#that’s why I’m a good teacher I can break anything down to fundamentals anyone can understand and reproduce

[butchnavi]

every time someone tells me I’m emotionally intelligent or good at reading people I’m internally like HA. good guess but I’m just a woefully inept person who’s convinced myself to behave like an advanced algorithm that obsessively studies people as data sets and reproduces said data through fine tuned pattern recognition. but like. thanks I guess

[all-my-love-for-harry]

Don’t shout.

summary: Harry doesn't know what to do after he lied to Y/N.

word count: 1.7k

based on these requests:

"fuck i didn’t mean to send that haha okay for ‘shy little boy’ can u do something where yn and harry fight over him going to a girls house while on tour (but she’s a friend) when he gets back home yn ignores him bc she found out n stuff (the kid is not home i can’t remember his name srry) hope this makes sense"

and

"How about when Harry and y/n fight and Artemis thinks they are going to break up but he doesn't want Harry to leave him. I love you writing. Artemis is sooo cute uWu."

and

"hey idk if you’re taking requests but i was wondering if you could do one where you and harry get into an argument where he makes you cry and artemis sees and gets mad at harry and won’t talk to him until harry apologizes to you,, ty !!"

and

"where y/n and harry have there first big fight"

and

"For the my shy little boy series, could you do one where y/n and Harry fight about something and Artemis gets upset at one of them as well?"

a/n: had to change the requests a bit but i hoped they worked together!! I enjoy writing angst so i liked doing this one :)

you can find more of my shy little boy here

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: 

Y/N was never one to pick up a fight. She was the type of person who preferred bottle up her feelings, most of the time. Usually she didn't have drama in her life aside from the occasional four-year-old tantrums and stuff, but then again she hasn't dated anyone in what felt like years. And she has never dated a famous person before, so every day she learned something new.

Like how trust is the most fundamental part of a relationship. She couldn't believe every little thing that was put in the internet about him, as eighty percent of it was all fake information. So she always trusted Harry and waited for his side of things before jumping to any conclusions.

However, this time, she couldn't do that. Not when dozens of pictures of him leaving one of his ex-girlfriend's house with the same clothes from the day before where all over the internet. She couldn't care less about that part, to be honest. What she was hurt about was the fact that Harry told her he was at his hotel and wasn't going to go out that night.

She knew Harry had friends, a lot of them were women. And she was no one to tell him who he could and could not hang out with. What she felt betrayed about was that he lied about it.

Now, Y/N considered herself a very mature person. But this time she allowed to feel angry and ignored every call of Harry's, not being in the mood to talk to him after she saw those pictures.

When he was back to London, he already had figured what was the problem. And he couldn't blame Y/N for ignoring him either, so as soon as he landed, Harry went straight to Y/N's home, determined to give her an explanation.

Y/N opened the door, raising an eyebrow at him but let him in anyway. She turned around and walked to the kitchen, completely ignoring him. Harry closed the door behind him and followed her, knowing her silence was anything but a good sign.

"Where's Artemis?" He asked softly, trying to make small conversation.

"His room." She murmured, raising a glass of water up to her mouth to drink from it.

"Are you mad at me?" He already knew the answer, but he didn't know how to bring up the subject. All he received was a bitter laugh from her. "I'm sorry..."

"For what? Because you lied to me or because you got caught?"

"Caught? Nothing happened, Y/N."

"Then why did you lied to me?!" She almost slammed the glass on the kitchen island, growing really angry. "Why you didn't tell me you were with her?"

"I didn't want you to be mad." He murmured, like a little kid who was being scolded.

"And how do you think i am right now? Uh?" Crossing her arms over her chest, Y/N stared at him. "I trust you, Harry. Every day, all the time. All i ever ask from you is honesty. What happens when i can't even get that?"

Harry panicked for a second, not knowing if she was going to break up with him over this. "Please, tell me how i can make it better."

"Start with telling me why you lied." She demanded. "And don't say because you didn't want to upset me because i'm not buying that. I called you the night before those pictures were taken. You told me you were at your hotel room, was that even true?"

He nodded furiously. "I was at my room when i called you. I swear."

"You told me you were gonna take a shower then you'd call again to wish Artemis a good night, but you never did. Harry, i called you, three times and you didn't answer. Here i was thinking you were so tired of working you fell asleep when in reality you were at you ex's house doing god knows what!" A single tear rolled down her left eye, breaking Harry's heart.

"She called me. She had broken up with her boyfriend and needed a friend." He said. "We drank a little, that's why i couldn't drive back to the hotel. I slept in her couch. Nothing happened, baby, you have to believe me."

"I'm not worried about you cheating, Harry. I worry about you lying to me. How can i trust you if you don't tell me the truth?" More tears fell from her eyes. "I don't want to be that type of girlfriend, but i thought we could tell each other everything."

"And we can, god, we can. I'm sorry, so sorry, baby."

 "Were you still going to tell me even if those pictures didn't come out?" She asked. Her lip was trembling as she waited for him to answer, however, Harry stayed silent. "That's what i thought."

She tried to walk out of the kitchen, but Harry wrapped his hand around her wrist gently, stopping her from leaving. But Y/N was too hurt right now to react properly, so she snapped. "Don't!"

"Mummy?" A much smaller, scared voice was heard, making both adults swallow hard. "Why are you crying?" Artemis was confused when he saw the tears on his mother' face, but then his eyes landed on Harry. Under any other circumstances, he'd jump on his arms, excited he was back home. But he was quick to put two and two together, and he instantly blamed Harry for his mummy's tears. So he furrowed, stepping in front of Y/N to take a good look at her.

"Hey, baby. Were you there long?" Y/N asked him, running a hand through his soft curls. Artemis shook his head. He didn't heard much, and what he heard he didn't understand. Just that his mum was shouting and Harry was apologizing for something. "Let's go back to your room, okay?"

She took his hand and guided him back to his room, staying with him for a little bit to show him she was okay. She knew Harry wouldn't leave, especially not after a fight, but she wasn’t sure she could keep fighting with him once she came out.

Harry made the decision to make lunch for them, hoping Y/N would be willing to talk to him. He knew Artemis was now mad at him too, and Harry felt so bad for upsetting his two loves. God only knows how protective Artemis is of his mum.

He didn’t even know why he couldn’t answer Y/N’s last question. He didn’t think paparazzi would take pictures of him entering and exiting his ex-girlfriend’s house, or that Y/N would react in that way. But he also understood how bad it looked from her perspective.

“You’re still here.” He heard her voice from behind.

“I’d never leave while we’re like this.” Harry turned to look at her, furrowing when he saw her red eyes. “I never meant to upset you.” She nodded, staying quiet. “I know how the world makes it look every time I’m out with someone from the opposite sex, I’ve been targeted as the biggest player for that.”

“Those things are not true.”

“And you know that. But… in my past relationships, they didn’t believe me. They’d automatically assume the worst, that’s why I didn’t want you to find out. I didn’t want the opinion you have of me to change. I’m truly sorry.”

Y/N sighed. She looked at him in the eye and could see how vulnerable Harry was allowing himself to be right now, how honest and regretful his eyes looked.

“You’re a good friend, and a good boyfriend. That’s what I think of you. Harry, you don’t have to lie or hide things from me. I know nothing happened, I trust you in that. Just, please, be honest with me. I don’t want to find out of things when there’s already millions of pictures online, I want to hear the truth from you so we can save arguments like these.”

Harry nodded furiously, again. “I promise, it won’t happen again. I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you.” She stated. Harry walked towards her and pulled her for a tight hug, squeezing her close to his chest and sighing in relief. “But Artemis is kind of upset too.”

“I should go apologize to him too. We shouldn’t have been fighting with him in the house.”

“Go talk to him, I’ll finish this.” She pointed at the almost done meal Harry was cooking.

He obeyed, making his way towards the little boy’s room. The door wasn’t entire closed but he still knocked before entering. “Hey.” He said softly, but Artemis didn’t answer. “I’m sorry you heard that, monkey.”

“You made my mummy cry.” He stated, crossing his little arms across his chest, looking exactly like Y/N while doing it. “You have to apologize.”

“I already did, kiddo. Mummy and I have talked, now I want to say sorry to you, for upsetting you.” Harry knelt in front of him.

“Are you gonna leave?” He said, his mood drastically changed as his eyes filled with tears.

Harry was confused by the question, but was quick to assure him. “Of course not. Everything’s fine, monkey. Adults fight sometimes, but I’m not gonna leave, ever.”

“That’s what my teacher told Susie but her dad doesn’t live with her anymore.” He rubbed his eyes with his little fists, whipping his tears.

“But that’s not us, Artemis. I’m here, do you see? I’m never gonna leave you or your mummy.”

“Promise?” Artemis offered him his right pinky and Harry wrapped his much bigger one around it without hesitation.

“You have my word.”

They hugged, Artemis wrapped his little arms around his neck, applying a little pressure as he was still afraid Harry would leave him. But in response, Harry just squeezed him closer to him. He sat on the floor with Artemis on his lap, letting him calm down as he cooed at him.

“I love you.” Harry barely heard the words, as Artemis spoke above a whisper, still pressed to Harry’s tattooed chest.

But he still heard. And he couldn’t help the dimpled smile from appearing on his face. He loved this boy more than he could ever begin to describe, and the reassurance that the feeling was mutual was always something Harry loved to hear.

He kissed the top of his head, brushing some blonde curls out of his small face so he could look directly at his hazel eyes. “Not as much as I love you.”

☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁

taglist!!

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[spikeface]

rambling about taking pain on teen wolf

I’m 99.999% sure that the writers just used and described this phenomenon however it was expedient for them at the time, but in the spirit of turning it into a somewhat cohesive canon, I’ve been thinking about the evolution of the show’s understanding of what it means, and especially what that means for Theo’s, and to a lesser extent Stiles’, emotional growth.

The phenomenon is first introduced by Deaton, who frames it as a form of painless generosity (“Battlefield”):

DEATON: I know you're well aware of what your new abilities can do for you: improved strength, speed, and healing. You ever wonder what it could do for others?

He doesn’t claim it will do anything but take a little of a dying dog’s pain, but says that that gesture is significant (“a little can make quite a difference”). Incidentally, he is also making boys with abusive fathers/Alphas weep at the realization that they can use their power over small creatures in kind and nurturing ways, because that’s exactly the kind of teacher/father figure Deaton is.

Next up in pain-taking-teaching is Peter, who frames the exact same phenomenon as the pained person taking something from the one helping them (“Alpha Pact”):

PETER: It's that spark of power that makes you an Alpha. When you take her pain, she draws on the power that provides you with those special gifts: the power that heightens your senses, your strength; the power that transforms your body.

Everything for Peter is framed in terms of power and transaction, and crucially, it’s a zero sum game (this is also very similar to the Desert Wolf’s perspective on motherhood in “Apotheosis:” “Talia said it was a gift, that the coyote passes down part of her power to her daughter... I call it ‘theft.’”). Part of Derek’s evolution is not to reject Peter’s framework, but to reject his conclusion. He understands it as giving up power, but doesn’t care about power anymore; he wants to save his sister.

Then, in season 5, Deucalion uses taking pain as a way to consume someone else’s power. This is fascinating! Deucalion has inverted another traditional werewolf thing. He’s made a pack of Alphas, destroyed Betas instead of creating them, and now he turns taking pain into a way to take power instead of giving it up. I think this is why we only ever see Deucalion describe taking pain like this. Unsurprisingly, Theo seems to be his only student, and he understands it “perfectly,” since Theo, like Deucalion, is used to breaking the rules/norms of the supernatural world. It’s very significant to me that Theo subsequently takes pain from Josh, Tracy, and even the Beast. The boy can do it! He just does it in this toxic way that represents everything awful about his pre-Hell outlook on life.

Because, of course, after he comes back, Theo can’t anymore. Mason sees this and claims that it’s because Theo doesn’t care--and certainly, caring seems to be fundamental when Deaton introduces it. That’s why, I think, Isaac does it before anyone has explained the phenomenon (Deaton and Scott only explain afterwards); he wants this dog not to be in pain, so he automatically takes it. But! Crucially! Mason is wrong; caring is not required. Theo has taken pain before, and it wasn’t from a place of empathy.

I think Theo is unable to take pain from Mason post-Hell because he only understands taking pain in this toxic way still, and he’s genuinely trying to move away from it. I imagine him thinking to himself, “Okay, Theo, you got this. Just take pain. Don’t do it as part of this lethal consumption of everything Mason is. Don’t eat this boy who represents everything you’re not, the Doctors’ greatest success, at one point the Beast himself. Don’t. Do. It.” 

And, of course, nada. This means, ironically, that Theo can’t take pain anymore not because he doesn’t care but because he does -- he’s trying not to hurt Mason, which is the only way he’s used taking pain before. This shifts Theo’s arc, but to one that I think makes more sense for him. Theo has, imo, always cared--always wanted a pack, and human connection--just in a toxic, destructive way. His redemption arc is learning not to care but how to care, and that’s bound up in learning how to use his skills, which he previously used to hurt people, to help them instead. This fits his friendship with Liam, where he learns to use his ability to manipulate to walk Liam back from the ledge of his anger (when Liam is about to kill Gabe), and use his previously weaponized understanding of the human psyche to helpfully explain to Liam how his fear converts to anger and how emotional triggers work (at the zoo). By the end, Theo has learned how to use his powers for good, essentially, and is in a place where he can confidently take pain from Gabe without also consuming him. Gabe is a fitting recipient for this because, like Theo, he also cares very deeply--he does try to help Nolan--but his caring is ultimately (self-)destructive and doomed.

The last way we see taking pain come up is as a way to spark the healing process, which reverses the initial catalyst for it: causing more pain. Causing pain, it seems, does actually spark the healing process, as we learn from people steeped in old guard werewolf knowledge like Derek and Noshiko. But! That’s not the only way of doing things, and it might not work if the person is already in overwhelming pain. The first person to stumble upon this is Malia, who comes up with it all on her own as a way to help Corey (in “Lie Ability”). This is a fitting symbolic move for Malia, who has been left to come up with her own approach to life as the abandoned orphan of two very toxic parents. In her worst moments, she turns to violence that would make her parents proud. In her best, she thinks of, with almost no awareness of the context, creative alternatives to traditional ways of doing things.

The second instance of taking pain as a catalyst for healing is with Hayden and Liam, after Liam has been hurt by the Beast (“Maid of Gevaudan”). At that point, Stiles represents the old guard knowledge:

STILES: Okay, okay. Okay. Scott did this with pain. He could trigger it. Uh... pain makes you human. HAYDEN: He's already in pain! STILES: Right! Okay, but maybe adding a little more could help take away the pain?

I love Hayden for hearing that advice and immediately rejecting it. Here, Liam and Hayden recall Allison and Scott and the general theme of season one. Allison rejects almost all traditional Argent wisdom in loving Scott. Here, Hayden rejects traditional werewolf wisdom in loving Liam. Causing Liam pain to help him when he’s already in overwhelming agony sounds dumb! She’s going to take pain away instead--and it works! Turns out, some traditions are limiting or even bad and the kids will come up with new, better ways of doing things!

What I really love about this moment is that the old way of doing things is represented here by Stiles, who indirectly quotes Derek’s most destructive philosophy when he says, “Pain makes you human.” Stiles’ entire approach to life is almost always about causing and feeling pain with, I think, largely good intentions. Like the cause-pain-to-start-healing idea, this can work! His willingness to hurt himself and others helps him be brave, and protect people, and make hard decisions he thinks are necessary. But causing pain won’t help anyone past a certain point, when someone is already in a lot of it, and nowhere is this more evident than in Stiles’ arc in season 5. 

Stiles starts that season in a lot of pain, most of which imho stems from the nogitsune (which also presented a funhouse mirror version of siphoning pain where the nogitsune “ate” the pain instead, which Stiles experienced). Stiles’ paranoia about Theo and angst about Scott trusting him is, to me, a sign that Stiles is very much not healed from the events of 3b, where Stiles watched (and was forced to enjoy) Scott trusting the nogitsune and paying for it with a sword twisting in his guts and that pain-eating. His explosive “you trust everyone!” is really about how Scott trusted Stiles when he shouldn’t have (because he was the nogitsune), though Stiles can’t bring himself to say that for many reasons. Most of his distrust of Theo, I think, can be explained by the nogitsune--Stiles claims, after all, that Theo “isn’t Theo,” the same way Stiles wasn’t Stiles when he was the nogitsune. 

But Stiles’ response to his pain from the nogitsune is to lash out at himself and others, which helps exactly no one. In season 5, Stiles is now constantly presented with the lesson that hurting himself and others ultimately won’t help heal anyone, especially himself. He lashes out at seemingly-innocent Theo and it doesn’t help. He hurts his hand and it doesn’t help. He hurts his car and it doesn’t help. He beats Theo up and it doesn’t help. He hurts Scott at the hospital and it doesn’t help. Like Theo, Stiles is in a self-destructive tailspin, where tactics that have worked before are only driving him further and further into isolation and darkness (tempered only by Scott’s endless forgiveness and his father’s blind love, a topic for another day). The climax for this is, for me, when he’s trying to find Lydia in the tunnels with Theo (in “Lie Ability”). Stiles is doing a fantastic job of hurting Theo (who, to be fair, is a little punk who deserves it!), but is forced to realize that unless he quits that and actually does something constructive with Theo, Lydia is going to die. 

But I don’t think he really understands what he’s doing, or conceives of any alternative to it, until the moment with Liam and Hayden, where he essentially voices his philosophy for the first time: pain defines being human as opposed to a werewolf (a sentiment that recalls his rant to Scott about being human), and causing pain is helpful. Stiles watches Hayden reject this, and sees how taking pain away is a much better way to initiate healing. After an initial smile at Hayden’s success, Stiles’ expression, even as he makes a joke about doing things differently (“I’ll kiss him next time”) is extremely morose (see below), as he realizes, for I think the first time, that he’s going to have to find a better way of doing things or he’s just going to be causing more pain. I think this arc is part of what causes him to work with Peter in season 6, after naming him as the epitome of irredeemable evil in season 5.

[miyalove]

Hi! Can you do an Oikawa x reader when he first went to Argentina and doesn't know Spanish? Reader can be from or have lived in Argentina for a long time to at least know spanish. Thank you! 😁

—pairing: timeskip!oikawa x reader

—warnings: manga spoilers, teasing, dialogue in bold is spoken in spanish, *unedited

—synopsis: 1.5k | you have a small sit down with oikawa to try and help him learn argentina’s native language: spanish.

—a/n: thank you for requesting, anonie! hope this didn’t take too long and it’s too your likings! please, come again somtimes, yeah? + request are open!

on top of team practices, solo training, management meetings, team bonding, and publicity shoots; oikawa tooru is now assigned to learn Spanish.

he’s already a busy man and barely has time to rest. when given certain days off, he can’t help but think about how much time he’s wasting on not practicing.

it’s times like these when his teammates have to physically rip him away from the sport. he’s dedicated and ambitious, anyone can see that but over-working himself is never good. he can’t help how anxious he gets when he’s not keeping himself distracted.

with that in mind, his manager had assigned him to learn (at the very least) the basics. every time he has a day off or some free time oikawa found himself repeating basic conversational phrases. things like “hello”, “yes”, “no”, “thank you”, and “goodbye”.

however the longer he stayed in Argentina the more he realized that those fundamental sayings weren’t getting him very far. voicing his concern to his manager, they thought what better way to learn efficiently than hiring a tutor?

and thus here you are, quite literally babysitting a six foot child.

“(y/n), how are you so good at this! i can barely pronounce these things” he’s whining your name. big brown eyes look up at you with some kind of desperation.

the two of you are in his dorm room sitting at his desk that is tucked way in the corner of the abnormally large dorm. there’s textbooks scattered all over, all with Spanish titles on them. oikawa sits to your left with a notebook opened up and a pencil in hand.

“it’s really different from japanese pronunciations so don’t beat yourself over not getting it that well,” he’s thankful that you’re not getting angry with him. you can see it when he smiles at you. that same determined gleam showing up in his hues when he talks about winning volleyball matches.

you can’t help but add on to your reassurance, “i believe in you, tooru!” you shoot him a wide grin, your eyes smile with you.

the setter feels his cheeks grow hot. it isn’t a big deal that you’re using his first name mostly because that’s how introduction are like here in Argentina so you probably think nothing of it like most people. he just can’t help the pink flush he gets whenever someone as cute as you calls out to him though.

“you’re always so sweet to me, (y/n),” he lets you take in his shining smile, “alright, let’s try it again.” he beams at you, shooting you a thumbs up.

“we’ll do informal form alright? i feel like you have that down a little better than formal.” he nods clearly getting impatient but still continues to listen to your demands.

letting out a reassuring sigh, you begin with something easy, “hello, what is your name?” gesturing for oikawa to speak, he nods brows furrowing, “hello, my name is tooru and yours?”

you feel a sense of satisfaction when oikawa answers back without any pronunciation errors. he sounds like a robot with how choppy he replies back to you. you make a mental note to work on his tone and flow later before pushing that aside, “very good, tooru. my name is (y/n). how are you?” 

this is when the conversation begins to slow. he knows you’re asking him a question because of the way your voice raised at the end of your speech. the next thing to think is what question are you asking exactly. 

he recalls the basic questions you and him went over. things like ‘what do you like to do in your free time?’ or ‘what do you do for a living?’ but for some reason the one your asking isn’t ringing any bells.

looking back at you, he sees your encouraging eyes meet his. he can’t help but to stare at how they glow in the low dorm lighting. you’re pleading with him, silently telling him ‘you got this!’. 

you part your plush lips planning to guide in with some kind of hint but before you can say anything, oikawa is quick to react. a single digit covers your mouth, gently telling you to stay quiet.

he’s got this, just like you told him. he wasn’t going to let you down... just give him a little time. like a sudden snap in a silent room, the thought comes to him again.

“good! good! ... and you?” 

he felt the way he messed up that last syllable. he quickly glanced your way wanting to see if you caught it too. his eyes meet yours. playing on your lips is a smirk and know oikawa knowns you defiantly picked it out. 

of course you would, he thinks to himself, you’re literally fluent in the damn language. slightly discouraged, you see his shoulder drop as he breaks the eye contact. as a teacher whose taught many, these are clear signs of giving up.

so you sigh, “let’s take a break, yeah?” you turn your attention to a wall clock, “we’ve been at this for two hours already.”

“yeah, sure. i can do a break,” there’s a sudden shift in oikawa’s demeanor. standing up from the desk chair he makes a turn for his bed plopping down face first into his sheets. simultaneously, he let’s out a loud grunt.

“this ‘learning a new language’ thing is incredibly hard,” his voice is muffled by the pillows but you can still her the annoyed pout he has on. 

stacking up the basic Spanish books into a pile you let out a light giggle, “yeah, especially when you have added stress on you. what time’s your practice again, tooru?” 

“in about,” he looks up at the clock, “...five more hours. why? what’s up, miss (l/n).” 

even with his face half covered by his you can see that cunning smirk from across his room. you mock his gesture but with far more ridicule in your grin than his own, “do you really want to play this game?”

shooting up, he excitedly nods as if not even ten minutes ago he wanted nothing more than to give up, “bring it, (y/n).” shooting you a sly wink, a pink hue spreads across your cheeks. you can feel the heat crawl across your face but you push it aside deciding beating oikawa is far more important than what that wink makes you feel.

“how are you, tooru?”

“good. and... you?” 

there’s no mispronunciation, and he finds himself puffing up his chest at his small victory.

“excellent! very good, tooru. now, what are some things that you like?”

oikawa knew what you were expecting. a mundane response that the two of you worked on like ‘i like volleyball’ or even ‘i like milk bread’. what you didn’t know is that despite you tutoring him for a few weeks back-to-back, he’s been having his own private lessons with google and youtube.

there’s no doubt in his mind that he likes you. in fact, every time his name rolls off your tongue he gets all flushed. don’t even get him started on how you shift closer to him when you’re reading the textbook aloud and then reiterating the idea back to him. 

he can smell your vanilla shampoo and can’t help but imagine how it would be so much easier for you to teach him if you just sat on his lap. he’d get to engulf himself in you and you’re short enough to see pass and focus on the textbook too. it’s a win-win situation. standing up from his sheets, he makes his way towards you.

you expected a practiced answer from oikawa but definitely not, “i like your smile.” and you definitely don’t expect him to continue either, “i like your laugh. i like your face.” 

without a second thought, you try to interrupt him. wave of his near confession as if it never happened, but he doesn’t let that happen. in fact, he can’t. so he lays his slender finger back onto your lips, silencing you once again.

he leans in close and you can see every detail on his face. his long, pretty lashes that frame is hazel eyes flawlessly to his delicate lips that with you, always have a smile on them. you can’t help but stare at how pretty he is.

“... and i like you, (y/n).”

you’re quick to respond not allowing yourself to lose this ‘spanish-off’ to someone with far less experience than you. 

“you’re lucky you’re cute, tooru.”

tooru doesn’t back off from how close he is to you. in fact, with his next words he finds himself unconsciously doing the opposite. his words come out in a whisper, “so you think i’m cute?” 

“yes,” matching his own teasing grin, you give him a wink before finally closing the distance. kissing oikawa tooru is like waking up on christmas morning; exciting and something you were far to eager to do. a warmth spread in your chest and your hands comb through his brown locks while his much larger palms find purchase on your hips.

the two of you stay like that for a while only pulling back when you need air, “and i also think i won.” reminding him of the game he challenged you in, he groans aloud. pulling you down with him in defeat as he throwing himself back on his bed again.

“well... losing never felt so good, miss (l/n).”

[scripttorture]

Can a parent who is a torturer teach his child to become a torturer since childhood, but not teaching it as torture, but the techniques involved, and well, violence and abuse. Is it normal that the child is not being abused himself?? Or would such a parent torture their child if they wanted the child to grow up to become a torturer and take their place one day.

Torturers ‘teach’ on the job. I’m not sure if it would be possible for them to teach these techniques without exposing someone to violence.

 And even if it was that isn’t what they do.

 They bring the people they want to ‘teach’ into the cells with them. They have potential-torturers witnessing torture (and encourage them to participate) from the first day.

 And here’s the thing: this makes sense. It makes sense because torture is functionally simple and because it applies social pressure to the potential-torturer. It makes it harder for them to refuse to torture and implies that they will be at risk of violence if they do.

 The scenario you’re suggesting fundamentally misunderstands torture and torturers. You’re assuming that this stuff is more complex then it is and that torturers are more patient, thoughtful and restrained then they are.

 All of those are common misconceptions that feed into torture apologia.

 It’s OK to be wrong. The important thing now is the next decision you make; where you go from here.

 Child torturers are rare. And while I have heard of cases where children were abusers or torturers I’ve never heard of a case where a parent tried to encourage their biological child to become a torturer.

 There’s quite a lot to unpack and explain there so bear with me while I break this down.

 Child torturers are rare because generally children are not put in positions of authority, and the torturer being in a position of authority is an essential part of the legal definition of torture. Children are not (usually) allowed to become police officers, soldiers, doctors, civil servants, teachers or any of the other professions torturers are drawn from.

 There are ethical reasons for that but there are also practical reasons for it. Children do not make good soldiers. They are typically weaker then adults, have more complex nutritional needs, have shorter attention spans, cope less well with sleep deprivation and are not as good at performing repetitive tasks without fault.

 They are harder to train as soldiers, less physically able to act as soldiers and harder to keep at a base standard of health in a warzone.

 I am not saying children are incapable of torture: I am saying that they are not given the opportunity.

 The cases that I’m aware of involving child torturers are uniformly child soldiers. Usually those children are kidnapped and enslaved. They are not the biological (or adopted) children of the other torturers.

 Sometimes these children are deliberately drawn from despised minority groups. For instance the Daesh use of kidnapped Yezidi boys on suicide missions was part of a wider campaign of genocide.

 Sometimes these children are encouraged to take part in torture as part of strategy to make these children feel like they can’t return home. They’re made to participate in violent criminal acts then told that they will never be forgiven by their society. This is part of how these groups coerce cooperation from their victims.

 So child torturers are rare and the children who are usually in a position where they could be classed as torturers are generally not valued by the groups using them.

 This makes me think that a valued, blood-related child would be less likely to be used as a torturer.

 There’s also the question of why a torturer would want their child to follow in their footsteps.

 Because torturers generally do not enjoy what they do. They report finding the experience distressing and exhausting.

 Some of them frame it as ‘necessary’ and genuinely seem to believe they were doing something helpful. (This is not true, torture does not work). Some of them frame it as a punishment their victims ‘deserved’. Some of them don’t really seem to have much justification at all, everyone else was doing it so they did too.

 But as a general rule torturers don’t report having a positive view of their own job. The typical relationship is more complex.

 They have an inflated sense of their own importance and the importance of their job. They often depict themselves as the ‘only ones doing the real work’ and talk/act as though they’re the most important part of the organisation they’re in.

 But they also report feeling consistently under-valued and overlooked by their organisations. They consistently describe a hugely stressful, pressurised working environment and an atmosphere of continued, unhealthy competition with everyone else.

 Torturers do not take enjoyment in their work. They report finding it physically exhausting, extremely stressful and the development of mental health problems associated with torture.

 They often feel as though they’re at risk of violence from their colleagues and superiors. And they’re not wrong. Looking over modern historical records of regimes like Soviet Russia show that torturers were regularly purged by the state. And the fracturing effect they have on organisations is sometimes enough for them to be attacked by other members of their organisation.

 When this doesn’t happen they burn out. They reach a point where their mental and physical health problems become so severe they can’t even pretend to do the job they were hired for. And then they’re dropped, or ‘encouraged’ to quit.

 They struggle to find any employment. Because by that point they typically have really severe mental illnesses and no useful skills. Plus the general aura of asshole that comes with an inflated sense of self importance and a tendency to lash out at anyone who doesn’t feed that ego. A lot of them end up dependant on other people.

 Basically- I don’t think any torturer would want someone they value to become a torturer.

 Even when torturers see their ‘work’ as essential they don’t see it as a good job. They’re acutely aware of the dangers and the toll it takes on them.

 If this character actually cares for their child at all they’d probably discourage them from being a torturer.

 I think that leaves two broad questions: ‘Do torturers abuse their families?’ and ‘Are torturers typically torture survivors themselves?’

 And neither of those questions have clear answers because of the lack of research on torturers.

 There are reports of torturers who abused their families. But there are so few reports by mental health professionals on torturers that it really is impossible to say if this is a trend. And there are also reports of torturers who never abused their families. Familial abuse by torturers could be in line with familial abuse in the general population.

 There is no evidence to suggest torturers are any more or less likely to abuse their families then anyone else.

 The second question is more complicated because of the assumptions underlying it: people who ask this generally seem to assume that someone who is tortured goes on to become a torturer and…. That isn’t exactly what we see these people reporting.

 Yes some torturers are also torture survivors. Because a lot of them are soldiers and sometimes captured soldiers are tortured.

The pattern I tend to see reported (this is anecdotal because of the lack of research on torturers-) is torturers getting captured after they’ve been torturers for a while. Either by their own side or an opposing side in the context of a conflict. Then they’re tortured.

 Or their area is invaded by an opposing side, they flee the conflict and get targeted with… exactly the same stuff everyone else fleeing the same situation is targeted with.

 The child soldiers I described earlier in the ask seem to be particularly vulnerable to torture and other ill treatment.

 We don’t have a way to measure how many torturers have also been tortured. By which I mean, no one has really done enough research to answer that question.

 The vast majority of torture survivors will never go on to become torturers, because they won’t be put in a position of authority. Mentally ill people are systematically barred from positions of authority in most places. And torture survivors seem to be particularly vulnerable to unemployment.

 So I think torture survivors are unlikely to be put in a position where they could become torturers.

 But, yes torturers are sometimes put in a position where they might become torture victims. We don’t know how often this happens. My impression is that it’s no where near the majority, may be not even a particularly significant minority (though it seems to be more common in some specific areas/circumstances then others).

 Wrapping up: I don’t think it’s a good idea to have a torturer also be a torture survivor in this sort of narrative. I think that’s an incredibly complicated thing to try and handle and I don’t think you’ve got the knowledge base to do it justice yet. I also don’t think it adds anything to the characters as you’ve described them.

 There is no ‘safe’ way to expose someone to torture. Torturers do not try to protect the people they ‘train’, they throw them in at the deep end and encourage them to participate almost straight away.

 But torturers also don’t necessarily see their jobs as ‘good jobs’. They don’t describe it as a legacy they want to pass on.

 Why is it important that this child is actively taught? Could they be exposed to or witness torture in another context? Is it even important that the torturer is their parent? Using another influential adult character would allow the child to keep a more-or-less positive relationship with their parent. And it could make the conflict between child and parent about ‘You allowed this torturer access to me and they showed me awful, traumatising things’ rather then ‘You exposed me to traumatising things and you hurt me’.

 Does familial abuse add to this narrative? Because I’d argue that exposing a child to torture is abusive and it creates another layer of complexity. On top of torture, and the peculiar mindset of torturers, and the mental health problems torture causes in survivors, torturers and witnesses.

 Think about those questions. Go back to the sources page. Read O’Mara’s Why Torture Doesn’t Work and the appendices to Fanon’s The Wretched of the Earth. Read Alleg’s The Question.

 And consider whether these elements actually help you to tell the story.

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[archival-account-2]

definition and refinement; in the heart of an artist. | keiji akaashi [headcanons]

❛ 𑁍 pairing: keiji akaashi x female!artist!reader

❛ 𑁍 scenario: in fukoradani academy; in the art club (school studio); in the volleyball court

❛ 𑁍 warning: none because it's a fluff; y'all haven't seen the coffee sachets i consumed

❛ 𑁍 note (i): my head isn't a healthy headspace because the brown coffee + sugar + black sugar i consumed today; y'all better expect like a train is gonna hit you off the rails because i didn't went easy with this one; of course, i tried to keep keiji akaashi in character, so please patient as i am adjusting his personality with my writing style (it’s fun writing new things)

❛ 𑁍 requested by: @schoneelise

🡪 you are one of the school prominent artists not because you're the vice president of the art club (your senpai is a third-year) but because you're presence is always defined no matter where you are.

🡪 did someone saw that cutie in a red berret? yeah, that's you, sketching in one of the notebooks you brought.

🡪 oh, did someone also saw that dolly in a skirt with van gogh's starry night masterpiece? yep, defintely, that's you, admiring your juniors' art in their studio while giving them advice.

🡪 anways, moving on; your senpai, (s/n), is very good friends with kotaro bokuto, the colleyball captain of the fukorodani volleyball club. (s/n) comes to their friend's practice by themselves but one day, you're intrigued with the way they were acting.

🡪 it was as if they were jittery and were kept on their toes. did something happen without your knowledge?

(s/n): they almost had it... they almost had it!

(y/n): ... senpai?

(s/n): if keiji didn't mess it up, he could have-

(y/n): sennpai, are. you. okay???

🡪 your kind concern reconvened your senpai's attention toyou, who almost looked petrified. (s/n) apologized for their erratic behavior and explained the situation.

🡪 long story short: fukorodani would facing off against the schools in tokyo in less than one week, and they don't have enough time to practice the new combo they conjured up.

🡪 you, being the supportive type, decided to come with your senpai. they were more than happy to have you tagging along. besides, it seemed like you needed something to be your next inspiration.

🡪 wow. the tension in the court... is just... wow.

🡪 boy, did the sound of balls bouncing off the floor and walls made you rethink your decision. what if you're going to lose an arm? what if you're going to get a concussion? is the place even safe for behaving people?

(s/n): relax. they know where they're gonna hit.

🡪 you're almost believing your senpai when a ball narrowly missed your head by a hair. a hair... a. hair.

🡪 poor you... you almost dropped your art things on the floor and fainted right after that.

keiji: not that high, bokuto-san. you almostt hurt (s/n)-san.

(s/n): actually... you almost obliterated my vice president, (y/f/n).

🡪 you were, by all means of surprise, a forgiving type of person, so you kindly and simply brushed it off with a shy wave of dismissal and a smile.

(y/n): no, it's fine! in fact, it kinda impressed me that it can go that fast and strong. er, good job!

🡪 let's just say, the volleyball captain became very fond of you at the very instant.

🡪 and his vice captain? he's intrigued, to say the least.

🡪 after one strenous match (that scared you most of the time and had to shift multiple times), they finally had a break. your senpai walked over to kotaro and chatted with him, shooting the breeze as the other players attended to their needs.

🡪 while the game was nearing to an end earlier, you finally moved to the most comfortable spot: almost to the corner,  underneath a window. you set your artist's satchel beside you in peace (at last) and made new sketches that were inspired by your new surroundings: the court ceilings, the net from your perspective, the rapid movement of rubber shoes, the accelerated ball and it's awesome momentum.

🡪 you were having your own fun in your own newfound place, and you like the fact you had something new to draw about.

🡪 now, during the ten-minute break, keiji akaashi, the vice captain, noticed that you were gone... well, that was until he saw you sitting by yourself.

🡪 you were sitting cross-legged; your sketchpad on your lap; your mechanical pencil scraping the paper as it draws; your head bending down with your eyes focused on the task at hand.

🡪 keiji walked over to you quietly, making sure his tall presence won't startle you. but since you were so immersed, you didn't even pay any attention to anything else. so, he stood before you, bent over, and looked down at your sketchpad.

keiji: it's really pretty.

🡪 you almost threw your pencil five feet in the air from the sudden, accidental scare.

(y/n): oh, um... thanks... but does it really?

keiji: yeah.

🡪 from then on, you and keiji hang out like good buddies every other time after his practice and after your duties in the art club were done for the day.

🡪 however, on one hand, it would be you who would come by the court and proceed with your habit to sketch the surroundings. but, on the other hand, it would keiji who would finish early and drop by the art club (without announcing his presence because of his frequent visits), watching you work behind your back as you work on an easel or laptop (for digital arts).

🡪 of course, during the times you two would spend the time, keiji would give you meaningful advice on how to make your pieces more attractive and more aesthetic-looking.

🡪 surprisingly, they worked so well! in fact, so well that your (s/n) would tease you about keiji being the better mentor than themselves.

(s/n): i guess (y/n)-chan doesn't need me at all... she had found a better teacher... much worse, he's in the volleyball club. oh, the horror!

(y/n): but you taught me the fundamentals, though... senpai, you're being melodramatic again.

🡪 in case you haven't noticed it yet, you're the type of artist who can quickly adapt to another artstyle without sacrificing your own. you are a fast learner type and that was because you believe improvement knows no speed.

🡪 you always work hard to make your pieces expressive, eloquent, and emotional. with your ardent passion to adapt to functional styles, it's no wonder why you can cope up with keiji's suggestions without thinking about it.

🡪 keiji, in turn, would be surprised. but he would only retain that notion only to himself. he couldn't bear to admit that verbally.

🡪 he's not big on evoking emotions or feelings easily; he prefers to keep a calm, relaxing, and unmoving personality everytime he's around crowds.  

🡪 but there was one thing he couldn't do: he couldn't stop his own eyes from expressing from what he truly felt in the inside.

🡪 whenever he saw you drawing something that seemed better than he liked it to be, keiji would give you a nod of his head and simply motioned for you to continue with a wave of his hand. but then you would give him a quick-second glance, and his eyes said, 'it's really amazing. please do more'.

🡪 other times, when you eagerly show him your work, a side of his lips would tug slightly upwards. but it would quickly disappear as it appeared. you didn't fail to spot it, though, and you felt super proud you're able to make keiji elicit an expression of happiness.

🡪 so, one day... your art teacher dropped the bomb: you, art students of the art club, have to draw still-life.

🡪 but not just any still life. no, it had to be still life with the theme, "classically contemporary".

🡪 well... well.. you need to think fast or else your grades will drop to a 'c-' or a 'b+'. and you're a straight 'a+' student in arts, so you can't let this drop-

keiji: what's going on with that head of yours?

🡪 you're hanging out in the court this time, and keiji was on a break (thank heavens; kotaro just made them run twenty-five laps around the gym as 'cool down').

🡪 you explained you thick dilemma and keiji said you shouldn'y overthink it too much because that'll "bench you out until the time is up".

🡪 you took his solemn advice with a grain of salt and thought it through as the second round of practice commenced. before you knew it, you finally made your decision and you're excited to keiji about it.

🡪 but the question is: would he like it?

(y/n): akaa-

keiji: keiji.

(y/n): um, keiji! i finally know what i'm going to do!

keiji: good. can you tell me what it is, then?

(y/n): can you be my model?

🡪 him? akaashi keiji? a model? for someone's project? esepcially that 'someone' was you?

🡪 gosh, he really didn't know how to respond, so he just simply looked at you with the most unreadable face ever. it made you contemplate if you had upset him or something...

(y/n): keiji... um, you know... it's fine if you don't want to my subject. i can just go and ask some of my other friends if they want.

🡪 next day rolled around and you still haven't asked any of your friends yet. that's because you had a hunch they had found their own models and muses in the earliest nick of time.

🡪 sad to be you right now.

🡪 so while the others were working with their newfound partners, you were simply minding your own business by setting the 'still life' background/setting of your work, thinking it might lighten the load while you're still looking for the right person.

(s/n): (y/n).

(y/n): y-yeah? senpai?

(s/n): why is keiji dressed like he's about to revive a shogunate?

🡪 good lord.

🡪 it had to be kotaro's idea.

🡪 it just had to be.

🡪 akaashi-freaking-keiji cannot just waltz inside the art studio dressed in a yukata with a semi-real sword strapped across his waist. no, no, no, no, nope-

🡪 it looked so out of his element, to be honest. like... he wasn't born to wear it because his face conveyed the most unamused expression to ever live. he looked like he was forced to get inside the costume. but how could anyone coerce this serious man to even wear that?

🡪 but you know what?

🡪 he looked really dashing, to be honest.

🡪 really, really dashing.

(s/n): ... this is the art studio, not the drama theater.

keiji: i know. i'm here for (y/n)...

🡪 did. you. hear. that. right?

🡪 or what he just said rendered you deaf?

🡪 anyways, anyways, anyways. here's the breakdown of how the hell akaashi keiji ended up wearing a yukata with the matching sword.

🡪 he admitted to kotaro that you asked him to be your model. kotaro nearly gave him the most memorable slap ever because he lowkey rejected you. as his punishment, kotaro got in contact with one of the drama peeps he's friends with and ordered to his friend the most amazing yukata they have in the closet with matching sword. (so it was definitely his idea; no wonder why akaashi looked slightly pissed). while akaashi thought it was a waste of time and called kotaro out for being impulsive, he also thought... what's the freaking big deal?

🡪 what is he overthinking about? there's nothing to put his mind heavily on the matter. the only thing he's going to do is sit still and look handsome for the artist. is that the hardest job in the world?

🡪 his answer came to him when he sat down on a stool and posed for (y/n): it's not the hardest job at all. besides, he's not always on energizer bunnies and he's barely hyper when he's sitting down. so... i think he's doing a great job~

🡪 (y/n), in turn, is having the best fun of her life.

🡪 she's sketching one of her bosom friend for one her important projects.

🡪 she's taking her sweet, sweet, sweet time sketching keiji on the digital easel and before they both knew it, the draft was done!

🡪 it only took them seven hours, though.

🡪 keiji missed his volleyball practice and it was past their curfews.

🡪 but neither of them mind. while some students really did stay put (wow, the dedication), keiji and (y/n) decided to go home at once.

🡪 but only after keiji changed into his uniform again.

🡪 he cannot be seen in a yukata.

🡪 his dignity relies on his appearance somehow.

🡪 once he's done, both of them walked home since their houses were just walking distances.

(y/n): you actually looked really nice in the yukata, keiji.

keiji: thank you, (y/n). although it was just forced on me.

(y/n): nonetheless, you appeared very dream-like back there.

🡪 something blossomed in keiji's chest. was it deep appreciation for the meaningful compliments? was it earnest regard to how he had behaved and look for your project? whatever it is... he's not going to deny it in any way. but then again, he's not going to say anything about it.

keiji: is that so?

(y/n): gosh, yes! you're a lifesaver back there, you know.

🡪 you spent the night polishing the whole thing and it continued for the rest of the week.

🡪 keiji, being an understanding and considerate type, didn't step in your way except when to remind you about eating lunch and going home earnestly.

keiji: (y/n), eat your lunch first.

keiji: (y/n), brush your hair before sitting down.

keiji: (y/n), time to go home.

keiji: (y/n), rest your eyes.

🡪 one week after your final draft, you passed it to your teacher just in time.

🡪 of course, to compensate to keiji's volunteerism and efforts to keep you alive (barely) last week, you treated to lunch on you.

keiji: i have my own bento, (y/n).

(y/n): but mine has more meat than that,

keiji: ... fine. let me have it, please.

🡪 after a hearty lunch, keiji walked you to the art club. (of course, there was no competition but the grades matter-)

sensei: all of your artworks deserve to be in a museum. but, to be honest, out of the rest, i think (y/n)'s piece deserved a seat right next to da vinci's.

🡪 god bless keiji for being there or else you could have lost all senses then gained a concussion from fainting.

🡪 your still life, turned out, to be the one that stood out the most.

sensei: how did you pull this off, (y/n)? who... who taught you?

🡪 you squinted at your work and noticed the changes you never paid attention to at all. while you retained your own original art style of 'still life', there were some compositions that seemed brand new.

(y/n): keiji-kun taught me.

🡪 you said it with so much pride that keiji actually smiled.

🡪 smiled.

🡪 he smiled the most genuine smile he could ever muster.

🡪 (damn, kotaro is missing in action right now.)

🡪 you got the highest grade among your classmates + your (s/n) congratulated you wholeheartedly. they even said, "you might even be the next president in the art club!"

🡪 you laughed and accepted their compliment.

keiji: maybe next time, you should draw me in a hakama.

🡪 now, should you? only kotaro knows the answer.

❛ 𑁍 note (ii): y’all want actual fanfic of this thing??? dm me/ask me, comment and reblog this, then, so i would know. hope you like this~

[the-final-sif]

Just read you recent think on Mitsuki, and while I agree with some things, you're forgetting a lot. Like how Mitsuki is so ready to trust UA cuz Aizawa seems to understand Katsuki. Or how, in the first ep flashback, Katsuki just got praise for his 'stupid awesome quirk' without deserving that praise. Or, you know, how Katsuki got to the point in middle school where he was telling Izuku to jump off a building? And the sports festival? Katsuki probably would have laughed if it hadn't been him.

I’m not forgetting any of that, they’re all things that have been taken into consideration and either aren’t important to the situation, or are part of what I’m talking about.

To break this down,

1)

I don’t care if she thinks that UA “understands” Katsuki, her child was kidnapped and held hostage for 2 days, and forced to fight for his life multiple times against several adult villains. The only thing that stopped the villians from murdering/torturing/turning Katsuki into a nomu/etc, was that they decided not to during that 2 day period. Even if she’s willing to forgive UA/Aizawa and understands that the situation was bad by all accounts, she could still show at least a little concern for her child’s physical and mental safety after he was kidnapped. The idea that she really believes a school “understanding” Katsuki and not praising him too much is more important then the fact he got kidnapped for and was held by villains for 2 days, speaks volumes on it’s own.

Also, it’s worth noting that Aizawa and UA do not understand Katsuki. They fail him multiple times, and call out in canon that they did so. Including; The Sports Festival, The kidnapping, & the aftermath of the kidnapping. Even going so far as to say that they neglected his mental health, in canon. They’ve messed up with him multiple times, and while it’s good that Aizawa doesn’t let him get away with bullshit, that doesn’t mean that they’ve done much to help him either.

2)

Yes, Katsuki got a lot of praise as a child. I could talk for ages about gifted child syndrome and how that built up unrealistic expectations on him such that he believes he’s not allowed to make mistakes and takes responsibility for way to much as a result. However, this isn’t something I forgot in my original post. In my original post, the point was that Mitsuki acts/talks about it in such a way that implies that just sort of happened, when in reality that is on her and Marasu for not parenting Katsuki correctly. If they had raised him better, taught him to be kinder to others, put him into anger management/therapy, taught him how to handle his emotions in a health way, etc, he would be a much different person. But they didn’t, yet she still talks about it like she had no hand in it.

Also, again, as I said in my original post, a big part of this is timing. If this was just a PTA meeting or something, I’d have a very different opinion on this entire thing. But that’s not what this is. This is a meeting right after he got kidnapped, at a point where he likely still very shaken from the experience, and where he’s likely being dealing with a lot of negative media attention online. If there is any point in his life where he needs support from his parents, this is that time. I don’t care if he’s been a shitty kid in his life, right after he just got kidnapped is a time when he needs love and support from his parents. Not them talking about how shitty he is to his teachers while he’s still trying to recover from that.

3)

That really has no baring on the conversation, at all. Was Katsuki telling Izuku to jump off a building unacceptable? Yes. However, neither Katsuki’s parents, nor Aizawa/All-Might have any idea that that event transpired. It’s called out in canon that what happened that day was unusual for Katsuki, that was not a normal interaction between him and Izuku. It was also something that happened when Katsuki was 14, ~2 ish years prior to the conversation I’m talking about.

Katsuki was an asshole, particularly to Izuku, when he was a kid. He still has a lot of those tendencies. That in no way negates the fact that after he was kidnapped is a wildly inappropriate time to start ragging on his flaws, alongside blaming him for getting kidnapped in the first place. Instead, that’s the sort of thing to be worked on through therapy and teaching over time. Or just, to be talked about at any other time besides right after he got kidnapped. 

Also, it might be worth reflecting on why he was an asshole, where he learned to behave that way, and why he considers his own words/actions acceptable. Because as it turns out, kids don’t develop those habits out of thin air.

4)

Here’s the thing, you can say that Katsuki would be laughing if it was anyone but him chained up at the sports festival, but I’d argue that he wouldn’t, because nobody else would ever be chained up at the sports festival. Neither the school, nor the author, could ever get away with that for any other student in class 1-A. If Shouto had refused to use his fire on Izuku, causing Izuku to win the fight and Izuku to follow him out of bounds in frustration and reject the first place medal, we all know damn well that he would’ve been allowed to walk away from it. Hell, we actually see Ojiro resigning after round 2 because he felt like he hadn’t earned his win, and he was allowed to do that without any issue. The only one who isn’t given the right to say no, and the only one who would ever be chained up to that podium is Katsuki.

And that comes down to the fact that because Katsuki refuses a lot of things, both on a character and reader level, people stop caring about whether or not he consents to things. They get used to forcing him to do things, and so that becomes normal and acceptable. He’s seen and portrayed as inheritable violent, uncontrollable, and “bad” which means they treat him in ways that would never be acceptable for other characters, and it becomes a self fulfilling prophecy as he sees himself that way. This happens on every level, be it touch, the sports festival, izuku following him around, etc. Katsuki is basically never respected when he tries to say no to something unless he steadfastly enforces that boundary through physical force.

That’s why Aizawa calls out what happened at the sports festival as a failure on UA’s part. Because that’s what it was.

That’s also why we see Tomura with the photo of Katsuki at the sports festival, and why Tomura thought Katsuki would join him. Tomura understands what it’s like to be seen and treated as monstrous, to be seen and treated as fundamentally destructive and dangerous, and he assumed that Katsuki would want to join him to be free of that.

When Tomura has restraints taken off Katsuki when asking him to make his choice, it’s because he understands how Katsuki’s been treated, and he’s playing to that. He explicitly says that they need to treat Katsuki as an equal, and to prove that he means that, the restraints have to come off. He also calls out that he’s not worried about Katsuki fighting back, because he believes Katsuki is smarter then that (which was a miscalculation on his part, not because Katsuki isn’t smart enough to know not to fight back, but because he underestimated Katsuki’s convictions and personal morals).

What Tomura is doing there is a very significant and important demonstration. He’s showing Katsuki through actions, that he is willing to treat him like a human being, even if the heroes aren’t. Tomura is showing basic respect for Katsuki, however undermined by the kidnapping it may be, moreso then his teachers/the heroes did, by allowing him his freedom when making a choice. Perhaps even more important, he’s showing that he sees Katsuki as capable of restraining himself, and of being non-destructive. What he’s really offering Katsuki there is proof that he is willing to treat him better then the heroes did, and that’s why he believes Katsuki will join him.

Anyways, the long and the short of it is that no, I did not forget any of that when I was making my prior post. I did consider all of those things on some level, and they don’t change my opinion that how Mitsuki behaved after the kidnapping is indicative of her being a bad parent, and that were this another character or if the gender roles of the situation were reversed, then I feel strongly that this wouldn’t even be a debate in the fandom.

That being said, who knows what direction canon will takes this. I’m hopeful that the issue will be explored more thoroughly, but we may very well never see Mitsuki in canon again. I’m also not saying that anyone else has to agree with me. My own opinions are not universal truth, and we really have very little canon interactions with Mitsuki and know so little about Katsuki’s childhood in general that nearly anything is possible. I can definitely appreciate Good Parent Mitsuki headcanons, and I’ve read some great fics with those sorts of takes. But my opinion on the matter is the above.

[selfproducingfanfictionauthor]

to be treated this way - chapter i

pair: shownu x reader 

summary: When your alpha - sort-of - found his true mate, you’re stuck dealing with the aftermath and the coming of your next heat. So when your friend suggested a “dating service” to aid you, signing up seemed like a no-brainer. So, you’ve prepared yourself for the dominance, the adrenaline-fueled by fear and arousal and the constant out-of-this-world sex but when you meet Shownu, everything you know about Alphas is challenged. He’s soft - for the lack of better word. He cooks you meals, he takes you out on dates… all of which are not really necessary for an Alpha - Omega relationship… right? Whatever. You’d just really, really, wish he’d touch you now warning: this story may be slow-paced at the start, no other warnings for now - also, boo seungkwan’s appearance! a/b/o dynamics! 

Many poets and writers have tried, failed and came close to describing what true heartbreak is. Such fundamental human experience is so universal that many men and women across history have drawn inspiration from it and created amazing works of art - sculptures, plays, books and songs. At the back of your mind, you remember reading something like - “If nothing saves us from death, at least love should save us from life” and although it’s beautiful and you certainly want to be saved, you feel like it’s too dramatic to apply to your own situation.

Even though you certainly feel like dying right now.

Mouth dry and head pounding, you blearily open your eyes to the sight of your blinking alarm clock. The numbers 1:03 pm mocks you in all its inherent cheeriness. Underneath the cocoon of your warm bed, you squirm, sweating and uncomfortable – feeling like you just want to crawl out of your skin just to reach the itch between your skin and bones. Fists closing and unfurling, you try to resist the urge to scratch, knowing that there’s nothing to find beneath, nothing to offer you relief.

Kicking off your sheets, you try to reign in the uneasiness. At the back of your ears, you feel the itch worsen, crawling down your nape burning down its path. Rubbing yourself against the scratchy texture of your bedsheets feels like heaven and hell alternating between five seconds – the brief relief only highlighting the torment of your hormones tenfold.

Time seem to pass too slowly as you try to muster the strength to get up. But your body refuses to cooperate, your limbs heavy and your mind foggy. This is what you hate the most about suppressants, the side-effects feels like punishment for being born an omega. Your head feels like it’s submerged underwater, and you don’t hear your apartment door opening with a bang.

“I’m here!” Seungkwan sings, grocery bags hanging from his arms. His eyes roam your kitchen before landing on you through your open bedroom door. At the sight of you, his mood drops. ”Oh my god, what are you doing!”

Your best friend rushes over to you and grasps your wrists, quickly pulling it away from your arms.

Streaks of scratches marred your neck and arms while you tremble. He notes with a small amount of relief, that at least, you didn’t break skin.

Aish, this girl.

Relief flood you at the familiar smell of your friend and his cool hands, drawing away from the heat marked by your nails. You let him drag you up to your couch. Sitting down, he grasps your wrists with one hand and reaches for one of the grocery bags with his other.

“Next time I see him, I’m gonna kick him in the nuts.” Seungkwan swears, agitated. Between the two of you, there’s only one person he could be referring to. You wince at the thought of Geun-woo, the alpha who had once frequented your bed. Pulling you out of your thoughts, Seungkwan fishes out a sheet of tablets and pops one open for you.

Trusting you to control yourself, he lets go of your wrists and hands you a bottle of water from the same bag.

“It’s not his fault he found his true mate, Seungkwanie.” You sigh, after swallowing the pill. You don’t know if it’s placebo or not, but immediately, the irritating itch and heat under your skin recedes.

The beta rolls his eyes. True mates, bah – people throw it around like a free pass. “True mate or not, it doesn’t mean he gets to drop you like a hot sweet potato – which you are, sweet and you look like a potato, woman, get yourself together! – and ride off into the sunset. Any decent alpha knows that omegas need weaning –”

Seungkwan goes off on a rant that you’ve heard on loop for the past week.

Geun-woo was a friend from the university. As alphas tend to be, he was popular and well-liked by your peers. His designation spurred him to be in the best shape he could be, drove him to win championship after championship for your university football team. After graduation, he went on to train for the national team and was – is – on his way to being a national athlete.

You could talk on and on about who Oh Geun-woo is to many people, but you could summarize what he was to you in three words: not your boyfriend.

The arrangement between the two of you was simple. You were adults, busy people living busy lives interrupted almost monthly by your heats and ruts. It was a logical and practical way to ensure that neither of you spend your vulnerable biological ~events~ alone. It was a good arrangement and after two years of it, you could honestly call Geun-woo a good friend.

However, the downside with spending such time so often with someone you’re not bonded with is you develop what experts call, a quasi-bond. It has all the effects of being bonded but dialed down by almost a hundred. You think it’s an exaggeration but you, an unbonded omega, really isn’t in the position to do so.

So when, Geun-woo found his true mate at some meet abroad, he dropped you faster than you could blink.

You don’t blame him, but man, it sucks.

Seungkwan glanced at you, sighing at your silence. Sending a prayer above, he fishes his wallet and takes out a card. “I have a suggestion.”

With your heat coming at you, barreling in the next two weeks, you’re just about open to any suggestion so, you hum behind your coffee mug, “The floor’s yours.” Well, at least the little of it that’s still visible under your clothes and knick-knacks.

“Before you say anything, know that I am suggesting this out of the goodness of my heart. But why don’t you consider this?” Seungkwan implored, handing you the card.

The black and purple card reads; “SS Matching Services” and under it, their company motto; “We’ve got the match for you.” With their office address and contact number.

“A pimping service?”

“Ya,” Seungkwan protested, red-faced, “Take your 19th century standards out of the gutter.”

His adamant protest startles a laugh out of you. For the guy who used to glare at anyone holding hands in public, your best friend has grown well. “Actually, it was worse in the 19th century but go off, I guess.”

Seungkwan leveled you with a flat look that had you raising your hands in surrender. No good can come from antagonizing the guy who just quite literally saved your life. “I’m listening.”

“Look, it’s just an option and it’s legit. Tough screening process too.” He takes out his phone and shows you the company’s website. Briefly, you glance at it before taking the card. Physically, it weighs like nothing but in your mind, it weighs like something amazing.

“How’d you know that?”

“My sunbaenim, uses this from time to time. It helps with his ruts. Win-win.” Seungkwan shrugs. You wonder which sunbae he’s referring to, given his many hobbies.

The website doesn’t look like it’ll give your laptop a virus, you’ll give it that. It’s classy and clean, and no random photos of just naked torsos. Good sign.

“You’re surprisingly blasé about this.” You laugh, eyes warm and surprised at how maturely Seungkwan delivers, only to laugh out loud at the sight of his burning ears.

You promised Seungkwan that you’ll check out the site but as soon as you got back to work, everything just swept you away.

That’s what happens when you work with kids.

Eyes warm with fondness, you quietly pat the bottom of one of your snoozing students. It’s nap time and your classroom has turned into some sort of sleepover area with all your students wrapped up with their soft blankets, nuzzling into their softer pillows. The early afternoon light filters into the room through the curtains, painting over the children with a soft glow.

Across you, another teacher takes the opportunity to get some of her own sleep in, curling herself protectively around two kids. Your classroom smells like baby powder and sweet treats, littered with small pastel chairs and tables. Its walls decorated with your students artworks and colorful cartoon characters.

This, this is one of the many moments that remind you why you became a pre-school teacher.

Many of your peers assumed it’s because of your designation. Omegas are naturally more inclined to take positions that require caretaking, given the innate desire to give care to others. Just like alphas are more likely to take positions that require leadership.

However, you muse, cooing as the young beta in front of you snuggle closer to your lap, many tend to gloss over the many manifestations of one’s designation. It’s true that by virtue of being an omega, you’re naturally more inclined to take care of your peers. Your so-called softness being the defining quality of your group.

But your omega manifestation is… a bit different. Sometimes, it makes you wonder how you got hired as a preschool teacher in the first place.

“Teach’r, sleepy time?”

Glancing down, you see the young beta pout at you. Waving away your thoughts, you slide down to her side and let the afternoon light lull you to sleep. All thoughts about your heat fading away quietly.

Soon, naptime was over and so is the day. Parents slowly trickle in, one after another, to pick up their children. Most of them harried from work, but still smiling at you and your co-teachers in gratitude.

“See you tomorrow, Rahui!” You call, as the last student leaves.

The little girl in her puffy sweater turns and smiles at you sweetly. “Bye, bye, teacher! Sleepy time!”

You flush at your student’s comment much to her mother’s confusion. After falling asleep earlier, you’d woken up to a clean classroom and several of your students hovering over you. Your pre-heat symptoms felt like they’re coming too fast for your taste.

Waving her off with a smile, you untie your apron and walk to the staff room where the others are. It’s almost 6 pm, and your daily staff meeting’s in session. In front of the room is your superior, an older bonded omega, with deep dimples on her cheek.

“Good job today, everyone.” She starts off, smiling at the soft cheers from everyone. “As you know…”

Your superior continues on to talk about the children’s upcoming activities. Vaguely, you hear her talk about a field trip, or is it a field demo? Shaking your head, you try to clear your thoughts but it seem like everything’s underwater, and no sound is escaping from her lips.

“… right, y/n?”

Blinking, you focus, and sent her a sheepish smile. “Sorry, you were saying?”

Your superior smiles forgivingly, “I was asking about that self-defense class you’ve been wanting to teach. When would you like to schedule it? Of course, pending approval with everyone’s schedule.”

Immediately, a large smile appears on your cheek. It’s approved?? You’ve been proposing that seminar for months. Most of the omega teachers were wary of the thought but warmed up to it recently. Especially when you mentioned how it’ll help them protect their kids – their students – more.

“How about two weeks from now?”

“Anytime!” You offer. The enthusiasm isn’t lost on your co-workers, some of them shaking their heads in amusement.

Your superior looks over your office board and hums at the chart. It contains all your schedules, including leaves, conferences to attend and heat cycles. With one look, your heart drops.

“Actually…” you start off, wincing at the thought of inconveniencing everyone because of your biology. “My heat is coming up in two weeks…”

Surprisingly, or not, omegas are actually quite liberal in discussing things like this. It’s simply part of the biology you live with. So your mortification is unfounded as your co-workers nod in understanding, quickly suggesting different dates.

Your superior nods, and glances at your work log book. “Well, we could schedule maybe four weeks from now to get you time to recover? Don’t forget to file your leave.”

Right.

“I still can’t believe she flew you in for her rut.” Jooheon’s laugh and disbelief reaches Shownu’s ears before he even steps inside. Smiling to himself, he finds his friends lounging in his living room, completely comfortable and completely unexpected.

Jooheon looks up at his arrival, “Hi, hyung! We let ourselves in!” 

“I can see that.” Shownu nods in greeting, trying to remember who he gave his spare keys to. He’s pretty sure he didn’t make six copies of his set. Shrugging off his coat, he look on, realizing how his living room looks smaller with a bunch of guys occupying it. Jooheon and Minhyuk are on his couch, Changkyun’s on his stomach on the floor, playing with his phone and, Hyunwoo and Kihyun are by the window drinking a can of beer each. 

That’s one, two, three… four, five… 

“Hey, you’re home! And – are those protein bars?” The paper bag is snatched from his hand, before Shownu registers, blinking slowly as Wonho disappears once again into the kitchen. 

The smell of jajjangmyeon invades his senses. Ah, yes, guys’ night. 

Shortly after his arrival, everyone gathers in the dining room. With the two youngest improvising chairs out of the boxes Shownu hasn’t had the chance to unpack, having just moved into his new home a month ago. 

To the eldest’s surprise, everyone pitched in with dinner, bringing different dishes and filling the dining table. Assorted cuts of meat are sizzling over the portable electric grill Wonho brought, several small plates of side-dishes and… are those buttered crabs he’s seeing? “What’s this?” 

Minhyuk shoots him an amused glance over his beer, “You don’t really think we’ll let you off without a house warming, right?” 

Shownu blinks, a small bashful smile forming on his lips, “But I’ve been here a month.”

An arm wraps around his shoulder and a weight shakes him back and forth. Kihyun rolls his eyes, getting into his personal space. “This is the first time we’ve been complete for a month! Just enjoy it!” 

Jooheon hums, his cheeks filled with lettuce and meat from the grill. “Yeah, I mean, though it’s only Minhyuk-hyung that hasn’t been around, too busy getting his dick wet.” 

“Oi!” their youngest protests, ears burning and nearly spitting out his drink. “We are eating.” 

Wonho heartily “taps” Changkyun’s back, laughing. “We’re all adults here. It’s not as if you haven’t heard or said anything worse, Kyunie.” 

“Yeah, daddy~” Hyungwon hits, reminding everyone of one very particular incident in college that featured a younger Changkyun and a girl from the bar, and the very thin walls of their shared apartment. 

Changkyun flushes before rolling his eyes, “At least I get some. Can’t say the same to you.” 

Scoffing, Minhyuk raises his hands, “Excuse me, I have no problem with that.” 

Before Minhyuk starts to dive into his sexual exploits, Kihyun saves the day and shoves a piece of meat into his mouth and diverts the conversation to work.

Over food and drinks, Shownu and his friends catch up on their personal lives – not having as much time to get together as before. Not with Wonho’s celebrity coaching taking off, Jooheon and Changkyun’s new artist, Kihyun’s voice academy and Hyungwon’s and Minhyuk’s modelling. 

Sometimes, Shownu feels left behind by the big dreams his friends are living but every day, he wakes up and goes home happy as a chef and food blogger. His appetite thanking him for the career path he chose. Besides, as Changkyun said, he could go big time if he wants, it’s just a matter of self-promotion which he’s terrible at given his shy personality. 

Dinner passes by with a blur and they find themselves nursing their last beers when Jooheon circles back to Minhyuk’s vacation. 

“So, hyung. How does it feel to fulfill your sugar baby dreams?” The young alpha jokes, his dimples appearing on his cheeks as he elbows Minhyuk. 

Stars appear in the latter’s eyes and with a dreamy sigh, he responds jokingly, “Just as I’ve always dreamed.” 

The one of the only two omegas of their group has never shied away from talking about his exploits, his looks and all the advantages he gets from it. Often, he jokes that’s why he became a model – to be admired and to fulfill his duties to the world and bless them with his godly looks. 

“She flew me to her family’s island, and we spent her rut and my heat underneath the blanket of stars.” Minhyuk recounts, all dreamy-eyed, “I felt really spoiled.”

“I bet.” Kihyun remarked, smirking. “Is this the girl you’ve been telling us about?”

Ignoring Hyungwon’s cough of which one, Minhyuk nods, “Yes!” and turns to Shownu, “She’s actually friends with Nayeon – who, by the way, is asking me about you, hyung.” 

Shownu blinks, before handing a can of beer to Wonho across him. “Me?” 

“Yeah, she asked why you never called her.” 

A chorus of ooh’s echoes in the room followed by a few gruff laughter. Shownu ducks his head and nurses his drink. Nayeon’s a nice girl, a model that he met when Minhyuk called in a favor for him to substitute as one of their shoot’s models after the original model called in sick. She gave him his number on a piece of paper before departing with a sultry look and a flying kiss. 

Contrary to popular belief, Shownu is not dense – or, more like, he’s not that dense. 

“Ah,” Shownu starts, “Um. I don’t think we’re looking for the same thing.” 

Wonho pauses and eyes him, before levelling the younger guys with a look that has them catching their teasing remarks and keeping it to themselves. Wonho has known Shownu the longest and knows that though his friend’s an alpha, physically, through and through, his disposition often throws people off. 

He’s soft when others are hard. Soft-spoken, patient like a saint and very careful with his actions and words. Wonho doesn’t even remember if he’s ever seen his friend get angry or aggressive in the span of their long friendship. 

A romantic at heart, through and through.

“Well,” Kihyun claps, breaking the quiet, “You know, no point in pursuing something that you know’s a dead end, right?”

Minhyuk pouts, sometimes a little bit insensitive in his enthusiasm, “But she’s cute! And she’s an omega too! Besides – wait—how do you even deal with your ruts?” 

Shownu’s face lights up like a lantern, the drinks doing nothing about the flush crawling up his neck. It’s not like he’s never spent it with someone, but every time, after the week of his rut, he always feel tired and empty. So for the past ruts, he’s been dealing with it - “Alone, with suppressants.”

“Yah, I thought you’d stopped taking those!” 

Constant use of suppressants for an alpha fucks up their cycle and even their moods. Wonho knows this the best because he was on it for several months back in college, before he started becoming confident enough in his newfound muscles and height. 

“I did.” Shownu nods, assuring his friends. “I don’t use them anymore. Just when I’m… you know. It’s just easier to deal with.”

All the alphas in the room scoff under their breaths. Yeah, it’s easy if easy felt like walking and dancing on hot coal in the middle of the hottest summer day. It’s not as if their eldest can’t get a woman just by standing by the bar, being his awkward self. 

At their little corner, Jooheon and Changkyun glance at each other, years of friendship evident in their wordless communication. Changkyun tilts his head, eyes widening and jaw clenched, “Go”, he mouths. 

Jooheon pouts, “Do you know how hard it is to get into their mixers, punk?” 

Shrinking at Changkyun’s flat stare, Jooheon rolls his eyes and sends a prayer to the universe asking for good karma. 

“Hyung, what do you think about dating services?” 

Notes: The stage is set for our two protagonists! I tried to incorporate as much world-building and character backgrounds as I can without it being over the top. Please leave comments and asks! :) I’m trying to stick to weekly updates. Also, support Monsta X’s next comeback! 

[seyaryminamoto]

In your opinion, what do you think is the predominant love language of Sokka and Azula? And how would they express it to each other? :)

I really don’t know much about this whole classification of love languages, if you want me to be honest xD a quick wikipedia search says it’s basically a way to break down and categorize different displays of love? And there’s five of them, apparently? I have to say frankly that, as I write them, Sokka and Azula basically do everything in that list of five languages:

Words of affirmation: one of my main must-haves in virtually any Sokkla setting, where Azula is either not redeemed or halfway there, is Sokka telling Azula she’s not a monster. As you may have noticed, that particular thing bugs Azula fans a lot, and we really wish someone would tell her she isn’t one :’D thus, one of Gladiator’s most emotional scenes in Part 1 is Azula’s mild breakdown in Ember Island where Sokka reasons with Azula’s belief of being a monster and tells her that she’s about as human as can be, and the darkness inside her isn’t anything that makes her fundamentally worse than anyone else. There’s so many scenes I could point to that feature words of affirmation they say to each other, or that they say to other people about each other *cough* look forward to chapter 187 *cough*, some of my favorites from Azula to Sokka was her reasoning for wanting to celebrate his birthday (” I've wanted to celebrate your birthday because I'm quite grateful that you were born”), as well as her later affirmation that she loves him for who he is: (”I can say, truthfully… that I love that you're a non-bender. I know it might seem strange, but… I wouldn't change anything about you"). This is without going into the ten thousand times they’ve said they love each other :’D virtually all their conversations in Part 2 end up featuring words of affirmation of one sort or another, from either of them, no matter how often they may tease each other. So... this one is pretty predominant, I suppose? 

Quality time: and see, this one happens to be Gladiator Part 2 in a nutshell. Whenever they have any time to spare (well, when Azula does, in particular), their immediate idea is to spend that free time together, in whatever capacity is possible. Outside of free time, they also work together as sponsor and gladiator, so they have their training sessions, Sokka’s fights, the events in the League... Sokka also helps her out with anything she may need (for instance, he took up a job as swordmanship teacher for the Enforcers to give Azula a hand, which still means they get to spend a bit of time together, even if she’s really busy with her new undertakings), so in the end, they spend most their time together, and they’d spend even more of it if they could. They only separate whenever they have no official justification for spending time together, such as when Sokka was still recovering from the Jeong Jeong incident, and even then they were desperate to return to each other ASAP. So... yeah, I think it’s safe to say, Gladiator-wise, they dedicate all the time they can to each other. And, as far as I’m concerned, other stories and settings could even have them spending more time together than they do in Gladiator, since there’s no Ozai breathing down their necks and threatening to kill Sokka if he finds out he’s his daughter’s secret lover. Therefore... quality time is also guaranteed.

Giving gifts: This one might be the less obvious one with Sokka and Azula, because Azula’s initial generosity (in Gladiator) answered some very specific needs: she ensured he was well fed, clothed, trained, bought him a house, found a maid for him... basically, she gave him a thousand things, but it wasn’t because she was showing she loves him, it was because she knew such things would be necessary for Sokka to offer a decent performance as a gladiator. Now then, after their initial hurdles are out of the way and their relationship has progressed, Sokka gives Azula occasional gifts but constantly struggles to come up with something she’ll genuinely cherish. He made Xin Long’s armor, he brought her flowers, he tried to cook for her, he gave her a tiny hot-air balloon, and crafted a betrothal necklace for her... he also wrote poetry, and he’ll try his hand at another artistic venture with Azula very soon. But this stuff is pretty sparse, even if Azula appreciates it a lot whenever it happens. As for Azula, she will give Sokka some pretty nice gifts very soon, just as she continues to provide for all his needs. In recent times, the gifts she’s been willing to give Sokka have been mostly non-physical ones, such as the thumbs-up she gives his crowd in his stead, once they’re leaving the Royal Dome on the day he wins against the Mad Alchemist, or ordering her Barge back into Whaletail Island’s port so Sokka could meet Katara... it’s stuff that means a lot to him, more than any physical gifts might (this, paired with the fact that Azula had offered to bring him home whenever he wished to go, without forcing him to stick to their original deal). So, maybe the gift-giving isn’t quite the classic sense of it, but it still happens in its own way. In general, I think it’s difficult for Sokka to give gifts to a Princess who basically can have it all... so that’s why he generally tries the DIY route with gifts, and so far it has paid off wonderfully because she genuinely loves everything he crafts for her. I think in most settings it’d have to be this way, and depending on Azula’s situation, she can either give him anything he wishes for or maybe resort to small but heartfelt gifts and gestures that mean a lot to the two of them.

Acts of service: this one may even tie slightly with the previous one, but frankly, as far as acts of service are concerned, these two take it the extra mile. Sokka didn’t always fight as her gladiator out of his own convictions, he started off doing it because of their deal... but as time goes by, he genuinely cherishes his role in her life and he would fight anyone for Azula’s sake, if need be. It’s, of course, a mutual thing because Azula will protect Sokka against anything, even her own father, no matter the cost. Hence, their relationship dynamics and battle couple behavior can be interpreted as acts of service for each other. Sokka, like I said before, has tried to cook for Azula too, which is a more classic act of service, as far as I can tell, and she appreciates his efforts even if not his results just yet xD in future chapters Sokka goes out of his way (in two different instances) to get lychee wine for Azula because he knows that’s the only licquor she likes, and every time he does that her heart grows twenty sizes. He also cared for her while she was sick, and she often does the same when he’s wounded, such as how she cared for him in Jeong Jeong’s arc. Sokka also tries to help her have good relations with people such as Captain Zhen, by agreeing to teach swordsmanship to his son because he hoped that would help Azula. Everything Azula did in the current Whaletail Island arc counts as well as an act of service: she’s privileging Sokka’s needs and his bond with his family well above her own needs, to the point of preparing herself to face that he might choose to stay with Katara - and she’s determined to respect his decision, if he were to make it. So, I’d say this one ranks really high, perhaps more than everything else?

Physical touch: ... but this one’s obviously a big deal too considering how damn difficult it is for them to keep their hands off each other at any given moment xD from something as innocent as walking through the Capital’s tunnels holding hands, hence, fulfilling Sokka’s wish for them to “walk through the city while holding hands”, to their very frequent intimate encounters, once these two are together they’re as good as magnets, constantly seeking contact with each other. Sokka has always struck me as a highly affectionate person once he’s with someone he genuinely loves, and so he pours that affection on Azula constantly, to the point where, in the early days of their relationship, she could barely keep up with it all. Physical touch doesn’t come quite as easily to Azula as it does to him, as she has never been someone who receives a lot of physical affection, but her attraction to Sokka has made it so she craves for him physically and on every possible level she can... therefore, despite she’s been awkward when other people show her any physical affection (often pushes Ty Lee off when Ty Lee hugs her, or remains unresponsive, barely responds to Toph’s hugs and stood limp and awkwardly the first time she did it, nearly flipped out when Ozai reached for her hand in the temple that one time, and most recently was left drawing blanks when Zuko hugged her....), she’s at ease when it’s with Sokka, so much that she welcomes his touch and everything about physical contact with him, altogether.

In short... I seriously think they do it all? You could, perhaps, rank the languages depending on which one is more predominant, to a fault xD but there’s genuinely no love language they outright don’t do, at least in Gladiator (and honestly, I doubt they don’t use all love languages in my other stories). But I guess, if you really want me to rank them...

Acts of service

Physical touch - Words of affirmation

Quality time

Gift-giving

Sorry, I really think Physical touch and Words of affirmation are virtually tied together in the story, both things tend to happen at the same time, and I really can’t bring myself to rank either thing higher, so it’s a draw. Quality time falls to #3 because they can sacrifice being together sometimes, as much as they hate doing it, but they can survive while being apart (despite Sokka would likely argue with me and say he absolutely can’t, but you know, ignore him (?)). Gift-giving, while very heartfelt and cute when it happens, is sparse, like I said... so it can stay in the last place, despite it’s still part of what they do for each other.

Is this comprehensive enough? :’D I sure hope so...

(if anyone needs me to hide this under a read more, let me know... got longer than I thought it would, woops)

[isrustandstardust]

1. What’s been the best day of your life so far and why?

Hard to decide, I had so many great days.

2. Describe your first kiss, who was it with, what was it like, where was it etc?

It was with my best friend at the time, in my parents garden. It was early morning after a night spent talking, her lips were really soft.

3. What’s your biggest regret? I know we all say we don’t regret things but obviously it’s how we learn, from our mistakes. So what’s something from your past you wished you could have changed?

I could have handled a break up better. I ended up hurting someone I cared for.

4. When was the last time you laughed so hard that tears fell from your face and what was it at?

With my husband, yesterday night. We were actually making fun of someone we know.

5. What is the craziest thing that you have ever done?

Moving in with a guy I barely knew in a city 400km away from all my family and friends.

6. What’s the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to you?

Nothing comes to mind rn.

7. Do you have any scars and if so, how did you get them?

I have my arms covered in scars. All of them are from self harming.

8. Where would you like to be in 10 years?

In another house, maybe abroad.

9. What are your views on drugs and alcohol?

I’m for the free of choice. I’ve tried drugs only a few times and not drinking atm.

10. What are your views on religion?

Brainwashing shit.

11. Have you ever thought about ending your own life? If so, why?

Yes, more than once. I tried, twice, when I was 21 and going through a lot. The second time I almost succeeded and woke up in the hospital after being unconscious and intubated for a week.

12. Write 5 facts people might not know about you.

- I am bipolar, borderline and have a schizoafective disorder.

- I dream about Satan and the end of the world on daily basis.

- When I was little I used look for little animals to bury and exhume after a while to see how decomposition works.

- I’ve been into witchcraft and rituals since I was 16.

- I write backwards like Leonardo Da Vinci.

13. What’s your zodiac sign and do you think it fits your personality?

I’m a Scorpio and it fits perfectly.

14. Pinpoint a moment you felt the most satisfied with your life.

When my storyboard teacher remembered me from my online test because it was a perfect score.

15. Discuss your first love.

We were young and trying too hard.

16. Put your ipod on shuffle and write 5 songs that pop up. Explain why each song is on there.

- Don’t mess with me - Brody Dalle. It’s from the soundtrack of a game I love.

- Distance - 4bidden. It relaxes me.

- As the rain comes down - 0K(ill)’s. Because I’m working on their new videoclip.

- 8-MQ 16.10.2001 - 0K(ill)’s. Because it’s inspired by an Italian female serial killer. The title is composed by her initials and date of death.

- Rock and Roll - Gary Glitter. It makes me want to misbehave.

17. Name somewhere you’d like to move or visit.

Iceland.

18. What’s your earliest memory?

My dad taking me to Collodi.

19. What are your views on mainstream music?

It’s heartless and all about making money.

20. What are your highs and lows of this past year?

High: starting officially my character designer career. Low: my mother in law and old dog passing away in less than a month.

21. What are your strongest beliefs?

I believe in being direct and honest. Do no harm but take no shit.

22. Who are you closest to in your family?

My dad maybe.

23. How important do you think education is?

It’s fundamental.

24. What’s one of your favorite shows?

My 600lbs life XD

25. How have you changed in the past 2 years?

I’m more secure of myself and my capabilities.

26. Name 5 people who are famous who you find attractive.

- Tom Hiddleston.

- Mads Mikkelsen.

- Hugh Dancy.

- Michael Fassbender.

- Matthew Good.

27. Name your favorite movie and what it’s about.

3 Iron, in the mood for love. Because they’re sad but huntingly beautiful.

Stoker because psycho killers turn me on.

The fountain because is eternal and heartbreaking.

28. Who is someone who fascinates you and why?

I am fascinated by fictional characters. Like Hannibal Lecter. Yeah, again psycho killers.

29. What kind of person attracts you?

Intelligent people.

30. What’s a problem that you have recently had or are currently having?

My body is giving up on me xD

31. Name something that you miss.

The lake.

32. Share 5 goals you want completed in the next 30 days.

- Doing at least 15 designs.

- Double up my workout time.

- Completing my very first song.

- Take that online course I’ve been postponing for lack of time.

- Get a hold of a camera and go shooting.

33. What’s been the highlight of your month and the lowest point?

Highlight: doing a shit ton of sales on my shop. Lowest point: I don’t recall one, it’s been a pretty good month so far.

34. What’s something that you’ve done in the past that you would never do again?

Being the side chick.

35. What is you’re biggest insecurity & why?

Not being good enough. It can be traced back to my mom being a terrible mother.

36. What were the last 3 songs you listened to and what did they mean to you?

- Natacha Atlas - GAFSA. Because it’s in the soundtrack of 3Iron.

- Morcheeba - Over and over again. I find I’d perfectly fitting.

- Portishead - Wandering star. Because it remembers me of someone from my past.

37. Do you have a toy that’s really special to you and if so what is it, how did you get it etc?

I had a plush of a rhino called Mr. Turkelton [Scrubs reference] that was so dear to me. It’s with my ex, we bought it together and he kept it. Still miss him tho.

38. Have you lost anyone close to you to death?

My mother in law. She was more of a mom to me than my own mother.

39. What is your purpose in life?

Being happy and create beautiful things.

40. When was the last time you cried and what was it over?

I do not remember, but I guess it was during my mil’s funeral.

41. If you got to spend an entire day with your favourite celebrity what would you guys do?

I would love to spend a day with the Mass Effect’s cast playing the game!

42. If you could only listen to one artist for the rest of your life, who would you choose and why?

Tool. Because I’m a masochist.

43. What are 3 traits that you like about yourself and what are three that you dislike about yourself? Personality wise.

Likes:

- Being open minded.

- Being stubborn.

- Being so will powered.

Dislikes:

- Being insecure.

- Being so unable to handle rage that I keep extremely calm until the moment I explode and get cruel and violent.

- Being unable to let go of things that enrage me.

44. Can you cook? If so what are your favorite dishes to make?

I’m pretty good at it. I love to make fresh pasta.

45. What was the last decision you regretted making?

Drinking that glass of milk, now my stomach hurts.

46. Who’s opinion of yourself do you value the most?

Mine. And then my husband’s. I don’t care of no one else’s opinion.

47. What’s the nastiest thing you’ve ever said to another human being and what drove you to say it?

I demolished a guy who was in love with me telling him exactly what I knew it would break him. I did it because he tried to act like I was his property and then got aggressive when I didn’t act accordingly.

48. What’s the nastiest thing anyone has ever said to YOU? Or something that’s hurt you above anything else and why?

Nasty things don’t get to me, I don’t listen to what people say, especially when it comes from someone I don’t care for or I despise. The things that hurt me the most was saying goodbye to someone I was not ready to let go.

49. You can ask your favourite celebrity 3 questions and she’s taken a magical truth pill so she will 100% answer honestly, what do you ask?

Maybe some technical stuff, Idk. I have no ‘favorite celebrity ‘ so...

50. What mark would you want to leave on this world after you are gone?

I don’t care about leaving a mark in a dying world tbh.

51. What makes you most angry?

Liars, incoherent people, delusional people, copycats.

52. Who do you think is a really underrated artist and what do you love about them?

There are a lot of really underrated artists out there trying their very best and being bashed by online algorithms. Support the artists you like!

53. What are the main qualities you look for when thinking about a significant other?

Intelligence, honesty and having moral values.

54. What’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for you?

The first that comes to mind is waiting at home for me to return with a hot bath ready and a bed full of rose petals. It’s a cliche,Iknow. But I was young and in love.

55. What is one of your favorite memories?

I have so many, but thinking about the past makes me feel bittersweet.

56. What do you do when you really want to impress someone?

I just act normal, if they’re impressed, good. If not, it’s ok.

57. What are your 3 favourite animals and why?

- Snakes: They’re so fascinating.

- Crows: they’re extremely intelligent.

- Sharks: natural born predators.

58. What’s the nicest present you’ve ever received?

A trip to Paris and a trip to Disneyland.

59. People always go around saying ‘oh I’m their biggest fan’, but what does being a truly big fan of someone mean to you?

Idk, I just like people. I don’t obsess over them.

I obsess over things I like, but not over some individual I don’t know.

60. Have you ever wanted to change anything about your life? If so, what?

I want more money XD

61. What is something you feel like you are really good at?

Drawing. Hopefully making music, but it’s way to early to say.

62. What is something you feel like you can get better at?

Drawing, there’s always room for improving.

63. What is something you feel like you are really bad at?

Hiding when I despise someone. And bowling.

64. If you were given $3,000,000 to put towards 3 charities/foundations ($1 mil each obvs), what would you choose and why?

Wildlife protection, animal shelters, planet’s preservation.

65. What’s one thing someone has done for you that was really small but made a huge impact?

My roommates came back from Xmas holidays one day earlier to have dinner with me because I was alone. And another brought me Xmas dinner a few days before.

66. What do you do when you can’t sleep?

I work :/

67. What’s something that’s on your bucket list?

Make a nice home studio.

68. If you could change 3 things within your government, what would they be and why?

I would actually change the opponent party. They’re dreadful.

69. What’s your favourite holiday and why?

Xmas, because it feels like happiness.

70. What’s the kindest thing a stranger has ever done for you? Even if it’s TINY like holding a door open for you, something that you rememer even though they were a complete stranger.

A stranger helped me when my nose was bleeding like crazy and I was alone in a mall. He also bought me an orange juice.

71. Who’s your favorite cartoon character?

Motoko Kusanagi.

72. What’s the first song that comes to your mind while reading this and why?

Reptile - NIN. Don’t know why.

73. Put the 7 deadly sins in order of the one you commit the most to the least.

Wrath - Lust - Pride - Sloth - Greed - Gluttony - Envy.

74. What would you like to be the first dance song at your wedding?

I’m already married and we danced over Christian Woman by Type 0 Negative XD

75. Have you ever been told you look like a famous person, if so, who?

Someone told me I look like Butterfly from Death Proof and like Amy Lee from Evancescence.

I really don’t see it.

76. What’s one thing you can not live without?

Art. And music.

77. What is the most selfless thing you have ever done for someone?

Going away.

78. Do you hate someone.

No, I dislike a lot of people, I think the world would be better off if some of them would die, it I do not hate them.

79. What are 3 things that have happened in your life that you’ve never forgotten? Big or small, just things you know you won’t ever forget and still seem crystal clear now.

- Almost dying.

- Getting married.

- Signing for my very first house.

80. What comes first to you out of friendships and relationships, and why?

They’re equally important.

81. What’s your favourite children’s tv show/movie?

Muppets: a Christmas Carol.

82. What song makes you cry the most?

Together we will live forever - Clint Mansell.

83. What’s the funniest film you’ve ever seen?

Operation Petticoat.

84. What’s something crazy that you’ve always wanted to do?

Trying human flesh.

85. Has anything ever happened to you that you just can’t forgive?

A lot. Just, a lot.

86. What’s your biggest fear?

Being abandoned.

87. What is your favorite food?

Red meat, pistachio ice cream.

88. Least favorite food? Why?

Celery.

89. Have you ever felt ashamed about something? If so what was it & why?

Not that I recall of.

90. Do you keep a journal? If so what mostly goes in it? Random thoughts, feelings, stories?

I always keep a journal, I write in it pretty much everything, dreams, feelings, ideas, thoughts.

91. When was the last time you said something nice to someone & what made you do it?

This morning to my husband, because he deserves it.

92. How do you feel when someone says something mean/disrespectful towards your fave celeb?

Couldn’t care less? Everyone is entitled to his own opinion, even if it’s a shitty one.

93. What’s the saddest story/one that’s touched you the most that you’ve ever heard on the news?

Milena Quaglini’s.

94. If you were told you were going to have 3 daughters, what would you want to name them?

Violante, Lavinia and Artemisia.

95. Do you have a middle name and if so, what is it?

I have two. Valeria and Maria.

96. How did your name get chosen? What’s the story behind it?

My dad found it in a sci-fi book back when he was a teenager. It was the name of the first baby girl born on the moon.

97. What’s the craziest thing you’ve done for each of your faves e.g. waiting in line for hours, getting up early to see them on tv etc?

I watched a streaming reunion in the middle of the night on N7 day.

98. Are you a virgin?

No.

99. What are the stories behind your tattoos/piercings and if you don’t have any, would you like any?

I have wings because I’ve always been obsessed with winged figures and angels.

I have a lot of movies/books quotes because they all means something to me.

I have cherry petals because of Hagakure.

The snowflake is the reminder of a very important person.

The moth is for my self destructive tendencies.

The witch is a homage to me.

The strawberry is a silly Adventure Time reference.

The snake is a biblical reference to both Lilith and Satan.

The Santa Muerte and the black goat are both linked to my beliefs.

100. Do you want to say something to the world?

Stop being stupid, stop making stupid people famous, open a book.

[engulfedbymaleficsaturn]

What is Trust? Well it comes down to three fundamental concepts.

1. It takes work – we can’t just be naïve and trust anyone that crosses our paths. But, we also can’t be afraid to trust (no matter how many time’s we’ve been hurt in the past) And no matter how many times I’ve been hurt. I trusted you the minute I laid eyes on you. But , what did you do? You took your past and present hurts out on me. You talk about your stuff and how you don’t trust kids? What about my stuff, my sons stuff? I leave it all in your hands. Only to come back and half of it gone the other half out back near the burn pit? What is trust? I wasted my time searching the coast for a surf board and inspiration for you. I traveled back here for you. Because I thought I had one person that I could trust, that did care, that I could turn too. Only to find out later that your like everyone else here.

2. Accountability – Trust doesn’t mean that those we trust are perfect. What it means that they are accountable. Example- when I knew I was wrong in taking and drinking your royal crown. I took accountability for it and apologized. When I break something of yours I took accountability and apologized for it. No text, no heads up, and no remorse on your part. When I said help yourself. I said it because I trusted you. I trusted that you would of touched base with me. But guess what? You didn’t and my personal stuff that also was in there like my father’s box, gone. Still this whole time I still cared about you. I still took the time to do things for you. My son and his stuff. He wrote it off, I mean he is use to people fucking us over. I told him “Sometimes people do things because they are hurting. That doesn’t mean we should do anything to add to that hurt.” Followed with “Its just stuff and stuff we can always get again.” It’s insulting to my intelligence for you to sit and talk about trust when you can’t even be a prime example of it. And even more when you cant take accountability for your wrongs. It’s okay though I forgive you. You know why? Because you helped me graduate in the art of letting go. Losing my dad’s stuff was the final straw. I now have nothing that I can say I cling to. He is gone, the past is gone, and all that is left is now.

positive thinking...

4. Trust is actually the certainty that you can change destiny. In the words of the Tzemach Tzedek, a great mystic and teacher, to someone in need of healing: “Think good and it will be good.” Not just “think good” period. Not merely positive thinking. But that by thinking good “it will be good.” Trust is the absolute conviction that goodness will prevail, and that we have the power to make it happen. Have you once ever thought good? Or did you just past judgement? As if you and your stuff stood above us? As if you are better than us? Did you ever have certainty? I think not. It’s always just been about pity. You got your shit twisted. I mean after everything dent head is still out back. Who you know and is known all over town for being a thieving ass punk. But yet your worried about a 12 year old in which you can’t even set a good example too.

I’m quite but I’m not fucking stupid. I do notice everything, I sense everything and I’m aware of everything. Lack of trust in me or him isn’t because we deserve it. But only because a guilty mind is always suspicious. Deep down you know your wrong. Deep down you feel bad. Deep down the person you truly are and not what you put out to the world to be, cares. And that fucking scares you..

But guess what? You don’t stand above me. Because despite it all I can back who I am and all my imperfections. You think you have it all? But you lack authenticity; therefore you have nothing. Too think I ever wanted this, or ever wanted you. Boy, ain’t I a real idiot.

- Sincerity your reality check,

curve ball….the unexpected.

Yeah, I'm drunk and heartbroken but in the morning I won't regret it.

- engulfedbymaleficsaturn

[fandom-meanderer]

Beauty and the... [Pt. 4]

Beauty and the…

Pairing: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd x Reader, Sylvain Jose Gautier x Reader, Felix Hugo Fraldarius x Reader

Part: (4/?) [First] [Previous] [Next]

Genre: Romance, Drama

Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses

P.o.V.: 2nd

Word Count: 1,037 Words

Warnings: None

Further Notes: Sorry for the long wait, lovelies, I’ll be getting back to requests as soon as I post this! I hope you enjoy~

—

“Argh, my shoulders are killing me,” you complain. “I’ll have to ask Mercedes to help me out for a bit…”

“I can imagine,” Ingrid frowns. “Claude’s a hard teacher?”

“It’s not that he’s a hard teacher, it’s really on me. My stance was wrong this whole time,” you throw your hands up, “who knew, huh? No wonder I was a horrible shot. I’m too used to using a sword, I guess.”

When Claude first approached you, offering to help train you to use a bow, you were actually skeptical at first, mainly because he didn’t have anything to gain out of helping you. But he was actually an earnest teacher. Yes, you mainly focused on stance, but its the fundamentals that help you get better, a mastery of those leads to a mastery of other more advanced skills, still it was rather embarrassing that you had so many mistakes. Maybe you were best suited for a sword, you’d have to talk to the Professor later.

“Speaking of,” Felix chimes in. “I want another round.”

“Felix, as much as I’d love to say yes, my shoulders can barely hold the weight of my head right now. Claude made me hold my bow up with a perfect stance for so long that…” your words drift off while you shudder slightly.

“Oh, how could I forget!” Sylvain slaps the table lightly.

“What?”

“How was Dimitri?” Sylvain laughs. Dimitri sinks in his chair. “You broke the bow.”

“I broke the bow.”

“We can go again tomorrow,” you console. “Don’t look so down, Dima, it’s just a bow. Maybe I can convince the prof to let you handle a silver one so you have less of a chance of breaking it.”

“Let’s hope,” Dimitri nods.

“You honestly surprised us back in class, your highness,” Ingrid chimes. “We never really thought that you would show interest in using bows.”

“Neither did I really, then I thought about it more and realized at least a basic proficiency would be helpful,” Dimitri reasons.

“Huh? Where is it?” Sylvain suddenly speaks up. He looks around the table and under before patting himself down.

“What now?” Felix groans.

“It’s gotta be in the classroom,” Sylvain snaps his fingers. He grabs your hand. “Sugar, you’re coming with me.”

“What? But I haven’t even started eating yet!” You whine.

“I’ll buy you something later!” He shouts.

“But… I’m so hungry…”

“You’re like a magnet for lost things,” Sylvain dismisses. He pulls you up and drags you out of the dining hall. “Come on, sugar, this is really important for me.”

“Ingrid! Help!”

“Just let them be,” Felix pinches his temples.

“What did Sylvain lose that has him dragging (Name) into it,” Ingrid ponders.

“Sugar…?” Dimitri wonders. “When did he start calling (Name) that again?”

“It’s a long story, your highness,” Ingrid says.

“One that’s been told too often already,” Felix huffs, staring at the door.

~

“Aha! Here it is!” Sylvain holds a crumpled letter high. You sigh and look at it.

“A love letter.”

“Yup, written by one of the most beautiful ladies I’ve ever seen,” Sylvain says dreamily. He bumps his head on the desk on his way up. “Ow…”

“What a klutz,” you laugh. “Okay, can you let go of my hand now?”

“What? You’re the one holding onto mine,” Sylvain looks down at you with confusion.

“No, no, Syl, I’ve been trying to let go for the past ten minutes.”

“Lying isn’t a good look on you, sugar,” Sylvain continues. You try to yank his hand out of your grasp.

“Sylvain, I’m not kidding, let go!”

“I’m trying!” He shouts. After a few seconds of the two of you trying to pull away, a horrible thought dawns on you.

“Syl, this really isn’t funny,” you panic.

“I’m not laughing,” he shakes his head. You look at your conjoined hands.

“Oh gods, are our hands stuck together?!” You try to pry your fingers off of his hand, but to no avail. “We need to go see Manuela.”

“Yeah, yeah, we do,” Sylvain nods. You stick your head out of the classroom first to see if anyone was walking by.

“Okay, we have to be really careful about this,” you instruct.

“What? Why?”

“Because, Syl, I’m really not in the mood for being attacked by one of your many admirers,” you hiss. “Okay now!” The two of you made a mad dash for the infirmary, just narrowly avoiding the glance of two certain tea fanatics.

~

“And that’s what happened,” you conclude. Manuela hums and looks at your conjoined hands.

‘Claude you genius!!! Oh I am sure to win the bet now!’ She cheers in her mind. “Oh that’s just terrible. Who would play such a prank?” She tries her best to sound concerned.

“I’m guessing it was one of the girls crazy for Sylvain,” you shoot him a side glance. “One of them probably tried to use a charm or something that would make their hands stick together, and now here we are.”

“Of course it’s my fault, it’s always my fault!” Sylvain throws his hands in the air, taking yours with it.

“Of course it’s always your fault! You’re the oldest so you should have the most responsibility!” You argue. “And I didn’t go and get some curse on my hand!”

“Aw man, this is getting nowhere,” Sylvain grumbles. “Well, what’s the prognosis, Professor Manuela?”

“I’ve heard of these binding charms before, usually they wear off by the next day, if I am correct,” Manuela says.

“We have to wait a full day until we’re separated again?” You jaw drops. Sylvain runs a hand along his face.

“That’s no good, I had a date tonight,” he says.

“This is a nightmare,” You bury your head in your free hand. “There really isn’t anything we can do, professor?”

“I’m afraid not,” Manuela frowns. “Now if that’s all, you can go now.”

“Thanks anyways,” you say sadly. You and Sylvain drag yourselves out of the infirmary. “Sorry for ruining your date, Syl.”

“Don’t worry about it, sorry for getting you caught up in whatever mess this is.” He holds your stuck hands up. “Okay, one day, one day shouldn’t be bad.”

“Goddess give me patience,” you plead.

[milk-colored-dream]

to feel, to feel.

word count: 3,286 words character: itadori yuuji, gojou satoru as support note: soft.

Itadori Yuuji left Sendai for Tokyo.

His departure was decided rather quickly―too quickly, even, with his grandfather’s recent passing.

However――

If he had one attachment to Sendai, it was most certainly his best friend since middle school, a soft-spoken yet determined girl, with a smile akin to a sunflower.

***

“You’re moving to Tokyo?”

“...Yeah, real soon.”

Itadori spoke in a rather weak voice one wouldn’t expect from him. He kept rolling his yakisoba bread between his hands, fidgeting non-stop. In stark contrast, beside him, his friend continued to eat her lunch box, relaxed.

“How soon?”

“...Like, tomorrow.”

Her hand stopped as she turned to look at him. Itadori felt like turning his eyes away, but he knew that if he were to do that, he’d regret it for the rest of his life.

“Tomorrow.”

“Yeah, tomorrow.”

***

Itadori had always known that her intuition was, most of the time, eerily on-point.

Even during the incident at school with Fushiguro――

“Sasaki-senpai, Iguchi-senpai, Yuuji-kun, please be careful,” she said, just two days before it happened. Those words came out without any preface: it took a moment for everyone in the room to actually process what she had just said. They were just chilling in the Occult Club room (although she’s actually part of the Tea Ceremony Club) with the two seniors of the club, doing occultically(?) productive activities.

“What’s wrong?” Itadori asked, as he put down the supposedly haunted, antique ouija board they spent all of their meagre club funds on.

“Yeah, that’s a bit too sudden,” Iguchi chimed in.

“Is it one of your ‘gut feeling’ thing?” Sasaki inquired, her voice filled with childlike excitement. After all they’re the occult club, and the girl’s extraordinary intuition certainly piqued her occult sense―which was why she half-forced Itadori to ask the girl to come to the club room whenever she’s free. Who knows if they’d found themselves the perfect research subject?

The girl in question looked down, “I... I think so,” she replied weakly, “Please refrain from doing anything dangerous, okay? Especially you, Yuuji-kun.”

Itadori pointed at himself as the two seniors turned their gaze towards him, “You’re being super specific...”

“But you know what, I understand the sentiment,” Iguchi remarked, “He totally looks like he’d jump from a fifteen-story building if it’s to, you know, save a kitten.”

“You’re telling me you don’t do that!?” Itadori looked at Iguchi in disbelief, “I mean, it’s a kitten! Kitten!”

Sasaki sighed, “Just let those two be,” she said, as she moved her gaze from the two who kept on arguing over how far they’d go to save a kitten, “Do you have a... more concrete advice?”

“Concrete?”

“Like, maybe your intuition is like a low-level version of clairvoyance, you know?” She explained, “Who knows if you could level it up so it doesn’t end up as just a vague gut feeling?”

The girl put a hand on her chin, thinking, “Hmm...” she started, “I’m not really sure... But I’ll try to ponder on it at home.”

Sasaki smiled, “Yeah, you do that. By the way, you’re not going to the tea ceremony club activity today?”

“Eh?” She glanced at the wall clock and immediately shouted, “Ah!! It’s already this late...!!”

She immediately tidied up her belongings and left the room after giving a polite good-bye.

***

――In the end, the incident happened before she could report on the results of her pondering, but for sure she felt guilty about the incident. Despite the incident being masked as something else altogether (curse explanations don’t really fly in the modern society), she must have felt responsible. After all, she could have done something, like stopping the seniors from doing a visibly, obviously dangerous thing like breaking into the school at night and opening the seal of a visibly, obviously ominous object like Ryomen Sukuna’s finger (although to be fair, at that time they wouldn’t have known it was the finger of the King of the Curses, of all things).

“Though she really shouldn’t beat herself up this much... after all, the seniors are safe now,” Itadori thought, as he briefly observed her features, “...She’s as small as ever.”

Since they first met, Itadori had always thought that she looked pretty. She’s not beautiful in a flashy way, but looking at her makes you feel at peace―especially her smile. Itadori thought that her smile looked kind of magical: it makes your chest feel warm and nice. She’s also humble and kind to others, although Itadori does think that sometimes she really needs to be more assertive. All in all, in the three years he’s known her, she had always been a good friend.

Though, of course it’d be a lie to say that Itadori has never held negative feelings towards her.

Especially when she’d show her warm smile to other guys, he―

“―Yuuji-kun?”

“Huh? Oh!”

His reverie was cut short as the girl looked at him in curiosity.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I’m super fine!” Itadori made exaggerated gestures to further prove his point, “So―”

“So I asked if your moving has something to do with the incident a few days ago...” She said, her voice lowering with every syllable until Itadori could barely hear the last words. Her voice trembled, and she wouldn’t look at him in the eye.

“...” Itadori hesitated to reply for a short while, “No. I mean yes, but no... I mean,”

The girl looked up to see him, and waited patiently for him to elaborate.

“I... when my grandfather died, I was told to help people. As many as I can,” he started, “And I found it.”

“You found... what?”

“I found the way to do it. I found... something I want to do.”

“And it’s in Tokyo?”

“Yeah.”

The girl paused, thinking. It took her a few seconds to finally look at Itadori straight in the eye, and said, “I understand.”

“I’m really happy for you,” she continued, “I’m glad you’ve found something you want to do.”

Itadori couldn’t avert his eyes from the girl’s sad smile and her glistening eyes.

“But I really wish you’d tell me earlier... stupid Yuuji-kun.”

He couldn’t help but to reach his arms towards her and pull her into a tight embrace.

***

Itadori died.

Gojou Satoru’s anger seeped out of him as he walked through the deserted hallways of the technical school.

Everyone who knew Gojou would, in unison, say that he’s a mysterious person. Fundamentally unserious, he always has his trademark frivolous smile on at all times―even when he’s up against a special grade curse, one that a normal sorcerer would call ‘impossible opponents’. Yet, today, just by looking at him you’d be able to feel his rage as it ran through the air, intimidating everyone in sight.

He had just gotten the information of Itadori’s passing from Fushiguro―and the only thing he could think of was, fuck the sorcery world. He’d understood how rotten the higher-ups are firsthand, yet he couldn’t believe that when he’s out finishing a job for them, they’d dare execute their shitty agenda against his cute students.

Only a moment ago he had kicked open a certain office room and retrieved all of Itadori’s belongings that was taken away by the school’s officials―and now he’s on his way to the morgue to see Itadori’s dead body firsthand.

Suddenly an unfamiliar tone rung from the bag he has on his hand, the bag filled with Itadori’s belongings.

“...?”

He rummaged through the bag and fished out a smartphone―certainly Itadori’s―and looked at the screen.

On it was written a caller name―a name unfamiliar to him. Perhaps Itadori’s friend in Sendai?

Gojou weighed on his options. Should he answer the call? Surely the caller would be surprised: after all, it wasn’t their friend on the other end, but an unknown man. Depending on the person, they’d perhaps even call the cops on him. ...That wouldn’t be good.

Yet, he once again looked at the caller tag.

The caller name wasn’t your usual formal name. It was a nickname―a rather cute one to boot―and through the notification panel Gojou noticed that the same person had called over around three times. Must have been someone rather close to Itadori. After another ring, Gojou finally decided to pick up the call whilst continuing on his tracks to the morgue. He slid his thumb over the screen, and after a second of silence――

“...Hello? Yuuji-kun?”

To Gojou’s surprise, a soft feminine voice welcomed him the next moment.

A girl... could she be Itadori’s girlfriend? But he’s never told Gojou anything about leaving behind a significant other in Sendai.

“Hello,” Gojou decided to reply.

“...Eh!?” A surprised voice rang out from the other end, “This is Itadori Yuuji’s number, right?”

“Yeah, yes it is,” Gojou said, “Sorry to surprise. I’m Gojou Satoru, his teacher.”

“Huh!? Teacher!? I-I’m really sorry for my rudeness! But――”

“You know, Yuuji left his phone in the classroom, so I’m about to give it back to him,” He cut in with his usual light-hearted tone, “He’s such a forgetful kid sometimes―”

“―I’m very sorry to interrupt,” her tone turned into a grave one, Gojou noted, “But are you not telling me the truth, Gojou-sensei?”

Gojou stopped walking in surprise.

“...What makes you think that?”

“...” The girl on the other end paused, “I’m sorry for being rude. It’s just that I can feel it.”

“Feel?”

“I don’t know how to explain. It just.... felt like something bad has happened to him. Please, tell me the truth...”

Her voice was weak, desperate, even. Gojou felt his interest piqued: she’s very sharp, too sharp even, for an ordinary person―although it might have been a coincidence. For a mere gut feeling, she sounded very confident and determined. Yet, there’s no way he could tell anyone outside of the school, much less Itadori’s friend back in Sendai, that Itadori has died. Once again he could feel boiling anger rose from the pits of his stomach. Gojou calmed himself down.

“It’s true,” He decided to reply, “He really did left his phone in the classroom. He’s currently out doing some field work, so...”

“...Really?”

She still sounded like she’s not convinced.

“Really!” He said, “You know, maybe he just tripped somewhere.”

“Tripped?”

She sounded genuinely surprised.

“Yeah! Sendai might be different, but you know, tripping is a really huge thing here in Tokyo,” he said, “Everywhere’s full of people, so wherever you trip and fall you’d feel super embarrassed since lots of people will turn to look at you. It’s really, really bad.”

“I... see...?”

“So that’s why, there’s no need to worry.”

“...Okay, thank you very much, Sensei...”

“No problem!”

Gojou was about to cut the call before she said something else.

“Please take care of Yuuji-kun well. He’s a really kind person.”

“...Yeah.”

The girl cut off the call, and Gojou could feel rage seeping out from each and every pore on his body.

If the situation allows, he would really be ripping the necks of those stinky grandpas up top right now. Honestly, fuck them to hell.

***

Itadori was, miraculously, resurrected back to life.

Ryomen Sukuna truly is something, Gojou thought as he led the way towards the underground movie room, where Itadori’s secret training will be held in. To regrow a whole human heart like that.

Some things still feels wrong on his mind, yet since there’s no way to make sure of anything, he decided to keep observing Itadori from now on.

“Gojou-sensei?”

Suddenly, the student beside him called, and Gojou reflexively turned his head towards him.

“What’s up?”

“Do you have my belongings?”

“Ah.”

In the midst of the confusion, he’d forgotten to give the boy his belongings back. He immediately handed the bag still on his hand, as he said, “Here you go.”

“Thanks!”

Gojou observed as Itadori rummaged through the bag. Finally he fished out his smartphone and after unlocking the phone, he immediately tapped the contacts icon on the screen. Itadori scrolled and scrolled until he finally found a rather familiar contact name: it was the girl calling for him some time ago, the one that Gojou spoke to.

Itadori weighed whether or not he should call her. After all, he’s supposed to be dead (and the only people to know his ‘resurrection’ as of now is Ieiri, Ijichi, and Gojou)―he let his fingers glide over the call button before he finally turned at Gojou and asked, “Sensei, can I――”

“Yeah, sure,” He replied, before Itadori could even finish his words. Itadori smiled brightly and tapped on the call button. After he put his phone on his ear, Gojou asked in a teasing tone, “Your girlfriend?”

“Wha-, huh!?” Itadori’s face turned redder by the second, “She’s just――”

However, before he could finish his sentence, it seems that the girl on the other side has picked up the phone. Itadori immediately corrected his posture, called the girl’s name and said, “Uh- umm, hello?”

“...Yuuji-kun?”

“Huh? Yeah, it’s me.” Itadori found it weird that she’d ask such a question. After all, it was his phone number.

Gojou quietly observed the exchange between Itadori and the mysterious girl on the other end of the call. Itadori narrowed his eyes fondly as he talked with her, perhaps unconsciously, showing his pure feelings towards her. You show this kind of expression and you said she’s not your girlfriend? That’s harder to believe, Gojou thought.

“I swear I’m really fine!” Itadori said, “It’s just that I know your intuition must’ve told you something, so I called.”

“...Yeah. What, you called me more than three times already?” Itadori’s eyes widened, “Gojou-sensei picked up the call?”

Itadori immediately turned to look at Gojou, but the latter has already resumed walking, rather innocently, towards their destination. Itadori hurriedly followed after him, still talking on the phone.

“Huh? Oh, yeah! Yeah... yeah! Gojou-sensei’s right!” Itadori immediately said, “I fell over on Shibuya Crossing. You know how it’s really crowded there, right? Yeah... It was really embarrassing!”

Itadori followed through Gojou’s white lie. After all, there’s no way he could tell her he had just died. She’d probably pass out from shock.

“You know what, you should visit Tokyo and we’ll have a day out together! I’ll have mastered the ways of the capital by then.” Itadori said, smiling widely, “Yeah, and we’ll have lots of good food. It’ll be fun!”

After a few moments of chattering, Itadori finally cut off the call, despite being a little reluctant. Right after, Itadori turned his head towards Gojou, with confusion clear in his eyes.

“Gojou-sensei, what’s with――”

However, before he managed to finish his question, Gojou cuts in with his usual frivolous smile: “Smoothly making date plans... aren’t you quite the guy, Yuuji?”

Itadori’s face turned deep red in a twinkle.

“D-d-d-d-date!?”

“I mean, what else is it but a date?” Gojou reiterated, “Two people walking ‘round Tokyo just the two of them. That’s literally the text book definition of date.”

“No, but we’re not even dating, so it’s――”

Gojou decided to just let Itadori go on his denial charade without interrupting. Yet again he thought of the rotten hearts of the sorcery world’s higher ups, trying to―and actually succeeding once―arbitrarily extinguish the flames of a youth’s life. Itadori Yuuji’s life―and love life―has just started. There are still a lot of things he’d experience in his lifetime to develop his own sense of self. Gojou swore he won’t let anyone bother his students’ growth.

And now, to protect his students, he has to do his part, too.

Finishing off his thoughts, he stepped down the rather narrow stairs with Itadori following behind him.

“I wonder what I should get for dinner. I guess I’ll go get some cakes from Aigre Douce today.”

***

“You know what, you should visit Tokyo and we’ll have a day out together! I’ll have mastered the ways of the capital by then.”

“Day out... together?”

“Yeah, and we’ll have lots of good food. It’ll be fun!”

“...”

“Hello?”

“Oh... Oh, sorry! It’s just that I’m really, really happy.”

“Happy...?”

“...Just by thinking of seeing you again makes my chest feel light...”

“Wh-wha...”

“I really miss spending time with you, Yuuji-kun. I can’t wait. It’s a promise, okay?”

“...Yeah, I miss you too, so much. It’s a promise.”

[innuendostudios]

We hit 200k subscribers! Holy heck! Here’s a small, celebratory video collecting my favorite bits and pieces that got cut from other videos.

If you like this, or the videos these bits were removed from, consider backing me on Patreon.

Transcript below the cut.

The Artist is Absent

If I tell you about what I did yesterday, you do what? You take a bunch of sights, sounds, tastes, smells from your experience and stick them together in your head into a complex picture of my experience? Well, that’s what I’m doing when I use my memory. I don’t have a prefab image of what’s happened to me in my life that I break down into pieces when I describe it to you; the act of remembering is building up from pieces, reconstructing reality from a mass of tiny sensations, and all a memory is is a set of instructions for which ones to assemble and how. This act is performed every time a thing is remembered. And the difference between my memory and your imagination is that, having lived it, I have way more sense memories than I could ever communicate, and the knowledge that mine actually happened to me. Those are really the only differences; you could characterize memory as “imagining things that actually happened,” or imagination as “remembering things that didn’t.”

The Artist is Absent 2

OK, quickie sidebar on what the meaning of “meaning” is in this context. I don’t want anyone to trip over this term and think I’m saying all art is part of some grand design, like I’m going to argue The Avengers is an allegory for the Bay of Pigs or something. I’m not using “meaning” in a lofty sense. If you wanna argue that the only substance to The Avengers is “it’s fun,” that’s cool. That’s still a meaning, but it’s perfectly valid if that’s all there is to it.

...I mean, that’s not all there is to it, it’s also about family, and about how being in a family with people who are different from you can make you a better person. It can teach you the value of selflessness, or the value of compassion over mercenary coldness, or the value of accepting yourself and your flaws, or help you fit your idealism into the modern world, or… deliver exposition, because Thor doesn’t have an arc in this movie.

But you see my point! All I mean by “meaning” is that there is an answer to the question, “Why does this exist?” If someone made it, they had to have a reason, anything from “I wanted to change the world” to “I wanted to make money” to “I was bored.” Those aren’t all great answers, but they’re answers.

Also, all creators exist within their culture, which means their works are products of that culture, and their contents will either reflect or differ from that culture’s values. Like, the fact that all the central characters in The Avengers save one are white, and all save one are men, means something. We can debate the whats and wherefores of that meaning and how much that meaning matters, but since things like race, gender, the military, and New York City, mean things to our society, they can’t not mean things in our movies.

And, let’s be honest: following The Avengers, Tony has PTSD from being a rescue worker during Something Very Bad that Happened in New York, and SHIELD dramatically expands the surveillance state and employs Cap in fighting terrorist threats, so, while not the Bay of Pigs, The Battle of New York is doing work as a 9/11 allegory. Both of these movies have been praised for exactly that.

But, let’s follow through: in our 9/11 allegory, the US government could not have possibly predicted nor prevented the bad Guys’ invasion, America is wholly innocent and has had no political or social impact on the Bad Guys, the Bad Guys are literally inhuman, and any amount of violence against them is justified, up to and including the Good Guys nuking them.

But whatever.

Bringing Back What’s Stolen

OK. A lot of psychoanalytic film writing comes from the 70’s, 80’s, and early 90’s, including gender analysis of horror films, and it can read a little Freudian: gender essentialist, heteronormative, and obsessed with the D. “Does this empowered woman look feminine? Well, she’s holding a gun, and I’ve got news for you: guns are penises. She’s smoking a cigarette, and cigarettes are penises. She’s wearing high heels, and high heels are penises. That slit in her dress that shows off her long legs? [Long Legs Are Penises]”

It’s a bit Second Wave-y. And not completely off-base! Like, I get it, Laura, sometimes a knife is a dick. (Symbolically, I mean.) But sometimes a stiletto is just a stiletto.

Bringing Back What’s Stolen 2

I want to stress that a trope does not define a character, and does not, alone, make her or the movie around her bad. I love a number of the characters I’ve cited. But when a movie, even a great movie, tells me, “Don’t worry, this woman is violent, but we’re not saying women at large are as strong or violent as men,” I feel condescended to. The lengths some movies go to soothe my ego, like I’m a seven-year-old who’s going to throw his toys against the wall, strike me as a big waste of time that could be spent on the more interesting parts of the movie. I’ll take another shootout any day.

WSGT3

Imagine you’re called onstage to do a cold reading of a two-person scene from a play you’ve never read. You don’t know the story, the characters, or even the stage directions. And the director hands out only one script to the other actor. You will have to improvise all your lines. The other actor knows the premise, knows the story, but they still need you to make the scene work. The person who knows what happens is trying to signal everything you need to you without straying from the script, while you attempt to discover your role in the story and perform it at the same time. That is the attention that must be paid. And, together, you try to make a story.

This is an exercise my acting teacher used to do with us, to get us listening to the other actors in a scene instead of just waiting for our cues. And this is how an adventure game feels.

DOOM

It was 1993, and we all knew about DOOM. It had a reputation. Many of us learned it existed with the same breath that forbid from playing it, in the same way we were forbidden from watching Beavis & Butt-head or Terminator 2. We didn’t have those kinds of parents. But most of us knew someone who did.

We came to learn three things about DOOM: that was intended for grown-ups, that our access to it was scarce, and that having not played meant getting teased by those who had. Some of us never asked if playing it interested us, we simply knew playing it was important.

And when we played - and we did play, on whatever computer someone had secreted the shareware version onto - it was like nothing we’d ever seen before. Amazing and terrifying, in the way that a kid alone in the house watching their first skin flick finds it shocking, because half-naked women and simulated sex are so far outside their limited experience. We had never seen anything close to this, and it unsettled us at first. But we played.

The titillation of an art student drawing a nude model lasts for the few moments between the dropping of the robe and the touching of charcoal to paper. Then nakedness becomes just another series of lines to render. We acclimated. When we fired our shotguns into an enemy, soon enough all we saw was an obstacle neutralized. We saw a series of lines elegantly intersecting a series of boxes. That’s not what our parents saw. Our parents saw an imp howling in pain as its ribcage burst from its chest.

And so part of playing DOOM became learning how to defend it. “I play DOOM for the gameplay” became a generation’s “I read Playboy for the articles.” When we got caught, we tried to explain the the lines and the boxes: The bullet wounds were just there to let you know when you’d hit your target. The space marine’s bleeding face was just there to tell at a glance how your health was doing. The enemies were Satanic hellspawn just to make it perfectly clear their function was to be dispatched by your shotgun. What we wouldn’t say was that all these things could be accomplished through other means, without blood, but we didn’t want to play Chex Quest.

What we couldn’t put into words, most especially under threat of punishment, was that, while the blood and gore wasn’t why we wanted to keep playing, it was usually why we sat down in the first place. DOOM was good, but being good wasn’t what made it important; it was important because it was illicit. Yes, we were kids, and we probably would play a game that offered us nothing but brutal violence, but if the lines didn’t pleasingly intersect the boxes we would soon stop playing. DOOM is loved today because there was more to it than that. Blood was captivating, but it wasn’t enough - we sat down, but we did not stay, for blood alone. What our parents could rarely put into words was that us no longer seeing the blood was part of what worried them.

Indivisible Talk

These are some fundamentals I want you to keep in mind as we look at the Right.

Everybody’s people. When I talk about the difference between the Right and the Left, I’m not saying “the Right does this and the Left does that.” I’m talking about things all humans do, and the difference between the Right and the Left is a matter of scale and proportion. If I say “the Left values data over gut feelings” or “the Right values family over extended community,” obviously everyone values all of those things. It’s a question of how they’re prioritized. But small differences in our priorities can lead to dramatically different worldviews. So when I say “the Right does X,” don’t get too hung up on whether the Left also sometimes does X, but try think about how it manifests on the Right versus the Left and what those differences between them mean.

People vote their beliefs, not their self-interest. The Left tends to ask things like, “Why would working-class voters who depend on Obamacare vote for the party that wants to repeal Obamacare? They must have been lied to.” And I won’t deny that a lot of lies were involved, but it’s a mistake to think people only vote for what’s good for them. It seems like this should be obvious; I mean, why do I vote to have my taxes raised to pay for someone else’s education, someone else’s food stamps? We tend to answer that by arguing it is in my self-interest, that a well-fed and well-educated population leads to a stronger economy and a richer culture, and that this will trickle down to make my life better in the long run, and I could make that case, but, really, that’s not why I do it. I believe in education, I believe in fighting poverty, and if you proved to me that neither would ever benefit me personally, I would still fight for them, because it’s the right thing to do. So when someone across the political spectrum does something that confuses us, it may be true that they are misinformed, but we can’t assume that simply correcting them will change their minds. Right or wrong, they are acting in accordance with their beliefs, they trust misinformation because it aligns with those beliefs, and, if you don’t understand what those beliefs are, you’re going to misdiagnose the problem.

Tolerance and sectarianism. A tolerant view of society is the melting pot, the idea that Real America is the combination of many different walks of life, all of which are valid and deserving of the same rights. A sectarian view thinks of one walk of life (usually one’s own) as the Real America, and this walk of life is one society should trend towards: that America is a Christian nation, English should be the national language, or the ideal family as nuclear and heterosexual. I think it’s obvious which ways the Parties lean.

But, again, these are human traits. Everyone is balancing both these impulses every day. And I don’t want us to split these into “tolerant good, in-groups bad.” Democrats who over-commit to the melting pot run into the Karl Popper’s Paradox of Tolerance: that, if you treat every group as equally valid, including Nazis, fascists, and the Klan, you create a less tolerant society. And treating one group as a greater priority than others is logical when that group is persecuted; there is a degree to which all minority activism is defending one’s family. So it’s a matter of knowing when to be tolerant and when to be familial, and coalition-building is all about being both at the same time.

End

Um. So. I’m not sure how to end this. Uh. 200k subs! Wow! I find that number very humbling. Thank you all so much. And back me on Patreon, if you want to and if you haven’t already. There’ll be a proper video soon. Uh. What do people usually do in these things, they do Q&A’s, right? People ask you “what’s your favorite movie, book, game, comic, anime, musical, poem, album, joke”? I’ve been wondering what it says about me that all my answers would be things I experienced in my 20s, or earlier. Is it that I don’t love things the way I used to? Or is it just that, the more art you experience, the harder it is to be blown away? Like, something can be better than anything I’ve seen before, but it can’t shatter the record the way it could when I was younger. But I’m not making a video essay about that, so: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, The Motion of Light in Water by Samuel R. Delany, LOOM, Sandman, The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya, Hedwig and the Angry Inch, A Woman is Talking to Death by Judy Grahn, a three-way tie between In The Aeroplane Over the Sea by Neutral Milk Hotel, Lincoln by They Might Be Giants, and Onomatopoeia by Jonny 5, and the lemon cookie joke.

[homenum-revelio-hq]

Welcome (again) to the Order of the Phoenix, Iyla!

You have been accepted for the role of non-biography character MUNDUNGUS FLETCHER with the faceclaim of  Tom Payne! We’re so excited you’ve decided to apply for a second character, as Caradoc has brought so much to the game! We really enjoyed how you included the differences between Caradoc and Mundungus and how that will affect writing and plot. Also, the slang terms were just delightful! 

Please take a look at the new member checklist and send in your account within 24 hours! Thank you for joining the fight against Voldemort!

OUT OF CHARACTER:

NAME:: Ilya

AGE: 32

TIMEZONE: GMT+1

ACTIVITY LEVEL: I’m pretty much still in the same situation as before. I don’t have yet a set schedule, but lately I’m trying to be more consistent with the time I dedicated to replies. I still fully intend to aim for more than a post a week!

ANYTHING ELSE: No specific triggers or squicks!

CHARACTER DETAILS:

NAME: Mundungus Fletcher

AGE: 31 (June 17th, 1950)

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY:  Demi male. He/Him pronouns. Bisexual.

Mundungus doesn’t have a problem with the gender he was assigned at birth, but if he were to be perfectly honest he wasn’t sure it fitted him perfectly. He sees it more as a well-worn dress that while it won’t sit comfortably it is at least familiar.

As for sexual attraction, he noted from a young age that he was attracted to more than one gender and has never made a big secret out of it. But he knows when he needs to be discreet about it.

BLOOD STATUS: Halfblood

Officially, Mundungus is a halfblood. That’s what one would find written on his Ministry file, and that’s what he says when anyone asks. But he has Goblin blood on his mother’ side, making him a half-breed (¼ Goblin).

HOUSE ALUMNI: Slytherin

ANY CHANGES: Low Level member of the Order. Previously an Affiliate.

CHARACTER BACKGROUND:

PERSONALITY:

‘But when all is said and all is done / Jefferson has beliefs. Burr has none.’

Far from being Aaron Burr, nonetheless, this passage came to me when I first thought how to describe Mundungus’ personality and it stuck because of the simple fact that Mundungus is the opposite of Caradoc.

Where Caradoc has a strong sense of morality and personal responsibility, Mundungus has little to no morals. He is ultimately someone who has no care for society and its rules, be it laws or social conventions, and has a somewhat cynical view about life. 

Yet, he never lets this stop him from fully enjoying life. If anything, seeing the ugliness in the world makes him do everything he can to savour the good and beauty in it with a carefree attitude. In a way, he shrugs everything off because in the end he won’t let himself be tied down by things that are of no consequence for him. And thus makes interacting with him, when being on good terms, a fun experience, if somewhat chaotic.

Because of his lack of regard for social conventions and laws, he often acts antagonistic towards law enforcements and people that work for the government and in general showing a rebellious attitude when it comes to respecting authority.

He’s also far from being the crusader that Caradoc is. Fundamentally, he is  a coward, always looking to save his own skin. Looking for any way to avoid pain, imprisonment, impoverishment, no matter what he has to do for it. Even, say, rob the dead or sell light drugs to teenagers or jinx someone in the back.

On the other side of that coin is loyalty. While he would never stake his life for ideals, for a group of people like Muggleborns or Goblins, not even to avoid living in a world run by Death Eaters, he would for that one person he is loyal to. Bound to fealty, one could say loyalty gets in the way of his cowardice more than the other way around.

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY:

A sound mistrust of wixen and the name he was stuck with was all that Dardanos Datchery, manager of young witches with talent and too much trust for their own good, contributed to his son’s life. Mundungus has never known his father aside from the tales he heard from others, and no matter how pink his mother’s glasses were with which she looked back on her past with the wizard, it was clear he was a piece of dragon dung and someone better not to have in his life.

His grandmother, Cleometra Fletcher, was his role model and teacher. She taught him all he knew about conning people and picking pockets, and the two were thick as thieves—pun intended. Despite being a witch herself, she also taught him to mistrust anyone and everyone and to rely solely on himself to live his life successfully.

While officially, she was an ‘artifact dealer’, everyone in the underworld, and a few figures in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement knew that many of the artifacts were stolen and part of the illegal deals. Still, she lived to be a free old witch, still pulling a smuggling stint now and then.

More than a decade ago, his mother, Calypso Fletcher, had been known in the Wizarding High Society and all those theatre-loving wix, as Kallisto Datchery. A stunning beauty and astonishing actress, London had fallen in love with her. Wixen desired her and when all their attempts were rewarded only by smiles and giggles, maybe the occasional cheeky kiss, then rumours started floating around that maybe it was all a trick. She had to be a Veela; that was everyone’s guess, incapable to accept she could be a common witch or better: that she was actually part Goblin. 

She had left that world behind, finding it too fake and her part in it a role too suffocating to carry without killing a part of herself, and exchanged it for an old rickety theatre that had seen all of his chairs empty and her family. She taught her son the love of theatre and being on its stages, but most importantly she taught him about courage and family when she chose to reconnect with her own mother and to be one to Mundungus. A mother who was there for him, always, and would teach him about life and its trick, even if it meant to leave behind her fame and the man she had loved for so many years. It was worth it, and she proved it to him—always making sure he felt loved and safe.

OCCUPATION:

Mundungus’ dream was to become an actor, and once he graduated from Hogwarts he was sure he’d make acting his career. Only, it didn’t turn out quite like that. He spent six months auditioning, both in the Wizarding and Muggle world, but each time he was passed over for someone else. When he tried improv and little open shows, he was booed out of the stage and ended up banned by the manager from ever going back because of how bad his acting was.

Still, not wanting to give up, he worked as crew in the theatre for a while before being thrown out for substituting a sick actor and causing the whole show to get what is considered the worst review on The Daily Prophet since its first publication.

After that, he found help in Aberforth Dumbledore that let him work at the Hog’s Head Inn as a bartender for a while. But that job, too, ended when Aberforth discovered that Mundungus sold alcohol and other illegal substances to Hogwarts students. He was fired and banned from ever entering the pub again, a ban still standing.

So, he made crime his primary job. From pickpocketing to little cons, from burglaries to elaborate con schemes. All while still trying to audition, sure that one day he’d get his break. Other jobs, bartending, shop keeping, all were part-time, just something to give to the Twiggies* and the Minnies** when they questioned him about some inquiry on criminal activities. “I ain’t anything to do with that, guv. I was doing me job.”

Since coming back from Paris, in the summer of ‘81, he’s back to holding just a part-time job. Right now he’s looking for a new one, someplace he can be helpful to the Order.

*Twiggies = slang term for Aurors. **Minnies = slang term for Ministry Employees.

ROLE WITHIN THE ORDER/THOUGHTS ABOUT THE ORDER:

Low Level member. He used to be an Affiliate.

Albus Dumbledore started approaching him early on, before the Order was the proper organisation that it is today. Mundungus refused back then. How dare a pureblood wizard approach him for help, not even offering anything in return?

But Dumbledore tried again, after he ended up in trouble with Aberforth Dumbledore and got banned from the Hog’s Head Inn, only to be turned down once more. And then again and again and again, but each time the Order of the Phoenix was something that Mundungus wanted to have nothing to do with. What good could wizards do, anyway? So he would return any favour he owed Old D and then parted ways.

Then came 1971 and things truly got dire for Mundungus, Albus helped him once more.  This time, he didn’t know how to repay him if not by working for the old bag of socks steadily. Mundungus ‘joined’ the Order in an affiliate capacity, taking orders given directly by Old D and him alone—he wasn’t going to be ordered around by any other wizards, thank you very much.

As the years passed and the war escalated, Mundungus found a new motivation to be in the Order. 

In May 1981, he went to Paris and considered staying there, enjoying life away from the war. But he found that while his instincts told him to rebel against Old D’s rule—why should he take orders from him and do anything he said?—loyalty commanded him that he went back. So, when everything turned a mess in France, he rejoined the Order with his loyalty to Albus Dumbledore going hand-in-hand with the feeling that the war had now grown personal.

So he, begrudgingly, moved out from the shadows of being just an affiliate, to take a deeper and more meaningful step into the Order of the Phoenix, deciding that he’ll show them, he’ll show all of them—Death Eaters, Order and Ministry alike—who was better here.

His role is to gather information from the Wizarding underworld about Death Eaters and anything of interest. He also provides the Order with illegal items, or things they want to keep under the radar of the Death Eaters and the Ministry, much like his counterpart, Lucinda Talkalot, provides for the legal ones. 

He is also very skilled at undercover work, though, sadly, every time he tries to show someone he’s just rubbish at it. Yet, he still comes from tales he could have only heard or seen if he had been in the room where it happened.

SURVIVAL:

He is squatting at 133, High Holborn Street, London, the old building of the now abandoned British Museum Station of the London Underground. Having fitted the building with all the spells necessary to make sure no Muggles or passing-by Wixen could find him, Mundungus is the only person living inside. The only other tennant is the Egyptian ghost of Nefertiri, who resides in the old tunnels underneath but sometimes pops up just to scream at him when she feels particularly cross or happy or bored.

Mundungus Fletcher would be the last person one could see risking their own lives for something like the Order of the Phoenix, and this is because he hardly ever appears to stick his neck out for anyone but himself, often disapparating out of a situation at the first sign of danger. He is vocal about his lack of care for society at large, and he has never let his air of indifference break in public.

He also knows how to lay low and disappear when needed, along with knowing how to make oneself useful. When it comes to criminal enterprises, he doesn’t discriminate against clients. After all, making sure his hands are on multiple pies is how he gets the Order the information they need, and how he gets his cake and eats it too.

It helps that people underestimate him. He is notoriously such a terrible actor, banned from numerous stages, that no one would ever think the witch in the corner of the Leaky Cauldron, seated strategically close to hear a very important conversation, is actually Mundungus Fletcher.

RELATIONSHIPS:

For all Mundungus’ indifference and dislike of an entire group of people, when things get on a person-to-person level, he can grow quite attached to people without meaning to. Yet, this still doesn’t stop to sometimes take advantage of them or drag them into his own schemes, no matter how ill-advised that is. He is a mischief-maker, though he prefers to be backstage of his own tricks most of the time when it comes to pranks—all to avoid the possible ire of his victims.

Because he is never one to wallow on bad and sad things, he often tries to cheer people up, even if it’s just so he doesn’t have to be around misery, and tries to always find something to laugh about. He cares little to nothing if he is the focus of ridicule, since he has learned to let insults wash by him without having his pride or feelings hurt by them.

While in the past he kept his distance from the other members of the Order, now that he has committed to being a member, he doesn’t keep himself apart any longer. If anything, he’s compensating a bit, trying to get into people’ spaces so they know he’s not going anywhere.

Albus Dumbledore: Mundungus has mixed feelings about Old D. He’s grateful, of course, for the favours the old wizard has done for him in the past and especially the latest one, that allowed him back in the British Isles and back into the Order. But it’s a resentful kind of gratitude, even now. Still, even with the resentment, the distrust he still feels towards the man and being a coward himself, he is never going to betray the man. He can’t promise he’ll stop stealing his socks, though.

Lu Travers: It had all started with an “I owe you.” Lu got him out of a very sticky situation with the French and ever being one to stand this sort of debt, Mundungus found himself helping them get into the British Pureblood Society and passing for one of those old sacks of entitlement and perpetual stink under their noses. At first, he hated how that shiny world got another Muggle-born to fall for it, but then he found himself drawn into this way past what he had owed Lu. Truly, it was beyond him what they saw into that shiny world, especially because despite (and because of) the quarrels, jabs and insults, he was growing to like them. But a promise was a promise, and this might turn into his best con yet.

Other possible connections:

Adonis Carrow: It happened and still does, that from time to time, Mundungus comes in possession of some fine artifacts which he would much rather not have found on his person. The thing is, often he needs someone to tell him what they are and how much they are worth, and maybe even help him find someone that might be interested in buying them.

Alice Longbottom: One might say it’s a side effect of being in line of work that Mundungus and Alice are to ending up crossing each other paths. He was used to getting stopped, now and then, to make sure he wasn’t somewhere doing something that law said he shouldn’t be doing. Sometimes the person on the other side of the table was Alice Longbottom, and he was always amused to play the part of someone that didn’t know what this twiggie got up to when off the clock. Just as she had to pretend not to know what he did for the Order. Still, he really didn’t want to test her acting skills, if she ever were to catch him for one his personal missions

OOC EXPLORATION:

SHIPS/ANTI-SHIPS: I don’t have any set ship. Like for Caradoc and as a general rule, I do prefer to ship chemistry. But I do want to point out that no matter how it can come off, I am categorically NOT shipping Mundungus and Dumbledore (either brother).

WHAT PRIVILEGES AND BIASES DOES YOUR CHARACTER HAVE?

Since childhood, the whispers and rumors of what he was have followed him along with all the chosen insults that were hurled his way. Half-breed. Half wizard and half-anything they could imagine, anything that could be demeaning and hurtful.

His grandmother taught him to not to care much for those insults and to take revenge by making fools out of those wizards.

Because of those past experiences Mundungus has a lot of prejudices against wizardkind: they all think themselves better than any other kinds. The one exception that he makes are muggle-borns, which he sees more as fellow half-breeds. Until, of course, they also get corrupted by that same thinking. Just as some Squibs have been. 

He tends to use his own prejudices as reasoning and justification for his cons. If wizards are so much better than others, they ought to prove it, don’t they? How can they be better, though, if they keep falling for his cons?

These heavy prejudices are reinforced by the one privilege that Mundungus has in the Wizarding World: being able to pass as a halfblood wizard. His looks are not so distinct that they draw attention, and his Ministry file reports ‘halfblood’ in the field ‘blood status’. While, of course, some still think themselves better than Mundungus, it’s impossible not to notice how differently they behave with him when it’s halfblood instead of halfbreed.

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO?

As I mentioned, I usually avoid Marauders Era RPs but Mundungus was my first love. Especially because I like to challenge people’s idea of who he is. Yes, he’s the amoral, cowardly thief we see in the books, but I also think that Mundungus is someone that has lost a lot. Lost friends and probably lost himself.

Watching the movies we tend to forget how young the marauders were when they met their demise, and how many of those that were in the Order died or disappeared. Who was left? Mundungus was, and I think surviving took its toll on him.

I look forward to playing him during the war with a destiny that is not set in stone. Maybe someone could teach him some morals, or give this Cowardly Lion a bit of courage. Who knows.

PLOT DROP IDEAS:

In terms of character-related plots, I’d love for Mundungus to start becoming loyal not just to Dumebledore but others within the Order. Seeing his cowardice tested time after time by this newfound loyalty, too.

Having Mundungus create a bit of ‘innocent’ chaos, by helping people with pranks and agree with any conspiracy theory it comes his way: the more absurd the better.

ANYTHING ELSE?

He’s a Gemini and a Slytherin: https://hp-aesthetic.tumblr.com/post/146954905907/gemini-slytherin-moodboard-slytherin-geminis

EXTRA FOR NON-BIO CHARACTERS:

PAST:

Growing up with his grandmother, a thief, Mundungus came to learn everything there was to know about surviving on the streets of the Wizarding Underworld, while his mother, a stunningly beautiful half-goblin actress, taught him to love the theatre. His dream was to become an actor, but alas every time he tried, he ended up botching the part so badly that even today, people are still recovering from the failure and second-hand embarrassment they’d felt that night. Yet, away from the limelight, Mundungus was a master of working under cover. He could transform himself completely and pass for a whole different person, conning people out of their money and any valuable information for future schemes. Unfortunately, because of the secretive nature of this particular stage, no one would ever know how great of an actor he truly was. Being, in fact, so good that, but for a few exceptions, no one ever even noticed they had been conned by Mundungus Fletcher. His face stayed a plain one, easily forgotten, and never associated with any of the many aliases he used. Never, until: Albus Dumbledore.

Flattered by the recognition but holding too much distrust of wixen, Mundungus turned down each of Albus’ offers to join the Order of the Phoenix and worked for the man only sporadically, when a favour was owed. The cause he believed in, why wouldn’t he want a fair and equal world? But because of his resentment against Dumbledore and those wixes pretending to care about the lives of halfbreeds, he only showed up to take his orders and carry them out—seemingly—reluctant. Nonetheless, whenever he succeeded in one of his missions, he couldn’t help feeling relieved and satisfied. Almost proud.

PRESENT:

After almost a decade working for Dumbledore, something big happened. Something that could cost him his freedom, perhaps life. Albus offered to help him—in return for a favour. A big one. Bigger than any other ever before. So it became clear to Mundungus that it was time to call it quits. Time to leave Britain, to take his mother away from all this violence and to give her the life she deserved. Paris seemed a much nicer place, despite the French, and it offered new opportunities. Yet, much like Leprechaun Gold—even though at first it had felt good to be out of the oppressive shadow of war—the world there felt lackluster. The novelty of conning French fools soon wore off, and Mundungus became sloppy with his work. For the first time in his life, he felt bored and nostalgic. And the Order and its cause simply wouldn’t leave his mind. The threat of Death Eaters and their vicious plans for the Wizarding World had not reached Paris at that time, it didn’t affect him, but still he couldn’t shake the memories of his time as an affiliate for the Order. Yet for a man with little pride, he had just enough to stop him from taking the first Portkey back. He couldn’t go back to Dumbledore and the Order, no matter how he missed them both. Hence, when a young Muggleborn needed his help to con the Pureblood Society of Britain, he gladly jumped on the opportunity to go back home. To his mother it was obvious that Mundungus had only waited for such an opportunity to arise, an excuse to finally accept Albus’ offer after all, but Mundungus insisted that he was being selfless, and solely doing this for the young Muggleborn in distress. Either way, he returned to Britain, let Albus wash his name white and in return paid his debt: he joined the Order of the Phoenix.

FC CHOICES: Tom Payne. Taron Egerton. Michael Socha.

I like how Tom’s face has this youthfulness about it despite his age. I like to think Mundungus’ face has this same quality of looking old and young at the same time, making it a little difficult to guess his age.

[dreamersscape]

Note: This ask is from ages upon ages ago, and I’d like to offer my deepest apologies to whoever requested this. It was very important to me that I answer  thoroughly and in as articulate a manner as possible, and I’m embarrassed how slow accomplishing that took me. I hope that somehow you’re able to see this post, and you’re able to get something out of my rambling.

Thank you again for your patience in awaiting my answer, nonnie! I’m excited to put this headcanon of mine into words. It’s not often I have really specific and/or detailed HCs, I’ll admit; usually I stick to extrapolating off of canon. And while that’s sort of what I’ve done here, it seems to have happened mostly on a subconscious level, stewing until I realized a pattern forming within nearly all my fic plot bunnies.

It’s also possibly a key to how I understand Allan as a character, so… that’s kinda cool.

Okay, so Allan doesn’t really present as an overly anxious person, does he? At least, not in comparison to some of the other characters, like Much, who is utterly incapable of suppressing his anxiety. If Much is feeling apprehensive about something, you’re going to know it. So why then did I begin to notice my habit of, once he’s been stressed past a certain point, characterizing Allan’s emotional breaking points almost always as him tailspinning into a state of profound anxiety/panic? Well, partly because Allan just really REALLY sucks at dealing with negative experiences/emotions. His preferred method of coping with anything is to internalize the heck out of it, stuff it deep down inside, and then hope he never has to think about it ever again i.e. avoidance at all costs. And that appears to work… for awhile. He’s good at living in the present, ignoring past events and future repercussions. (Side note: a big reason why I also think substance abuse or other similar escapes could be quite alluring to him.) Eventually though, because it’s never been dealt with or even confronted, something triggers the release of all that pent up stress and negativity. He basically builds this towering pile of Bad Things, and so when it gets knocked over, it manages to completely overwhelm him. But until he’s thrown off-kilter and the pile loses balance and tips over, he’s mostly able to coast along, maintaining a relatively calm exterior while mired in turbulent inner seas.

Now, I realize I haven’t given much in the way of evidence for this yet, or explained why I think this all happens within the framework of a very anxious mindset. Hopefully I’m getting there. But that preceding paragraph is there to show how I find I characterize Allan as a result. (I probably wouldn’t have figured out this pattern of sorts if I could ever resist making things the Absolute Worst Imaginable Confluence of Events for Allan in my fic ideas, but that’s a “problem” for another day.)

What I’ve found is the key for me to get in Allan’s head and see things from his perspective is this: fear is his #1 motivator and it constantly feeds into his #1 priority, which is self-preservation. That goal of personal safety develops and eventually changes over the course of the show, but certainly for the greater part of the first two seasons, that is what primarily drives him. (For what I believe drives him from the end of 2x12 onwards, see here.)

For the most part, I’d say it’s pretty safe to say self-preservation-as-priority-number-one in regards to Allan’s character is generally widely accepted by the fans of the show. But opinions on why and how that came to be might vary more. I don’t know, maybe proposing that fear is the major driving force behind Allan’s decisions and behavior is not very revolutionary, but that is what I’d like to posit and explore in this post.

So, why do I think Allan is constantly consumed by his own personal well being above all else, to the point where its essentially become an automatic filter overlaying the way he interacts with the world? (I’m not intending to dramatically overstate things here, BTW; this is just how deeply ingrained I believe it is.) To me, this indicates at some point early on in his life something or a series of events convinced Allan that the world was an inherently dangerous place and you needed to always be on your guard for the next threat around any corner. This trauma could have taken a variety of forms depending on your headcanon,  but IMO it’s clear from Allan’s canonical behavior that it happened. Things that could point to this include, but are not limited to, the sparse background information we do learn about (Tom abandoning him and simultaneously stealing all his belongings, his apparent total lack of vocation despite his father being a blacksmith) as well as how he interacts with his brother (his over-identification with Tom–”I was like him once”–mixed in with the understandable trust issues, Tom’s borderline antisocial behavior in general, and I also wrote here about how their dynamic possibly alludes to a dysfunctional home life). With that as a fundamental part of your worldview, it’s easy to understand why you and your anxiety might have become good friends. He has no base level understanding or measure of being/feeling safe. Or maybe he once did, but there isn’t a way to go back or recapture that.

Another component of Allan’s anxiety I’d like to highlight is his personal locus of control. Locus of control is a psychology term that evaluates ‘the degree to which people believe that they have control over the outcome of events in their lives, as opposed to external forces beyond their control.’ It’s usually described in terms of being internal (belief that one can control one’s own life) or external (belief that life is controlled by outside factors which the person cannot influence, or that chance or fate controls their lives). ‘Individuals with a strong internal locus of control believe events in their life derive primarily from their own actions: for example, when receiving exam results, people with an internal locus of control tend to praise or blame themselves and their abilities. People with a strong external locus of control tend to praise or blame external factors such as the teacher or the exam.’ I definitely believe Allan has an external-based locus of control, and I think we see this in how reactive and defensive he is to his environment and in his tendency to shift the blame or not take personal responsibility for his actions. As opposed to Marian’s and Robin’s “everything is a choice” mantra, Allan often feels he has/had “no choice”, or feels “stuck”. Consequently, this lack of perceived ability to dictate and be accountable for one’s actions can make you feel very powerless. And if you believe the world is a unpredictable, dangerous place and there’s little you can do to affect or change that, you’d likely feel pretty fearful and anxious. Indeed, there has been research that concludes that people with an external locus of control tend to be more stressed and are more prone to clinical depression.

Now, I realize the preceding two paragraphs are either relying heavily on speculation or pretty technical terminology, so I’d like to conclude by referring directly to Allan’s behavior as evidence of his frequent anxiety. It is still in production, but I am working on a comprehensive gifset of every time Allan outwardly demonstrates anxiety. I’ll link it here once it’s finished. (Spoiler warning: it’s going to be a whopper of a gifset.) But until then, I think it’s notable that Allan exhibits a wide range of behaviors that typically denote anxiety. Licking his lips, swallowing/gulping, sweaty palms, fidgeting with something in his hands (could also be a sign of excess energy, but there are three instances of this in the first two episodes of the show alone, and this often seems to happen when it’s implied Allan has excess nervous energy), shifty eyes or a gaze that is unable to meet anyone else’s, hands on head in dismay, etc. It’s subtle because Allan’s doing his best to suppress it–he doesn’t want it to show because that would mean looking vulnerable/weak, which is not safe and a terrifying prospect when you live in a unpredictable, dangerous world–but if you’re looking for it, it’s there.

In summary, on the outside Allan projects a calm, self-assured, doesn’t-take-anything-too-seriously, cheerful, amiable image. And that is a legitimate part of who he is. He’s cultivated that facade for so long that it has taken on a life of its own. However, on the inside, he is ALSO a lot of the time an unsure, self-doubting, self-destructive, fearful, angst-ridden bundle of nerves. So that’s why when I read a story where Allan is ONLY portrayed as the former with none of the latter, it just doesn’t feel like Allan to me. In those cases, it’s as though I’m reading about a vaguely Allan-shaped empty shell. And I get it–it’s hard to always show all those sides of Allan when he’s not one of the main characters or he’s not the primary focus of the fic. Or the author might not be at all inclined to have Allan’s role be more than a surface level portrayal, and that’s okay. Not everything should be about Allan! But I also think there is often room for hints; Allan’s facade does have cracks. All this to say, Allan’s layers and contradictions are an intrinsic part of his character’s essence for me, including his anxieties/insecurities/fears, and his life has largely been built on that apprehensive foundation.

TL;DR Allan’s anxiety not only exists, it dictates much of what he thinks, says, and does, and the poor guy needs a ton of therapy.

sources for the locus of control info:

Rotter, Julian B (1966). “Generalized expectancies for internal versus external control of reinforcement”. Psychological Monographs: General and Applied. 80: 1–28. Carlson, N.R., et al. (2007). Psychology: The Science of Behaviour - 4th Canadian ed.. Toronto, ON: Pearson Education Canada. Benassi, Victor A; Sweeney, Paul D; Dufour, Charles L (1988). “Is there a relation between locus of control orientation and depression?”. Journal of Abnormal Psychology. 97 (3): 357–367.