#like.... the loneliness of being one of the few people who know the Truth about the gods

[doumadono]

Hello! I'd like to ask for an emergency request if that's alright—your inbox says there's still 2 slots available so I wanted to give it a try. I don't wish for anything overly complicated and to put it simply my request would go as follow: could you write something (whether headcanons or one-shot, it's up to you) with Shigaraki and Dabi with a very, VERY lonely fem!reader? As vaguely as it sound, I find it fitting to add some background: reader is an only-child who comes from a small family with basically no aunts, uncles, cousins—the other half of the family either dead or living far away abroad. Due to constantly moving since early childhood, there's no such a thing as childhood friends, neighbour friends or any sort of community to belong. Additionally, she's always been single since it was impossible to build any long-term relationship while constantly changing the place of living. She's independent, used to being all alone (in school, job, home...) and doing everything alone (shopping, cinema, coffee shop, watching movies...) but sometimes it can get really lonely being all by herself in the world... If it's not emergency enough it's okay but if you'd be willing to write something on the subject I'd be very grateful!

Synopsis: after you skip Toga’s party, Dabi and Shigaraki start following you, noticing how lonely you really are. Confronting you at your favorite café, they make it clear - you’re not alone

EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST - PART 2

The café smelled like freshly ground coffee and warm vanilla, the kind of scent that usually wrapped around you like a comforting hug. But today, it did nothing to ease the weight pressing on your chest.

You curled your fingers around your cup, letting the warmth seep into your skin. Your favorite drink sat untouched in front of you, steam curling lazily into the air. The noise of the city outside hummed through the glass windows, the chatter of people blending into a steady backdrop, but none of it really reached you. It was just you, your thoughts, and the empty seat across from you.

You weren’t surprised by the feeling anymore - the familiar weight in your chest, the hollow ache of knowing that, at the end of the day, it was just you. No family to call. No childhood friends to reconnect with. No one to notice if you skipped a meal or spent the entire weekend inside without speaking a word to another person.

Which is why it wasn’t exactly surprising that no one questioned it when you’d declined Toga’s birthday gathering a few days ago.

You’d made some excuse about feeling sick, about needing to rest. It wasn’t entirely a lie, not when loneliness had a way of making you physically exhausted. The truth was, you hadn’t been in the mood for anything. 

Still, you hadn’t expected anyone to care beyond a passing “feel better” from Twice or maybe Toga pouting about missing your presence. And what you hadn’t expected surely was being followed. And you definitely hadn’t expected them to show up here.

The screech of a chair dragged against the floor cut through your thoughts.

"Alright, this is fucking depressing," Dabi stated, moving a chair. "So this is what you do when you’re too busy for Toga’s party?" The black-haired man drawled, slouching down into the seat like he owned the place. "Sitting in a café, looking like the poster child for depression?"

Your fingers twitched around your cup, your mind catching up to the fact that he was here. You barely had time to register that before another chair moved, this time with more hesitation.

Shigaraki.

Unlike Dabi, he didn’t sit right away. He hovered, almost like he wasn’t sure if this was a good idea but had already committed. His red eyes flickered to you before landing on your untouched drink. "That’s getting cold."

You blinked. "What—"

"You've been staring at it for fifteen minutes," Shigaraki muttered, finally sitting down beside Dabi, slouching like he was trying to make himself as unnoticeable as possible by pulling his hood lower on his face. "Took us a while to figure out your routine," he muttered, sounding vaguely irritated. "You go to the same places. In the same order. It’s kind of pathetic."

Your mouth opened and closed. "Excuse me? You've been watching me?" you asked, suspicion lacing your voice.

Dabi smirked, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "Yup."

"For how long?"

Shigaraki gave a noncommittal grunt. Dabi, on the other hand, leaned forward on his elbows, improving the face mask he wore. "Oh, you know. Just a couple of days."

Your stomach twisted. "Are you serious?"

"You didn’t even notice we were following you," Shigaraki continued, fingers twitching slightly against his sleeves. "That’s careless. If it were anyone else, you’d be dead."

You stared at them, brain short-circuiting. "Why?"

Shigaraki shifted, eyes darting toward the window before landing on you again. "You looked miserable."

"You didn't leave us much of a choice," Dabi added quickly, stretching his arms behind his head. "You think we wouldn’t notice you acting weird? Turning down a party? Avoiding everyone?"

Shigaraki tilted his head. "Toga was worried."

You opened your mouth, closed it, then opened it again. "So that was why you followed me around?"

Dabi snorted. "We observed."

"Like creeps."

"Hey, if you didn’t want creeps watching you, maybe don’t look like you’re about to start narrating a sad movie monologue every time you sit alone in this café," Dabi shot back, raising an eyebrow. "Seriously, do you even talk to anyone outside the League?"

You hesitated.

And that was answer enough.

Shigaraki exhaled sharply through his nose, leaning back in his chair. "That’s what I thought."

Your fingers tightened around your cup, the familiar ache in your chest pressing down again. It was one thing to know you were lonely - it was another to have someone point it out like a glaring neon sign.

"Why do you care?" you muttered, voice quieter now.

Shigaraki didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stared at you, fingers twitching slightly like he wanted to fidget with his sleeves but resisted the urge. Finally, he muttered, "Because it’s fucking annoying."

You frowned. "What?"

Dabi chuckled, shaking his head. "What he means is, it pisses us off that you think you have to do everything alone." His voice was lighter than Shigaraki’s, teasing even, but there was something underneath it - something genuine. "Like, come on, you’re part of us, ain’t ya?"

You swallowed hard. Part of us.

The thing was, you had never really considered the League of Villains your family. Sure, you worked with them once in a while, trusted them in the way soldiers trusted the people fighting beside them, but outside of missions? Outside of sitting in the hideout and tolerating their antics?

"I don’t really have anyone," you said finally, voice quieter than you intended. "No family, no old friends. It’s just me. And most of the time, I don’t mind, but sometimes, it gets lonely." You stared down at your cup, fingers tightening around the warm ceramic. "That’s all."

"That’s fucking stupid," Shigaraki uttered bluntly.

You blinked up at him. "Excuse me?"

The leader of the League of Villains scowled, shifting in his seat. "You do have people. What the hell are we, then?"

You opened your mouth, but Dabi cut in, his voice oddly serious. "You think we’re just watching you for fun? That we care if you go missing for days because we’re bored?" He leaned forward slightly, eyes locked onto yours. "Newsflash, sweetheart. You’re ours. You’ve been ours for a long time now."

Something in your chest tightened. "But—"

Shigaraki huffed. "You put up with us when no one else does. That counts for something." He glanced at his hands, fingers twitching again. "So stop acting like no one gives a shit about you. Because we do."

Dabi drummed his fingers against the table, tilting his head. "We’re not exactly model citizens, but we take care of our own. You’re one of us, whether you like it or not."

Your throat tightened, and for a second, you couldn’t speak. You swallowed, trying to force down the sudden wave of emotion creeping up. "You guys are really bad at this whole cheering someone up thing, you know."

Dabi snorted. "Yeah, well. If you wanted sunshine and rainbows, you picked the wrong friends."

Shigaraki crossed his arms. "Are you coming back or not?"

You hesitated, but before you could answer, Dabi suddenly reached over and stole your cup right out of your hands.

"Hey!"

He pushed his face mask down enough to take a sip, but then he immediately made a face. "What the hell is this?"

"My coffee, you asshole!" You tried to snatch it back, but he held it out of reach.

"This is gross," he complained, handing it to Shigaraki, who - surprisingly - did not drink it, just set it back in front of you like a normal person would.

Dabi grinned. "Guess I’m buying you a new one. Something that doesn’t taste like liquid disappointment."

You rolled your eyes. "I like it."

"And that’s the problem," he shot back, already waving down a barista.

Shigaraki stood up, shoving his hands into his hoodie pocket. "You’re coming back to base after this," he said, not even asking, just deciding. "No more sitting in cafés alone like some kind of tragic novel protagonist."

You looked between them, exasperated. "So that’s it? You’re just forcing me to rejoin society?"

Dabi smirked, tossing an arm lazily over your shoulders. "Damn right we are. Whether you like it or not."

You shook your head, unable to stop the tiny, tired laugh that escaped your lips. It wasn’t much - not some grand, emotional declaration or a life-changing moment - but it was something.

And maybe that was enough.

Because when you looked up at them - Dabi, slouched with a cocky grin, and Shigaraki, pacing back and forth as he already wanted to leave the place - the ache in your chest didn’t feel so heavy anymore.

@pixelcafe-network

[sun-marie]

omg this Paris Paloma song is soooo Sabina-coded 😭

[affableramen]

Pantalone x inexperienced AFAB reader

very angsty smut with plot. 6K word count

explicit content, minors dni

Note: finally releasing my big dicked king in all his beauty 👍🏻

The man that always wore masks of an extremely affable demeanour had been hiding by any means an ugly heart. Behind the decorous appearance and impeccable manners there was an old bachelor who knew nothing but loneliness before becoming the richest man in the country and after. It was like he was destined to be always alone, he thought. But that perilous assumption was not enough to justify the poorness of his character and the ill manner of his actions while being in close intimacy with someone. Though extremely charming in public, he was incredibly unlikeable to those he spoke privately to. Smart, well-read and educated that was all about him but at the same time it could not save his soul that could only have capacity for three feelings: abhor, greed and lust.

You did not understand him. You did not understand how someone could go about their day throwing false smiles here and there, playing with people as if they were nothing but puppets on strings. He was not a beast, but he was a skillfull manipulator, a creature to you more disgusting than anyone else. You did not agree with any of his false views of justice and you simply knew that the two of you lived in very different worlds. You did not deny that a person was a product of their traumas and experiences, yet somehow the man standing in front of you right now seemed to absorb every filthy trait, every possible flaw one could know. 

He was indeed a man of many flaws, but at the same time he was so captivating for you. So interesting to watch, to study. People were always drawn by something they failed to understand…

“I love you.” You shivered and inhaled sharply upon hearing his false (to you) words. 

The rain’s heavy drops fell chaotically making a mess of the ground under your feet. It was a big rain. As big as the emotions that spoke from the bottom of your heart. This man under any circumstances could not fit with your convictions.

“You don’t know love.” The answer slipped from your lips made Pantalone’s chest squeeze into something shallow and cracky. But he had been the man known for getting what he wanted whenever he wanted, ignoring any obstacles no matter how dreadful they could be. That man did not have a single hint of fear in his heart. He was reckless, foolish sometimes even, so dearly holding onto his plan, believing that he was saving everyone. But in the whole bitter truth, he was only saving himself. 

“Then teach me.”

He was standing there, when the falling rain had washed that smug smirk long ago. The masks were taken off, the true faces were in the light. The both of you standing there were wet to the bone, your fuzzy coat did absolutely nothing to protect your skin from the coolness of the autumn.

It was a long few minutes before Pantalone finally switched his brain on and pulled the umbrella out. He opened it and locked it above your heads. You wished you did not allow yourself doing that, but instinctively you pushed your body closer to the shade of the umbrella, accepting Pantalone’s generousity. 

You hated this man. Did you not? Or did the seriousness of expression he gave you every time you were in sight cause your knees to feel weak? The long, blank face he would give every time the two of you appeared in the same room by chance? How his stupid, false (to you) smile hurriedly morphed into the most tense expression you’d ever seen? This man was so smiley to everyone else… but to you. Or, how his hand squeezed yours for a tiny shallow moment when he pulled you out from his car, at the evening he surprisingly gave you a lift to home? 

Damn those gloved hands! They did not protect you from the heat of his fingers. You imagined the hand under those leather gloves icy cold, but you knew the touch would be so burning at the same time.

“No, I do not hate him. I can’t hate him. Not when he makes me stop in my tracks, not when the sensation I thought dead forever would rise somewhere below my tummy at the mere thought of his eyes on me.”

You finally met his. Yet another piece of decorum was but an obstacle on your way of discerning him. Those damned eyeglasses. He hid his eyes behind them way too well.

“I know what you are about to say. You want nothing more than to once again point out how cruel, unappealing, cowardly and dishonest I am in your eyes. I am perfectly aware of what good people think of me (by any means, you’re one of the good people). But before you start, I want to confess the true feelings I have been burying deep within me for so many months. Seeing you and not being able to express my true feelings or have your company around was but a torture for me. I want to feel your eyes on mine at least once without that judgement and prejudice. Without that desperate hate of yours, the eating, raging fire that wants to burn me so badly. And I would allow you to do it, I am more than convinced of the imperfections of my character. The evil that took lives of many, the greed that made so many suffer and die in aloneness… I am well, believe me for once, aware, that my presence is destructive and dangerous, and gives ground to foulness. And if the charming façade of a successful businessman had been discerned by you so easily, and you have seen the flaws of my heart so clearly, then I admit you have completely beaten me and truthfully taken my heart as a trophy. Because you are, by any means, the love of my life."

You felt your eyes getting wet. This was so foolish and laughable, but it was the first moment between you when you finally felt a tad bit of sincerity from his heart. The little sparkles came out of his deep dark, almost hollow eyes of a rough businessman as he spoke his confession. This man had humiliated himself quite literally in front of you just a moment ago. 

“Did I say something wrong?” Pantalone inquired, the light in his eyes shook with worry.

“Not even close.”

“You look like you are not getting enough sleep. Your eyes are bloodshot, you’re so pale.”

“Is that what you’re concerned about right now?” You said through a laugh that was more a cry of despair. “Do you care about how I feel?”

Pantalone’s face did not crack for a second. He spoke seriously, with firmness of his velvety baritone.

“I do not deny I did not consider your feelings once during the earlier period… I mistreated you badly. But I will truthfully admit that the first time I met you, I looked at you with unknown softness spreading through my mind. The softness I never knew even existed in me. I deemed feelings like attachment and sympathy shallow, my whole life.”

 “All this time I thought your serious gazes at me meant nothing but disgust. After all, I have no name to myself and no wealth behind my back…”

“Dear Y/N…” Pantalone gasped air as if it was not enough for him to breathe. He remembered his horrendous past at that moment. No, not remembering, it would be an understatement. The whole life seemed to rush through his mind, the suffering of a destitute family, the destiny destroyed for one poor child because his family could barely afford sugar. The constant hunger that turned into an echo of eating disorder later. The so usual cold and rain. The stray cats that would surround him. He was never a lucky boy, he deemed his life very cruel and pathetic. Not a single praise, not a single one more fake smile on his face, that impudent selfishness he tried to wrap around his face like a mask, was a good tool to sustain his reputation. But when he was alone with himself, how he looked in the mirror - he always saw nothing but that poor beggar, cursed by the universe, abandoned by the archons and left forever alone to suffer his pain that did not even tiny bit subside. Eating those lavish homely cooked meals by his damn, personal chef! Being served every time when he looked into the plate, his poor traumatised mind forced him into seeing nothing but scraps! He was a beggar once, and he was a beggar forever - that’s how he thought of himself. 

“I do not care if you are not rich. As I myself had been roughly put in the position of a destitute, pathetic beggar once. This all you see”, he pointed at himself, “is but a façade.”

The words leaving his mouth seemed very heavily spoken. It caused him immense pain to dwell on that part of his life. 

“But if the woman I love gave me at least a hint of affection, I would consider myself the richest man alive not by public view but my own, deep inside my wicked heart.”

“Affection?” You broke into a thousand pieces. Your voice shook, you were almost sure you left a shocked noise but you could not be able to hear it, due to the uneasiness of your mind. 

“Affection, yes, the definition of which I so successfully fail to understand. But if you would teach me to love you, showme how I can be the man worthy of your attention”, his velvety voice darkened, no, deepened. “Just one chance.”

You could not believe the words you were about to say, the thoughts that were rushing through your head, but intuitively you knew that this moment was perfectly fitting for the filthy words you longed to let off your mind.

“And if I want that… in the bedroom?” 

The words slipped off your tongue so quickly, you could not bear it and felt how your body reacted with pure embarrassment, sending shock waves through the whole of you, deep red slowly spreading across your face.

"In the… bedroom?" he asked, reaching out his free hand to her gently. He chuckled at last. “I would… I…”

The elegance and richness of his façade had dropped so soon after having heard your blunt but arousing words. There was unspoken diffidence in his stature, you swore you never saw it before. The shape of the ruthless businessman morphed into a rather shy man who did not know what to respond, not insulting or embarrassing you with his own personal opinion. 

“I would not dream of it”, he finally said. “I only imagined a kiss, or two. But to hear you offer—” he cut his sentence. The words seemed too improper to say them outloud. 

The rain was still falling, the two of you were still standing there. Pantalone stopped talking the moment he realised that you might get sick. He wasn't even thinking about his own well being in that moment. The sole purpose of his life became…. you.

(The smut part starts here) 

Pantalone and you had successfully gotten to his mansion to hide from the cruelty of the weather. The cruelty of the weather that you called rather romantic. Once you entered his house you were smitten by the lavishness and luxury, but unlike how you imagined it in your head before (that it would be rather vulgar), it appeared more old, more antiqued to you rather than vulgar. It felt like he bought this house from another rich gentleman and decorated it in his own way, however it still remained with the dark, aging aura within. 

You did not have too much time to enjoy his mansion, but not because he rushed you or because you did not want that - you did, badly. But the solely reason of your hurry was the desire you wanted to fulfill. Something feral, physical, you denied having in yourself for a long time. The two of you dried up, removing the soaked clothes and putting on something else. Pantalone’s servants were quick to fetch you a clothing. The dress was completely new, gray and of luxurious looks. Pantalone would never even think of forcing you to wear one of his previous lovers’ gowns, that obviously had remained in the old wardrobes of the mansion… He gave a thought to destroying all of them as soon as you entered his house. There will be nothing more showing attachment to his previous encounters. You will not suffer the consequences of his careless actions and will never be treated as a regular rich man treats his whores. 

The clothing arrived and you finally dressed yourself, Pantalone waiting in another room patiently. At last, he asked his servants and butler to leave you to all alone. They could swear they never saw their master with such peace of mind. 

“It would be my greatest pleasure to share a bed with you, if the words you spoke before were not satire or a joke to mock me”, he covered the top of your hand with his own. His frail hands… you looked down and saw that they were bare. Slightly calloused, aged, but with impeccable manicured nails and pleasant appearance on the whole. Without his rings they were almost unrecognisable. Perhaps the only clue to see his person in them was the familiar elegance of the movements of his fingers, which were slightly trembling right now.

“There was no satire”, you forced yourself to not waver. “I suspected the… the signs of your appreciation for me, but I would rather ignore them for the sake of my peace of heart. I chose to believe that you-” you covered your face for a moment as if realising the gravest mistake. “That you had hated me to the bone. The looks you had been giving me both resembled hate and softness of heart. I could not decide which one was more vividly depicted.”

“In that aggression, in that hostility, if you may, I hid the softest feelings to you. However with you being completely honest and so blunt (which, belive me, does not ruin your attractiveness by any means) I feel myself preoccupied with rather primal desires. I want you as a man wants a woman. I don't want you as a friend. I want you on a level that is way more personal. In a way that, if described accurately, will raise scandal and be considered sinful and dirty.”

And he said it like that, in the most down-to-earth way possible.

“There is always a little bit of scandalousness involved when one person desires the other.”

You tried to comfort him in a way that would resemble his wordings. Having been pleased with your answer, Pantalone chuckled softly. You realised that the clothes you just put on were going to be taken off you once again. But this time, not by the maids - by Pantalone himself. 

“I usually have my valets undress me. But tonight, I trust myself to you.” He smiled playfully. You started undoing his coat gently, slowly, playing with the buttons in your fingers. 

“How many women did you have?” You asked nonchalantly, trying to play the coolness of character, but the blush of your cheeks would betray you.

“That is the question the answer to which might disappoint you.”

“I want to know. Besides, you are alone with me right now, and for a reason”, finally getting to his shirt you apologised, “it may have been rather too forward of me, forgive me. I am just trying to learn more about you.”

“Gossips won't always provide you with a rightful answer, my dear. Though I am not a womaniser, nor a man who ‘has received intimately more women than he can count’, I have had my fair share of experience.”

“Then I think you should lead me.” 

You finished unbuttoning his shirt, the clothing that was an obstacle for you to seeing his chest you desired seeing so. Finally, the shirt was not longer covering his top and you found yourself astonished seeing his scrawny physique. He could not be considered explicitly skinny while wearing all those layers of luxurious clothes. That was quite a change for you, but you still found yourself drawn to it after a few moments. The pale aristocratic skin seemed even more graceful to you when looking at him so closely, so personally.

“Turn around, my dear”, Pantalone asked you smoothly. You complied, and he started undoing your dress. The unabashed manner of his intricate movements confirmed that undressing a woman was but a regular practice for him.

The way his fingers moved felt so skilfully, a thought of what else good he could do with them crossed your mind unintentionally and gave you shivers.

“And do you often indulge your primal desires?”

For a few short moments Pantalone did not say a word. It was only after he undid your dress that he responded, calmly:

“The past few years I have been less enthusiastic than when I was in my full grace, in five-and-twenty.”

The confession, and the feeling of subtle hint of Pantalone having physical imperfections, for example, rheumatism, that is often seen in men of his age and would be a hindrance to remain well-performed in intimate activities, made you let out a slight giggle. 

Your dress was undone and you felt slight tightness somewhere in your throat, realising that once you’d turn to face Pantalone he would see your breasts in all beauty. His hands gently touched your shoulders, but he did not have to press on you, as you turned to face him by your own will shortly.

A low sigh escaped his lips once he saw you, naked, bashfully but gracefully standing in front of him. From his perspective you were the most beautiful woman in the world. He could not dream of anything more satisfying than this. 

“I do not deserve such beauty”, he said quietly, forcing himself to tear his eyes off your chest and look you in the eyes at last. His hand moved to your cheek, caressing it before it moved to your hair and gently pulled on your hair pins, letting your hair fall waves on your shoulders.

“May I?” Pantalone let yet another gasp when your hands appeared on the belt of his pants.

“Whatever you wish to do with me. I am yours.” He slightly pulled his arms to the sides in a welcoming gesture, but only for a moment. 

You slowly unclasped his leather belt and in two languid motions he was completely bare in front of you. But if earlier he was bare just mentally before you, at this moment, he was standing quite literally naked. 

“Pantalone, it’s-” so big. 

He was not even close to a man who could be called rather hairy in terms of bodily hair, but a few dark black hairs were stood out below his waist area. You found it extremely hot, a knot in your stomach was imminent. 

His piece was already stiff by the time you freed him of his clothes. The sight of it startled you, almost causing a gasp of your own.

“Are you-” Pantalone held his tongue, but the question was too important to be simply avoided. “Are you inexperienced?”

You nodded without a word coming out of you. Yes, despite your age you still had not known marital activities.

“I should have realised it sooner. Forgive me, I would have been less rapid with the manner of undressing you.”

“The manner you undressed me with was above beautiful.”

Pantalone smiled, and you smiled back, however there was still a pattern of worry in his eyes, a slight embarrassment even. He simply cared a lot for your sensations, not wanting to cause you any hint of harm.

“Don’t worry, all you have to do is relax and trust me. Will you do that for me?”

You stepped out from your dress, completely revealing yourself bare. Although impressed by the beauty of yours and the attractiveness of your skin, the smoothness of your complexion and the sweetest smile he had ever been given to, he held himself back in order to not cause you unnecessary tenseness.

“The process will be slow, I will treat you gently and carefully.”

In no time you felt your body on the king size bed, the softest cotton of sheets welcoming you naturally. You let out of a gasp seeing how Pantalone was quick to tower over you, his body was not big, it was skinny, but he was a man of considerably tall height so he seemed, at that moment, quite huge compared to you. 

“Don’t be afraid”, he moved the hair strand out of your face, and then his finger traced a slow path down your lip, slowly tugging on it down. Your mouth parted, you looked at him the way a woman madly in love would look at her man. You did not know you could feel such hunger for anyone.

Pantalone then leaned to kiss you. The movement was very languid, smooth and almost innocent at first. Shortly, Pantalone sought entrance to your lips, parting it softly. With the carefulness of his tongue, the finesse of his skills he was teaching you into the art of love making. The kiss was long enough to leave you breathless, but sudden greediness burned inside you, telling oh, eternity will not be enough for you to feel him.

“I might need just one question to be addressed.” Pantalone pulled away from the kiss and gave you a look full of warmth and appreciation.

“What is it, my love?”

Gulping impatiently you steadied yourself. It was impossible to keep a blank expression on your face while having the thoughts of such wanton nature. 

“Do you prefer to be in complete charge when it comes to such activities? Do you play a dominant role in the bedroom or, perchance, allow bit of work by the other party?”

Pantalone was a possessive man by any means, and regarding business he was known to be ignorant of advice. He always did the way he personally preferred it, in accordance to his experience and end goals. 

But of course it was hard to predict him in marital relationships. The question you asked, you knew, it humoured him, as he let out an amiable chuckle.

“I won’t lie and say that I prefer to take a dominant position as to intimate relationships. That, of course, does not cut your chances to treat me with similar eagerness.”

He allowed you fervour and that was everything you needed to hear. 

“I will start now, slowly warming you up. Don’t worry about anything, I want to ask you to feel me. Close your eyes…”

His voice alone was so soothing and made wonders on you. You shut your eyes, even though the curiosity disagreed.

There it was, a sensation you never knew possible. You felt the Harbinger’s hot breath on the centre of your heat… It was embarrassing, almost insufferable, upon realising that his head was between your legs, you felt nothing a strange sense of vulnerability. But all worries as if by magic had stopped once he parted your legs and kissed you right where it would send butterflies to your stomach at only single thought of this. 

His tongue lapped against your wetted core, very kindly at first, but with more time passed his manner became nothing but of someone who had earnest dedication to their beloved one. His tongue was slowly pushed inside your quivering slit, your eyelashes fluttered impatiently. Pantalone managed to drew tiny pants and gasps out of your lips with success. 

He did not plan on pleasing you with his mouth only, you assumed, when you felt the gratifying coolness of his fingertips. The firmness of his fingers when he rubbed your clit was embellished with the gentleness, the slowness of pace. At first, you didn't make any sound at all. You were completely and utterly smitten, adjusting to the senses of pleasure newly discovered by you. Only when his finger slid inside you carefully (but with great precision still) you let out a noise so scandalous and filthy. 

“M-more…” you buckled your hips to the pleasure. Pantalone took advantage of it and added a bit of force to the movements of his finger in and out of your centre. Being overly sensitive due to your inexperience, you let out a cry.

You felt dampness unlike anything before. It was gathered in your heat, the fluids, increased in volume with the intensity of the earnest love making action, covered you. 

“Archons, Y/N, you’re so aroused.”

It was not long after he added the second finger you could not deny yourself the ecstasy anymore and gave in to the feelings completely. You felt warmth in the stomach area and not long after you presented him your release, dampening his fingers to some degree. 

You clawed his arm in frustration when you saw him move away.

“Pantalone, I want to make you feel good too.”

“You do?”

“Yes. Please, allow me to-” touch you where you touched me. Pantalone did not need you to continue. 

“You want to bring me pleasure?” He sat on the bed, looking at you expectantly.

You slowly moved to your knees and sat yourself comfortably as well, as close to him as it was possible in such circumstances.

“May I touch it?”

“Of course. You may touch it as much as you please. Don't be shy.”

“Is it pleasant when I do it this way?” 

“You may grip it firmer.” Pantalone made a distinguished “oh” with his mouth once your fingers grazed the soft skin of his peachy-coloured head. 

“Frankly speaking, I am quite content with making you satisfied first, my dear. I wish nothing more than to bring you to the peak of satisfaction again and again. But if you want to take care of my body, I shall not deny you any of it.”

You attempted to gently stroke along his length, drawing small groans from Pantalone’s lips, only to be soon once again kissed passionately and as fervently as possible. You were pushed back into the softness of the sheets, and when the kiss came to its logical end, Pantalone gave you a look that was more attentive than fervent. That was the moment you realised what dominant approach meant to him. It was frustrating witnessing how he did not let you proceed with rubbing his member, clearly did not want to allow himself even a tiny amount of vulnerability. It saddened you, but at the same time a dominant approach didn't seem so bad to you either. 

“I will be completely frank with you, it might hurt at first.” You nodded, seeking the already so dear to you the calmness in his eyes. 

“I can handle a little pain. I am alone with the man I trust.”

You did not believe you said that so openly, considering that just an hour ago you were persuaded that you hated this man to guts.

You saw his hand disappear somewhere in between your bodies before a connection so intimate by body and mind finally happened. 

Dull pain spread over your abdomen, your thighs felt unnecessary heavy, when his tip was pushed inside you with one definite movement of his hips. You gasped, gripping into Pantalone’s neck almost outrageously, unintentionally firmly, but meaning him no harm in fact.

“Continue… please, use it to the full extent”, you panted, knowing for sure that you sounded like someone who begged his heat to be inside her. 

You did not have to request him twice - Pantalone entered with one full, satisfying movement and let out a long held breath:

“H-hah…”

The pain was indeed there, just as predicted, however he fit perfectly. Pantalone found your hands and intertwined his fingers with yours.

“Here, take my hands in yours. Grip them as tightly as you wish.” Your hands squeezed his, not tightly enough to hear the slight crack of his old man bones, but tightly enough for him to feel your wholehearted commitment.

“Now, I want you to keep your eyes on me, for me.” Pantalone said, deep buried within you, but not moving yet, letting you adjust, his hips looking extremely poetic in this angle. You held your breath for a moment when you saw how darkened was the colour of his eyes. He was so aroused - both physically and emotionally. You could feel his ragged breath and thought: oh my goodness, if he panted like this by simply being seated inside me, what noise is he going to make once given permission to move?

Your curiosity was soon satisfied. Pantalone gave you a careful push, as if tasting your insides, how he fit you with his hardened manhood. A particular sudden noise escaped your lips in accordance to the movement, and you started melting to the touch. You were already incredibly aroused when he pleased you with his tongue and fingers, but once he thrusted into you with ideal precision, which could only be possible for a banker by profession, you moaned filthily.  “Okay?” He asked when he gave you a tiny taste of what’s to come.

“Okay.”

“Hold my hands, look at me”, he whispered, his voice dripping not with threat, it did not resemble his usual order-giving like manner. It was a gentle request. To which you complied, focusing on holding onto him. 

“Are you in pain?”

“Not anymore. I think I’m…” you panted, “getting used to the… size. It’s getting more difficult to stay… silent.”

“Why are you holding your voice, my love?” Pantalone inquired, perplexed. His eyes bore into yours as his whole being buried deep inside you, slowly but steadily picking up the tempo.

“What if you don’t like the way I cry?”

"God damn Y/N”, the curse slipped from the banker’s tongue. You felt proud of making such a collected and well-mannered gentleman who represented nothing but affable demeanour in public, cuss.

“I’m fucking the woman I love, and if I’m making her cry of pleasure I want nothing more than to hear it.”

He released your hands at once and cupped your face in his cool hands, leaning towards you so closely in order to bring a delightful kiss to your lips. Upon not feeling his hands anymore you pouted, but the so wanted sensation was soon replaced with generous amount of warmth and electricity that occurred once Pantalone gripped your hips and increased the force of his thrusts.

“Oh my god, Pantalone… Oh my god… I feel like I’m losing my mind.” You scratched his back involuntarily, and you were sure it was not entirely pleasant for him, it might even leave red marks.

“Then do lose your mind, with me. Oh, my love-”

Your eyes were glued to his lips almost unblinking, but once he moved his hips so forcefully, your mouth opened with a loud sigh.

“Soon you’re going to feel pleasure you’ve never thought about. You’re going to think of things that never crossed your mind. You’re going to experience the peak you never thought possible. And I will be the one making you happy, should you allow me.”

“Of course I’d allow you!” Your panting replaced with blunt, honest cries of pleasure as his hips were moving gracefully and quickly with precision and passion. You noticed him abruptly stop, but only to change the angle.

“It’s better like this”, he gave you sloppy kisses all over your face, “deeper.”

With the smooth change of angle, something else entirely had been awakened in you, and with all passion of your feelings, all sincerity of your earnestness, you called Pantalone by his real name in the midst of love making. 

“Fuck, Y/ N. Where did you hear this name?”

You did not respond, overwhelmed with passion and lust that were only developing in you gradually just now. There was a noise that came from his lips which did not resemble a hoarse, manly groan, but rather a vulnerable moan of someone close to the so desired release. And your assumption was confirmed when Pantalone buried his face into your neck and said with a tone extremely close to that of pleading:

“You may not respond. It is but nonsense right now. Oh Y/N, please, say that name again…” 

Had he always been so handsome?- you thought. Had he always been so eye pleasing to you?- you did not know. But the way he was towering over you right now, panting, losing control both of his silver tongue and graceful body, seemed hot. It was not just scarcely amiable to you, the way he was being with you in such intimacy gave sprouting to the carnal desires you must have been hiding. The kisses were not exactly chaste anymore, and the way you stared into his gloomy, void-like eyes was not even close to platonic.

You said Pantalone’s real name again and again, tasting it on your tongue, playing with it, giving it more intense intonation with each thrust of his thick manhood. 

“Archons- [his real name]!” you yelled again, this time realising you were close to falling apart, and even if you were lying on the bed you still felt insecure and unstable. You were shaking, but for a good reason. You did not even consider his mansion staff hearing such filthy moans containing the master’s true name slipping from your mouth. It was all irrelevant now.

Pantalone did not finish after a couple of shallow thrusts but he undeniably lasted not long. He could not, for the desire to finally have you was tremendous and his heart was practically throbbing in his chest, as with one more vulnerable, high-pitched moan he squirted his release.

You felt satisfying warmth dripping down all over your stomach. It was supposed to be unnoticeable, but due to swelled sensitivity you could still feel it. Seeing the creamy mess, however, you did not flinch in disgust. 

“I must apologise for staining your stomach.”

“We can clean that just fine.”

That instant, hearing your recommendation Pantalone grabbed a freshly smelling towel from his wardrobe and wiped you clean.

“You, cleaning your seed from my body. The evidence of what we had done together. Doesn't this seem incredibly personal to you?”

“It does. I want to provide you with the sweetest aftercare, because you are deserving each second of it.”

After cleaning you dry Pantalone got under the blanket closely to you and kissed you. The kiss this time was not dripping with fervour; it was soothing and gentle. You pulled the lock of his hair down playfully and asked with a smirk so unusual in contrast to your diffident behaviour during intimacy.

“Did I take you well, banker?”

“You took me exquisitely. I apologise if my performance was not as satisfactory as you imagined. Let’s say, I was overwhelmed with eagerness to feel you thoroughly. The noises you would let out, the movements your hips would make to match mine. I find myself madly in love with you more and more by every second, and this intimacy was a development to enormous extent.” Your breath hitched and shook when he cupped your face the way he did it during your closeness, except for this time it was slightly less rough. 

“I know you do not love me as much as I would want it to, but just letting me look at you the intimate way I do now, is enough for me to feel happy. I never thought I would be the one saying that, but I admit happiness does not consist of the material wealth only.”

“[His real name], I love you. I’m sorry that I lied to myself for so long. I’m sorry that I fooled you, too. I desire your company so, so much. You are my favourite person in this world.” The Harbinger’s hand which was stroking you froze in place. He looked at you, his eyes behind the glasses still looked deep and resembled the abyss. But you knew for sure that the way he spoke sounded nothing like of a man who was evil to the bone. It was soft, pleading, handsome and many other qualities, if someone heard you describe Pantalone with, would be called laughable. But this man was not as transparent as many thought. Behind the mask of the affable businessman, who was merciless to his rivals, there was a man who longed to be loved and taken care of. 

“Oh, Y/N, Y/N…” his eyes were glistening with hint of tears. “I love you. I need you, too.”

[fanfic-gallery]

manger's random tots #8 [ NSFW MDNI ]

|| cw (dead dove) : implications of stalking, spying

» manager's note: with the trending of the milkman over all my social media nowadays, i've decided not to hop on this train- but instead, write about some other type of pretty boy with a low paying profession (no, this is not a 'that's not my neigbour' fic, thank you) hope you guys enjoy...? (i had the idea him being an oc in mind but you can slap whatever character you want <3)

the neighbourhood mailman; absolute sweetheart, can do no wrong- sometimes giving away small little treats and nick-nacks along side the letters, pulling off light tricks and pranks to gargle a laugh or two, trying to brighten people's days.

yet, most don't seem too kind about his selfless gestures; impatient and grumpy bastards telling him off, yelling at him to knock it off with his piercing bike bell and 'nice guy' act.

on days like those, the only thing that seemed to be his light at the end of the tunnel, after gurgitating hours of cycling about under pretty harsh weathers, being chased off walk-way after walk-way... was you, his last patron of each day.

you weren't one of the first few in his delivery route; yet, you barely lived far down, so why is it that you were always his last? "...don't know... your letters always seemed to be at the bottom of the pile~" is what he claims; when in truth, he just wishes to spend the rest of his late-evening chatting your ear off with fun little misadventures he had during the past week.

he felt... cherished for once in his life; not someone needing to deal with the sour attitudes of people when they're all huffy or some boy-toy, taking his acts of service as an invitation to go running their hands all over him. he loved how he could play around, joke and complain without having the need to refrain himself. he felt... alive.

so it was to no one's surprise that he developed a massive crush on you; always giving you a little extra compared to the other townsfolk. full length handwritten letters, extra savings of candy and snacks he's been distributing that day, that box of pastries you seemed to have been eyeing up for the last few days or that prize you didn't manage to win during on one of your latest trips to the arcade.

seems light-hearted enough, right? if only you knew what other little treats he placed within your regular delivery... envelopes holding typed-letters; pouring his love for you over the many, many pages... each line, each paragraph... sometimes even rambling off into tangents- tangents of what he had been dreaming to do to you since day one... since the day you noticed his pains and took upon yourself to heal him back up.

yet, these sick fantasizes, these twisted thoughts on paper- you never blamed him for it, why would you went the initials signing off the letters eerily matched the creep that lived a few houses down from yours, who always seemed to have brought themselves false hope in charming you even after you said no.

no... you would never blame the innocent, naive mailman who's barely paid enough to suffer from verbal abuse every day of his life; barely having the funds to keep a himself together; yet, still cherished the happiness of others over his own.

maybe that's why you always seemed to accept his 'lustrous' gifts, especially that medium-sized stuffed bunny he so graciously sewed for you for valentine's to rid you of your loneliness. its soft yet limp body still laying on your bed, oblivious of the shine behind its dull black spheric eyes.

"...hah... hah...~" lustful eyes smiling as his flushed features melted against the monochrome screen he's stuck himself to, body trembling with each stroke of his throbbing cock, relishing in the soft breaths as you slept, spurring more pre to drip down his plush thighs, drenching the ground beneath his cheap desk chair. "...soon... soon, my love... i'll tell you the truth..."

[salty-autistic-writer]

Sunshine at noon wakes him up. Tommy furrows his brows in annoyance and blinks at the too-bright snippet of the outside world he can glimpse from where he’s curled up on his couch. Clear sky. It would be such a nice day for flying. Just like yesterday.

But instead of flying, Tommy has been parked on the same spot on his couch for a few days now, wrapped in a blanket like a sad burrito that someone left at the side of the road. He can imagine just fine how the rest of him looks. Unwashed, uncombed, unshaved. It’s a good thing no one will ever see him like this. He’s invisible. Hidden from the world.

Tommy took a personal leave. No one at work batted an eye. No one complained. It never happened before and after transferring from the 118 to the 217, Tommy made sure he had a certain reputation. He’s reliable. On time. Capable. Unproblematic. Friendly enough that people talk to him and want to go drink a beer with him once in a while. And he sold his role well enough, obviously. No one is worrying too much about him. They think he’s just … sick. Down with a cold or something.

They don’t know the brutal truth: Tommy is a complete mess. And he can’t find the energy to change anything about it.

All he does these days is sleep, stare at the TV without following what’s happening, drag himself up to go to the bathroom once in a while and get himself something to drink or eat - only the barest necessities, go back to slump on the couch again, and eat lots of ice cream. A ton of ice cream, actually. Empty containers surround him.

He’s pathetic. And an idiot. An idiot who manages to destroy everything good in his life and in the lives of the people he gets too close to. He messed things up before. But this is different. Because this time, he was almost about to be happy. And he had to throw that away too.

It’s better this way , Tommy tries to convince himself once again. I can’t be selfish. Evan deserves better. He may be hurt, sad and angry for the moment, but he will get over it. He is amazing and will find an amazing person. Someone who doesn’t carry around suitcases filled with past baggage. Someone who isn’t damaged. Someone who doesn’t stand on a wobbly heap of insecurities, ready to fall down the rabbit hole of panic and overthinking any moment. He will find an amazing person and he will be happy. Yes. He will be happy. 

No. Tommy can’t be selfish. But that’s it. He already was, right? He indulged himself. He allowed himself to enjoy what he had with Evan. Enjoyed it too much. Because it felt so good. It felt so right. Evan was always sunshine and nice things, hope and gentleness, honesty and acceptance, wrapped into touches that burned without being painful. 

Tommy took all that and then forgot that it couldn’t last forever. Because good things always come to an end. And the moment Evan spoke about moving in. About futures. It hit him. Evan doesn’t know enough. And Tommy loves Evan too much to let him walk into something he is going to regret. He learned enough lessons to know how this one would end. So he ran.

He ran once again. And now Tommy doesn’t know where to go.

God. He can’t even stay in Los Angeles, right? Something tugs painfully at Tommy’s heart when he realises that. He built a life here in LA. A relatively stable one compared to whatever he had before that. He liked to think it was a good life. With a stable job. With colleagues who like him enough to talk to him after work. With a house and a garage and hobbies. With neighbours who smile at him. A quiet life. A normal life.

A lonely life. 

Loneliness protects me, Tommy thinks grimly. He should leave. It would be better for everyone.

It was nice to reconnect with Hen and Howie. It was nice to meet Eddie. They have a lot in common. It’s been a while since he could talk about his time in the military with someone who knew exactly what he was feeling. It’s been nice to see Bobby and eat his lasagna again. But in the end, all of them are Evan’s family. So it’s only reasonable that they won’t want to spend time with Tommy anymore. He lost them with Evan.

So what is holding him here?

So you really want to run again? That doubtful little voice nagging his mind wonders.

I need to. It’s better this way. For everyone including myself. 

Is it? Or is this just you following a pattern because you’re too scared to wait and see if things might turn out differently this time? Because they could right? You can’t see the future. 

And the next thought going through his mind might be the sharpest. It cuts into his heart and leaves it bleeding. It hurts. But it’s so clear and real.

What do you have to lose anyway? 

Tommy sits up and buries his face in his hands. Yes. What does he have to lose, now that he destroyed everything? He has nothing and no one. Because he’s a coward. Always has been. Always will be …

The doorbell rings. Tommy flinches violently and stares towards the door, wide-eyed, his heart pounding.

Immediately, Tommy is flooded by anxiety. He’s not expecting anyone. Oh God. He really hopes it’s not Evan. He’s not ready for that talk. Or maybe it’s just someone from the 118 who decided to tell him in person what an asshole and coward he is. Well. I deserve that, Tommy guesses tiredly.

The doorbell rings again.

Tommy sighs. He drags his body up, letting the blanket slide on the couch and shuffles to the door, preparing himself for being yelled at. Or for being punched immediately. When he opens, however, he’s in for a different surprise.

“Lucy?!”

“Did you really think I wouldn’t check on you?” Lucy asks, raising a brow. She eyes him up and down, crossing her arms. “You look horrible.”

“I know,” Tommy mutters, scratching at the back of his head, feeling how greasy his growing hair is.

Lucy doesn’t wait for an invitation. She pushes past him, walks right into the living room, puts her hands on her hips, while she takes a look around and shakes her head. She reaches out to pick up one of the emptied ice cream containers that are littering the couch, the table, the floor. She turns to look at him, raising the container and a brow. “Jesus, Tommy.”

“I know,” Tommy sighs again, fidgeting with the hem of the old hoodie he’s wearing. He can't look her in the eye. Can't even ask her why she's here. He didn't think anyone would actually make the effort to drive by his house and ring the doorbell. And now he doesn't know how to deal with it.

“Have you eaten? I mean, anything else than ice cream? Come on. Let’s order Chinese,” Lucy says, already pulling out her phone.

A ghost of an almost smile appears on Tommy’s face. That’s why he likes Lucy. She’s direct and stern and somehow exactly what he needs right now. He doesn’t know how he deserves her being here, but it helps. It really does.

Their food arrives a little while later and they sit on the couch to eat. Tommy’s stomach growls when he smells the food and he feels a little dizzy. Wow. He didn’t even notice he was hungry before Lucy decided to pay him a visit.

“You broke up with Buck,” Lucy says, digging into her noodles. It’s not a question. It’s a statement. Tommy wonders if it's that obvious or if someone told her. And if so, who? “And now you are going to tell me why.”

Tommy sighs. “I thought it’s the right thing to do,” he says, after he chewed and swallowed his chicken. “The best thing for … for him.”

“So you freaked out,” Lucy says dryly. “It was a flight response. What did he do? Oh God,” she looks up from her food, wide-eyed. “Did the idiot propose already?!”

Tommy blinks. “Uh. No. He … He said he wants me to move in with him.”

Lucy deflates. She shakes her head. “Wow. Okay. Wait. Why would you move in with him? He has a loft. You have a house.” She gestures around, raising a brow. “I mean. If anything, he should be moving in with you. Is his bed even big enough for the two of you?”

“Not really,” Tommy mutters. Not if they wanted to use it for specific things. “But it doesn’t matter, Lucy. I broke up with him. Because he deserves better. He thinks he’s in love now. He thinks he wants a future with me now. But … There are things he doesn’t know about me. And I don’t want him to regret it. I don’t want to wake up in a few weeks, after living the dream, only to realise it’s going to turn into a nightmare where we both pretend that everything is alright but it isn’t …”

“Self-fulfilling-prophecy,” Lucy says, staring at him incredulously. “That’s what you’re doing right now, Tommy. You act like you know the future. Like you know how things are going to turn out. But you don’t! There are things he doesn’t know about you? So what? Tell him!”

“It’s not that easy,” Tommy mutters, his heart growing heavy. “I don’t want him to look at me differently. I love him too much for that.”

“You love him,” Lucy says, matter of factly, her brows wandering up.

Tommy swallows. He just said that, right? “I guess."

“So,” Lucy raises a finger. “Let me see if I got that right. You broke up with Buck because … you love him too much?”

Tommy doesn’t know if he’s supposed to cry or laugh. He shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to do, Lucy. I just … I got scared. This whole thing was too good to be true in the first place. And now he acts like he wants a future with me but how can he know that? How can I know it? Also … I don’t want him to miss out on anything. He just discovered he’s bisexual. And I was his first relationship with a guy.” Lucy scoffs. “Oh, come on, Tommy. Buck is an adult. He can make his own choices. And from what you are telling me, he already did. No. This is about you , freaking out because you are scared this will end badly.”

“Well, it’s not like things worked out in the past,” Tommy says bitterly. “Even if I was trying.”

Lucy makes a sympathetic noise. She reaches out, her hand resting on Tommy’s shoulder. A comforting presence. “Okay, but look at yourself now. You’re the definition of miserable. Those last few months? You’ve been glowing. Always smiling and giggling like a teenager in love with your phone in your hand. It was quite disgusting, to be honest. But I loved it for you. Loved it for Buckley, too, a little. You’re sabotaging your own happiness because your trauma tries to tell you that whatever happened in the past will happen again. But that’s the thing. You don’t know that. If you run, you take away your chance to find out things are going to be okay. He makes you happy, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Tommy says hoarsely, feeling his throat tightening and tears gathering in his eyes. So happy.

“Then stop eating ice cream and start talking,” Lucy tells him.

Tommy swallows. She makes it sound so easy. But … “He won’t want me back now. Maybe he won’t even want to talk to me. I hurt him.”

“Just tell him the truth. Tell him what you told me. And then tell him the rest. If you don’t try, you will never know and I’m quite sure not knowing will hurt even more. Who knows. Maybe he’s already waiting. Or thinking about texting you.”

“Do you really think that's possible?” Tommy asks, surprised. He imagined a lot of scenarios. Most of them involve Evan cursing Tommy's name.

Lucy smiles at him. “I can imagine it. Come on, Tommy. I can see it in your sad wet eyes. You really do love this idiot. Don’t throw this away just like that. Don’t run away. At least try to fight for it. Because if he feels the same, he’s going to do that too.”

“I’m scared,” Tommy admits, glancing at his phone. Scared of the reaction hurting even more than this does.

Lucy rubs his back. “I know. But you can’t let fear control your life. Fear is a liar. And if you listen to it, it’s always going to take you back to the past.”

She gets up, collecting the empty boxes and putting them into a plastic bag. “Text him. Or call him. Don’t wait too long.” She wrinkles her nose. “And please stop playing hibernating hedgehog soon. I need you back in the cockpit.”

Tommy manages a smile. “I will try. Thank you, Lucy.”

“Of course,” she tells him, her eyes softening.

After Lucy leaves, Tommy stares at this phone. He stares at it for a long time. Then, he takes it in his hand and opens his chat with Evan. His heart clenches when he reads their last conversation. Feels like that happened an eternity ago. Before any of them even thought about a breakup. Because … they really were happy, right?

Tommy stares at the screen and he starts to think this is the scariest thing he’s ever been thinking about doing. Because what if Evan simply ignores or blocks him? Or … what if Evan just tells him to go to hell? Fear comes in waves, dark and cold. But then Tommy remembers that he really does not have much to lose. And he has at least one friend who will be there to collect the pieces when he breaks apart completely. He should get a grip and take a leap of faith. He messed this up. Maybe he can fix it. Maybe.

Tommy takes a deep breath and starts to type.

(AO3 link)

[literatureloverx]

hi! it's 🍰 anon again! (or rather, 🍰 no-longer-anon)

come take a look at this pic ~

look into his eyes ... just look into his eyes <3 i believe this panel was from one of the more recent chapters ...

knowing that sango sensei puts lots of thought and symbolism into official art and facial expressions , do you think his eyes here hold symbolism?

and yes !! i've been fine. i'm oscillating between laziness and productivity rn hahaha. and i'm sure that lots of people share your interpretations for fedya !! he is such an amazing character and a lot of us just want to. dissect him.

Essentially, this was me, with every fibre of my being, when I first saw Fyodor:

When I see someone for the first time (even if they are a fictional character—but my husband is, of course, far more than just fictional), the first thing I notice is their eyes and gaze.

From the moment I saw him, I was utterly captivated by how enigmatic he was—yet somehow fragile. His gaze held an unfathomable depth, one that I instinctively knew was rooted in buried emotions and deeply held convictions. There was a subtle madness in his eyes, a haziness unlike anything I’ve ever encountered in another character. To me, his eyes are windows to his soul, revealing the immeasurable depths of his inner suffering and loneliness—his ceaseless struggle with himself.

So few truly recognise the immense weight of the pain he carries or the torment he has already endured.

I believe his eyes hold significant symbolism— as I’ve already mentioned, they are hazy. In BSD, a character’s moral perception of themselves is often reflected in the lightness or darkness of their eyes. For instance, Akutagawa’s pitch-black eyes symbolise his view of himself as morally corrupt.

(BSD spoilers!)

Fyodor’s eyes, on the other hand, are hazy—not dark, but only truly light in rare moments when he is entirely truthful about what he is saying (such as in the panel where he tells Fukuzawa about the war).

This suggests that Fyodor is aware his actions are not wholly righteous, but he justifies them by believing the ends outweigh the means.

Another interpretation might relate to his alleged ability to take over other bodies, possibly blending their consciousness or moral alignment with his own, resulting in the hazy, blurred quality of his eyes. However, I’m less inclined to support this theory, as it feels less coherent to me personally.

I’m so glad to hear that you’re feeling good, my dear. ♥️ I’m sure many people share my interpretations in their own way, but I’ve never quite come across anyone who expresses them in the same structure or perspective as I do. There was always something missing in other takes, but recently, I’ve had more luck finding like-minded people here.

I wish you all the best with your productivity! (Unfortunately, I’m not the best at taking a healthy approach to just “getting things done,” so I’ll spare you the usual encouragement, haha. But I’m confident you’ll do wonderfully! ♥️)

Also, I must mention—I’ve seen your username a few times before, likely because you either liked or replied to my posts, and I’ve always thought it was such a pretty username.♥️

[cosmicjoke]

Hi, Cosmic! I was considering this scene from a Levi story on AO3 which I had read a while ago, where it described his life in the Underground before he met Furlan (maybe it was one of yours, I'm not certain). It talked of how he would often go days without speaking at all, and ultimately delved into his loneliness and how he hadn't realized how alone he'd been until he wasn't. I had also read recently an analysis stating that Levi's attachment style would be fearful-avoidant due to how he grew up, which, I mean, makes perfect sense.

Thus the combination made me wonder: How do you think Levi felt when he and Furlan moved in together? Did it trigger his abandonment issues in any way, letting Furlan in emotionally when his last relationship (that we know of) was with Kenny? Given the concept of attachment styles, Levi was probably both distant and reliant with him, so how do you think Furlan reacted to this?

Hmm, that could have been one of my stories, haha, I've definitely written a few stories (all of which remain incomplete, lol) about Levi's life Underground. I feel like it's a period in Levi's life that's just ripe for exploration, but very few people seem particularly interested in writing about it, for whatever reason.

I know I do explore that idea in "This Life, After", of Levi being sort of functionally mute because he gets so little social interaction, and I think that's a pretty fair assumption to make about him growing up, especially after Kenny left him. As far as we know, Levi didn't have a single friend until he met Furlan, and we know, from the extra stories included in the "No Regrets" manga that Levi met Furlan when he was essentially full grown. I've talked before also, pretty extensively, about how it seems very likely that Levi had no social interaction with other children growing up, even when living with his mother. I don't know if you've read my analysis posts on this, but I'll link you to them here:

Anyway, I'm not a psychologist, so I can't really speak to what specific attachment style Levi may or may not have. In truth, nobody, even an accredited and practicing psychologist could definitively diagnose Levi with any, specific mental disorder or condition, because of course he's a fictional character, lol. But I don't think you need to be a psychologist to make accurate or educated guesses about what sort of mental health issues Levi might be suffering from. For example, I think it's fairly obvious that Levi is suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder, because it would seem to me nearly impossible for him not to have been deeply traumatized by the experiences, not only in his childhood, but as an adult too, and I say that because of Levi's obvious emotional sensitivity. He feels things very keenly and I think more deeply than any other character in the series. That well of emotional depth, along with his immense empathic nature I think renders Levi more susceptible to emotional pain, and more easily given to grief over the loss of his comrades/friends/family than even an average person. I just think Levi feels things more deeply than is common. I think that's also what gives Levi his exceptional emotional intelligence, his ability to accurately read people and understand who they are at their cores.

To get to your specific question, it's an interesting one.

Levi is definitely someone who I think is fearful of getting close to others out of a fear of losing them, knowing the pain it causes him when he, seemingly inevitably, does. No doubt that finds its roots in Levi's earliest childhood experiences. People often talk about Kenny's abandonment of Levi (with good reason), but I rarely see it talked about how Levi's mother, in a sense, also abandoned him. Not intentionally, the way Kenny did, but the fact remains, Levi's mother died and left him alone, which very nearly led to Levi's own death. I think that absolutely must have had an impact on Levi and caused an expectation in him from very early on of abandonment. Levi couldn't have been more than five years old when his mother died, and those are obviously very important developmental years for a child. You add to that Kenny's abandonment, and it seems pretty likely to me that, yes, Levi has a fear of abandonment by the people he loves.

What's interesting about Levi, though, is that even with this fear, and even in his efforts to keep his distance from people in order to spare himself the emotional and mental distress of losing them, I think Levi's higher level of empathy and compassion renders him incapable of escaping that emotional pain, even when he doesn't know a person well, even when he's intentionally kept away from them. I've spoken numerous times of how Levi shows the same level of care and concern, and makes just as much of an effort to save the lives of people he doesn't know or doesn't know well as the ones he does know well and is close to. He even extends that same level of care and concern toward people who have been actively hostile toward him, such as the merchants in Trost who badger and bully him over the failures of the Survey Corps, to the point of even personally insulting him, or in "No Regrets", we see Levi go out of his way to save the lives of soldiers who have both endangered his own and actively mistreated and been cruel to him. We see Levi do this with Dieter, during the Female Titan arc. Despite Dieter's cruelty toward Levi, calling him a heartless monster, Levi gives him Petra's badge and tells him it was Ivan's. He gives up his own comfort to someone who's been nothing but hostile toward him, and who would have rightly been in for a scolding and even punishment for endangering the lives of the unit. But instead of being unkind in return, Levi shows Dieter nothing but compassion.

All this to say, I think even when Levi isn't emotionally or personally close to people, he still feels the weight of their loss as if he were, and he still empathizes with and understands their emotions and thought process as if he were. There's a part in "No Regrets" in which Furlan laments that they had better hurry up and complete their mission to get the documents from Erwin before Levi and Isabel start genuinely considering "dedicating their hearts" to the Survey Corps. I've talked about how this clearly indicates that Furlan is aware of Levi's tendency to get attached to people, even when he's actively trying not to. Levi, for example, doesn't want to teach his combat techniques to any of the other SC soldiers because he knows if he does and then they end up getting killed, he'll hold himself responsible for it. Again, this is indicative of Levi's tendency to become emotionally attached and involved with people, even those he doesn't know well, to the point he would feel responsible for their lives, and responsible for protecting those lives, even when, again, he doesn't know them well, and even when he hasn't been treated particularly well by them. We have to remember, upon entering the SC, none of the other soldiers showed any particular friendliness toward Levi, outside of Hange. He was even faced with pretty blatant classism from some of them, and plain resentment. But he still knew himself well enough to know that he was already beginning to feel responsible for their lives. Even with being treated as an outsider by them, he still isn't able to keep himself detached from them. We see this play out too, in the story's climax, when Levi makes his choice to go after Erwin alone. He makes the choice with full consideration of what he thinks will be best, not just for Furlan and Isabel, but for Flagon and the rest of their squad. He's equally concerned for their well being, and determines that all of them will have a better chance of survival if Furlan and Isabel stays with them. Again, Flagon has been nothing but hostile toward Levi through the entire story, but he still cares about Flagon's life.

So basically, to get to your specific question, lol, I think Levi likely became very attached to Furlan fairly quickly. There's even a similarity to Levi's relationship with Furlan and what I laid out above, in terms of how Levi even cares about people who have been unkind to him. We know from one of the extra stories that Furlan first met Levi by attempting to entrap him and force him through physical assault to join his gang. So Furlan's first interaction with Levi was one of deception and an attempt to use him against his will. We learn later from a conversation Levi is having with another scout that Levi saved his life from his own gang, when they eventually turned on him. This is consistent with how we see Levi make just as much effort to help and show just as much concern for the lives of people who have previously been unkind to him in some way or even attempted to hurt him in some way. Levi saves Furlan's life, despite Furlan trying to deceive Levi and force him into a situation against his will.

So I imagine, once Levi became actual friends with Furlan, and moved in with him, at that point, I imagine the bond between them was incredibly deep and unbreakable. I think over time Furlan would have begun to recognize that Levi's aloof demeanor and lack of expression wasn't at all indicative of the actual depth of attachment and care he felt toward Furlan himself. I always say that I think Levi's relationship with both Furlan and Isabel was more than simple friendship. I think Levi viewed the both of them as his family, and objectively speaking, I think he was probably closer to the two of them than anyone else in his life. Part of that, I think, would come from the fact they were his first, actual friends, and also because they were the only people Levi ever knew and was close to who were from the same world he was. I think Levi likely was fearful at first when he first moved in with Furlan that he might lose him in some way, that Furlan might leave him, or be killed, etc... But I also think it's a testament to Levi's resilience and open heart that, despite having already been abandoned by the two most important people in his life up to that point, he still allowed this new person into his life and allowed himself to grow deeply close to him. I think, also, that's a product of, again, Levi's inability to close his heart off to people, due to his immense empathy. Even though Levi is afraid of losing people and wants to shield himself against the pain of that, he continually fails at remaining detached, because he just naturally cares too much about other people to ever, truly separate himself from them or freeze them out. He's never been able to not care. I think Furlan probably understood that pretty quickly about Levi, and as I already said, he probably understood that Levi's aloof demeanor and seeming distance didn't actually mean he didn't care. I think Furlan understood that Levi would protect him no matter what and would always stay by his side. Isayama even said Levi is extremely loyal. He isn't ever going to abandon anyone himself. So basically, I think Furlan understood Levi, after a time, and would have recognized that Levi's appearance of apathy in truth was just his way of dealing with the fact he actually feels and cares more deeply than anyone. He only keeps his emotions held inside so he can remain reliable to himself and others, because if he allowed himself to fully feel what he was actually feeling in any, given moment, it would be overwhelming. People that know Levi truly know this about him. And so Furlan definitely would have realized that.

Anyway, I hope that answers your question, lol. That got WAY too long. I can never seem to keep my answers short.

[shiut]

Both danganronpa and even rain code have this underlying but incredibly persisting theme of the cognitive dissonance between one's personality vs their own nature that I can't help but think about a lot.

In my head I tend to call it the "Leon paradox" because he's the first and most obvious character I think of in regards to this, though he's far from being the only one. Despite being an effortlessly talented baseball prodigy, he dislikes doing it and his actual passion is becoming a musician. However, he's pigeonholed into doing something he doesn't enjoy simply because he's good at it and it's a means to an end since it's his only way of getting anywhere.

This gets expanded in dr2. Imposter's dissatisfaction with having to always be someone else. Akane not caring about being a gymnast much at all aside from the perks it gets her. Nagito's disdain for his luck talent that brings him constant misery while also acknowledging that it's the one thing about himself that he can count on the most.

It even becomes a focal point with Hajime, who did everything to fight his nature of lacking a talent. However, Chiaki points out that it's the fact that he has no specific talent that gives him more freedom than any of the ultimates that he admires. Turned out, gaining every talent put Hajime into his own prison, and it's his loss of personality that made him essentially useless.

Even in V3 you have Kaede who actually loves her talent so much that she feels like it's an obsession that affects her ability to socialize normally. Kokichi also seems to have brief moments where he acknowledges that his talent is a huge barrier to being able to actually connect with people and causes his loneliness, but decides that it's a compulsion that's too troublesome to change so he just accepts it.

Shuichi sticks out to me when it comes to this theme. He's extremely good at detective work and will often do it on impulse regardless of reward. However, even just stumbling on his first murder case and solving it before the police could even touch it, he could not cope with the results of the person he'd affected. His emotional sensitivity traumatized him into being avoidant, even using a hat as a literal blinder. He was prepared to die in the first trial in fear of revealing the truth. His compulsion to do detective work even kind of ruined Kokichi and Kaito's plot in ch5, as he got so ahead of himself with revealing the truth that just kind of blurted everything out before realizing that he shouldn't have. His compulsion with detective work even seems to make him comparatively calmer and more focused during investigations than the other protagonists, despite easily being the emotionally weakest-willed out of all of them. He repeatedly keeps falling back into his talent despite the emotional toll it has on him because he just can't help himself. He kind of acts as an example of one of the reasons why Kyoko was trained to be emotionally detached.

Jin actually is very much like Shuichi. He tries to actively avoid detective work because he despises the emotional detachment required for it. You wouldn't even know that he's actually really good at it, but you see glimpses into his skill in the novels where he'll end up figuring things out before even Kyoko does on more than one occasion. I can talk a lot about Jin, but I do get the feeling that one of the reasons why he works at Hope's Peak is because he knew more about what would end up happening there than he let on. He probably could have gotten quite a few things done if he wasn't so insistent on fighting his own nature as a detective.

Very honorable mention to Yui, who turned down an invitation to Hope's Peak for her high-jumping talent in order to pursue her passion as a very mid detective. She might've even lived if she went to Hope's Peak because I'm pretty sure she would've graduated by the time of the tragedy, but at least she died in the most based way possible by rejecting them.

And of course, Junko is a prime example of the detrimental effect of talent. Because of her analytical abilities, she can practically guess everything that's going to happen. Her obsession with despair is a desperate attempt at being mentally stimulated in a society that has let the status quo stagnate to such a critical degree that it's the reason why the very concept of talent had been rotted to this point. Sorry to Kodaka, who has repeatedly said that Junko is meant to be a truly evil villain with no motivation, but he did kind of accidentally give her a motivation in dr0 where we're shown for a fact that without her memories and ability to analyze, she's relatively normal and tame. That is her nature, just a kind of weird girl who wants to be a tradwife and go grow corn somewhere. However, I think it can be argued that what is meant by "pure evil with no motivation" is that she doesn't have any sort of tangible tragic backstory. You can even say it's not her analyst ability alone that caused her madness, since there's plenty of normal non-world-ending analysts. It may simply be that her personality happened to mix terribly with her talent, and that's the nature of what makes her pure evil, because both of those aspects of her are part of her nature that she can not (nor does she even want to) control despite the misery it causes her. She simply learned to love the misery.

Makoto himself is very clear about being bitter about his luck. For the most part, what's apparent to him is that it causes him constant trouble and the good that it actually does for him is so subtle and disjointed that he doesn't even realize it's his luck. However, I think what makes him different from people like Nagito or Junko is his personality. He doesn't obsess like they do, and his optimism makes him bounce back easily. I think his luck even feeds into his personality and, inverse to Junko, it's the unpredictability of his luck that makes him hopeful and optimistic. Since he never knows what's going to happen to him, he had to develop a way to roll with the punches.

The aspect of personality vs ability also carries over to rain code. The master detectives are people who have innate psychic abilities that are seemingly based on their nature, and then it gets refined and specialized based on their personality. Not only does their personality help to refine these powers, but you see that their personalities and abilities often have detrimental impacts on each other.

Halara can't see living things in their postcognition because they aren't good at looking at people. Pucci's ability makes her hearing so sensitive that it's at least partially caused her emotional detachment. Melami not only likes fashion so much that she must wear the clothes of someone to use her power, but she also has to actually like the clothes too. Vivia is constantly fatigued and has depressive tendencies due his tenuous attachment to his spirit.

Former Number One/Makoto are a great example of this sort of destructive feedback loop of cognitive dissonance. You can infer that their empathy and obsession with helping people is what gives them the ability to use coalescence and share anyone's abilities, yet it's the fact that they can do anything that makes them feel like they must do everything. Ironically, the fact that they've convinced themselves that they must do everything makes their ability essentially useless because they end up only working alone. As a result, Former Number One became detached with every emotion except for his obsession, and it's what caused Makoto to ultimately spiral.

[tyrantisterror]

Wife Goals: Morrigan

February. Intense Loneliness. Must gush about fictional women as poor substitute for an actual relationship. Gushed about Harley Quinn last time. Gush about someone else now. Must fill void in heart.

You know what's a great at temporarily filling the gaping void in your heart? RPGs! Well, RPGs with romance subplots, anyway, not all of them have those I suppose. But a lot of them do, and boy howdy do they scratch the itch for a while! ...a short while. Then it comes back. Dear god it comes back.

But the really good ones scratch that itch real good, and few have scratched it as well for me as Dragon Age Origins. DAO does a great job of hooking you in - depending on your species and class choice, you'll get a different origin story for your main player character that gives you a very personal stake in the conflict to follow. The game makes its early tutorials personalized in this regard, with them doing the dual purpose of teaching you how to use your character's unique abilities while also establishing the life your character has been living till now and how the actions of one of the many villains in the story's overarching plot will completely blow it up to Hell. It's very good, gets you invested in your character really quick, and makes you eager to build something new from the ashes of what came before.

Which you then immediately get a chance to do - you have one last tutorial mission of sorts, a small little exploration and fetch quest with three other new recruits for the organization of monster-slaying international warriors you've joined called the Grey Wardens. Your first companion is one of those fellow recruits - the other two are, well... they're surplus to requirements, narratively speaking. But that's fine, because in that fetch quest you meet the second companion you can recruit.

Specifically, you meet Morrigan, the witch of the wilds. And she is so, SO key to what makes DAOwork.

Regardless of which origin story you picked on character creation, it will show you an important fraction of the setting for the game as a whole. You'll learn about one of the hierarchies of this society - whether it's the caste system of the dwarves, the way elves are either forced to live in an increasingly shrinking wilderness or treated as second-class citizens in the cities, how mages are treated as inherently dangerous time-bombs who have to be institutionalized for the good of "normal" people, and how the human nobility are constantly scheming to take each other out for a power grab. Shit's fucked in a lot of ways, and that's BEFORE you find out about the supernatural monster apocalypse that's brewing underground.

And so it's notable when you meet Morrigan, a witch and, more importantly, a person who lives completely separated from society and all its hierarchies. You, the player, have just been introduced to these systems, and are surrounded at first by people who treat them as immutable truths, and may already be internalizing that This Is Just How It Is Here. But then, at the end of this very final tutorial level, you meet this strange, goth-as-hell witch who immediately starts looking at those systems and saying, "You realize those rules are dumb as hell, right?" Because, like you the player, she didn't grow up in this world, and she, like you the player, can see that Shit's Fucked actually.

This is not to say that Morrigan is some super-enlightened being - she is, in fact, also the product of a horrible abusive hierarchy, just one that's a lot more small and personalize. Morrigan, you find out, is the daughter of Flemeth, who's more or less the setting's equivalent of Baba Yaga, i.e. the archetypal supremely powerful wicked witch in the woods. And like the daughters of the Baba Yaga in Slavic folklore, Morrigan's relationship with her mother is... well, strained in ways that you'd expect for a woman whose mother is an infamous immortal folklore witch.

Flemmeth is a hermit and a misanthrope who views the world as being red in tooth in claw - the strong survive and the weak perish, so you have to be as strong as possible and accept that the weak are meant to die. There is no room in the strong for pity, mercy, or affection - only ruthless self-interest. This is the philosophy Flemmeth believes in, and it's one she's forced into Morrigan as well, and which Morrigan is quick to parrot at all times.

Morrigan has a... mixed reputation in the DAO fandom. A lot of people hate her because, well, she has been taught to believe in a ruthless "might makes right" philosophy, and as such frequently gets pissy when you do, you know, hero shit in your game about saving the world. It was so talked about that Bioware actually sold "Morrigan Disapproves" shirts to play on how, well, Morrigan disapproves of a lot of actions that seem like what you, the player, should OBVIOUSLY do.

And, like, I'm not going to argue that she's right in most of these circumstances. You should help the people of Redcliffe, you should save children from being possessed by demons, you should stick your neck out for people in need. I am a fan of heroes doing hero shit even and especially when it inconveniences them - I am one of those lame players whose wish fulfillment fantasy is "let me be nice and helpful to as many people as possible."

But, like... the conflict between those philosophies is what makes the relationship you develop with Morrigan so damn great. Morrigan is one of four romance options in DAO, and she's one of the quickest to propose you and her begin an affair. She explicitly stipulates that it's a physical thing only, though - stress relief, not a sign of, like, love and affection, because she doesn't believe in love and affection, those are feelings weak people have, and she's definitely not weak! She's strong, her mommy told her so!

So let's say you say yes, because she's a smoking hot goth girl and you're not going to say no to that. Sure, she's a bit ruthless and can be a buzzkill when you're doing Hero Shit, but she's still very polite to you and can be sweet in her own vampy sort of way. And, like, sometimes she makes pretty good points when criticizing the world you live in! Morrigan is one of the only characters who criticizes the inhumane treatment of mages in civilized society - your only other spellcaster companion actually thinks the cruel treatment of mages like herself is necessary, because she's fully internalized the bigotry against herself. Morrigan is cold, but she's not always wrong. There are times when she challenges the world and is correct to do so.

And, well, as you go along and develop your relationship, Morrigan starts to get... attached. She initially claims she's fine with you sleeping around, but backtracks if you actually do - claiming, of course, that she's fine, there's nothing personal, go ahead and sleep with someone else, she's sick of you too actually! (Note: I know this only from youtube clips, I never cheat on my video game wives, not even in alternate playthroughs.) When you get deeper into the relationship, she actually pulls back on affectionate gestures - as if she's scared of what she's feeling about this TOTALLY CASUAL fling you have.

You eventually get to her personal quest, which involves "killing" her immortal mother after you find out that Flemmeth kinda sorta totally plans on stealing Morrigan's body for herself once Morrigan gets strong enough (immortal witches aren't commonplace you know), essentially making Morrigan less a daughter and more, like, livestock to be used in her mother's eyes. When you actually go through with it in one of the toughest optional boss fights of the game, Morrigan's reaction is bafflement. You did all that? For her? Just to keep her around?

She cracks and admits that she only started a relationship to make you her protector - that it was self preservation, nothing more. She's so guilty about what she's done, about how you've suffered on her behalf, and most of all, on how she cares about you now because of it. She doesn't want to say what's obviously true: she loves you, and love is a weakness, and that makes her weak, not strong, and she's terrified of what it means for you and for her.

And you have to tell her the truth that she's really known for a long time but refused to admit: love is not a weakness. Love is a strength. And she tried to argue against it, but she finally concedes. She can't bear not loving you.

The relationship you form with Morrigan is one where you and her challenge each other, constantly. She disapproves, you disapprove, but you need each other, and you both have something to learn from each other. It's not a case of Morrigan becoming good so much as it is her slowly realizing that goodness was in her all along - that as much as she claimed to the contrary, she really is a loving person at heart.

I have a lot of issues with the Dragon Age sequels, but one thing I will say for them is that they allowed Morrigan to retain her growth from Origins. She remains haughty and ruthless, but she also has a kind, compassionate, and selfless streak that was always there in DAO, but had to be brought to the surface kicking and screaming.

Like, I've played a LOT of RPGs where you romance people. Because I'm a sad lonely person who needs to fill the gaping void inside me, you know. But out of all of them, there are few romances where "I love you" hits harder than when Morrigan says it, because you BOTH fought like hell for her to have the courage to say those words, and you know damn well how much she means it.

[likealittleheartbeat]

hello !!

i was wondering, do you know any other characters like aang from other shows/movies/books? or maybe, just his theme of radical kindness appearing in other stories?

i've been missing aang, and it would be nice to find other representations of such a fun and warm personality like his.

ps.: your blog is like, fantastic. truly.

🥰🥰🥰🥰 This is the best ask I’ve ever received!!! Depictions of radical kindness in media is a special interest of mine—not exaggerating. So I’ve done my best to make a list of rec’s, just tv, from most formally similar to ATLA to least, with a short description for each.

1. Fruits Basket (2019)

"My mom told me, it's better to trust people than to doubt them. She said that people aren't born with kind hearts. When we're born, all we have are desires for food and material things. Selfish instincts, I guess. But she said that kindness is something that grows inside of each person's body, but it's up to us to nurture that kindness in our hearts. That's why kindness is different for every person."

An anime orphan whose established memory of the kindness by which her family raised her ends up transforming and liberating a whole clan from an intergenerational curse that enforced an abusive hierarchy all within a show that has a deeply queer subtext, beautifully complex plotting and character development that due to its zen influence refuses to demonize anyone or any perspective wholly, AND a straight romance you can actually root for!? Nothing comes closer to ATLA thematically than this show. While the lead Tohru Honda is the biggest representative of radical kindness, the character of Momiji Sohma with his complex purity, idealism, and gender performance is one of the closest you'll find to Aang in any media.

2. Mob Psycho 100 (2016-2023)

"The truth behind one's charm is kindness. Just be a good person, that's all."

Mob Psycho 100 explores a core tenant of ATLA's critique of imperialism and power: greatness and perfection are overrated. They both ask the question about what to do for the world with one's gifts if that's the case. How can one be both normal and prodigious at the same time? The satirical comedy and style of this anime, which deconstruct a lot of the shonen genre tropes, are pretty distinct from ATLA, but when ATLA arrived on the airwaves, it was a pretty massive break from tradition in Western animation, and for both of these series, that difference of style is tied to the message of the show about the experience and acceptance of difference.

3. Natsume's Book of Friends (2012-present)

"As I encountered kindness, I wanted to be kind myself."

The anime, Natsume's Book of Friends and ATLA both depict the challenge and necessity of facing abandonment, loss, and a deep-seated loneliness with kindness and gratitude despite the persistence of grief. Both take a deeply spiritual view--even a responsibility--of this experience that demands a compassion for all beings including those who intend to do harm. Natsume, an orphan shuffled between houses who is one of the few people who can see spirits called youkai, inherits his maligned grandmother's book of yokai names, becoming a target for them in the process. He hides all of this from everyone in his life, and even five season in, still has trouble admitting to the one person who understands him when he is struggling and needs help. The gentle and light tone papers over a profoundly honest representation of attachment trauma and the wisdom of compassion that develops as a tool to cope with it.

4. Hunter x Hunter (2011-2014)

"You can do whatever you want to hide your feeling. You still have a heart."

If you think that "Radical Kindness" is by definition non-violent, then this show is either not for you or going to change your mind. Gon, the protagonist of HxH, like Momiji mentioned in Fruits Basket, is another rare character whose naivete and optimism are treated with respect. He is allowed to suffer, to be wrong, to be stupid, and to inspire others away from their own cynicism with the persistence of his beliefs nevertheless. But HxH is a show that integrates the most violent aspects of the world (organized crime, capitalistic competition and privileging, state-sanctioned brutality, pure sadism) with its examination of human potential for goodness. And even within a list of shows deeply inspired by spirituality and religions, this show is abundant with religious references as it seeks out meaning, balance, and an ethic for modern experience. On top of that, it ranks with ATLA for the depth and relevance of its magic system to its themes, plus its got gay subtext out the wazoo!

5. Mushishi (2005-2014)

“Make sure to remember, every person and place has a right to exist. It is true for you too, the entire world, as a whole, is your home."

Elegaic, episodic, compassionate, and strange, with some of the best short story-telling of all time, Mushishi is the story of a medicine-man who travels the Japanese countryside helping people deal with the spirits that accompany the little trials and tragedies of life that cling to our minds long after they're passed. The protagonist, Gingko, and the show itself takes the approach of restraint to observe these problems fully and come to a conclusion that's taoist in its balance and acceptance of reality--"Eyes unclouded by hate" as Miyazaki/Gaiman would have it. Each episode is like a therapy session arguing for you to choose to live even as the heaviest burdens sit on your chest.

6. Reservation Dogs (2021-2023)

"See...love doesn't have to be received, it can just be."

We're finally out of the animes, and moving away from the zen and shinto approach into some other options. Reservation Dogs' indigenous humanism was groundbreaking, bringing in distinctly modern American realities (with the kind of true-to-life details only a an on-location shoot could offer) with Native beliefs about ancestry, community, and connection to the land, while rarely feeling preachy. Instead, it's just fucking hilarious and casually heartbreaking. Four friends on the edge of graduating high school on a reservation in Oklahoma try to figure out what to do with their lives after their plans to go to California get abruptly messed up. Radical kindness as a concept often gets focused on accepting the enemy but what about accepting the weird stoner uncle who farts all the time and won't talk about his years in the army. I think that might be a more important goal of radical kindness, in truth, if we are being asked to look and accept reality for what it is, because growing comfortable with disappointment and the mundane let's us live without the relentless striving that drives perfectionism.

7. Skam (2015-2017)

"The second you start looking for hate, you find it. And when you find hate, you start hating."

A Norwegian teen drama that understood internet culture better than any show before or since, four season-long romance plots better than any romance film from that decade, and a masterfully constructed exhortation about leaning into failures of connection to build deeper compassion rather than demonize another person or group. Each season focused on a specific character within a high-school friend group, emphasizing the limited scope of subjective experience, and had them confront the challenges of opening up to others fully. And even when they return into the scenes with new protagonists, their lives weren't sorted perfectly, reflecting how resolving a single romantic plot point would not resolve life. The impact of this low-budget public-television web series (!!!) will be felt for years (it's already been referenced by Netflix juggernauts like Sex Education and Young Royals), but we're not likely to see something that juggles political themes, heartfelt characterization, realistic dialogue, and meta-commentary (it flashed its own hater and fan comments across the screen in the last episode!!) in such a obsession-inducing package anytime soon.

7. Boys Like Boys (2023)

"Because I have always been someone who hates myself, I don't have the courage to face it. Running away is my only option...What if I give myself one more chance to be brave?"

So how can a reality show make it onto a list of radically kind tv series, especially a dating show!? Well, when that reality dating show casts people who radiate warmth, vulnerability, and respect and seem to have the kind of chemistry that most scripted shows can't even manage, it's a good start. But then, when they elevate that cast with a format that addresses the cruelty of dating, elimination formats, and broader societal exclusion (an important consideration for a gay dating show), it offers a new model for future shows. Boys Like Boys did this when mid-season (spoiler alert) they had contestants vote out a contestant, only to provide the contestants with a vote in which they could retain a contestant who they didn't want to leave. In fact, many of the contestants asked if they could abstain from making a vote that would eliminate a constestant and were allowed to. The final result left one contestant, Jia-Hang, up for elimination--he had voted for himself to be eliminated, and many contestants, recognizing his reticence to continue on the program, didn't want to force him against his will to stay. Then, looking around at nearly the whole cast sobbing, even apologizing to him for not providing him enough support, Jia-Hang chooses to stay on. This is just one of many heart-warming authentic moments in the show that illustrate the vital influence of kindness to impact the trajectory of our hearts.

8. Joe Pera Talks With You (2018-2021)

"I can help you reach things. I can tend the garden. The different hours we keep are a good thing. And when they overlap, I can offer companionship and entertainment."

So much has been written about this show's groundbreaking kind approach, I'm going to quote instead: "It can be difficult to convey how a TV show airing on Cartoon Network’s provocative nighttime programming block Adult Swim can evoke almost nostalgic feelings of kind-heartedness. The premise of Joe Pera Talks With You is so simple as to almost be beside the point: Comedian Joe Pera plays a lightly fictionalized version of himself as a sweet Michigander, a middle-school chorus teacher with small and specific passions. Joe likes breakfast food, obscure trivia, beans, trips to the grocery store, and his grandma. He greets every day with a contented smile, stands beneath a pale blue sky, packs a balanced lunch that contains no surprises. (A turkey sandwich with cheese and a tomato, a banana, some trail mix, and as a treat, some cookies.) Joe, more than anything, is satisfied. His greatest joy is sharing these small pleasures with you, the viewer who exists on the other side of the fourth wall he has cleanly dismantled, often speaking quietly to the camera like he’s sharing a secret, just between you two. That he’s talking “with” and not “to” you is a crucial distinction in the show’s title: Joe never lectures nor rhapsodizes. Instead, he waxes poetic about what he loves and who he cares for and how he leads his life, telling his stories from a vulnerable position of welcoming you into his daily existence.” --“A Great Comedy About Being Good,” Allegra Frank for Vox

9. Anne with an E (2017-2019)

"Her life was not short on challenges, and still she held no grudges, believing instead that grace is perennial like the green, green grass."

While maligned for not being the 1980s version, this Netflix adaptation of Anne of Green Gables takes what many have read as an autistic subtext and made it text, giving Anne a performative quality that pushes a lot of the audience into the same irritation that the characters of Avonlea feel for Anne at first, and, thus, requires its audience to persevere toward the same kindness that Anne inspires in her adoptive mother figure, Marilla, among others, which is much more rewarding than simply identifying with Anne right away. In so doing, it enhances the development of its broader approach to acceptance--an approach in its insistence on the requirement of a community of kindredness (see Sebastian's excitement at finding out about the black community in "The Bog") that is much more rigorous than many other shows will cop to. Expanding far beyond literal adaptation into queer, black, and indigenous characters, without disguising history or disparaging the thematic seed of grace at the heart of the novels, Anne with an E imagines what it meant and what it might still mean to build real joyful community with others through kindness.

10. Little Bear (1995-2003)

"Interesting."

A childhood favorite that disguised in its simplicity a wide-openness to the world and an acceptance of different natures. While most child shows emphasize kindness, few do so with as much patience, wonder, and generosity extended to its viewers. Little Bear is a curious kid who goes on adventures in the woods around his house that can turn into games or small imagined experiences. He is sometimes with his friends Cat, Duck, Hen, Owl, and Emily, whose personalities, along with Little Bear's, bring about small tensions in their games that ultimately resolve, if not independently, then with the help of Mother Bear or Father Bear, who give each other knowing glances about the expected childhood behaviors. This is the first show that initially taught me to observe things while withholding my judgment, that first step of radical kindness.

12. The Andy Griffith Show (1960-1968)

"The key to happiness is finding joy in the simple things."

One really old and somewhat controversial throwback for my last entry. If you have concerns about a sheriff character representing radical kindness, I would encourage you to start with the third episode of season 3 where Andy, the sheriff in question, has to explain to the new mayor why he doesn't carry a gun and lets prisoners go to gather their crops. There have been some fantastic pieces written about the complexities of this show's bucolic fantasy and Southerners (of all races) attachment to it, but they all acknowledge a type of humanistic and deceptively simple virtue found in Mayberry that audiences long to witness, if not emulate themselves. It's a morality that resists the "hyperactive zealotry" and bureaucracy that the show satirizes through Barney Fife (along with guest characters like the new mayor) and instead emphasizes the understanding that one can have for each individual and the trickstery middle paths that one can find to address conflict.

[sereonhardware]

SEREON DROP MORE HEIMDALL LORE/ART AND MY LIFE IS YOUS‼‼‼/nf

Unfortunately no art but Heimdallr lore will be yours!

So Heimdallr is a son of the nine daughters of Ægir, no Gerðr though. He is not a son of Odin in my series just a son of the nine waves.

I’m still potentially thinking of a storyline of how Heimdallr got into the Æsir? But I do have a bit of lore on how he got his powers and stuff. For one, my Heimdallr does indeed have horns, he usually hides them when they’re not in use but his right horn is dehorned/cut off due to him sacrificing it to get the power he has. Essentially cutting it off himself and handing it to Mimir

Heimdallr is not a very social person, he’s a chronic introvert that somehow also hates being alone. He has a few friends, namely Tyr, Freyja, Freyr and Thor but their visits are few and far between, mostly them just making a one-sided conversation with him while he sometimes responds, he is listening. Tyr and Freyr do encourage him to take breaks and basically drag him out to parties and games, the pinnacle of two extroverts dragging the adopted introvert to a social event, Freyja also joins sometimes and as unexpressive as Heimdallr might look, he’s happy with them, he enjoys being with his friends and regularly looks forwards/dreads the next time they drag him out of his personal hell.

His relationship with Loki is mutually toxic, Loki and Heimdallr often meet and insult each other, Heimdallr regularly glares at Loki and Loki always laughs off happily knowing she can get the best negative reactions from Heimdallr. They absolutely hate each other and their circumstances lead them to be enemies with a bond of sorts - Heimdallr is jealous of Loki’s freedom and the ability to do as he pleases while Loki hates Heimdallr cuz of his supposed importance that’s in contrast of how much of a shut-in loser he is, just a sheep among wolves but in truth, both think lowly of each other and so highly of others, they think they’re not able to love, feel comfort or be happy but they are loved even if by a few people. When it comes to Heimdallr’s relationship with Odin, it’s mutually distant; Heimdallr likes validation and knowing that only he can do HIS job perfectly is why he always does his job even if it’s mentally and physically draining but Odin doesn’t really think of him at all, sometimes he forgets Heimdallr is there and all in all, he has no strong opinion on Heimdallr, just thinks of him as a colleague and a devoted watchman.

Heimdallr desperately craves validation, the attention of being able to do something right but that craving gets worse and worse overtime, the closer Ragnarok is the more that craving becomes just so shallow until Heimdallr breaks because he feels like he’s nothing, if Ragnarok begins and he blows that horn, he’s just nothing, he’ll die in just a few hours so what was the point of him trying to do a good job? He also wants connections but is never sure how to keep or take care of them. When he sees Tyr break down and cry after the Fenrir situation, what can he do? This is a personal moment for Tyr, Heimdallr can see every waking moment where someone close to him can break down, cry, be at their worst and does it hurt him? To feel like he can do nothing to help them? Heimdallr’s powers can explore some nice themes of loneliness, longing and despair; The desire to be somewhere, the desire to feel those feelings and the longing to live in that moment. Seeing the smiles of people who you are keeping safe by watching them, it’s a beautiful moment but he won’t be there to celebrate with them. Does the wonders of the world, how far and beautiful the realms can stretch captivate Heimdallr long enough that he forgets about who he is? Or does the sight of other people’s despair send him back into reality? I think Heimdallr wants to see the world in a positive light but just, can never really do it ever again.

On a much lighter note, Heimdallr crushes on his friends alot; This became a thing after my friend made a joke that Heimdallr crushes on anyone that stands next to him for more than 10 minutes so Freyr, Freyja, Loki (hatefully) and Tyr rotate in his brain like a blunt rotation

When he was assigned to go get Freyja’s necklace he was so excited and when he got the thing got, he came up to Freyja, soaking wet, legs shaking, puppy dog eyes, bruises and wounds everywhere there’s probably blood dripping down his face and kneels down with the necklace in hand💙He is a gentleman that lowkey wants to marry Freyja and Freyja ACTUALLY feels the same but the two never talk it out. Also Heimdallr is like 5’10, I’m not apologizing for making him really short, Freyja can pick him up like a dog

Freyr also treats Heimdallr like he’s a weird specimen he’s studying, he probably picks Heimdallr up unprompted, observes him and puts him back down and pats his head going. “Nice to see ya’ too, bud.”. Tyr tries to sit on his head while he does his job and it becomes a competition of whose legs start cramping first ORRRRR Heimdallr silently enjoying Tyr playing with his hair and horns (They are homosexuals)

My Heimdallr is also transgender + demirose pansexual… He has the tism in him somewhere and also he has IED. He has a pet ram that I gave to him cuz I thought it was cute, he sleeps standing up or just falls over like a baby owl and also he can walk on water

[itzy-bitsy-spidey]

Merlin's assistant

Pt.2. Introductions

Merlin BBC X fem!reader

"This, my dear assistant, is king Arthur Pendragon of Camelot" Merlin introduced, and the sheer joy that showed in his smile managed to drown any posible witty remark Arthur had thought of making.

"HOLD ON A SECOND" on the other hand the loudness from the girl kind of made him wish she was once again arranging bottles in silence.

"He is Arthur Pendragon, as in the Arthur Pendragon I've heard so much about these last few years?" The smile in her face could barely contain all of her exciment, if the way she was flapping her hands up and down was any type of sign. A little bit more emotion and she would surely be jumping up and down in front of him.

Merlin eyes softened at the sight of the girl and his smile went from excited to fond rather quilckly for Arthur's liking. He had just then remembered the way she had called his friend a few moments ago.

Love.

Now, Arthur might not had been the brightest one in the room, even if he would never admit it, but if something was not up between those two then he had never been dead.

So lost he had been in his own thoughts he had missed what Merlin had to say about him. But whatever it was it certaninly reassured who he was, because she looked ready to explode.

"Oh, you have to tell me about Camelot, I've asked Merlin before but with his memory we honestly never get anywhere and all he can tell me is about how you would always get in trouble, or be cursed, or how your father would be cursed, or the kingdom, or..." somehow, the girl had managed to get all of that out of her sistem in just one breath before Merlin cut her off.

"Alright, that's enough kiddo, why don't you better go look for some clothes for our guest?"

"I'm literally your age, you old man!" She complained to the warlock but nevertheless got up anf started walking away.

"No you're not, and if you were, that would make you an old man!" Merlin quiped right back at her, raising his voice so he could be heard.

"Age doesn't change gender you dumbass!" at that point the girl's voice was just that, a voice, because she had completely dissapeared from sight. Two seconds passed in silence before she finished her statement "But apparently it does make you lose braincells!"

Merlin shot a nasty look at the door she had left through, but decided against continuing fighting, and instead chose to put his attention on the very confused king.

"Sooo, who was that exactly?" Finally asked Arthur after a while of sitting in silence.

In response Merlin grabbed a chair and sat in front of his friend, his eyes flashed golden for a second and tea started preparing itself while the warlock answered the question.

"She's my assistant, helps me with things around here and in exchange she lives here where it's peaceful" he explained at the same time a cup filled with chamomile tea landed gracefully in front of Arthur.

"Your assistant? You? Have an assistant?" The tone of the king's voice sounded almost mocking, but Merlin raised both his eyebrows at him and continued.

"I don't see what you find so funny you clotpole, I was tecnically your assistant back in the day".

Something about hearing Merlin speak about them as if they had happened a long time ago hurted deep inside Arthur's chest. His heart twisted into a knot when he realized that for Merlin, for his best friend, it had truly been long ago.

Truth to be told, the blonde king had woken up that day in the lake and had just felt as if no time had gone by, as if he had just slept for a few minutes, a few hours at most.

But it hadn't been like that for Merlin, if he had understood it right it had been hundred of years of loneliness for the magic boy, hundred of years of waiting, never really knowing if he would come back.

Suddenly the idea of the girl being around Merlin didn't sit so bad with him anymore, at least he wasn't completely alone, he hoped there had been other friends for Merlin before her too, people that could have helped him carry the load that waiting for his friend might have been.

[ellana-lavellan-official]

Solas and loneliness

Years ago (around a decade ago, to be frank) I read By The Still Waters. Even though solavellan is minor pairing there, once scene gave me goosebumps and got imprinted in my memory.

“It’s not too late,” the Inquisitor said. “I’m listening.” She smiled, though it was only a slight curl at the corners of her mouth. Her clan markings had disappeared for good now. “I’ll be here all night.”

Solas fell to his knees in front of her. Fenris still could not move. He could feel the demon’s fascination. It seemed almost to be holding its breath. Solas grasped both the Inquisitor’s hands in his and bowed his head over them. “I have been so long alone,” he said, in a low voice that seemed to be picked up by the warm soft wind blowing through the garden: alone alone alone alone."

After news from game informer article

SPOILER

.

.

Solas was alone (!) all those years. This is so fucking sad. I can't help feeling for him. Imagine how miserable we was feeling all this time.

Lavellan at least had people beside her.

He has noone. And it's his choice. I'm not gonna judge him or say he should have stayed with Lavellan. I clearly don't know the rest of his story, what he went through and what's at stakes. But the sheer willpower needed to end relationship with he, when it's clear he cares for her is immensive. Considering his greatest fear is dying alone. Considering he lost one of the few companions he had (Wisdom). Considering his words to Lavellan when they met and in Crestwood.

Lavellan:  I’ve never heard of anyone going so far into the fade. That’s extraordinary. Solas: Thank you. It’s not a common field of study, for obvious reasons. Not so flashy as throwing fire or lightning. The thrill of finding remnants of a thousand-year-old dream? I would not trade it for anything.

vs

Solas: I was trying to determine some way to show you what you mean to me.

Lavellan: That’s not necessary, Solas. You’re my…

Solas: That is the question, is it not? For now, the best gift I can offer is the truth… You are unique. In all Thedas, I never expected to find someone who could draw my attention from the Fade. You have become important to me - more important than I could have imagined.

Weeks said in the past how moral implications of romance with Solas are huge. Back then I took it as confirmation that through her he realized his mistake in thinking modern people aren't real. But I think it's more that than, especially after yesterday.

He was alone for millennia, it's unknown if he ever had deeply intimate relationship with anyone. In fact, his word suggest he hasn't: before Lavellan the Fade and dreams was what he loved. And then he met her and realized he could trade it in favor of spending time with her.

What is their story, for him, is about truly loving for the first time? Opening up like never before, experiencing connection with another being on a new level. A possibility of having someone know how you truly are, not a persona, but Solas (or, more precisely, his soul. I think Solas is a name he was given. which doesn't necessarily represent him wholy) . Being cared for who he is. Being free and loved.

I so hope we will get a chance to make it better for him. I also hope spirit Cole comforted him, even though Solas likely turned him away as well.

I was positive Bioware will depict him as a leader amongst his agents, busy progressing with his plan and spreading the chaos for his opponents. I got this impression from Trespasser. Intelligent trickster, who got what he wanted by using qunari and Inquisition.

But I was wrong and I'm glad. What we got is so much sadder but also fucking beautiful. It opens a lot of possibilities to how his story will progress. Weekes is a genius. I love them.

I am this close to blocking any news to experience the game for the first time as it's released. Now that I know Inquisitor will make an appearance, I'm hopeful for meaningful wrap up to their story.

UPD

And fuck if the news don't give another spin at him watching Lavellan from the distance in her dreams. Imagine it as the only comfort and intimacy (or whisp of it, really, as he was always far away) he allowed himself since Trespasser, probably when his lonely presence in Lighthouse became too much to bear. It's so sad. I actually cried yesterday T_T

Let me love you and care for you and hug you and comfort you and protect you you stupid fucking idiot of a vhenan

[ask-postcrash-curly]

Oh, my dear... Kind Words.

I know you're tired. I know.

It's okay. Everything will be okay. And I am not going anywhere, anytime soon. I'm right here, and I will always be right here if ever you should need me. I promise you. Every step of the way. So do not apologize to me for speaking your mind - I am grateful you feel able to share your truths with me the way you have.

But I am... sorry. For how you feel about yourself. For everyone that has misguided you, and made you feel that you did not have a right to your boundaries or your emotions. You do. Being successful or well liked... it doesn't negate that. A promise to a friend does not negate that. In fact, a good friend would encourage it - not demand that you flatten yourself out for their sake. But I digress. I know you are tired.

Truthfully, I have tired myself out... trying to convince you. Watching everyone else try to convince you, too. It hurts to see you tear yourself apart so. But I am all too familiar with how deeply embedded... I can only hope to love you enough to try and make up for a lifetime of lack.

You think you are not capable of helping anyone, my darling, but that could not be further from the truth. You have helped me, every time you speak to me. That counts for something, doesn't it? Don't I matter as well? To you? I have been... alone. Very much so, for the first time in my life, recently. At times it is peaceful. Just me and the sweet birds and rye breads. But other times it can be... very lonely. My home. My cup of tea. Both so achingly empty.

... Until I heard your voice. In my head, too. Mutual balms for loneliness. Perhaps that is selfish of me? I am sure there must be others who feel the same way, though.

Whatever this odd, circumstancial "connection" here is between us - between all of us - I could not be more grateful that it was you that the universe chose. My Grant Curly. I could not have asked to want to know anyone else. If I could hold you in my arms without pain, without fear, I would never let you go. How I wish I could...

Everything will be okay, sweet pea. Regardless of whether or not you feel you are a bad man. Or a lost cause. Or small, and weak, and helpless. (You are none of these things.) Regardless. Regardless. I am here. And I love you, my dear. I do.

And... you can still call me "Mum." If you'd like to. I would be... very happy to hear that again.

[ https://open.spotify.com/track/2KfXijP1BSLYFh00Q7uVuv?si=8kMQSPVSThyWttYvgfFOaQ ]

Hey again. Good to hear from you.

Thank you. That— that means a lot. I really am grateful for you.

I don't... I don't understand how it can be fair for me to do that. I can't let my own issues get in the way of what I have to do. That's how I ended up here, yeah? ...I am, yeah. You don't know what I'd give for a few uninterrupted hours of sleep.

Oh. Hey, hey, you don't have to keep trying to convince me if I'm tiring you out. You're doing enough. I... I wouldn't say I've had a life lacking love. Got a loving family, loving friends. Though—to tell you the truth, sometimes I think that maybe the person they said they loved didn't really exist. Just who they thought I was. I don't know. I keep thinking. If Jim really was— you know— to me— if it really has been that obvious, then— Then why didn't anyone tell me? If they knew me, really knew me, why didn't anyone ever notice me falling apart or notice how he talked to me and—? That's— I'm... I'm starting to believe it was bad. Not as much as some of you have said, but... bad. But that means no one cared enough to do anything about it— or no one cared about me enough to notice. Fuck, I'm sorry, I don't mean to get all depressing.

Have I? Really? Wow. I didn't know... Of course you matter. I— I'm glad I could help somehow.

No. Not selfish. Like you said, it's... mutual. Comfort and be comforted. It's a nice arrangement. Being alone all the time is awful, but if there are so many lonely people in the world, no reason why we shouldn't find solace in each other, yeah?

And I'm grateful to have you. I— I wish for that too. Just the thought of being held and safe... Hah. Makes you want to forget you're a grown man. Touch that's nice. A real hug— being held. That sounds pretty brilliant. Thank you.

I'd really like to believe that. I really, really would. I'll try to. God, I wish I could have you here in person, as awful as that is. Thank you so much for being here for me. Love you too.

Hah. Okay. You do know I have a mother on Earth? Heheh. I think she'd like you... Mum.

...

I like the song. Thank you again.

[eighthday]

Review first season "Vigil"

Ep 3. An episode about loneliness and loss.

Although the series is shown from Amy's point of view, but in this episode, each character experiences his own trauma and deals with it in their own way. (An episode about each of us.) The pressure on Amy is starting to build up. The first attempt to find the killer came to a dead end. Amy's time on the submarine has been extended from 3 days to 3 weeks, and her pills have run out. And she let Poppy down again by promising what she couldn't deliver. After all, it was then that she realized that she would not have the opportunity to wish Poppy a happy birthday. Who rewarded her with such boundless responsibility and a sense of guilt not even for her mistakes? These downward steps, which she has taken more than once in the past, will reach a deep end and a state of revelation on her part at the end of the episode.

And then the present comes and passes familygram ❤️from Kirsten. A pleasant little thing again)

This familygram is more personal than all the others. Was Amy a little happy that the radio operator who delivered the telegram only confirmed that Amy knew about Kirsten's attitude towards her, but was afraid to admit? It is likely that Amy does not specifically reminisce about Kirsten, not understanding and doubting where they are in the present. Is this her approach in a relationship, or does she not want to hurt herself even more?

This is also one of the few times when Amy smiles sincerely. Kirsten hides behind a wish from a cat to emphasize, but not to attract the attention of other people, highlighting only three words for herself. "So do I". It's about work, but for me it's also a part of Kirsten.

Looking at this scene, I have several questions: Who are all these people except Amy and Poppy? Why are Ian's parents not at the funeral? Is Poppy being picked up by a close family friend or a social worker?(They can't be Ian's relatives, because if they were, Poppy would have stayed with them) Is there no one on Amy's side who could support her? Are they even alive or is she alone?

It's great to know that, after several previous attempts, these two have started to build a good relationship in Amy's absence)

In addition, we see a lot of photographs in many scenes that decorate Amy's home. Who enjoys taking pictures, storing them on their phone, and then printing them out? Amy has many skills besides saving her own phone password from Poppy.

"It's unfair." Say this phrase to a detective who must uncover the truth and restore justice, who works so hard that he becomes a DCI, who has tools and assistants at his disposal, who solves cases after case, but who due to chance loses his future. We don't know why Amy left medical school after the second year, which is very difficult to enter, but maybe she was searching for justice? Amy saves and gives a chance not only to Harry, but also to herself. If you put a mirror in front of Amy, the main core of the scene wouldn't change. She admits something to herself that she couldn't even tell the therapist or Kirsten.

Since Kirsten sent such a familygram, there was more than just one moment associated with this book. Most likely, there were also many other books, because Amy couldn't immediately understand the message. Amy is probably used to seeing Kirsten awake in the early morning and therefore does not ask her anything, but simply raises Kirsten's hand in a familiar, confident gesture to hug her and be closer.

P.S. It couldn't have been another animal, could it?)

Who remembers the story of Jonah? The prophet who was swallowed by a whale for three days so that he would become what he was destined to become.

[not-goldy]

Well then who do you suggest FRI(end)S is about then? Its a very direct romantic song about wanting to be lovers not friends with someone who he knows feels the same way about him, he's just wanting them to make it official. He said you and I go back to like '09 and well if shippers are trying to relate to Jk and Jimin which seems to be the two main contenders. He met Jk mid 2011 & Jimin a few months later in early 2012, so it puts them both in that time frame according to shippers, to relate to that lyric. However out of those two, Tae publicly shot down rumors about one and went on to write a song about falling in love with his best friend after he called Jimin his only best friend and saying Jimin is the one who comforted him and cried with him at night when he was sad and down, which is also line he mentions in the song, along with the title of the song being the same as one he already has with Jimin. I feel like shippers are skirting around the issue, that if the song is indeed about Jimin, which he is by far the strongest contender here, then clearly Tae knows something about Jikook's relationship that we don't since he feels comfortable enough with these declarations to Jimin for years. Telling him likes him to his face that got picked up on his mic we weren't suppose to hear Or saying he likes him the most in front of jk or writing songs about him with not so friendly lyrics, like his christmas song that got rejected. Do you not think that is rude toward Jk if Jikook are together? The more Tae does things like this toward Jikook's relationship, the more questions gets raised. Even his public behavior toward Jk this past year saying Jk was serenading him with songs or sending him songs talking about two sinners & reposting tkk to his account, doesn't paint Jk & Jikook in a very good light either. If he's talking about even one of them in that song, regardless of who, it raises questions about Jikook either way and thats the issue that all shippers from every end, are skirting around. So where does that leave Jikook in this mess? I'm genuinely asking.

Isnt this ask redundant?

I've answered several asks on this already.

It's about a friend he's fallen in love with.

He's in love with his friend because this friend got him through a phase of loneliness and their words and actions got him feeling they are more than friends or should be more than friends.

Aahhh I see your tangent. You can leave Jikook out of this please and thank you they in MS bootcamp minding their gay business together.

What Tae does is Taes own problem. Who he falls for is his own cap of tea where he stumbles is his croissant. Has nothing to do with Jimin.

People like what they can't have.

He's not the only one to "disrespect" Jk to his face as you put it. JK literally got viscerally angry at Namjoon for blatantly flirting with Jimin in his face. Per your logic that shouldn't have happened at all if Namjoon knew what was up with Jikook yet it happened.

We've seen him over the years huff and puff over people acting funny with Jimin and We've seen Jimin equally go cross eyed with certain members crossing the line with Kook.

Just because Jungkook has boundaries don't mean people are automatically going to respect it or be considerate towards him.

And don't get me started on Tae and boundaries or the lack of it cos it's an encyclopedia full my guys a menace sometimes like why strike someone naked to shower with them BOUNDARIES BBY BOY BOUNDARIES HAVE SOME😩

I think his feelings are totally valid and he's allowed to speak his truth no matter how crazy the world perceive it. I mean he'll in his MV he literally portrays they world going mad around him when he finally finds love. It be like that. His forbidden romance trope is glaringly obvious so don't skirt that either.

Arianna Grande literally sang breakup with your girlfriend and no one clutched their purse. Suddenly when a man sings about falling for his friend who is dating another Suddenly it's unheard off and difficult to wrap around.

People like to play with fire. People like forbidden love so falling for your friends boyfriend is the least jaw dropping human weakness.

Hypothetically of course.