#the reason should be clear to you but if you figure it out I'll give you free brownies

[blondiexbiites]

@vulpuslunae : 📼📼- Send 📼 to see an early childhood memory of my muse’s

Madison’s nose was running. Sniffling, she used the sheet to wipe it, knowing Mommy wouldn’t like it and call her a dirty child, but Maddie didn't care! She was mad at her, and it was her fault she was crying, anyway, and if she weren’t crying like a big baby, her nose wouldn’t be running. Maddie's bottom lip stuck out a little as she sniffed resentfully, almost hoping there would be more snot so she could wipe her nose on the bed sheet again. It wasn’t fair that Mommy sent her to bed without dessert. She wanted to play with Uncle Reggie and eat ice cream with him just like they always did whenever he came to visit from Europe. It wasn't fair! It wasn't fair!

Tomorrow wasn’t even a school day; she had another week of Christmas vacation, and Mommy always let her stay up later on the weekends if she was a good girl and behaved at every dinner party Daddy hosted at the country club. But tonight, she’d sent her to bed before her bedtime, when Uncle Reggie came over. Now her tummy was rumbling, Uncle Reggie was upstairs with Mommy, and Mommy still wouldn’t let her stay up. She was seven years old, not a dumb baby like Beverly. It wasn’t fair! Maddie knuckled the wetness from her eyes, her heart swelling with outrage.

She always got to play with Uncle Reggie, who got down on the floor with her to play dollies with her and brought her premium boxed chocolates from France and pretty dresses to wear. Whenever Mommy fussed about it, he always said, “Now, Linda—” that was Mommy's name “—all little girls deserve to have pretty things.” Then he’d gently tug at her curls and say, “Right, sweetie?” It always made Maddie feel happy inside when Uncle Reggie called her “sweetie.” No one else did. Not even Daddy.

[firewasabeast]

Make It Ours

aka the one where Tommy asks Buck to move in

It started a little ridiculously. Buck didn't usually decorate his place for Halloween, but in his excitement over Bobby being back he'd gotten way too much for the firehouse and had a lot left over. So he took some paper bats home and hung them from his ceiling.

That should have been the end of it.

“We've got enough candy for a small army, I'm sure,” Buck said, resting his head on Tommy's chest, a hand softly rubbing over his pec.

“We don't really have any kids that come out to Harbor. A few of the kids whose parents are on shift will stop by, but that's about it.”

“Were you a Halloween fan growing up?” Buck asked, chills running up his spine as Tommy's fingers massaged his scalp.

“Oh yeah. We didn't really have the money to afford costumes, but I'd make stuff from old sheets or clothes that didn't fit me anymore. There was one year where-” Tommy stopped suddenly, and Buck looked up at him to see him staring out over the loft. “Are your bats animatronic?” he asked.

Buck's eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

Tommy nodded his head in their direction. “They're moving.”

“Oh,” Buck glanced back briefly. “Probably the air coming on. Makes them swing sometimes.”

Tommy halfway settled back into the bed, but it didn't last very long, because soon enough one of those “decorations” started flying directly into the bedroom. Then there was another, and another.

“Evan, you have bats!” Tommy exclaimed.

“I- oh my God, I have bats!”

Ironically, Tommy did not love all things that flew. Buck had known this since they went to the zoo two months into their relationship and ventured into the butterfly exhibit. That's when he saw Tommy dripping with sweat, barely taking a breath and clutching Buck's hand until he asked what was wrong.

And now, watching a 6'2 man made mostly out of muscle race to put on a shirt and shorts, foregoing underwear completely, so he could duck out of the loft with a yelp was truly fascinating.

The fact that he only stopped briefly to give Buck a kiss and tell him to grab his things and meet him at his place was the icing on the cake.

That man was inside me twenty minutes ago, Buck thought, a baby bat swooping above him. He felt nothing but pride.

Within an hour, he was bringing a suitcase and work duffel into Tommy's place. Tommy, on his part, had emptied him two extra drawers to go along with the one he already had there. He'd made space for him in the bathroom as well, and cleared a section of the kitchen counter because, “I figured you'd bring some of your cooking stuff with you.”

He wasn't wrong.

It took a few weeks for the bat issue to be resolved, due to the fact that Buck's landlord was out of town and no one else seemed to know what to do.

Once the place had been cleared of the bats, it took extra time for Buck to be able to air out his place and clean the droppings that had been so graciously left behind.

It didn't help that he had a pretty busy schedule, taking extra shifts before he knew he'd have a bat problem.

Eventually, Buck ran out of reasons to keep himself at Tommy's place.

One morning, as he got ready for his 24 and Tommy got ready for his 48, he decided it was time. “I think my place is now free and clear of everything the bats left behind,” he said, pouring coffee into Tommy's travel mug, then swapping it out for his own. “I'll be able to pick up all my stuff after my shift and get out of your hair.”

“Hm," Tommy hummed. "You should just move in here." It was so nonchalant it sounded the same as when he ordered his usual from the taco bar down the street.

Buck froze mid pour. “I- I should what?”

“Move in with me,” he repeated with a shrug, “if you want.” He walked over to Buck and pressed a kiss to his temple. “Think about it, Babe. I gotta go. Love you.”

“Yeah, I- I... I love you too.”

Tommy grabbed his mug off the counter and headed out the door, leaving Buck feeling like a deer in headlights.

Part of him wanted to chase Tommy out the door and ask, “How dare you ask so casually?!” The other part was eternally grateful Tommy exited briskly and gave him time to think it over.

Because, wasn't it too soon? He'd only ever done this moving in together thing one other time, and that wasn't exactly for a good reason.

They'd only said I love you for the last couple months. The words still sounded new, still made his heart swell every time they came out of Tommy's mouth. Still blushed when he said it back.

And did Tommy actually mean it? He did have a dry sense of humor that was sometimes easy to miss. Maybe this was one of those times. It was just a joke and he was meant to brush it off with a laugh.

He wasn't sure how long he actually stood there with a half filled mug of coffee in front of him, but eventually his phone dinged and pulled him out of his thoughts.

Stop panicking. Yes, I meant it. Seriously, just think about it.

Buck rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the smile that rose on his face.

Hate you. Be safe.

He only had to wait a few seconds for a reply.

Love you too. You be safer.

*****

“I'm kind of freaking out,” Buck said as Maddie grabbed her lunch from the fridge.

“Why are you freaking out?”

“Tommy asked me to move in with him.”

She paused briefly, eyebrows going up as she stood at the counter. “Really?”

“Yeah, yeah. Wh- Why really? You think it's too soon, don't you? It's too soon. That's what I thought when he asked, well suggested is more like it. He suggested I move in, and then told me to think about it, and then he left for work and then I left for work. And he told me not to panic and that he actually meant it, but-”

“Buck, I didn't mean anything by my really,” she interrupted, reaching out and squeezing his hand. “Honestly, I figured that was gonna happen once you stayed with him during the whole bat thing.”

“Really?” he asked, surprised. “I- I mean, you did?”

“You already spend more time at his place than your own. The bats were taken care of, what, almost a week ago?”

“Yeah.”

“And how many nights have you stayed at your place since then?”

“Well... Well, I had to work a couple of those days,” he tried to reason, “and then it made more sense to go to his place because we wanted to see each other but we were both tired from work.”

“You don't have to explain yourself, Buck,” she assured him. “I'm only saying it's not actually all that surprising.”

When Buck didn't look any more relieved than when he'd come into the call center, Maddie continued, “Have you made a pro/con list?”

He pulled a piece of paper from his back pocket and laid it on the countertop for Maddie to take. “Of course I did.”

She picked it up and read it over. “Great butt is number three? Did not need to know that.”

“It- It's a very detailed list,” he replied seriously.

“I can see that,” she agreed. “Although I can't help but notice there are no actual cons on this list.” She slid the paper back to him.

“That's why I'm freaking out.”

“Is this a bi crisis?” Josh asked, walking into the break room. “Because, if so, I feel like I should be involved. Also, I've been listening and I have something to say. May I?”

Buck nodded his head, resting his hands on the countertop. “Please. I- I could use all the help I can get.”

“Great. First of all, why are you trying to talk yourself out of it?”

“Because... Because, seven months ago I didn't even know I was bi, and then there was Tommy. And it's been great. He's funny, and kind, and he listens, and he's so hot-"

"Okay," Maddie waved for him to move on.

"Even when we argued, you know, we stuck around and worked it out. It's the healthiest relationship I've ever been in. It's the happiest relationship I've ever been in.”

“God, this sounds awful,” Josh deadpanned.

“Yeah, listen, Buck, if you don't want him I'll take him,” Maddie added with a smile. “I don't think Howie would mind.”

Buck grinned. “I'm just saying, it all seems so fast. I keep trying to think of reasons to say no, or wait a few more months, but I- I can't.”

“Okay, maybe you can't think of a reason to say no, because there's no good reason to say no,” Josh replied. “How's it been staying with him while the bats took over your place?”

“It's... It's been great. I thought there would be a big adjustment, but there really wasn't. He hasn't seemed bothered by my stuff being there, and it's been nice having someone to, ya know, come home to,” he added, a blush rising on his cheeks.

“Have you had any of the big conversations yet?” Maddie asked. “You know, kids, marriage, stuff like that?”

“Mhm. We agree on everything.”

Josh glanced at Maddie before replying. “I really don't see the problem here, Buck.”

“You don't think it's too soon?”

“I think,” Josh sighed. “I think life is really short, which you probably know better than anybody. And if Tommy makes you as happy as it sounds like he does, then you're the only one stopping you from that happiness.”

Buck rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a deep breath. “Sometimes, I still feel like a fraud,” he admitted. “Like it all came too easy. You know, I- I've heard how rough it was for Tommy to come out and all the crap he went through for years. I figure out I like guys and get a boyfriend in the same day, six months later he's asking me to move in and I can picture my entire life with him.”

“I think that's your brain messing with you,” Josh said. “Because to me, it sounds like you've had thirty-three years of searching for something that feels real, and good, and settled. And you've found it with Tommy.”

Maddie nodded. “I agree. He's good to you, Evan. Everyone can see you two love each other. I can honestly say I've never seen you happier or more sure of yourself. You don't need to doubt that. You need to let yourself have a win.”

A smile started to grow on Buck's face. He was pretty sure he'd already made up his mind, but there was still one thing that worried him. “What if it doesn't work out?”

“Then you do the opposite of what you're about to do,” Josh answered simply, “and you move back out.”

*****

Tommy already knew Buck was at his place before he got inside. The giant Jeep in his driveway was always a dead giveaway.

Half of him expected Buck's things to be neatly packed up by the door, ready to move back into his loft until his lease was officially up.

The other half expected him to be sitting on the couch with a downcast look on his face that said I'm not ready to move in with you without having to actually say it.

What he didn't expect was the door to swing back on him due to it slamming into boxes.

Once he managed to hold the door open and scoot inside, he looked around at well over twenty boxes that were littered around the entryway of his place, leading into the living room.

“Evan?” he called out, a smile already on his face.

“Here!” he exclaimed, exiting Tommy's bedroom and hurrying down the hall. “Here, I'm here! So-” Buck paused briefly to give Tommy a peck on the lips, then continued through the maze of boxes as he headed for the kitchen, Tommy following behind. “This isn't everything, obviously, but I don't actually think I'll be bringing all that much from my place. The bats pooped on a lot. Like, a whole lot. Plus, I like your furniture. The kitchen will have to have some new appliances, but I already ordered what the bats, you know, pooped on. You need to let me know what appliances have a family history for you- if that's a thing- before I throw them out. Some of this stuff is, well, it's terrible. Why don't you sharpen your knives, Tommy? Mind blowing. I know the boxes are kinda a mess, but I didn't want to unpack without you because that feels like me just taking over, ya know, and I don't wanna-”

Buck was stopped by Tommy grabbing hold of his hand and pulling him in close. He wrapped his arms around Buck's waist, and Buck's arms rested over Tommy's shoulders.

“I'm guessing this is a yes to moving in?” Tommy asked, nose scrunching up in a smile.

Buck let out a deep breath, grinning back. “Yes. It- It's a yes.”

“You didn't freak out too much?”

“I didn't freak out at all,” Buck protested weakly.

“Evan.”

“Okay, I freaked out a little,” he replied, ducking his head, “but not for the reasons you think.”

Tommy tilted Buck's chin so their eyes met. “What reasons?”

“I... The fact there wasn't a reason to say no. I- I freaked because it felt like it should feel too soon, but it didn't. It doesn't. It feels right.”

That's when Tommy leaned in for a kiss far less chaste than the one Buck had given him when he opened the door.

“Do we have to start unpacking tonight?” Tommy asked when they parted, resting their foreheads against one another.

Buck shook his head. He brought his hands to the nape of Tommy's neck and drew him in again, his tongue parting Tommy's lips. Clumsily, they began making their way toward their bedroom without letting one another go.

“Maybe we could work on christening the place then?” Tommy suggested, his nose brushing up against Buck's cheek. “For good luck or whatever.”

“Mmm,” Buck moaned, grabbing at the hem of Tommy's shirt and pulling it over his head quickly, tossing it on top of a box. “You have the best ideas, roomie.”

Tommy snorted at that, his head tossing back in laughter. “God, I love you.”

Somehow, they managed to make it to the bedroom, and Buck gently pushed Tommy down before crawling over him, leaning down to whisper against his lips, “I love you too.”

[strangersteddierthings]

Sequel to Good People - The fic in wherein Wayne doesn't like Steve and overheard a conversation he shouldn't have. Here's the aftermath of that :3

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part

-

Wayne had stayed in his bedroom long after he heard the boys leave. Eddie had knocked on his door to let him know he'd be staying at Steve's and to not expect him back until late tomorrow, a courtesy he'd never shown until after he'd been the victim of a manhunt back in spring. Wayne never asked him to do that but he thinks Eddie picked up on how worried Wayne would get if he were gone for any amount of time.

Eddie's always been good at reading people when he bothers to pay attention to them. Maybe that should have been enough reason for him to give pause to his dislike of the Harrington boy, instead of needing to overhear the boy crying about how he thinks there's something rotten deep within him that only Wayne can sense.

He'd been so sure he knew what kind of person Steve Harrington was. Eddie had been hung up on boys just like him pert-near his whole life, Wayne thinks, and it's never ended differently.

It's a Tuesday night and his friends usually gather at the bar on Friday nights, but Wayne needs to get out of the trailer to think. A beer might help. So, he grabs his keys and heads out.

He's been a regular at this bar since before he was even old enough to drink. Used to come with his pa, may he rest in peace, just to get out of the house. He's been a patron longer than any of the staff have worked there, he realizes.

"Hello Linda," Wayne greets as he takes a seat at the bar instead of at his usual table. He'd done a cursory glace when he came in and confirmed none of his drinking buddies were in before choosing the bar.

"This isn't your usual day," Linda says, leaning a hip on the counter, "but it's always a pleasure to see you."

"I got some thinkin' to do," Wayne replies and Linda nods and moves away, returning soon with a bottle of his usual beer. She picks up the bottle open and removes the cap before setting the drink down in front of him.

"Need a sounding board, hun?" She asks.

Wayne does a quick survey of the bar again but it's pretty quiet so he returns his gave to Linda and says, "if you wouldn't mind too much hearin' about how an old man might have messed up."

Linda laughs. "You aren't even half a decade older than me, so you best not be sprouting that 'old man' nonsense around me, 'cause I am not some old lady."

"Terribly sorry, Linda. I'm just really feelin' like an old fool."

A small frown comes to Linda's face then. "Now what could you have possibly done?"

"Well, I guess I'm tryin' to figure out if I did mess up. Eddie's got a friend and I don't trust 'im. Thought I had good reason not to, but, well, I overheard somethin' I wasn't supposed ta and now I'm not sure."

Linda hums, "hmm, that doesn't sound like you, judging someone unrightly. You are usually a good read about people."

"I'll admit, I haven't bothered to spend enough time with the boy to, uhh, judge him."

"Wayne Munson," Linda scolds, "you best not be telling me you judged that boy because of other people."

Judging by Linda's raising brow line, he thinks his guilt must be clear on his face. "You know Eddie, and how people have treated him. And with what he just went through- I just want 'im safe. Sure, his new friend graduated last year, but he was on the basketball team his whole career. And I'm jus' supposed ta believe this one boy didn't side with the group who started the manhunt?"

"Unless you've got evidence otherwise, yes," Linda says, brows furrowed.

Wayne sighs. "I ain't got proof. I got a lot of people sayin' he's good, actually. But it's the Harrington boy. The same boy Eddie would come home and complain 'bout. Harrington, Hagan, Hargrove, though I shouldn't speak ill of the dead. All them boys treatin' Eddie like he wasn't worth nothin' until they wanted somethin' form him."

Linda's mouth is almost a perfectly straight line with how much she's pursed her lips the more he talks, but she doesn't interrupt and no customer calls for her, so he continues.

"And you know what Richard Harrington was like. I know y'all only shared one school year together, but Janice wasn't any better, and she was your year, wasn't she?" Linda gives him one nod in response. "That boy's a product of them. I- You can't fault me for thinkin' differently."

"So, when do you expect Eddie to end up in prison?"

The question throws Wayne and fills him with anger at the same time. "Now, Linda, I ain't likin' what you are implyin'."

"I ain't implyin' nothing," she says, using the same tone with him that he did with her. "I'm applying your logic. Eddie's a product of his parents, ain't he? Al's in prison, and his mama's long gone, bless her soul. And since Eddie ain't sick, last I heard, he must be following after his daddy."

The anger leaves him then, and all he's left with is shame. "Point made. And if I'm bein' fully honest with ya, I don't even need ya to defend that boy. That thing I overheard. That what's eatin' at me. He called me good people."

Linda softens, shoulders dropping, "you are good people, hun."

"That boy told my Eddie that I'm 'good people', and that his parents are bad ones, and I. I don't know what to do about that."

"He thinks his own parents are bad?"

Wayne nods, "is what he said. Thinks I can somehow sense he's also rotten just by association."

"There's nothing to it, then," Linda says, like they've already talked out the tangled mess that is Wayne's thoughts on Steve Harrington and have reached a conclusion. Well, perhaps Linda already has. She's always been bright, and she's usually right. "You, Wayne Robert Munson, need to apologize to that boy. The guilt and shame's gonna put you into your cups otherwise."

Wayne nods slowly, though he isn't even sure if he agrees or is just acknowledging what she said before he takes a long pull from his bottle before lowering both his arms to rest on the counter as he replies, "You're right as usual, Linda my dear. I just gotta let go of the fact he's Richard Harrington's son and try and see just Steve."

"Damn right. Eddie might be Al's by birth, but you raised him and he turned out alright. Maybe Steve got the same treatment. Had his own Wayne around to raise him right."

There might be a bit of truth to that. He's heard enough talk about Steve Harrington over the years to think that. One of his drinking buddies used to be Jim Hopper. He's heard about the amount of parties he'd had to go shut down at the Harrington's house, with no parents to be seen. (Always Jim's biggest gripe back then. "Where's this kids goddamn parents!?) Wayne always assumed their kid just took advantage every time his parents were gone, but maybe it's the opposite. Maybe they were always gone, and Steve had parties to not be alone in his house.

Linda's right. There is nothing to it. He needs to talk to Steve, properly apologize, and go from there.

"It ain't an easy thing, admittin' you might be wrong," Wayne sighs.

Linda reaches across the counter and places a hand on Wayne's arm just below his wrist. Wayne looks up from where he'd ended up staring at his bottle, making eye contact with her. "If your boy is friends with this boy, it's for a reason. Just give him a chance. You are one of the good ones, but even we can have a lapse in judgment now and then. Doesn't make you bad, makes you human."

"Ain't no one perfect but the good Lord," Wayne says and Linda nods in agreement.

"Alright. I'll leave you to your beer and your thoughts for now, but you best keep me updated on your situation. I wanna know how it goes," Linda retracts her hand and heads down the counter to check on the few other people sitting about nursing drinks.

Wayne sits in his thoughts more than he drinks, so by the time he's done with the beer it's warm but that's fine. He will talk to the Harrington kid, but he wants to talk to Eddie first. He owes his nephew that much, and he does recall Eddie saying something to the effect of 'he'll come around' to Steve, and Wayne wants to tell Eddie he'll try.

Also he doesn't want to just corner the boy after he's been somewhat intimidating intentionally. He's going to get Eddie to ask if Steve'll talk to him.

True to his word, Eddie returns home late the next day. The clock says it's almost 6 when Eddie finally comes through the front door. If he's surprised to see Wayne awake, he doesn't show it. He does work the graveyard shift, and he's got a shift at 10 tonight, usually wakes up two hours before his shift. He'd wanted to make sure he caught Eddie, though, so he's been up since three.

"Eddie, you got a minute?" Wayne says.

"Sure. What's up?" Eddie says as he pulls off his jacket, depositing it on the nearest surface before plopping sideways on the couch so he's facing Wayne.

"I gotta come clean. I overheard some of what you and Steve were talkin' about," Wayne says, because he's a man of his word and he's always been good at doing the hard thing if it also turns out to be the right thing. He's got to be honest with Eddie, so he can be honest with himself. "Heard Harr- Steve talkin' 'bout how he thinks I'm a good person, and his parents aren't."

Eddie's quiet for a moment, blinking owlishly back at him while he thinks. "Oh. Umm. Sorry. I just- I think this is the first time I've heard you say Steve's name."

"Not the part I thought you'd focus on," Wayne huffs a laugh, "but I owe your boy an apology and I was hopin' you could help me make it happen."

"My boy- what is happening," Eddie drops his voice to whisper the question to himself.

"What's happening is I'm doin' the thing I always told you ta do. Taking accountability and fixin' my mistake."

"Oh. Oh!" Eddie narrows his eyes at Wayne, "you've made an ass out of me. All those times I assured Steve you were just being standoffish and you were- what were you doing?"

"Intentionally keepin' the boy at a distance 'cause I thought he was gonna hurt you. I sure as hell ain't been friendly. I been judging him because I knew his parents, thinkin' about how an apple don't fall far from the tree," Wayne stops, giving pause to see if Eddie will speak but he isn't. He's just staring at Wayne like he's a puzzle. "It was brought to my attention that it's mighty unfair to judge someone 'cause of how their parents act."

Eddie's brow furrows and his lips purse. It makes him think of Linda. She'd made the exact same face. "I- Jesus fuck this is weird, but I. I think I'm mad at you. Disappointed."

Eddie doesn't say it with an angry tone, and his face still looks more puzzled than mad, but the sentence feels like a kick to the chest anyway. Eddie and he have never been mad at each other, not in the eight years Eddie's lived here with him. They've been worried and scared for each other that, or mad at someone or something else that they take out on each other, but never mad at each other.

"You've every right to be."

Eddie stands from the couch, paces down the hallway, and Wayne thinks this might be the end of any conversation tonight, but instead Eddie comes storming back up the hall. "So, what, did you take me in expecting me to be my dad!?"

"No. He mighta contributed to your birth, but we both know that man ain't nurtured you a day in his life."

"Yeah, well, Steve's parents didn't raise him either, so all this has been bullshit! You made Steve think he's, he's broken and a bad person! And," Eddie's eyes are wet and he's angry but also about to cry. Wayne hasn't seen him like this in a long time. Not since the day they learned Al was in prison, fifteen years with a chance for parole if he's on his best behavior. Eddie had been so angry, and sad, and hurt by the news. Eddie's like that now, worked up so much he's repeating himself as he hiccups his words out around the lump in this throat, "And, and you made me help him feel that way! Because I didn't take him serious when he said, said you didn't like him! I thought you were being, being a dad, all fake gruff to intimidate the guy I like but it's- you were- FUCK!"

Wayne lets him yell. He deserves it, and Eddie needs it. Eddie's not saying anything untrue. He takes in what Eddie is yelling at him; Steve's parents didn't raise him, and how Wayne's cold shoulder must have added to whatever else Steve has going on in his life.

"I, I h-held him while he b-bawled into my shirt last night! He, he thinks- and you, you didn't even trust me! T-trust my own j-judgment of, of Steve! I, I need- I can't-" Eddie doesn't finish the sentence. He turns on his heel and storms back down the hall, the slamming of his door finalizing this conversation.

To say that Wayne feels terrible is inadequate. He's hurt his boy, and he's hurt his boy's boy, and he's got no one to blame but himself.

Now he's got two apologies to make.

I tried to tag as many people as I could remember that expressed interest in a follow up fic. I am SO sorry if I missed you. Please let me know if you want to be tagged in the final part. I will only be tagging people who ask to be tagged going forward 'cause it's a lot of people to remember and my memory is garbage.

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss @unclewaynemunson @itsthestrangestthings @emofratboy @devondespresso @finntheehumaneater @loopholesinmydreams @yourmom-isgay @wrenisflying @emsgoodthinkin @messrs-weasley @madigoround @jackiemonroe5512 @gutterflower77 @zerokrox-blog @eriquin @samyuck @lunarmaruna @mugloversonly @kaij-basil-lionelli88

[bonbonly]

loveee your college au thoughts! i was wondering if you can write one for max or carlos with a trainee physio? something similar to your carlos thought but instead of first aid, if you could do giving them a massage. Thank you

bon's thoughts (18+)

collegeau!max's dumbass is the only one i see having a trainee physio, but not necessarily wanting one in the first place. he's probably whining and moaning the whole time about how his arm will get better on its own. he might've pulled it after crashing his kart onto a barrier and trying to grab onto something in the process. his reasoning was that if he played it enough on the sim, surely he'd be better in person, no?

the university offers a bunch of health services, and max's friends force him to book an appointment with the physiotherapist on campus. unfortunately, he got a call back from the department telling him the therapist was out of town for the weekend, but his lovely trainee was there and was willing to help him. max took this as a sign to cancel altogether, but then he heard your name and he raised his eyebrows and goes "oh."

he's seen you around before in the health services building, clumsily bumping into the doctors as you passed through the hallways, dropping files of paper onto the ground. and his personal favorite, watching you walk into one hallway, and then circle around with a confused expression as you went into another, completely and utterly lost. he figured he could have some fun with you, so he says he'll see the trainee.

and when he meets you, you're ecstatic! someone is finally trusting themself with you! you're bouncing on your toes, arms behind your back as you greet him with the biggest smile ever. max thinks it's a bit too much so early on a saturday morning for this much energy, but he lets it slide when he sees the tight shirt you're wearing which pushes your tits just a little higher than normal. it looks so soft, he wants to grab at them, but unfortunately his right arm wouldn't let him.

he does a few of the simple exercises you instruct him to do, jotting down a bunch of notes and he stops when you clear your throat.

"what's that?" you point at his straining hard cock in his shorts, and he blushes a bit, trying to come up with an explanation that didn't make him seem like a creep, "are you bruised there? should I do some checks?"

and his jaw drops when he realizes how oblivious you really are. he's using his left hand to pinch his thigh, to make sure he doesn't laugh out loud but he shrugs, "well, it's been aching for the past 30 minutes, but I don't think you could do anything to help."

"what are you talking about? of course I can help!" you beam, and max shifts in his seat, gesturing for you to come undo his shorts and free his cock. his tip leaking in joy at the sight of you on your knees, setting your notes down to the side which gives him an ample view of your ass. oh he couldn't wait for his arm to get better, he'd love to toss you onto his lap and take you right here.

"so, how do i do this? dr. bentley never really taught me much, i only ever worked with females," you sweetly confessed, and max's cock swelled even more than before. he lets out a soft chuckle, assuring you that it's ok,

"um, i think..." he pauses, his dutch accent stronger now out of his desire, "i think you wrap your mouth around and slowly suck." and he notices your brows furrow, a bit confused because surely no one ever puts their mouth there right? "trust me, it's the only way to make the pain go away, i'll tell dr. bentley how great you were."

hearing that was enough, and you obediently wrap your mouth around his dick, gently sucking him off. he throws his head back and you pause, fearfully looking at him.

"no, no, schatje, you're doing great, keep going," he groans, using his left hand to pat your head, or was it to make you go deeper? you gag a couple times, tears streaming down your face because you really want to make him feel better but this was so hard! "it's ok, don't worry, maybe I can give you a couple lessons in our next session? but this is only for me, because it only works for me. don't try this on any other patient."

you nod your head, letting him guide you as you lick long stripes against his cock, watching him take your hand and have it wrapped around his shaft, pumping him as you continued to suck. what a wonderful patient, you thought to yourself, he was so kind and helpful!

collegeau!max verstappen is more than happy to visit you again in the health services department, it seemed like his cock just would never stop aching for you!

[thewertsearch]

@hussianphilosopher submitted: Sally - longtime lurker, first time poster, big fan. I'm perpetually amazed by how thoughtful you are about Homestuck and how well you understand it for a first-time reader (you might be surprised how many people watch Cascade and don't actually understand that the Green Sun was just created, much less immediately put together everything Doc Scratch said and did that led up to it!). The high point of the liveblog for me was the whole arc of you being confused about how predestination in Homestuck worked, because, essentially, you had already figured out that the alpha timeline existed before the alpha timeline was introduced. You were confused about the story for a while because you understood it too well, too quickly! As someone who engages with the story similarly to you, on both the character level and the deep story/analysis level, I want to make what is a pretty contrarian argument these days: that the Epilogues are A. good, and B. canon. They're a tough read for sure, but I think someone who reads the story as deeply and pays as much attention as you do will really appreciate what they're trying to do. The Epilogues were also the last time that Hussie was directly involved with the story, and I think if you read them now it's very clear that the story is the culmination of ideas he was thinking about from very early in Homestuck (He said for years before the comic finished that he planned some kind of epilogue). The whole "dubiously canon" concept was part of a failed experiment on his part to try to step away and empower the fandom - the people who actually worked on the comic in that era always treated it as canon and referred to it as such. I consider the Epilogues the final canonical chapter of Homestuck - at a bare minimum I think it should be thought of as Hussie's take on a post-Homestuck fanfic, and I think it deserves attention. Of course I also think the story is good and interesting, which a lot of people don't, so, it's all a matter of opinion, but, as someone who's been following your liveblog and respects your reading of the comic a lot, I wanted to at least throw my hat into the ring on the subject. Incredibly excited to see what you make of act 6!

I really appreciate this honest, impassioned, genuine defense of the Epilogues. It's not the only one I've been sent, either - and quite a few of the others have also cited my analytical style as a reason why I might get more out of them than I realize. I can't pretend I'm not at least a little intrigued.

I've been thinking a lot about Homestuck's tie-in material while drafting my response to this message, and after some serious consideration, I've decided that I'm going to change my planned approach to the Epilogues.

I originally planned to read it in a more casual, less analytical manner, and potentially transition to a full liveblog if and only if I'm sufficiently engaged. Instead, however, I'm going to do the opposite, respecting the faith its defenders have in it by giving it the complete liveblogger's treatment from the very beginning.

I reserve the right to transition back to a casual read if I'm not enjoying myself, of course! But, rest assured, I'll only do that after giving the Epilogues a real, good-faith college try.

[pancake404]

Thoughts on Chapter 4 of Poppy Playtime

This isn't a drawing like I usually do but since I managed to play Chapter 4 blind without any spoilers, I felt inclined to share my thoughts about Chapter 4.

Right after I first played it, I, of course, a fan of the game, thought it was the best chapter in the series. But after the excitement died down a little, I put some more thought into it and read others' reviews on Chapter 4.

So here are my totally serious opinions you should absolutely think are facts as I am never wrong.

Insane Spoiler Alert for Chapter 4!

Pretty much the Chapter:

The Doctor bullies you and everyone else throughout the whole chapter.

Doey, the ally turned enemy as he tweaks out after we might've caused the Save Haven to blow up.

Every Smiling/Nightmare Critter watched JJK apparently because all they do is JUMP YOU.

We continue the trend of almost every toy we've encountered dying indirectly or directly by the player.

Prototype makes fun of everyone as he pulls the most epic prank and reveals he's been Ollie for presumingly a long time now(who would've guessed) so every plan Poppy discussed should be thrown out the window because he already knows about it.

Huggy is back to give us a warm reunion hug after we kind of unintentionally dropped him fifty stories.

Now starting with the central characters:

Player Character:

At this point, they are without a doubt, questioning their existence as all they came for(presumingly, I'll get to later) was to see if their coworkers were still in the factory by an unknown, vague note. Now, they're tied up in a conflict between the toys and they're helping out Poppy(semi-forcefully as there weren't many options) by killing the Prototype and freeing the..."still alive" human Orphans(X to Doubt) kept asleep by the Prototype.

Their name is still unofficial, where they worked in the factory is still not confirmed though hinted to be one with the lab coats, and even Dr. Sawyer is questioning why they even returned.

I do like how the Doctor questions the player's morals and reasons for coming back since these questions have been lingering in some people's heads as well. It's also been explicitly clear that there's something different about the capabilities of this unknown employee as the Doctor states that he was trying to figure out what made the player so different.

Speaking of the Doctor, Harley Sawyer.

I liked him.

He was a really cool villain with interesting dialogue and his views on the Player as he constantly tests them. His voice, the TVs, his behavior, it all made him terrifying and strangely attractive to certain people in the fanbase.

However, I do agree that there could've been a little more done with the Doctor and the concept they went with. The TVs could function like cameras alerting Yarnaby if we get spotted such as the trailer of Yarnaby implied, we can have optional dialogue from Harley depending on our actions throughout the game(or just more of it), or we could have one main controlled TV robot that Harley uses to defend the system holding his consciousness.

I also do agree that his death was a little sudden and underwhelming compared to the chase leading up to it. You just press a button after running a bit and he screams. Then no more.

But overall, a nice addition.

Yarnaby:

I like Yarnaby as well, it was a shame he died halfway through the game as I would've liked to see Yarnaby try to defend Harley when we tried to shut him down rather than him getting caught/stuck/bit on some chains and randomly combusting into fire...I think we may need some more visual clarity on how that happened unless I wasn't looking closely enough.

But the way he moved and functioned always put me on edge and it fit well to what he was described in the ARG.

Is it bad that I wished the Doctor killed Yarnaby instead to mirror the Prototype killing Catnap?

Pianosaurus:

Dude got cheated so hard.

Like actually, it's kind of funny.

I can see why people were disappointed when his one shot in the trailer was literally his whole screen time before Doey killed him a second later. I think most, myself included, would've preferred if Pianosaurus, someone they've hyped up to be an antagonist for Chapter 4, had an area where we have to survive from him and when he backs us up in a corner, then Doey would've saved us from death. Similar to Miss Delight except Doey is the executioner instead of the player.

Doey:

He was decent.

I have to admit, I don't often get attached to characters such as allies like Dogday, Kissy, Poppy(absolutely not), and Doey is no exception. In other words, I didn't care much when he died.

His story was objectively tragic and he was overall a cool character with cool concepts. The fact that he became hostile to the Player by snapping after the Save Haven was wiped out was also an interesting and yet another tragic twist where the only option now is to kill Doey.

Not surprised he died. I did notice that like Dogday, a lot of the fanbase wished to save Doey as well and some may have been angry about this turn out on him. My response to that would be...it's a horror game, killing characters you like would be the go-to move to ensure it is tragic, disturbing, and scary. It would also show that you can't hope for the best in anything because the game can kill anybody.

Advice: If you like a character in a game like this, just expect them to die...or make a fanfic of saving them as coping.

Baba Chops and the Nightmare Critters:

Clearly, they have a vendetta against the Player if they're this. Fucking. Hostile.

There are hardly any moments with them when they're not just jumping you. But I think a nice edition since you have to use the flare gun more. I had a neat idea where they climb on top of each other into a large mass like a hivemind to make a big monster made up of mini critters but that could still work with Chapter 5, we'll just have to see.

Kissy Missy:

I was kind of surprised she was alive but I do like how despite her survival, she was still badly injured and couldn't help much...not that she helped much in the previous chapters without injuries. But she did try to help the player proving her to be generally a good person trying to help us.

Then again, that also relates to how good of a person the Player is and/or something we don’t know about her.

I'm expecting her to die in Chapter 5.

But first, I was to see a fight between an injured Huggy and an injured Kissy.

Poppy:

So....she wasn't that helpful. She pretty much told us what to do, we did it, then we get blamed for it by Doey because someone(Prototype) screwed over the explosives, he tried to kill us, and we killed him, Poppy then blames us for things we both did and didn't do, Prototype call, and she runs off.

I think in one of the VHS tapes(there are two about Poppy), we see a conversation between her and Ollie which shows us directly that she isn't exactly a cunning, evil betrayer but more of a scared experiment like the rest of the orphans with a very... tunnel-visioned plan and mindset. Or very, very desperate to blow stuff up.

She does run off and abandons the player and Kissy because the case must've sucked that badly which is weird because I would rather prefer being asleep in the case than being anywhere outside of it where toys could rip me to shreds. But hey, it's her opinion I suppose.

I am surprised not a single character had not mentioned or tried to drop-kick her. Killing her shouldn't be that hard...right?

Right...I'm guessing the reason why is because she doesn't stick around enough near the player to even encounter any of the big villains.

Ollie/Prototype:

Let's face it. We all knew it. The only person who was surprised was Poppy herself.

I actually enjoyed the reveal though, I think it was intense but very funny on how it was done.

Poppy blames us and then Ollie calls, the first thing he does is do the Playtime Equivalent of doxxing our location. Dude might as well just said our address over a COD lobby.

Then he pretty much makes fun of Poppy by telling her she needs to stop pretending to be stronger than she actually is(which is true).

Then he makes fun of the player by saying, "I got the bombs, thanks for getting them for me BTW!" as we hear beeping sounds below us.

Does a whole speech before Poppy bolts, abandoning us and he proceeds to make fun of that.

Then the floor explodes and we're in the Labs now.

Either the Prototype is a (10/10) funny character or maybe my humor is broken.

Long Story Short:

It's an improvement in many ways from previous chapters but I, like many others, think there could've been just a couple of additions to make it Peak but there were some good moments. Some good lore drops and information that may or may not have screwed over a couple of Au's(depending on who's in it) but it could be worked around.

They dived way deeper into how terrible Playtime Co. in the inside from both the perspectives of the workers as well as the toys. I love that.

I will still say that Chapter 3 is my favorite even with all of this considered(Because I love Catnap) but I do hope that they truly take their complete time on Chapter 5 to make it the best possible.

Anyhow, I can't wait for Chapter 5 to bring back Catnap(yes, I AM coping), totally bring him back, if Huggy could survive a fifty-story fall, Catnap could either be shocked back alive and/or survive a stab to the head. These toys were able to tank bullets in tapes, they could survive a bit of brain damage(or piercing) and burns.

Man...the Player might not be an "angel”.

[lady-of-endless]

i was thinking of maybe kid, katakuri and law for the one bed trope! but if you only accept 2 i'll go with kid and katakuri (we don't have enough hcs of this beautiful man)! thank you so much again for your time <3 hope you have an amazing day!

Only one bed trope/ Being forced to share a bed for the first time (Trafalgar D Water Law, Eustass Kid, Charlotte Katakuri)

Author's Note: YES FOR KATAKURI. Thank you so much for requesting him. Let there be only one bed.

Trafalgar D Water Law

- "Why are you looking at me like that?"

The most unaffected looking of all. Only seeming unfazed. He's slightly bothered by the inconvenience. To be clear, not because of you, but more because he's used to sleeping alone at night. There were times in which you napped next to him as he studied and he thinks it should probably be the same thing.

- Law doesn't want to make a big deal out of it but it's something new to him as well. You'll understand this because he's somehow a bit hesitant in his actions and words. He'll pay close attention to your reactions and try to act in tune with you like he's testing the waters without wanting you to notice a change in his attitude.

- He wishes for silence as you lay down to go to sleep but realizes that it feels so damn odd. So please try to say something. You two will conversate for a while, staring at the ceiling, some space between your bodies. Law starts to relax bit by bit and you can hear it in his voice that's becoming more softer.

- He falls asleep the last because of his many thoughts and plans for the next day. However, when he glances over you and notices how peaceful you look, his thoughts go silent. He also feels relieved to have you next to him resting safely for some reason he doesn't want to admit.

- Because you fall asleep before him, Law allows himself to whisper a barely audible goodnight to you.

- As motionless as he is when sleeping, in the morning you'll probably wake up with his head on your shoulder and an arm over your torso. You won't get a reaction from him when he wakes up like that, but be convinced that deep down he starts thinking about how he really had a good sleep next to you.

Eustass Kid

- "Sucks for you to sleep on the floor tonight."

Kid will blurt out casually, at the sight of the single bed in the room. He bets that you think he's joking when in reality he's serious. But it turns out that you're serious too, not laughing or whatever.

- Once he sees you being serious, not having it, and frowning at him, his expression drops as he realizes that you'll probably have to share the bed. Oh shit. Kid freezes for a good minute then he snaps out of it and tries to act cool and unfazed but you can notice a blush on his face. Don't you dare point it out.

- As you both go to bed, he looks so grumpy and annoyed although, he makes sure you have enough space to be comfy and throws the only blanket totally over your body.

- He falls asleep the first. But if not, when Kid thinks you're asleep, he takes a look at your figure next to him and sighs at his impulses. He gives in and scoops closer and wraps his arm around you, doing all of this as gently as he can so it won't wake you up. If you decide to remain silent, that's perfect. If not, he'll quickly argue that you looked cold and shout to stop smirking like an idiot at him.

- This man snores, sorry about that. But give him a gentle push or a tug and the snoring somehow stops. Also, he forgets to wish you goodnight, he just falls asleep so abruptly. You two might talk before sleep and suddenly when you ask him something, he won't respond anymore, not because he doesn't want to but because he already fell asleep.

- In the morning, you'll have to wake him up because he also sleeps very deeply. It's going to be a challenge since he's all over you.

Charlotte Katakuri

- "You will take the bed."

It's the only thing he says at first, calmly, not even considering his comfort for a second or the possibility of you wanting to share a bed with him.

- You'll have to convince him to sleep together in the bed for his good as well and that will take a while. Good luck. However, when he gives in and realizes that he will sleep next to you, something in him warms up.

- Even after that talk, he is still tempted to ask if you're alright with sharing a bed but he stays silent. Mainly because he wants to keep his composure and secondly because he starts to warm up to the idea.

- No blanket? No problem. If you look cold, he'll put his scarf over you and maybe his vest. His body temperature is naturally high. He won't embrace you because he wants to be respectful. (this brings me to the next hc)

- He tries so much to take as little space as he can on the bed but his large frame makes it so very uncomfortable. Doesn't say a word about it, not complaining. It makes you feel a little bad. However, in the morning, you somehow wake up on top of his body, and his arms wrapped around you keeping you there like you're the most precious thing in the world. And you are to him, he just didn't get to tell you that yet.

- He is the type to jolt a bit because of falling asleep too abruptly.

[doyoulikethis-videogame-song]

Ask Masterpost #7 (Admin Asks) -- 3/15/2025

Maybe I should change the posting date of these to Sunday so I stop procrastinating them on Saturdays, LOL.

Anyways, this is the first edition of non-blog focused asks (fun questions, personal questions, etc), so I'm not going to write up a summary since none of this is essential information for submissions or anything like that :).

Since I'm writing it up so late in the day I'm going to post it with my answers, but Mod Rae may update it with their answers so feel free to check back! In the future hopefully I'll be able to write it up in enough time to give them a chance :').

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@foulwinter asked: Ever heard of either of Sonic CD's soundtracks? I grew up with the US soundtrack but I love both of them. I think the war between which soundtrack is silly when you look at it from the perspective of having MORE Sonic CD music

Admin: I have never been a big sonic fan, so I have no horse in this race :'). But I do agree that it's nice to have more soundtrack per soundtrack!

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@pearlhoardingdragon asked: If you had to stick with one family of consoles for the rest of your life, would it be playstation, nintendo, or xbox?

Admin: PC 4 Lyfe (I never had enough money for consoles growing up </3). I'd probably pick Nintendo though, since I like the switch and DS.

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Thoughts on Yoko Shimomura?

Admin: LOVE HER!!! I haven't played a lot of the games she has worked on but from what I've heard from her she is 🔥🔥🔥🔥

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who's your favourite villain in ffxiv?

Admin: The only Final Fantasy villain I know is Sephiroth... and I think he's cute and silly 💔

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stance on Nerdcore video game songs? (Miracle of Sound, Aviators, JT Music, etc) both as submissions and just in general.

Admin: I don't think I have a strong/opinion-worthy stance on any genre of music, because all music that I like regardless of genre is good music. Simple as.

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Would you say you've gotten fulfillment out of starting this project? I remember you have it posted somewhere that you started this blog because you wanted to listen to new music, so what's it been like? Any favorites that stand out?

Admin: Yes!! This has been really fun and ESPECIALLY so since I finally figured out some things to help me maintain it without messing with my insane schedule within the last few months. I definitely need to make a proper list of my favorites but I think my most favorite song that I discovered 100% from submissions alone is #212, Tenebre Rosso Sangue from ULTRAKILL. (this wasn't an anon ask, but I forgot to write the blog name before deleting the ask to clear it from my inbox... </3)

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what is your favourite kind of bread, actually?

Admin: Any flatbread!!!!!! Pita bread, naan, roti, and especially tortillas <-- put it in my mouth

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out of every song posted, do you have a least favourite? if so, what?

Admin: The Ao Oni chase theme (#125) because it scared me.

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thank you for all your hard work hosting this blog. question: has it been fun to discover so many songs through the blog? the level of variety is really cool. out of curiosity, how much of the music would you say you have personally already known before they were submitted?

Admin: I'd say I've probably only heard 5-10% of the songs submitted here before :'). But that just means that this blog is highly effective at helping me find new music!

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my favourite kind of results are what i like to call the penis results. it usually happens when "like it/first time hearing it" gets the lead while "like/sounds familiar" and "don't feel strongly" take like 10-12% each. are there any specific poll results that you've found particularly interesting for any reason

Admin: 1. I'm calling that phenomena penis results now and 2. #689, which has the highest 'Like and Familiar' result of any song at 49.60%. The average % for this category is 19.19%.

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Have you ever gotten a submission on this blog that you’re disappointed more people don’t know?

Admin: EVERY NIER SONG EVER!!!!!!!! GO PLAY NIER REPLICANT RIGHT NOW IT IS 60% OFF UNTIL MARCH 20TH.

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Do you have a series you expected to get a lot of requests for, but haven't?

Admin: There's surprisingly few Persona requests, which I expected to be more popular. There's also one song in particular (not from persona) that I'm surprised I haven't seen yet (not naming it, I don't want to invite inorganic submissions!)

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what is your favorite piece of music outside videogames?

Admin: This is hard because my favorites are pretty much always changing (other than the one song I listen to obsessively multiple times a day, of course) and I can never pick just one anyways... I think I'd have to go with (as of writing this) 'With All Its Complexities' by Kyoumeni from her album 'And Then I Woke Up.'

[ask-codeearasure]

Oh... a part of me fuckin figured this kid was a Republican, or at least a Republican mouthpiece, but I wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt at first. But now, get ready for that kid to use Cross being Trans Coded to be one of their reasons for accusing Jakei of being a pedophile next, since that is where red party mouthbreathers always seem to go next with anything transgender related. I'm calling it right now.

If you haven't read my essay of why Trans Coded characters are important, go do so, it comes into play here and why Republicans are constantly attacking them and why characters that aren't Cishet, Male, and White are always called "Political". If not directly, then indirectly under the guise it's going to "groom children" and "confuse them", amongst other false talking points used to demonize the LGBTQIA+ community.

I've always said this, but I'll say it here and now, Republicans LOVE to minimize their accusations and attacks as being "a different opinion" when deep down, they know it's anything BUT.

If you look at the way Republicans are complaining about their families going no-contact with them and uninviting them from holidays, family gatherings, or even just complete exclusion, they always say "It's just a different opinion! They are cutting me off for a different opinion!!!" When they know that's not exactly the case, but they are not going to say what the actual reason is. They use the First Amendment as a weak defense for what they say as "I have the Freedom of Speech!" but don't acknowledge that one's Freedom of Speech DOES NOT MEAN there's no such thing as "Freedom from Consequences".

Let's say it how it is. These people know it's about morals, giving a shit about the people around them (which extends into the state of society as a whole), and ethics.

Republicans refuse to admit they completely lack morals and that lack of morality makes them dangerous. You could stretch it and say they don't have a conscience either, but really, it's clear the problem these people have is outright stupidity, not a complete lack of a little voice in their head telling them the shit they subscribe to perhaps isn't a good idea.

This kid tried to say "Oh, Jakei didn't understand what I meant!" Then proceeded to not clarify what they supposedly meant and then turned around and accused everyone of having Main Character Syndrome.

What else could they have possibly meant when they outright said they believed that Cross being confirmed to be Trans Coded was to get attention from the Trans Community?

If that isn't what you meant...? Then what the fuck else could you have meant?

How else are we supposed to take it???

But that's just it, isn't it?

That WAS what they meant. That WAS how it was supposed to be taken, they just don't like that it makes them look like a complete and total piece of shit. It's almost like actions speak louder than words here.

Republicans hate being seen as a bad person, so they will gaslight you and refuse to ever admit they want to hurt others and get kicks out of it.

And look at what the kid does. They didn't like the fact that everyone fucking tore them a new one, proceeded to try to gaslight everyone by saying that Jakei didn't understand what they meant to try to make her look like the "confused" bad guy, and then accused everyone else of having Main Character Syndrome. This is also a form of projection, putting themself on a pedestal of "everyone got mad, so they must be wrong. Therefore I refuse to change my opinion to keep making the "bad guys" mad!" They are not looking at the reactions of everyone around them as a lens of "perhaps I was wrong, I should change my opinion and improve as a person". They're not actually questioning what's wrong. They just see everyone upset and assume they've got all the power here, because in order to avoid genuinely considering what they've done wrong, everyone else must be wrong. This is a very common mental gymnastic used to avoid change.

This pattern of behavior and responses is what we call DARVO, and it is prevalent in the political and psychological fields. It stands for Deny, Attack, Reverse, Victim, and Offender.

Republicans LOVE using DARVO in their debates, it's their go-to when it comes to attacking left-wing content creators, anyone on the left, or populations of people they just don't like (and always out of intentional ignorance).

They will always use it to ensure that they gain control of the conversation and make themselves look good, mainly to themselves. It's why they make nonsensical whataboutisms and accuse others of extreme crimes despite not having any evidence to back it up.

It's a way to get the actual victims to shut the fuck up so they can continue running their mouth comfortably. With no competition to their views, they can avoid questioning their beliefs and quality of character based off those beliefs.

And what do we have here?

A person who uses Republican Talking Points to demonize transgenderism.

And then now used Cross being Trans Coded as a way to attack Jakei again under the guise her advocating for transgender people has a harmful and/or self-serving ulterior motive.

And then is using DARVO to try to gaslight everyone they can to make themself look like the actual victim, because the poor baby can't handle the justified backlash to their behavior.

By these terms of beliefs and behavior, they are a Republican (perhaps not legitimately but by current definition) who is predictable and will always be predictable because once you know how to recognize and analyze Republican Propaganda, you can expect their every move and what they are always aiming for.

Sorry to make another post on this. This was meant to be a fandom blog, not a politics blog.

-- Ouija

[kiwi-cult]

PARSELSCRIPT!!

Hi. This is mostly for the people from Discord but tadah! I'm finally making that Tumblr post I've been talking about for months.

(Warning this will probably be very chaotic)

To anyone new who sees this: me and some friends made an alphabet for Parseltongue from Harry Potter, aka Parselscript. I'll take you on a little journey to explain my process and give you some tips, should you want to start writing it.

Disclaimer: I wanted to make this script usable for the writer I made it for so it's less of an actual language and more just some characters to represent the Latin (or ‘English’) letters. Like a cipher. It is not realistic. If I made this realistic I'd have to add all sorts of things to indicate body language and smell etc and also have to figure out what sounds Parseltongue actually has etcetera etcetera. No.

Alright.

It all started when we started talking about Parselscript in a Discord server and I asked my friend Ava to visualise the script because she seemed to have a clear vision of it, so I could use it to go from there.

That's how we got this.

I think we all wanted to go with something flowery for some reason, so we did.

After this I just messed around with brushes and shapes in Procreate for a while, tweaking things and trying to make it more writeable. I ended up with something like this (still a rough draft).

It may look a bit like random squiggles at first, and it kinda was at this point. As you can see there's also a lot of added dots and lines, which can be a bit hard to remember and I see you wondering what it looks like without them.

Well here it is.

I showed this to the people I brainstormed with in Discord and we decided to go with the more complicated version because it looks better lol.

This is one of the final versions.

It says: "Hello, my name is Kiwi Cult. I made this script after reading a fanfic called Terrible, But Great written by Isalise the loml on Archive Of Our Own."

Now, to talk about some of the (boring) logistics.

It is read from left to right, top to bottom.

Every separate combination of squiggles you see above is a separate word. Every word is made up of a starting character, one or more letter characters and an ending character.

The very first character you see in the top left corner, with the three petal looking thingies, is a silent starting character that indicates the start of a sentence. Not word: sentence. The end of the character, that little circle thingy, is a comma. So, the first combination says: "Hello,".

Then, the second combination starts with a kind of hook going down and right. This is also a silent character and more meant as an interpunction, that's why you don't pronounce it. It's kind of just a way to start the word when there isn't anything special about it (aka it's not the start of a sentence, a name, an exclamation or a question. But every character is special in its own right🥲). The same kind of hook can be found at the bottom of the combination, except going up. It has the same use, basically just a way to end the word when there isn't anything special about it. Now, you might ask: why does it go right and not left?

We talked about this a while, because I wanted the direction to have some kind of meaning. We wondered about gender, tone, blah blah all kinds of complicated things but in the end I just wanted this script to be writable so I chose to have proficient writers in Parseltongue make their hooks go left and beginners have their hooks go right.

Now, you might notice that I end my words with a hook going right. That is because I don't see myself as a pro in writing in Parselscript okay? It's hard!😭💀

Now, other than the character indicating the start of a sentence, the circle, and the simple hook, there are a few other characters to start or end a combination (don't worry I'll show them all to you at the end, you won't have to use your imagination for long).

We have a character to indicate a name. Now, the rule is: name indicator over start of sentence indicator. So, if you start a sentence with a name, you'll use the symbol to indicate a name, NOT BOTH. (That's not even possible but I don't even want to see you try and butcher my child).

There is a character to indicate a sentence that would usually be followed by an exclamation mark (!), but at the start of the sentence. Then you’d end the exclamated sentence with a period.

The same goes for a question mark (?): put it at the start of a question, not the end. Again, it wouldn't even be possible to use it at the end of a combination but I DON'T EVEN WANNA SEE YOU TRY.

Finally we have a period (.), which looks a bit like a flower with four petals. You do use this one at the end of a word, and it is always followed by a start of sentence indicator or a name indicator. I know people are rejecting capitals these days in their typing but I don't wanna see it. If you start a word after a period with a hook I will find you.

If a sentence starts with a name that is also a question or exclamation you’d use the question/exclamation mark above the name indicator, otherwise it would take away a vital part of the sentence while a name can still be read even if it doesn’t have its indicator.

So, to put it all next to each other, the symbols we have are: -start of sentence indicator -name indicator -exclamation mark (!) -question mark (?) -period (.) -hook (direction depends on efficiency) -comma (,) (direction depends on efficiency)

I didn't make adjusted characters to indicate a capital letter like we do in the Latin alphabet, meaning that the only things you can kind of 'capitalise' are the start of a sentence and the start of a name.

It is also slightly phonetic. Emphasis on slightly. I made separate characters for almost all letters in the Latin alphabet, so you can just write your word normally with Parselscript characters. The only difference is that I made only one character for the 'f/v' sounds and that there is no 'c' character. If a word has a 'c' in it, you'll have to use the character for a 'k' or an 's'. Also a ‘q’ can be made with ‘k’ and ‘w’ etc.

A few examples: -character=karakter -parselscript=parselskript -crazy=krazy -science=siense

-quiz=kwuiz

I know it looks a bit confusing, but I trust you guys' ability to read context clues and figure out what someone means when you try to decipher Parselscript.

Now, for a word like 'phonetic' or 'decipher' I don't really care whether you use the separate characters for 'p' and 'h' or just the one for the 'f/v' sound. You do you.

I also don’t use any double letters because they basically sound the same and it looks ugly but if you want to use double symbols feel free.

I also made some numbers that do not look like they fit with the rest of the script but I promise you that's just because you're not used to it yet. Our own numbers don't belong with our alphabet either because we nicked them from the Arabs (I think, don't quote me on this) but we don’t notice that either.

Tadah. (Yes I know it’s out of order I told you this was gonna be chaotic af)

Other than that, feel free to ask me questions if I've forgotten anything or if you're wondering about anything. I can't guarantee that I have a good answer because I might not even have thought about it myself, but I can always try to come up with something. I am one person, I'm afraid I haven't been able to take everything about a script into consideration.

Now, without further ado; here is the key.

No, your eyes didn't deceive you: there are two versions. The first has a bit more loose squiggles than the second one. I realised that when I was writing physically, the second version was much nicer to write, so it is kind of like Simplified Parselscript. I haven't decided yet if I'm gonna put some lore behind it or not yet. But I included the og one if you're a tryhard and wanna take it on.

Now, if you're gonna start writing it yourself, here is the stroke order.

I tried to make it as clear as possible but please ask me if you're confused on anything.

Red is the starting point of the whole symbol, the arrows indicate the direction to go in, x marks the start of the small extra's.

Now, I'd also recommend writing on some type of paper with vertical lines like this if you're gonna do it physically.

You can just turn a paper with normal, horizontal lines a quarter to get vertical lines. Also, do NOT write in between the lines. They are meant to help you keep the start and ending on the same line so you don't start going into crazy directions while writing. So, start your sentence symbol or hook or whatever in the middle of the line and try to keep coming back to that vertical line after every letter. As you gain more proficiency you'll probably go straight into the next letter without going back to the line all the time but I think this is a good starting point.

I also recommend writing with a fountain pen or something else that flows well because it’s easier to write that way.

Here is another rough draft I made on physical paper to get a feel for it. As you can see this draft had a lot more different starting characters and ending characters so just ignore that. Hope this motivates you a bit or smth.

Lmk if you want me to post a video of me writing in this Parselscript.

Also please let me know if you know of someone else who's also made a Parselscript because I tried to look for it on Tumblr and Twitter etc but I couldn't find anything.

I also feel like there’s a big mistake I made that I realised the last time I worked on this script but I’ve forgotten it now so if you find out please comment or dm or anything💀

Also feel free to use in your own fic, tho a little tiny shoutout in the a/n would be nice :) I’m @/kiwi_cult on Ao3, @/slvtr_ on Wattpad, @/kiwi cult on ff.net, @/slvtr.1 on TikTok and @/.slvtr on Discord.

Credits:

@natis-balamnimaja @asterialvia and @/zee (who unfortunately left the server and I don't know the Tumblr @ of) for brainstorming with me and @isalisewrites for inspiring us and making the server we discussed this in.

Okay bye :) tell me if I forgot anything.

🥝

[chxrrysangel]

Wanna Play a Game ?

Trick | roleplay

Pairing | Dabi x fem!reader

Warnings | i guess dubcon?? but also like not really, knife play, a singular mention of blood/injury, fingering, choking, oral ( m + f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), alluded to aftercare, mask kink lowkey, honorifics, degradation, dabi has a pierced dick bc I said so

A/n | not proofread, we die like men (i'll do it later, i promise)

Wordcount | 3,205 words

The night was dark and quiet, almost too quiet. The whirring of the television and your intermittent gasps of fright was music to his ears. Hellraiser had never been a favorite franchise, but with everyone raving about the reboot you decided to give it a shot. If you were being honest, Odessa A’zion was the sole reason for giving it a chance. The music took a turn, suspense making your heart race with anticipation. 

Ring Ring 

A yelp left your lips before even registering the sound of the phone. It was unlike anyone to call this late, small town and all. Everything closed at like 8pm, as if everyone old or young had an early bedtime. It was almost as comical as it was annoying. Shaking hands unclipped the device from its receiver, listening for the connection to stabilize. 

“Hello?” 

“Hi. Who is this?” 

You scoffed. “I think you have the wrong number.” 

There was a small beat of silence before the receiver picked up sound. 

“Do I?” Who is this guy? 

“Yes you do. I’m hanging up, have a nice night.” You ended the call, feeling a sense of unplaced fear. With a small town like this, everyone still used the yellow pages. The possibility of dialing the wrong number was pretty low. Continuing the movie, your mind wandered to oggling Odessa and Drew’s characters, the stranger on the phone long forgotten. 

Ring Ring 

Not even bothering to press pause, you picked up the house phone with clear exasperation. 

“Yes, can I help you?” 

“I’m sorry.” It was the same strange voice. 

“You called me again to apologize?” Some time between your question and the awaited response, a character on the screen screeched in pure terror, catching you off guard. 

“Yes I did. Are you watching a scary movie?”

“...yes I am. And I’d like to get back to it.” 

“Do you like scary movies?” 

“Some of them.” You figured that by keeping your answer short, he would eventually get bored and hang up. 

“Which ones?”

“Jennifer’s Body. Scream. Chucky. Ones like that.”

“You have good taste, sweetheart.” 

“Thank you, I’m hanging up now if you don’t mind.” 

“I do mind, actually.” 

“Well, I’m sorry but that’s too b–”. Your sentence was interrupted by a loud banging on the front door. Tentatively, you tiptoed towards the peephole and looked through to see nothing. 

What the fuck? 

You turned around to a dark kitchen, making you shriek. The television flickered back and forth on its own, fear and bile rising up your throat. The stranger on the other line seemed irrelevant at this point, too caught up in the strange sight before you. To make matters worse, the pounding on the front door returned, shaking you to your core. 

“Who is it?” There was no response, which only scared you more. With shaking hands, you opened the door and peered outside. The porch was empty, just as you had expected. You tried to calm your heart, deciding to worry about all of this another time. Every instinct you had escaped you, the naivete of a small town making you less cautious than you probably should be. You shook your head, closing the door to return to your movie.

Except the door got caught on something. 

A foot to be exact. 

Your eyes bulged out at the sight of the mystery black boot, fearing who could possibly be attached to it.. Your entire body shook with pure terror, a tall stranger looming over you in a mask. His head tilted in animalistic curiosity, unmoving but frightening all the same. 

“Did no one ever tell you the first rule of scary movies, sweetheart? Don’t open the door for strangers.” He chuckled darkly, stepping over the threshold as you stupidly stepped backwards. Despite everything in your body telling you to run, it was like you were frozen in place. The large man clicked his tongue with disapproval, seemingly at your lack of instincts. A gloved hand came up to your face, grabbing onto your jaw to hold you in place. You could feel his warm breath on your cold skin with his increased proximity, fanning your ear while he whispered. 

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing home alone, hm?” A tear fell down your cheek, too frozen with fear to respond or do anything else. He backed up a few spaces, watching you stand helplessly like a gazelle caught in the lion’s den.

“Not gonna run from me? But that’s no fun.” He sounded sickeningly disappointed, which only worsened your anxiety of what was to come. It was at this moment you noticed something shining in his other hand, your eyes widening as you identified the foreign object. He seemed to put two and two together, bringing the blade up to your face. 

“Oh sweetheart, don’t worry ‘m not gonna kill ya, not yet at least.” You’d almost think he was sincere if the circumstances were different. Even behind a mask, his smile was evident. 

As if some higher power guided you to sanity, you suddenly developed a sliver of bravery. So you ran, as fast as your feet could carry you without wasting a single moment to look back. Haphazardly you ran into your bedroom and slammed the door, searching frantically for a hiding spot. The closet seemed like your best option, having no time to think of something better. You waited there, breathing as quietly as you could muster given the adrenaline coursing through your veins. You’ve never felt fear quite like this moment, which could very easily be your last. For a few minutes the house was virtually silent, but you couldn’t be stupid enough to be lured out under false pretenses. It was never that easy. Suddenly your bedroom door slammed open, the stranger walking into your safe space. His large boots made impressions into the carpet with each step, a faint eerie whistle being heard under his mask. 

“Honey, I know you’re in here. Can’t hide from someone like me, baby.” A light shined in your face, blinding you as the closet doors opened. 

“There you are.” How someone whose eyes can’t be met could be so terrifying was incredible. 

You begged  for your life, feeling so unlike yourself. It was an out-of-body experience, kissing the boots of a stranger and begging him not to kill you. The coldness of his blade pushed up your chin, forcing your eyes towards where you assumed his own sat.

“I told you, my sweet, I have much better plans in mind.” He stood much straighter now, towering over your kneeling figure. The cloak he wore earlier was gone, although he kept the mask for obvious reasons. 

“Fuck, you’re so pretty like this.” Your eyes flickered down his figure instinctually, catching on the growing bulge  beneath his black jeans. He was enjoying this, although not quite in the matter you thought. You hated yourself for the wet feeling growing between your thighs as you stared. He chuckled, entertained by this moment. 

“I can see you staring.” 

The trance you were in broke, heat breaking out across your cheeks as you averted your gaze. 

“Don’t get all shy on me now, honey. I’ve caught you. And I think there’s a solution we both could enjoy.” 

The tall stranger didn’t wait for an answer, dropping his knife to begin unbuckling his pants. In one swift movement, his jeans and boxers pooled around his ankles. Purple scarring covered his lower legs, but your eyes could hardly focus on anything other than his dick hanging in front of your face. His tip leaked, red and swollen like it hurt. Metal jewelry glittered in the low light of the room, a jacob’s ladder and prince albert catching your eye. It was embarrassing how interested you were considering the circumstances. 

“Now be a good girl and suck.” 

Without much hesitation, your outstretched tongue gathers the dripping pearls of precum as you relax your jaw to accommodate him. He was large, much larger than most people you’ve had. The man groaned as his tip hit the back of your throat, a ring-clad coming to place itself on your cheek. On occasion, he thrusted into your mouth, chuckling when you gagged. Tears began to well in your eyes, clouding your vision a bit. Despite his air of dominance, whimpers could be heard beneath the mask, signaling how much he enjoyed this. 

“So good, that’s it. F-fuck,” he stuttered. Using your prior knowledge, you began to roll his balls between your fingertips as you sucked him off. His thrusts began to lose rhythm, signaling that he was very close. 

“Shit, shit. I’m gonna fucking cum. Stop.” He pulled you off, not allowing you to refuse and push him over the edge.

“Not so fast, pretty girl. Bed, now.” 

Not arguing despite instinct saying otherwise, you sat down on the bed and awaited instruction. He didn’t say much, grabbing your arm and turning you to lay on your stomach. A coldness danced its way up your back and down your thighs, making you shiver. The heat from his body radiated off him like a furnace, which only made each anticipatory moment pass by even slower. Eager hands pulled down your shorts, being thrown somewhere behind his shoulder. 

“Spread those legs for me sweetheart.” You did as told, hearing a groan in response. Even through the cotton fabric, your pussy shined with arousal, making him more turned on than he thought was possible. Not wasting a single moment, he ran his fingers along your slit and pressed against your clit. He cursed under his breath as you leaned into his touch, desperate for any pleasure he was willing to offer. 

“Oh that’s cute.” 

He slipped one finger in, meeting little resistance as your cunt sucked him in. It was a sight to behold, making him wish he brought a camera. You mewled below him, ass pushing against his hand as you chased your own pleasure. He chuckled, enjoying how obviously needy you were and the lack of shame you possessed in hiding it. But just as you felt an orgasm approaching, he took his hand away. 

“Not yet..” You groaned in frustration, but stayed quiet otherwise. 

Dabi spread your legs wide, enough to accommodate his shoulders as he lay beneath you and brought your core to his face. The ball of his apparent tongue piercing rolled along your clit, making you cry out of pleasure. 

“F-fuck,” you managed to stutter out. His tongue was gifted, sucking on your clit with just the right amount of pressure to drive someone insane. He wasn’t afraid to be messy, loudly slurping and sucking to the point where it was almost nasty. Dabi pulled your body closer to his mouth, impossibly closer, like he was trying to absorb you. Your hips ground against his face, chasing your slowly creeping orgasm.

“More, need more.” Because you begged so nicely, Dabi obliged your request by curling two fingers into your hole. His thick digits pressed against your g-spot, making your toes curl as you felt your stomach tighten as your orgasm approached. You could only blabber incoherently, speaking words that not even you could bother to understand. All you knew is that you were cumming, quickly. You collapsed on the bed, legs jelly and head fuzzy as you came down. 

Dabi couldn’t wait for you to come to, deciding to take matters into his own hands.  

He manhandled your frame, pushing your knees into your chest as he pressed his weight against the back of your thighs. The tip of his dick prodded at your entrance, gathering the slick of your cum. Majority of his face remained covered by the mask, but his wicked grin shone brightly in the dimly lit bedroom

There was a level of shame that lodged itself in your chest, embarrassed by how turned on you felt in that moment. 

“You’re even prettier in this position.” His teeth grazed the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. 

You could practically feel his cock in your throat as he stretched you inch by inch, agonizingly slow as he watched your features. He could tell you were overwhelmed, which only made him harder. 

“Fucking hell,” Dabi whispered under his breath. Killing you would be such a shame now.

His thrusts were slow but methodical, ensuring you could feel every single piercing and vein. His warm breath fanned your face, engulfing you in his scent as he held you close. He smelled like smoke, undercut by the scent of bergamot and the faintest hint of vanilla and mint. It was intoxicating. 

“I can feel you squeezing me. Wanna cum already?,” he teased. His tone was wickedly condescending, prompting you to try and hide your face in the sheets. 

His strong hand gripped your chin, forcing eye contact. He clicked his tongue in disapproval. 

“You can’t hide from me, princess. Be a good girl.”

His calloused fingertips rubbed circles against your clit, pushing you further towards the edge. It was almost like he needed you to cum, more than he did. He set a vicious pace, knocking the air from your lungs with every push into the mattress. He pushed your legs further, creating a new angle as your body curled into itself. It hurt so good. Dabi never shied away from being vocal, cursing under his breath as he whined about how good you felt. 

He leans down, pulling you into a kiss. It’s neither soft nor caring, purely animalistic as he bullies his tongue into your mouth. The hunger he felt translated across, desperation evident in his forceful thrusts as you kissed back. You attempt to grab his hair, realizing that the mask still covered most of his face. Uncaring, he pulled it off completely, throwing it somewhere in the corner to be searched for later.  You taste each other on your tongues, the sin of it all turning you on more. He finally breaks the kiss, out of breath as he chases your lips again before rethinking it. 

“I–”, he dives back in for a chaste kiss, “– own –” , another kiss, “–you.” He remains close, practically sharing each breath between you as you stare firmly into his blue eyes. He pulls out, motioning you to turn on to your hands and knees. You did as told, submitting fully. The lack of sight as he shuffled behind you should have been anxiety-inducing, but it wasn’t. 

He dragged the dull edge of his knife down the indent of your spine, the most gentle of pressure enough to leave goosebumps in its wake. But as he reached the curve of your lower back, he pressed inward, pushing the blade into your skin until it broke. You felt a pinch that quickly flowed into a sharp ache as small droplets pooled on the surface of your back. 

He hushed your panic, pushing your head back down to lay against the mattress. The wet muscle of what you quickly realized was his tongue gathered the mess, licking up your back as you shivered. 

“I could do horrific things to you.” The darkness in his tone made it abundantly clear that he meant every word. It was exhilarating. 

“But first, I wanna play.” 

He leaned over as he guided himself inside, meeting no resistance as he bottomed out. His teeth nipped at your ear, a sensitive spot on your part. He pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek, uncharacteristically gentle.

From this angle he feels so much bigger, knocking the air from your lungs as you’re forced to accommodate his size. 

“Fu-” the curse dies in your throat as it turns into a choked gasp. 

He brings a hand back to your throat, applying pressure to both sides as he guides you to straighten up against him, making him hit new depths that have you hissing out. You mewl as he continues to thrust at an agonizingly slow pace, make sure you feel everything. 

“Look at you, whining like some slut.” He feels you clench at that, smiling into your skin. 

You can only moan in response as he slowly pulls back his hips, the ridges of his piercings gliding against your walls.

“You’re pitiful,” he groans into your ear, pressing his fingertips further against your throat, cutting off the circulation for only a moment. “Getting cockdrunk by some guy trying to kill you. You dirty fucking girl.” 

You can only continue your pathetic whines, reaching back to grasp onto him for stability. 

He slams back in, letting you drop forward. You hardly manage to keep yourself up, limbs jelly and unstable. Each time he snaps his hips forward, the sound of skin slapping ricochets off the bedroom walls around you. He grips your hip bone, forcing your hips to meet every thrust. 

“Tell me how good I’m making you feel, baby,” he huffs out, the building orgasm apparent in the slight shake of his voice. “Go ahead, say it.” His balls catch your clit, making your eyes cross as you struggle to stay present. 

“So good. Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you answer to best of your ability. Your answer was weak, eyes tearing up as you felt your gut clench. He was ruining you and he knew it.  He pulls you back upwards by the throat, planting a sloppy kiss on your lips as he moans into your mouth. 

“Say it again. Like you mean it.” 

“Fuck, right there, please. Feels so good — ha — I’m so close.” 

His fingers connect with your clit, working a mind-numbing pattern that has you nearly slipping out of unconsciousness as his vigorous thrusting returns. It’s harsh, the lines of pain and pleasure continuing to blur as you cum on his cock. Your body tenses in pleasure, everything fading into the background, before releasing as you collapse. 

His pace falters as his own orgasm takes over, spilling inside you as he cries out in ecstasy. You couldn’t even be bothered to consider the consequences of that at the moment, trying your best to catch your breath as you laid there together. 

Seconds turned to minutes as the reality of the situation passed over you. Dabi had hardly moved, staring at the ceiling as he reminisced on the last hour or so. You turned over to him, checking in on his current state. His blue eyes met yours with soft crinkling at the corners, heavy lidded eyes softening as he stared. 

“Come ‘ere,” he whispered. You obliged, leaning in close with the expectation of him wanting to tell you something. Instead he kissed you softly, a sharp contrast to the night’s previous events. He hummed in satisfaction against your lips, before pulling away reluctantly. 

“Was I too rough?”

 You shook your head assuringly, letting out a few tuts as though he was asking a stupid question. 

“Just asking.” He felt equally stupid asking, especially considering it was your idea, but he had to be sure. The bed dipped as he padded over to your shared bathroom, turning on the shower for the two of you. He leaned against the door frame, watching you curl into the sheets as you awaited the inevitable dragging to the bathroom for cleanup. 

[arcanewhoosh]

Hii, I'm new to Tumblr so I don't know if this is where you place requests, hopefully it's right! I have a request if you could write a Jinx x gn!reader who would never kill someone or harm, strictly against it hut tolerates Jinx's antics, until one night reader got extremely jelaous when a guy was flirting with Jinx (Jinx just nonchalantly kept avoiding the guy and giving him hints but he is not giving up) and the reader gets too jelaous to the point they harm the guy or something.. Idk! 😓

We're Good

I didn't know what direction you wanted this to go, but I got toxic vibes from this so I just decided to go full send in that direction. Advanced apologies.

This work will have an extended explicit scene that will be posted on AO3 (I wasn't 100% sure about your age my b, but if you confirm I'll post it here too.)

Masterlist here

1.8k words

Proofread? Y/N (Had a bit too much wine while writing this but I'll edit before posting on AO3)

Relevant Tags: Gender Neutral reader, toxic relationship, implied stalking, Hailey Bieber level commitment, violence, possessive reader, alcohol, aged up characters

You're a good person. You really do think you are. You really are. At least, that's what you tell yourself.

You're a good person.

Well…at least you think you are. And really, isn't that all that matters?

You've managed to keep your nose clean for most your life; no fights, no killing, no stealing. Odd jobs around The Lanes kept you afloat. Not like you had any other choice, you couldn't stomach gore, and every time you'd get an adrenaline rush from so much as a wound, you'd end up passing out.

You're level-headed, fairly well-read, and comfortable in your own skin.

So why the hell is your blood boiling over some weirdo trying to flirt with your girlfriend?

Jinx is beautiful, full stop. Anyone who says otherwise is an idiot. She's a genius in every sense of the word, a physical specimen—respectfully of course, she's literally super athletic—and quick with her tongue. If this wasn't Zaun, people would be tripping over themselves trying to win her over. But her reputation always made people rethink any approach they'd make towards her. Her father's reputation, made people steer clear entirely.

Anyone that had enough audacity to actually approach her, she'd—figuratively—shoot down immediately. At least when you two got together, you're not sure if she actually shot them prior to you asking her not to.

She knows what she wants, and she's not the type to sit and wait for the other person to make the first move. You should know, she cornered you five minutes after you two had first met, and she hasn't let go of you since.

The thought of being romantically linked with Jinx hadn't even crossed your mind when you two first met. You weren't blind, of course, but you also weren't stupid. All of the stories you had heard about her, all the people she's blown up for Silco, or just for her own amusement, none of it sat right with you. So, you avoided her like The Grey.

Well… You tried.

For some unknown reason, the Chem Barons suddenly took an interest in your services. Suddenly, you had a contract for the next few months, just for them, and all coincidentally putting Jinx up as your contact. Every job you had, she came with you. Super quick dead drop for Marcus' weekly bribes? You needed her to protect the money. Week long stake out at the shipping yard? Jinx had to go to keep you on your toes—whatever that meant. She'd show up to your house first thing in the morning, and followed you to your doorstep by night.

You tried dropping out of the job, but you were hit with threats ranging from you being blacklisted from all of your contacts, to being killed on the spot. So you bit your tongue and did your job, but made sure not to accept another contract from the barons.

Then one day, negotiations with a dealer went south, and they refused to give their payment for the last stash of shimmer you and Jinx had delivered. One second you were arguing with him, the next his blood and brain matter were on your face. You're not one hundred percent sure what exactly happened after, but you did pass out.

Then, you quit. You even told Jinx to kill you and get it over with. When she didn't, you stormed off, and ditched the rest of your jobs for the barons. It was only a week left, they'd get you, one way or another.

To say you were surprised when you weren't killed or blacklisted the following week was an understatement. But what was even more surprising? Jinx had stopped following you around.

You chalked it up to simple curiosity, when you decided to seek her out. You didn't dare admit to yourself that you had missed her constant presence, especially since she had been stuck to you like glue for months. You wanted to ask why no one had sent a hitman to off you, nothing else. Once you found out why, you'd disappear from her life forever, gleefully so.

She had covered for you, for a week, doing all the assigned jobs you had, alone. None of the barons knew better. She even apologized for shooting that dealer in front of you and getting blood spray all over your face.

You should've walked away then, but you didn't. In fact, you started willingly hanging around Jinx. Accompanying  her in her misadventures, or helping her with her inventions; and she helped you with whatever job you were doing.

You would never admit it to anyone, but it felt good to have someone nearly bend over backwards for you. Hell, she even toned down the killing people part, at least when you were around.

Less than six months after, you were hers, and she was yours.

She wanted you, and only you.

But there was something so disgustingly triggering about someone trying to make a move on her—looking at her, even. It was bringing out progressively uglier thoughts out of you. Thoughts you would never think about anyone else.

Jinx noticed this, of course. But she never tried to stop the train of thought. Hell, a part of you thinks—knows— that she enjoys seeing you worked up over her.

The music in The Last Drop is loud; uncomfortably so for someone sober. The bass blaring from the speakers thrums in your chest, and the constant stutter of the lights is making it hard to keep track of where Jinx is. Which is bad, because this rando doesn’t want to let up and keeps following her around. Even the vantage point the second floor isn’t helping.

To be fair, Jinx is ignoring the prick. And you trust Jinx. But the gnawing feeling in your insides every time you imagine some guy's hands on her is only building up your anger.

No one puts their grimy hands on your girl.

You decide that the best course of action is to just go down to the dance floor and take care of the problem yourself. What was that saying? If you want things done, do it yourself?

Pushing yourself off of the railing, you make your way through the all the bodies moving in time with the music. You grimace, the thought of having alcohol and cheap perfume clinging onto you by the time you get downstairs isn't all that appealing, but you had a girl to find. Which is starting to prove difficult, seeing as the strobe lights are throwing off people's hair colors. The only reprieve that you have is the fact that people still kept out of Jinx's way even at the busy club. If there was a spot at the club where the crowd was thinning out, she was probably there.

You're given space to breathe once you reach the bar. A lot of the club goers were on the dance floor. Credits to the DJ, you think to yourself, for getting people away from where you were, and for also, actually, being good at what they were doing. You give a cursory glance at the seats, your girlfriend is unfortunately not there, but you do catch sight of a familiar face.

"Sevika!" You shout over the din of the music. The older woman, busy tending to her glass of whiskey, barely spares you a glance as she looks up, huffing before gulping down her drink and pushing it towards the bartender. Her dismissive attitude doesn't deter you, however, as you make your way towards her.

"Have you seen Jinx?"

"Didn't know I had to babysit your girl." She says before taking her refilled drink and taking a swig from it.

"I don't have time to do this little dance, Sevika." Her eyebrow quirks at your terse response, a hint of mischief in her eyes. It was a look you knew well—she always had it right before she'd try to piss you off.

A shrug instead, turning back to her drink. "Last I saw, some dumbass was trying to talk her up."

Your jaw tightens at the thought, and this doesn't escape the other woman's notice as she smirks. "I always knew you weren't the sharing type." She says smugly, taking another swig.

You lean in closer, well into her personal space. "Where is she?"

She scoffs, a mechanical finger poking you in the shoulder slowly pushing you back. "Don't start shit you can't finish, kid." She nods towards the far end of the club. "Being followed by the dumbass that way."

You throw a scowl her way before walking the direction she pointed out, your previous irritation with her dissipating as soon as you catch sight of Jinx's hair.

For a moment, a wave of relief washes over you. But it leaves just as fast when you see the same man that was talking to her, leaning over her much too closely for your comfort.

Jinx's eyes flick towards you, a knowing, anticipating, look in them. Like she knew you'd come rushing down there for her.

You don't notice your own steps becoming hurried.

His hand brushes her arm. You see red.

The poor sod doesn't even have time to react before you clock him in the jaw, and he falls backwards. Jinx simply takes a step back. Unsurprised, when you grab her arm and pull her away. She doesn't even try to free herself from your grip.

There isn't a lot of privacy allowed in The Last Drop. In fact, there's only three places there where you could get a semblance of privacy. The supply room, but you didn't want to risk anyone walking in on you and Jinx. The second one was Silco's office, an even worse choice, for obvious reasons. Which left only one place for you to take Jinx to: the Chem Barons' meeting room.

The heavy doors of the meeting room slams as you shut them behind the both of you. Jinx, who had been quiet the entire way there, rips her arm away from you.

"What the hell's wrong with you?" Despite the furious look on her face, the anger doesn't reach her eyes. It never does. Not when she enjoys seeing you get so protective of her. Not when she spent months trying to win you over.

You don't bother with an answer, dragging her mouth to yours. Your lips mashing together, teeth bumping into each other. She grips the front of your shirt, holding you in place, only letting you pull away when she needs to breathe.

"Crazy." She whispers against your lips, eyes wide, her grin taunting.

"Takes one to know one." You answer back, breathless.

Her laugh is mirthful, genuine. Like she hit the lottery. Maybe she did, seeing how you act around her—how she acts around you.

You find that you don't mind the hidden accusation in her laugh. Because in your mind, you're a good person.

And really, isn’t that all that matters?

[crappy-writings]

Safe

Maria HillxReader // Angst/Fluff

*Image is not mine, credit to its creator

Summary: When the Project P.E.G.A.S.U.S. Facility is destroyed and you’re trapped under the rubble, Maria has to balance her job as Deputy Director and her relationship with you.

Trigger Warnings: FwB relationship (mentioned), Cursing, Guns, Death, Anxiety, Hospitals, Injuries, Amputation (mentioned), I think that’s it.

No pronouns for the reader were used, I think

Word Count: 6,970

A/N: Thanks to this Reddit thread for helping me figure out the timeline of The Avengers, as well as all the Marvel Wiki pages I visited, lol

Anyways, I'll forever be mad at Secret Invasion for doing my girl so dirty, so I'm jumping back to 2012 Avengers. Don't know if this sucks, so constructive criticism is always welcome.

Main Masterlist | MCU Masterlist | Recced Fics Masterlist

May 2nd, 02:47 hrs

“Sir, evacuation may be futile,” Maria says as she steps down the stairs, right on Fury’s heels. “We should tell them to go back to sleep?” Fury turns his head towards her while still descending the stairs. “If we can’t control the Tesseract’s energy, there may not be a minimum safe distance,” she argued.

“I need you to make sure the Phase Two prototypes are shipped out,” Fury orders as he reaches the entrance to where the Tesseract was being kept. “Sir, is that really a priority right now?” she asks incredulously. 

“Until such time as the world ends, we will act as though it intends to spin on,” he says, turning towards her, his tone leaving no room to argue, “Clear out the tech below. Every piece of Phase Two on a truck and gone.” 

“Yes, sir,” she says as she passes him by. She had her orders. “With me,” she orders the men who stood at either side of the door as she descends into the lower levels of the facility.

“Dispatch any available teams to the underground levels. Clear out any and all remaining Phase Two prototypes,” she speaks into her communicator. To say that Maria did not agree with focusing on the Phase Two prototypes would be an understatement. If anything, determining a minimum safety distance should be top priority, if there even is one. If not, destroying the Tesseract would be a better option. Regardless of what she thought though, she trusted Fury to know what he was doing. He is the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. for a reason.

“Copied, two additional teams have been dispatched,” the deep voice of an agent rang through her communicator.

The two dispatched teams were already there by the time she arrived at the underground lot, yours being one of them. She takes in a deep breath and subtly braces herself. She was hoping she would not be running into you for at least a few days. 

The two men who came down with her began helping both teams with the prototypes. You load up a few boxes before closing the trunk of the truck, the slam echoing throughout the underground garage. 

“Davidson, you’re driving this one,” you said as you threw a set of keys to one of the agents. Davidson catches the keys easily. “Menendez, Martinez, and Lee, you’re going up with Davidson. Gold leader is already waiting topside.” 

“You,” you point to one of the new arriving agents, “What’s your name?”

“Agent Callahan,” the man you pointed at responded. 

“I’ll have you join Davidson,” you order as you turn to the other agent, “what about you?” 

“Agent Moore,” the agent replied. You nod in acknowledgement, “You’re joining my team in the meantime.” 

The five agents jumped inside the truck and began transporting the prototypes to the surface. 

“Harris, you’re driving that one over there once it’s loaded up. Williams, Parker, Garcia and Moore are going with you. Bennett, you’ll be riding with me,” you continue giving out orders, “Gold leader is waiting for us before moving to the established rendezvous point.”

As you turn to load more boxes, you notice the Deputy Director standing between the cylindrical columns of the large underground parking space. Your gaze lingered on her for a few moments before grabbing one of the small crates and putting it in the truck. Maria noticed this but ignored it. She cannot afford to be distracted by you and this… fling.

She did not know how to describe your relationship as it stood.

“Keep loading boxes, I’ll be back in a minute,” you tell your team, before climbing up the platform and standing beside her.

 “Most of the equipment has already been moved, Gold leader’s team is en route, and my team is taking care of the last few boxes. This should be the last truck from this level and Red and Blue leader reported their levels are cleared. We should be out of here in no more than eight, ten minutes,” you report, crossing your arms over your chest as you oversee your team along with her. 

“Make it five,” she says without looking at you, “I want everyone out of here as quickly as possible.” Her posture remained stiff beside you, and you couldn’t help but be upset by that. 

“Have you thought about what I told you?” you ask quietly. Her posture does not ease. She instead inhales sharply.

 “Yes,” her tone was tense, her answer short. “And?” you prodded after a few beats of silence. “I don’t know,” she answers. 

You sigh in disappointment, but you were not surprised. For as long as you’re known the woman beside you, her main focus has always been her job. You knew this going into this ‘relationship.’ The “friends with benefits” thing had been working out just fine. You met up whenever you wanted to, did whatever you wanted to with no strings attached. But just like one of those cliché movies you sometimes watched, you caught feelings for the woman who had become now more closed off than ever. 

Despite your attempts to keep your changed feelings hidden, she had noticed the subtle shift in your actions, gestures and the way you spoke to her. You yourself did not think you were doing anything different, but apparently, you were wrong. She asked you if anything had changed and you were honest. You told her your feelings about the arrangement had changed and were wanting something more with her, if she agreed. You were foolish for bringing it up at all to her.

She began to shut you out almost immediately, much to your anger and disappointment. Thus, you offered her a sort of ultimatum. She was to decide what she wanted out of the ‘relationship’, out of you, but if she could not, you would call everything off and you would go your separate ways.

The echo of a trunk closing snaps you out of your thoughts. The truck’s engine turns on and you watch as Harris and the other assigned agents drive out of the lot. “Green leader, do you copy?” your comms buzzed with the other team leader’s voice. “Yes, Gold leader, I copy. The remaining prototypes are already en route to topside. Do we have the green light?” you ask. 

“Yes, we do. We are awaiting you and the rest of our teams to arrive up here to head for the rendezvous. See you in a few minutes.”

“Will do Gold Leader, expect us in about 10 minutes, over and out,” you shut off your comms device. You take a deep breath before turning to her, your face serious. 

“I need an answer soon, Hill. I don’t like wasting my time,” you say quietly before straightening up and leaving her side.

“Alright Bennett, hop in, time to go,” you announce loudly as you jump down from the platform, “Let’s go!” 

Maria watches you hop into one of the unattended Jeeps and turn on the ignition. Her tense shoulders loosen up, but her jaw does not unclench. You began to drive as soon as Agent Bennett sat beside you. Her eyes trail after you as the car leaves the parking space.

“So,” Bennett draws out the word casually. “No,” you shut it down quickly.

“You and the Deputy Director?” he pressed on, a smirk creeping up on his lips. “No,” you insisted. 

“That’s a yes.”

“Bennett,” you say warningly. He did not take your tone seriously, knowing that it was all in good fun. Except that it was not very fun for you.

“HR would have a field day with the both of you. Do you think she would get suspended for it? Would you get suspended? Oh, do you think Fury knows?” he pressed on, going off on a tangent now like a gossiping hen. 

“Adrian Bennett, if you don’t shut up now, I will suspend you for spreading rumors,” you say in a serious tone, your grip on the wheel getting tighter.

“Oh, come on boss, it’s all in good fun,” Bennett replies, nudging your shoulder good-naturedly. 

“For you, maybe. Besides, there’s nothing going on between the Commander and me. So, don’t go spreading that around,” you say firmly. Part of you feared that your voice would betray you as you spoke those words, but you managed to keep your tells in check.

“Alright, whatever you say, boss.”

But what he said had struck a chord in you. Had you really been that obvious? You weren’t a spy after all, you were a soldier. Your confusing, undisclosed “relationship” with Hill could get you both in a huge amount of trouble.

You cast your thoughts aside. She could very well choose to end what you have, reject any potential future involvement with you. You sigh softly, opting to focus on the winding tunnel ahead of you.

“Thinking about your girlfriend?”

“Adrian.”

“Okay, okay, I’m done, I’m done.”

You watch as a few cars come into view from your rearview mirrors. It wasn’t until the sound of gunshots echoed within the tunnels that you figured out something was wrong. A blue flash of energy flew towards one of the cars, obliterating it in the process. 

“What the fuck?!” you yell as you watch the remains of the car lose control, going up a ramp and flipping over. The destroyed vehicle swung slightly, stilling in a parallel position, blocking the other cars that had followed behind. 

“Do I shoot?!” Bennett asks as he pulls out his firearm, waiting on your orders. “Stay vigilant but don’t engage yet!” you tell Bennett as you reach for the communicator on your hip.

“Agent Hill, we’re in line of a hostile force, do we engage?!” you yell into your comms as you continue to drive forwards, speeding up as you go. The earth beneath your vehicle began to shake violently. 

“Engage, if possible, but focus on getting out, I won’t have any heroes tonight,” the strained voice of Maria crackles through. The hostile force’s vehicle passes you by, and Bennett trains his gun on it. 

“No heroes, Bennett,” you remind him, but watch the vehicle for any hostility. A man dressed in strange clothes sat in the cargo bed of the truck. He looked ill, but his eyes were fierce. A man on a mission.

 A few moments later, a truck skidded into the tunnel, narrowly avoiding collision with the wall. The car drifts, turning in a half circle to face the hostile force. Both vehicles collided, the backwards facing car attempting to slow down the hostiles. Shots flew from each vehicle, which prompted Bennett to shoot, too.

The strangely dressed man looked at the both of you, his eyes holding a cold determination. He pointed a bright gold staff at you and your eyes widened. Before anything could happen though, the hostile’s vehicle began swerving from side to side, shaking off the truck that was blocking its path. 

The driver recovered control quickly though and continued in hot pursuit. What sounds like a crackle of thunder follows closely behind you, much to your confusion. You stare through the rearview mirrors and watch as the tunnels begin to collapse, and it's gaining on you, fast. 

You press all the way down on the gas pedal, the vehicle lurching forwards with renewed ferocity. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” the string of swears leaves your mouth as the tunnel collapse seemed to be faster than your car ever could. 

“Fuck!” you scream as a large piece of the underground structure falls right in front of you. You turn the wheel hard in the attempt to dodge it to no avail. The rest of the structure continues to crumble, and you lose control of your vehicle. There was little you could do as the jeep was headed for what used to be a stone ceiling. You press down hard on the breaks and turn the wheel to the side. You crash against it, but not as hard as you expected. The last thing you see is what remains of the ceiling crashing on top of you as you raise your arms over your head.

Maria eventually abandoned her focus on trying to stop Barton and the hostile force. It would be all for naught if she was dead. She pressed down as hard as she could on the gas pedal, the vehicle going as fast as it could. It was not fast enough as the collapsing tunnel caught up to her.  

Maria’s head throbbed as she shifted from her position inside the trapped vehicle. She could feel blood dripping from her nose and fresh bruises forming in her arms and legs. The adrenaline from the chase was beginning to give out, exhaustion settling deep in her bones. She looked over the shifting rubble and debris of the now collapsed tunnels.

Did you manage to escape? She doesn’t remember seeing you or your jeep get out before she had. 

“Green leader, do you copy?” Hill spoke evenly into her communicator. She was met with the silent crackle of her device. “Green leader, do you copy?” she repeats herself, quietly begging for your response. Silence. Your name leaves her lips, dropping all formalities, her voice strained, “are you there?” 

There was still no answer from you. She began switching between radio frequencies, catching different snippets of reports as she did.

“--underground tunnels have colla–”

“--er coming in, several men are dow–”

“--act has been stolen from—”

She continued switching between frequencies until Coulson’s voice rang through her communicator, “Director? Director Fury, do you copy?”

“The Tesseract is with a hostile force. I have men down. Hill?” Fury’s voice quickly followed.

“A lot of men still under. I don’t know how many survivors.” She says, breathing heavily as she climbed out of her mangled vehicle. The image of you being trapped under all this debris and rubble flashed before her eyes. Her heart momentarily stops, worry pulsing in waves throughout her body.

“Sound a general call. I want every living soul not working rescue looking for that briefcase,” Fury instructed.

“Roger that.”

“Coulson, get back to base. This is a Level Seven. As of right now, we are at war.”

Maria clenched her jaw as she processed the last few words. She knew what this meant, what was to come. Despite this, her thoughts wandered to you.

She finishes climbing out of the truck on shaky legs and moves past giant blocks of stone and rubble. Hill switched back to the channel you had last spoken through. She uses your call sign once more; it had dawned on her that, after the collapse, a signal might be non-existent, but she was still hoping to hear an answer. Once more, she was met with dreadful silence.

She calls out your name again, soft and anxious, “please be okay.”

May 2nd, 16:00 hrs, 14 hours later…

The Helicarrier was teeming with life, S.H.I.E.L.D. agents running around in preparation for the arrival of Fury’s new team. The Director had stepped out to recruit Steve Rogers himself, while the Black Widow had been pulled off mission to retrieve Dr. Banner and Agent Coulson had been sent to grab Tony Stark. 

Maria walked around the bridge, looking over the monitors of the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents below her. Various agent profiles appeared on a few of the screens, other monitors occupied by mission reports, schematics, maps and graphics. 

Your picture on one of the monitors made her pause, a wave of anxiety courses through her body. She would not let it show though, presenting herself as the poster child of levelheadedness. She swallows hard as she walks closer to the monitor, crouching down beside the agent overlooking the incoming report. 

Her chest tightened when she saw you were still M.I.A. “What’s the status of the search and rescue?” Maria asks, subtly clenching her jaw as she stares at your picture. 

“It’s been slow, only about 31% of missing agents have been recovered, both dead and alive,” the agent, a short blonde, reported somberly, “There’s a lot of ground to cover and there are not enough teams available to work the mission.”

“Keep me updated,” Maria told the agent as she rose from her crouched position, “I want any and all new developments sent to my datapad.” 

“Yes, Commander.”

Maria returned to her position overseeing the main deck. She stared back down at the Main Deck Data Panels, overlooking the Helicarrier’s systems, routing ground teams for the search of Barton and setting up preparations for the Director’s team. Despite her attempts to focus on the influx of reports on Barton, Loki, and the status of Fury’s team, her mind would wonder and think of you. You, trapped under the rubble in the Jeep. You, potentially hurt. Potentially dead. A cold dread settled over chest as those thoughts consumed her mind.    

She stared down at the datapad, switching over to read the names of agents recovered from the facility.

Rodriguez, Vivian, M.I.A.

Porter, William, M.I.A.

Fitzgerald, Liliam, K.I.A.

Harris, Augustus, M.I.A.

Greene, Emiliano, Recovered.

She did not know what was worse, the fact that she had still not found your name on the list, or finding it and potentially reading K.I.A. The longer you went without being found, the less likely it would be a rescue and more of a recovery mission. She pushes the thought away. You will be fine. You are alive. You have to be.

“Commander,” Fury’s booming voice startles her out of her thoughts. 

“Yes, sir?” she asks, her voice firm, hiding having been caught off focus. She had not been informed that the Director had already returned to the Helicarrier. 

“Any progress on the Tesseract or Loki?” he asked, his voice stern. 

“Nothing yet, nothing has been reported on the ground and the techs are still in process of tapping all wireless cameras,” Hill reports as she looks up from her datapad.

“What about the rescue at the facility?”

“33% of agents have been rescued. About 12% of those have been found dead, but that statistic is slowly rising.”

The Director gave no reaction other than taking a deep breath. He raised his head slightly and his face remained neutral.

“Sir, due to those statistics, I want to reassign a few teams to aid in the search and rescue mission,” she states firmly. She held her head high and her posture straight. For a second, your face flashed in her mind and her heart sank a little deeper in her chest.

She was not doing it just for you. It was also for all the agents still trapped under the rubble and them being able to continue living their lives. That is what she was telling herself at least, feeling slightly guilty of the selfish part of her that was focused on you, and only you. Yet, for all she knew, you might already be dead. 

The thought made her stomach churn uncomfortably. She did not want to picture you trapped in those tunnels, crushed under the weight of an entire building. A heavy feeling made her heart sink to her stomach. Was there something she could have done to avoid this?

“Pull the remaining S.P.E.C.T.R.U.M. team and reassign them to the search and rescue, but that is all I can afford to compromise.” 

“Yes, sir,” A wave of relief momentarily soothed the drowning feeling in her heart. She began to walk away, to give the new orders before Fury called out for her once more.

“And Hill? I need you here,” Fury gives her a pointed, knowing look. The look made her somewhat nervous, but she nonetheless acknowledged him with a sharp nod, before returning to her position and reassigning the rest of your team for the search and rescue.

May 3rd, 20:37 hrs, 42 hours later…

Maria’s feet dragged her to her quarters, having been relieved of duty about ten minutes earlier. The last twelve hours had been rough, but the search for Loki had finally paid off. He was located at a gala in Stuttgart, Germany and Fury’s assembled team for the Avengers Initiative had just been dispatched to retrieve the Trickster god.

Her eyes were heavy with sleep and despite having just gotten off duty, her job was not quite done. She sat on top of her cot, her datapad in hand as she watched the stream of recent mission reports and updates on Barton and Loki. After reading those, she began looking through the recovery list, dread settling in her stomach once more. She scrolled through hundreds of agents' names, the status pinned right beside them.

Smith, Jonathan, K.I.A.

Badillo, Sarah, K.I.A.

Sullivan, Nina, K.I.A.

Pruny, Charlie, Recovered

Barrett, Daniel, K.I.A.

Maria swallowed hard as she continued to read the names of both fallen and recovered agents. She knows this is what happens in this line of work. She knows that as much as S.H.I.E.L.D. invests in making sure their agents come back safe, it is not a guarantee and that casualties are not something that can be avoided. There was still a lingering feeling of guilt and profound sorrow, knowing that not everyone gets to come back.

She rubs her eyes, trying to stave off the tiredness that settled into her bones. Your name has still not popped up on any of the reports, you are still missing. The sick feeling she had become well acquainted with returned. 

You cannot be dead. She refuses to believe that. Your last meeting replayed in her head. The disappointment and frustration in your eyes were burned into her mind. Your ultimatum rang inside her head.

Your face would appear every time she closed her eyes. She longed to see your smile again. For your eyes to sparkle with mischief, to feel your warm hand in hers. She wants to hear you laugh at a stupid joke. She missed the sound of your voice, the curve of your nose, the quirk of your lips. She missed you. She cannot lose you, not now, not yet. She loved you, you didn’t know that she lo–

Oh. Oh.

She was in love with you. 

The realization hit her like a bullet to the chest. She was in love with you. She had been so caught up in her job, so caught up in her own responsibilities, she never once realized how her own feelings had changed towards you. Part of her felt like a hypocrite. She had called you out on the near imperceivable changes in your behavior, but she had not realized how her own feelings had changed. How did she not realize it before?

She tries to think back to the last time she felt this way about someone. Has she ever felt that way before? She remembered her past relationships, having crushes and a bit of infatuation, but those had never developed into love.

She had always been married to her job. When she first joined S.H.I.E.L.D., she worked tirelessly to prove her worth as an agent. She rose through the ranks through hard and consistent work, becoming quite a formidable agent. She knew not everyone was on board with the Director’s pick of Second in Command. She did not mind it though, she had nothing to prove to those who disapproved. She knew she was always damn good at her job.

Perhaps that is why she did not realize her feelings before. Maybe that is why she had unfairly pushed you away. She leaned her head against the wall behind her, the horrid, guilty feeling coming back with an unyielding vengeance.

Why did she realize her feelings now? Why not before? Why did you have to be trapped under the damn tunnels, potentially dead? Why has no one found you yet? Why can’t she be there, searching for you herself?

She takes deep, even breaths as she works herself up again. No, she cannot afford that right now. You can’t be dead. She’s holding onto the hope that you are not dead.

She looks down at her datapad once more, a new set of agent names scrolling upwards.

Maguire, Christian, Recovered

Duque, Cristina, Recovered

Taylor, Rosa, K.I.A.

Buchi, Mamelu, Recovered

Bennett, Adrian, K.I.A.

Her heart stops as she spots your name. Her hands shook as she stared down at your status.

Recovered

A relieved laugh escapes her involuntarily. You are alive. You are still alive. The report said that you were in critical condition and were en route to the S.H.I.E.L.D. Trauma Centrum based in Nevada. She needed to see you.

The relief that had soothed her anxiety is short lived as she realizes she cannot leave yet. Her duties, responsibilities and the current state of the emergency the world finds itself in would not allow her to be with you at the moment. ‘I need you here,’ Fury’s voice reverberated in her head. She sighs deeply in frustration, guilt and relief playing tug-of-war with her heart. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers quietly as she stares down at your profile. 

May 4th, 15:24 hrs, 61 hours later…

“Oh, and uh, as for the matter that’s not in question? Where you morons tried to nuke New York? Well, that’s on the record. As in we recorded it. We do that. We’re S.H.I.E.L.D.,” silence hung between all the council members as Maria continued. The council members would not look at her, the shame of their decision hanging over them.

“So, if you’re thinking about coming after Nick Fury, ever,” she emphasizes the last word as her fingers work the control panel to open the privacy door of the Helicarrier’s main deck, “Think really, really hard.” 

With a pointed look and a victorious smirk, she turns off the screen before rejoining the main deck.

“How did that go?” Fury approached beside her shortly after. 

“Sold you down the river, sir. You should have your job within the month,” she replied as she began overlooking the Main Deck Data Panels. 

“Good work,” he says before continuing, “you should maybe ask for a chair.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she says with an amused smile. She falters briefly though, as the Avengers make their way into her mind. 

“Sir, how does it work now? They’ve gone their separate ways. Some, pretty extremely far,” she walked alongside Fury as they made their way towards the large windows that oversaw the outside of the Helicarrier. She had had no faith in the Avengers Initiative. How did such a disjointed group with such different backgrounds ever function as a team? Who was to say they could do it again? “If we get into a situation like this again, what happens then?”

“They’ll come back,” he replies as if it were the simplest truth in the world.

“Are you really sure about that?” She did not quite know how his faith in this group could be so unwavering, especially after witnessing all their arguments before and during the recent battle. 

“I am,” he answers once again as if it were the easiest question on Earth.

“Why?” she asked earnestly. 

“Because we’ll need them to.”

A silent understanding passed between them as they overlooked the outside of the Helicarrier, agents running along the aviation runway. It was there that she understood that it was a play of faith. What had consistently carried the Avengers team was Fury’s belief in them, individually in each of them as well as in a group. It is that very same belief that would bring them together if any other event were to occur. 

            She takes a deep breath, her thoughts wondering to you once more. She has not been able to follow up on your status with everything that had happened since early that morning. A naive part of her wondered if maybe her belief that you would be okay had anything to do with your survival. 

Silence hung between both Director and Commander for a few moments. “Don’t you have somewhere to be, Agent Hill?” Fury asks suddenly, turning his head towards her and eyed her knowingly. 

“Sir?” Maria asks, startled. Did he know? How did he find out? Perhaps she had not hidden her emotions as masterfully as she thought. Perhaps they would both be in trouble for the duration of the month.

“Go, we’ll talk about this later,” his voice was stern, but it did not match his soft expression.

“Thank you, sir,” she replies in a similar tone, but a ghost of a smile makes its way onto her lips. She leaves his side and hurriedly leaves the main deck.

Fury watched his Second in Command walk away. With a small smile, he approved the take-off of a Quinjet heading for Nevada. 

May 4th, 20:12 hrs, 66 hours later…

Maria had not been allowed to see you for the first 2 hours since arriving at the S.H.I.E.L.D. Trauma Centrum in Nevada. She had to argue her way into seeing you, having been told that only spouses and family would be allowed to enter. She was successful in the end, though, having pulled her rank into the conversation. She was not entirely proud of it, but it got her in and that is all she cared about.

Eventually, she was able to meet with one of your doctors. She informed Maria that your next of kin had been notified of your current state. The doctor also explained your injuries and the status of your treatment. Several of your ribs had been broken, you had a punctured lung, a dislocated shoulder, and had suffered a concussion. One of your arms was shattered and it had been a miracle they did not have to amputate. Maria was both surprised and relieved your injuries were not more extensive. You have still not woken up since arriving at the Centrum.

She was allowed into your room shortly after the meeting with the doctor. Your non-dominant arm was covered in a white cast. The side of your face was heavily bruised and slightly swollen. Other bruises, stitched cuts and patched-up scrapes littered your face, arms and chest. You were paler than usual, and your eyes were slightly sunken. 

Maria swallowed hard as she took in the sight of you. It was hard to see you in such a state. She approached your bed slowly, as if moving too quickly would make you disappear. A soft beeping was the only sound in the room, aside from the gentle buzz of the air vents. 

She sat at your bedside, watching as your chest rose and fell, slow, steady breaths leaving you. It was the most beautiful sound she had heard in the last few days. She took your uninjured hand in hers, the coldness of your fingertips sending an involuntary shiver down her spine. She did not let go though, as she began to gently stroke the top of your hand with her thumb. You were here. You would be okay. She shifted around in the hospital chair in attempts to get comfortable, exhaustion of the past few days finally reaching her. She continued to hold your hand as she began to feel the lull of sleep calling her. 

She woke up when she felt you squeeze her hand ever so gently. Her eyes fluttered open, her body demanding sleep but her heart demanding to see you. Maria first saw her hand in yours and she raised her head to see you. Your eyes met hers, a lazy smile spreading over your lips. She smiled back as she took you in. Your eyes were droopy and slightly red. It was clear you were desperately fighting off sleep.

“Hey,” Maria whispered, running her thumb over the top of your hand soothingly.

“Hey,” you whispered back. Your voice was hoarse and thick with sleep, your eyes fluttering open and close.

“How are you feeling?” Maria asked worriedly.

“I’m tired,” you reply breathlessly, giving her a small, playful smile. Maria smiles back, raising her hand to rest beside your head, and begins to gently stroke your cheek. You lean into her touch, your eyes beginning to droop shut.

“Rest,” she commands softly. You continue to fight off sleep, struggling to open your eyes to stare back into hers. “No,” you whine softly, “I don’t want you to go away.”

“I won’t go away,” Maria replied, a pang of sympathy and guilt spreading in her chest. “Promise?” your eyes begin to close against your will once more. 

“I promise.” 

You continued to struggle against sleep for about a minute before slipping back into unconsciousness. Maria continued to stroke your cheek soothingly, watching your chest rise and fall in a rhythmic pattern. You were here, you were alive. Her hand found yours once more as she laid her head on the bed.

 “I won’t go away,” she repeated quietly as she watched you for a while longer, eventually falling asleep once more.

You were still asleep by the time she woke up again a few hours later. She sat up in her seat, her back popping and cracking as she did, a dull ache having settled throughout her body. She rolled her shoulders in attempts to loosen up her muscles as she walked towards the bathroom, hoping to quickly freshen up.

She notices you shifting in your bed as she quietly steps back into the room, your head lifting up when you notice her. You adjusted yourself to sit up on the bed, a pained wince decorating your features as you did. “Hey, hey, be careful,” Maria scolded, her tone soft and gentle, as she approached your bedside, “You’ve been out for a few days. How are you feeling?”

“I’m better. Less tired,” you reply, your voice cracking as you speak, before giving her a lazy smile. 

Maria cannot help but smile back at you, “That’s good to hear. Do you need anything?” You shake your head gently before resting your head against your pillow, your eyes fluttering shut for a few seconds.  

“You’re hurt,” you ask as you notice the stitches at the side of her brow.

“Don’t worry about me, I’m okay,” Maria replies as she sits beside you once more. She placed her hand on the bed, inches away from yours. 

You take her in. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she no longer wore her S.H.I.E.L.D. suit, instead wore a spare physical training uniform. Her eyes were tired, darkened bags hanging under her eyes. Bruises and small cuts littered her arms as well. Despite this, she held a small, unwavering smile.

Silence settled over the both of you for a few minutes. There was a far-off look to you, your eyes holding a mixture of guilt, worry and fear. Maria sighed quietly, guessing what you might be thinking about. 

“Did… did my team…?” your voice was quiet and pleading. Your eyes did not meet hers, fearing her expression would give away the answer before her lips could.

“Agent Bennett… he didn’t make it, sweetheart,” she says sympathetically, the soft, gentle tone never leaving her voice, “I’m sorry.”

A pained sigh escaped your lips as your eyes began to water. He had a son, one who had been living at the facility with him before everything went to hell. The boy had been evacuated at the beginning of the emergency. But now his father…

“And the rest?” you ask shakily.             “Harris, William and Parker made it out unscathed. Garcia was treated for minor injuries and is approved to return to her usual duties,” she answered in the same soft tone, offering you a sad smile. 

A few tears escaped your eyes, a mixture of sadness for your fallen friend and the relief of knowing the rest of your team had made it out. Maria had inched her hand closer, her fingers ghosting over yours. She gently held your hand when you didn’t pull away, giving it a soft squeeze and returning to stroke the top of your hand with her thumb.

            “So, um,” you begin to speak after a while, your voice still shaky and unsteady, “what-what did I miss?”

Maria knew you wanted to distract yourself from the news of the passing of your friend. She offered you a sad smile and a gentle squeeze of your hand before beginning to tell you about the last two days. From gathering the Avengers, to the loss of Agent Coulson, to the Hulk rampaging in the Helicarrier, to the battle of New York. You listened as intently as you could, the thought of your dead friend still hung in the forefront of your mind. 

Silence hung between the both of you for several minutes after Maria told you what you had missed. Her presence here confused you. She kept her promise, she stayed, but that surprised you. Why was she here? S.H.I.E.L.D. was dealing with the aftermath of an alien attack, yet she was sitting beside you, comforting you. The state in which your relationship currently stood does not warrant this, so why was she choosing to be here?

“Maria?” you ask tentatively. She looked into your eyes at the mention of her name. You swallowed down the bubble of fear that formed at the pit of your stomach, “What are we?”

The words said were just barely louder than the medical equipment in the room. Your gaze fell to your hands, watching as you twiddled with your thumbs. 

You suddenly feel her warm hand cup your cheek, gently guiding you to look at her. Her eyes held an earnest, vulnerable look, one that captured your heart and attention. “I thought I lost you, when you were trapped in the tunnels,” the sincerity in her voice almost caught you off guard, “and that scared me more than anything else.”

She squeezed your hand gently, as if to emphasize her point. The vulnerability in her eyes and her voice were something you had never been privy to before, and part of you almost doesn’t know how to react to it. 

“Even an alien invasion?” you give her a weak smile, while also mentally kicking yourself. This was not the moment for you to be making dumb jokes. Maria takes it in stride though, as she gives you an amused smile, “Yes, even an alien invasion.”

“I’m sorry for pushing you into making a decision you weren’t ready to make. I know how important your job is to you, and…” you apologize, your eyes falling to your hands once more.

“No, I’m sorry for pushing you away,” Maria does not want to hear your apologies. You have nothing to apologize for. All she wanted was you, she knew that now. “I… guess I hadn’t realized I had fallen in love with you, and those feelings scared me.”

Your eyes open wide at her confession as you raise your head to look at her, “You-you what?”

Maria’s eyes widened as well, not having realized what she admitted. For a brief moment of panic, she wanted to take it back. Maybe you were not in that place yet. But she reigns herself in and pushes that feeling away, before taking a deep breath and looking at you straight in the eye. She whispers your name oh so gently and lovingly, “I love you.”

A mixture of emotions, good and bad, swirled in her ocean-colored eyes like a storm. She was laying out the most vulnerable parts of herself to you, allowing herself to drop the emotional walls she had built around herself, letting you see how much she cared for you, letting you know she had fallen for you the way you fell for her.

“I love you, too,” you say softly, almost breathlessly. A quiet laugh escapes you as you say those words. You see as relief and pure joy fills her expression. She joins your laugh as she gently holds your face in her hands.

She leaned over you, capturing your lips in a soft kiss. A warm feeling erupted in your chest, a childlike glee overtaking you. Your lips moved in tandem with each other, following a familiar rhythm. Even so, this kiss felt different, it felt renewed and exciting and right. 

You deepened the kiss, placing your hand behind her neck, your fingers getting lost in her hair. That was until you pulled away to gasp for air, your lung capacity not quite what it used to be. She leaned her head against yours, a soft chuckle escaping her.

“Cheeky,” she whispered, her hot breath hitting against your face.

“Can you blame me?” you replied with a mischievous smile.

The door opened suddenly, revealing two nurses. Maria pulled away from you to look at the door, all parties in the room momentarily freezing as the intimate moment was interrupted. Neither you nor Maria had realized until now that your heart monitor had begun beeping rapidly, despite how loud it typically is. Your cheeks felt warm as you looked between Maria and the nurses.

“We heard the monitor– we’ll-we’ll come back later,” one of the nurses said sheepishly. “Sorry for interrupting, go on,” the other one said as they both stepped out.

Soft giggles escaped your lips once the door closed. Maria looked down at you, as she began to laugh, too. She begins to gently brush the hair on the top of your head. You rested your head against your pillow as you looked up at Maria lovingly. 

Maria sends you a big smile, the ones that showed pure love and happiness. Her eyes sparkled with a mixture of joy and relief and pure adoration. After days of the awful sinking feeling in her chest and the uncomfortable churning in her stomach, there was finally a lightness in her heart.

She leaned over you, placing a soft kiss on your lips once more.

[zukosdualdao]

Just some more thoughts I wanted to chat with you about. I am getting some of these points from anti-Zuko spaces, admittedly, in an attempt to think about things, but only the ones that I think are interesting questions to explore regardless.

The first thing I think is interesting is the idea that part of why Zuko stole the ostrich-horses from Song is not just because it was convenient, but specifically because he resented the vulnerability, and it was a way for him to lash out. I think that's interesting and it fits with some of the other stuff I've seen you saying. It was especially cruel given Song's mother helped Iroh, but nonetheless, I think that makes sense.

Second one isn't actually directly from any anti-Zuko blog I don't think, but I've seen people in your circles (I can't remember if you said this) say that Azula brought Zuko back in honor purely as a way to pawn off the blame on him potentially, but I... don't feel like that really fits? Like, obviously she was also being manipulative a lot, by not telling him she told Ozai he killed the Avatar, but if she really wanted Zuko out of the way, she didn't need to bring him in at all? She could have probably won by herself (or at least, I find it hard to believe she would think she would need Zuko), and she certainly didn't need to give him credit for killing the Avatar– she could have just said that she got in a deadly blow but the Avatar has a waterbending healer, if she knew that as I believe Giancarlo Volpe said.

Fundamentally, I don't see a reason for her to bring Zuko back, especially in such a way that he would return to the role of crown prince, unless she genuinely also wanted to have him back. Sure, her love might be selfish, and she may have also wanted someone for Ozai to blame for things, but it strikes me as odd to claim that there was no positive feeling towards Zuko, especially given The Beach, which I just rewatched for this ask. For example, we see her come get Zuko from their old house, and then try and help Zuko figure out who he's angry at, which I do think was genuinely her being helpful, given Mai and Ty Lee were also doing it.

To be clear, she obviously also loves making fun of, tormenting, putting down, and generally, abusing Zuko, and it's very possible that was part of her motivation for bringing him back, but it seems like it's not just that.

Third, and this one you might agree on, Zuko seems to genuinely not have much positive feeling associated with Azula? Like maybe I'm forgetting something, but I can't think of a single time Zuko felt positively about Azula. The closest three times I can think of are when he suggested to Iroh that he should try and get along with Azula (which sounded kind of rote, but maybe he also believed it), when Azula was falling and he said she's not going to make it, sounded shocked and maybe a tad worried, then had a very slightly barely soft expression for a single frame when she did, and finally after her breakdown. I think that does fit in with the idea he can only feel compassion for Azula when she's in a vulnerable position, which I think I've seen you reblog before and I agree with? (And of course, this is precisely what makes it possible to help with Azula post-war, because he's seen her in that vulnerable position and she continues to be in a relatively vulnerable position).

Anyways, that one seems doubly interesting because he also doesn't seem to have any good memories of Azula when she was younger, either? He has a flashback of Ozai with his hand on young Zuko's back, of Lu Ten and Iroh, of Ursa of course, but there's never a time when he has a flashback to Azula at all.

Anyways, these are just some things I was thinking about and I was wondering if you'd be interested in going some of them, and what you feel about the positive feelings in the Fire Sibling relationship more generally. Are there signs of care from Zuko to Azula that I've missed?

Putting most of this under a cut, lol, maybe one day I'll be able to talk about things with any sort of concision but no one should hold their breath on that tbh

Oh, I 100% agree with the point regarding Zuko and the ostrich horse he stole. I don't even really see that as an anti-Zuko take and rather, just like. What happened, because it was part of his journey, lol.

(Aside: which is I guess what bothers me about many anti-Zuko spaces? Which is not to say you're doing or saying this, I know you're not, just in general. I'm perfectly willing to criticize the characters I like and talk about their faults and poor choices, of which Zuko has many. The issue is that so many treat those things as a condemnation of Zuko's character on the whole or his redemption journey, but, like... the narrative treats those things like they're wrong. Iroh may agree to it, but he's not happy about taking the ostrich horse and notes it as being unkind, especially, as you note, given the kindness Song and her family just showed them. For a redemption arc to work, the character has to have something to redeem himself FROM, so I"m like... yeah... he sure did do that... and then he grew and changed, lol. They don't go back to every specific instance and be like, "Yup, that was wrong" because it wouldn't be realistic and wouldn't move the story forward. When he does get confronted with the wrong things he did, it's from the Gaang, because that's what's most relevant to the larger story being told, and he takes accountability and atones.)

I think something important to remember that Zuko's perspective on the war and the Fire Nation cannot be disentangled from Zuko's perspective on Ozai as the father who abused him. Because Ozai's power-hungry and imperialist worldview, whether Zuko would put it in these terms, was something he was challenging when he defended the division being sacrificed, and even in refusing to fight Ozai back. Which relates to this episode because Zuko, for the first real time, is considering the perspective of the people the Fire Nation, in their war efforts, have othered and harmed. When Song is showing him the scar on her leg, he looks horrified - the war effort is not just soldiers battling out on even footing, but families getting displaced from their homes and torn apart, civilians getting burned, too. Zuko, up to now, has been willfully ignoring what some part of him knows is wrong, but when confronted with Song's suffering, real and right in front of him, he is forced to look at that more deeply. I know a lot of people might say "Okay, but then, if he knows it's wrong at this point, why doesn't he change right here and now?" But that's what I love about Zuko's character arc. It's not clear or linear are simple because people aren't that way, generally. Yes, in this moment, Zuko is confronted with and aware of at least some of the atrocities the Fire Nation has committed. But in that same scene, he's also confronted with Song noting that he is a victim of the Fire Nation, too. (Which he is, albeit not in the exact same way. But there are parallels - not only were he and Song both burned, but they were both forced out of their homes.) Zuko can't fully acknowledge or comes to term with the Fire Nation being on wrong side of the war without also acknowledging that not only is Ozai abusive and doesn't want him back, but that he's wrong for that. Zuko isn't ready to accept any of that, so instead of taking this moment of vulnerability as a chance to grow, he doubles down and reasserts himself as what he thinks, based on Ozai's standards, he should be - someone who's cruel and take things like they're owed to him.

I do think we disagree on the second point pretty heavily, which is fine, but to offer my perspective:

I disagree with the notion that Azula wouldn't think she may need Zuko to win. Azula is very skilled and can be very arrogant about and assured of her own skills, that much is true. But she also often prefers not to fight alone. I remember reading an interview (I would have to dig around for it) where one of the ATLA creators said that she surrounds herself with people like Mai and Ty Lee because she understands they have skills she doesn't. I tend to see her as someone who is very distinctly aware of what advantages she has and very intentionally fills those gaps.

Zuko is the wild card in "The Crossroads of Destiny." He is the only person, by the point of the final battle, who no one (I think, for a moment, even himself) knows exactly what he'll do or which side he'll fight for. Iroh and Azula both make their bids for him - Iroh tries to appeal to his sense of morality and sense of self. Azula tries to appeal to things she knows he wants - his honor and the love of their father back, yes, but also to be genuinely needed and respected by his family in general, including her. And while what she says here is couched in manipulation, often, what's so dangerous about manipulation is that there is or can be an element of truth to it, but it's twisted to fit the manipulator's agenda. She tells him that she needs him to win the fight, and I think that part, she genuinely means.

I don't think she would believe she needed Zuko to win a fight in most or every circumstance. This fight is different. She has faced off against the Gaang-Zuko-Iroh when they very, very briefly joined forces against her in "The Chase." The only reason she got out of that is because she feigned surrender, and, using their moment of surprise/distraction, targeted Iroh. That will not work twice. I think she is incredibly aware that this group of people at least holds the capacity to genuinely pose a threat to her. In fact, she is notably growing wary and arguably losing, with Aang and Katara facing off against her together, before Zuko intercedes. She's also very explicitly losing when she and Katara are facing off and Katara's got her trapped with her water-tentacles, and again, it's Zuko who cuts that off and saves Azula there. So not only do I think she was very intentionally encouraging Zuko to join her to fight because she needed him, I think she was pretty smart to do so. (Not morally good or justified, of course, but strategically competent.)

Of course, people can have more than one reason for doing something. I would say most people usually do. I don't think that Azula MINDED that the end result would be that Zuko came back, because (this is something I will delve into more below), having him around, I think, kind of boosts her ego. It's possible that she also has some degree of unhealthy but genuine affection for him - after all, people are complicated, and while Azula is abusive toward Zuko, it's possible to abuse someone and still love or be convinced you love them. That doesn't make it healthy or the abuse okay, of course, but my point is that I do agree with the general notion that Azula, while a villain in the narrative and abusive on a personal level, is not born evil nor 100% devoid of any good qualities. But I think we would also be remiss to act like it's not true that, a lot of the time, the reason Azula seems to enjoy having Zuko around, it's because she can demean him, like when she cornered into playing with them so she could embarass him as children. Or when she quite obviously delights in calling him paranoid and making him squirm while he confronts her about the lie she told that he killed the avatar.

Zuko being around gives her someone to be better than, given her status as Ozai's golden child and Zuko's as the scapegoat. (But again, more on that in a minute.) Any affection she does have for him is unfortunately deeply entangled with that aspect of their relationship as well.

I don't know if you've read that interview with Volpe in full, but I made an addition to this post a while ago that details the quote about this. Volpe makes it pretty explicit in the interview that as soon as Azula saw Katara sweep in, it was her explicit intention to lie about Zuko killing Aang so that he'd be the one to take the fall if/when it came to light that he was alive. One could argue about how well that was executed in-show (I would argue well, but to each their own), but it was the authorial intent. Authorial intent doesn't count for everything, of course, but in such a series-defining moment as this, I think it should count for a fair amount.

(*Note that I don't know where to fit but I think is relevant - on the Zuko coming back and being crown prince front - I agree that it seems somewhat weird that Azula's willing to have him back, given that. But I did also read a post a while back (I can't find it; I'll try to see if I can dig it up at some point) talking about how Zuko's status as the crown prince, set to take over as Fire Lord one day, is... somewhat murky. Yes, he returns and is immediately hailed as a hero because of Azula's lie - but he's also often aimless and unsure of his real role in the Fire Nation at this point. He's frustrated with being sent off on a 'forced vacation' in "The Beach", he's not even sure whether he's allowed in the war meeting from "Nightmares and Daydreams". (And I read a lot of deliberate manipulation on Ozai (and Azula's) part in that. As mentioned in that last post, Zuko spends a lot of time in the series talking about his crown - but I'm not sure he spent a lot of time thinking about what it would mean to get it back. By the end of the series, Ozai is clearly drunk on power and trying to make himself the most powerful person in the world, basically, handing off the hollow title of Fire Lord to Azula. In truth, I don't think he ever wanted or expected either of his children to succeed him; he only saw them as extensions of himself. When Zuko is back, yes, he's being treated like he's a hero and more trusted/respected, but I'm not entirely convinced it would have lasted very long, had he not left. This next part is somewhat based on conjecture/headcanon, but I don't think it's entirely unreasonable to think that Azula doesn't think bringing Zuko back will mean, in Ozai's eyes, he is still next in line to become Fire Lord. Which I actually think she's right about. In her eyes, Zuko has always been the scapegoat who can't do anything right, and it won't take long before that's true again. But I also think that, while Azula has a pretty good read on how Ozai sees Zuko, part of her tragedy is that she does not have as good of a read on how Ozai sees her - he might on the surface treat her more respectfully or with my trust, but at the end of the day, he sees her as a weapon in service of his own ego and power. Knowing that, it's not difficult for me to imagine Azula might have thought she could eventually work things in her favor so she would be Fire Lord - she does, after all, have a pretty good example in Ozai of him doing just that. When Ozai makes her 'Fire Lord' in the finale, I do read some surprise there, but it doesn't seem to me like surprise that he would do such a thing - she deems that it "seems appropriate". I think the surprise is because the timing makes it pretty clear what a hollow gesture it is, and for the first time, she's being confronted with how Ozai truly sees her, and has truly used her.)

The last point is difficult to discuss because Azula and Zuko have a very complicated relationship because of Ozai's abuse of them both, and because his treatment of Azula encourages her to participate in Zuko's abuse as well. (Something pretty relevant to the second point above.)

I talked about this briefly before, but to reassert it: I see the way Ozai treats Azula and Zuko as a pretty clear demonstration of the idea of an abuser treating their children a 'golden child' and 'a scapegoat', respectively. (I have complicated feelings about the origins of these terms which I won't get into now, but regardless, they are pretty commonly recognized roles family structures can fall into that character dynamics and tropes often parallel.) Azula, on the surface, is praised and seemingly treated with more respect or trust, but there is a lot of pressure that no one can truly live up to placed on her, Ozai sees her skill as an extension of himself and in the context of how they can serve him (see him having her demonstrate for Azulon in the flashbacks of "Zuko Alone"), and Zuko is always there as an implicit threat of how she COULD be treated. ("You can't do this! You can't treat me like Zuko!") Zuko, by contrast, is most often treated like everything he does is wrong, and even when he's trying to do what he thinks Ozai wants, he's still a failure. (He's notably displeased by Zuko, in the same flashback sequence, trying to demonstrate his own skill even before it goes wrong, because the expectation is that Zuko will fail before he ever even tries.)

I know this is just like, defining terms, but I genuinely think it's important context to consider when talking about Zuko and Azula's relationship. The tragedy of Zuko and Azula is that they should be able to have a good relationship, but Ozai's abuse has ensured that they don't.

So, yes, I would say that Zuko seemingly has few positive feelings about Azula. Because there has been very little to be positive about. What he does displays a desire that things were different. While Azula is lying about wanting Zuko back home, she is obviously there as an extension of Ozai, but it's her telling this lie, her he's choosing, in this moment, to believe. Because he wants to be able to trust what she's saying and that their family, as a unit, including her, wants him back. In the moment you mentioned where he says he should be trying to get along with her, I think that is another acknowledgment that he wishes things were different because he would like to just get along with her. But she has proven herself dangerous, having just attacked Iroh, and Iroh rightly points out that he doesn't have to simply get along with her, because she is not willing to make the same effort. And yes, a lot of the moments of compassion he seems to feel for her are in moments of vulnerability, because in moments where she's in power, she's often using that power against him, to target him.

Azula does have moments where it may seem she has more positive feelings about Zuko's presence, but as I said before, it's hard to disentangle that from the broader context of their dynamic. I do think the moment in "The Beach" is one of her more genuine moments of care for Zuko, because she sees that he's sad and does something to show there's more to Azula than just cruelty, manipulation, etc. But it's also notable that Zuko is sad because he's finally starting to acknowledge that the way their family is isn't right or healthy, that he's not happy being back in the Fire Nation. Turning away from that is what Zuko's BEEN doing most of the series. He NEEDS to face that if he’s going to grow. Azula trying to get him to turn away from it in the moment isn't entirely healthy, even though that's not something I think she herself recognizes. I'm less inclined to think she was being caring when she asks him who he's angry at, because she immediately demeans him for the answer.

Which is sort of the problem with a lot of the evidence people will sometimes pull to show Azula caring about Zuko - they usually come from moments where either she's manipulating or straight up lying to Zuko or where she is insulting him. It's fine and in fact important to acknowledge that she has more sympathetic moments and is not this completely evil person with no capacity for love or affection (one of the show's central themes is, after all, to suggest that no one is born evil), but I often feel that, when people are making this argument, they are using it an attempt to justify the abuse Azula has committed against him. To say that, because she cares about him, it's okay. And I've seen people go further than that and suggest he's a bad brother for not putting up with her abuse. And I don't agree with either of those stances.

[yikesmary]

MOVING ON — kim mingyu or jeon wonwoo x reader

summary: in which giving up on kim mingyu seems to be the only solution, and jeon wonwoo is right there to help you out.

note: okay so to preface, this is very different from what I usually post. I wanted to try something different, so if it's bad, that's why. but I hope you guys like it either way. also poll at the end of this to see where you guys stand on who reader should end up with. but I don't know if I'll make a continuation for this so don't get your hopes too high as I don't have the best track record of finishing a multi-part fic.

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You were completely, utterly, and stupidly in love with your best friend, Kim Mingyu, ever since you could remember.

It's been years since you came to the realization, and it's been years since you haven't snapped out of the lovesick stupor that many of your friends sent you disappointed looks over.

You were in love with Mingyu, and Mingyu didn't seem to notice. Or, he knew you were in love with him but didn't bother to let you down gently. Either way, it hurt how your feelings weren't acknowledged.

For years you've tried getting over him. In the beginning, you were determined to make him fall in love with you. Even if it was just a fleeting moment of love, you wanted his eyes to look at you with the love he had for the other girls he's thought to be in love with.

But it hasn't happened.

And you were starting to lose hope.

"I think she's really the one guys," Mingyu said, his eyes practically in the shape of hearts as he spoke to you and the guys.

Ignoring the pity stares you were being given, unbeknownst to Mingyu, you tried putting on your best fake smile and said, "That's so great, Gyu! We're all so happy for you, right guys?"

When you turned to them, they were still too preoccupied with giving you stares, until you all gave them a warning glare. Various versions of "That's awesome" to "You're so lucky" came out of their mouths.

A yell of Mingyu's name came from nearby, and when you looked, it was her. You shouldn't loathe her as much as you did, considering she was the innocent one who had no idea about your feelings, but you couldn't help it.

It wasn't even your fault that Mingyu didn't know about how you felt about him, considering you tried telling him two years ago, but he thought you were joking and laughed so hard he was crying. You cried that day as well but for different reasons.

Realizing that she was probably going to sit with you guys, you didn't want to torture yourself so you cleared your throat and said, "I need to go,"

Before anyone could question you about your whereabouts, you quickly left. Grabbing your backpack and lunch tray, you threw out the remnants of your lunch and quickly exited the cafeteria, not even sparing a glance at her or your table of friends.

Mingyu looked at your fading figure confusedly and looked towards the guys. None of them were able to give him eye contact lest they accidentally blurted out the reason why you left so quickly, so nothing was discussed.

Wonwoo sighed as he looked in the direction you left and Mingyu, who hadn't been confused for long since she decided to sit beside Mingyu. Noticing that she refused to make any kind of eye contact or contact at all at Wonwoo, he sighed then followed your example, and left the table too.

Glances were exchanged, but this time no one knew why Wonwoo left so abruptly without saying anything.

There were moments when Mingyu wasn't preoccupied with his girlfriends and had time to spend with you. You were all for it, trying to take advantage what little time you were able to get with Mingyu.

If only Mingyu was able to keep his end of the bargain and actually spent time with you like he promised.

It was a constant cycle, and no matter how much you promised time and time again you wouldn't let him do it to you, you'd fall for it time and time again. You do it in hopes that it would be different this time, that you were important enough for him to break the cycle he unknowingly created.

This time, the promise was to take you to an art exhibit that was two towns over, over an hour's drive to the exhibit and another hour driving back. You were never able to get anyone to come with you since the drive took so long.

But, finally, Mingyu was able to go.

"When's the art exhibit?" Mingyu asked you suddenly, breaking the silence as the both of you studied for your respective classes.

You stopped working and looked at him then said, "It's on Saturday, why?"

Mingyu stopped to think for a second, then said, "I can go with you if you want,"

Breaking into a wide grin, you asked, "Really?! You'd go with me?! Even if it's an hour away from here?"

Mingyu's eyes widened as if he didn't know how far the exhibit was, as if it hasn't been the only thing you've been able to talk about. "An hour?"

You deflated at his answer, thinking that he wasn't going to go with you after finding out how long it takes to go. Noticing your reaction, Mingyu was quick to say, "I'll still go! I just wasn't expecting how long it was going to take to get there,"

You smiled again and said, "I'll wait for you on Saturday?"

He nodded and smiled at you, "I'll pick you up," he promised.

It was currently Saturday, and Mingyu was nowhere to be found. No call, no text, not even a smoke signal saying something along the lines of "I'm sorry, I was caught up with something else but I'll totally pick you up right now!".

You didn't even wait around at your apartment to see if Mingyu would pick you up, you took an Uber to his and Wonwoo's apartment. When you entered the floor of their apartment, you made a beeline to the door and knocked three times.

Waiting patiently, you heard the faint footsteps of someone approaching the door, you were face to face with Wonwoo. "He's not here," was the first thing Wonwoo said, the both of you knowing who he was.

Sighing and rolling your eyes both at Mingyu and the fact that you fell for it once more, you told him, "Why am I not surprised?"

Wonwoo eyed you before asking, "Do you want to come in?"

You hesitated for a quick second before nodding, and Wonwoo made more space for you to enter. "What did he say he'd do this time?" Wonwoo asked, closing the door behind him.

"He said he was going to come with me to the art exhibit—"

"The one an hour away?" Wonwoo asked, shocking you at how he remembered.

"You knew? Mingyu told you about it?" You questioned, but he shook his head no.

"It's the only thing you've been able to talk about since you found out about it. How would I not know about it?" He replied.

"Well, it's not like I would be able to go since it's going to be closed by the time I go and it's too expensive to Uber there so I'll just leave—" you started saying whilst turning around to leave the apartment, but Wonwoo grabbed your arm, stopping you.

"Do you want to hang out?" Wonwoo asked.

You turned to him, confused, "What are we even going to do?" you asked.

He shrugged and said,

"Wherever you want. I'll just be by your side,"

Silence fell between both you and Wonwoo as you walked aimlessly, the street you guys were on had food places that were still open and convenience stores that never closed, so there were lights everywhere despite it being nighttime.

You broke the silence by saying, "I have a question,"

Wonwoo hummed and said, "Well, I'll try the best I can to answer your question, but no promises,"

"It's about Mingyu,"

"I assumed it was going to be about him,"

"Am I stupid in thinking that my pining will result in something happening between him and me? Should I stop?"

Wonwoo stopped in the middle of the walk, making you bump into him since you were slightly behind him. You had to stop too but looked at Wonwoo to see if he'd give any indication on why he stopped.

"Do you want me to be completely honest?" He asked you.

You looked into his eyes and said, "With all the things I've been going through with Mingyu, honesty is all I have left,"

"I think that what you feel with Mingyu has enveloped your life so much that you can't separate between regular you and you with feelings for Mingyu. You've entangled yourself with Mingyu too much and you need to find yourself before anything else," Wonwoo bluntly told you.

"Okay, one, ouch. And two, that didn't answer my question," you said.

"I can't tell you whether or not you should stop, that should be something that you should decide without anyone interfering," he advised you.

"But how am I supposed to decide when I don't know what to even think?" you whined.

Wonwoo stared at you for a moment before saying, "Close your eyes,"

"What? Why?"

"I'm going to do something but you're going to have to put full trust in me,"

"That doesn't tell me anything, Won,"

"Do you trust me?"

"Yeah, wholeheartedly,"

"Then close your eyes," he instructed.

You closed your eyes eventually, seeing as the worst thing he could do was leave you on the road. But you still felt his presence around you, so you figured you were somewhat safe.

"I'm going to ask you a question and you can't think about it, just say the first thing that comes out of your head. Okay?"

"What—"

"Out of all our friends, who is the worst and best drunk?"

"Soonyoung for both. He cannot maintain his alcohol which makes him good and bad,"

"Where's the next place you want to travel to?"

"Home, I just want to see my parents,"

"What do you want to eat right now?"

"Ice cream,"

"Can you see yourself being with Mingyu for the rest of your life?"\

"No."

It was as if freezing water was poured onto you when you realized what you just said.

"Woah,"

"Yeah, woah."

taglist: @belladaises @winterpaos @minhui896 @baekhyunimochibbh @x-alightinthedark @whywontyousetfree @coffeesandrains @slaveofmydreams @bmkgemz @dandycharmer @outrologist @stagefrjghts @dahliatopia @exo-saranghajaaa @uhlatcha @watermelon-sugars-things @miniminimingi @venzline @withloveyjh @lockburn-castle @userjunhuii @mypsychicpizzaworld @violetvoo @maevadobreva @soonyoungblr @baekhyunstruly @ryusol @dunixxd @minhwa @ovai @scorpiobitch88 @icyminghao @cookiehaos @duskunt1ldawn

[glassrowboat]

Red Ribbon. Chiori.

Summary: A not so peaceful morning with your girlfriend. Well, not when you're up to mischief anyway.

Word count: 900+

The small shop was always such a cozy place to huddle up in, the one specific chair that had been covered in loose scraps of cut out fabric currently occupied with your figure as you fiddle with a spool of something or another. Pretty red ribbon right under your fingers as Chiori slowly walks around the pinup body adorned with a dress.

The click of those overly complicated heels filled the room as you watched Chiori circle around the mannequin in the center of the room, its fabric body adorned in layers of cloth. Another commision she was working on no doubt as she snipped a loose thread. Precise as possible, that is until she tries to toss it over at you.

The string falling on the ground between you two. Apparently it was your fault you had become her designated place to pile scraps after you took the chair she would usually use for such a task. Red ribbon being wrapped around your finger and undone again and again mindlessly as you watched her.

“Now where did I put that?” Talking to herself again, a habit she would never openly admit to, Chiori pat down the apron she had on that held her tools. “(Y/n) have you seen-”

“This?” Holding up the spool of ribbon you had been playing with a smile easily crossed your features, even as her eyes narrowed. “No, I haven't.”

“Then you have no issue giving it to me.” Walking over to you Chiori tried to snatch the item in your hand, her sleeves rustling from the action as they flowed behind her. You never got how those kimono sleeves didn't get in her way all the time but she always pulled it off somehow. Good for her.

That however wasn't enough of a reason to give in as you climbed up further on the chair, feet pushing against the cushion as you stood up from your curled up position, knees no longer pushed up against your chest as you held her prize high in the air.

Hopefully she doesn't deem this offense enough of one to use her visions abilities. Stupid teleportation abilities.

“If I recall correctly, taking possession of another's items could be considered a crime. Would you truly really want me to take you to court over this, (Y/n)?” A flick of her dress, those same sleeves billowing in the wind as she crossed her arms. Oh she was so cute when she tried to look mad.

Deciding to play along you held the ribbon up higher, making sure it was above even your head. “Well, when I go down to the Fortress of Meropide should I come back with a fit rate of the Guards uniforms?”

Wait, is she actually considering it? Head tilting, pretty brown hair shifting over her shoulder as Chiori stood in silence before softly shaking the thought off. “Just give me the ribbon back.”

Huh, this must be for a commission if she's being such a little stickler. Not that that would lessen your need for a bit of mischief. As they say, breaks are healthy. “How about a deal?”

“A deal for my own possessions?”

What's a synonym for stickler again? Hypercritic, perfectionist, nitpicker.

“Don't make it sound like that.” Even if it is true. “Come on pretty, a kiss is all I want and then I'll give it back. Please?”

A small sigh could be heard as she glanced back between her prize and you. Red ribbon tickling at your wrist as the spool unwound from your earlier actions. A standoff is currently happening in Fontaine's very own Chioriya Boutique. At least there's no guns involved, just a miffed geo vision haver and her lover.

“You make such a big deal over a kiss?” She asked, brows furrowing as she looked up at you. “Next time just ask instead of acting like this.”

But where's the fun in that?

“Well?”

Leaning down just enough so she could get on the tip of her toes, or more like those heels, you pucker your lips to try and coax her into giving what you wanted.

Oh that heavy sigh. Yet there her pretty face was coming in closer. The details of Chiori's eyeshadow clear to you, the pretty light tint of powder as her eyelashes fluttered closed. “Fine.” And with that she kissed you.

The rich, heavy taste of coffee from Cafe Letece you had gotten for her earlier filling your senses. She had always been so insistent the run there was better than opening some random can she had imported over from Inazuma despite the fact she went through all the effort to have Kirara deliver it in the first place. Perhaps it was the fact she was so selective when she wanted the taste of home.

Well, the taste of your home was her as Chiori slowly pulled away. Her soft lips abandoning yours as the spool was snatched from her hand, robbed right under your fingers as the cardboard that it was wrapped around was replaced for air. Not even the sticker smacked on top labeling the thing for sale you had been picking at earlier was clinging onto your skin.

How rude.

“Beautiful,” you cried out as you hopped off the arm chair, stumbling over the floor as you landed, trying to chase after her in the small shop. “Wait, wait! Come back I want another!”

“Then it seems you'll have to find more ribbon to bargain with.”

Ignoring you Chiori went back to the pin up mannequin in the center of the room, holding up a strip of the ribbon to the sleeves of the dress as she pinned it in place with small metal needles.

Well…that's your girl alright.

“Love you, my pretty.”