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happilylovingchaos · 10 months ago

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Post-ep Thoughts: This was late, along with my 1x04 post. But I think this is the first time I’ve had to rewatch an episode during a rewatch period. And I already left a whole-ass live-comment stream (sorry for the clutter, Lemon). And also, this is where I admit to inserting my biases and experiences with the show becoming more relatable for me. Perhaps not only for me.

This episode really leaned into the theme of “pride” and how easy it is for one person to think another suffers from too much of it, but it being way more complicated than that— even prideful people can put their ego aside at low points or with prompting (by choice, of course), and people who don’t consider themselves prideful have moments where they crack and show that their humble-bragging leans more towards “bragging” and less towards humility.

I’ll just cover probably the least-liked (presumably) plot segment first— I like that Michelle and Dustin’s grudge wasn’t that dragged out, even if Dustin took some… coaxing from a third party to get the two of them to just sit down and listen to each other. Like, really listen.

Can the missing moments include some moments between Iris and Dustin? It seems like on some level he may have taken her for granted and he’s definitely just as vindictive as Michelle, but he clearly cared for her sister and didn’t want to see her put herself in unneeded danger.

This did seem like a good twist in Michelle’s mystery, hearing about Iris’ sudden change in personality (“You didn’t know her, and neither did I.”). That’s always hard to hear about, regardless of how much mental health is part of a loved one/ friend’s drastic change.

Future Owen: “Hey Past Me, you wanna confront this perceived dickhead, let’s at least do it smart.” Honestly, I found Owen kinda badass in the moment as much as anyone (I mean, showing up drunk at your friend’s enemy’s doorstep, puking on their shoes, pivoting to beating them up righteously and leaving with grace and an apology for the mess? What a dad move), but Michelle and Owen are supremely lucky that Dustin didn’t file a restraining order to Owen as well. Plus, foreshadowing anger and righteousness issues…

As for the featured emergencies, starting with the steak call:

*gestures everywhere to everything in the bar* This. ALL of this. Is part why I HATE eating contests and question why the hell we as humans and Americans consider it an idea of “fun.” Just divvy up those steak portions, give them to actual starving people in your area of Texas (or for that matter if it can be managed, take it statewide), and save yourself the gastrointestinal/ urinary pains. That’s literally one of the few doable win-wins anyone can do to cut down on nationwide food waste and nutritional issues in increments.

Tangent: Agents of SHIELD gave me an unexpected and relevant (????) scientific tidbit: MNT is the first compound created to make TNT. So Michelle + Nancy + Tim? MNT? Coincidence? Maybe, maybe not. *wink wink nudge nudge* (Sorry, Tim.)

From what I can infer, I headcanon Tim to be the grounder/ voice of reason on this team when Michelle starts thinking steps ahead in a call. In a different procedural series like Code Black or M*A*S*H, I could def see her as a lowkey-cowgirl (turned former if dishonorably discharged) corpswoman/ combat surgeon.

To the yoga girl: I’d feel bad for her, but… I only feel bad that she got hurt at all, and that it only took one decision to leave her crippled.

The corn silo call had me the most on edge from start to end. Personally, Judd for the most part was kinda right to be mad with TK about potentially putting himself and Marjan in danger, just wrong to automatically assume TK had it easy in firefighting because of Owen.

Marjan could still have gotten sucked in then sucked out of the silo with the guy, and with/ without TK diving in to try pull her out. That said, I liked seeing Judd as incident commander even if he didn’t handle his anger at TK disobeying… in the most level way.

Besides the workings of Ramadan and the choices to wear a hijab or not, I don’t know anything else about Islam. That said, I wonder if the hijab is something that sets Natacha apart from her character? Otherwise, she does have very pretty hair. And, well, maybe there’s another (slightly less conservative) mosque or Muslim group in Texas if Zara gets to be more of an alpha bitch. (Later, there’s not a lot of accurate Muslim portrayal, or Marjan following her religion in-series, which… I get. I also think the writers’ room should both do some more research, and allow a Muslim-versed or Middle-Eastern writer onto the team if the overall goal is inclusivity.)*

I wish Marjan and Paul’s conversation had more time to continue. This was her first test of her integrity until seasons 2 and 4, and… hindsight sucks whenever there are missed opportunities. But, I like their friendship development and how Paul’s Strickland Sense plays off Marjan.

TSP: Late February (post-Valentine’s Day) to early March 2019, takes place over 9 days at least, I think 13 days at most (b/c pretty sure TK isn’t gonna heal that fast from the bar fight). General timeline: days 1-2: corn silo call —> Judd and TK fight —> brawl at The Trap —> police station scene. Day… 4-8: yoga malfunction —> 🥩 call —> Marjan and Zara —> 126 bar hangout —> Owen confronts Dustin. Day 9-10: make-ups btwn Dustin and Michelle + Judd and TK —> Day 13: tornado stinger.

TK’s timeline: days 1-2: corn silo call —> Judd and TK fight —> brawl at The Trap —> police station scene. Day 8: 126 bar hangout. Days 9-10: makes up w/ Judd.

Owen’s timeline: days 1-2: corn silo call —> day 3-8: yoga malfunction —> 126 bar hangout —> Owen confronts Dustin.

Michelle’s timeline: days 1-2: corn silo call. Day 3-8: yoga malfunction —> 🥩 call —> 126 bar hangout. Day 9-10: making up with Dustin.

Marjan’s timeline: days 1-2: corn silo call. Days 3-8: hijab fallout —> Zara —> yoga malfunction —> 126 bar hangout.

Episode 1x03 Texas Proud Discussion Thread

Please feel free to use the comment thread and tags of this post throughout the week as a place to liveblog while watching the episode, discuss with friends, post your metas and thoughts etc. Anything you’d like to discuss while watching the episode is welcome!!

Please reblog this post for visibility!!

#911 lone star rewatch 2024 #911 lone star #episode 1x03 discussion thread #michelle blake #owen strand #tk strand #marjan marwani #paul strickland #mateo chavez #carlos reyes #judd ryder #grace ryder

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jdgo51 · 10 months ago

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Emotions of Grief

Today's inspiration comes from:

Through a Season of Grief

by Bill Dunn & Kathy Leonard

Editor's note: Grief that comes with loss is overwhelming. Emotions are so heavy, we can stagger beneath the weight. Scripture becomes even more precious during bereavement because we remember that God will never leave us alone. Lean in with this excerpt from Through a Season of Grief.

"'Your Emotions

Your emotions can be intense, draining, and hard to hold back; they run deep and are tangled up inside you.

Everyone goes through some unexpected emotions, and it helps for you to identify and sort out the emotions that apply to you. This is part of the healing process.

Which emotions have you experienced during the grieving process?

denial rejection guilt anger jealousy fear pain loss sorrow apathy rage confusion anxiety sadness inadequacy envy dread anguish betrayal distrust loneliness helplessness disappointment resentment vindictiveness depression bitterness dismay abandonment lack of control

Jesus can identify with your sorrows.

He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering. Like one from whom men hide their faces He was despised, and we esteemed Him not. — Isaiah 53:3

Lord Jesus, You alone know my suffering and pain. Please sort through these emotions with me. Amen.

Sudden and Unpredictable

Emotions during grief do not occur in an orderly fashion. You cannot follow a checklist and mark off the emotions you are finished with and then move on to the next. They come suddenly and unpredictably.

“People ask me, ‘How are you doing?’ And I say, ‘Wonderful.’ One moment I’m sobbing uncontrollably — I carry Kleenex around in my pocket — and the next moment I’m so exhilarated with joy with all that God is doing in my life,” says Dr. Jim Conway.

Circumstances will change. People will change. Surroundings will change. But the Bible leads you to the one sure thing:

I the Lord do not change. — Malachi 3:6

Almighty, unchanging God, I grasp on to Your hand as my emotions confuse and overwhelm me. You alone cannot be moved, and I am confident that as long as I remain in You, I, too, will not be moved. Amen.

Out Of Control

Not only are your emotions unpredictable, but they may also seem uncontrollable. This changing nature combined with the intensity of the emotions can cause you to feel disoriented, forgetful, and over-powered.

“There was this overwhelming feeling of being out of control... overwhelmed and watching life pass by,” says Cindy following her daughter’s death.

Your response to these uncontrollable emotions can be confusing to you as well as to others; for instance, sometimes you may want people with you, and sometimes you do not. You may also act in ways you later regret.

Job expressed this sentiment:

If only my anguish could be weighed and all my misery be placed on the scales! It would surely outweigh the sand of the seas—no wonder my words have been impetuous. — Job 6:2–3

Precious Lord, You know the desires of my heart. In my confusion give me peace to know that You are in control of all life and You do not make mistakes. Amen.

God puts great salve on deep wounds.

This Can't Be Happening

Although your mind knows the facts, your heart is often reluctant to accept the death of someone you know and love.

“You may have a tendency to deny,” says Dr. H. Norman Wright. “Denial covers over the sharpness of the pain.”

Denial is a process that occurs during grieving to minimize the struggle. This is a natural and transitional part of your healing journey. Randy shares how he experienced denial after his sister died, but over time, he found that denial was impossible: “After the funeral I was basically in denial. I tried to dive into my work and forget about it. It’s taken a long time. Little things will remind me: things that she did, places she went to. Things like that will all of a sudden bring this very empty, hollow feeling inside me, where I can’t breathe. I feel like the air is just sucked out of me. It’s been five years, but trying to deny it or to ignore it is not possible.”

You may be tempted to “dive into” your work and fill your mind with anything but the truth of the situation. But the book of Proverbs tells us to be open to the truth and to pursue it:

Buy the truth and do not sell it; get wisdom, discipline and understanding. — Proverbs 23:23

Jesus, give me the courage to face the truth. With Your help I know I can do it. Amen.

Isolation

Sometimes you just want everyone to leave you alone. So you build a protective wall around yourself, not only to keep other people out, but also to guard against unwanted emotions. You may think you are playing it safe, but instead you are blocking out the healing.

“There are people who love you and want to pray for you and want to talk with you,” says Dr. Tim Clinton. “If you allow that to happen,

God puts great salve on deep wounds.”

Doesn’t that sound wonderful—a great salve on deep wounds? Jeremiah cried out to God for just such a thing and found Him to be faithful and true.

Is there no balm in Gilead? Is there no physician there? Why then is there no healing for the wound of my people? — Jeremiah 8:22

‘But I will restore you to health and heal your wounds,’ declares the Lord, ‘because you are called an outcast, Zion for whom no one cares’. — Jeremiah 30:17

Faithful God, bring me out of my self-imposed isolation that I may be healed by the Balm of Gilead—Jesus Christ. Amen.

Suppression Can Lead to Explosion

Are you quelling your emotions within you and consciously keeping them at bay? Think about the amount of force and energy this involves. Your emotions may be packed in so tightly that the pressure could build up to the point of possible explosion.

“You can delay the grieving process by denying it or just not allowing yourself to cry or to face it,” says Dr. H. Norman Wright. “It’s like you put a lid on your life and on your emotions. It is a form of repression, and whenever you repress any of your feelings, you bury them alive. Someday there will be a resurrection, but you will not be in charge of it. It could come through depression. It could come out through explosiveness.”

In the midst of overwhelming emotional suffering and pressure, Jesus looked to God with determination.

And being in anguish he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground. — Luke 22:44

Holy God, may my resolve to release my emotional pressure and to seek You be as earnest as Jesus’ prayer. Amen.

Anger: Your Strongest Emotion

The Bible instructs you to be angry!

Be angry, and yet do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger. — Ephesians 4:26 NASB

Anger by itself is not a sin, and it is one of the most common emotions associated with grief.

“I went through that shock and denial period for about three months,” says Dora after the death of her daughter. “Then suddenly, as the shock wore off and the reality set in—anger. Intense anger. Just wanting to wail, to scream from the depths. There’s no way I could express as much anger as I was feeling.”

You need to release your anger in a way that is productive for healing and not harmful to others around you. To release your anger does not mean to lash out, to throw a fit, or to lose control of it; releasing your anger involves the open and honest expression of your emotions in a way that is physically, mentally, and emotionally freeing. You can do this by expressing your anger to God in prayer (don’t hold back!). You can release your anger in the presence of a person who will listen quietly and neither judge nor offer advice. Another healthy way to release anger is to write down every angry thought that comes to mind until you cannot think of another angry sentence to write. Some people find that expressing their anger out loud—and loudly—in a private place is helpful.

The fact that you should “not let the sun go down on your anger” means you should deal with it when it is present. Don’t go to sleep and forget it, only to have it come back in greater strength later.

Holy Spirit, grant me the freedom and opportunity to release my anger in a way that helps, not hurts. Amen."'

Excerpted with permission from Through a Season of Grief by Bill Dunn and Kathy Leonard, copyright The Church Initiative, Inc.

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frankpanioncube · 1 year ago

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Obey Me Graduate Studies AU Part 3

Me laughing over my managerial meeting made me just remember that academics are demons probably. We’ll discuss what it says about me later.

Part One: Dia, Luci, Asmo, Satan, Mammon, Levi

Part Two: Beel, Belphie, Siemon, Solomon

Luke: Luke’s nearing finishing his second year of UG and he’s still a bit undecided. This has not gone unnoticed and he’s been pressured to choose a major already. He’s got fine grades in pretty well everything he’s tried but Universties don’t tend to offer the same stuff as trade colleges do and part of the problem is that Siemon is perpetually kind of lightly trying to pry him off his leg and stand up to Michael to let him do culinary school. In the end he does, but at some point, he takes some night classes in Theology.

Barbatos: Barbatos is the executive assistant to Diavolo’s head of the department. Barbatos has himself several degrees, it’s not unusual for that to happen. He’s even been known to guest-lecture now and then or even do a TED Talk. Mostly though, he orders books for the TA’s, makes sure the Grad Office printer isn’t out of paper, ensures no one books the spare office for TA time on top of eachother and ...oh if you aren’t giving the University money, Dr. Diavolo doesn’t have time for you. (Really he wants to, he misses being a prof and sometimes side-eyes Siemon for resisting it bigtime) but Barbatos is there to ensure that the whole department runs smoothly. It does. But that said, he is quite aware of every time someone downloads or checks out his thesis paper. He also knows every. Single. Horrible. Little Weird bit of nonsense that goes on in day-to-day life in the university. And remains silent, even if Asmo tries to get him to talk. (As an aside: I have done this job, I just basically described doing my own job.) Thirteen: Thirteen’s the tenured prof you can’t get rid of. No she’s unbelievably good at her job and super knowledgeable but she is 120% aware she’s good at her job, earned her spot and she can do what-ever-she-likes as she’s there now forever and no one can touch her. Now in some cases this is pretty cool. She teaches some fun classes. She’s a bit like Levi in that she kind of comes out with some very out of the box stuff that is very rooted in its’ discipline. On the other hand, she can be as petty, vindictive and horrible as she likes with her grading, she definitely plays favourites and is very fond of trap questions where your only fighting chance is - maybe if you’re an undergrad who couldn’t possibly have read her thesis - being someone who is in agreement with her thought processes...or...if you know the trick, agreeing with her. Sucks to be you if you try to challenge though. Even if you’re right...that’s an unfair advantage. Raphael: A young, VERY YOUNG Research Assistant and TA and while he’s smart and knowledgeable has had a bit of bad luck with people who’d take advantage of his inexperience. As such he has a hard streak and is very inflexible - you’re not getting a deadline extension from him. It’s not his fault, truly, he needs to learn some things and one of them is a bit of tolerance for the fact that students learn differently. He’s not much for the TA part of his discipline (but could become a little kinder with time) but he’s a wonderful lab and RA. He’s just young - he thinks he needs to be badass. It’ll take time but he’ll mellow. When he does he’ll still be kind of a hard marker but he won’t quite take the ‘I need to BE BADASS AND PROVE IT!’ route so much.

#obey me #obey me grad studies au #raphael #luke #thirteen #barbatos

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kythed · 4 years ago

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what love tastes like

terushima yuuji x reader

synopsis: in which you learn that falling in love tastes like monster

“Taste,” he says. He holds the cold rim of a freshly opened can to your lips, and first it’s metallic, salty, but then it’s sweet.

You take a sip.

“So you’re telling me you’ve never tried Monster before?” he asks, taking a drink himself. The two of you are sitting on a park bench across the street from a gas station. He licks his lips-- the silver ball embedded in his tongue winks at you, a shallow token of youthful rebellion that somehow seems more significant on him.

“Never. I’m more of a Dr. Pepper girl.” You reach for the can again, letting the saccharine liquid sloshing inside coat your tongue. It’s really too much for me, you think. But of course, you won’t tell him that.

“Not anymore,” he says, and he slips a firm hand around the back of your neck, pulling you towards him and daring you to look away with a wicked grin-- it’s attractive, to say the least. “Now you’re my girl.”

You’ve barely parted your lips to respond before his mouth is on yours, tongue halfway down your throat, and you’re whimpering into the kiss as he snakes a hand down your back and presses your body to his. The whole ordeal tastes like Monster and feels far more energizing than the packaging promises.

Within your first day of meeting him, Terushima Yuuji has already claimed you as his own.

And you’re okay with it.

He’s about as healthy for you as the Monster is-- which is to say, not at all.

In your next couple months of dating him, this becomes apparent. He takes you to the edge of the woods at twilight and lights your first cigarette, laughing as you take a draw and end up coughing. Plucking it from your fingers, he holds the cig high as smoke curls into the hazy sky and eventually melds with the faintly orange cumuli. “Guess it’ll take a little practice before you can smoke with the big dogs, huh?”

You flush and snatch it back, determined to prove your aptitude for defiance. By the end of the night, you can blow smoke rings-- he applauds, and for some odd reason your heart swells at his lazy grin.

(The next kiss tastes like tobacco and novelty.)

He shows you each of his tattoos, some of which peek out from underneath his clothes, some of which aren’t exactly visible to the onlooker’s eye. There’s a tendril of ivy climbing down his forearm, a flock of wild cranes taking flight from his left shoulder. A dark silhouette is on his chest, kneeling low to who knows what. You trace the image of an unlit candle on the back of his neck, asking what it means-- for a millisecond, his mouth tightens into an expressionless line, but then he laughs. “Why, you want one too? Let’s go to the parlor then.”

When you decline, he takes a permanent marker from his bedside table and prints a small label on your inner wrist. ‘Mine’ it says, accompanied by an oddly appropriate smiley face. “Then this will have to do.”

(This kiss tastes like ink and enigma.)

He brings you to a decrepit manor on the outskirts of town-- legend has it a young, newly wealthy couple purchased it twenty years ago, unaware its foundations rested on a centuries old cemetery. The spiteful spirits drove them to the brink of madness. The sort of madness that could only be alleviated by the resounding finality of death.

“They were found hanging from their bedsheets in the west wing,” Yuuji whispers to you, his breath tickling your ear. An unwanted tremor runs from your head to your high-tops. You don’t believe in ghosts, so it must be because you’re cold. (At least, that’s what you tell yourself.) “I want that kind of love.”

You turn, surprised to see his expression remains entirely serious. “The kind where you die for one another?”

“The kind where you die with one another,” he corrects, wistfully gazing into the dingy bay windows protruding from the manor’s anterior.

You remain silent.

“Life is just an accumulation of bad decisions, and love is just an accumulation of bad decisions you make with another person,” he muses, still peering at the grandeur of the lonely estate. He turns to you, a dangerous glint in his eye. “Wanna make a bad decision with me?”

The next hour is spent in the modest company of Yuuji, a couple of baseball bats, and the empty halls of a long dead house. There’s no one to witness the two of you shattering each dusty antique vase save for the portraits on the wall. Soon, their frames, too, receive a violent visit from a vindictive bat, usually accompanied by Yuuji’s unadulterated glee and a resounding whoop.

You’re not a fan of destruction. Especially not the destruction of rare, precious items reminiscent of a life bygone. Yet, it’s exhilarating to indulge in it, to swing your bat with a meaningless vengeance and watch as whatever priceless heirloom that evoked your baseless wrath fractures into pieces. You demolish a set of fine china found in the dining room cabinet and Yuuji gathers you into his arms, kissing you fiercely (it tastes like some sort of perverse, seductive joy, rosewater mixed with ashes). He chuckles into your mouth when you push your tongue into his, retribution for your first kiss many weeks ago. It’s deliciously gratifying.

If Yuuji is right, and love is just a mosaic of bad decisions and desire-- maybe you’re okay with that. Maybe this is all I really need, you think, watching Yuuji from the corner of your eye on the drive home. Yellow street lights cast irregular shadows on his angular features, lending him an otherworldly sort of beauty.

“What is it?” he asks, without taking his eyes off the road. One of his hands inches up your inner thigh, giving it a quick squeeze before retreating to the responsibility of the steering wheel.

You hesitate, just for a second. An unseen force constricts around your throat; you banish it with a hard swallow. “I love you.”

One second passes. Then two.

He says nothing the rest of the ride home, and you sit in mortified silence, watching traffic blur by with glassy eyes. You must’ve misread this whole thing. You’re just a fling Yuuji plans on discarding whenever he grows tired… your mouth goes dry with regret.

When you pull up in front of your house, he walks you to your front door. You can hardly stand to look him in the eye.

“Well, thanks for today,” you say, examining your shoelaces with false interest. “I had a lot of--”

“I love you, too.”

Startled, you look up. “I- what?”

“I said,” he says, stepping close, putting a hand beneath your chin to tilt it upwards. Your body is eclipsed by his larger one, and you’re overwhelmed with the sudden urge to hide from his penetrating gaze. “I love you, too.”

A beat of silence.

“Oh,” you breathe, and, suddenly, his lips are on yours, kissing you fervently— but this time, it’s chaste, it’s… loving (and it tastes like honeyed laughter). Only for a second though.

Then his hands are on your waist, fingers gripping hard enough to leave bruises; he’s aflame with a hotblooded passion-- your body is his Holy Grail and your mouth is its rim. He leads you into the hallway, fumbling to close the door behind him. You gasp when he pushes you up against the wall and harshly sucks at the sensitive skin beneath your jaw, your nails digging into his back through the thin fabric of his t-shirt.

“I love you,” he mumbles, painting your neck with a line of ardent kisses, trailing from right below your ear to right above your collarbone. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

There’s something a little too tender in the way he caresses your face the next morning to wake you after he’s slipped his clothes back on, in the way he smiles softly at your bleary eyed confusion, in the way he holds you in his embrace a fraction of a second longer than you hold him in yours before saying goodbye.

Terushima Yuuji may play the part of a reckless delinquent, but he’s not your average troublemaker. There’s something inscrutable behind his gaze, even as he sprays obscene graffiti on stop signs and shoplifts alcohol from the neighborhood drugstore, a walking cliche of hoodlum culture.

There’s something a little too careful about the boy who claims to be careless.

Yuuji is still fun, of course. He takes immense pride in being fun. He invites you to one of his friends’ gigs, some sort of grunge-esque affair with a heavily pulsating bass line and a preponderance of cheap liquor in red plastic cups. The drummer winks at you during one of the songs-- later Yuuji slugs him in the jaw, taking a few hits in the process, and makes a show of kissing you sloppily while the poor drummer nurses his rapidly forming bruise with a pack of frozen peas. (The kiss, of course, tastes like blood and pride.)

He teaches you how to use a switchblade-- “Just in case,” he says, wrapping his hand around yours in an effort to show you the proper grip. In exactly what situation you’d be forced to use a switchblade remains unclear, but when you ask he just laughs and shrugs, spinning the knife in between his slender fingers. “You never know.”

(He tells you a story of a fist fight years ago and lifts his shirt to point out a pale, faded scar-- the other guy brought a knife concealed in his sleeve. You then agree it doesn’t hurt to be prepared.)

The two of you trespass on the regular, scaling fences and picking locks to dip your feet in private pools, to run barefoot on the soft grass of a golf course late at night, to explore taped off tunnels and underpasses.

All of it is fun, all of it depicts your relationship as something accidental, something reckless, the convergence of two beings as coincidental as the convergence of the two cells that provoked the Big Bang.

But your intimate moments, the faintest imprints in between the lines, tell a different story. One onlookers don’t see.

They don’t see how Yuuji places a hand on the small of your back to guide you over a crosswalk, or how he pours a coffee and carefully blows on it before bringing it to you. They don’t see how he laughs when you laugh and smiles when you smile.

They don’t hear what he whispers to you under the sheets-- sweet nothings that would make Cupid himself blush-- as he touches you slowly, purposefully, following your curves deliberately as a sculptor molding clay.

They don’t feel his kisses, delicately placed on your lips, your neck, your stomach and thighs. They don’t feel his eyelashes fluttering on your cheek as he allows himself to rest with you in his most vulnerable state.

It’s during these moments that deep secrets are so shyly exchanged in the sleepy haze of late nights and early mornings. He bares his soul to you in all its imperfection (you suspect you are the only one to have ever seen it in this state). He shatters himself bit by bit like the vases you splintered so long ago, offering you the fragments so you can gradually piece together the entire portrait.

“You know how I told you my dad taught me how to fight?” he asks one of these times. Your head is in his lap as he strokes your hair ever-so-lightly. You nod, looking up into those sweet brown eyes-- they look sad today. “That’s only half true. He didn’t teach me, but I had to learn because of him.”

You take his hand and brush your lips over his knuckles, humming softly, and he takes this small act of comfort and stores it away like he always does.

I’m sorry.

“I’m scared of trying to be someone different than I am now, but I want to be. I wish I could be.”

You can.

“I’m sorry for getting you into so much trouble these days.”

Don’t be.

“I think we should run away, just you and me. We could make it, you know.”

I know.

Of course, all good things come to an end. You know that.

You just aren’t anticipating something so good to end so soon-- as suddenly as Terushima Yuuji becomes yours, he disappears.

One morning, he’s sleeping in the bed next to you, and the next he’s gone without a trace. Literally. He leaves behind no extra t-shirts, no stray sock or phone charger, no note. You pad down the hall, ducking your head into each room.

“Yuuji?” you call. “Is this some sort of joke?”

It’s not.

You call his phone and reach his voicemail. Hey, this is Terushima. Not available right now, probably busy doing somethin’ stupid or taking a piss. Leave a message if you want.

The sound of his voice grows more and more painful to hear over the next six months. At first, you call every day, then every week, then every month. At month six, you’ve stopped calling at all. If he wanted to answer, he would. You don’t even know why you’ve kept it up so long when he obviously left for a reason.

So, you pick up the pieces of your broken heart and cobble them together again. It’s not a graceful recovery, but it’s a recovery, and that’s what matters. The gaping hole he left is gradually filled by your family, your friends-- you don’t go on a single date, but that’s okay. (You’re just not ready. You tell yourself that you will be, someday.)

Soon, you’re whole again. As you discover, there are ways to find yourself other than falling dangerously in love with a dangerous boy.

You run into him one day, eight or so months after his disappearance. You’re filling your car at a gas station, and at the park across the street, he’s sitting next to a girl you don’t recognize. She laughs at all his jokes and sips a can of Monster he offers her. As if he can feel your stare, Yuuji glances over and catches your eye. He jogs across the street, dodging traffic, and you two exchange tentative pleasantries before the conversation comes to an uneasy rest on the taboo-- why he left.

It wasn’t because of you, it turns out. At least, not really. You were just the catalyst.

“I was the problem,” Yuuji says, laughing, though the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “You remember how I once told you I thought love was making your bad decisions with someone by your side?”

You nod, and the wound has scabbed over enough for you to remember it lightly, with a slight curve of the lips.

“You showed me that wasn’t true.” He tugs on the collar of his t-shirt absentmindedly, not quite meeting your gaze. “I started wanting to make good decisions instead. And that just wasn’t me. Love isn’t for me.”

“It could’ve been,” you say simply. He stares at you, momentarily unable to form a response. Then he laughs it off, a sound you used to adore that now sounds harsh and grating.

“Maybe someday,” he says, but his expression tells you otherwise. It tells you how scared he is of ever being that person.

The thing about love is that it gives you something to lose. It gives you a reason to make good decisions. It gives you something to fear for.

As he turns to leave, Yuuji freezes in his tracks. He throws a look over his shoulder. “Just for the record-- it hurt. Leaving. I did love you.”

You smile. It’s a genuine smile, but it’s sad, too. “I know.”

And the thing about fear is that some people can’t bear it well enough to let themselves love someone.

You watch his retreating back for a brief moment before climbing into your car. It’s not until you’re halfway home that you realize you’re crying. Tears roll down your cheeks into your lap, staining your jeans.

You hope he comes to love that new girl, the one he’s sharing a Monster with. You hope she loves him back with all her heart. You hope she spends hours and hours picking through his pieces and reassembling him from the bottom up. You hope she comes to find that his kisses taste like tobacco and novelty, like ink and enigma, like rosewater and ashes and joy. You hope that, to her, those kisses never taste like regret.

You hope that this time, he’s scared. But not so scared he can’t let himself stay.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #hq terushima #terushima #terushima yuuji #terushima x reader #terushima yuuji x reader

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rhysismydaddy · 3 years ago

Text

Prisoner's Game Pt. 3 (Rowaelin)

~Aelin~

There was something decidedly pleasant about sneaking out of prison.

It was the thrill, she supposed.

She'd always been a bit of an adrenaline junky, and there was nothing that matched up to the excitement of breaking out of a maximum security prison with no one being the wiser.

Aelin ran through the tunnel, her steps sure and soundless, a smile blooming on her face. What she was doing shouldn't give her such joy, but along with being a thrill seeker, she'd always been just a little bit vindictive.

Or maybe a lot.

The map of the tunnels was still crystal clear after all this time, and she had it memorized down to the number of steps it took to get to the right turn.

It was a three hour run. Two underground, then one through the city out into the suburbs.

While the first two hours were definitely not fun, it was the last hour that was tricky.

Avoiding cameras, not drawing any unwanted attention, dressing so no one could see her face without looking too much like the criminal she was.

It was also more exhausting.

It was an hour of sprinting across rooftops, sprinting through town, then sprinting some more.

It was a little funny to her that the journey to where she needed to go was more difficult than actually breaking into the building.

She had a set of scrubs stored in a nearby lockbox, along with a wig and a few prosthetics to make her look more like Ansel, one of the nurses working the night shift.

The security guard, Shelly, was prone to reading romance novels during her shift and never questioned why she occasionally thought she saw two of the same person wandering around.

It was no different tonight.

Once she had everything in place, Aelin strode confidently through the halls, grabbing charts and nodding like she knew what the hell she was looking at.

No one stopped her, no one questioned her.

When she got to the room and chart she wanted, she slipped inside soundlessly and crept up to the bed.

Despite the ever-present urge to hurry things along, she stuck to her plan and kept the dose the same.

The person on the bed never woke up, never noticed her slip an extra drug into the IV bag hanging on the wall.

Silent, efficient, traceless.

Just like she'd been taught.

Leaving was even easier than entering.

She waited until real-Ansel had been out of the guard's sight for a while, then walked out the back door of the facility like she hadn't just committed a felony.

One of the few crimes she actually deserved to be in prison for, ironically.

Then she ran back, hiding in the traffic camera's blind spots and ditching the wig along the way.

It was a little stupid and drawn out to do it this way, not to mention unbelievably cruel, but Aelin had always had a flair for the dramatic.

Plus, like she said: exciting.

~Rowan~

Doubt is a strange emotion.

It starts small, so small you hardly even realize it's there.

And then, over time, it grows and grows like a fungus, eventually becoming something that you think about all the time. Something that kills you.

Rowan didn't believe in doubt.

His problem had never been with not believing in himself, it'd always been with the opposite affliction: over-conviction.

He believed things so fully, so deeply, it was hard to see it any other way.

It was what made him such a good lawyer. As the top public prosecutor in the city, he had a reputation for being impossible to win against.

He convinced himself of the defendant's guilt so completely, the jury had almost no option but to believe him.

He hadn't always been that way, he didn't think. Argumentative and stubborn, sure. His mother could attest to that. But never so unflinchingly self-assured. So alright with deceiving himself if need be.

If he had to guess, he'd say it'd started two months after the day of Aelin's trial.

He hadn't been lying to her four days ago; every word had been the truth. He'd worked his ass off all those years ago, trying to find something that would help him either clear her name or at least fucking sleep at night.

He'd given himself a timeline, deciding that if he couldn't find a single lead in two months, there probably wasn't one. Two months, and then he'd let it go.

He didn't regret stopping his hunt--he'd seen what an obsession could do to someone.

And when that day had come, he'd thought he was ready. He'd exhausted himself working both her case and the ones he was assigned, burning the candle at both ends and sleeping in the office more nights than his own bed.

There'd been nothing to be found. The evidence, the testimonies, the medical examiner's reports... they'd all pointed to Aelin.

So eventually he'd forced himself to stop looking.

But the sight of her swinging between the two court police officers, fighting for just one more second with him with a desperation he'd never seen from her... he hadn't known how he could just forget something like that.

The image followed him, haunted him. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw hers. Lined with tears and disbelief and so much hurt he felt like invisible hands were wrapped around his neck.

So he'd hardened himself against it.

He'd repeated the pieces of evidence against her, told himself she was guilty until the words were easy to say, forced himself to visualize the crime scenes of her victims whenever he thought of her.

Piece by piece, he'd swapped out the months of positive memories they had with stone cold facts.

And it had worked.

After a month, he could sleep again. After a year, he hardly thought of her and when he did, it was with disgust.

Yet now, over eight years later, he found himself with just the slightest amount of doubt again.

It was the same nagging, incessant feeling he hadn't been able to shake eight years ago. Back for round two, apparently.

At first, he'd played it off as nerves from their conversation. She'd worked him up so much he'd admitted how much he'd once loved her and said things he shouldn't have.

His body was reacting to the sadness in her eyes, the surprise that had bloomed when he'd told her he'd fought for her. It was emotion, nothing based in logic, that made him want to start looking again.

At least that's what he told himself.

But four days later, he found himself on the couch--he really did need to give up and just buy a new bed--staring at the ceiling, trying to sleep and not being able to.

Because... well because what if she was telling the truth?

Why else would she have told him that story?

What had he missed during all those late nights spent hunched over her folder?

The questions grew and grew, until that once-little shard of doubt started to slowly drive him mad.

The uncertainty, no matter how small it had begun, had grown to be almost irritatingly large and unavoidable.

He couldn't stop thinking about what she'd said. The breadcrumbs that apparently only he could find.

What did that mean?

And why couldn't he just let it go?

"Fuck!" he yelled, throwing his blanket off and storming to the closet.

Like a love-struck idiot, he'd kept a box full of the stuff she'd left at his apartment during their relationship. The stuff that wasn't evidence, at least.

If it was something only he could find like she'd said, it was probably something only he had access to.

He dropped the box on his kitchen table and opened the lid.

Then cursed when the first thing he saw was a pair of red lace underwear. That was the last thing he needed to be thinking about and remembering.

Especially when he'd barely been able to resist the temptation to kiss her in that interrogation room.

Something about the way she'd looked at him after he'd told her he'd fought for her all those years ago had rattled the grip he had on his control hard.

She'd seemed so... sad. So hopeless. It had brought out the urge to comfort her in whatever way he could.

Hearing about her childhood and how she'd been raised by Arobynn Hamel hadn't made it any better. Truthfully, it'd broken something inside of him.

She'd always been so positive around him--a ray of light he'd felt was put on this earth just for him.

And all the while, she'd been forced to live with and work for one of the most notorious crime syndicate members of all time.

He'd always known she hadn't had a good childhood, but there was a difference between foster care hell and an actual house of horrors. Rowan couldn't even imagine the things she'd seen. Been forced to see, to do.

She made it out, he reminded himself, taking a deep breath.

But had she?

If what she'd told him was true, she'd killed those people because she'd been forced to.

It hadn't been her choice.

But there was something else about her, something he couldn't stop thinking about.

The secret she'd eluded to, the one that apparently only he had the key to solving.

A secret she'd promised would explain everything.

He tossed the underwear on the table, vowing to ignore them.

Then threw them in the trash a minute later when that became impossible.

You're such an asshole, he told himself, shaking his head. It's been eight years.

Even if that part of their relationship was most definitely memorable.

"Jesus," he laughed, running a hand over his face. Why was he even thinking about that?

Maybe it was the look in her eyes four days ago, or maybe it was simply that Aelin had been an important part of his life. He'd never forget the connection they'd had. Maybe it would always be a part of him.

But that was ridiculous, because he'd been connected to plenty of women since. Plenty of gorgeous brunettes and redheads.

For some reason, he hadn't been able to date a blonde, but that didn't mean anything.

He was over her.

Obviously.

Forcing his thoughts away from Aelin, he grabbed the next thing in the box.

Her address book. Maybe she'd left a note in there?

He flipped it open, scrolling through blank page after blank page. Her cousin's address and phone number were there--both of which he confirmed with police records--but other than that, it was blank.

The next thing he found made the ache in his chest expand to a soul-sucking hole.

It was a travel brochure for Aruba.

The edges were frayed from how much she'd flipped through it, and notes in her handwriting were scribbled throughout the pages.

He remembered this, all right.

He'd woken up one morning, a morning that seemed like a lifetime ago, to find her laying on top of him, leafing through the travel pamphlet with a huge grin on her face.

"We're going to Aruba," she'd whispered in lieu of a greeting, leaning down to press her lips to his.

"Why?" he'd asked back between kisses.

"Because it's the perfect place to hide from your real life," had been her laughed response.

She'd planned a trip for them at Christmas. Their very first trip together.

Every time they saw each other, she'd shown him a new page or told him about a new activity she wanted to do.

In general, she was a happy, excited person, but he'd never seen her so thrilled over anything like she was that trip.

He'd hidden it better, trying to play it cool, but he'd been excited, too.

He'd pictured her on the beach, running in the sand and smiling and laughing and drinking from a coconut. He'd imagined sneaking to the beach one night and making love to her in the ocean.

He'd imagined getting down on one knee and asking her to be his travel partner for life.

She'd been arrested two weeks before they were supposed to leave.

He tossed the little magazine back into the box, shaking his head to clear it of the memories and long-lost dreams.

The only thing left in the worn box was books.

Aelin had volunteered at a publishing house, trying to get hired as a fiction editor, and she'd always had a book in her ridiculously heavy pocket book.

She'd given him a few of her favorites, claiming that if he ever wanted to know the "real her," he had to read them.

A statement that made a lot more sense now than it used to.

He grabbed the one on top and leafed through it, going through the pages and scanning.

When that didn't yield anything, he flipped to the back of the book and looked at the inscription she'd written him.

March 1

Rowan,

I know you're not a fan of fiction, let alone romantic, feminist fiction, but I hope you'll read this and fall in love with Elizabeth's character like I did.

Aelin

He turned the book over and looked at the front again, then flipped through it again, then went through the whole process again.

Why did he feel like something about this didn't add up? And why was this, of all things, what she'd left as a breadcrumb?

He didn't figure it out until he reread the inscription for the fifth time and realized the date she'd written.

March 1st.

It was wrong; she'd given him this book on his birthday in February. He remembered because he'd laughed about her giving a grown man a romance novel for his birthday.

Why had she put March 1st? And why did that date stand out in his mind?

Stomach dropping, he finally figured out why that date was so important. It was the date of the first murder.

Maddison Kliff, a state senator who controversially wanted to fund renewable energy in the upcoming year, had been murdered the morning of March 1st eight years ago.

Breadcrumb.

He grabbed the next book from the stack, Wuthering Heights, and flipped to the end.

Almost the exact same inscription, except the date was April 13th, and the inspiring character was Linton Heathcliff.

April 13th was the day another victim died.

Rowan's heart started pounding, so hard he thought he was going to either pass out or go into cardiac arrest.

What was the connection between these dates, characters, and victims? Rowan could feel it in his gut that this was what she'd been talking about. It had to be.

He flipped through the books again, looking for something else, but there was nothing there. Nothing was underlined or highlighted, and the books were all in brand-new condition, no pages were bookmarked.

"What are you trying to tell me, Aelin?" he whispered, rubbing at his temples.

He made a list of all the dates and characters, stared at it until he thought he'd go blind, and tried to think like her.

Except her mind was a complex puzzle he'd never quite solved, so that didn't give him anything besides a headache.

He looked in the box again, hoping to magically find another note or something that explained everything in simple, idiot-proof terms.

But all that was there was that damn Aruba magazine.

It's the perfect place to hide from your real life.

The words came rushing back to him, so suddenly and violently it was like his subconscious had been shouting it for a while.

Was that it?

Maybe the connection wasn't only between the dates and characters, but it also had something to do with Aruba.

Maybe that was where this secret, whatever it was, was hiding.

Knowing he was probably grasping at straws, Rowan grabbed his phone and called the one person who'd help him.

"What the hell do you want?"

"I need a favor, Gavriel."

He heard a heavy sigh. "Like a we've been friends for twenty years favor or like an I'm the Chief of Police favor?"

"The latter," Rowan answered.

"Dammit, Rowan, you're going to get me fired one day." That was what he said every time. There was a long pause, then, "What do you need?"

"Flight manifests from Rifthold to Aruba from ten different days eight years ago."

Gavriel caught on quickly. "This wouldn't happen to have anything to do with a former flame of yours, would it? One currently serving time for ten murders from eight years ago?"

"Of course not," he lied, knowing he was busted.

Another sigh. "You need to let this go, kid."

Rowan ran a hand over his face, knowing that wasn't possible. Not when, for the first time since he'd been assigned this God forbidden case, he had a lead.

"Can you help me or not?"

"I will, as long as you promise to drop it once whatever you're chasing ends up to be yet another dead end."

Knowing he didn't have another choice, Rowan agreed.

Gavriel told him he'd send them over, then said softly, "I know you loved her, Rowan, but it's time to move on."

It's not that easy, he thought, thinking once again of Aelin sitting in that tiny cell, skin pale and hair too long.

"Thanks for your help," he said instead, hanging up before the lecture could continue.

A few minutes later, he was printing out the passenger lists from all the Rifthold to Aruba flights on each of the ten dates.

Starting with August 1st, he went through, passenger by passenger, and looked for an Elizabeth.

There'd been three direct flights to Aruba that day, so by the time he found it, his eyes were so tired he almost missed it entirely.

But there was a name that stuck out, one that was straight out of his copy of Pride and Prejudice.

Seat 14C had been occupied by Elizabeth Darcy, and she'd flown directly from Rifthold to Aruba on August 1st.

Rowan's jaw damn near hit the floor.

His hands shook as he highlighted the name, writing the victim's name next to it to keep it straight in his head.

His mind whirled with possible explanations, but he didn't let himself think about anything except the next date.

With a sinking feeling in his gut, he went through the passenger list for April 13th.

And sure enough, Linton Heathcliff was on one of the flights. In the same damn seat.

"Holy fuck," he whispered, grabbing the next sheet of paper.

He went date by date, flight by flight, and by the time he'd located every character, he was sure of what he'd found. What she'd left for him.

It wasn't a breadcrumb, it was the whole goddamn loaf.

Rowan barely made it to the kitchen sink before his stomach emptied as an explanation of what had really happened eight years ago started to form in his mind.

He didn't have all the pieces, but the ones he did have made him literally sick to think about.

Her insistence on being innocent, her begging him to look again, telling him only he could find the clues... it all made sense.

The doubt he'd been struggling with for eight long years suddenly disappeared, replaced by a certainty so swift and thorough and all encompassing, it almost took his breath away.

She hadn't been lying.

She hadn't killed those ten people.

She couldn't have, because...

"They're still alive."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

dun dun duuuuun

part 4 out next Friday (sorry for the slow updates I'm in summer school)

@audreycressworth @whimsicallyreading @onceupona-chaos @lil-unoriginal-weirdo-273sole @surielandiareendgame @captain-swan-is-endgame @poisonous00 @vasudharaghavan @sailorsassley @endlessdaydream @swankii-art-teacher @beanco8 @stokingthemidnightflame @mis-lil-red @ladyfireheart-and-buzzard @sheharahu @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @jorjy-jo @court-of-dreams-and-ashes @perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @live-the-fangirl-life @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @loudphantomdragon @gracie-rosee @rowaelinismyotp @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2 @lovemollywho @inardour @tillyrubes10 @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @awesomelena555 @booksofthemoon @greerlunna @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan whitehorn #rowan x aelin #aelin galythinius #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass fandom

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the-hopeless-haze · 4 years ago

Text

I hope he’ll be a beautiful fool that takes my spot next to you

Pairing: Sonny Carisi/reader, past!Rafael Barba/reader

Warnings: lots of angst (I bring up Undiscovered Country.... soooo...) smut (it’s NSFW people lol)

Word Count: like 5k words? Idk it’s a long one folks but I deliver

Summary: Based on “exile” by Taylor Swift for @thatesqcrush ‘s Valentine’s Day Bingo! Basically the reader used to date Barba until she didn’t and ended up with Sonny. Rafael is less than pleased. This is a cliche pairing (for good reason! It’s so fun to write!) but I like to think I added a fun twist... Sonny is an absolute mess, Rafael is very jealous, reader is a tad bit vindictive. This can be read in conjunction with “Being Alive” but it’s really a detour and a very loose association... there are just references because it’s so hard for me to write for these characters outside of that lens since I’ve been writing it for so long. That being said this can absolutely be read by itself and this only works if Rafael and the reader didn’t progress as characters in BA anyway lol

Murderous rage doesn’t even begin to describe what Rafael feels right now.

Behind the anger, there’s a sadness, cold and hard as stone, but he won’t touch that. It’s so much easier to be angry at Sonny than deal with anything that has to do with you. And that’s fair, isn’t it, anyway? Sonny swooped in the second things turned sour between you and Rafael and didn’t even give the two of you a chance to patch things up.

Or you went to Sonny of your own accord.

Maybe that’s more likely, but that hovers too close to the ache in his chest and he doesn’t allow himself to dwell there. Instead, he lets his ire build up until it consumes him, shooting daggers at the two of you across the bullpen office.

The two of you had always been touchy-feely - you were partners after all, very close, but you’d trained Rafael to swallow his jealousy. Told him you didn’t see Sonny like that. And for the most part, he learned to believe you. So now, he has to wonder how much of that was a lie, how much he didn’t see between the two of you, because there’s no way in hell you’d allow Sonny to touch you like this if it weren’t precedented.

Yes, at work, no less, you and Sonny are sitting at your adjoined desks, but you moved your chair to squeeze as close to him as possible. His arm is slung across your shoulder, a relaxed grip, because he knows there’s nothing Rafael can say or do that would make you leave him. Your head is resting on Sonny’s vested shoulder, and you’re laughing at something he said, no doubt a stupid joke that only you would find the humor in.

Death would be more welcome, Rafael thinks, then curses himself for being overdramatic. Still, when was the last time Rafael had been able to make you laugh?

Olivia had warned him of this new arrangement, but nothing could prepare him for this. Didn’t Rafael matter at all to you?

You lean up to kiss Sonny and Rafael thinks he might puke. —- Maybe Sonny should feel more guilty for kissing your mouth like you’ve been his this whole time, but he doesn’t. Because now he knows without a doubt in his mind this is where you belonged. He can feel the weight of Rafael’s gaze across the room, but he doesn’t mind carrying it, shielding you from it.

He did feel awful the day you came to him, your touch freezing and clammy from the inclement weather that you traveled through to get to his apartment, and then you practically pounced on him, told him you wanted him - and what was Sonny to do? Say no? No, after asking you a million times if you were sure, he gave into a temptation he’d be lying if he said he never thought about before. Of course, Sonny always imagined being between you and Rafael - he loved both of you in different ways, and the two of you seemed like a package deal at the time his original fantasies started to occur - but if you alone were going to come onto him, he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to oblige.

Don’t sleep with your partner was probably the first unwritten rule in becoming a detective, but it’s not like Sonny was going to stay at the precinct, anyway. He’d take Rafael’s place in the courtroom, too.

Still, when you first came onto him, he did feel a twinge of guilt, like he was hurting Rafael and you at the same time, in different ways, but then you explained it all to Sonny. How you always felt insecure around Rafael, that you weren’t sure if he really loved you, that you weren’t sure if you really loved him, that both of you had so much pressure to make this work that it started to fall apart under the weight of all your expectations.

You didn’t have to wait for Sonny to say he loved you, and you didn’t have to doubt it, either. He said it for the first time that same night, and he said it so fervently that you pulled his body back into yours, moaning your own declaration of love back to him. Maybe it was too soon, but he’d spent over a year pining for you (and Barba) in secret, and... well... he wasn’t going to waste what would be his only shot with one of you. He wanted you to know you would be well-cared for in his arms.

If looks could kill, Sonny would be dead on the spot and he knows this. But he also knows that jealousy is a cross Rafael has no right to bear. He had his shot, and he blew it. He should’ve let you know what you meant to him instead of clouding everything in his anxieties, his anger, his burdens from his past he never could let go of. Whatever he did now was too little too late, and even if Sonny had feelings for the lawyer, you always came first, and those said feelings would now never be stated out loud unless he got enough liquor in him and he was feeling sentimental that day.

Sonny used to root for you and Rafael, but he was always an embittered cheerleader, standing on the sidelines wishing someone could love him the way he thought you two loved each other. Appearances meant nothing, though. Now that you’ve let him in, he knows what you had with Rafael was far from the heaven you deserved.

And Sonny is all too keen to give you what you deserved.

As you lean up to kiss him again, he stops you for a moment, smiles down at you in adoration, and you giggle, “What?”

“Nothing,” he grins. “You’re just so beautiful, doll. I love you.”

Rafael’s gaze strengthens in intensity, and you almost turn to look in his direction before Sonny kisses you firmly, a smirk playing against your lips. This has to be killing Rafael, and Sonny isn’t usually that vindictive, but it gave him some sort of sick satisfaction that he was hurting Rafael just like Rafael had hurt you. And, you know, show Rafael what he was missing.

——

Sonny’s kiss is so warm, so comforting, but it doesn’t stop the ice running through your veins - you know Rafael is here despite Sonny’s best efforts to distract you from him. And you meet his eyes across the room for the first time since the night the two of you fought with each other for what would be the last time, the night you found yourself in Sonny’s arms instead. Those eyes add insult to injury, because you still know Rafael, and even if he’s standing across the room you know what he’s feeling. There’s anger there, but deep down you know he’s crushed at having seen you move on so quickly, and with someone he suspected you might leave him for in the first place. And he’s trying to drag you down to his level, get you to sit here in his misery with him.

This could break you if you don’t steel yourself, so you squeeze Sonny’s hand for support.

Sonny’s in tune with your body language, having been your partner for so long, and he stands to full attention, asking you if you’re alright.

“I’m okay,” you tell him, staring down Rafael until he makes his way over to your desk. You swallow thickly. Rafael when he was angry was never pleasant.

“This is cute, hmm?” he says bitterly, nodding sharply at the two of you.

“I like to think so,” you reply coolly, smiling at him.

“Barba, I know you’re waiting for Sarge, but can you please go wait somewhere else? She’ll be out any minute and you’re bothering (y/n),” Sonny asks, forever trying to be the peacemaker.

“She can handle herself,” Rafael says, chuckling sardonically, rolling up his sleeves nonchalantly. “Clearly. She doesn’t need you to fight her battles. But if you’d like to...”

“Mm, please, Rafael, like you’d get your knuckles bloody for me?” you snap. “Grow up. Everybody moved on. It’s time you do too.”

Rafael’s visibly taken aback by your verbal assault but he only lets it faze him momentarily. “Right. Moved on. Only took you five whole minutes to pack us up and leave me with it and you’re out here spreading your legs for someone else,” Rafael hisses, and you can see the moment when he realizes he went too far, the moment the wrath in his green eyes fades into regret.

“Get out,” Sonny says firmly, raising his voice enough to turn Amanda’s and Nick’s heads. “Get the fuck out. I don’t care how hurt you are, get out. You don’t talk to women like that. I’m honestly... I’m disgusted.”

“I... I am sorry—“ Rafael fumbles.

“A bit too late for that. I’m not your problem anymore, Rafael, so who am I offending now?” You ask. You weren’t upset by his statement - you did move fast with Sonny, faster than even you were immediately comfortable with, and you know how it must look to Rafael, how it must feed the flame of his absolute deepest and darkest insecurities.

Rafael glances around the room and realizes he’s caused a scene. Without a word, he leaves out the side door, forgetting his meeting with Olivia. He’s seen this film before, and the ending? It’s not worth sticking around for.

—-

Sonny could spend hours with his face between your legs, and he did. It was almost like the man never stopped talking because he wasn’t nose-deep in pussy - but you kind of chuckled at that thought because he wasn’t quiet even then. He’s always moaning, making obscene sucking sounds on your clit, talking to you, sending delicious vibrations straight to your core.

You come again, moaning and tugging at his hair, and Sonny adds to his total, grinning up at you, his face sinfully wet with your juices running down his chin. “That’s two down. Think you can give me one more before I fuck you?”

“Sonny, fuck,” you whine breathlessly as he runs his tongue over your now swollen and overstimulated clit. “I need a break.”

You love it. You’ve never had anyone this enthusiastic about pleasing you like this before, and you’ve never exactly been a pillow princess either, but Sonny protested if you even moved a muscle when he was going down on you, instead he’d chuckle and tell you to save your energy for when you ride him later. Not that he needed to be in you at all - you swear he could get off just eating you out. You never would’ve pegged giving oral as Sonny’s biggest kink, but you certainly weren’t complaining.

Sonny laughs heartily, crawling up the length of your body to kiss you deeply, the taste of you branded onto his lips and tongue. You moan as he rolls his hips against yours, the cloth from his boxers creating a tantalizing friction and you buck up against him on instinct.

“Ah-ah,” he tsks, moving off you to lay beside you. “I thought you needed a break, doll.”

You sigh, nodding, trying to catch your breath, but how could you, when he was still on the side of you, whispering dirty things in your ear? God, he really did never shut up.

“He ever fuck you like this?” Sonny asks, a devilish glint in his eye. For a second you think he’d take it back, apologize for asking such an intrusive question, but he doesn’t, and you know it’s because he’s just gone down on you for half an hour already and he’s got enough testosterone running through his veins he could kill anyone who glanced at you. Of course he was in competition with Barba, especially when he was this riled up.

“No,” you murmur, and you’re not lying. Sex with Barba was great, obviously, he’s very attractive and he knows what he’s doing. Rafael was a damn tease, but Sonny? Sonny was so much of a sap he couldn’t bear to hold anything back, couldn’t bear to see your lip tremble in want for even a second. And no one had time to fuck the way Sonny wanted to, drawing everything out and making you come so many times with his lips and tongue before he’d finally enter you. It’d always take a few hours, so this was usually saved for Monday mornings when the two of you didn’t go in until 3, or Friday nights when both of you were too wired to sleep anyway. Sure, there were days you were pressed for time and he needed to have you so more often than not he’d settle for making you come quickly on his face before pounding into you, but...

Rafael was a good, thorough lover, and god, you’d probably miss his hands for a long time to come, but Sonny’s tongue was such a good replacement.

“You just saying that, doll?” Sonny asks gruffly.

“No, honey, of course not,” you giggle. “No one’s as generous as you.”

“Generous? Huh. That’s a good one,” he laughs, and it seems like that comment brought out the underlying sap in him. His clear blue eyes soften and he smiles at you. “Nah, doll, I just love you so much, and making you feel good? What better way to show it, you know?”

This was a complete mess, you realized that, but you were blissfully happy in spite of it. How could you not be? It’d been an amazing three months. On nights the two of you didn’t work, you were treated to home-cooked dinners, bottles of wine, heated makeout sessions that always led to something more. If you worked, you’d take long showers together, massaging the knots out of each other’s muscles until you were both too dreary-eyed to stand.

Sonny was clingy, sure. You knew he would be, of course, and you weren’t used to that - sometimes you questioned if Rafael even wanted you in the same room - and it’s with a sudden realization that you come to terms with the fact that none of your relationships worked out because you needed that constant reassurance that Rafael and so many of your exes were reluctant to give.

It’s so easy to paint Rafael as a villain now that it was all over, but he wasn’t. You truly, truly loved him, even if he never took the time to learn your love language or make you dinner or marathon-fuck you. He showed his affection for you in other ways, but they weren’t as overt and it always left you questioning what he really wanted from you.

And anyway, it wasn’t enough to counteract the wrongs he’d done to you. Always making snide comments about how close you were to Sonny, to Amanda, to Nick, even... and it was in those moments you wish he didn’t love you so much, that he’d let you breathe instead of keeping such a constricting hold on you. You knew what he was scared of, he’d been cheated on before... but you hadn’t done anything.

He tried so hard to snare you down without taking into consideration that you already were his. Or, at least you had been.

When he got down on one knee you knew it was over. For him to be that insensitive, after you’d just gone through an accident and were barely coming back to life through damn near mandatory therapy and rehab... you couldn’t take it anymore. Didn’t he see the signs? You gave him so many, but he just never learned to read your mind after all that time.

And you didn’t want to be his, at least not in that regard. He wasn’t asking you for the right reasons. He was making up for lost time.

You never told Sonny that Rafael asked you to marry him, because that would wreck him and make you seem vindictive, but you have a feeling that Sonny knew anyway. Maybe Rafael mentioned it in passing. It doesn’t matter. You’d never be his wife now.

You didn’t intend this to be a long term thing with Sonny, but now you were used to him being in every facet of your life, and you supposed you did love him underneath everything. It was always Sonny who was there on those cold nights equipped with hot chocolate and cannolis, always him making you laugh when you were miserable about a spat you’d gotten in with Rafael, always him damn near reading your mind to give you what you needed.

Maybe it wouldn’t last. Maybe the two of you would go down in flames, too. Maybe he’s only being this amazing because he’s wanted you this long and he wants to show you what you’ve missed the time you wasted with Rafael, and it’ll fade once you’ve stuck around.

But you don’t think so, because you know he’s always loved you like this. The only things that have changed since you let him in is that he fucks you now and he’s practically moved into your apartment. He’s never quite kept his crush for you under wraps. On the off chance this is just a honeymoon phase... you’d still take it. It was bliss for now, and that’s what mattered.

“You ready for round three, doll?” Sonny asks. “Or you wanna sit there and daydream about Barba?”

“W-what?” you stutter, looking at him dumbfounded. “I wasn’t—“

“Don’t play dumb. I know you, (y/n).”

“Are you mad?” You ask, making your voice small.

“No. It’s only natural, right? I probably shouldn’t have brought him up in the first place,” he says, shrugging. “Still...”

“Don’t, Sonny,” you protest. “You’re not his understudy. I love you—“

“I know. That’s not why I’m saying that,” he says, kissing you gently. ——

Sonny would never tell you why he was saying that; why he brought up Barba in the first place. This was a fucked up mess, Sonny knows that, but he can’t help imagining you fucking him like Rafael used to fuck you. You and Rafael both have such dominant personalities, and it makes sense why you’d always be at each other’s throats in hindsight.

One of you had to be more dominant, though, and Sonny gets the sense that more often than not Rafael won your battles. But Sonny won’t even put up a fight against you, and for a woman who was so used to losing... maybe Sonny was doing you more of a favor than he realized. You’re an absolute tease, brutal, really... Sonny doesn’t know where you get the sadism because you’re so kind-hearted outside of the bedroom... but he’s never quite had orgasms like the ones you draw out of him either, so he’s not exactly complaining.

Okay, maybe he whines a little when you don’t let him come.

Or a lot. Whatever.

It’s so worth it, for both of you, even if Sonny can barely take the heat sometimes.

Sonny imagines Rafael doing that to you, too, getting you riled up and soaking wet just to say you can’t come until he said. Or teasing you while you were working (he’d seen that happen a couple of times) just to leave the precinct and leave you rubbing your thighs together in a vain attempt to relieve the ache between them.

Sonny could just never do that to you, lord knows. For one, he can’t stand to see you ache for him while he’s right there, while he can just give you what you need from him. For him he takes pride in the number of orgasms he can draw from you, not how explosive or mind-numbing they can be (although he likes to think he gives both in quantity and quality). Sex is all about giving to Sonny. It always has been. Besides, seeing you fall apart on his tongue? It drives him insane. Maybe most men don’t get as enthusiastic about going down on their girlfriends, but Sonny truly doesn’t think he could ever live without it.

Still... didn’t you take a little bit of your partner with you, even if it was over? In a way, Sonny realizes, he does have both you and Rafael now. Just like he always wanted. Because when you maneuver him where you want him, get bossy in bed, that’s Barba talking. When you drag his bottom lip between your teeth, fiery lust in your eyes, he can just imagine Rafael doing the same to you, you looking up at him with hooded eyes.

His favorite’s got to be when you speak to him in Spanish, whisper “te amo” to him under your breath, because that’s purely Rafael’s influence and nothing else.

Still, you’re mostly you- and that’s fine. Sonny always loved you more, anyway, he’s always been closer to you, always been head over heels for you the second he stepped foot in the precinct and Liv told him you were his new partner.

Sonny didn’t see a point in hiding your relationship from the squad. You were wary at first - everyone knew you just broke up with Barba, and making this public so soon would be a source of gossip. But he convinced you... through questionable means (make a girl come enough times and she’ll do anything you ask). At the end of the day, he doesn’t think anyone truly cared, even if Amanda made a comment; “Guess she’s a hot commodity around here. When’s my turn to date her?”

“I’m never letting her go now that I’ve got her,” Sonny had replied with a grin. “You missed your shot.”

“I was kidding,” she chuckled. “Good for you, though. You’ve been in love with her for a long time, puppy dog eyes and everything.”

Sonny just beamed back at her, but he wonders how obvious he truly was in his affection for you before the two of you started going out. Was it enough to make Barba jealous? Possibly. Maybe that’s why Barba was being so absolutely vile and hostile toward Sonny now, refusing to let him sit in on his closing argument rehearsals and making sure to send more snide remarks his way whenever possible. Sure, Sonny expected that, but if only Rafael knew Sonny loved him too.... Maybe the wound wouldn’t sting as badly as it did. There wasn’t a chance in hell Sonny would say anything now, especially with the way he talked to you the other day (you’d think a lawyer who handles mostly sex crimes would refrain from slut-shaming his ex-girlfriend, but, apparently his anger truly did get the best of him). Still, he’d always love Rafael just like you always would.

Sonny knew there was always a chance that he was just a rebound, that you’d leave him to go back to Rafael, but time goes on and you stay with him and Rafael stays bitter, barely looking at the two of you. Years pass and Sonny tries to extend an olive branch every couple of months, but Rafael would rather eat poison, it seems.

Fair enough. You couldn't say Sonny never tried. ----

Rafael spent a few years feeling like an exile every time he stepped foot into the precinct - and it wasn’t fair in the least. He was A.D.A. before you even got your badge. If anything, you should be feeling like the odd one out now that the two of you were over. This was his city.

But you’re not his homeland anymore. You haven’t been, not for a long time.

It was a new kind of torture every day, watching you and Sonny get closer, closer, closer… Rafael kept searching for reasons to leave New York City that wouldn’t have to do with you.

And then he found one.

Rafael’s standing outside the courthouse, where he just got acquitted for infanticide. It’s bitterly cold, he’s wearing his tan coat that you’d rarely see him out of this time of year. And you come up to talk to him.

It was rare that you did that, anyway, you did your best job to ignore him unless you absolutely needed to speak with him. But now he gets the feeling it’s time for confessions, words you always wanted to say to him all these years now that he was leaving out the side door of your life for good.

It’s a strange kind of sickness, watching you move on more and more, seeing your stomach swollen with Sonny’s child, your finger gleaming with Sonny’s ring, your last name changing to Carisi.

“You’re really leaving?” you ask, pulling your coat across your belly - it wouldn’t stay closed with the buttons anymore. You shiver, sip at your coffee.

“I can’t exactly stay now, can I?” he asks brusquely. “You really shouldn’t be drinking coffee while you’re pregnant.”

You snicker. “It’s not your baby, is it, Barba? Good thing, too. Wouldn’t want her to come out wrong. You might kill her.”

“Oh, fuck off. I don’t need this to be rehashed,” he snaps harshly, bitter tears leaving his eyes. “Did you have anything else to say?”

“It’s decaf coffee, anyway,” you mutter. “I really thought you’d have left a long time ago.”

“Why, because of you?” he asks, laughing bitterly. “Are you really that arrogant?”

“You still look at me like you want to kill me half the time.”

“Just… I still don’t understand what went wrong.”

“If you don’t know by now… I really don’t know what to tell you, Rafael. I gave so many signs. And Sonny… he treats me well. He gives me things you were never ready for, and I… The way things happened… they truly were for the best.”

“For who?” Rafael asks, fighting against his body’s overwhelming desire to break down and sob. Hadn’t he learned by now, though, that there was no amount of crying he could do for you? Still, when you left him, everything went to hell. He tried to pour himself into his work, and this… watching you get and stay happy was salt in the wound.

“I think leaving will be good for you,” you say, ignoring him. “You can move on. Meet someone new. Get a new job. New start. You know?”

“I think I’m too old for new starts,” he scoffs, shaking his head.

“Won’t know unless you try, hm?” you ask, nudging him in the side. “You’ll make it. You always have.”

“Not with you,” he murmurs.

“No. But you didn’t need me. You don’t need anyone.”

“Is that what you tell yourself, to make yourself feel better for what you did to me?” Rafael asks, his voice breaking a little. He was always so desperate not to show vulnerability, especially not around you… but what did it matter now?

“Rafael… we always walked a very thin line. You have to know that we weren’t going to stay together even if we tried to. And why should I have to be miserable just because you are?”

He stays silent because you have a point and he’ll be damned if he lets you know that.

“Sonny loves you, you know,” you say abruptly, and Rafael quirks up an eyebrow. You laugh. “Yeah. He’s very testy about it, but I’ve been with him long enough. I know he does. You should’ve jumped on him before I had the chance. He would’ve taken you. He would’ve taken both of us, but… you and I couldn’t share.”

“You can have him,” Rafael says, rolling his eyes. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“It’s just… you didn’t have to spend all these years hating us, feeling like a foreigner in your own city. We would’ve taken you back. You just didn’t want us.”

“I didn’t want the Carisi package deal. I wanted you. I dated you, not him. I loved you, not him.”

“First of all… I meant as friends. But also… Like you’ve never thought about it,” you tease, grinning at him.

Rafael rolls his eyes. “See, this is why we had problems. That’s not funny. Wandering eyes… that’s a problem.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” you say, shrugging. “Sonny’s surprisingly liberal. But that’s great that you were finally able to admit that your jealousy made me feel like I couldn’t breathe.”

“I’d argue my jealousy was warranted. I find it hard to believe that you didn’t fuck Sonny before you broke up with me,” Rafael scoffs.

“I didn’t!” you protest. “I’m not having this argument with you, because at this point, it doesn’t matter if I did or not, but I was nothing but faithful to you, Rafael.”

“Then how could you just move so fast?"

“It’s not like I just picked him up off the street. We’d been friends before.”

“Right. Friends.”

“Yeah. Friends,” you repeat sarcastically. “You see why we didn’t work out now?”

“Guess so.”

“You know, I do wish the best for you. Honestly. You deserve better than the cards you got dealt here.”

“You can say that again,” Rafael sighs. “I did really love you, you know.”

“Yeah. Sometimes that’s not enough. I loved you too.”

He takes a deep breath. “I wish you the best too. You’ll be a good mother.”

“Thank you, Rafi,” you whisper back, leaning over to hug him softly. There it is again; that cold bitter ache - when’s the last time you referred to him by that nickname? And now it would be the last. “Goodbye and good luck.”

"Yeah, you too," he says, rubbing your shoulder awkwardly, remembering a time when touching you was second nature. He watches you, your eyes make contact with Sonny's, and you turn back one last time to give Rafael a sympathetic smile... and that's the last time he ever sees you.

Taglist (lmk if you wanna be added!): @stormtrooperofficerbrowneyes @thatesqcrush @law-nerd105 @blackeyedangel9805 @moon-river-drifter @dianilaws @xecq @lv7867 @teddybluesclues @averyhotchner @houseofthirst @stardust-fray @lapaquerette @wanniiieeee @altsvu

#thatesqcrushvdaybingo #sonny carisi x reader #rafael barba x reader

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hekatekun · 4 years ago

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Missed Opportunities: a look at 246 dynamics

This will be covering the relationships between Karamatsu, Ichimatsu, and Todomatsu. Specifically how they could be "better off" but for reasons aren't. Not blmatsu. A long post, but not particularly in depth. The great thing about Osomatsu-san is that things can be as serious as you want them to be; take all this with a grain of salt.

I would say the defining trait between 246 is that there is a lot of "missed opportunity" or "what could have been." You know, “things didn’t have to be this way.” More specifically, this is Karamatsu's relationship with the other two. Not that this cannot be remedied, but for now nothing is happening. Not any time soon, either. Probably. These aren’t shortcomings they’ll be getting over soon. Interestingly enough, I might have even said this was also applicable to 110 up until recently - so let's start there.

110MATSU: Something of a moving arc going here. Season 1 they’re at their most antagonistic towards each other, with their more docile moments occurring later in the season (most notably the hunt for 123 inside Dayon). Ichimatsu particularly, as Todomatsu has never been one to pick fights. He’s vindictive and isn’t afraid of confrontation, but doesn’t mean he wants to stick his neck out. Ichimatsu, on the other hand, has no qualms being aggressive. He will double-down on embarrassing the fuck out of Totty (as he should). If there is one thing the hivemind has taught all of them, it’s that no brother is above the other, and everyone will equally be dragged back to this self-made hell.

So S1 is the season of “no mercy,” but we see a shift! “ESP Kitty” lays Ichimatsu’s secret in front of everyone: vulnerability. Todomatsu (and 135) sees him like the normie he is for the first time in a real good light, a permanent change. Effectively, by “Dayon Tribe,” this lack of aggression when 456 are left to their own devices becomes a staple of the trio (if we ignore Jyushimatsu’s winter-induced insanity).

In this same timeframe, Ichimatsu gets a real understanding of just how ruthless the crybaby youngest brother is. And by S2 they realize they have a lot more in common than they realized. A certain self-awareness that certain others lack. Totty could easily be lumped in with suiriku as a tryhard who doesn’t know when to quit, but it becomes apparent this isn’t the case. Sure, Totty’s a tryhard - he craves positive attention and will do what he can to get it, but he’ll never reach the level of Karamatsu and Choromatsu. 110 doesn’t need to “impress” each other. Completely vibing. They prefer each other’s company (and Jyushimatsu’s) over the other 3. They’re not each other’s favorite, by a long shot, but S2 they seem more comfortable around each other.

The movie provides a bit of catalyst, and S3 seems keen on keeping it apart of the continuity, so it’s not far fetched to assume their bonding moment in the movie is what led to their current relationship in S3. An ally has been established, and they can be more honest around each other as a result.

What’s “missed opportunity” is that they both underestimated the other, and what they have now could have been achieved earlier in life. Better late than never! However, they both still suck at communicating, but for now battling with barbed words or getting wrapped up in whatever holds their attention still shows they’re (usually) on the same wavelength.

ZAIMOKUMATSU: If Totty is similar to Ichi, it's not surprising he holds to same distaste for Karamatsu. Theoretically speaking, they should be each other's "brother." It's obvious that Choromatsu and Osomatsu are a "duo," and same with Ichimatsu and Jyushimatsu. Whether you wanna include Oso-kun or not, it's evident that they do not click the same way the others do with their “designated brother.”

Oso-kun makes it more “angsty” though, or at least makes this reboot interesting. If Zaimoku was more established as children, this clearly isn't carried to their adult selves. That's just life. They fell apart, growing up, and letting time split them naturally. They still like each other, hang out, but there's no real spark there. How can you when one of you refuses to break character. You could say they're similar to Nenchuu, preferring each other's company only in the greater group dynamic. We’ve established they're both tryhards, but Todomatsu has the self-awareness to know when to drop his pretenses, and doesn't understand Karamatsu's more irrational quirks. Sure, tryhards try hard but they're brothers - they already know each other. No need to impress. For Karamatsu’s part of it, I would say it’s both “always needing to be on top of his public image no matter who sees him (including brothers)” and just... He wants to dress like that. So painful.

Todomatsu’s “fatal flaw” within the group is that he’s quite disconnected from the hivemind. This a repeated issue they address, from “Todomatsu & the 5 Demons” to “Todomatsu’s Line.” He doesn’t understand certain social conventions that “make no sense” from experience. For instance, “Todomatsu’s Line” addresses how secretive he is, but he’s only secretive because he knows if he told them about his life they wouldn’t care. They’re only getting on his ass because he’s pulling away from them. The 6 of them are “all or nothing,” so even just one brother leaving is detrimental to their weird inner-brother politics. It gets rid of the facade they perform under, and must confront reality as a result. And so, they punish him accordingly. We know Karamatsu is already the group punching bag, and Totty soon joins him.

S3E5 “Well, Yeah” with these 2 fighting over the cashier, Karamatsu is willing to challenge him because he considers Todomatsu "harmless." Karamatsu is easily intimidated, we know this, but holds none of those sentiments towards Totty. They're both petty crybabies, and would rather tear each other down than team up.

Zaimoku is amiable with each other (for the most part), but typically avoid each other - or at least wouldn't seek the other out if it can be helped. A simple mismatch. Good thing they have 4 other brothers.

So, they're both the bottom of the barrel, and yet they never have each other's back. As with all 6, they’re self-serving. There’s safety in numbers, and they’re better off joining 4 than defending 1. They have created an environment that punishes whoever wanted to be the bigger man. In the most literal sense: nice guys finish last around these parts.

I could keep going. Todomatsu being banished to sea for a whole skit, Todomatsu being fired from the family, the entirety of the Karamatsu Incident. No one’s safe, but truly Zaimoku sits at the lowest tiers, even in the family.

Leftovers who don't even want to pick each other. Can't blame them, they're both insufferable. They don't respect each other, either. 236 is committed to personas that they think will make people like them. They all more or less hold the belief of “I’m not like these guys, I’m better.” However, Choromatsu genuinely likes Karamatsu. Totty does not. How could he when all he sees is a cringey dude who doesn’t know when to call it quits? Choromatsu is just as bad, and doesn't really consider Karamatsu anything but "harmless."

Being left alone and behind is the worst thing for them, but yet they still don’t want each other, even if they’re “clearly the easiest choice.” That sense of being the “default” choice, rather than a legitimate connection or personalities that get along. Another similarity to Nenchuu, where they’re better off being friends than not out of convenience.

IROMATSU: Take what I just said about Zaimoku and amplify the negativity. Rather than a natural falling out, it is a repeated violent rejection on Ichimatsu's part. It's genuine animosity, because Ichimatsu hates tryhards who lack self-awareness. It's no surprise he doesn't care for Suiriku's company and, until recently, Todomatsu's. The thing is, Ichimatsu is a tryhard. He tried hard in high school, and, though in the opposite direction (”I’m not like these guys, I’m worse”), continues to try hard now.

Concerning Karamatsu, he is equal parts resentful and envious. If the movie implies they used to be friends around high school, it wouldn't surprise me if he resented Karamatsu's "transformation" because Ichi was unable to get over his own issues ("regressing" after high school, though really considering how taxing it was to keep that up he’s probably been burnt out). So yeah, introvert buddies.

He admitted to Choromatsu he finds those who still try even in the face of failure "scary." Ichimatsu's greatest fear is putting himself out there and still being rejected despite his best efforts. That's, again, just how life works, but it's a valid fear to have.

Seeing Karamatsu, someone he considers legitimately stupid, still put his best foot forward (probably on some level) does feel like a slap in the face. It's also just. Painful. Another cringeass clueless older brother, another ally lost.

(Also I can’t ignore how it’s Osomatsu - one of Ichi’s favorites/most tolerable brothers - is the one who calls Karamatsu’s support “teasing” after claiming himself Ichi would kill his own boss; Osomatsu knows how to talk to each brother in a way they’ll understand)

The difference between Zaimoku and Iro is that the former is always played off as joking and while the latter is still funny and over-exaggerated, it usually also comes across as “Did this cross a line?” It tips into real malevolence because, not only does Ichimatsu act opposite how he feels (except for cats), but even in comedy there’s always a hint of sincerity. They’re all cartoonishly violent, but that comes with the idea that that’s actually how they feel in some form. Ichimatsu can’t handle direct support and attention, and he certainly wouldn’t want it from a guy whose social anxiety is worse than his.

And throughout all this, Karamatsu just... ignores it. He doesn't get it, he probably wouldn't even want to know. He legitimately wants to be like this, and doesn’t really get how others don’t find it as attractive (like how Choromatsu doesn’t get why talking about his aspirations isn’t wanted in conversation - they’re not really ones to read the room when it comes to their own shortcomings). So he "avoids" 110. No point seeking out their company and be rejected for "no reason." He doesn't want criticism, and none of them want communication. I should reiterate, this is all comedy. It’s funny. I love it! But it’s slapstick with thought.

Short-sighted, they prioritize instant gratification above anything else. The end result, unsurprisingly, is a group of brothers who find it impossible to talk to each other - to bully and harass - when they could do better for one another.

#osomatsu san #karamatsu #ichimatsu #todomatsu #karamatsu matsuno #ichimatsu matsuno #todomatsu matsuno #iromatsu #110matsu #zaimokumatsu #analysis

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beautifulterriblequeen · 4 years ago

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Do you find Moonshadow culture becoming a little less... likeable? (but not less interesting) It seems like they hand out Ghostings like candy with no path to forgiveness and no belief in a person’s ability to change and reform themselves. The pressure and anxiety those elves must be feeling at all times has got to astronomical. What are your thoughts?

I have plenty of thoughts, as always! Less likeable than what, though, anon? Maybe you’ve missed most of my posts on Moonshadow society over the last year...

Moonshadow society is a disaster, poor thing. It’s a tightlaced corset, pretty but restrictive with long term consequences. It’s a queer neurodivergent elf who just wants to do their very best but all the rules that are supposed to help them out with that end up hurting them too and they don’t know how to stop or change and so yes they’re dancing gracefully in the moonlight and yes they express themselves through beauty but if you get close enough you can hear the constant pterodactyl screech of their soul too. (Did I extrapolate extra hard from “Runaan is the most Moonshadow of the Moonshadow elves”, maybe yes)

Moonshadow society is deeply flawed and it needs help, but it’s so big and pervasive that it may be impossible to change its course without severe consequences, just like last time (aka moving east across the border and becoming assassins that took out humans). The elves can only do so much to alter their own fates from inside their own society.

Some may leave and never return. Some get ghosted and want nothing more than to re-enter the fold because they still believe in its ideals, like Feathershawl. Some probably try to change things from the inside, whether subtly or obviously. And others embrace the rules with both arms and try to mold themselves into The Perfect Moonshadow Who Can Do No Wrong, in order to remain safe and to belong.

But that’s a spectrum you’re going to get when perfectionism is a big part of your cultural philosophy. Everything has to be Just So for so many aspects of these elves’ lives, and it’s Very Not Good for them. Yes, they’re pretty. But mandating prettiness is just as bad as mandating other aspects of personal choice and free will.

As for ghosting, I really don’t think Moonshadows just yeet those left and right with little care for the consequences. I do think they’re too harsh with their shunning! Shunning, giving up, turning their back in a relatively permanent way, that’s not a good solution. Learning and adapting are important, and knowing that you have time and room to practice and adjust is so important for mental health and stability in your society. Living in constant fear of minding the rules or getting even perceived to be doing something incorrectly is such a drain on your energy.

But I do think that the Moonshadows have strict rules for what deserves ghosting and what doesn’t, just as they do for other stuff. The details of Feathershawl’s ghosting are theirs to keep, and I assume any Narrator could flesh those out however they chose during a playtest, whether to make their situation more or less sympathetic for the players.

But my take is this: Moonshadow elves revere life very deeply, and they work constantly to serve each other and their whole community, as they hold themselves together and celebrate their continued existence on every level they can. When someone in a position of big responsibility for the health, well-being, and lives of so many Moonshadow citizens messes up in such a bad way that there’s a plague and lots of elves die--lose their precious lives, lose those connections with others, leave their families torn and distraught and unable to focus on their own duties due to heavy, soul-sucking grief--when one elf causes this level of arcanum-deep catastrophe, I can absolutely see why the other Moonshadow elders would be horrified and grief-stricken, and furious. It’s a very un-Moonshadow thing to have happen, especially with how hard they’re all trying to be so very Moonshadow all the time.

Feathershawl had a position that gave them authority over the food sources that kept a good number of the Forest’s elves fed and able to live their lives without privation. And they screwed that up somehow. They were trusted with a basic staple of everyday life--food--and they got it wrong in such a horrible way that there are a lot fewer Moonshadow elves as a result.

Moonshadow elves need each other’s support and presence as part of their communal network, and anything that tears at that fabric goes against everything that Moonshadow philosophy stands for. Feathershawl themself had literally dozens of family members, whose illusions were kept in their crystal. That’s a lot of family! If it’s common for Moonshadow elves to have that many family members, then a plague would probably touch every family multiple times and leave everyone multiply devastated. It’s just Bad All Around.

There’s probably a lot more to Rayla’s ghosting than we know, since we only learned of it from her POV and she’s not in the habit of sharing Moonshadow secrets with Callum just yet. Knowing that Moonshadow families are so thickly intertwined, and how heavily they rely on each other to help support and cheer each other through standing strong together and mutual services, it’s no big stretch to imagine that Rayla’s biggest crime in Moonshadow eyes wasn’t her supposed running away, it was that her actions cost the Silvergrove their assassin leader, one of their elders and one of the strongest moral guiding hands they had. Rayla cost the Silvergrove their most Moonshadow Moonshadow.

Without Runaan, the Silvergrove is probably reeling quite a bit, and Rayla’s failure is to blame, in their eyes. They’re all suffering, and they need to put the blame somewhere--other than themselves--so they can start to move forward again.

It’s far from ideal. It’s very shame and blame oriented. But it does hold to some internal logic that seems to bear out through the three ghostings we know of for sure so far.

Another things Moonshadows are very good at is quick action. The moment they think there’s been a “mistake”, they move to address it. Whatever feelings they have on the matter, they process it in half a second (if at all) and jump straight to rectification. You attack the Storm Spire? Lain’s gonna kick you down the stairs. You think the Silvergrove ghosted you unfairly? You literally run to Ethari for help. You see Rayla trying to stay on the mission? You grab her wrists so she can’t draw her weapons. You see your workshop doors open but no one’s there? You stop working and fetch a hammer in case you need to smash a vindictive ghost. You think your friends failed their duty and dishonored you? You take everyone you can to go uphold that honor, including a 15 year old girl. (Holy cats does that mean everyone on Runaan’s squad was family, oh god) Swift action is a reassertion of the rules, of what’s right, so no one forgets. That’s got to include ghosting for things that are really terrible.

What I do find interesting is that Eljaal, the homesick assassin who is afraid to return home, may not be worried about ghosting specifically? But it’s a little unclear. I think there is something else they fear, perhaps a lesser punishment? But still one they can’t yet bring themself to face, poor elf.

I do think Moonshadow society is very stressful on the mind, and all these elves have become very skilled at hiding, mitigating, and otherwise working around their stresses and traumas. The greatest illusion that Moonshadows play is the one that Everything Is Fine, because there is always more work to do, and they keep telling themselves that they’re the ones who must do it, for everyone elses’s sakes. Laziness and selfishness are probably the same thing to Moonshadows. Hmm, maybe that’s why Runaan lets his family drag him off to picnics on his birthday, so he doesn’t seem selfish for wanting alone time.

In very very long, anon, Moonshadows are a Mess tee emm, and they’ve been designed that way from the start: doing their best inside a flawed system. This is the heart of their imperfection. They will probably benefit from spending time with literally anyone else aside from just themselves. They really really need to get out more, or to let someone else in, because the strictest of their own traditions are actually ruining the life and beauty they work so hard to celebrate.

#asks #moonshadow elves #ghosting #moonshadow culture #rayla #runaan #ethari #feathershawl #eljaal #let them all rest

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alj4890 · 4 years ago

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Delicate

(Olivia Nevarkis x Ethan Ramsey) (Olivia Nevarkis x Drake Walker) in a Choices The Royal Romance/Open Heart Crossover crack series.

A/N Olivia and Ethan's plans for another double date are met with two extra uninvited guests: Maxwell and Drake. Unable to believe this is the Olivia he has known all his life, Drake becomes determined to draw real her out. With Maxwell's encouragement, Drake tries to think of ways for Ethan to see Olivia's temper and find a way to win her back. Once again, we will have a flashback that shows Ethan and Olivia's first fight shortly after she arrived in Boston.

Masterlist

@jooous @krsnlove @nomadics-stuff @twinkleallnight @motorcitymademadame

Part 3

Somewhere near Boston Harbor...

Olivia's grip on the helm tightened as her attention settled on her unexpected guests.

This double date was supposed to be for four, not four plus Drake and Maxwell.

The night before had shaken her confidence. It wasn't so much in seeing Drake again, but in what he reminded her of.

The Duchess of Lythikos. As cold as the land she rules over. Offspring of Traitors. Unable to find someone to love her.

Being away from Cordonia had allowed her to see that she could live a life out from under those shadows. She could walk up to a group of people and be greeted with a smile and warm welcome instead of cautious suspicion. She could prove that she had intelligence and a stubbornness to do something worthwhile.

She could possibly find someone who would love her for herself and not for the very reputation she couldn't seem to escape.

Her gaze was caught by the man making his way toward her. She knew she was resting her hope on him to be the one who could love the woman she was.

"You didn't tell me you were an expert sailor too." Ethan teased, settling his arms around her waist.

She couldn't help but smile. "I thought by now that you would know to never underestimate me."

He chuckled while hugging her close from behind. "You're right. That's all on me."

She felt her confidence lift somewhat as they simply enjoyed being near one another.

It would have been perfect. The late October morning’s sunshine sparkled on the waves. A brisk breeze blew, gliding them on around the harbor. The land glowed with bursts of fall color between the shimmering downtown buildings.

All was right for a romantic time together.

Can one have a romantic time with an ex lover and a talkative friend in the very same boat?

Olivia could hear catches of Amanda's laughter drifting from the bow of the boat. Her eyes narrowed on Maxwell standing before her and Thomas and then Drake smirking at a story the fun loving noble was telling.

"Your friend doesn't seem to ever stop talking." Ethan commented.

"Who? Maxwell?" She snorted. "He doesn't when he has a captive audience."

Feeling a bit uneasy, she asked what story Maxwell was sharing.

"Nothing about people I have heard you mention." Ethan remarked. "He was talking about some lady at a ball with poodles."

Olivia relaxed some. At least it wasn't about her. "Penelope."

She felt Ethan shrug behind her. "I think that was one of the names he said." He pressed a kiss to her cheek. "He also told me one about you."

Her knuckles turned white on the wheel. "He did?"

"Yes." He tucked a stray curl that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear. His lips brushed against it as he talked. "He told me how you helped fight terrorists while Riley was getting ready for her wedding to Liam."

She forced her grip to relax. Olivia had once shared that part of her life with him. She had even been obliged to show him her scar from her stab wound. His reaction had surprised her. There was no revulsion that her family had married her off to some vindictive wannabe king. There was no morbid curiousity about learning from a young age how to wield a dagger. Nothing except admiration at her surviving such an ordeal.

"I thought there was just the one fight during the wedding reception." He murmured, squeezing her close once more. "I didn't know you were twice a hero."

Her lips curved as she turned her head to look up at him. "Well, I didn't want to come off as a braggart."

He laughed before capturing her lips in a heated kiss. "Is this the same woman who had the nerve to tell me how to properly treat a gunshot wound a few weeks ago?"

She smiled as their mouths met again, knowing he was proud of her each time she did show how intelligent she was or shared something she had overcome. The warmth in his embrace was sweetened by the fact that she knew she could trust that type of reaction from him.

It was a heady sensation, one she hoped would never end.

*ahem* Drake cleared his throat louder a third time. "Amanda was wondering if you two were ready to eat."

"Of course." Olivia replied. She and Ethan prepared to back the mainsail while Drake returned to the bow.

******************

A short time later...

Drake could not get past how different Olivia seemed to the naked eye. It was as if that hardness that she kept in her everyday life had disappeared. This new version of her worried him.

It was a version he knew any man would fall in love with.

Her actions with Ethan had been eye opening as well. The moment she introduced the doctor to him and Maxwell, she had slipped her arm around himn...as if she was actually proud to be with Ethan.

He didn't know what to make of that other than this being beyond anything he could have imagined. The rest of their time in her apartment had consisted of him observing how comfortable the new couple was together. Their heated glances not bothering to be hidden. The light touches hinting at a longing to be alone. The happiness!

Olivia never smiles so easily! Where's the smirk? The slightly insulting, biting sarcasm?

Why did she never show me this side?

Even now, she was helping unpack a large picnic basket while exchanging private jokes with Ethan and Thomas and Amanda.

Drake had never felt more like such an outsider looking in.

Maxwell sat down next to him.

"You've got to act fast." He whispered. "Their relationship is too far advanced to have only started dating recently."

Drake's lips firmed into a thin line. That's what bothered him. They shouldn't be this close. All they did was discuss building a hospital for months. Interview candidates. Make business plans.

Could they have been falling in love during all that?

"So..." Maxwell hedged, hoping to help his friend out. "How much longer are you ladies planning on staying in America?"

Amanda blinked in surprise. She had already told her plans the night before. "Thomas and I plan on remaining here until after the new year." Her brow furrowed when Maxwell seemed surprised. "He still has the rest of the semester to teach."

Olivia shrugged. "My plans are not yet set."

"What about Lythikos?" Drake spoke up. "Are you going to leave Hana in charge indefinitely?"

Olivia's eyes collided with his. He felt a little relieved to see the flash of anger contort her features.

But then they smoothed back into one of peace.

He felt a slight chill run down his back at seeing something that looked so unnatural.

"I spoke to Hana a few days ago about it. She said she was more than happy to remain for a few more months." A proud smile formed on her lips. "Especially since I offered to host her wedding in thanks for her help."

"A winter wonderland wedding!" Amanda exclaimed. "That will be gorgeous!"

Drake grimaced that his prodding had not brought out the old Olivia but also turned to the romantic subject of weddings.

He searched for something else to talk about. Something had to break what had to be this fake version. Wasn't he doing everyone a favor by doing so? Ethan would see that she wasn't the same woman he had come to fall for. Olivia could be her old self without worry. And who knows...Drake might even be allowed back into her life.

"What else is there left to do here?" He interrupted Amanda's description of her wedding to Ethan. He gestured toward the man he was developing a definite dislike. "You've gotten the doctor you wanted to run the hospital. The funding was secured long ago. The building is nearly finished, with Riley overseeing the equipment placement and furnishings you've demanded." His eyes darted back and forth on Olivia and Ethan. "Why are you staying here?"

The plastic fork in Olivia's hand snapped in two with the sharp part of the handle stabbing her in her palm.

If not for a brief intake of breath, no one would have realized she was injured until the blood appeared.

"Olivia!" Ethan quickly pulled her hand toward him to see how deep it went. He reached for some napkins and bottled water, gently cleaning the area.

"It," she sucked in a painful breath when he pressed near it, "it isn't that bad."

He quirked an eyebrow. "Allow me to diagnose this, please."

"You're making a big deal out of nothing." She squirmed.

It wasn't so much Ethan's tending as it was everyone staring at them that was bothering her.

That and Drake trying to make her mad.

And succeeding.

"I promise." She placed her uninjured hand on Ethan's. "I will be fine."

"I know you'll live." He responded. Noticing the faint blush on her cheeks, he decided to tease her to get her mind off their audience. "Next time you decide to lose your temper, throw the fork instead of breaking it."

He watched as a reluctant smile appeared on her face.

"You're not wrong." She muttered.

Drake watched their exchange and began to see that their attraction to one another had already revealed what she did when riled. Ethan had somehow seen past it and pursued her.

"Don't encourage her to start throwing forks, Doc." Maxwell tried to lighten the tension. "We're already dodging daggers at court."

Ethan pulled a first aid kit out and began to bandage her hand. "If I've learned anything these last few months," he gently squeezed her fingers, "it's that the person she decides to throw something at most likely deserves it."

Olivia shook with suppressed laughter when he playfully winced in memory.

Drake's eyes narrowed. "I take it you know first hand what that is like?"

Ethan finished tying the ends while ordering her to keep it elevated. Settling his arm around her, he smirked over at the man he knew was an ex of hers.

"I do. I found out not too long after she moved to Boston..."

****************

Four months earlier...

Ethan stormed into the office Naveen had given Olivia.

She looked up from a set of reports and glared at the interruption. "You're late."

"I have patients." He snapped. "Just because you want a meeting doesn't mean I work on your schedule."

Her eyes narrowed at his tone. "This meeting concerns your future as a doctor. One I have put you as head of your dream hospital." The bite in her tone held enough venom to sting. "If I were you, I would watch how I speak to me."

He bent down, braced his hands in her desk, and made certain she had to look up at him. "You are not my boss yet. In fact, you will never be mine." He tossed the contract she had delivered to him by a harassed orderly on her desk. His index finger struck the papers. "According to this, I have a say in who is and who isn't hired."

"Along with Naveen and me." She snapped. "The entire council is depending on me to pick the best physicians I can find."

"And what qualifies you for such?" He gripped her desk. "That duchess title of yours?"

Olivia bristled. Her green eyes sparked with anger. "No. My own study of medicine."

"Your own study?" He scoffed. "Reading WebMD does not make you qualified, Ms. Nevarkis."

She abruptly got to her feet, causing him to stumble back. Striding past him, she shut the door when she noticed a group of interns trying to overhear their fight. With deliberate steps, she returned to her desk and ripped open one of the drawers. Yanking out the piece of paper that had come to mean more to her than anything that she had found in her family's vault, she handed it to the highly irritated doctor without a word.

Ethan unfurled it. His eyes scanned the degree in nursing she had earned from a well known medical college in Europe.

Flicking his eyes toward her, he handed it back. "So you're a nurse?"

"Not just any nurse." She corrected, stung by the condescension she could detect in his voice, "a critical care nurse. I finished my Advanced Life Support Certification before coming here."

"I see." His eyes narrowed once more. "Then as a critical care nurse, you should be the first to understand that when I head the E.R. that no meeting is worth pulling me away from the critically injured."

She blanched at the knowledge of where he had been. Sifting through her papers she found his schedule. Her fist clinched around it. "Today is not your day to work there."

"It is when the doctor who is supposed to be calls in sick!" He yelled, frustrated with her arguing with him over this. The many hours he had been working with little sleep had made her the perfect foil for his temper.

"Well, I didn't know you had taken her place!" She yelled back. "You could have sent me that information so I wouldn't send out a damn search party for you!"

"I'm an adult!" He roared. "One who is trying to treat as many patients as I can before uprooting my life for your ridiculous country!" His blue eyes burned into her green. "You are not required to know my every move!"

"I had the King of Cordonia on the phone waiting to talk to you!" She yanked her office phone's receiver, ripping it from the base, to wave in his face. "The entire council wanted to speak to you!"

A smirk tilted his lips up, causing her rage to turn into an inferno.

"Here's the thing, duchess." His voice had lowered to a more sinister tone. "I don't give a rat's ass about your council wanting to talk to me."

Before he could turn and leave her sputtering, she threw the receiver at him. It struck right in what she knew was his cold heart.

His eyes widened at her display of temper.

Her breaths came in fast as she stood before him, not in the least repentant for her actions.

As much as he hated it, a spurt of respect grew at her not backing down. In fact, she was meeting everything he threw at her with her own ways to put him in his place. That thought allowed his anger to dissipate.

Knowing he was partly responsible for this fight, he bent down and picked up her receiver and moved to place it back on her phone.

Olivia stiffened when he brushed past her. He was so close that she could smell a mixture of hand sanitizer and whatever aftershave he had used earlier that morning.

After checking to make certain her office phone still worked, he stepped back and waited for her to say something.

Recognizing an olive branch from someone with a temper similar to hers, her stance eased but remained guarded. She cut her eyes to her phone then back to him.

"Thank you." She forced herself to say.

He slipped his hands into his pockets and nodded. "I will be off tomorrow." He glanced at his contract on her desk. "If you are able to schedule another phone conference, I can be back anytime you need."

She relaxed some more. "I'll let you know."

Not knowing how to quite end this tense encounter, he gave another brief nod before opening her door.

"Did you sign the contract?" She asked, making him pause in her doorway.

"Yes." He shut the door after answering and returned to the emergency room.

A smile slowly formed on her lips before she sat down once more behind her desk.

*****************

"You threw a phone?!" Drake looked back and forth between the two. "And you still asked her out?"

"Actually, I took her to coffee the very next day." Ethan replied. "She impressed me and I decided to get to know the person she really was."

Olivia smirked at Drake. "Not everyone sees my temper as a bad thing."

“Not when it is justified.” Ethan added.

Drake folded his arms while the conversation turned to Maxwell's plans in Hollywood. He knew he was now on an unexpected playing field. Ethan was an adversary of a new ilk. He wasn't a stuffy noble or even a rough commoner. Drake only knew one thing for certain: he was going to be a difficult guy to beat to try and win Olivia back.

#ethan ramsey x olivia nevarkis #dr. ethan ramsey #olivia nevrakis #trr olivia #trr drake #drake walker x olivia nevrakis #drake walker #trr maxwell #oh ethan ramsey #choices open heart #choices the royal romance #choices crossover #choices the stories you play

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jcmoneydick · 4 years ago

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TharnType SS2 Episode 6

Finally, there was some progression in the plot.

This is the face of a man who thinks he is losing the love of his life. I feel for Tharn, the years of love TT share are barely holding up in the face of job pressure. I know it takes two to make a relationship work, but Type is not doing his half. I know Type doesn’t want to make his boss more vindictive, but the situation is getting out of hand. Tharn shouldn’t feel like he is in a relationship with Type’s job. Tharn just wants to spend time with Type and the point is flying over Type’s head.

Champ is like… shooting his shot but being safe at the same time. It’s so adorable. Dr. Khunpol is the sweetest thing ever. HIS EARS ARE SO RED! Y’all know I love Dr. Khunpol, but he is making the work situation worse. I appreciate his want to help and his loyalty to Champ’s friends, but Type is gonna cuss him out when he finds out. I love Champ lowkey telling Doc to mind his own business. Champ’s right Type can take care of himself. Always has. But of course, that would further nothing.

I know, you know, Type knows that Type loves Tharn. I think it’s time Type reminds Tharn. Tharn is clingy, and constantly needs reassurance surrounding Type.

It’s so cute that P’Thorn is planning the wedding. Even if he has help from Thanya. Even if his big bro complex is still at an all time high.

Beck_affects on tiktok reminded me of the most important plot of the show. The Seven Year Itch. I don’t fear TT breaking up, and I assume that’s why I forget about it. Type is just learning how to balance job and love life. I’m starting to see how he is adjusting, but Type’s a hothead at heart. He’ll always start with shade and end with understanding.

I love that Type has someone to talk to whether it be work or Tharn. She seems like a good influence for Type and potentially a good friend.

There is a small detail I have noticed. If I’m not mistaken, last season whenever Type got annoyed or mad, his voice would become high and very nasally. There are instances of it now, but more often, I notice his voice dropping an octave when he has to encounter his boss. It’s like he’s trying his best not to hit, and has to internalize all of it to suppress the urge.

WHAT WOULD THE WARNING NOTICE BE? Failure to complete someone else’s tasks? Inability to tolerate bullshit? Being hotter than his boss? He pisses me off. I do thoroughly enjoy this angle. Makes me feel like checked the bottom of my shoe and found him. Scum underneath my shoe. The gum on the underside of a public school desk. That feeling when your sole in your most comfortable converse has a hole. And you step in a puddle.

Yes, Type. Ignore Fiat! No, Type. It’s a trick. Don’t Type, no… Boundaries. Have them. How is Type falling for Fiat’s shit. I don’t fuckin get it. This man Tharn has TAMED Type. He would’ve exploded SO long ago last season.

I KNEW I’D SEE THAT SPRITE EVENTUALLY. I’ve been mentioning it since episode 1. Classic TT apology. Tharn is such a sucker too. He absolutely sucks at playing hard to get. But Type is a pro at it. He knows Tharn is wrapped around his finger.

Leo and Fiat. Leo sees Fiat is out of pocket. Leo attempts to put Fiat back in his pocket. Fiat plays the victim. Leo is the hero. I am left with confusion. Does Fiat like LIKE Leo? Is Fiat aware of Leo’s actual feelings? I say yes. Is Fiat aware of his own feelings for Leo? I say not really. It feels like Fiat doesn’t think he has a chance or refuses to “ruin” his relationship with Leo. We got a lot of information about their characters, but I still feel like we are missing a vital piece of information. I’m trying to read between the lines, but I’m not picking up anything. It also feels like Fiat just wants to chase. Like Leo makes it too easy and Fiat likes a challenge.

“Don’t you know I’m doing this because of you? So why do you chase me away?”

Alternatively: I’m trying to make you jealous, why aren’t you claiming me for yourself?

This is part of the confusion I am feeling. I’m definitely missing something between these two.

Type is adorable, and has grown so much in his relationship. Now he’s so much more confident in his affection (with the exception of his jealousy). He knows Tharn is always there for him.

But this better not be another proposal. A nice romantic “staycation”, cool. A work destress, cool. I promise if the words “marriage”, “marry”, or “wedding” leave Tharn’s lips next week, Imma riot.

I reiterate: “He is Type Thiwat Phawattakhun and fuck with his man you will not.”

#type thiwat #tharn kirigun #tharntype #tharntype 2: 7 years of love

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jdgo51 · 2 years ago

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Emotions of Grief

Today's inspiration comes from:

Through a Season of Grief

by Bill Dunn & Kathy Leonard

"'Your Emotions

Your emotions can be intense, draining, and hard to hold back; they run deep and are tangled up inside you.

Everyone goes through some unexpected emotions, and it helps for you to identify and sort out the emotions that apply to you. This is part of the healing process.

Which emotions have you experienced during the grieving process?

Jesus can identify with your sorrows.

He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering. Like one from whom men hide their faces He was despised, and we esteemed Him not. — Isaiah 53:3

Lord Jesus, You alone know my suffering and pain. Please sort through these emotions with me. Amen.

Sudden and Unpredictable

Circumstances will change. People will change. Surroundings will change. But the Bible leads you to the one sure thing:

I the Lord do not change. — Malachi 3:6

Out Of Control

“There was this overwhelming feeling of being out of control... overwhelmed and watching life pass by,” says Cindy following her daughter’s death.

Job expressed this sentiment:

If only my anguish could be weighed and all my misery be placed on the scales! It would surely outweigh the sand of the seas—no wonder my words have been impetuous. — Job 6:2–3

Precious Lord, You know the desires of my heart. In my confusion give me peace to know that You are in control of all life and You do not make mistakes. Amen.

Jesus can identify with your sorrows.

This Can't Be Happening

Although your mind knows the facts, your heart is often reluctant to accept the death of someone you know and love.

“You may have a tendency to deny,” says Dr. H. Norman Wright. “Denial covers over the sharpness of the pain.”

You may be tempted to “dive into” your work and fill your mind with anything but the truth of the situation. But the book of Proverbs tells us to be open to the truth and to pursue it:

Buy the truth and do not sell it; get wisdom, discipline and understanding. — Proverbs 23:23

Jesus, give me the courage to face the truth. With Your help I know I can do it. Amen.

Isolation

“There are people who love you and want to pray for you and want to talk with you,” says Dr. Tim Clinton. “If you allow that to happen,

God puts great salve on deep wounds.”

Doesn’t that sound wonderful—a great salve on deep wounds? Jeremiah cried out to God for just such a thing and found Him to be faithful and true.

Is there no balm in Gilead? Is there no physician there? Why then is there no healing for the wound of my people? — Jeremiah 8:22

‘But I will restore you to health and heal your wounds,’ declares the Lord, ‘because you are called an outcast, Zion for whom no one cares’. — Jeremiah 30:17

Faithful God, bring me out of my self-imposed isolation that I may be healed by the Balm of Gilead—Jesus Christ. Amen.

Suppression Can Lead to Explosion

In the midst of overwhelming emotional suffering and pressure, Jesus looked to God with determination.

And being in anguish he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground. — Luke 22:44

Holy God, may my resolve to release my emotional pressure and to seek You be as earnest as Jesus’ prayer. Amen.

Anger: Your Strongest Emotion

The Bible instructs you to be angry!

Be angry, and yet do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger. — Ephesians 4:26 NASB

Anger by itself is not a sin, and it is one of the most common emotions associated with grief.

Holy Spirit, grant me the freedom and opportunity to release my anger in a way that helps, not hurts. Amen."'

Excerpted with permission from Through a Season of Grief by Bill Dunn and Kathy Leonard, copyright The Church Initiative, Inc.

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melloian · 3 years ago

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Character Bio 10

Alexandre Colbert

Age: 26 at death

Gender: M

Race: French Species: Human (formerly), Zombie (currently)

Alignment: Bad

Status: Dead

Occupation: Ice cream vendor, Supervillain

Love interest: none

Friends: Joanne, Andre (vendor), Zombizou

Enemies: Miraculous heroes, comedy...

Personality: Irritable, complaintive, envious, Loquacious, Competitive, Obedient, overdramatic, Vindictive, Sanctimonious

Bio: Alexandre is a zombie who pretty much spends they life on being a villain. At day, he pretty much disguise himself as a human and be vendor. However in the afternoon, he usually himself. He pretty much known to insult everyone and complain about anything. He can also be easily irritated. He pretty much goes by the name, Ha-endor.

He sometimes act nice, but he claims its boring to act nice.

As a villain: He have some type of grudge against comedy. He wants to complete remove its existence.

Backstory:

Alexandre was just a normal vendor who was working at a festival whose sells ice cream. Announcement went on about some one coming on stage. He took this time as a break and went over there. The people announced a comedian to come on stage. At this time, Alexandre loved jokes. The comedian soon introduced himself and started with his jokes. However his jokes was horrible, but Alexandre laughed at each one. Soon Alexandre ended up choking and coughing and eventually his body collapsed causing everyone to freak out. The announcer soon called the hospital. Ambulance soon came and rushed him to the hospital. But as soon they put him on a ventilator, he was already dead. Later, people announced his death, and soon started his funeral. After the funeral and putting him a gravesite, soon a necromancer came near. The necromancer soon revive him as a zombie. However, it was error that caused him to look different. As soon as he was revived, he instantly choked the necromancer. Necromancer push his arms out the way. Alexandre wanted to know why he revived him, but the necromancer didn’t answer and just soon left. Instead of yelling at necromancer for an answer, he thinks that he revived him for a 2nd chance. So he used this chance to go against comedy because how he die from it. So he later called himself Ha-endor.

Power

Whenever he laughs, people starts to uncontrollable laugh around him.

When people show any laughing emotion, he able to drain them and gather their happy soul. Which he can consume. Once he do so, the person falls unconscious, drained.

Soon or later, he was able to drain any time of happy emotion.

He can freeze people with his mouth.

He can make icy mist with his finger. He can use this power to make an area cold or change the weather to cold (he only used this on stomera changing the weather (stormy weather)).

However if he change the weather, he ends up dying temporarily.

Ice blaster 9000 - He built this since he cant turn people fully to ice, so this blaster makes a person into ice crystal.

He can make bomb balloons.

Weakness: If he keeps laughing, he ends up choking and his heart stops (his heart stills works in his undead form but its very weak.) In result spiting out blood.

(I recommend you skipping these akumantized forms)

Phobia Circus (akumantized form)

Altered personality: stubborn, Bizarre, Boisterous, Imprudent

cause of akumanzation: guard at the theme park wouldn’t like him to enter because he would’ve scared the children which angered him.

Goal: He wants to show him what’s true fear is like

Akumantized object: Balloon

abilities:

Because of his size, he able to smash anything with his body. (first form)

He uses his mouth as a portal to enter his “fear circus” world.

Inside there, he able to create anyone’s true fear. He can also create rides and games about the person’s fear or for tormenting the person.

He can stretch his body in strange ways and pretty much flexible.

He uses a hammer to smash things far away (first form)

He pretty stiff

Weakness: since his 1st form is made out of balloon, there’s a hole to unplug it.

If the person show no fear, he becomes weakened.

Gaganai (akumanzatied form)

Altered personality: selfish, immature, Impatient, mischief, Deceitful, irresponsible

He pretty much acts like a toddler and have a brain of a toddler now (and the size of a toddler). However, he still have parts of his adult mind. He pretty much fumble with his words, so its sorta hard to understand him.

cause of akumanzation: Joanne didn’t appreciate his work and started yelling him for doing a sloppy job for helping with the creche. So Joanne didn’t want anymore help from him, causing him to get really angry and complaint about everything.

Goal: get revenge on Joanne

Akumantized object: pacifier

abilities:

With his lollipop, he can age down people to the point they turn into dust. He can do the same by making them age up instead. The more he holds the lollipop towards the person, it will rapidly de-age or age them.

He can also make people dazed if he smack them awhile the lollipop energy is on.

Weakness:

If he uses too much energy, the lollipop will stop working. The only way to recharge the lollipop is to suck on the lollipop.

Since he post to be toddler, he very fragile.

He can run fast, however, he can trip easily causing to hurt himself.

He can be easily distracted by toys. He will attempt to resist it because of it.

Relationships (main ones):

Ha-endor & Zombizou

Ha-endor meet Zombizou near the graveyard. They become friends later. He pretty much annoyed about her “love” comments. He hates the fact she calls him plummie. However, he pretty much enjoy her as a friend.

Alexandre & Joanne

Alexandre met Joanne when he was alive. They used to chat alot and hang out with each other. When he off work, he usually visit her. She always wanted to work in the hobby he likes doing, but he refuses because he thinks its embarrassing. The last thing he told to Joanne was him being happy to work at the festival before he died.

Meeting him again

When he die, Joanne was upset. She started to miss him being around. Alexandre wanted to visited one last time, however Joanne was scared of him. He told her who he was and then Joanne stopped. She started crying and hugged him soon after.

Onwards

Alexandre and Joanne still get along as before, however not much. Alexandre dislikes how she can get angry fast recently and soon apologize afterwards.

Later, he realized Joanne had a crush on him this entire time.

Ha-endor & Gabriel

Even though Ha-endor don’t work at Daroness, He knows Gabriel. He dislikes him and thinks he the worst thing that ever happened. He also hate how he can’t talk to others in his tower.

Full body

Ghost form

Before he die

Other information:

He can exit his body if he wanted too.

His death became popular for some reason.

He is one of the villains who can’t remember their akumantized forms. Other being mime and Nathalie.

Even though he doesn’t show sympathy, he sometimes cares for others. But he hides that.

He had many hobbies such as designing outfits, cosplaying, drawing, acting and baking. But he claims its embarrassing to tell anyone this. However he uses these hobbies for making disguises.

He can sometimes tell when some one is acting or lying.

He have a curse where he will uncontrollably laugh at random. He claims that he trying to prevent himself from doing this but its too strong.

He become a ice cream vendor because he loved ice cream way too much.

He carries a emery board on his pocket. He usually use it just to irritate people awhile using it on his nails.

He is post to play as a comedic relief character but will still have serious moment though.

GUYS AM SORRY FOR THE CRINGE I DONT HAVE A FETISH I SWEAR. TRUST ME, WHEN I MAKE THE COMICS IS NOT GOING BE CRINGE.

To involve this cringey post just please go here for information about zombies.

However at the same time i posted this to wait for psychomedian episode will come out any time soon.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous au #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #ml #zombizou #miraculous oc #am sorry for cringe ;-;#i hope this post gets ignored asap #miraculous ladybug reboot #ml reboot

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xianglingslesbian · 4 years ago

Text

ewbts - my top moments

no i will never stop laughing at that abbreviation it’s beautiful. buckle in because this is gonna be long, and probably don’t read it unless you’ve watched/read kuroko’s basketball and like izuki lmaoooo

chapter 1: hatchling, awaken

Izuki swallows. “Why do you all think I can do this?”

Then Kiyoshi turns to him with steel in his eyes (that must be how he got nicknamed Iron Heart - he seriously never backs down!) and asks him very clearly, “Why don’t you?”

Why don’t I think I can be captain?

“Because nobody thought I could be until now.”

aka “ceru is a masochist”, exhibit 1/???. anyway lets hear it for insecurities!!

chapter 2: liftoff

Predictably, Kuroko drags him aside at practice the next day and says, “I have something to tell you, Izuki-senpai.”

Izuki smiles at him. “Is it about your five evil exes?”

Kuroko looks horrified. “My what?!”

i think im funny

chapter 3: crash landing

As Izuki walks off the court, he looks for flashing glasses and grey eyes.

He curses himself for the heavy sadness that falls over him like a blanket when he doesn’t spot them.

yay for “ceru is a masochist” exhibit 2!

Oh, he [Izuki] watched videos of Aomine, came up with strategy after strategy to corner him, but videos and strategies can only go so far. Aomine in real life is something else entirely, a flash of lightning setting the court on fire with the sheer elegance of his crazy street basketball. All one can do is sit back and watch, awed beyond belief. Nothing can curb the wild madness that is Aomine Daiki – unrestrained, gleeful insanity dancing across the court like it’s his playground.

i also rlly like this line, it has some pretty imagery and we all know im a slut for pretty imagery~

chapter 4: a broken bone grows back stronger

“All right,” Koganei says to himself, moving to stand in front of the hoop. “One more time.”

He jumps, raising the ball to just above his face and releasing it. It misses, and he lets out a cry of frustration.

Can he even do this? Is it worth the time?

Koganei bites back the wave of guilt that washes over him at the thought. Izuki, Kiyoshi, Tsuchida, Rinnosuke, Kagami, Kuroko – he’d be letting them down if he didn’t give this his best shot. They’re all so dedicated to basketball that they each have a special skill honed from years of practice and love for the sport. If he can’t bring anything of his own to the table, what will he mean to this team? Seirin makes him want to be a team player, to add his skills to theirs rather than shining on his own. The change is good, yes, but he doesn’t want to stop there – he doesn’t want to be useless.

He will not be useless.

a bit of context: in this fic, since hyuuga did not return, koga became the SG for seirin :D i think my favorite character to develop, apart from izuki, was koganei - it was so fun to imagine all the ways he could have gone!

chapter 5: spreading new wings

All too soon, the day of judgment arrives, and Seirin convenes in the gym one last time before they head off to the Winter Cup building. No one says anything; not Kagami, fresh from his training trip to America, not Izuki, not Kiyoshi or Riko. They simply stand there, breathing in the scent of cleaner and leather and something else that’s so entirely Seirin, and knowing that no matter what happens this Winter Cup, they will return to the gym different people than they were before.

Different, and better.

Then they head out and off to the opening ceremony of the Winter Cup, not looking back once as they do.

yay for more pretty words!!!

“Oh, no worries. The actual motivational part is coming. Anyway, as I was saying – Tōō was just better than us that day. It’s hard to admit, I know: far easier to blame yourself, say you didn’t give it your all, but you know; we all know. It was their day to shine, not ours. But I think we’ve worked hard enough and are in a good enough mindset to change that, today. We aren’t scared or apprehensive about Tōō and Aomine, because we’ve faced them before. We know what attitude they’ll walk into our game with, and that’s what we’re going to exploit!”

“You’re going to exploit,” corrects Tsuchida. “Unlike you, the rest of us aren’t manipulative bastards.”

That raises a bunch of cackles, which quiet down when Izuki gives his team a glare. It doesn’t work on Riko, however, who sniggers under her breath and smirks at him.

izuki highkey sucks at pep talks lmao

chapter 6: ride the storm

Kagami and Aomine were made for each other. Made for this rivalry, this intense competition that will push them to their very limits and carry them onto a plane that no ordinary human can reach. Neither can defeat the other per se - they’re destined to stand neck and neck forever. However, one has a trump card on his side; and that trump card can make all the difference in the world.

Aomine Daiki may be strong, but Kagami Taiga is just as good. And damn him if the power of Kagami’s determination coupled with Kuroko’s unshakeable support won’t overwhelm the undisputed king of basketball.

Move aside, light bulb, Izuki thinks vindictively. The tube light is here to replace you.

pretty words. gay words. i love them (aokaga + izuki being a salt man lmao).

chapter 7: eagle versus aegis

“So bitter,” he [Izuki] reflects aloud, answering Himuro’s question.

That’s the emotion in his eyes. That’s what I might have become, if I had let my anger grow.

And suddenly he isn’t seeing Himuro Tatsuya anymore, but a version of himself, a version with darkened eyes and a mocking smile and pain and rage bubbling below the surface. Immensely talented, but not able to break the last barrier. Because he’s an ordinary man, and it’s as much as an ordinary man can do.

Strong, so strong. But also so terribly, heartbreakingly weak. Weak in a way that today’s Izuki Shun will never be.

GOD where do i even start w/this scene its literally everything i’ve ever wanted to write ksjfhsfj

chapter 8: clawing through mirages

Izuki’s taken aback for a millisecond before he continues his mad dash towards Murasakibara, letting out a war cry as the center makes to simply toss the ball into the hoop.

“It wasn’t their intention,” says a quiet but familiar voice. “But, this is the result of Kiyoshi-senpai and the other upperclassmen’s tenacity.”

Izuki grins, feeling new strength fill him up.

Together, huh? Okay. Together.

“This is where it ends for you!” shouts the voice, becoming stronger.

Not one, but two hands knock the ball out of Murasakibara’s hands and onto the ground. Kuroko shimmers into vision, smiling at Izuki with all the happiness in the world, just as the final buzzer rings.

i loved writing this match tbh, yousen is super underrated!

chapter 9: catch the updraft

21 - 22, in their favour at long last. Izuki grins at Kasamatsu, who shakes his head wearily.

“Using my own advice against me. What a terrible student you are,” he says, affecting an old man’s voice.

“The true student is the one who beats the master at his own game,” Izuki says quickly, sliding back into their familiar banter. “I swore to myself, my drive would beat your drive today, kitakore.”

“When did you get so wise?” asks Kasamatsu with a sigh, ignoring his pun and receiving the ball from Kobori, who was quick to grab it once Koga scored. Izuki just laughs, not bothering to reply and instead focusing carefully on Kasamatsu’s movements.

Kasamatsu shifts his weight right, left, then right again. Izuki narrows his eyes, trying to figure out what the hell his upperclassman is doing—

But it’s far too late, as Kasamatsu successfully passes through his defence in his moment of distraction, ball clutched tightly in hand. The sound of the scoring whistle is shrill and unpleasant to Izuki’s ears, and his chest stings at the loss.

“What was that about the main course?” Kasamatsu teases, wearing an enormous grin as he comes forward to guard Izuki once more.

izuki + kasamatsu banter is so so fun to write y’all have no idea

chapter 10: headwinds

This is your fault. If you’d been a better captain, a better point guard, a better everything, none of this would’ve happened. Seirin would have been well in the lead and controlling the game—

Izuki shakes his head violently, trying to get rid of his intrusive thoughts. He knows he’s a good captain, and doing this to himself will do no good for the rest of the team. He has to be strong for them. He has to lead them to victory, he can’t be a weak person overwhelmed by emotion. But it’s so hard to breathe, suddenly, and Izuki’s about to sink when—

“Don’t worry, Captain. I’ll take care of this match today,” says a confident and familiar voice, and a hand claps down on Izuki’s shoulder. He turns, a little surprised by the sudden contact, to find Koganei’s cat mouth set in a determined frown. “You can rest your hopes on me. I’ll be Seirin’s wings for as long as you need me to.”

kogazuki brotp feels man. kogazuki brotp feels.

chapter 11: cliff edge

Riko nods, sobering up a little. “I do know. And… I have to admit, I was a little harsh on you in the early days… I kept comparing you to Hyūga-kun.” She looks at the ground briefly, then raises her head to continue, meeting Izuki’s eyes with no hint of doubt in her own brown irises. “But then I saw how different you were. How you were never willing to give up, even if you were the worst player in the world. That’s what… that’s what made me truly believe in you.” She swallows thickly, taking a deep breath, but not averting her gaze from his.

The honesty and trust in her eyes is what shatters Izuki’s calm.

He steps forward, and she rises too, opening her arms. Then he hugs her tightly, murmuring, “Thank you for having faith in me.”

The “Of course. You’re family,” that she whispers back fills Izuki’s already overflowing heart even further.

Eventually, he lets her go, and she drops lightly to the ground, straightening her sweater and skirt.

“We never speak of this,” Izuki warns her, moving towards the door of the room.

Riko nods, back to her usual haughty demeanour. “Of course. No one can know we’re actually big softies who care a lot for each other.”

“To them, we’re just sarcastic jerks,” Izuki agrees. “And that’s the way it stays.”

anyone said izuriko brotp???? this fic is just platonic feels tbh

chapter 12: overcast skies

What should I do? Someone tell me! the voice cries out in Izuki’s head, a voice he hasn’t heard since the loss to Tōō. It is the same voice that whispers all his insecurities in his ear in the dead of night when no one is around to reassure him, the same voice that gave rise to all his fears and worries. It is the voice of the vulnerable and weak part of Izuki, the one that needs someone to guide him with a gentle hand, and he hates it.

It is a voice that, frankly, he never thought he would hear again. Yet, here it is, crying out for attention, screaming for someone to help.

He thought he had left it behind. It turns out he was wrong.

Izuki shoves it deep into his heart with more effort than he’s exerted all game, breathing a heavy sigh when he succeeds in locking it behind the glass wall that keeps his emotions away.

let’s hear it for “ceru is a masochist” exhibit 3~

chapter 13: nosedive

“I don’t know who you are,” Koganei completes his little speech, anger brimming in every part of his being. “But I know that my captain is Izuki Shun, not Akashi Seijūrō. The coach can bench you if she likes; we can fight without our captain, because we know he wants us to win for his sake. We’ve been fighting without him all the match, and we can continue doing so. We don’t need a player that can’t play with the same passion as us!”

Izuki looks at the ground and doesn’t respond. Somewhere within, something is stirring at Koganei’s words. Something that cries out to fill the gap inside him.

Next to speak is Kiyoshi, standing up and executing much the same move as Koga had by yanking Izuki up by his collar. However, Kiyoshi pulls Izuki into a standing position so that Izuki is half-leaning against him.

Brown eyes meet black, and Kiyoshi simply states, “I didn’t expect this from you, Shun.”

Then he rears his fist backwards and punches Izuki in the jaw.

“ceru is a masochist” exhibit 4!

chapter 14: bird of prey

“I just… I didn’t think you’d give up so easily.”

Koganei’s head shoots up. There’s fury in his eyes, and his face is white. His hands are shaking.

Izuki continues, calm and careless as he always is, “Really… after you gave me all that talk at halftime? I don’t believe this is you.”

Koganei’s jaw clenches, and he cries, “But I have done everything I can! He’s just too good—��

“And when has that ever stopped you?” Izuki keeps his voice quiet and even, but it has the gravity he intended it to - Koga falls silent immediately, eyes wide and riveted on him. “When have you ever backed down from fighting? You don’t know the meaning of giving up. You’ve never cared about whether someone’s better than you. I knew a shooting guard once, just like you, and he had the potential to be the greatest in the world. He was held back because he cared that he was worse than others. But you? You never blinked at it, just practised and practised until you could do the impossible.”

His words are getting louder with pride; he’s unable to keep it steady with the outpouring of emotion in his speech.

“Tell me, who can master Ray Allen’s form in one and a half years? Who can be such a rookie at basketball, yet be able to fight an Uncrowned King and respond to a shot that has left all its previous victims unable to move?!” Izuki leans forward and jabs a finger into Koganei’s chest demandingly. “Tell me, who the hell was that?!”

“Me,” Koga whispers timidly, looking down.

ahhhh yay for more platonic comfort and bonding. *izuki voice* yelling is the way to get ur team to get their shit tgt

chapter 15: born to soar

Izuki finds himself moving, barely thinking as he grabs the ball and bawls for an attack. He’s running faster than he ever has, flying up the court like there are wings on his legs. No one follows at his pace - they’re all too far behind.

No one but Kiyoshi.

The rhythm beats louder than ever, a heavy pulse in Izuki’s head and heart. He can feel Akashi on his heels and knows he needs to do something.

One second left—

Izuki’s hands move on their own, passing the ball to the one person he knows that he will always find.

Kiyoshi catches it and jumps.

Fortyfivethirtyfivetwentyfivefifteen—

The ball leaves his hands.

Fivezero—

The whistle blows to end the game. Kiyoshi’s shot hits the backboard and drops straight into the basket. Time stops as a shrill sound screeches into the air and the ref shouts, “124 to 123, Seirin High wins the Winter Cup!”

there we go. the most heartwrenching scene of this chapter ahhhhh

chapter 16: final flight

“We should go. Don’t want to keep them waiting too long,” Kiyoshi says, staring daggers at Hyūga, who to his credit doesn’t flinch but merely stares back.

“Let’s go, then,” Izuki agrees. He looks straight at Hyūga and allows a small, formal smile to play on his lips. Hyūga just nods, accepting the answer.

Izuki nods back, then turns around and starts walking away. But even as he moves toward the exit, something weighs heavily in his tired chest. For the first time in a long time, he isn’t confident in his decision.

Acting on impulse, he turns on his heel and yells out, “Call sometime, maybe!” before walking backwards out the door that Kiyoshi holds for him.

It’s an open-ended suggestion. Hyūga can choose to wallow and ignore it, or he can choose to pick up the phone. Izuki isn’t going to do so either way - he’ll be happy if Hyūga makes that call, but he won’t be terribly sad if he doesn't.

This time, he’s going to be the one that walks forward without looking back.

ahhh okay so this scene means a hella lot to me personally because... i had to grow, the way izuki grew. izuki’s now strong enough to sort of put the olive branch out and say, “take it or leave it,” and if it’s left he’s not gonna be upset. that’s something i really learned with a lot of difficulty and i think that that growth - in both me and him - is a lovely thing.

and there we have it! my favorite moments from each chapter of this story. *cries in a corner* god i can’t believe it’s over...

THANK YOU FOR THE JOURNEY!

#knb #izuki #eagles were born to soar #izuday #ceru writes

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