#she wasn’t struggling with her self-identify for the WHOLE SHOW??
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enobariasteeth · 1 year ago
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just remembered this Kdrama I watched that was REALLY good until the second to last episode where the main couple finally kissed AND THEN SHE BROKE UP WITH HIM!! IMMEDIATELY!!! AFTER THIRSTING OVER HIM THE ENTIRE SHOW!!!
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thethistlegirlwrites · 9 months ago
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Early Departures
Nico jumps when the door to the visitors’ area hisses open. 
He wasn’t paying attention to what was going on in there.
He’s been huddled up in a little ball of misery and hurt feelings under the window for…approximately eight minutes, according to his watch. 
He scrambles to his feet just as Joey closes the door behind her. He’s sure she noticed, but she doesn’t comment on it.
“You’re…uh…you’re back early.” His voice is rough and wet and he clears his throat harshly.
“They had to take a bus here and if they don’t make it to the stop by seven, there won’t be another one for an hour.” Joey shrugs. “Mauri’s got his learner’s permit but they don’t have a car.” 
Just another thing in the long list of reasons even the best parts of the mentor program get hung up in real life struggles. Joey was supposed to have an hour with her family. Between her pre-visit jitters and her family needing to get home safely at a reasonable hour, she barely got half of that. 
“They said they’d stay, but I don’t want them waiting that long in the dark, or walking home.” She says nothing about calling a cab or a rideshare, and Nico can understand why. Last time they were alone in a vehicle with someone driving them to a destination, Joey got bitten and infected. Statistically, late hour rideshare driver is a pretty common job for vampires, and not all of them are ethical about it. It’s not like the bus is a whole lot better, but the bus driver doesn’t know where you live. 
Shortly before he got Joey assigned to him, Nico had heard about a coven where drivers identified marks and then some of the other vamps pretended to drop off deliveries, showed up as contractors, or otherwise conned their way inside the places. 
He’s not sure Joey heard about that scam, she wasn’t involved much in the vampire world before her turn, but she’s also smart enough to have figured out the potential for it on her own. 
Nico makes a mental note to ask around the office and see if anyone’s planning on swapping a vehicle soon. It’s a little bit overstepping the boundaries of his official job description when it comes to his mentees, but he’s pretty sure that making sure Joey and her family get their full visitation time falls under the general bullet point of supporting his mentee’s social wellbeing. 
This is upsetting him a lot more than it should, given Joey seems not exactly happy with the situation but at least resigned to the idea of losing out on some time with the people she just reconnected with. 
“What happened to you?” Joey asks. 
He’d been planning to slip out to the restroom for a few minutes, wash his face, and pull himself together. But he’d also expected to have about ten more minutes. He’s sure he looks like a mess.
He shrugs. “Nothin’. We oughta get going.” When they step up to the exit door, he wipes at the tear tracks on his cheeks as subtly as he can with his hoodie sleeves.
Neither of them say anything much as they walk to the van parked in Chimera’s visitor lot. Joey mentions a few tidbits of news from her family, but she’s more subdued than he’d expected after how well the visit was going. Right up until they had to leave early.
He’s not sure if it’s having their time cut short, or if it’s his fault for letting her find him so obviously in distress, or some combination of both that has her acting like this.
But he’s going to find out.
He waits until they pull out onto the street, into the slowly moving river of traffic. Joey is staring out the window at the lights and the buildings they’re passing, blinking slowly every few seconds.
Nico sighs. “I know your thing is being okay for everyone else. But I also know you’ve been desperate to see your family for weeks, and now you missed out on half of it.” 
Joey shrugs, but doesn’t look away from the window. “I told them to go catch the bus. They all should get home as soon as they can at night.” It’s the same kind of painful self-sacrificing practicality that made her lock herself in a silver-laced crypt for two weeks as a fledgling. He still doesn’t know how she managed that. 
A moment of post-feeding clarity and an available hunter burial site, according to her file, but still.
“I’ll ask around the office. I know a couple of the others have been talking about getting newer cars, and maybe one of them would be interested in selling the old one outright instead of trading in.” It’s hard for vamps to get leases, too. More often, they own vehicles outright.
“I can’t just let you find Mauri a car. You’re supposed to be helping me, not everyone in my family. I don’t want you to get in trouble.”
“Joey, sometimes I think you are your family. You won’t let yourself be okay until they are. Everything I know about you is that you put your own best interests dead last compared to your siblings or even your aunt. So if I want to stand a chance o’ helpin’ you, I have to help them first, so you’ll let something good happen for you too.” 
“Why are you trying so hard for me?”
“Because I called Ricky again while you were in there.”
“Did he answer?”
Nico just shakes his head. “Nothing I do or say is gonna get him back. But your family wants you in their lives. And that’s worth hangin’ onto every single moment of. I don’t want you to miss out on one.”
Joey bites her lip and looks down. “No wonder you’re so upset I had to cut the visit short.” She looks up at him. “I get it. But  I learned a long time ago not to feel sorry for myself about the things I don’t have, and to just be happy for the things I do. If I hadn’t figured that out, I’d be a lot worse off.” 
It sounds better than tearing his heart out over and over every time he hears a voicemail. But that same attitude is what put Joey in a blood coma in a place no one would have found her for maybe decades. 
Maybe the best course is somewhere in the middle between stubborn refusal to give up on what you want, and acceptance of the circumstances life throws at you.
He’s beginning to think Joey’s going to do him as much good as he’s going to do for her. 
“I’ll take the help with the car on one condition,” Joey says. “You come meet my family at the next visit and tell Mauri all about the plan yourself.”
It’s definitely unorthodox. 
But if it gets Joey to accept a little more help from him, he’ll go for it.
“Okay. I’ll clear it with Lawson first, but I don’t think she’ll veto it.”
“We’ve lost a lot of family. And you’re kind of part of mine now, so I think it’s only fair they all get to meet my mentor and boss. Tía Patricia was already asking all kinds of questions about you. She worries a lot.”
Nico can only imagine how that woman is going to cross-examine him. But he’s honestly sort of looking forward to it. Besides, setting her mind at ease is going to make things easier in the long run.
“Also, I think you should know. You called your sister an annoying pest.”
The look Joey gives him is the most murderous he’s seen her yet.
“What was that about my sister?”
“You called her a ray of sunshine.”
“I’ve been calling her that since she was a baby. She was always smiling. Even when she wasn’t feeling good or had to stay in the hospital.”
Nico shakes his head. “Clearly you haven’t come across the vampire meaning.”
“There’s a vampire meaning?” Joey is genuinely at a loss.
“If you hear a vampire call someone a ray of sunshine, it’s not a compliment,” Nico explains. “It’s a small but persistent annoyance.”
Joey stares at him for a second then bursts out laughing. “That…makes a weird kind of sense.”
“You don’t have to tell her if you don’t want to.”
“Are you kidding? She’s going to think it’s hilarious.”
“In that case, I look forward to witnessing this.” Without a panel of shatterproof silver-treated glass and an intercom system between them.
(This is the followup to Day 13, which you can read on my WorldAnvil here! You can also read this story and others from this universe there!)
@catwingsathena @nade2308 @the-one-and-only-valkyrie @telltaleclerk @ettawritesnstudies  @writeouswriter @whump-place @the-lovely-wren
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semper-legens · 1 year ago
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118. The Burning Chambers, by Kate Mosse
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Owned: No, library Page count: 574 My summary: Huguenots and Catholics are at each other’s throats in 1500s France. But for Minou, such things are beyond her concern - her father has never recovered from a mysterious trip he took some months ago. When she bumps into a red-haired stranger on the street, she has no way of anticipating that she’ll be drawn into a conspiracy that reaches back to the day of her birth... My rating: 2.5/5 My commentary:
I picked this book up because the third book in this series came into work for a reservation, and seemed interesting. But it’s the third in the series, so I decided to go back to the source to see if the whole thing was worth checking out. And...was largely disappointed. God damn it, I love some historical fiction, particularly historical fiction that isn’t set in Tudor or Victorian England, but this was very much not it for me. It’s actually taken me the better part of a week to do this writeup, mostly because I just have so little to say about it. It just...didn’t live up to any of the expectations I had for it.
A large part of the problem with this book is that the narrative is rushed and spread far too thin. There are so many characters to keep track of here; the narrative shifts often between Minou and Piet and Minou’s sister and Blanche, and Minou’s father and random Huguenots and so many others. The result is that we don’t spend enough time with any of them to really get a good sense for them or start identifying with them. And what we do see is...not all that interesting, to my mind? The story isn’t too sure whether it wants to be a family drama about the conspiracy within Minou’s history or a wider narrative of the conflicts between the Catholics and Huguenots, so it goes for both, which is why this book is nearly 600 pages long. Unfortunately, I just didn’t care enough about it. There’s a whole star-crossed lovers thing going on with Piet and Minou, but their relationship is literally just ‘we met once for five minutes so now we are DEEPLY IN LOVE’. Minou is never enough of a Catholic that her slide into the Huguenot faith matters - and the story isn’t interested in the theological differences between the two or the nature of faith anyway. There just isn’t enough focus on any one part of the story for me to be engaged at all.
Add to that the historicity of the books. There’s a way to show a historical era and balance reader interest and historicity, and this does not do it. The characters’ dialogue is often too stiffly formal or too self-consciously archaic, and the particular moments where the story wants to teach you about history focus on trivia that isn’t there enough to count. Yeah, sure, the duality of French and Occitan is interesting enough, but as someone who doesn’t speak French, when characters used Occitan I just assumed it was French. It wasn’t until the author’s note at the end that I realised there were two languages going on. Sure, the author will narrate that a character is speaking in French and Occitan, but the significance of it isn’t integrated enough. I just struggled through this book, and I don’t think I’m gonna bother with the rest. It’s just...not what I was looking for.
Next up, back to CHERUB, as James tries to figure out what a crooked car dealer is up to
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headedoutleft · 6 months ago
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Didn’t want to derail the comic post that I just reblogged or drag OP into discourse that doesn’t apply to them, but it drives me crazy that lesbians will discuss the challenges of navigating wlw relationships, which are very real, and then people will say shit like, “bi women are faking because they never have sex with women”
Yeah I think it makes sense when you consider 1. statistics and 2. women generally don’t pursue other women like men do (obviously I’ve met women who do, but they are not the norm outside of lesbian circles). Women will often in my experience act in ways that present ambiguous desire to spend time together without expressing attraction out of fear of losing friendship, and then end up feeling lonely and going out with a dude who’s just persistent in expressing attraction because that’s what he’s been socialized to do
And it’s safe to to say based on demo studies that there are far more bisexual people than homosexual (50% of USAmericans identifying as LGBTQ identify as bi per a Gallup poll a couple years ago), which means that’s a whole lot of women attracted to women who are never ever saying that to other women because they’re afraid of losing a friend or have low self esteem or are socialized to be passive in building relationships and don’t feel comfortable expressing attraction. It’s also often difficult to identify other bisexuals irl for a ton of reasons
So there’s so many layers of resistance to that relationship or sexual encounter even happening, a tremendous amount of loneliness happening for women who end up in relationships that don’t fulfill all of their desires, and then the women who are most visibly open to having those relationships with them… make fun of them or refuse to date them because they don’t think they’re legitimately an option
Like when my friend was on dating apps a few years ago, the number of women who refused to go out with her or ghosted once they found out she was bi was incredibly sad tbh. She did not want to date men at that point, but she struggled to connect with women at all. And I want to be clear, she had had sex with women before, this wasn’t even a case of a woman who was seeking an initial sexual experience with other women
There are just so many reasons why bi women end up with someone of the opposite sex who shows up and genuinely wants to connect and miss the opportunity to connect with women. It���s statistically and socially more likely to happen
I’m hopeful this is changing as Gen Z is way more likely to be open about their attraction (the kiddos I know in middle school are experiencing social complexities that make my middle school experience look easy by comparison lmao) and more likely to be open in identifying themselves as bi. I think that’s fantastic! I hope that increased visibility helps change the way older people view and express their sexuality too
I saw some data just now when I checked that said only 10% of US millenials identify as LGBTQ based on a Gallup poll a few years ago. That cannot be accurate, imo, and I think as acceptance grows and folks begin to explore their needs more then that will change over time. But the obstacles to entry are so complex and we need to be kind to people who are figuring out later in life who they are and wanting to have those experiences
All that to say
Women start telling other women you think they’re hot as fuck, the risk is not that high, it’ll be okay
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hellomynameisbisexual · 3 years ago
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Andrew Ford was questioned and fetishized when he came out as bisexual. The gay community insisted he wasn’t being honest with himself; women at clubs started to excitedly fantasize about hooking up with two guys at the same time.
All the while, the soccer standout stayed true to himself. Ford came out his freshman year at Malone University, a small Christian liberal arts college in Canton, Ohio — home of the Pro Football Hall of Fame. His friends and teammates were accepting, which was an incredible relief. But his journey into the LGBTQ community was a little more rocky.
“I got a lot of pressure from the gay community,” Ford told me recently on the phone. “I felt like I was misunderstood, and didn’t know who I was.”
Ford is one of an increasing number of openly bisexual college-aged athletes whom we’ve profiled recently on Outsports. Despite some surveys showing more Americans identify as bisexual than either gay or lesbian, there is a dearth of bi visibility in pop culture and sports.
As bi sportswriter Jeff Rueter challenged me: “name a bisexual man, and don’t say Frank Ocean.”
These kick-ass kids are going to change that.
Biphobia is real
Let’s start here: Biphobia is real. It manifests itself in gestures as seemingly fleeting as dismissive jokes, and actions as harrowing as outright physical violence. Bisexual people typically suffer significantly higher rates of depression and anxiety, domestic violence, sexual assault, and poverty than lesbians, gay men, or straight cisgender people, according to the Human Rights Campaign.
A black-and-white society, most of us grow up with the notion people are either straight or gay. Those attitudes have historically prevailed in the LGBTQ community, too.
Alex Keuroghlian, the Director of the National LGBTQIA+ Health Education Center at the Fenway Institute, says bisexual people can be looked at skeptically.
“Within LGBTQIA+ communities, there has historically been a stigma toward bisexual people, and the false notion that they’re really gay and lesbian people who haven’t accepted that about themselves,” he said.
Megan Duthart, a rower at Washington State University who identifies as both bi and queer, has experienced the stigma first-hand. She says she thinks bisexual people are often excluded in the LGBTQ community.
“I’ve struggled a little bit with being identified as an ‘other’ in the community with the term ‘bisexuality,’” she said.
Why are bi people targeted for erasure?
More people are identifying as bisexual. Over three percent of U.S. adults say they’re bi, according to the 2018 General Social Survey. That’s three times the number as 2008.
And yet, bi people are still targeted for erasure. One of the ways it happens is through language. When people see same-sex couples, for example, they may be inclined to label them as “gay” or “lesbian,” without considering that one or both of the people could identity as bi.
While Americans’ attitudes about sexuality are evolving, many still adhere to more binary definitions of sexual orientation. A recent YouGov poll found 41 percent of American adults don’t think sexuality is a spectrum (conversely, 37 percent think it is).
As Ford puts it, bisexuality is stereotypically viewed as “the stepping stone stage.” That ties into one of the more insidious aspects of bi-erasure: the belief that it’s just a phase. It’s a line Ford recalls hearing many times, from both men and women.
“(Gay men) said, ‘I came out as bisexual first. It’s just a phase, you won’t be there long,’” Ford said. “I was also scared how women would think about it. They wanted to change me. Some of them wanted to use it as a thrill they were seeking.”
When professional hockey player Zach Sullivan came out as bi, his father told him it meant he was still making up his mind.
“I remember what my dad said when I told him,” Sullivan said. “‘Well, you aren’t all the way there. You haven’t really decided.’ I was like, ‘no, I know I’m attracted to both genders. I’m not halfway towards coming out as gay.’”
The bi burden
Every LGBTQ person can relate to the fear and anxiety of coming out. But for most of us, once we do it, it’s over.
That’s not the case for bi people.
“We have to keep coming out to our significant others, whether it’s a man or a woman,” Ford said. “If you’re gay and you start dating a gay, you’re not going to be like, ‘I have to tell you something: I’m gay.’ They’re going to be like, ‘no shit.’”
And once bi people do come out, they could get charged with being greedy — the sexual equivalent of having their cake and eating it, too. The insult angers Sullivan.
“The majority of people in the LGBT+ community have struggled with their sexuality, and when they finally become comfortable enough to come out in the open with their sexuality, I don’t think the first thing to say to someone who’s come out as bisexual is they’re greedy,” Sullivan said. “I took over 10 years to get to where I am.”
Duthart finds the concept of bisexuality can be difficult to explain. She largely identifies as queer.
“I’ve had coaches question whether I’m rebelling or going through a phase,” she said. “Then when I explain the whole queer aspect, they’re like, ‘Oh, OK. That seems more justified.’ I don’t want to have to justify those things, but I sort of have to.”
Changing attitudes
Jack Storrs came out as bisexual last year as a college football captain. His teammates at Pomona-Pitzer rallied around him, and wore Pride decals on their helmets.
But even some who were supportive suggested he was on his way to identifying as gay. Storrs said he couldn’t hide his feelings for men anymore, and came out because he wanted to explore.
Maybe he was gay, maybe he wasn’t. The questions didn't bother him. He was a relieved to have the dialogue.
“It was killing me on the inside,” Storrs said. “It got to the point where I was like, ‘screw it.’ This is who I am, and this was meant to be.”
Nowadays, Storrs says he’s more towards the “gay end of the spectrum,” and expects the fluidity to continue.
He’s cool with that, and numbers show his peers are, too. Generation Z is among the most progressive and diverse in U.S. history. A 2018 study from Ipsos Mori shows only 66 percent of young people today identify exclusively as heterosexual.
Young people have a better understanding of how sexuality can evolve, says Keuroghlian.
“There’s been less of a reflex to box people in, and categorize people in ways that could be static,” he said. “A key part of all of this is not projecting behavior or projecting attraction. People tell us — they self-identify that’s who they are. And we have to honor that.”
Visibility challenges misperceptions
But to get back to Rueter’s question: can you name a famous out bisexual person besides Frank Ocean?
It’s challenging, and the lack of bi visibility may be one of the biggest contributors towards bi-erasure. But that is changing. Each person who comes out as bisexual has the ability to change perceptions within their own communities — and many young athletes are.
Bri Tollie, a bisexual college basketball player at Southern Methodist University, wrote in her coming-out story she refuses to conform.
“It is important to be visible because everyone is unique,” she wrote. “Our uniqueness means no one should not have to give up a part of themselves to conform. It is called self-respect.”
Growing up, Storrs tried to shut off his attraction to guys. He told himself it wasn’t a big deal, but the angst became all-encompassing.
Storrs is done hiding any part of himself. He did that for far too long, and is now out for all to see.
“I am bisexual, and my point is, I don’t really give a shit what anybody else thinks,” Storrs said. “This is who I am, and I don’t have to figure it out, but the reason I’m coming out is to figure it out, or at least get to a point where I’m comfortable.”
With their stories, these young bi athletes are making it more comfortable for bi people every single day.
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reidgraygubler · 4 years ago
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caught in the nets (spencer reid/reader)
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Title: caught in the nets
Requested: no
Couple: spencer reid/fem!reader
Category: smut, fluff
Content Warning: SEXUAL CONTENT (penetrive sex, unsafe sex, public sex (public bathroom), fingering, handjob, grinding, groping, heavy petting, fucking with fishnets on, tipsy sex, possessive), hand on jaw/neck (no pressure), swearing, drinking, mentions of a gun, mentions of casework, friends to lovers
Word Count: 3,944
Summary: Spencer loves what reader is wearing while out at a bar with the team
A/N: hi guys, gals, and non-binary pals! Here’s another thing i wrote. this is another thing I was super excited to write. AND I wrote it for one of my bestest friends @spencer-reid-in-a-pool for pom’s server fic swap. I wrote it in literally two days bc I had a week to write it. But it does have a prompt and a few other things she likes in it! also quick shout out to @newportonmymind for proofreading this!! i really appreciate you! I really hope you guys enjoy this piece! Thank you all so much for the love and support! I appreciate it and you! Check out my masterlist!
{***}{***}{***}
Rough cases will always be the worst. Sometimes they felt hopeless, like we weren’t able to figure out how to save a victim. In the end we were able to save the victim and arrest the unsub. But it was still rough.
So drinks were a must when it came to the end of rough cases. I know it’s a bad thing to turn to drinking in a rough time. But sometimes nothing helped more than a drink. It was easier to relax with a little liquor in your system. Well, it was easier for me to relax with a little liquor. I couldn’t say about the rest of the team.
I was the one who offered up the idea of going to a bar when we returned home. I just needed a little something to help me unwind. Luke, Penelope and Tara were the next to say they’d be coming. After some light convincing, Emily, JJ, and Matt agreed. David was quick to leave before we could get to him about it.
Which left Spencer. At first he put up a fight, arguing that he had to go home. Home to what? We have the same situation. Eventually Penelope wore him down and got him to go.
“Okay, I’ll meet you guys there. I need to change out of these clothes.” I looked down at the business attire I had worn on the plane. I really wished I had changed out of them too, and into something more comfortable.
“Sounds good, Sweetness! See you in a bit.” Penelope looked at me with a smile. I returned the smile before collecting my things from my desk, and leaving.
Part of me wanted to wear a sweatshirt and sweatpants. But I also wanted to wear jeans and a tee-shirt, just to be comfortable. I also wanted to wear something more… party like. Mostly because we’re going to a bar, where there were going to be lots of people. Mmm…
I went with the latter. My outfit ended up consisting of a plain black top, paired with short-shorts and a “comfortable” pair of heels. Under the shorts I wore one of my favorite clothing items, a pair of black fishnets. They were one of my favorite things because I always gained the attention of someone. And I usually enjoyed that attention. I just don’t know whose attention I wanted.
Once I was satisfied with how I looked, I grabbed my bag and left for the bar. I was the first to leave the BAU, but the last to show up to the bar. Even Spencer was there before me, which was a rarity.
“Hey sorry I’m late. Traffic was nuts… And I just wanted to look nice,” I laughed nervously as I looked down before sitting beside Penelope. Everyone’s eyes were on me, and I tried to avoid the feeling of the stares. At first I tried to not be self-conscious, after all I was the one who wanted to dress a little more… sexy and get the attention of others.
“What are you wearing?” Luke asked after he took a sip of his beer. I looked down at my attire and shrugged.
“Wanted someone’s attention. Figured I’d get it here.” I gestured around the room towards the many groups of people. “Already got yours, Lukey-poo,” I cooed as I looked at him. He looked back at me with a weird look in his eyes. “Where’s Spence?”
“He went to get a drink.” JJ nodded towards the bar before sipping her drink. I looked over my shoulder and towards the bar. My eyes quickly identified the lanky and awkward body of Spencer standing beside the bar as he waited for a drink.
“Has the bartender been flirting with him the whole time?” I looked back at the team with wide eyes. Tara looked over at JJ with a smug smile before nodding. “No ones gonna save him?” “Figured we’d give him a try first.” Matt shrugged as he looked back at me. I let out a mildly annoyed sigh before standing up.
“Where are you going?” Emily asked as she looked at me. I smiled as her eyes very slowly lingered down my body. There was an obvious struggle, and I liked that. I was definitely getting the attention I craved tonight. Even though it’s from my superior.
“Gonna go save boy wonder from inevitable embarrassment that he will probably succumb to.” I rested my hand on the table as I looked at the team. JJ and Emily shared a knowing glance. “And I’m getting myself a drink.” I shrugged before shoving my hands in my small pockets and walked towards the bar and Spencer.
“Hey Spence!” I exclaimed as I looked at him. He looked away from the bartender and smiled. His smile, however, quickly melted away and a hungry look took over his eyes.
“H-hey,” he mumbled before looking back at the bartender. She looked between me and Spencer before muttering a few profanities and walking away. I smirked before taking the space up beside Spencer.
“You seeing something you like, Reid?” I asked as soon as I noticed him staring at me again. I leaned over the bar beside him and smiled.
“I.. Uh, I…” He cleared his throat before looking away from me and down at the counter. Well, maybe I did know whose attention I wanted…
“Anyways, I’ve come to save you.”
“Save me?”
“The bartender…” I whispered before nodding in her direction. Spencer looked down at her and we both caught her looking between us before dropping her gaze.
“The bartender?”
“Just get your drink and come on,” I laughed before standing up and away from the counter. Spencer looked back at me with a raised eyebrow. He was obviously confused as to what I was talking about. But I’ll honestly save him the embarrassment. “Oh, wait. I want a drink too!” I exclaimed as I leaned over the counter.
Once we both had our drinks, I silently led him back to the table. I enjoyed the feeling of people’s eyes on me as I walked by them. I could even sense Spencer staring at me. To be fair, my shorts were a little on the shorter side…
Maybe the attention I was getting was from the person I wanted it from the most…
Spencer and I returned to the table, and we were quick to join into whatever conversation they were having. The entertaining stories that Matt told about his kids made everyone go into a fit of laughter.
The laughter only grew the more drinks that everyone had consumed. We weren’t exactly drunk, well some of us weren’t drunk. But when someone in the bar orders a round of drinks for the table, it’s hard to say no.
JJ, Spencer and Matt were the only ‘mostly sober’ ones. Followed by Tara and me being tipsy, but sober enough to know what was happening. Penelope, Luke and Emily had enough to drink and had left the table to go dance with each other and random people in the bar.
“I wanna dance,” I muttered as I looked down at the table. Matt cleared his throat, causing me to look up at him. He was nodding a Spencer, who was looking around the room at all the other people. A small smile grew across my lips before I jumped from my seat. Spencer and JJ both looked at me with shock on their faces.
I looked right at Spencer and smiled. “You.” I pointed at him. “Me.” Then I pointed at myself. “We’re dancing,” I spoke as I jerked my thumb behind me. Spencer’s face fell slightly as he watched me walk to stand in front of him. I smiled as his eyes lingered on my body for a brief moment before landing on my face. “Come on. Let’s leave mom and dad alone.” I lifted a hand for him to take. He looked at it for a moment before hesitantly placing his hand into mine.
Once he stood, I dragged him over to the dance floor, where we both stood still. I didn’t know what was going through his head, but I wished I did. His body wasn’t tense, in fact I could tell he liked that I was being daring and the close proximity I was in.
We, and by we I mean me, hardly danced. It was mostly just me. And my dance moves consisted of me grinding on him. Which seemed to rile him up enough to entertain me. I enjoyed it more when he rested his hands on my hips and held me in front of him.
I looked around the room at all the people, watching as they continued dancing with their friends and people. Then I looked back at Spencer before grabbing his hand. His once hazel eyes were blown out black and a look of hunger and lust was settled in them. He looked like he knew what he wanted, and he was about to do anything in his power to get it too.
I looked away from him and around the room, again, looking for a familiar face. It wasn’t that I needed someone to save me from this moment. No. I needed to make sure none of our friends saw what I was about to do next.
I turned to face Spencer again and pressed my chest to his. He placed his hands on my hips and pulled them flush against his. The breath was knocked from my lungs when I felt how hard he was through his slacks and my shorts.
I grabbed his wrist and turned away from him before dragging him out of the bar and towards the bathrooms. He didn’t say anything when I pulled him into the women’s bathroom and into a stall. I’ll forever be grateful for that too because I don’t know where else we would go to.
I pulled him into a stall and locked it before pushing him against the door. His lips quickly attached to mine, and before I knew it his teeth grazed across my lower lip. And just like before, when we were out in the bar, his hands fell back to my hips and he pulled me against him. He rolled his hips to mine, pressing his bulge into my body.
“I can’t believe you,” Spencer groaned against my mouth. I looked up at him and smirked. “Why’s that? What makes me so unbelievable?” I whispered as I pressed a hand to his front. Spencer’s body froze and a hiss came from his lips.
“You coming to this bar, dressed like that, acting like you own the place,” his voice was low as he spoke. I smiled before I looked for his belt. “Acting like you aren’t arousing every man-- and woman-- here. That’s right, I saw the way Emily looked at you,” he continued as he looked at me.
“I just wanted attention from someone. But I’m sure happy that it’s your attention that I’m getting, Spencer,” I whispered before I pressed my hips against his.
“Well… I don’t think you’ll be getting attention from anyone else other than mine from now on.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re mine now, Sweetness,” he mildly mocked the pet name Penelope had given me earlier today. I stared at him, my breathing growing shallow. “And no one else’s.” Goosebumps grew like fire across my skin once I realized the honesty and reality of his words. Or, well, I should say his possessiveness. At first I wasn’t sure if I wanted or believed what he said, but a moment passed and I realized… I wanted it so bad.
We both fell into a silent stare down. My hands, however, kept busy as they looked for his belt. But then a smirk grew across my lips the second I realized he still had a hard on waiting for me.
I was quick as I tried undoing his belt buckle, hoping he wouldn’t notice. But he obviously did when I began struggling and fumbling for a moment.
“Is that a gun or are you just happy to see me, Reid?” I whispered as I carefully slipped my hand into his pants and briefs. My question was otherwise rhetorical. I knew for a fact it was a gun. But I also knew it wasn’t a gun.
Spencer took a deep breath of air once my hand was wrapped around his length. I smiled as I slowly moved my hand back and forth, gently applying pressure.
“It’s a gun,” Spencer returned, keeping his voice low, “But I’m more than happy to see you. Trust me.” I could tell he was trying to be sly with his words. Because when he started talking his voice was deep and a little rough, but as he continued on talking, they got a little shaky and a little bit higher. I wanted to mock him, but I knew better than to do that.
“Oh… I do,” I whispered as I quickened my pace. My lips were hovering over his. His breath fanned across my face, and I could just barely smell the gin and tonic he had drank earlier.
My heart was beating hard in my chest because I was about to fuck my co-worker in the bathroom at fucking bar. I wondered if his was doing the same thing. I wondered if his thought process was the same as mine too.
I also wondered if he felt the same way. Maybe I’ve always wanted the attention from Spencer. He was right there, and always has been, and always will be. Plus we’ve known each other for years. So what’s the harm? Maybe he felt the same?
The grip Spencer held on my hips started to tighten as I continued to stroke his length. I could feel his tension growing the longer I went. My lips slowly curled at the corners as I realized how much I was going to enjoy this.
Then it happened. Spencer flipped our positions so I was pressed against the door. Both of my wrists were in one of his hands, held above my head. His other hand was already messing with the button of my shorts.
“You think you’re the only one who can do that, Sweetness,” he whispered before pressing his lips to my neck. It was his turn to grind his hips against mine, easily taking my breath away again.
“Spence…” I gasped once his hand was finally down the front of my shorts. I tried hard to pull my hands from his hand, but his grip only tightened.
“See, two can play at this game,” he spoke softly as he swiped a finger up my slit. I bit my lips together as he gently moved his finger around the sensitive nub between my thighs. “But unlike you I’m going to let you finish.”
“I was go-oh…” I whimpered as my knees buckled down causing my hips to grind on his hand. He smiled before carefully pushing a finger into my entrance. It was suddenly hard to concentrate as he curled his fingers just right.
“That’s what I thought,” Spencer murmured against my ear before moving his mouth to the corner of my mouth, then to my neck. A small moan fell from my mouth as he sucked a spot onto the base of my neck.
I stayed silent as Spencer continued whispering dirty things in my ear. Part of me almost forgot who I was with. Not because of what was happening, but because of what he was saying. I had no clue Spencer could say such dirty things. My train of thought was all over the place, derailing the moment I would gain a coherent thought.
Once I did eventually finish on his fingers, he pulled his hand from my shorts and looked down at me. It was a silent moment of a stare down. I was quiet because I was sure of what was about to happen. I was about to fuck Spencer Reid. I was willing to bet Spencer was calculating how long the events of everything would take. I didn’t care, I just wanted it and I wanted it now.
I broke the stare down, looking down at his slacks and the bulge that was still pressing against the fabric. I silently undid the button and zipper and pushed his pants down.
Spencer stopped me before I could do anything else. I looked up at him, my eyes staying on his face as he pushed down my shorts. Then it happened. I was expecting sex to happen like normal. Half naked.
I furrowed my eyebrows when he started getting ready. My tights were still on me properly. He didn’t forget. Man has the best mind in the world. He wouldn’t forget about my tights.
“Wait,” I whispered as I went to pull my tights off, but Spencer stopped me. His hand wrapped around my wrist before he pulled it away. “I gotta take my tights off if we-Oh…”I looked up at him with wide eyes once I realized what he wanted.
“Keep them on,” he whispered so softly I almost didn’t hear him. I nodded lightly. Truth be told, I could see the appeal in it. I did wear the fishnets for a reason. And I knew how I looked in them.
“I can do that.”
Spencer hoisted one of my legs around his waist and pressed my body against the wall. I stared at him, my arms wrapped around his neck to keep me up right. He also helped keep me up by keeping his hands on my hips. Once I was steady, Spencer ripped a hole in the crotch of my tights.
My teeth bit down on my lower lip as he dragged the head of his cock down my pussy. I almost couldn’t handle the way he teased my entrance. I wondered if he could see how frustrated I was starting to get. He’s a profiler. He should just know already how much I needed this.
“I swear to-” ‘God, Spencer.’ My words were cut off with a moan as he pressed into me all at once. It was hard to keep my head up right, and I fought for a moment before finally dropping it to rest on his shoulder. I brought my hand to my mouth and bit down.
Spencer moved a hand around to rest on my bottom. My mouth fell as his hand began massaging my flesh. That, paired with the way he began moving his hips started becoming too much for me.
He looked down at me, sweat beginning to mat down his hair to his forehead. His eyebrows were furrowed together as he picked up his pace. My leg around his waist pulled him closer to me.
“Don’t stop, please, please don’t stop,” I whined as he finally moved closer to me. My body began moving up and down the door. The cloth of my tank top had started riding up, and my hot skin was instantly touching the cool steel door.
Spencer lifted a hand to my head, placing it on the backside before pulling my face to his. His lips pressed everywhere on my face, not one spot was ignored. I pulled my hands away from his neck and grasped his shirt and tie, keeping him in his spot.
“You could’ve worn anything and I still would have wanted to fuck you. Sweatpants and oversized tee-shirt, that pencil skirt you wore back in Oklahoma… But the fishnets really do take the cake.”
“I-I knew someone would like them.” I tried to keep my voice steady. But it was so hard when pressure began growing in my stomach and between my legs.
“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted this? You here, looking like this,” his voice was almost a growl. My chest began heaving with each word he said and each movement he made. “Too damn long, that’s how long.”
Spencer removed his hand from the back of my head and dropped it to between my legs, resting it high on my thigh. His thumb moved back and forth on my leg, over the material of the fishnets. The look in his eyes drove me wild, and I loved it so, so much.
“Better me than anyone else. I’m not willing to share.” Spencer actually growled as he moved his finger to the crest of my legs. He smiled when I looked up at him with a mildly panicked look in my eyes. “Do you understand why, Sweetness?”
“N-no.”
“As I told you earlier, you’re mine,” he struggled as he tried to hold back a moan.
“Fuck,” I cried as my head dropped back down to his shoulder. I pressed a hand to the wall beside me. I gasped for air as the pressure in my stomach grew to the point of exploding.
“Only I can make you feel like this. You got that, Sweetness?” Spencer groaned, which quickly caused me to nod.
It was impossible to stay quiet as the pressure built up more. The situation was pushed more as soon as Spencer started moaning more into my ear. It was so overwhelming the second he said my name.
And then it happened. I finished before him. But it wasn’t too long after that a familiar warmth spread throughout me.
Spencer dropped his head to my shoulder, and we were both left in panting, breathless messes. My eyes were stuck open as I tried recollecting myself.
“I waited a long time for that too, Spencer,” I whispered, breaking the silence after a few minutes passed. He laughed and nodded.
“Yeah, I know.”
“Of course you do.” I shook my head and pushed his body off mine. He looked down at me with a smirk. “What… What does this mean?”
“Could mean anything. We let things happen naturally, or we pretend nothing happened at all. I’d prefer the former, if I’m going to be honest with you.” He gently lifted a hand and rested it on my face. My nose twitched as soon as I felt something rolling down my thigh. Then my eyes widened.
“N-naturally… Yeah,” I whispered, mostly to myself, as I reached for a wad of toilet paper. I quickly cleaned up the mess that was between my legs and shook my head.
“We should go. Get you properly cleaned.” Spencer spoke up once I was done cleaning myself a bit.
“Well now we gotta go out there and pretend like nothing happened,” I whispered as I looked up at him. Spencer shrugged like it was no big deal. “Where did this sudden cockines come from?”
“When I realized you could have any guy in the bar… And you chose me.” He smiled before wrapping an arm around my waist. I widened my eyes as we exited the bathroom and entered the crowd of people together. People stared at us as we walked by, but I couldn’t tell if it was both of us they were staring at or just me. Spencer’s grip around my waist tightened as he pulled me closer to him. “Remember, Sweetness… I don’t like sharing what’s mine,” his voice was low. My body stiffened once the reality of his words hit me. His.
“Where were you guys?” Emily looked between Spencer and I. I looked at her with wide eyes, my expression telling her (and the rest of the team) everything they needed to know. I’m sure I looked like a hot fucking mess.
“Sweetness here was outside not feeling too well. So I brought her to the bathroom and helped her out a little bit,” Spencer lied with a smile.
Even he knew the lie was useless. But I think everyone would rather believe the obvious lie than rather just know the truth. To be fair, I’d rather tell them all a useless lie rather than the truth. “She still doesn’t feel too well. So I’m going to take her home.”
“Oh! Bummer! I hope you feel better!” Penelope was the first to speak up. I was thankful too that she played along because I really couldn’t handle that embarrassment…
“I will.. Hopefully by morning… I’ve got the best doctor I know taking care of me.” I smiled softly as I looked up at Spencer. He glanced back at me with a smile.
“Have a nice rest of the night.” Spencer nodded to the team before guiding me away from the table and towards the front doors.
“My place or yours?” I looked back at him once we were finally outside and walking towards his car.
“Mine.”
if you want to be a part of a taglist (lmk if ur 18+ for smut) or have any comments about this one-shot, let me know here
taglist: @thebluetint​ @muffin-cup​ @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto​ @spencersmagic @90spumkin​ @jareids​ @broken-stardust​
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epicene-humanoid · 4 years ago
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some trans Jeff thoughts:
he realized he was trans in elementary school and just went fuck it I'll just start introducing myself as Jeffery and see if anyone decides to stop me (as we know, jeff winger can get away with almost anything)
he got top surgery the second he could afford it (around the same time he started at his law firm), and probably bribed someone to keep it a secret
"I'm jeff winger and i would rather look at myself naked than the women I sleep with" are the words of a man proud of his transition
he's really insecure about his fashion sense, which is why he mostly dresses like the douchey guys at his firm in the start of the show, he thought you can't go wrong with the sleazy lawyer look
he will never admit it but he feels super good about the dean hitting on him, because the dean is a (cis) guy, acknowledging that Jeff is more manly than him
i think he starts out stealth and comes out to everyone one by one, probably starting with abed because he knows abed won't judge him and will probably just see it as an interesting backstory.
abed just says it's cool and maybe worth a prequel exploring Jeff's transition, and jeff asks him to predict how all of the members of the group will react to him coming out.
abed's predictions:
britta will be over-the-top supportive and do a ton of research about trans history, probably put together a slideshow just to prove how progressive she is, and jeff will be a little bit weirded out, but also touched that she did all that for him, though he would never let her know that
shirley will be confused, because she doesn't know how someone she trusts and knows so well could be part of a group she was raised to hate, but ultimately realizes that there's nothing actually against the lgbtq people in the bible, and, as a cool character development arch, starts to advocate against use of the bible to justify bigotry
troy will just think it over and decide that Jeff's physique and coolness are even awesomer knowing how much work he'd had to put in to be like that, and respects Jeff's manliness even more
annie will give him a hug, say something sweet about how she'll always love him, and worry about his health, because even she read somewhere that taking testosterone makes you more likely to have a heart attack, jeff will explain that the risk is still only as high a cis guy, and she'll be the one to always remind him to take his shots
peirce will say at best say "jeff winger used to be a chick?" and at worst call him a slur, either way there's sure to be a lot of misgendering from him, and pestering to know Jeff's deadname (needless to say, Jeff just doesn't tell peirce)
the whole group goes out of their way to keep their beach trips a secret from pierce (the girls don't want him there anyways, he's too liable to be creepy) even though jeff knows that even if pierce saw his scars, all he would have to do is make up a story about some childhood accident and pierce would never question it
sorry this ended up being super long. can I hear some of your headcanons for him?
YES ALL THIS!!! yes yes i’m fully accepting this as canon oh my god
i’m about to type a whole ass ESSAY at midnight because i have been DYING to talk about this for months ajfdksljk,,, this is going to be obscenely long and i might end up adding even more to it as i continue to rewatch the show because there is truly no shortage of trans jeff content (especially when you’re trans and see transness in every little thing ajdkslfkjs)
spoiler warning for literally everything about this show under the cut <3
i 100% agree, i feel like he realized he was trans super young, especially since in the show we see him as a little kid a couple of times. 
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like look at little jeff with the oversized sweatshirt and little ponytail!! that’s childhood trans fashion. not to be dramatic but part of me thinks that jeff’s dad left before he fully came out to his family (which gives him even more angst about it, because until that one Thanksgiving episode, he’s never able to prove to his dad that he’s a better man), but part of me thinks that his dad left after he came out (which adds that spicy i-should-have-stayed-in-the-closet guilt that he has to work through). 
either way, because his dad wasn’t there, he had to base his concept of masculinity on something else, which was becoming a lawyer!! there’s some line that’s like “after the dust and divorce papers were settled the only man i looked up to was [the lawyer guy]”. like, replacing your father figure in your mind with the concept of “a job where you can talk your way in and out of anything and distort other people’s concept of reality”? that’s trans.
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 and the fucking THANKSGIVING EPISODE... i struggle to watch it without crying hehe <3 yeowch! the dichotomy of willy jr. being the “wrong” kind of man because he’s “too soft” but jeff also not being enough despite adhering to all the social standards of masculinity... fuck!! this whole scene of him telling his dad “i am Not well adjusted” and talking about how he gave himself an “appendix surgery scar” when he was a kid and he still keeps the get-well-soon letters from his classmates under his bed? oh my god. the implication of people loving him not despite his scars but because of them?? trans. i can’t think about this episode for too long or i’ll start yelling.
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OH and this scene? where he talks about how his mom got him a girl costume for halloween?? and everyone said “what a cute little girl” and after a few houses he stopped correcting them?? and “once the shame and the fear wore off, i was just glad they thought i was pretty”?? THAT’S TRANS... the man needs validation oh my god... and then in all the halloween episodes we see he has these ultra-masculine costumes (a cowboy, David Beckham, one of the fast and furious guys even though he never watched the movies, a boxer with his DAD’S boxing gloves... god) costumes are about becoming something else and he always chooses to be hypermasculine and that is trans.
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THE PHYSICAL EDUCATION EPISODE!!!!!!! being uncomfortable during P.E. is a queer experience. period. but him being specifically uncomfortable in the clothes someone else is assigning to him? trans. “are we gonna talk about clothes like a girl? or use tapered sticks to hit balls around a cushioned mat like a man?” TRANS. and him eventually stripping in public? celebration of transness. and the fact that he eventually becomes comfortable in both the uniform and his own style!! trans!! god i love this episode. 
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AND AND AND!!! the gay dean coming out episode!!! where it’s the three of them discussing the best way for the dean to come out as gay despite not entirely identifying with that label!! so we have both frankie and the dean who are sort of ambiguously queer, and jeff who’s a stealth trans man who’s probably only out to only the study group at this point. this scene where the dean and jeff have this like eyebrow communication while frankie is talking is just so cute. queer-to-queer communication. “I am so curious” “oh?” “intellectually.” “oh...” ajfdksljfk this scene just screams high school GSA to me and i love it so much.
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and SPEAKING of the dean!! i totally see you on that. i feel like jeff has some internalized homophobia/biphobia (like he’d throw punches over someone else, but when it comes to himself he has a lot of shame). and also seeing the dean so confident in all his different outfits/costumes has a weird affect on him bc it’s like “okay, the dean, a cis guy, can do that, but i as a trans guy could Not because that’s Breaking the Rules”. which, like, throwback to the halloween thing. of course there’s no right way to be masculine, but mr. winger does not know that.
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another thing!! the episode where their emails get leaked? that includes his emails with his therapist. fuck!! he was outed to the whole world in that episode!! no wonder he was so fucking angry!! this whole episode (and really any time he mentions his therapist) is so interesting when you think about them as a person he talks to about his transition. OH which adds to the thing with the dean!! “and you told your therapist you wanted to be alone this weekend” and “not you jeff, i know you’ll be visiting your dad” ”I told you to stop reading my emails”. luckily his study group has his back and just makes fun of him for emailing astronauts lmao
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and WHO can forget “they’re giving out an award for most handsome young man!!!!” what else is there to say about this line besides: he’s trans. you know he didn’t get awarded enough for being a handsome young man when he was a kid, and no amount of compliments when he’s fully-grown can really make up for that. some people crash a kid’s bar mitzvah to cope with the fact that they struggled to be seen as themselves when they were a teenager <3
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also his weird relationship with pierce? where he kind of hates him (understandably lmao) but at times has this almost-friends-almost-father-son relationship with him? especially in this episode where he’s forced to bond with him and ends up having a good time by accident (at a barber shop no less, the perfect place to Be A Man with your Man Friend). idk what to say about him besides the fact that pierce says his mom wanted a girl when he was born and made him dress like a girl (and his middle name is anastasia!) so if they’re gonna do any bonding over transness it’s gonna be that. 
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okay one last thing and then i’ll shut up for the night. this episode kills me (and almost kills jeff hahahahelpi’mcrying). it’s a very Trans thing to not be able to visualize your future self, it just is. growing up trans at the time he did? i don’t know what kind of future he saw for himself, but i’m so happy that he ended up with a group of friends who became his family and love him the way they all do. i’m so emotional over this asshole it’s ridiculous. 
in conclusion:
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they’re trans, your honor <3
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stereostevie · 4 years ago
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When you think of grunge, do you picture a bunch of long-haired White guys in plaid shirts, singing about teenage angst and self-loathing? Time to expand that viewpoint. Standing above them all should be Tina Bell, a tiny Black woman with an outsized stage presence, and her band, Bam Bam. It’s only recently that the 1980s phenom has begun to be recognized as a godmother of grunge.
This modern genre’s sound was, in many ways, molded by a Black woman. The reason she is mostly unknown has everything to do with racism and misogyny. Looking back at the beginnings of grunge, with the preconception that “everybody involved” was White and/or male, means ignoring the Black woman who was standing at the front of the line.
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Bam Bam was formed as a punk band in 1983 in Seattle. Bell, a petite brown-skinned spitfire with more hairstyle changes than David Bowie, sang lead vocals and wrote most of the lyrics. Her then-husband Tommy Martin was on guitars (the band’s name is an acronym of their last names: Bell And Martin), Scotty “Buttocks” Ledgerwood played bass, and Matt Cameron was on drums. Cameron would leave the band in its first year and go on to fame as the drummer for Soundgarden and Pearl Jam. But he paid homage to his beginnings by wearing a Tina Bell T-shirt in a photoshoot for Pearl Jam’s 2017 Anthology: the Complete Scores book.
“For some reason a couple of skinheads are up front, calling her [the N-word] And all of the sudden, Bell grabs a microphone stand and she starts swirling it around her head like a lasso… She swung that fuckin’ thing around her head and about the fourth time, she smashed that son of a bitch.”
Bam Bam’s sound straddled the line between punk and something so new that it didn’t have a name yet. Their music combined a driving, thrumming bass line; downtuned, sludgy guitars; thrashy, pulsing drums; melodic vocals that range from sultry to haunting to screamy; and lyrics about the existential tension of trying to exist in a world not designed for you. The band’s 1984 music video for their single “Ground Zero” is low-budget, but Bell’s charisma seeps through.
“She was fucking badass. That’s all there is to it. She was amazing as a performer. I’ve only seen one White male lead singer command the stage in a similar way that Tina Bell did, and that was Bon Scott of AC/DC,” says Om Johari, who attended Bam Bam shows as a Black teenager in the ’80s and who would go on to lead all-female AC/DC cover band Hell’s Belles.
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Christina King, a Seattle scenester who was close friends with Bell from 1984 until the early ’90s, says the singer’s talent was obvious. But she believes a lot of people dismissed Bell as a gimmick.
Among those attending their shows: Future members of grunge bands like Nirvana (Kurt Cobain did a stint as a Bam Bam roadie), Soundgarden, Alice in Chains, and Pearl Jam.
“I remember one person saying to me that they didn’t get ‘the whole Black girl singer thing,’ it just didn’t fit whatever they were into,” says King. “They were too ahead of their time.”
Bam Bam came into being in an era when hundreds of underground clubs, taverns, bars, and social halls — anywhere that you could cram in a band — were within the Seattle city limits. Bam Bam played almost all of them, and often to big crowds: The Colourbox, Crocodile Lounge, Gorilla Gardens, Squid Row — just to name a few.
Among those attending their shows: Future members of history-making grunge bands like Nirvana (Kurt Cobain did a stint as a Bam Bam roadie), Soundgarden, Alice in Chains, and Pearl Jam. Not to mention all the other people, mostly White and male, who would become prime targets for music labels trying to market this new sound.
Bell “already possessed everything they were trying to attain. She had a truer rock and roll spirit than almost any of those guys in that town. Everything they tried to do, she naturally was,” says Ledgerwood, still a loyal bandmate.
One Seattle club, The Metropolis, became “like our fucking living room,” says Ledgerwood. It was also the site of an overtly racist verbal assault against Tina Bell.
“For some reason a couple of skinheads are up front, calling her [the N-word],” Ledgerwood recalls. “And all of the sudden, Bell grabs a microphone stand and she starts swirling it around her head like a lasso… She swung that fuckin’ thing around her head and about the fourth time, she smashed that son of a bitch… She nailed that fucker right in the temple of his head. Split like a melon. And the other guy next to him caught it too, they go down, and we’re like, ‘What the fuck?’”
Ledgerwood says that after going backstage for a while to regroup, Bell came back “and put out the most blistering set of our fucking career.”
This could easily be an anecdote about Bell’s power, her resilience, and willingness to fight back against oppressive forces. But it’s also a story about the cost of being a Black woman who does something that some people don’t expect or approve of.
“She’s being pulled out of her zone because somebody is acknowledging how the rest of the world can see her,” says Johari, empathizing with the star rocker. “And even to react to it by picking up a microphone and smashing someone in the face, that means that that incident cost her not only that moment it takes to get back into the song, but the whole [effects of her] action will last for weeks.
“She’ll replay that over and over and over and over again. And then the people she sees that were there when it happened, they’re gonna come up to her and they’re gonna forget everything that she’s saying, all the stuff that she had did, and they’re only going to focus on, ‘I was at that show where you knocked a dude in the head for calling you an N-word,’” Johari says. “It has nothing to do with her artistry. But it reminds her of the way in which she has to be prepared, just in case it happens again.”
King remembers Bell also felt that some of the other men in the band’s changing lineup failed to treat her as an equal partner: “She’s getting that from her own band members — what do you think audience people are like?”
A European tour in the late ’80s gained Bam Bam international fans, but ended after Bell and Martin split up, and Bell was caught in an immigration enforcement dragnet in the Netherlands.
When they returned to the Pacific Northwest, Bam Bam continued playing shows until 1990, when Bell abruptly quit as they were packing up to head to the studio in Portland, Ore.
“She had just had enough,” Ledgerwood says. “For almost eight years she had almost literally eviscerated herself for the audience.”
But that work never resulted in the national recognition they deserved.
“Grunge, whatever that means, is being identified as from your community, your colleagues, your sound that you were a participant in help shaping, and you’re not even mentioned in any of it.”
“Sometimes you need to be a little bit of an asshole to protect yourself. And Bell wasn’t much of an asshole,” Ledgerwood adds. “She was a pure-hearted person and had a really hard time believing that people couldn’t accept her over something as stupid as race.”
Bell didn’t just quit the band, she withdrew from music completely, says her son, Oscar-winning documentary filmmaker TJ Martin. Not out of resentment, he adds, but perhaps to escape the painful reminders that the music she helped pioneer was now earning other bands multimillion-dollar record contracts.
“Grunge, whatever that means, is being identified as from your community, your colleagues, your sound that you were a participant in help shaping, and you’re not even mentioned in any of it,” Martin says. “I can’t even fathom what that would feel like for it to be sort of spit back in your face with such frequency.”
Ledgerwood believes Bell died of a broken heart. But when Bell died alone in her Las Vegas apartment in 2012, the official cause of death listed was cirrhosis of the liver. She had struggled with alcohol and depression. Her son says the coroner estimated her time of death as a couple weeks before her body was discovered. She was 55 years old.
The things that could have told Tina Bell’s story in her own voice are lost. Martin arrived in Las Vegas to find that the contents of his mother’s apartment — except for a DVD player, a poster, and a chair — had been thrown away. All of her writings — lyrics, poems, diaries — along with Bam Bam music, videos, and other memorabilia — went in the trash without her family even being notified.
If you think you were in Seattle in the ’80s, in the grunge scene, and you don’t remember Tina Bell and Bam Bam, you probably weren’t really fucking there.
“I couldn’t help draw a parallel between her not being respected and seen in the first chapter of her life, as the front person of a punk band, and then even in death being disrespected and not being seen for the merits of the life she lived,” says Martin.
Bell’s death is also an indictment of the way she was written out of her own story. The way grunge’s almighty gatekeepers chose to look through her instead of at her. Grunge became the domain of alienated young White men in flannel shirts, and Tina Bell didn’t fit the narrative they were trying to sell.
“Black herstory can suffer immense amounts of erasure if somebody is not brave enough to ensure that women get counted,” Johari says.
To many of those who were part of the scene at the time, the amnesia seems intentional. Ledgerwood brings up the seminal history of Seattle’s grunge era, Everybody Loves Our Town. In it, the author refers to Bam Bam as a three-piece instrumental band mainly notable because Matt Cameron was the drummer. Tina Bell isn’t even mentioned.
“How in the hell would he have a recollection of how great Bam Bam and its drummer was, and not this unbelievably beautiful woman, this firecracker, this explosive rock and roll goddess?” Ledgerwood asks. “Even if he thought she sucked, to not remember the only Black woman on the whole fuckin’ scene is — well, it’s like that old joke about the ’60s: If you think you were in Seattle in the ’80s, in the grunge scene, and you don’t remember Tina Bell and Bam Bam, you probably weren’t really fucking there.”
You can listen to more of Bam Bam’s music on this Spotify playlist. A vinyl album with the band’s songs is coming out this year on Bric-a-Brac Records.
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sentakushimasu · 3 years ago
Text
diving off the deep end, breathe slow
pairing: sero hanta/iida tenya summary: Sero drowns during a training exercise. Today doesn't make Iida's list of top ten favourite days. genre: hurt/comfort, whump word count: 11.4k warnings: drowning, cpr, hospitals, slight vomit warning (no actual vomiting), hypothermia title from: dayseeker - drunk AO3
Sero tried to ignore the pang of disappointment in his chest as he saw Aizawa’s allocated teams. They were supposed to be randomly generated but Sero couldn’t help but feel like the world was out to get him.
Iida wasn’t on his team yet again.
It wasn’t a big deal, but every time they had a big scale training session, Sero wanted to try working on a team up with his boyfriend. They both had quirks that made them incredibly mobile, but they needed to work better in combat as a team.
Aizawa, however, seemed dead set on preventing that from happening.
Sero had to suppress a yelp as an arm wrapped around his neck and dragged him staggering along. He regained his balance as Kirishima let go of him, grinning widely.
Kirishima, Mina, Shinsou and himself in a team. They could make this work.
They’d all been arranged into five teams of four, tasked with placing quirk suppressing handcuffs on members of the other teams. Kirishima took the role of their self-proclaimed leader and happily accepted the five pairs of cuffs to share between the team. They’d been given the red ones, making it easier to keep track of who was cuffed by which team.
The other teams had other colours, and other interesting combinations of quirks. The blue team, consisting of Iida (their appointed leader), Yaoyorozu, Tsuyu and Uraraka, were likely going to be scarily efficient despite their lack of flashy quirks.
The green team was led by Deku, which, if that wasn’t scary enough, was followed by Shouji, Satou and Todoroki. Sero had to suppress a shudder just looking at that team. The only member who couldn’t easily snap him in half like a twig, could make mountains of ice and pyres of fire without batting an eye. He really hoped another team dealt with them before his team had the misfortune of running into them.
Less intimidating was the yellow team, fronted by Sero’s partner in crime, accompanied by Ojirou, Hagakure and Aoyama. Any team that let Kaminari take charge was not one that Sero felt the need to be scared of.
Bakugou was already barking out orders to the black team. Sero cringed in sympathy for Kouda, Jirou and Tokoyami. Their self-appointed leader was bound to run off on his own, leaving them without much opportunity to intimidate anyone they ran into. Tokoyami could be pretty terrifying in his own right, but going up against a team with Deku and Todoroki? He didn’t stand a chance.
Aizawa interrupted them, speaking in a bored tone, “the first team to use all of their quirk cuffs wins. No, you cannot cuff your teammates, doing so results in immediate disqualification for the entire team.”
Iida’s hand shot up. “Can we use the other teams’ handcuffs if we become separated from our team?”
“The team the cuffs belong to gets the point.”
Uraraka was the next one to raise her hand. “If we handcuff someone with their team’s handcuffs will their team still get disqualified?”
Aizawa paused for a second, regarding Uraraka with a lethargic look. “Yes.”
Okay, Sero had officially decided that the blue team was kind of terrifying. He wasn’t going to let himself be fooled by Uraraka’s round cheeks or the pink-heavy colour scheme of her hero outfit; she was out for blood.
As it turns out, Iida’s team was the only one asking any questions as Yaomomo joined the discussion. “Do we have to cuff both of their hands?”
“No, it’s the same as your previous exams. If you cuff one hand or ankle, you get the point.”
Mina leaned over and gave Sero a well-placed elbow to his ribs. “Don’t let glasses distract you, he’ll steal your handcuffs and disqualify our whole team while you’re busy making heart eyes.”
Sero just rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t let that happen.”
As if to exemplify the fact that Sero was a filthy liar, he made eye contact with Iida who promptly gave him a wave that he returned with what was undoubtedly an utterly lovesick grin if Mina’s exaggerated fake gagging was anything to go by.
“We’re screwed,” she whined.
Sero gave her a half-hearted glare. “You have such little faith in me.”
Aizawa directed their attention to a map of the training grounds they were located in today. Between the cityscape of ground beta and the added area of the river and its surrounding banks, clearly he was prepared for a lot of big scale altercations. There were five markings on the map, all with a colour corresponding to the different teams.
“Every team has a starting location and the next fifteen minutes to get there
Most of the teams’ locations were within ground beta, aside from the red dot next to the bridge and the blue dot a little ways down the path from the bridge, away from ground beta. Great, an area that Sero couldn’t even swing the majority of, and they were completely exposed to the wind.
He was beginning to think that it was much too cold for outdoor training. As he trailed behind Kirishima and Mina. Shinsou hung back but Sero didn’t hold it against him, they were certainly a much louder group than the purple haired boy would be comfortable with.
Although that didn’t explain why he still let Kaminari follow him around like a hyperactive clingy puppy.
After all, Sero, one of the most chaotic and academically-underwhelming members of class 1-A had somehow managed to be dating Mr Perfect, the class president, for the past four months. Now that had been a shock to the rest of the class, most of all, Sero Hanta whose heart still skipped a beat when Iida reached out to take his hand.
Shinsou at least looked like his hero suit wasn’t going to let him freeze, his capture weapon even seeming to act like a scarf. The same could not be said for anyone else on their team as they began the trek down the pathway up to the bridge.
“Kiri, how are you not a popsicle? You have sleeves but no shirt!” Mina claimed as she shivered.
“I’m invincible,” Kirishima shrugged as he tapped a hardened fist on his now hardened chest. For dramatic effect.
“It’s too cold to be outside,” Sero piped up, rubbing his arms in an attempt to keep the blood circulating. He was kind of hoping that they ran into Todoroki during training, at least being gently roasted alive was better than the cold he was currently experiencing.
Maybe when the exercise started, they would be able to warm up, but the distance between them and the closest group was quite significant and he wasn’t sure they’d be too into an all-out battle.
Maybe if Yaoyorozu made a net and Sero accidentally let himself get caught, Iida would carry him back to base. That was always an option.
The bridge was a good location. From their position in the middle of it, they would be able to see anyone trying to sneak up on them. It was a better vantage point than what the blue team had, that’s for sure.
The group was just standing on the path along the riverbank, Yaoyorozu already sparkling as she used her quirk. As Sero squinted his eyes he could tell that she was handing a jacket to Tsu, he couldn’t help but to feel sympathy for his classmate who was much more sensitive to the cold than everyone else.
There was a ringing noise coming from the wristband Kirishima had been given as their team’s acting leader, to signal the start of the exercise.
“Theoretically, we could just wait for them to come to us,” Shinsou offered. “Let Bakugou deal with Midoriya and Todoroki before he tries to blow our heads off.”
“Good plan,” Sero supplies, trying to show Shinsou some support. “I’ll swing up the bridge supports and keep an eye out if you guys want to sit by the railing and stay out of the wind.”
Mina eyed him warily. “What about you? The wind is gonna be worse up there.”
Sero shrugged. “Pro-hero Cellophane isn’t bothered by the cold.”
“You’re not a pro yet,” Mina corrected him, folding her arms across her chest.
“If you get too cold you’ll come back down, right?” Shinsou asked, his voice laced with an emotion Sero couldn’t pinpoint. “If you faint up there, it would be bad news.”
“I’ll be extra careful,” Sero said with a wink.
Kirishima gave Sero a thumbs up and at that, Sero turned to look up at the structure of the bridge, quickly dispensing his tape.
As the tape curled around the support beam and held its position as Sero gave it a firm tug, he used it to propel himself upwards.
It had probably only been five minutes of Sero leaning against the cold metal of the bridge’s support beams before their first challengers arrived. Sero could see two figures headed towards them. Smaller in stature and both dressed dark, it only took Sero a few seconds to identify Jirou and Tokoyami.
Jirou, they could handle pretty easily. Tokoyami would be trouble.
Mina and Kirishima wouldn’t be at all effective against Dark Shadow, so that match would come down to Sero and Shinsou.
Scratch that, it came down to Sero.
He’d only just managed to swing down onto the bridge and alert his team to their visitors before Jirou’s quirk ripped through the air.
The volume disoriented Sero for a moment, knocking him off balance before he could swing himself back up into the air. He needed to incapacitate Jirou if they had any hope of using Shinsou’s quirk. If Tokoyami couldn’t hear him speak, he couldn’t be brainwashed.
Sparing a glance behind him, Sero noticed that Mina and Shinsou were both struggling to stay oriented as the sound assaulted their senses. It was no Present Mic, but it was powerful enough to pose a threat to their group when their most powerful quirk needed to be heard to work.
They were lucky that Sero at least had a quirk that worked long distance because while Kirishima and Mina had to get close to their opponent to use their quirks, Sero was able to maneuver through the air.
He had gotten much better at using his quirk midair during his time at UA, able to turn and shoot another reel of tape at the railing across the bridge and pull himself back down to the ground.
His landing was smooth as he folded himself to roll across the asphalt and up onto his feet.
He would never complain about the gymnastics classes his mum had forced him into during middle school ever again.
With another spin, he was wrapping his tape around Jirou and yanking her towards him, her arms pinned to her sides. She was too startled to maintain her quirk, whipping her earphone jacks towards Sero, likely in hopes of deterring him.
It didn’t work. Of course. As Sero slapped the quirk suppressant cuffs on her wrist.
He offered Jirou an apologetic smile as she glared at him.
The moment was cut short by an impact sending Sero flying to the side.
He quickly adjusted his form so that he rolled on impact with the ground and could easily pull himself back up on his knees. Only to find himself faced with Dark Shadow moving towards him, swooping side to side menacingly.
Sero was a big fan of the sentient quirk, it was like having a dog in the dorms, if dogs were made of shadows and could speak. What he didn’t like about Dark Shadow, was its ability to absolutely throttle him right now.
Forcing himself to his feet, Sero started to back away from the quirk, hoping that his team would figure something out while he had the threat distracted. If Dark Shadow focused its attention on someone else then Sero could possibly manage to restrain Tokoyami and cuff him if he was fast enough.
“Tokoyami, help!” Jirou called out, sounding so panicked that even Sero’s head snapped up at the sound.
Just in time to see Tokoyami’s expression go blank and his stance lose its tension. The consequence of calling out to his teammate in concern.
Shinsou was kneeling on the ground a few metres away, his hand still on his mask, his unruly purple hair moving in the wind. Clever.
Dark Shadow was quick to snap its attention to Tokoyami, fussing over the boy who wasn’t responding to him.
Sero saw his opportunity and took it.
He shot out the tape, wrapping it around Tokoyami to restrain him in case something interrupted Shinsou’s mind control.
Dark Shadow quickly retreated back into Tokoyami and Sero couldn’t help the proud smile spreading across his face as he nodded at Shinsou and gave him a thumbs up.
Shinsou’s quirk was officially his favourite. That was badass.
Their relief was soon interrupted by a loud clatter.
Sero’s eyes fell on the black handcuffs now sitting in the middle of the bridge. Which could only mean that someone else was here, and Sero sincerely doubted that Kouda would be dropping things from a height like that. Which left the last person Sero wanted to fight right now. Bakugou Katsuki.
The sound of an explosion confirmed his suspicions.
The dropped handcuffs weren’t a mistake, they were a threat.
Sero barely had a second to shoot out more tape and grab Shinsou, pulling his teammate towards him as Bakugou descended on the place where he stood, his hands popping with explosions.
With his hands on Shinsou’s shoulders, Sero steadied the purple haired boy, loosening the hold of the tape.
“Are you hurt?” Sero asked quickly, his eyes worriedly scanning Shinsou for any signs that the tape hadn’t been fast enough.
Shinsou looked thoroughly spooked but shook his head after a few seconds, snapping back into focus. “No.”
“Good. Did you cuff Tokoyami?”
Shinsou nodded. Great, that kept their threats to a minimum.
“Good job,” Sero said, giving Shinsou’s shoulder a supportive pat. “Stay where he can’t get you.”
Sero didn’t wait for a reply as he dispensed his tape and swung himself up into the fray.
Bakugou was fixated on Kirishima, hitting the boy’s hardened exterior with explosion after explosion. Sero cringed in sympathy, Kirishima said that it didn’t hurt but it still had to be hot.
Choosing that moment to look away from the fight, Sero turned to pull himself even higher up, reading another set of handcuffs in his non-dominant hand.
That was the easy part.
He turned back to the fight only to see that Bakugou had successfully cuffed Kirishima who was just staring at his wrist in shock. And Bakugou was notorious for not knowing when to quit as he reared up to set off another explosion at Kirishima.
Shooting out his tape in a panic, Sero grabbed Bakugou by his waist and tugged him away from the redhead. Only for the explosion to be rounded on him.
Bakugou missed his mark and Sero foolishly let Bakugou explode the tape that tethered them together.
His enemy was now airborne, setting off explosions as he hovered, staring at Sero with murderous intent. Sero hoped he looked good because this was going to be his last day alive with Bakugou looking at him like that.
Sero was a lot of things, a smart guy who thought things through before he did them was not one of them.
He shot out tape at a support beam directly across the bridge, and prayed that Bakugou didn’t sever it as he yanked himself to the other side. His other hand readied with the handcuffs.
In a stroke of dumb luck, Sero managed to clip the black handcuffs above Bakugou’s gauntlet. The older boy had made a mistake dropping those as a threat.
Sero had a split second to be proud of himself as the incessant sound of popping ceased before he realised that he was swinging over the edge of the bridge and Bakugou was plummeting.
He was getting too far away, forgetting to halt the unwinding of his tape until he was a ridiculous distance out from the bridge. There was no way he could reach the explosive teen now.
He shot a new piece of tap at the railing and tried to pull himself back down, turning to shoot a second strand towards Bakugou to hopefully help his descent.
The tape missed and Sero was swinging too low, on course to swing under the bridge before he could pull himself back up the other side.
Shinsou’s capture weapon caught Bakugou and Sero had to hope his fall wasn’t too dramatic as the top of the bridge left his eyesight.
He just had to swing under the bridge and come up on the other side, and then he’d be able to check on everyone. It would only take him a few seconds to be back topside.
Sero felt the release of tension in his tape and before he even realised what was happening, he was in freefall and on a collision course with the river. That was the thing about his quirk, the constant looming threat of falling. In his panic, he tried to fling out some more tape, hoping it would find a purchase on some part of the underside of the bridge.
Or the railing that entered his line of sight as he fell along the trajectory of his previous swing. He could almost swear he saw a head of fluffy pink hair peeking over the railing.
His tape failed to connect with anything as his body hit water.
Which was freezing.
The shock of the impact and the temperature drop had Sero taking an involuntary breath of nothing but water, the coldness eagerly filling his lungs and pushing out whatever air he had left. He wasn’t sure if his helmet was still on his head or if it was just whatever the opposite of watertight was.
Even opening his eyes to the assault of the cold water didn’t help his case. He couldn’t see any light to tell him which way the surface was. All he knew was that his lungs burned and he could do nothing more than try to swim and hope he wasn’t sinking.
He tried to stay calm, but there was really no option for him other than to panic and hope that someone fished him out of the water.
Kirishima would sink like a stone if he even dared to jump in after Sero, he would immediately harden in contact with the water. Mina and Shinsou could swim but the jump off the bridge was far too dangerous.
Maybe Bakugou could get to the water with his explosions, but Sero couldn’t remember if he’d be able to propel them out of the river even if he did go after Sero. He didn’t see the end of Bakugou’s fall, his friend could very well be dangerously injured, far too poorly off to help the one who was responsible for his fall.
His head was so foggy.
There was a different quality to the darkness that crept in around the corner of his vision in comparison to the darkness of the water. Sero had always thought he could hold his breath for a long time, but he guessed that the gut instinct of inhaling the water would be his undoing.
Sero vaguely recalled that there was another group, closer to the riverbank. He couldn’t remember who had been there, but he could only hope that Tsu was nearby, she was perhaps the only one who would be able to get him. She was very qualified with water rescues.
The fog was growing thicker, heavier, and Sero wasn’t sure he had the energy to keep up his fight towards the surface.
It was always fun when a training exercise became a rescue mission. He just hoped that someone fished him out before it was too late.
Everything was heavy and Sero let the water take him.
-
Iida’s entire team snapped to attention when they heard a scream.
“SERO!”
It was raw and filled with genuine terror. Iida felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over his head as he turned in the direction the scream came from. Just in time to see a dark form hit the water at a high speed, white strips of tape hanging uselessly in the air as they floated down onto the river’s surface.
With bated breath, everyone watched the surface of the water, waiting for Sero to surface.
Iida’s mind was a whirlwind. Had he hit his head? Had he been blown from the bridge by one of their classmates’ stronger quirks? Why had Iida yet to see his boyfriend’s hair pop out the top of the water?
No one needed to say anything before Asui was racing down the riverbank and throwing out her tongue.
Asui pulled Sero from the water with ease, how she had even known where he was, was beyond Iida. He would have to thank her later, after he checked on his boyfriend.
That water had to be freezing, and Iida was not unfamiliar with the knowledge that Sero would lose his body heat a lot faster in cold water. He was in his winter version of his suit but it wasn’t waterproof.
Sero’s helmet had fallen off at some point, maybe even prior to him hitting the water, Iida noticed as he raced over to meet him and Asui.
Iida didn’t know what he was expecting when he crashed to his knees next to his boyfriend’s wet form. Coughing and complaining? Sure. Sero being completely limp, soaked to the bone and not giving Iida’s presence any acknowledgement? Not what Iida expected.
Sero’s dark hair was plastered to his skin by the water, his eyes were closed, his lips and the tip of his nose going a jarring shade of purple and grey.
“Sero?”
Iida wrapped his hand around the top of Sero's shoulder, where it met the base of his neck. He tried to ignore how cold Sero felt to the touch, blaming it on the water, but the temperature of his skin had anxiety curling in Iida’s gut. "Sero? Hanta, can you hear me?"
Sero offered him no response, not even a twitch or grumble like he usually did when Iida bothered him while the older boy was trying to take a cat nap on the common room couch.
Okay. Bad news.
"Call an ambulance, and Aizawa-sensei!" Iida called out. It came out a lot shakier than he was expecting.
He leant down so that his cheek hovered above Sero's mouth and nose, his hand resting atop his boyfriend's chest. He was hoping, begging, for the sensation of air brushing against his face or movement under his hand, even the sound of Sero's breathing or the sight of his chest rising and falling.
Worse news.
Sero wasn't breathing.
Iida wasn't wearing his watch so he couldn't be certain that it had been ten seconds but he knew that it had been too long without any indication that Sero could breathe.
Aizawa regularly made them revise first aid so it wasn't like Iida didn't know what to do.
But there was a world of difference between a CPR dummy and turning his giggling boyfriend onto his side, and Sero being completely unresponsive and being entirely dependent on Iida to help him.
Taking a deep breath and trying to shove his anxiety deeper inside himself, Iida positioned himself. With his knees pressed up against Sero’s side, his right hand over his left and his elbows locked straight.
His mind was a whirlwind as he started the compressions. Was he pressing hard enough? Was it fast enough? Was he even helping?
He was quick to shove the thoughts out of his mind, he couldn’t afford to think about anything other than the compressions. If he hesitated or freaked out, it could cost Sero his life.
“Twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty,” Iida counted under his breath. He leant down to Sero’s face, his hands tilting his boyfriend’s head back and pinching his nose as Iida’s mouth covered Sero’s cold one.
Two breaths and he was back to pumping Sero’s heart for him. Iida’s head swam at the thought.
Iida was counting his way through his second ground of compressions when someone fell into place on Sero’s other side. Iida didn’t even bother to look up at who they were, he only cared about one thing right now, seeing Sero awake and breathing.
“Iida.” So it was Yaoyorozu next to him. “I have a defibrillator. Attach it while I do the breaths, okay?”
Iida nodded firmly. “Okay.”
Fuck, he’d forgotten all about the defibrillator in his panic. Had she made it? He tried to pull up the mental map of where AEDs were located around campus but it was all a blur in his head. He couldn’t think clearly about anything other than Hanta.
He says his “thirty” loud enough for Yaoyorozu to hear him and she snapped into action, passing the opened defibrillator to Iida as she placed a bag-valve-mask over Sero’s nose and mouth.
Either she was truly the best at locating things under pressure or she was incredible at using her complex quirk in a panic. Iida couldn’t rule out either.
He would be grateful for her for the rest of his life, he suspected.
Iida grabbed the shears from the defibrillator box and started to cut away Sero’s hero costume. It was a simple motion, starting at the base of Sero’s throat and stopping just above his pelvis.
Vaguely, Iida was aware that Sero’s chest was falling for the second time and Yaoyorozu was setting the bag valve mask down next to his head.
“I’ll get it, you do compressions.”
Iida couldn’t find it in him to say anything, getting back into the rhythm of pushing on Sero’s chest. It was more physically draining than he had expected, his arms ached and his chest was begging to feel tight with the exhaustion. But he couldn’t stop. He would keep going until Sero’s heart was beating on its own.
Out of the corner of his eye, Iida can see Yaoyorozu peeling back the film on the AED pads so he took over the breaths for her. He didn’t even bother fumbling with the mask that was on the other side of Sero.
In the span of two rescue breaths, Yaoyorozu had dried off Sero’s torso with a towel that would have seemingly appeared out of midair if Iida didn’t know any better and attached the pads to his chest.
Iida hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do.
Yaoyorozu’s voice was firm yet comforting as she spoke. “Keep going.”
Thankfully, at least one of them could keep their head on straight right now.
As Iida continued the compressions, his heart breaking ten times over with every one, Yaoyorozu called out to someone outside of his field of vision.
“Uraraka, can you use the bag mask? Just squeeze it twice when Iida does thirty compressions.”
There was a silent exchange and another body kneeling on the ground with them.
The AED made a noise when Iida stopped his compressions. How long had it been? It felt like a lifetime. The amicable chatter he had been exchanging with Asui and Uraraka as they walked down the riverbank seemed like it had happened forever ago. Where was Aizawa? They needed help.
“Analysing rhythm, don’t touch the patient.”
Iida snatched his hands away from where they hovered close to Sero, shuffling back until his knees were no longer touching his boyfriend.
They waited with baited breath for the machine’s verdict.
“No shock advised. Continue compressions.”
Iida was back in position in less than a second, pushing down on his boyfriend’s chest again. Sero’s sternum was firm below the heel of Iida’s palm.
How many times had he languidly traced his fingers across Sero’s skin, trailing ghosts of fingertips over his boyfriend’s sternum, a flat palm pressed over where Iida could feel the strong thumping of Sero’s heart? He’d become so accustomed to just reaching out and touching Sero, it was normal, but this wasn’t like that.
There was no sight of black eyes watching him carefully as Sero’s lips curled into a smile, a soft “I love you” on his tongue.
The stupid monotonous “press, press, press” from the AED was not helping to ease Iida’s panic. He couldn’t do more than try to tune it out.
“Come on, Hanta,” Iida pleaded, his voice breaking with the pent up emotion he had accumulated in the past few minutes. “Breathe.” Iida was still pressing on Sero’s chest, hoping that with every thrust downwards that it would spur Sero into motion. “Please, Hanta. You have to breathe!”
Yaoyorozu and Uraraka both refrained from saying anything as the tears started to fall, Iida couldn’t keep them at bay anymore. He was tired, he was desperate, and Sero was still cold and unresponsive.
His tears hit the back of Iida’s hand, others pooling on Sero’s skin.
Aizawa couldn’t have picked a better or worse time to show up.
There was some shuffling and Aizawa was kneeling on the other side of Sero, Yaoyorozu having moved to take over the position by Sero’s head. Where did Uraraka go?
“Iida,” Aizawa said. He was clearly out of breath. Had he run to them? Iida didn’t doubt that his teacher would. After all, he’d proven himself willing to give his life for them. “Next round you’re swapping out with me,” he commanded in a low voice.
Iida shook his head. “I can’t”.
“You can. You’re tired and you need to let me take over. You’ve done well, let me help, Iida.”
Iida couldn’t keep up his argument. Aizawa was right, he was tired.
As he finished his round of compressions, he leant back heavily, turning his legs so that he didn’t sit on his engines.
Aizawa offered him a sympathetic look, but there was an edge to it - worry.
Iida couldn’t do anything more than watch as Aizawa took over. He kept his eyes trained on Sero’s face, mostly obscured by the mask. Yaoyorozu also had tears in her eyes but with her lips pressed into a firm line, they didn’t spill.
That’s when it really sank in.
This was supposed to be a routine training exercise, and now Sero might not walk away from it. How did everything go so wrong so quickly?
Aizawa was still going when he spoke, “Sero, if you open your eyes, I’ll give you an A on every test left in the semester.”
There was a weird quality to his voice. Iida wasn’t used to hearing this much identifiable emotion from his teacher, a plea with the unconscious kid he was supposed to take care of, masked in useless humour.
Sero would laugh if he made Aizawa cry. It had always been such a bizarre thing to think about, but Iida wasn’t so sure anymore.
His timing was almost comical.
As Aizawa started on his second round of compressions, the student beneath him jolted, spitting up water as he desperately tried to suck air into his lungs.
“Sero!” Yaoyorozu exclaimed, Iida had no doubt that she was crying those tears now.
“Turn him on his side,” Aizawa instructed as he slid his hands under Sero’s shoulder and hip, turning him towards Iida who quickly moved to help guide Sero into a stable side position.
He was breathing, and it finally felt like Iida could breathe too.
Sero was coughing as his chest spasmed, emptying his lungs of filthy river water.
Yaoyorozu was cooing and brushing Sero’s hair out of his face. If the tape user was more aware right now he probably would have been blushing at the ministrations, but currently they just helped to settle his panicked writhing.
“Just breathe, Sero,” Iida says, his voice uncharacteristically shaky but no one dares question it. He’s completely focused on holding Sero steady as he breathes. The sound is laboured and wheezy but it’s the most beautiful thing Iida has ever heard.
Iida doesn’t even look when Aizawa unwraps his capture weapon from around his neck and slides the bundle of fabric under Sero’s head. His scarred and much bigger than Yaoyorozu’s hand rested against the back of his student’s wet head for a few moments before he retracted it, instead opting to hold onto Sero’s wrist, feeling his pulse and looking at his watch on his other wrist.
“You did good, kid. Focus on breathing.”
Sero let out a weak and breathless laugh. He seemed to be done with coughing up the water, much to Iida’s relief. “Praise from Aizawa-sensei, I really must be dead.”
Aizawa didn’t look up from his watch. “Do you know where you are?”
“Somewhere wet,” Sero grumbled before shuddering. “I’m cold.”
“Yaoyorozu, do you think you could make him a blanket?”
Iida looked up at Yaoyorozu, only really looking at her at this moment. Her eyes were red and her face tear-streaked, she looked exhausted. He felt bad that Aizawa was asking her to do even more after she just exhausted herself and her quirk to save Sero’s life.
But Sero was shivering pretty aggressively under Iida’s hold. His lips and nose were still discoloured, and from this angle he could see that the purple tint extended to Sero’s eyelids.
She nodded. “Of course.”
Aizawa wrote something on the back of his hand as he set Sero’s hand down. Iida had no idea where his teacher had produced the pen but he was fairly impressed with Aizawa’s efficiency and professionalism. Especially considering that Iida and Yaoyorozu were both still crying. The wetness on Aizawa’s cheeks did not evade the class representative’s notice though.
As the sparkles in the corner of Iida’s vision died down, he was handed the corner of a very fluffy blanket, Aizawa taking the other as they tucked it around Sero.
“The ambulance is almost here,” Uraraka’s voice chirped helpfully from behind Iida. He hadn’t realised that she was still there.
“Thank you, Uraraka. Do you think you and Asui can meet them when they enter the training grounds and guide them here?” Aizawa asked, his voice so soft it was frankly unnerving.
“Of course, sensei!”
And with that, the two girls were gone.
“Tenya?” Sero croaked, snapping Iida back to focus.
“Yeah?”
If Aizawa noticed the use of Iida’s given name, he didn’t give any indication. Maybe he was just too relieved that Sero was alive to care much about anything else. The teacher just continued to kneel there with a hand on Sero’s back and his eyes on his watch.
“Are you okay?” Sero asked softly, reaching for Iida with a clumsy hand. Cold fingers wrapping around Iida’s own.
Iida takes a few seconds to be surprised. “What?”
“You’re crying.”
“I’m just glad you’re okay, that’s all.”
“Hmm,” Sero hums thoughtfully. “I like it better when you smile.”
They kept up the random chatter until the ambulance arrived. Aizawa took the role of talking to the paramedics and Iida was incredibly grateful for that, he wasn’t sure he could get through a sentence without crying at the moment. He was feeling very emotionally raw.
The paramedics were nice enough to work around Iida, whom Sero was still holding onto.
Sero grumbled when one of the paramedics secured an oxygen mask to his face, letting go of Iida’s hand to try and remove it. He was sitting up now but his eyes were still glossy and he didn’t seem entirely present. Iida snatched Sero’s hand back with a firm look.
“Don’t do that.”
“It feels weird,” Sero whined, his voice muffled by the oxygen mask.
“Too bad. Don’t drown next time.” Iida felt kind of guilty when he was being so strict with Sero, but he wasn’t about to let his boyfriend interfere with his medical care.
“You’re so mean to me.”
Iida was about to respond but he was interrupted by one of the paramedics, he was unsure if it was the same one that gave Sero the oxygen mask or not. “Do you think you can stand?”
Sero paused for a second, mulling over the question before he gave the paramedic a shake of his head.
“That’s okay, we can go at your pace. You can sit here for a little longer and try again or we could figure out some other option that suits you,” the paramedic said in such a comforting tone that even Iida felt reassured.
Sero seemed to perk up at that. “Can Tenya pick me up?”
Iida internally groaned. Their relationship was not going to be a secret from Aizawa after today.
“If that’s what you’re both comfortable with, then sure, I’ll just hold onto the oxygen tank and we’ll get you on the gurney and loaded into the ambulance, okay? It’s much warmer than out here, too.”
Iida had no qualms about lifting Sero. His boyfriend weighed basically nothing and loved being carried around regularly. Sometimes he would be too tired to be bothered walking up to his dorm and made Iida scoop him up and take him there to prevent him from sleeping on the couch and waking up with a crick in his neck.
With an arm under Sero’s shoulders and another behind his knees, Iida easily lifted his partner. It was only a matter of steps to the elevated surface of the gurney which he nestled Sero on easily.
The other paramedic was quick to cover Sero in blankets, especially considering that the one Yaoyorozu kindly provided was pretty much soaked through at this point. Iida hoped she would get some rest when she got back to the dorms, but figured most of the class would wait up for news on their classmate’s condition.
As the paramedics loaded the gurney into the ambulance, one of them turned to speak. “Who’s riding with?”
Iida turned to Aizawa, expecting to be given instructions to handle the class while Aizawa went with Sero to the hospital but Aizawa just nodded his head in the direction of the ambulance. “Go ahead.”
“But sensei-”
“No buts. I’ll wrap things up here and meet you at the hospital. I trust you can handle things for an hour.”
“I- thank you sensei!” Iida said, following his boyfriend into the back of the ambulance.
Turning back to look at Aizawa who was bending over to pick up his sodden capture scarf off the ground, Iida saw the group of their classmates that had gathered. Only a few of them were there, but they all looked off.
Iida’s entire group was there, of course. Yaoyorozu was folding up the soaked blanket she had made for Sero, her face still covered in tears. Uraraka had her arms around Tsuyu, both of them looking worse for wear.
At some point that Iida would not have been able to pinpoint if he tried, Sero’s team had joined them. Ashido was holding onto Kirishima, looking like she’d barely just stopped crying, Kirishima didn’t look much better, his own face streaked with tears. Shinsou hung back from the two, his mask in his hand as he watched everything with wide eyes.
Bakugou wasn’t a member of either group but he was there, looking uncharacteristically solemn. Iida idly wondered how much they’d seen. Bakugou was not known for being quiet, and he was just standing there with a vacant look as his arms hung limply by his side.
Iida turned back to Sero just in time to see him giving his friends a wave.
Out of everyone, he seemed to be taking it the best. He was soaked to the bone, visibly exhausted and had an oxygen mask strapped to his face but he still smiled when he met Iida’s eye.
-
“Tenya don’t let them take my suit,” Sero called out. Iida was growing more accustomed to Sero speaking through the oxygen mask, making communication much easier. It also helped that Sero was now a lot more aware than he had been in the ambulance.
“It’s beyond salvation, you’re going to need a new one,” Iida stated.
Sero just whined at him. “I don’t want them to cut my suit.”
Iida looked over at the nurse who was already most of the way done cutting the fabric away from Sero’s skin. “I already cut it.”
“But it’s okay when you do it.”
“If you’re brave and listen to the hospital staff, you’ll be able to go home earlier.”
Sero perked up at that. “Really? Can we watch a movie back at the dorms?”
“If you’re feeling up to it when you get discharged, then sure,” Iida said with a soft smile. He rubbed his palms against his thighs, cursing how uncomfortable it was to wear his suit for non-hero purposes. He did not design it with sitting in a chair in mind.
The other issue was that his hands would not stop shaking. It had been a solid half an hour of sitting in the ER with Sero but Iida couldn’t quell the constant trembling. It wasn’t even subtle, he had planned on texting the class group chat with an update but he couldn’t hold his phone steady for long enough to even unlock it.
Sero had noticed, pretty early on actually, he mumbled something about Iida’s shaky hands and offered to hold them. That had lasted for a short while until Sero had gotten tired of trying to comfort Iida. He was very exhausted, losing the energy to do much more than pipe up occasionally when he thought of something funny that he wanted to share.
Iida sincerely doubted that Sero would be able to hold out for an entire movie by the time they got back to the dorms. That was unless the doctor decided to keep Sero overnight, which was still possible.
However, Iida really hoped that wasn’t the case. He wasn’t sure he could handle going back to the dorms for the night and not being able to confirm his boyfriend’s safety with his own eyes.
If the anxiety seized him right now, he could just reach out and take Sero’s hand or look across the bed at the monitor that beeps to reaffirm that Sero’s heart was beating fine.
Iida wasn’t sure he could ever shake the fear of the realisation that it wasn’t. It hadn’t been. He’d come within a hair’s breadth of not sitting next to Sero’s hospital bed as the older boy complained about getting his suit cut off.
He could be sitting in the dorms right now, grieving with everyone else. But he wasn’t.
Sero looked extra unimpressed as he sat up, Iida leapt from his seat, his arm coming up behind Sero’s shoulders to stabilize him.
The nurse quickly tied the hospital gown in place and Sero was eased back onto the now elevated mattress so he could sit up and pout at Iida with minimal effort.
Sero spoke when the nurse left the room, pulling the curtain shut behind her. “It’s ugly.”
Iida rolled his eyes. “It’s practical.”
“Still ugly,” Sero grumbled. “I’m tired.
“Take a nap, I’ll be here the entire time. Just don’t mess with the wires.”
Sero rolled over onto his side and pulled his knees up to his chest. “Goodnight, Tenya.”
“It’s like 3pm.”
“Goodnight, Tenya,” Sero said again, his voice firmer.
Iida couldn’t help but sigh as he stood up again to press a kiss to the top of Sero’s head in his semi-dry hair. “Goodnight, Hanta.”
He lingered for a moment, drinking in the sight of his boyfriend. The whiteness of the hospital gown, the bed sheets and blankets all served to amplify how pale Sero looked. He still had that purple tint to his extremities. There were at least a billion wires poking out from the top of the hospital gown, all of them connected to some monitor or another. The oxygen mask was still firmly fixed to his face, a little grey rectangular clip on the index finger of his right hand to document the necessity for the mask.
He knew Sero had to be feeling pretty awful right now, but his boyfriend continued to joke and try to make Iida smile, it made his heart squeeze in his chest as Iida reached for the bundle of blankets that had slipped to Sero’s feet. He tucked them up to his boyfriend’s shoulders and pressed another kiss to his hair before returning to his seat.
-
After a trip to radiology for a chest x-ray that Iida had to sit in the waiting area for the duration of, Iida followed Sero up to a room in the pediatric ward.
It was weird, following the orderlies and his boyfriend’s hospital bed through the corridors and a bunch of kids. Some of them were crying and screaming, others running around with friends and giggling. He felt very out of place as an almost-adult still dressed head-to-toe in his hero gear.
As Sero was settled into the room, his oxygen mask was switched to a nasal cannula that showed off the fact that the colour had come back to his face. He still had his pile of blankets as well as an additional IV that the nurse said was warm saline to bring up his body temperature a little faster.
The wires were still there, as was the pulse oximeter clipped to his finger, and a little paper cup of tea in Sero’s hands that he slowly sipped.
Aizawa joined them after a little while, as Sero’s eyelids were beginning to droop again. “What’s the verdict?”
“They killed my suit,” Sero grumbled, pouting like a child.
Aizawa quirked a questioning eyebrow.
“They had to cut it off of him when he arrived,” Iida supplied helpfully.
“I’ll contact the support class when we get back to UA,” Aizawa said simply, ignoring Sero’s pout. He lifted up a hand with two cloth shopping bags dangling from his grip. “I got your classmates to get you both a change of clothes. I figured you didn’t want to be Ingenium right now, and Sero is going to need something to wear when he gets discharged.”
“When is that going to be?” Sero asked, bringing his paper cup to his lips again.
Aizawa levelled him with a stern gaze. “You almost died, Sero.” His expression and voice softened considerably. “I’m glad to see you’re doing better.”
“So when do I get to go home?”
“The doctor said that once his temperature and Oxygen levels are back within a normal range, they’ll keep him for a few extra hours for observation. Said it’s unlikely that they’ll keep him overnight unless a complication arises,” Iida explained.
Aizawa pointed an accusing finger in Sero’s direction. “Don’t even think about wracking up pneumonia or, god forbid, a cardiac arrest. You’ve already traumatised poor Iida enough for one day.”
Sero tapped the finger with his pulse oximeter clipped to it on his chin. “I could do another cardiac arrest, for the drama of it all.”
Iida made a choked noise. “Please don’t.”
Sero and Aizawa both turned to him, Sero’s eyes wide and Aizawa’s eyebrows pulled together - in concern.
“Do you need a hug, Iida?” Aizawa asked in his usual monotone, regarding his student with an unreadable expression.
“What?”
Aizawa spread his arms in an invitation. “Free dad hug, one-time offer.”
“No-” Iida started, not even able to finish his sentence through his surprise. Aizawa was offering to hug him. “No thank you, sensei.”
“Your loss,” Aizawa said with a shrug, dropping his arms back to his sides.
Sero perked up. “I want a dad hug. Can I have a dad hug?”
“No. You give me heart palpitations, you don’t get a dad hug.”
“Aww, just one?” Sero asked, reaching a hand out towards Aizawa. It was clear that Sero was milking this opportunity for all it was worth, he knew he’d never be able to be so casual with Aizawa under any other circumstance without getting scolded.
“Maybe if you still want one when you’re discharged. Focus on recovering for now.”
“On it. You’ve neer seen someone more recovered from drowning than me.”
Aizawa set one of the bags of clothes at the foot of the bed, holding out the other one for Iida to take.
“The Ingenium suit can’t be all that comfortable right now.”
Aizawa’s gaze softened when Iida held the bag of clothes to his chest but didn’t move, his eyes still glued to Sero. “I’ll keep an eye on him. Get changed.”
Iida wanted to object but Aizawa wasn’t wrong. His suit was big and clunky and awkward. It was making his back hurt from the simple task of trying to sit in a chair.
He nodded and quickly shuffled out of the room and to the bathroom at the end of the corridor.
He changed in record speed, not wanting to be away from Sero for too long. The trembling he had finally managed to suppress came back with a vengeance when he left Sero’s company.
Hurrying back, Iida slipped back into the room, dressed in a much more comfortable hoodie and sweatpants.
Aizawa looked up at Iida from his place in the lone seat next to Sero’s bed as the door fell shut behind Iida. “Iida, can I speak with you outside for a moment? It won’t take long.”
“Sure.” Iida said, meeting eyes with Sero who looked equally as confused.
Aizawa continued walking up the corridor until they approached a vending machine. He punched in a few numbers and inserted his money, in a matter of seconds there was a chocolate bar being pressed into Iida’s hand.
“Eat it. You look like you’re about to collapse.” Aizawa��s voice was missing its usual commanding edge but Iida obeyed nonetheless.
“Present Mic is staying with 1-A in the dorms. Last I heard they’re watching movies and ordering food.”
Iida hummed thoughtfully as he continued to eat the chocolate bar under Aizawa’s watchful gaze. “That’s good.”
“They’re all worried, but glad that you’re here with him.”
Iida didn’t have much more to offer than another hum.
He was folding up the empty wrapper with trembling fingers when Aizawa spoke again. “If they do end up deciding to keep him here for the night, I’ll see what I can do about you staying with him.”
Iida looked up at that. “What? Why?”
“Your hands have gotten considerably more shaky the longer we’ve been out here. Staying with your boyfriend will help you keep calm, and I don’t think either of you would benefit from being alone right now.”
Curse how observant Aizawa was. They always forgot, but he noticed the smallest things. “He’s not my boyfriend-”
“Iida,” Aizawa cut him off, “I have known you since you were a baby. You’re going to have to be a better liar than that to convince me.”
“How long have you known?”
“I’ve had my suspicions for a few months, you’re not exactly subtle. But Hizashi and I have been in and out of hospitals enough, I know that look. And Sero calling you by your given name when he was half-conscious while insisting that he hold your hand and be carried by you did not help your case,” Aizawa supplied.
“Ah, that makes sense.”
They stood there in silence for a little longer, before Aizawa of all people broke it.
“Iida.” The softness in his voice was back. This had been a very out of character night for the both of them.
“Yes, sensei?”
“How are you holding up?”
“I’m fine-” Iida started, looking up to meet Aizawa’s gaze. Which was full of concern as he regarded his student. Iida cut himself off with the strangled sob that clawed its way out of his throat.
And he fell apart. One crack in his resolve and it all came pouring out. He didn’t have the energy to try and stop the sobs and the tears in favour of saving face in front of his teacher.
Aizawa didn’t speak, he just pulled Iida into a hug. There was barely two inches of height between them but Iida had never felt so small.
He continued to cry, loud broken sobs into Aizawa’s shirt, his tears undoubtedly leaving a large wet patch in the fabric. He was just so overwhelmed, more than he had thought, and it all came spilling out of him at once.
Aizawa, to his credit, gave pretty good hugs. He held Iida steady, rubbing circles into his back and mumbling words of comfort. “It’s okay, let it out. You’re gonna be okay.”
It took a while for Iida to finally get his sobbing under control. He had no idea how long he'd been crying in Aizawa's arms but it was definitely too long.
Sero was probably wondering where they were.
Iida cleared his throat. "Sorry sensei, I-"
"Don't mention it," Aizawa cut in quickly. "You've had one hell of a day and you needed comfort. It's nothing to be ashamed about. Personally, I've probably spent more hours crying into Kayama's shoulder than I've spent sleeping in the past month."
"Midnight-sensei?"
Aizawa nodded. "She gives the best hugs."
“That makes sense,” Iida mumbled, wiping at his eyes with the edge of his sleeve.
“Are you feeling better?” Aizawa asked, punching a few more numbers into the vending machine. Iida was hit with the shocking realisation that he’d just had a breakdown in the middle of this corridor, in front of a vending machine. If anyone had wanted a snack all they would have seen was Iida sobbing in his teacher’s arms for god knows how long.
Iida laughed a little breathlessly, there was no humour in the gesture. “Aside from crying out half the fluid in my body, yeah. Thank you, sensei.”
Aizawa bent down to retrieve something from the vending machine, only to hand a water bottle to Iida.
“Let’s go check on trouble, what do you think?”
Iida nodded, smiling softly as Aizawa began walking back to Sero’s room.
-
Sero had been discharged at midnight. A full nine hours after his admission. It’d been a long night.
By 5pm, Sero had been taken off of his supplemental oxygen, and his levels stayed consistent in its absence.
The remaining seven hours passed without incident.
Most of them were spent with Sero insisting that Iida sit in the bed with him as he messed around on the younger boy’s phone. Iida had supervised Sero’s texting the class group chat and the older boy went as far as to send a selfie of himself and Iida to comfort their concerned classmates.
“Mina says you look worse than I do,” Sero chirped.
Iida just nodded, leaning his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Tell her I said thank you.”
Sero showed him a few pictures that had been sent in the group chat. One of Present Mic drinking a mug of something in the dorm kitchen with his hair out of it’s gelled spike and in a complicated arrangement of braids and Ashido standing next to him, looking incredibly proud of herself.
A picture of Bakugou sitting on the couch, his head on Kirishima’s chest, he appeared to be asleep, bundled up in a hoodie that was definitely not his if the print on the back was anything to go buy. Iida was fairly confident that Kirishima was the only student in their class who owned limited edition Crimson Riot merchandise.
Another picture, this time of the floor where Uraraka appeared to be demolishing Jirou and Todoroki in uno.
The final picture Sero showed him was a selfie sent by Kaminari, the electric boy looking very happy as he threw up a peace sign, Shinsou was sitting next to him and held up a less enthusiastic peace sign but still gave them a smile.
Soaking in the physical affirmation that Sero was okay as the older boy pressed into his side was enough to soothe Iida’s anxiety. He sat back as Sero messed around on his phone, chatting with their classmates until he got a little too overwhelmed for his tired mind to keep up with.
Sero had begged to watch a movie not long after he’d bid farewell to the class chat, only to fall asleep on Iida’s shoulder before they were even halfway through it. Iida, however, was not far behind him.
The nurses had been very stealthy with their regular vital checks, successfully not rousing either of the boys as Aizawa continued to do all the necessary paperwork and phone calls in silence.
The two of them were woken a little past midnight by Sero’s doctor carrying out a final check of the boy’s condition before happily handing Aizawa the discharge papers.
Aizawa and Iida waited in the corridor for a nurse to help Sero get changed. When the eldest boy joined them, he was wearing an outfit not dissimilar to Iida’s. In fact, he was wearing one of Iida’s hoodies that hung loose on his lanky frame.
Iida had half a mind to just carry Sero up to his room when he fell asleep in the passenger seat of Aizawa’s car, a blanket tucked under his chin.
Gently shaking his shoulder, Sero stirred with an unintelligent string of mumbling. “Tenya?”
“I know you wanna sleep, but we’re at the dorms now, so you gotta wake up enough to get to bed.”
“Carry me,” Sero grumbled, his hands fisting in the fabric of Iida’s hoodie.
Iida couldn’t help but to laugh a little at his partner’s antics. Sero was so clingy when he was tired. “I would, sweetheart, but everyone’s been waiting for us to get home and I’m afraid they might collapse if they see me carrying you inside.”
“That’s so rude of them.”
“Okay, you tell them that.”
“I will,” Sero said firmly as he stumbled, half-asleep, out of Aizawa’s car, his hands still latched onto his boyfriend, using Iida to steady himself.
Aizawa silently watched the scene unfold, never saying anything as he followed behind the pair. Eighteen sets of eyes landed on them the second they stepped over the threshold.
“Sero!” a cacophony of voices called out.
“Don’t crowd him, he’s exhausted,” Aizawa commanded over the buzzing activity around him. “Where’s Mic?”
Iida watched Bakugou shrug and point towards the common room couches with the jerk of his thumb. “He fell asleep.”
Aizawa quickly departed from Iida and Sero’s side, headed over to rouse his husband. Iida couldn’t fathom how they’d actually managed to keep their relationship a secret from the students for this long. They were nothing close to subtle.
Iida stepped back a little, his hand still in Sero’s as the class descended upon them. Kirshima, Kaminari and Ashido all took turns giving their friend a hug. There were lots of questions thrown around, and a lot more hugs for Sero to receive, even one for Iida from Yaoyorozu who looked as worn out as he felt.
Tears were shed, everyone basking in the relief that their classmate was back, safe and sound.
“You look wiped,” Kirishima said as he turned to Iida who just offered him a half-hearted smile.
“It’s been a long day. I think we’re just gonna head up to bed before Sero falls asleep standing up.”
Kirishima gave him a firm pat on the back. “Good luck with that, Bakubro is intent on feeding you both. It’s the closest he’ll ever get to admitting that he cares, do not take it lightly.”
Iida nodded before turning back to Sero who was almost swaying on his feet. “Let’s go sit down, Bakugou made food.”
Sero hummed, not even bothering to open his eyes as Iida wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “He’s a good cook.”
Sitting on one of the common room couches, under the watchful eyes of everyone who wasn’t convinced that Sero was okay just yet, Sero and Iida shared a bowl of tofu stir fry.
Sero didn’t have the stomach for much, and insisted that Iida feed him, too tired to operate chopsticks on his own. He’d fallen asleep curled up into Iida’s side before the bowl was even emptied.
Iida stayed on the couch with Sero for a little while, talking with his remaining company in a low voice until he started to feel himself drifting off. It was time they made their way up to bed.
There was truly no other option but to carry Sero upstairs at this point, it was nearing 2am and there was no hope to rouse his partner for long enough to get all the way up to either of their dorms.
Bakugou, Ashido, Kirshima and Kaminari had been the only ones to stay up with them until that point. Shinsou was also there but he had spent the better part of the last hour asleep with his head in Kaminari’s lap while the latter ran his hand through the unruly purple hair, so he didn’t really count.
Actually, Bakugou seemed to be the only one still fully awake, despite his tendency to go to bed much earlier than everyone else. He’d never admit to it, but he had been worried, Iida didn’t have to know Bakugou well to know that much.
“Thank you,” Iida said, careful not to wake Sero up as he spoke.
Bakugou just looked at him and huffed. “I didn’t do it for you, nerd.”
“I’m grateful nonetheless, do you want a hand getting everyone up to their rooms?”
“They can take themselves, just take him upstairs.”
Iida pretended not to notice the lack of his usual nicknames as he turned back to Sero, shaking his shoulder lightly.
“No,” Sero mumbled, turning to bury his face further into Iida’s shoulder. “Don’t wanna.”
“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”
Sero turned his head upwards to give Iida a pointed look through his messy and now dry hair. “You’re gonna make me get up.”
“Correct.”
“No.”
Iida leaned down until his mouth was level with Sero’s ear. “If we go upstairs we can cuddle,” he whispered in a low voice.
Sero hummed. “Really? Lead the way, Class Prez.”
It was not a complicated process to scoop Sero up and into his arms, one arm under his back, the other curled behind his knees. Sero’s weight was a comfort to have resting against Iida’s chest as he walked them to the elevator.
It was times like this that he was glad his boyfriend weighed the same as a bunch of grapes. On a good day, Iida could easily lift the heavier members of their class, but at that moment he was beyond exhausted and he wasn’t sure if he could even carry Sero much further than up to his dorm.
The elevator ride up to the fifth floor passed by quickly, and Iida easily made his way to Sero’s dorm.
If Iida had to wager a guess who had put the extra blankets on the bed and arranged what looked like a care basket on the little table in the middle of the room, he would put all of his money on Ashido. She notoriously would pick on and tease the other members of the Bakusquad but she had proven herself to be incredibly thoughtful and considerate on multiple occasions.
He would have to remember to thank her in the morning.
For now, his only goal was getting his boyfriend into bed. After everything, Iida felt like he could sleep for a week, figuring that Sero was not going to object to that plan.
Setting Sero down on the bed, Iida moved to pull the blankets on top of his partner. As he tucked the edge of the blankets under his boyfriend’s chin, he moved to smooth the furrow in Sero’s brows with his thumb.
Sero blinked up at Iida then. His black eyes found blue ones in the low lighting. “Are you staying?”
“Sure,” Iida said. He had been planning to sleep in the hammock, giving Sero space but also being close enough to verify that he was safe.
“Not in the hammock,” Sero said sternly, narrowing his eyes at Iida. “You said we could cuddle.”
Iida sighed, there was no use trying to argue, he was putty in Sero’s hands. “Little spoon or big spoon?”
“Little spoon.”
Sero pulled the blankets back as he shuffled closer to the edge of the bed, making room for Iida to slot himself into place behind him. It wasn’t the smoothest job of sharing the bed that they’ve ever done but Iida eventually settled in, sliding his arms around Sero and holding him close to his chest.
Iida buried his face in the crook of Sero’s neck, breathing in the scent of his boyfriend. “I’m really glad you’re okay,” he mumbled into his shoulder.
He felt Sero’s soft laugh against his chest. “Me too. I can’t have some dude hitting you up with a ‘he would want you to move on’, you’re mine forever.”
“Forever,” Iida said, tightening his hold around Sero ever so slightly.
Sero hummed, the sound was low in his throat and Iida could feel the vibration of it against his skin. “Forever.”
-
Iida was lounging on Sero’s bed, not quite bothering to get up just yet. His eyes trailed Sero’s movements as the older boy circled his room. He had a check in with Recovery Girl in an hour so he was intent on getting changed himself. After the past few days, the soreness and exhaustion were starting to ease and he was a lot more mobile.
And that’s how Iida ended up face-to-face with a shirtless Sero who was still trying to figure out what shirt he wanted to wear as Iida’s eyes zeroed in on the dark purple bruising covering the front of his boyfriend’s chest.
It looked painful but Sero paid it no mind.
“Hanta?” Iida called out, sitting up with a much more tense posture than he had had moments ago.
“Hmm?”
“Are those bruises?”
Sero looked at Iida for a moment, confused, before looking down at his chest and giving his boyfriend a chuckle and a shrug. “Oh, those, yeah. I assume they’re from you, y’know, restarting my heart.” He paused, running a hand through his messy black hair. “Thanks for that by the way.”
“No problem…” Iida trailed off, starting at the mottled discolouration on Sero’s chest. He wondered if it had really hit Sero yet, truly how close the older boy had come to losing his life only two days ago.
The two of them had been excused from classes for at least a few days unless Sero was feeling up to going to class before then. Sero’s absence for the purpose of rest and recuperation, Iida’s to keep an eye on his boyfriend and look out for any symptoms of secondary drowning or pneumonia. He helped Sero to remember to take his antibiotics as well as just helping him do tasks that were a little too strenuous.
Aizawa had given them a stern look and told them to call him if they needed to or if they were worried about something. He’d also told the two of them that they had appointments with Hound Dog scheduled for them on the following Monday.
The rest of the class had informed the two of them that all training exercises had been suspended for the rest of the week until any changes to improve student safety could be made. Iida did not envy the meetings that Aizawa was undoubtedly going to be sitting through in the week to come.
“You know, you could always blame those on Aizawa-sensei,” Iida said, hoping to lighten the dark look that had crossed Sero’s face.
Sero blanched. “Aizawa-sensei saw me without a shirt on.”
Iida couldn’t help but to raise his eyebrows at the shift in mood. “I think that was the least of his concerns.”
“I can’t show my face ever again,” Sero groaned, flopping face first onto the bed. Only to let out another groan and roll onto his back, rubbing a free hand on his chest that had undoubtedly protested the motion.
“You are being dramatic.”
Sero rounded on Iida, giving him a serious look. “Do you think he noticed that my nipples are uneven?”
Iida just sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses up. “Your nipples are not uneven, Hanta.”
Sero nodded sagely. “Yaomomo definitely noticed.”
Iida threw a pillow at his boyfriend.
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vidavalor · 3 years ago
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"You're my favorite" is a dialogue callback & a major hint as to what's up with Mobius
Let's talk about Mobius, Ravonna, the drink rings, the pen, the trophies, and "you're my favorite" because I don't think the clues are leading towards Mobius being a villain or a clone or a Loki... but they are leading towards him being a lot more *like* Loki than maybe we realized at the start... meta/analysis under the cut
Mobius is not a villain. The set of scenes meant to really underline this fact are when we see him sneak off to the library with Ravonna's Tempad to watch the Hunter C-20 video and see for himself that his suspicions that Loki was right about the agents being variants is true. If he were a villain, he would have already known this. That said... there are some clues that there *is* something that Mobius already knew and let's look at what those clues are and just what Mobius may be up to.
Mobius is something that Ravonna and the TVA need-- he's smart, inquisitive and a good leader. Their problem with that is he is smart, inquisitive and a good leader. That makes him a bit dangerous should he get too close to the truth. Other agents love him and might be more likely to follow him if he told them they were being lied to so that can't ever happen. On the other hand, it's far easier to "fix" someone that's broken by TVA definition than to just outright destroy it because good analysts don't grow on trees. That other agent who collected the other half of the trophies in Ravonna's office? The one who left drink rings on her table that overlap (in a Mobius loop-like pattern) with Mobius' own? That was the dude whose name is literally his name *twice over*-- Mobius himself. That is why there is no other analyst for Mobius to have ever bumped into in the hallway or been introduced to. Now, think about how Mobius must have thought about this other analyst. Like, a *lot*...
Mobius likes his puzzle and his ears are sharp, too. He brings up the other analyst to Ravonna in conversation, keeping it light, to watch what she says about this person. The more vague she is, the more he realizes that what he's beginning to suspect is likely true. He jokes with her to cover up that he's beginning to understand what's happened and what does he say? He jokes that he hopes that he's her *favorite*, a line of dialogue that he uses when hugging Loki and looking at another version of Loki in Sylvie. What does this mean? It means that while Mobius didn't know that all the agents are variants who were kidnapped from their timelines until Loki told him-- and we know that's the case because we saw him steal Ravonna's Temppad to watch the proof of it that he needed to see for it to be true, even if it was clear that he believed Loki when he was told of it-- Mobius *did* know something already at the start of the show: he knew that he had been reset.
He knew he was not the first version of Mobius that had existed.
That first version was the man he couldn't remember, who had gone on other TVA missions and collected half the stuff in Ravonna's office and had whole other conversations with her where he left other drink rings and that person was just gone now to him. This? Is one of the reasons why he's so empathetic towards Loki and bends over backwards so much to give Loki another chance at being the person he wants to be-- because Mobius himself has been doing that too, in secret. He probably blames Ravonna more than the TVA as a whole at that point-- he turns on the TVA more after he discovers that the agents are all variants-- but it's also why he's willing to take more risks and do things like bring Loki in to help because he identifies with him. Mobius has figured out that he was Ravonna's other agent but he knows that if he ever said that aloud or led Ravonna to think that he had realized it, she would reset him again or prune him and Mobius doesn't want to die. Ravonna tests him frequently with that pen, in particular-- it's either tied to who Mobius was in his timeline or it's something he brought back from before he was reset. She's looking for any signs that Mobius has remembered any of the resetting or any of his life from before. Mobius pretends that he doesn't but he does remember who he was before he was reset into who he is now-- at least enough to know that he was reset in the first place.
Another clue to this? When he rescues Loki from the judge in the courtroom, he's saving him from undergoing the same fate he previously did. There are only two options that we saw-- don't take a ticket (and so prove that you are not pliable and of no use to the TVA) and you get pruned to The Void. Take a ticket (and so prove that you have potential to follow orders) and the judge sentences you and then you get "reset"-- have your memories wiped & be turned into a TVA agent. That was about to happen to Loki when Mobius ran in but look at what Mobius said to him about it. Loki asked if he was taking him somewhere to kill him and Mobius said no, that that's where Loki just was. But think about that for a second-- it was clear that Loki had passed enough of the ticket test that he wasn't going to get pruned to The Void.
If Mobius at that point thought, like most do, that pruning = death, then Mobius would know that Loki had already saved himself from that by taking the ticket. So what is the "death" that Loki would have faced instead, if Mobius hadn't saved him? Mobius knows now what it is because he knows it happened to him before. He saved Loki from having his memory wiped and this version of himself from being killed by the TVA. Just as he's giving Loki another chance to embrace the moment and be whoever he wants to be, Mobius is also trying to do the same thing for himself. Whoever he was is gone now, in some ways, and Mobius can't even remember the missions he went on before, the trophies he brought back to the woman who killed who he was before and made him yet another version of himself. He struggles with what it is to be *him*-- an individual in the midst of similar copies-- and to have an identity of his own... just like Loki does.
Then, Loki uncovers the truth about the TVA from Sylvie and tells Mobius that all the analysts are variants-- that they were people kidnapped from their timelines to serve in the TVA-- and while Mobius does seek out the proof (and I think he also just is trying to figure out what happened to poor C-20, now realizing that she knew before the rest of them did), he believes Loki enough to seek out that proof. He instantly doesn't trust Ravonna. For a man who has spent his whole life (as far as he knows) in service to the TVA and its mission, it's a huge leap, even if he suspects Loki to be correct. The reason why he believed him so readily is because he already had reason to distrust Ravonna and the TVA brass because he already had figured out that he had been reset.
It's also possible that B-15 was also reset alongside Mobius, namely because she works with him all the time and might begin to notice that he wasn't remembering their previous missions. If there is anybody in the TVA that Mobius might have told about his suspicions that he was reset, it might be her and she could have been helping him. (For instance, who is it that tells Loki that he *has to take a ticket* in no uncertain terms? Why does B-15 care if he does or doesn't? What was it to her if they pruned Loki at that point? He was just another variant. Unless Mobius, whom she trusts and is her friend, told her to do everything she could to keep Loki alive in there long enough for him to get there.) So, there's a slight possibility that B-15 knows she and Mobius were reset but I also think he probably didn't tell anybody and if B-15 was helping Loki in the courtroom, it was just because Mobius asked her to.
Which means that Mobius has been wanting to fuck with the TVA a bit-- or at least annoy Ravonna-- for awhile, hence his willingness to go traipse around with Loki. His whole of the word "favorite" though is more loaded than it seems. When he says it with Ravonna, it's a dry joke only he really gets. He's flirty, he's joking with her that he hopes that she likes him more than this other analyst guy who is bringing back these other trophies for her. He makes it sound like a romantic rivalry between him and her other time-hopping Indiana Jones. Mobius at this point *knows that other analyst is himself* when he's saying this but he can't let her know that he knows, so he pretends it's a whole other person, and not a previous sense of himself that she has tried to erase and reset into a version of himself that he wants. Worse, Ravonna *never answers him*-- she never tells Mobius that he is her favorite. She talks about their friendship being uncommon and keeps trying to gaslight Mobius into believing that they have a thing between them that is exclusive to them when Mobius knows damn right well that she had him mind-murdered and he can't trust her. So, even this reset version of Mobius gets the run-around from cold fish Ravonna.
So, when Mobius is then in a moment where he's saying goodbye to the god he loves who is on a paralleling journey to his own, in terms of trying to be the best version of himself he can be with the single chance he has left, he says "you're my favorite" in such a way that while he is saying it, in a whisper, to the Loki in his arms, he's looking at Sylvie when he says it and that's intentional. He respects Sylvie, whose end goal isn't to do harm so much as to free the imprisoned and whose determination to that end is freeing Mobius more than he had previously thought possible, and he loves Loki-- and he's determined to not have them feel what he feels with Ravonna. He wants them to know they are both good as they are, that they can be their own selves and don't need to be more than just the best versions of themselves that they can be. Ravonna makes multiple copies of Mobius and tries to strip him of his sense of self and he's been fighting back quietly, recognizing the same type of fight in all of the Lokis that he meets, taking in their various issues with stride because he just admires all of it and feels a kinship to it. Telling Loki and Sylvie "you're my favorite" is a way of giving them what he hasn't had for himself, which is a sense that he's fine the way he is and he's loved and enough and who he is as a person-- the same traits that make him a good agent-- are not inherently subversive in a bad way or wrong... and if you read that last sentence and realized that Loki is then the perfect person to love Mobius, I agree. :)
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ryoryeonggu · 3 years ago
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I think the new characters of Elite could have done better and had more potential to be brought on the table, especially the Blanco family.
Ari: Instead of being pushed and pulled by two guys like a bloody trophy, I would love to see more interaction and connection between her and her family members. She as a role of a daddy girl, the perfect girl always making their father proud, the sister always taking care of her brother and sister and likely to be the job of her life. How everyone seemed to put so much high hopes on her, especially her father, expected her to be there all the time and good at everything, and how much stressful and frustrating must be for her. And I want her to find someone who really see her and love her for who she truly is, not just a flawless imagine that all of the people expect her to be (and I believe that’s why she caught up in the feeling for Samuel, except from his d*ck lol and his admirable devotion towards his friends, because he was there and comforted her when her guard had been weakest and she opened up about what she felt about her mother’s death)
Patrick: Although I was pleased with all the hot scenes (damn, this boy is the most nasty and sexiest gremlin ever), there’s more of his story that the show could have explored more than just fucking and sex. Like more of his feelings and thoughts during all the time he had been paralyzing on the bed for 2 years and how much efforts (along with all the depression) he put on to get back on his feet and be able to walk again. How he felt at the moment of the accident, like he experienced all the blood lost, the unbearable pain and thought he was going to die. How he felt when his mother was dying besides him and he wasn’t able to do anything to save her. How traumatized it for him with the loss of his mother and that disburbing event. And despite everything, that all of those things happened to him was partly Mencia’s fault, so it’s understandable that he hated her for that, but instead he cared deeply for his little sister and became the closest one and the only one that Mencia could trust in their family. I like the way he’s so supportive of her with almost everything, their little secret phone calls behind their father and sister’s back, the way Patrick was worried sick and absolutely in the edge of breaking down when his sister’s missing but when she came home, he just smiled brightly instead of yelling at her because he’s just glad that she’s safe (when he had every right to be mad at her since it almost killed him the last time she disappeared). Seriously they looks like twins more than Patrick and Ari has ever been and their “partners in crime” dynamic was so pure and could be developed more.
On the other hand, I’d love to see why he’s mostly so lonely and easily be touched by just a little affection from strangers. Why’s he so desperate to find love and somebody who has meaningful connection? Even though he seemed to not so be interested in spending time with Phillipe - who’s supposed to be his friend - only it’s necessary for his benefits. For a reason, no one in the Blanco seemed to like Phillipe and even despise him to some extend and I wonder if there’s any other reasons apart from his abuse records.
Mencia: I adored Rebeka & Mencia with all my heart, they’re so cute, but they could have added more depth to their relationship by letting Mencia opened herself more about her struggles in her family. I just feel that the reason why she was so eager to push them away only because she felt guilty about what she did to them. It clearly wounded her when Ari mentioned about how much she hurt her family, because she might feel responsible for all the loss, all the pain and all the broken things that had been caused (including her mother’s death). So she lied, she was self-destructive, she did all those annoying things and tried to walk away so her family finally was tired of her and gave up on her forever. Because she didn’t think she deserved love and care from them, that she had ruined them enough. The one she feel sorry the most probably was Patrick since he was the one who had been wasting 2 years of his life on his bed and scarred for life after on his way of searching for her, so she mostly turned soft just for him while being harsh and pushy to everyone else.
Phillipe: He confused the hell out of me because I don’t know what to think of him. It wasn’t comprehensive with the way they portrayed him, like he’s supposed to be an abuser (or r*pist, I’m not sure), but there’s barely an accurate hint because most of the time, he was being either sweet or a lost kicked puppy as the girl he loved rejected him and his “friends” used him to get what they wanted then immediately tossing him aside. Apart from the hidden camera and sexual assault scene, he constantly respected Cayetana and treated her like a queen, he only had eyes for her and didn’t care at all about her being a janitor or what she had done in the past, their love story looked like a dream, then the very next second they forced the whole shallow shit down our throat. Even I understand that abusers are usually charming and wasn’t be easy to be identified, but there are should have been clearer signs. I’m supposed to hate him? I’m supposed to feel bad for him? So is there any truth as he said there’s a girl false accused him of sexually assaulting her for money? What’s the backstory of him abusing girls which his mother had to cover for? I really want to know more about the side of him before having any proper opinion about his character.
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Come As You Are
Summary: Dean takes Y/n dress shopping for a hunt, both of them blissfully unaware of where it will lead. 
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus Size Reader
Word Count: 3.9K+
Warnings: Language, self-esteem and body image struggles, public intercourse, unprotected intercourse (wrap it before you tap it)
Author’s Note: This was written for an anonymous request, 
“Hey babe I don’t know if your taking requests but I had a groovy idea dean x shy plus reader where they have to get the reader nice sexy clothes but she feels really uncomfortable in them and refuses to leave the dressing room and dean confess how he feels and they have sex in the dressing room ? Fluff and smut” 
I truly enjoyed writing it so I hope it lives up to your expectations anon. Remember, feedback is like crack to writers, and we always love to hear what you thought xoxo Alex
Consider checking out a book from Alexandra’s Library!
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A frown etched itself on her face as she ran her hand over the fabrics hanging from the racks. All of it felt foreign underneath her fingertips. Satin, chiffon, and everything else that was far more expensive than she was used to. Y/n’s wardrobe mostly consisted of denim and polyester blends that tended to fray after two washes. It was all that a hunter could afford, after all. 
“How in the hell are we gonna afford any of this crap?” She whispered to Dean, who was eyeing the rack behind her, the gowns in front of him all a deep shade of red. 
“Charlie’s miracle card, remember? There is no limit,” Dean raised his brow at her, a grin etched across his perfect face. 
“Fine,” she groaned. “I still don’t see why I even need to go dress shopping, I’m sure I could find something in my closet.” 
“I’ve seen your closet, and none of it is right for this case. You’ve got to distract the coroner for the night and you can’t do that in baggy jeans and flannel.” Dean huffed as he picked a dress off the rack. Y/n’s eyes went wide as she took it in, the hem was short for anyone’s standards, then add in the plunging neckline and this dress left nothing to the imagination. 
“That is so not happening,” Y/n pointed at the offensive garment, her stomach fluttering at the simple idea of even trying to slip into it. Every spot on her body that she hated would be on full display in that thing. Her thick thighs, the roll that sat on her bra just under her arms, and don’t get her started on her abdomen. 
“Come on, just try it. You never know ‘till you try it on.” 
“Ugh,” Y/n snatched the dress from his hand before stalking off to look at more dresses. There were a couple more options that she grabbed to try on that were closer to her comfortability level. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t be caught dead in any of the items in her arms. But Dean had this way about him, always able to convince her to do anything without question. Maybe it was the way his skin crinkled around his eyes or the brightness that always seemed to live behind those deliciously green eyes? Who was she kidding, it was all of that and then some. The huntress had fallen hard for him from that first meeting. Sometimes she wondered why she chose to torture herself. 
Dean Winchester was the cream of the crop when it came to hunters, as was his baby brother, Sam. The whole world knew who they were, including heaven and hell, so how could she be expected to resist him when he smiled at her the way he does. Or even when he made her coffee in the mornings just how she liked it and picked up chocolate and pain killers for her when he knew it was that time of the month. He was exceedingly attentive to her, something that she was sure he only directed at Sam. It was just another thing that surprised her about the legend of a man. 
Yeah, like an idiot she fell for the eldest Winchester. There was no stopping it even though she was certain that her feelings would never be reciprocated. Y/n wasn’t like the other woman that Dean went for when he was on the prowl at bars. It’s not that she was ugly, it was that she was plain at best. People didn’t turn their heads when she walked in the room, men’s gazes didn’t linger on her from across the bar, no, Y/n was merely average. That’s how she knew that Dean would never see her as more than a friend because he had never looked at her in any form of want. 
“Are you ready to try those on?” A sales woman’s voice broke her out of her unrelenting train of thought. Dean answered for her before she could process the woman’s words. 
“Yes, please.” He smiled brightly and Y/n watched as the woman’s face flushed under his gaze. Y/n almost felt bad for the woman who was now just another victim to his charm. The saleswoman at least would be able to relish in his attention, wondering about what could have been had Y/n not been there with him. Y/n on the other hand already knew her fate. But mostly, if she was being honest, she was jealous. 
Dean put his hands on her shoulders and guided her along behind the boutique worker who took them into the back of the store where the dressing rooms were located. The area was mostly quiet, just the music from the speakers could be heard in the space. Three large mirrors sat in front of a stage on the far wall, the rooms spaning out on either side of it. In the center of the room were three plush chairs for those waiting for others to sit in. 
The worker unlocked a door for her as Dean plopped down in one of the chairs. Y/n slipped behind the door, letting out a deep breath as it closed behind her. If there was one thing she hated it was trying on clothes. Nothing ever seemed to fit her right or look anything like what it did on the hanger. It made the task a constant battle with her self-consciousness. 
Y/n had always carried extra weight on her body. It wasn’t that she didn’t live an active lifestyle, she was a hunter, after all, it was the diet that hunters were accustomed to. It was fast food and dives in every small town in America. Not many mom and pop places tended to offer an egg white omelet, and it wasn’t her inclination to eat them either. So, she had always been bigger than most, and if she was being honest she had grown used to that. Maybe she used it as a shield to protect herself. Making connections with people as a hunter only tended to end in heartbreak, so this was easier. 
The hunter hid the scary red thing Dean had selected behind all the rest of her haul, hoping she would find something before she ever even got to the thing. Y/n stripped from her flannel and jeans tossing them on the bench in the corner. She also added her bra to the pile, knowing all of these garments necessitated that she did not wear one. That left her in her favorite pair of panties. They weren’t anything special, but they made her butt looked its best.
The first dress in the line up was a straight black dress that hit just above her knee. The neckline wasn’t anything too crazy but the sleeves rolled off the shoulders a strip of fabric wrapping around her bust. Y/n was able to slip it on and tug up the zipper on the side. With a slide of her hands against the fabric, she frowned at her reflection. Not that it would flatter any figure, in her opinion. 
“What’s taking so long in there?” Dean called out from his spot in front of the mirrors.
“I’m not coming out in this thing,” she called back as she began to take the dress back off. 
“Oh, come on sweetheart,” 
“Nope, next,” Y/n heard him huff even through the door and she imagined he rolled his eyes as well. 
The next dress was a deep blue color. It had a wrap and pencil skirt, with an asymmetrical shape between the hem and the neckline. She supposed it was pretty but it also kind of looked like she had wrapped herself in a towel. Mostly, she felt like the point in the neckline was going to stab her in the throat, and she was not sure how to be sexy when she was trying not to die. It was another pass for her. 
There was only one dress left, and at that moment she was wishing to whoever was listening that she had picked out a few more choices. Dean was whistling now, some Zeppelin tune she couldn’t exactly identify and she knew he was getting impatient. Y/n swapped the fabrics on her body, pulling the thin straps of the red satin piece up onto her shoulders. The dress clung to her skin, the fabric lightweight. 
“Y/n/n,” Dean’s voice was just outside the door, the new proximity of it startling her. “Come on, you have to show me at least one. I know you and you’ll just try vetoing them all.” Y/n swore under her breath because he was right and it pissed her off that he knew her that well. The zipper was out of her reach on her back and she supposed she wouldn’t be able to truly see what it looked like on her unless she zipped it up. 
“Fine, I need help with this zipper anyway,” she sighed and held the fabric against her naked chest while opening the door with her other. Dean was beaming when he came into view on the other side of the door. He snuck inside faster than a flea, the slamming of the door startling her again. 
Get it together woman, you kill monsters for a living, Y/n cursed herself. 
“Turn,” Dean instructed her with his fingers, and the woman obliged as she faced the mirror. Dean brushed her hair off her shoulder with his fingertips, the action barely distinguishable but it sent the hairs on the back of her neck standing to attention. With one hand holding the bottom stop, he used the other to tug on the pull tab, sliding together the teeth in one fluid motion. 
“Thanks,” Y/n’s words were soft as she made eye contact with the green-eyed hunter in the mirror. He ran his tongue of his bottom lip, pulling the plump flesh between his teeth as his eyes wandered over her exposed skin. 
Y/n visibly cringed as she looked at herself. Unfortunately, this was her favorite out of the three, but that didn’t mean she felt like she could venture anywhere in public in the thing. “Sweetheart, if that coroner hadn’t already been eyeing you up today, he would not know where to start when he sees you in this.” 
“Shut up,” Y/n scrunched her nose as she spun around to whack Dean’s shoulder. “You are so full of it.”
“Am not,” Dean scoffed, his eye softening before he continued. “Y/n, why don’t you see how beautiful you are?”
Y/n whipped around to stare at him, her arms crossing over her chest, not believing that those words come out of his mouth. Surely, he was playing with her…
“Have you looked at me, Dean?” Y/n slapped her hands against her thighs, emphasizing their jiggle upon impact. “I’m nothing special.” 
“I have looked at you,” His gaze traveled down her body again, his breath hitching slightly as he did so. “I’ve been looking at you for a while now.” The drop in Dean’s voice sent heat rushing through her body, the gravel undertone making her shiver. 
“Dean--” words escaped her as the hunter stepped into her personal space, pushing her back against the mirror. Dean’s left hand came to rest against the reflective surface just beside her head as he chewed on his lip. 
“I don’t think you know how hard it is for me to keep my eyes off of you,” he leaned into her, his nose brushing alongside hers. “And now, seeing you in this dress, I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep my hands off you.” 
A rush of confidence coursed through her blood as his hot breath fanned over her face and Y/n slipped her hands behind his neck, pulling his lips down to meet hers. The movement was anything but smooth, though the action sent both of the hunters into action. Dean growled as he nipped her lower lip and she opened up to him, allowing his tongue to invade her mouth. 
A moan involuntarily came from her as his hands moved to her hips, the heat of his skin seeping through the thin material where his finger pressed into her flesh. He stepped back, pulling her after him as he backed up and dropped to sit on the plush bench. Dean bunched up the material to her hips as he urged her to straddle his lap. Y/n used her hands on his shoulders to steady herself, the new bulge in his pants a surprise to her as she settled in his lap. 
“Yeah, and you thought I was kidding,” Dean took in the slight rise in her brow, leaning forward to run his lips across her jaw, taking note of the places that made her shiver. Her eyes were squeezed shut as she allowed Dean to explore her body and let herself just feel him. Dean raked his teeth along with the shell of her ear, causing her to buck her hips and both of them to groan.  
“Fuck,” her words were a breath on her lips as she repeated the action, the roughness of his jeans just enough friction on her aching sex. 
“That’s it, beautiful, take what you need,” Dean sat back and used his hands to keep her body moving against his own, watching the way her brows scrunched together in the center of her forehead. With a shift of his hips, he had her pushed back and straddling his left thigh, his hands still in their place on her hips. “Can you come like this, sweetheart?”
“I don’t--” a jolt of electricity had her halting her denial, instead she chose to just nod and place her hands against his chest to balance her movement. She could feel Dean’s heart hammering in his chest under her palm and the quick rise and fall of his breath. Even at this moment, she was disbelieving that he was that turned on watching her get herself off on his thigh, but she had the proof hammering under her fingertips. Y/n was biting her lip to keep quiet in the small room. “Dean, I’m so close.” 
“I’ve got you, come for me, Y/n,” he husked as his grip tightened, though she wasn’t sure how that was even possible, seeing as there was already gonna be bruises there later, that she was sure of. The sound of his voice reverberating in her head had the coil snapping inside of her, heat flooding her body as every nerve sparked and faded out. A rush of air left her lungs, her body slumping as her muscles relaxed post-orgasm. 
“Oh my god.” As her arousal ebbed from her body and the reality of what just happened came to her sense, Y/n clammed up and she tried to climb from his lap. Blood rushed to her face and her hands flew to her cheeks to hide the heat settling there.
“Woah, where are you going?” Dean stopped her from making a hasty exit, his eyes searching hers in question. 
“Dean, what the hell just happened?” 
A smirk replaced the confusion on his face as he leaned forward and nuzzled his face in her neck, tracing his tongue up her pulse. “You just got yourself off on my thigh while I tried not to cream my jeans,” he breathed in her ear. It was like he already knew every button to push on her body, his dirty talk doing everything she needed it to for her body to already be aching for him again. 
“I--”
“Shh, sweetheart. That was hot as fuck, and all I want now is to be buried deep inside that pretty pussy of yours.” 
“Jesus,” her eyes shifted to his, taking in the mischievous glint shining behind his iris. “You aren’t kidding.”
“Nope,” he popped the ‘p’ at the end of his word and Y/n nodded as she climbed off him. She turned her back to him so he could undo the zipper, and it took a second for Dean to catch on to her silent action. He jumped to the edge of the bench and tugged down the zipper before sliding the material down her shoulders. Dean hooked his fingers into the edge of her panties, placing a kiss on the dip in her lower back before pulling the soaked material to pool at her feet along with the dress. He stood then as she turned back to him and pushed his jacket and flannel down his arms, adding it to the pile of discarded clothes in the room. 
“Come, on we don’t have a lot of time before someone gets suspicious.” There was a quiver in her voice as she lifted the hem of his tee and tugged open his belt. It was taking everything in her to quell the shaking in her hands. Dean’s fingers came down to wrap around her wrists, halting her movement and she looked up at him. 
“Y/n we don’t have to,” he was trying to read her mind as he examined her face. The trepidation was seeping through her pores, but not because she didn’t want this. Hell, the painful ache between her legs told her how much she wanted this, but her brain couldn’t help to race through the million thoughts about what it all meant. 
“No, I-- God do I want this,” Y/n began chewing on the inside of her cheek as she tried to come up with the words to explain to him what she was thinking. But the longer the time passed the more nervous she grew, standing there stark naked and he’s still basically fully dressed. “I think I’ve wanted this for a long time now, but I’m just scared.”
“Of?” He urged her to continue.
“That this doesn’t mean the same thing to you,” Y/n cast her glance down, her eyes fixated on the way the fluorescent light glinted in the metal of his belt. 
“You think that this is about getting my dick wet for me.” It wasn’t a question, because she had all but spelled it out for him. “Y/n,” He put his fingers under her chin and turned her head back up to his, brushing his lips against hers, the action soft and unhurried. “I told you, I’ve been watching you for a while now, trying to learn everything I could about you. I would have done this the first night I met you if I hadn’t thought about what it would do to you. But I’m done being scared because I think I fell for you a long time ago and no amount of whiskey or other women could make me forget that. So I’m done fighting it.” 
“Yeah?” Her eyes were swimming with unshed tears now, and Dean answered her with another kiss, pulling her body flush against his own as he invaded her mouth. The pair only pulled apart when they could no longer fight the need for air. “Dean--”
“Yeah,” he breathed, dropping his grip on her to finish what she started with his belt. Y/n watched his movements, her breath getting caught in her throat as she watched him pull his length from its cotton confines. Dean signaled for her to turn with one hand as he stroked himself with the other. She obliged, of course, and Dean pushed her gently between her shoulder blades until her hands were pressed against the mirror. He nudged her legs to open a tad wider, meeting her gaze in the mirror. 
“Do we--” 
“I’m good if you’re good,” she told him, knowing where he was going with his question. He nodded to her before lining himself up with her entrance. Dean held her gaze as he entered her from behind, both of them sighing together as he became fully seated. Y/n closed her eyes as she tried to compose herself, her head falling between her arms. 
“Fuck, open your eyes, look at yourself,” Dean was biting his tongue as he swatted her ass to get her to lift her head again. She indulged him, looking at herself in the mirror before turning her eyes back to his in the mirror. “There you go,” he praised her, the words like music to her ears as he pulled back out and slammed into her hips. 
Dean set up a steady rhythm, careful to not shake the walls of the dressing too much with his movement. The couple kept their eyes on each other in the mirror, the moment the most erotic thing she could ever remember doing, but for the life of her, she couldn’t be bothered by it. Even from her vantage point, she could see how blown his pupils were, the black of his iris’ all but drowning out the green that she loved so much. To be honest, she wasn’t sure which she liked more now. All she did know was the feeling of him moving inside her and the way her muscles were shaking. 
A small knock had Dean stilling his movements, and Y/n stood up, pressing her back against his chest. He slipped an arm around her chest as she signaled for him to be silent. “You doing alright in there?” 
Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat and let out a breath, “Yeah,” she called back, afraid her voice would be too wrecked if she said anything else. 
“Is there anything else I can get you? Maybe some different sizes?” The saleswoman tried again. 
“Nope, I’m all set, thank you.” 
“Okay, just let me know.” The sound of her footsteps could be heard retreating from the dressing room, and Dean pressed his face into her neck, the pair of them chuckling. 
“Come on, sweetheart,” he adjusted their position, resuming the movement of his hips as he snaked his free hand down to rub against her clit. Y/n jolted in his arms at the contact, this time closing her eyes as he built her back up. “I’m right behind you. Can you come for me again?” Y/n nodded against him, her hands flying to his forearm as she felt herself jumping over the cliff, her mouth open in a silent scream. Her knees buckled and Dean had to adjust himself to keep her from falling, still fucking her from behind as her fluttering walls milked him to his own orgasm. He bit into her shoulder to keep himself from groaning out loud. 
“Sweet Jesus,” her body went limp in his arms as the pair of them caught their breath in the now muggy space. 
“Yeah, you are so not going out with that coroner tonight. We will find a different way.” Dean admitted as he pulled his now softening cock from her. Y/n flinched at the feeling and the subsequent rush of his release inside her. 
“What?” She turned to him as he began righting himself, not understanding why he didn’t want her to do her job.
“‘Cause you are all mine now,” Dean tugged her into his chest, his fingers around one of her biceps. “And I want to spend all night making sure you can’t walk tomorrow.” 
“Oh,” Dean laughed as she blinked at him, clearly lost for any sort of coherent answer to what he just told her. 
“Get dressed so we can get out of here and kick Sammy out of our motel room.” Dean tapped her ass again and she pushed him away from her, a stupid grin on both of their faces.
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Forevers: @22sarah08​ @akshi8278​ @anathewierdo​ @atc74​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​​ @callmekda​ @dawnie1988​ @deanwanddamons​ @ellewritesfix05​ @emoryhemsworth​ @flamencodiva​​ @foxyjwls007​ @hobby27​ @janicho88​ @jensengirl83​ @katehuntington​ @lyarr24​ @malfoysqueen14​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​ @msmarvelouswinchester​ @polina-93​​ @sleepylunarwolf​ @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan​ @smol-and-grumpy​ @superfanficnatural​ @supraveng​ @talesmaniac89​ @tranquility-or-chaos​​ @waywardbeanie​ @winchest09​
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natvrefairy · 4 years ago
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Hi, I saw ur request rules and wondered if I could ask for a merlin X reader (romantic) and it's like really fluffy? Thx 😊
A/N: Of course! I'm so happy my first request is for Merlin, because both him and the entire show are just so iconic. I really hope you like this. :)
Something Meaningful (Merlin x Reader)
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Requested: Yes!
Reader Pronouns: They/them
Word Count: 1,529
C/W: Uther is dead. A little bit of self-doubt on Merlin's side. Occasional rant. A little bit of stream of consciousness. (Cause I'm experimenting with that technique.) Fluff!
Context: Morgana's alive and good. Mordred and the rest of the knights are also still alive, but they're not really mentioned. Arthur and Gwen are King and Queen. Arthur's allowed magic in Camelot, and they know about and accept Merlin! And LGBTQ+ is accepted! (Cause reader is they/them, and there's no angst here. ^^)
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
When Uther died, Camelot was a bit of a mess. Not that it wasn't before; Uther's reign wasn't a particularly cheerful one. But although he wasn't the kindest person, people still loved him, and his death simply came as a shock to everyone.
Arthur took it the hardest. But honestly, that was to be expected. When most people lose their parent, they get time to grieve, but Arthur didn't have the luxury of time. Uther died, and Arthur was thrown into power.
The first few months were the worst. Not just for Arthur, but the whole castle. But with Guinevere and Merlin by his side, he got through it. And with Arthur as King, it no longer mattered what anyone thought of his relationship with Gwen, because she was now the Queen.
But with Guinevere becoming Queen, a small issue arose. The Lady Morgana no longer had a servant.
Morgana, being as lovely as she was, truly didn't care about the loss of her maidservant. She still had her friend, and enjoyed her independence. But her brother thought it necessary, so the job was given to (Y/N).
Gaius didn't appreciate losing his other helper, but he couldn't say no to the King, so that was that.
But then, Gwen also needed a servant. And once again, the job was given to (Y/N). Merlin most definitely did not approve of his best friend's drastic increase in work load.
"I always knew you were an ass, but I didn't realise you were stupid as well." Merlin told Arthur the following morning.
Arthur's new title as King didn't change Merlin's attitude towards him in the slightest.
"Merlin, you can't address me like that."
"I did before, why is it any different now? Your highness."
"I am the King."
"Doesn't change the fact that you're an ass."
(Y/N) managed to talk Merlin down, but that didn't mean he liked the idea of them having to rush around everywhere all the time. Although, at least it was only Gwen and Morgana, who were both perfectly capable of taking care of themselves.
If it was two Arthur's, that would be an entirely different story.
That was about two years ago now. Camelot has had law changes since; such as the lifted ban on magic, allowing people to freely practise their gift, and the new acceptance of anyone identifying as other than cisgender/heterosexual.
And finally, at long last, the land of Albion was united.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Having both grown up in Ealdor, Merlin and (Y/N) were always close. (Y/N) would constantly seek out Merlin and William, the three of them soon becoming best friends. When Merlin set off to Camelot, (Y/N) tagged along to look out for him, Will staying behind with his father.
Unlike Merlin, (Y/N) didn't possess any magic. But although being completely normal, they always went out of their way to try understand what their friend was going through. They never understood Uther's hatred towards magic. Even without having any themself, they absolutely adored Merlin's gift. Witnessing him in action never failed to put (Y/N) in a state of awe.
But of course, Merlin is much more than his magic. That, (Y/N) always knew, even when he didn't believe it himself. They were always there for him, and he was always there for them. That was how it always was, and how it always will be.
Which is why it was so hard for either of them to pinpoint exactly when their feelings grew. They always cared deeply for each other, but at some point, both completely unaware, those feelings blossomed until they were both completely and utterly in love.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
The two friends were granted the evening off, and unbeknownst to (Y/N), Gwen and Morgana had something up their sleeve. Having long figured out the pair's mutual yet oblivious feelings, the women decided to take matters into their own hands.
This involved giving them the evening off, and directly telling Merlin to confess.
"I'm sure they feel the same way," Gwen encouraged, "I know it's hard, but try something meaningful. If you can't say how you feel out loud, do something special instead."
So here Merlin was, a nervous wreck as he lead (Y/N) outside of Camelot, to a small forest clearing. What if they didn't like it? What if they turned him down? Then it could lead to disaster and they won't want to be his friend anymore and everything they had built will go to waste.
"Merlin," (Y/N) grasps his hand, immediately gaining his attention, "whatever has you stressing out, it's okay. I'm here, and I always will be. We'll face it together."
Taking a deep breath, he had them close their eyes, before gently leading them in the right direction. Glancing around to make sure everything was in place, he tried his best to calm his nerves.
'You can do this,' he thought to himself, 'you can tell dragons what to do, and they listen. This should be easy.'
"Merlin?"
"Oh, right, sorry. You can open your eyes now."
Opening their eyes, (Y/N) gaped at the scene before them. A rug laid out on the grass, all their favourite snacks and fruit laid out in front of them. Glancing between the dinner and Merlin in a combination of joy and surprise, they struggled for words.
"You did all of this?"
"Well, I may have stolen some things from the kitchen, but... I hope you like it?"
(Y/N) laughed - one of Merlin's favourite sounds - and pulled him over to sit down.
"Thank you."
Just their smile was enough to calm Merlin's nerves, and everything melted away as they began to eat, telling stories and laughing. Everything between them seemed perfect.
That is, everything except for the unsaid feelings.
As they finished and the moon began to rise, they cleared up a bit before laying down to stargaze.
"Star-gazing was a good idea," (Y/N) said softly after a while, turning their head to face Merlin, "but I have to ask, what was this all for?"
"What? Aren't I allowed to just spend time with my best friend?" Merlin replied, a little too quickly.
"Of course, but that's not what I mean. You seemed really nervous earlier. I can tell when you want to say something, Merlin."
He turned his head away in embarrassment, so (Y/N) shifted their body to properly face him.
"Hey, look at me," they said, placing their hand on his cheek and tilting his head back towards them, "you know you can always tell me anything. We've been through so much together. Nothing will scare me away."
Merlin gazed into their eyes in silence for a moment, before speaking up, voice barely a whisper, "It's hard to say it out loud. Can I just show you?"
"Of course. Whatever's best for you."
Slowly, he moved one hand to rest on (Y/N)'s cheek, hesitating slightly as his gaze shifted between their captivating (E/C) eyes and plump lips. Finally, deciding it's either now or never, he leaned forward, tilting his head as he captured their lips in a tentative kiss. He felt them stiffen slightly, his heart racing as his mind flooded with unwanted thoughts. This was the end. They were going to shove him away and never speak to him again.
But then, the thing he expected least of all happened; they actually reciprocated the kiss.
Their hand moved to his hair, butterflies going wild in their stomach. They never expected him to feel the same way about them, and now they couldn't even think straight. The only thing they could concentrate on was the feeling of his lips on their own.
Eventually, the sweet moment came to an end, leaving each of them completely breathless, faces only inches apart. They gazed into each other's eyes, catching their breath while they both tried to process what just occurred.
Then, all at once Merlin freaked out and started a rant, desperately trying to explain himself. Apology after apology flooded out of his mouth, raving on and on about how much he loves them and how he probably ruined everything and should have just kept his feelings all to himself.
(Y/N) cut him off with a small kiss on his lips, leaving him staring at them in shock when they pulled away.
"I love you too, Merlin. I thought I was so obvious about it," she laughed softly, gently running her fingers through his hair. "I'm so lucky to have you in my life, and I'm glad you feel the same."
His shock vanished, and he gave that heartwarming smile of his as he wrapped his arms around them, pulling them close. "You have no idea how happy that makes me."
And so they stayed there like that, laying and enjoying each other's company in the comfort of their mutual feelings. They stayed there until they decided it was time to head back and face Gaius' concerned wrath on them staying out so late. But for once, it didn't bother them listening to his lecture, because their lives had just changed for the better.
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iimpavidwrites · 4 years ago
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Benzaiten Steel and the Fragility of Perception
or: reasons why setting boundaries is important #1283
I’ve figured out a reason why Benzaiten Steel stayed with his mother instead of doing the “sensible” thing and moving out. I think that it’s possible, too, that Juno has always been aware of the answer but, in the scope of Juno Steel and the Monster’s Reflection, he isn’t able to face it head-on because it contradicts his black/white, either/or sense of morality.
TL;DR: Despite Juno Steel’s unreliable narration we are able to see clearly the enmeshed relationship Benzaiten had with their mother Sarah and the ways in which that unhealthy family dynamic shaped Juno Steel as a person.
Sources: 50% speculation, 20% lit crit classes, 30% my psychology degree. 
Juno’s perception of Ben is shallow and filtered through the limitations of human memory. We all know by now, too, that Juno’s an Unreliable Narrator™.  In light of this, we need to ask ourselves why it is that Juno remembers Ben as happy, supportive, and only ever gentle in the challenges he poses to Juno. Throughout the episode, Ben’s memory is clearly acting as a comforting psychopomp: he ferries Juno through the metaphorical death of his old understanding of his mother (and also himself) and into a new way of thinking. He does this through persistent-but-kind questions, never telling Juno what to do or how to do it. This role could have been played by anyone in Juno’s life (Mick and Rita come to mind first) which makes it telling that Juno’s mind chose Ben to fill this role.
Juno’s version of Ben is cheerful, endlessly patient with Juno and Sarah, and above all he is compassionate. He acts as a mediating presence between Juno and Juno’s memory of Sarah and he doesn’t ask a whole lot for himself. If this is Juno’s strongest memory/impression of Ben’s behavior and perspective, then we can draw some conclusions about the roles they each played in the Steel family unit: Juno was antagonistic to Sarah and vice versa, and Ben was relegated to the role of mediator for the both of them.
Juno: She’s just evil. Ben: That’s a big word. Juno: “Evil”? Ben: No, “Just”.
We can see in this exchange that Ben is a vehicle for the compassion Juno needs to show not only to Sarah but to himself, too, in order to move on and evolve his understanding of his childhood traumas. 
This is not necessarily an appropriate role for a sibling or a child to hold in a family unit.
In family psychology, one of the maladaptive relationship patterns that is discussed is enmeshment. Googling the term you’ll find a lot of sensational results (e.g. “emotional incest syndrome”) that aren’t necessarily accurate in describing what this dysfunction looks like in the real world. This is in part because enmeshment can present many different ways. So, in order to proceed with this analysis of Benzaiten Steel’s relationship with his mom, I need to define enmeshment. 
Enmeshment occurs when the normal boundaries of a parent-child relationship are dissolved and the parent becomes over-reliant on the child, requiring the child to cater to their emotional needs and to otherwise become a parent to the parent (or to themself and/or to other children in the family). This is easiest to spot when a parent confides in a child as if they’re a best friend, disclosing details of their romantic life, expecting the child to give them advice on coping with work stress, and similar. Once enmeshment occurs, any kind of emotional shift in one member of the enmeshed household will reverberate to the others; self-regulation and discernment (e.g. figuring out which emotions originate in the parent and which ones originate in the child) becomes extremely difficult for the effected child and parent. When an enmeshed child becomes an enmeshed adult they often have issues with self-identity and interpersonal boundaries. For example, they may struggle to define themselves without external validation and expect others to be able to intuitively divine their emotions. After all, the enmeshed adult could do this with their parent and others easily due to hypervigilance cultivated by their parent and they may not understand that such was not the typical childhood experience. These adults are often individuals to whom the advice “don’t set yourself on fire to keep someone else warm” is often relevant and disregarded. They may perceive their own needs as superfluous to others’-- and resent others as a consequence.
Another layer of complication is added when the parent in an enmeshed relationship is an addict, as Sarah Steel was. The enmeshed child often times becomes the physical caregiver to their parent as well and must cope with all the baggage loving an addict brings: the emotional rollercoaster of the parent trying to get clean or the reality of their neglecting or stealing from their child to support their habit or their simply being emotionally absent. Enmeshment leaves children with a lot of conflicting messages about their role in the family, how to conduct relationships, and how to define themself.
We only get an outside perspective on this enmeshment in the Steel family. It’s clear in the text that Juno’s relationship with his mother was fraught. He jokes in The Case of the Murderous Mask that she didn’t kill him but “not for lack of trying”, implying that Ben’s murder wasn’t the first time Sarah Steel lashed out at Juno-- or thought she was lashing out at Juno but hurt Ben instead. During the entire tenure Juno’s trek through the underworld of his own trauma, Juno asks the specter of Benzaiten over and over, “Why did you stay?”. This is a question that Juno himself can’t answer because Ben, when he was alive, probably never gave him an answer that Juno found satisfactory. There are a few possibilities, which I can guess from experience, as to what the answer was:
Ben may never have been able to articulate that his relationship with their mother left him feeling responsible for her wellbeing. 
Or, if he ever told Juno that, Juno may have simply brushed off this concern. After all, as far as Juno was concerned, Sarah was only ever just evil. To protect himself from his mother’s neglect and codependence, Juno shut down his own ability to perspective-take and think about the nuances that might inform a person’s addiction, mental illness, abusive behavior, etc.
It is likely that Ben thought either his mother needed him to survive or, alternatively, that he couldn’t survive without her-- as if often the case with children who are enmeshed with their primary caregiver. It was natural and necessary for him, from this perspective, to stay. Enmeshment is a very real psychological trap.
It is often frustrating and hard as hell to love someone who is in an enmeshed relationship because, from the outside, the damage being done to them seems obvious. See: Juno’s assertion that Sarah was just evil. Juno is, even 19 years later, still angry about Sarah Steel and her failures as a parent and as a person. His thinking on this subject is very black-and-white. He positions Sarah as a Bad Guy in his discussions with Ben-the-psychopomp and the childhood cartoon slogan of “The Good Guys Always Win!” is repeated ad nauseum throughout Juno’s underworld journey. This mode of thinking serves two purposes:
First, it illustrates the role Juno played in the household: he was opposed to Sarah in all things and Sarah did not require any compassion or enmeshment from Juno. Juno was, quite possibly, neglected in favor of Ben which would create a deep resentment… toward both Sarah and toward Ben. This family dynamic would reinforce Juno’s shallow moral reasoning and leave him with vague, unachievable ideals to strive for like “Be One of the Good Guys” or “Don’t Be Like Mom” -- ideals that he can’t reach because he is a flawed human being and not a cartoon character, creating a feedback loop of resentment toward his mother and guilt about resenting Benzaiten. That guilt would further bolster Juno’s shallow memory of Ben as being infallibly patient, kind, loving, etc. 
Second, Juno’s black/white moral reasoning is an in-text expression of the meaning behind Juno’s name. When “Rex Glass” points out that Juno is a goddess associated with protection, Juno immediately has a witty, bitter rejoinder  ready about Juno-the-goddess killing her children. Juno was named for a deity who in some ways strongly resembles Sara Steel and he resents that he is literally being identified as his own mother. Juno-the-goddess has one hell of a temper, being the parallel to Rome’s Hera. Juno is not a goddess (detective) who forgives easily when she (he) knows that a child (Benzaiten Steel) has been harmed. This dichotomy of “venerated protector” versus “vengeful punisher”  causes psychological tension for Juno that is only partially resolved in The Monster’s Reflection. The tension is not fully resolved, however, because Juno never gets a clear answer for the question, “Why did you stay?”
The answer is there but it is one that Juno doesn’t like and so can’t articulate: Ben is enmeshed with Sarah who named him, of all things, Benzaiten and that is why he stayed. We’ve already seen that names have intentional significance in the text. Benzaiten is hypothesized to be a syncretic deity between Hinduism and Buddhism, is a goddess primarily associated with water. Syncretic deities are fusions of similar deities from different religions/cultures; their existence is the result of compromise and perspective-taking and acceptance. Water, too, is forgiving in this way: it takes the shape of whatever container you pour it into... not unlike a child who is responsible for the emotional wellbeing of their entire family unit. Not unlike Benzaiten Steel.
Ben stayed with his mother because his relationship with his mother was enmeshed, leaving him little choice but to stay, and this ultimately led to tragedy. Sarah Steel’s failures as a parent are many and Juno still has a lot of baggage to unpack in that regard, especially where Ben is concerned. It’s unlikely that we’ll get the same kind of “speedrunning therapy” episode again but I know that The Penumbra is committed to a certain amount of psychological realism in its character arcs so I am confident in asserting that Juno Steel isn’t finished. Recovery is a journey and he’s only taken the first steps.
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howyoutalktostrangers · 2 years ago
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So,
I know I have a tendency to flip flop on this issue.
Ever since I've been fist-fighting Jehovah as if He exists, I've been struggling with how to self-identify. My litany of issues with contemporary Christianity made it nearly impossible for me to feel at home in a church, or a religion, of any kind. I wasn't quite an atheist, and I felt agnostics were weak-minded fence-sitters.
But in these past three weeks, the Big Man really showed up for me. Really, it's about semantics. I never lost faith in intelligent design, or the belief that there's a supernatural force that is so vast that it's unknowable to us. As Tersteegen wrote, "A God comprehended is not God." 
Another favourite quote from Frederick Buechner: “Without somehow destroying me in the process, how could God reveal himself in a way that would leave no room for doubt? If there were no room for doubt, there would be no room for me.”
Well, now it feels like I have an answer. When I was running into traffic with my dick out, sequestered in isolation and screaming like a demented goon, yodelling at the sky about how none of this fucking makes sense, Jesus showed up in a way that's difficult to explain. He showed up in the homeless addicts I met, in the Hell's Angel biker named Bones that bummed me a smoke when I escaped from the psych ward in Kamloops, and He showed up in the cracked spirit of my first little wife Jen Tucker. In other words, He showed me all the fissures in life where the light is shining through.
Last night I met the air conditioning guy from the hospital, and for 20 minutes we talked about Haida Gwaii, Stephen Reid the bank robber, and the cultural rules surrounding being a deep sea fisherman. He told me that he once jumped on to the back of a sea lion and rode it, and he gave me advice for which rivers I should go rafting down. He was in his 60s, in a blue work shirt, and he definitely reminded me of my Dad — though he swore a lot more. He recommended a show called the Almighty Johnsons in which a Kiwi family become Norse Gods. 
This whole issue has a particular urgency because I need to know where my sister is. Kathryn. I need to feel like somebody else caught her when we let her go. Metaphorically, I want to believe that my giant God has her gathered in his lap like a cat, telling her that it's all over now and she's going to be okay. I need to believe that when she died in my parent's basement, she wasn't alone. 
And she wasn't, guys. We were there. 
Call it a spiritual catharsis; this has been the craziest adventure of my life and has had a profound impact on my rebel soul. Late at night I would sit on my laptop listening to Anne Wilson singing to the lost and broken-hearted: "And all the wrong turns that you would /  Go and undo if you could / Who can work it all for your good? / Let me tell you about my Jesus."
From now on, I'd like you to call me God's Will. The Literary Goon
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nhaomei · 4 years ago
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Omen - Viper - Sage theories coming up so buckle up kiddos
SO! Whatever happened to Sage and Viper, but mostly to Omen is what has caused the dimension break, creating multiple dimensions. Now, hear me out, bear with me, let me explain. So, whatever it was that has caused Omen to become what he is now, it has ripped him apart again and again, we know that. He has died multiple times. ("There is... another of me. How many times did I get ripped apart? How many times did I die?") His most important quote is "I am the beginning, I am the end." What does he mean by beginning? Maybe the dimension break, if it weren't for him getting split, all of this shit wouldn't have happened. Now, to talk about what I think he means about being "the end": Viper wants to help Omen become human again, it is one of the main things what drives Omen as well, it seems ("I will take back what is mine."). Although, I don't think he is sure of him ever becoming human again is possible. ("My burden never ends.") The voice lines have lead me to the conclusion that while the other agents ("impostors", "copies") are alternative versions of their 'original' selves (they are the same, but completely different... am I making sense?), Omen's 'copies' are way more than that. When he got ripped apart, he got 'split' between worlds/dimensions ("Split... sighs they don't know the meaning of the word.") that is why he is also always glitching, he is struggling to keep himself in one place, something is always pulling against him... (Although we know from one of his voice lines that if he gives in to this 'strain', he dies: "I let go for a second!" - when he gets resurrected (and some more voice lines fit in here but-, yea too lazy to write them all)) Fragments of himself literally scattered, either resulting in appearing in the many dimensions, or even creating them. Omen clearly shows some serious struggle to remember what has happened to him, and judging by his interactions, it is murdering other Omen's that gets parts of his memories back. "I will kill that Omen. I will take his memories. I will remember." // (Viper: "I wonder what's inside their Omen. What truth is he keeping from ours?") I do believe that he is especially out for the other Omen's blood.
But! It’s worth noting that he also feels better about himself when he's slaughtering the copies ("I feel like myself. Catch them. Again!" // "Again. Hurt them, again!") "How many must I kill before I am restored? sigh More. Always more." This could refer to the copies as well, but I think he is talking about killing other Omens. He seems to be very enthusiastic about killing his other selves, after all. Lil bit more I feel like could be connected to him feeling more like himself when he kills: "Close, I am so close." // "I can be even more." (The last two are new voice lines from deathmatch) Alright, so about his relationship with Viper. It is obvious that they've known each other before the 'tragedy' happened (Don't really know what else to call it, truth be told), we know that from their (mostly Viper's) voice lines. However, there is something that Viper is keeping from Omen. They both talk about getting the enemy Omen's memories. Maybe she kept some for herself? How... do you keep memories? Maybe I'm completely off track with this one, but her keeping secrets from him despite them trusting the other is worth mentioning. ("Don't die here, Sabine. I need your secrets.") Another thought: Maybe Omen knew the risk he was taking when he confronted the... thing that has eventually turned him into Omen (if we go with the theory of him not being the results of a failed experiment which I honestly doubt is true, but we don't know that yet. These are but theories.) What made me believe this was this voice line: "Make the right choice, even if it calls for sacrifice." Maybe it was an act of self sacrifice? (He took a risk to... to save something? Someone? Or for the sake of something I didn't think of? And well, he took the risk and look where it has lead... but maybe the other option was far worse? Maybe they had no idea what the options even were? Or what risks he/they were taking?) Him and Viper might have been counting on Sage to help them if things were to go wrong, alas, whatever it was that has happened was beyond Sage's powers. Omen: "I survived obliteration. I will survive them." I do not know what to say to this line, honestly. It's pretty self explanatory. Worth mentioning, though. 'Obliteration' does sound like something beyond Sage's powers to me x) So due to unknown forces (a massive explosion? a rift? idk) Omen has died, got split etc etc, and maybe Sage did try to revive him, maybe it did succeed, but not in the way they wanted it to; Omen was beyond redemption at this point. But she did reach out to him. With time I'm positive she has honed her skills enough for even Omen to recognize her strength. ("Sage, you are truly... limitless.") // (Sage: "I wasn't strong enough before, but now, now I am strong enough for us all." // "This is what I trained for.")
I do not know how to phrase this, but Omen has... ascented? Well, he certainly did become something way more than human. He senses when people are afraid around him, he feels what Sage's powers do to 'the natural balance' ("A Radiant healer is with them. I can feel her pull against the natural balance..."). Both him ("I have reset the balance." // "I will break the balance."- although the latter he means metaphorically, says it when the teams are tied) and Sage ("Tip the balance in our favour.") seem to have their hands on the scale, both tipping it. Sage pulling against the balance by reviving people, Omen resetting the balance by... killing? But why with killing? Well... another theory coming up: "Sage, the life you give. Do you ever wonder where it's taken from?" Remember what I wrote about Omen feeling like himself when killing others (and Omens)? I guess you could say he 'collects' when he kills to get 'restored' (back to the line: "How many must I kill before I am restored? sigh More. Always more.")... what it is he collects though, I lack the vocabulary to explain. Maybe that is where she gets the life from; from Omen. And if this is true, it also keeps him from getting restored. A quote from Viper that might be referring to this: "One more time, Omen. laughs How many times have you heard that now?"
Omen feels more obliged to kill and ‘tip the balance’ when sage tips the balance by reviving. Even, just maybe, that it’s stretched to Reyna “(...) You give life, i take it.” in a way, he is maybe fixing what sage has ‘broken’ or is doing what he believes will fix it. While we are at Viper, whatever that 'Obliteration' was, maybe Viper got blamed for it. She either lost everything due to the 'obliteration' or they took it away from her (she might has done time? idk this was a sudden idea haha) OR! A third idea. She might have been there when the 'tragedy' was happening; maybe a rift opened? Maybe that was the first time clones have appeared? Since it is the clones she is talking to when she says these lines: "You wanted a villain!? I gave you a villain!" // "I am your monster. You made me this way. Never forget that." // "Let's take from them what they took from me... Everything." // "They call me a monster. Shall I prove them right?" // ("I will not loose my home again." // "Hurt those who hurt us." // "We will hurt them.") ...Or I'm completely wrong and she is talking about something different. We shall not forget about Kingdom. Now, about Sage and Viper's vendetta against her. "Sage, you're the only one able to keep us alive. Don't fail us now, like you failed me then." Worth noting, she didn't say 'us', but 'me', 'don't fail me’. It is possible that she is talking about what has happened with Omen, but I think its more connected to her losing everything she had. How, you may ask? To answer that question: I have absolutely no clue. "That's payback, Sage." -When she kills Sage. Well, "Hurt those who hurt us." // "I am your monster. You made me this way." Hmm? Might be connected to Sage. Once again, I don't have many ideas what it is that Sage has (or hasn't) done for Viper to be so mad at her. Now a little bit about Sage! She doesn't really talk much about Viper, her voice lines are more directed towards Omen. "Omen. You are a force of nature!" (in contrast to Omen's voice line about her 'pulling against the natural balance') According to google: "To say a person is a force of nature means the person is a very strong personality or character.  In short, a person that is full of energy, unstoppable, and unforgettable. These attributes can play out in many ways, and those viewed as a force of nature, or who self-identify in this way, need to have an acute awareness of the impact, and consequences, sometimes unintended, of their power." ‘Force of nature’ in this case can be used in two contexts: to compliment omen by proclaiming he is strong, or to say that he is... one with the balance? His powers and who he is is literally a ‘force of nature’, becomes merged less with humanity and towards the unknown abyss of what we do know. Sage most definitely pities Omen. I'm convinced about that. "I wonder what torture their Omen is going through. Is it like ours? Poor soul." Does she know what her Omen is going through though? Hmm maybe she does. Sage and Omen embody life and death, Omen does feel her powers, but does she feel his? I say yes. And here is why: "Their Omen might be a nightmare, but I was never scared of the dark." Omen's whole kit works around fear, he fights by inflicting fear in his enemies. We know that from his many voice lines, his abilities and that one voice line from Phoenix: "Omen wins by fear. Don't let him get to you!" I don't believe an ordinary human is able to withstand Omen's paranoia. Sage however (while being human herself) does not fear him. Why? She knows better than that. She knows more. To quote Omen "They fear death... they should fear so much more than that." Sage might be aware of a huge chunk of what Omen knows... and knowledge keeps her from being afraid. That is all I have, thank you for coming to my TedTalk. Also! Feel free to share your thoughts on the matter, I’m curious! ----- Special thanks to @breaddaerb for helping me out finish a few thoughts
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