, throwing in a few ‘excuse me’s and ‘sorry’ before grabbing his shoulder.

“Shoto! Hey,”

“Oh, uhm.. Hey.”

“Hey, so you actually haven’t talked to me all day, how’ve you been?”

“I’m well. But.. maybe lay low at home.”

“Tch. I’m not going home. Not right now, anyways. Hey, you wanna help me out with something? I could use some backup.”

“Uhm, actually I should get going.. I’m not going home either. I’m studying with some friends. If… you’re not busy, i think it’d be a good idea for you to come along. We could help you catch up.”

“Nah. but thanks though. Maybe next time.”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Cars honked and sped by from her right as she walked down the sidewalk. It was just a bit earlier than it was the other night, but it couldn’t hurt to be early. Who knows how long he was up their before she arrived, or if he visits that roof often. What if it was just a one time occurrence? Just, a random crossing of paths maybe.

She hoisted herself up the ladder. The bag’s a no-go, it weighs as much as she does. She drops it on the first step with a heavy thud, before proceeding the rest of the way up.

She threw herself over the pony wall and took a few steps in, looking around. She didn’t smell burning cigarettes, but the night was still young.

Until it wasn't. Hours passed, just her alone on the edge of a rooftop. She played with a controlled cobalt flame at the tip of her thumb, before standing up with a huff. Three hours passed since the time they originally met. During that time she eventually brought her bag up and went through a few pages. The intro, and half of chapter two. Something about hero ethics.. Maybe she shouldn't have skimmed ahead a few extra pages. Maybe she just didn’t understand it yet. But it didn’t sit right with her. She couldn’t understand its values, much less relate to them.

She packed up her stuff and threw her bag off the roof, before climbing down after it.

Where did that— did someone spill their soda down here since she’s been up there? Eugh!

She walks down the street, bitter and defeated with a sopping, sticky bag. Great.

Her shiny new penny loafers were scuffed and scraped up all to hell on her first day back at school. Oh well. Old high-tops it is.

Of course, her blazer’s stained, too. Guess that’s why U.A sells sweater vests. Maybe not directly the reason, but it’ll work for school tomorrow.

She shoves the blazer deep into her bag. Both will be cleaned, eventually.

She sighs walking down the street. It’s cold and humid, and the guy wasn’t there. She loosens her tie as she waits at the train station.

The train hisses as it comes to a stop. She enters, grabbing a pole with the least people hanging off.

A hand nudges hers as it reaches for the bar.

Those same markings. Huh..

Really, she wants to be surprised, but she’s just not feeling it. Without looking up, she murmurs at him tiredly.

“I want my money.”

“I already told you, I’m saving it. Saving you from throwing around that much cash. Ever heard of ‘thank you’?”

“Tch, tough luck. I’m not thanking you for stealing.”

“Fine, don’t.” He rolls his eyes, extending away from the bar a bit to take note of the other passengers before leaning back in. “You don’t really believe in being a pro, right?”

Her eyes dart up to him, making him retract. He looks the other direction.

“Just saying. The face you were making while you were reading, it was—”

“You were watching me?” she furrows her brows, finally meeting his gaze.

“Shh, y’re gonna draw too much attention.”

She huffs and looks away.

“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, I saw you. You didn’t like what you saw, did you?”

“..I dunno. I didn’t read it in the right order. I was just confused. If you saw me why didn’t you say something? You did last time. How long were you there?”

“Long enough to witness you pick your nose.”

“oh.”

“So? What had you so confused? Hero work should be clear as day, right? If it were so noble or good or whatever.”

“What are you talking about? You don’t…”

“Don’t what? Question the system? Hate heroes?” He leans in slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Come on, throw me a bone here.”

“...what’s.. The point? In following me, I mean.”

“Bold of you to assume I give a shit enough to follow you. Right place, right time, nothing more.”

She pauses. “So..”

“So?”

“So how do we keep meeting? It doesn’t fell as random as you say it is.”

“Pfft.” Everyone sways forward as the train comes to a stop. “It’s not my problem that you don’t get it yet.”

She looks back in his previous direction, but he’d already disappeared. He threw up a lazy wave before getting lost in the ocean of people.

[tubbytarchia]

So I think my perception of Grian's reasoning for enabling the horrible Jimmy ecosystem and also my perception of his character as a whole has been turned on its head completely and I feel really bad for him after watching Kingdom of Valor and it's like bad roleplay but it's. it's done things to me and I've never ever felt this much for Grian not even in my sadboy Grian Desert Duo phase. I don't know what to do about this

SA word under cut

Episodes 6 and 10 (like the entirety of it) for context. :( . :(. But like major warning if you watch those episodes, especially 10, because um they didn't use any disclaimers