#the way his words contradict his own actions is always endearing to me

[rooftopdaigos]

feeling so dumb over iw ch12 discourse. How exactly ppl see kiryu if this is ooc to them

[shizunitis]

I think half of this fandom got wife-beamed by Shen Yuan, any comments on this tumblr user Shizunitis?

i acknowledge no such events, myself. i don’t need some narrative device or convenient trope or genre convention or whatever to fall in love with shizun. i’m sure there are people out there whose affections needed some prompting or a helping had to get going, but. like. couldn’t be me.

it’s not about the wife beam. it’s not even about what i want from shizun, or in what light i see him, or what he’s done for me, or any of that. it’s the very core of him, the tangle of contradictions and avoidant, endearing paths he takes in his navigation of the world around him, how he clings to it and the people around while adamantly claiming he isn’t.

he fucks up, and he’s snarky, and he’s a bit out of pocket at times, and that’s the most endearing part of him. the acting and the self-reprobations and his own wisdom, which he always overlooks or bats away, and the fumbling and the way every one of his action betrays just how easily his mask can crumble the more he’s made to fight for what he cares for, and how at the end of the day between his own pride and the love guiding his every action, it’s always the pride that he discards first.

also, he’s got a case of rejection sensitivity that would, and does, put both binghe’s and mine to shame.

a wife beam is, in itself, a… filter? i’m not sure how to put it, but a wife beam is too… inauthentic. as the reader hitching a ride in shizun’s brain (which thinking about makes me feel faint and like i’m about to burst with joy and entirely not normal about the whole thing) it’s kind of… impossible, i wanna say, to be fooled by its effects in any meaningful way.

it’s like putting on glasses just a bit different from your own prescription (guess who’s sleep deprived and doesn’t know how to put words together again. you get no prize and you have to feel sorry for me)—the shapes are there, but the exact definition of what you see is not right. the “wife beam” is not doing justice to shizun’s true self.

shizun is shizun. shen yuan or shen yuan as shen qingqiu, whichever, it’s the core of him that matters, and the wife beam makes him seem too… ideal. too untouchable. it’s like cling film. bothersome and unhelpful outside very specific circumstances and we all know shizun doesn’t belong in the kitchen. where he belongs is for me to think about while laying on the floor at 10am on a friday.

or, put in another, more obnoxious way:

this here is a naturally occuring phenomenon; every binghe loves every shizun, and i’m not about to betray the cause or turn away from my nature.

rate this for coherence i give it a solid 6.5 right now. i did a great job, considering.

[sxtaep]

holding hands while riding namjoon? idk im just hjorny rn 😭

well, i’m glad i could be of assistance, anon <3

pairing: namjoon x female reader

warnings: softdom!joon, sub!reader, explicit smut, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, crying, kinda soft, rough fucking, i can’t tell if he’s trying to punish her or naw..

“Need me to love you, need me to protect you, need me to fuck you,” Namjoon seethes, hands resting on the small of your back as he enunciated each point with a harsh thrust into you.

You were in tears on top of him, riding him out like your life depended on it whilst his cock evasively split you open; just the way you liked it.

He was never normally this rough with you, opting to go slow and easy every time you both decided to get intimate. His soft side during sex was something you cherished so much; it made you feel safe in his arms.

But that was until now.

You chose to disrupt one of his super important zoom interviews with your desperation; twirling his hair around your fingers to which the interviewer could clearly see. Namjoon would try to brush you off, silently telling you that he’d be with you shortly, but you didn’t budge.

And that went on for the rest of the hour. You bothered him to the point where he was tired of your shit, slamming the laptop shut after ending the call and dragging you into your shared bedroom.

Which is where you are now.

Looking down at him, you could tell he was pissed, but you couldn’t let the desperation inside of you eat you out alive. You did the right thing seeing as he was giving you exactly what you wanted.

“Don’t fucking cry. Isn’t this what you wanted?” His tone of voice was harsh and his hips slammed into you with such brute force, it felt like he was fucking the cries out of you.

“Yes, yes—!” you cry again, your fingers digging into the skin of his shoulder which caused him to wince.

You were such a good girl. Never having been fucked like this, you were taking him like a champ.

It warmed his heart in the most fucked up way possible.

Namjoon yanked your hand off his shoulder, instead intertwining his hand in yours to give you that little sense of care and security you were always used to.

“Need me to hold your hand while I fuck you as well, huh?” His tone was seemingly trying to mock you, belittle you in some sense, but you weren’t a pussy.

You could take a rough fuck when necessary.

Whether he held your hand or not, you trusted the man with your whole life.

“You’re so cute..”

You don’t hear him, the sounds of skin slapping and your whimpers drowning out his endearing words.

He set his free hand over your hips, forcing you to slam down on his cock and revelling in the way your walls clenched around him.

“Too much..” you say breathlessly, but your actions were contradicting your own words as you continued to fuck yourself on top of him without his assistance.

“You’re so greedy, Y/N,” the man tsks, shaking his head like he was disappointed but he was far from it.

You were everything he could ask for, and more.

[littlemisspascal]

Ezra’s Journal Entries #1-3

Fandom: Prospect / Pedro Pascal

Pairing: Ezra x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1,269

Summary: You and I were made from the same star, you said with such conviction it stole the breath from my lungs, bound to each other for eternity by the Currents of the universe. 

Warnings: angsty fluff, Ezra’s dealing with the aftermath of the Green, language, 1st person POV (Ezra), dialogue in italics because that’s just how I chose to do it, no beta so all mistakes are mine

Author Note: I know I said Death and Angel would come out next, but I got such a inspiration high and the words came out so quickly I just told myself screw it and decided to share what I have. If anyone thinks this is a series worth pursuing, let me know. If you don’t, well, just be gentle please 💖

Cross-posted on AO3

Entries #4-6

Look for additional notes at the bottom.

My name is Ezra. 

I have my mama to thank for that. Time has erased her face from my memory, but her voice is ingrained into the tissue of my brain the same way these words are inked on this parchment. She was a bonafide believer that the meaning of a child’s name influenced the course of their destiny. When I was no taller than the height of her waist I learned my own name’s denotation: help.

It’s just a tick too ironic, isn’t it? To be destined to help others when I can’t help my own self. I gave the Green far too little credit. It didn’t just pilfer my arm to satisfy its ravenousness, it greedily stole my sense of purpose too. 

Every night I thank the deities you didn’t accompany me there. If the Green had taken you...

I know how worried you are about me, little love of mine. When I look at you, I find you already looking back, a sweet smile gracing your lips even as concern burns in your eyes as an eternal flame. From day one you’ve always been looking at me, seeing every disgraced flaw and scar—even the invisible ones carved into the darkest edges of my soul. Kevva knows I’ve never been capable of concealing anything from you, but fuck if I don’t wish I could sometimes.

You’re asleep now as I write this, tucked against my side in the vacant space my arm once occupied, drooling on my shirt. I love you so much it hurts. A black hole in my chest perpetually aching to be filled by your presence. And as we venture once more into the starry sea, our ship gliding past the imaginary wings of Noctua, I find myself recalling a theory you once told me many cycles ago about humans being made in the womb with stardust infused in their bones, linking them to the universe. You and I were made from the same star, you said with such conviction it stole the breath from my lungs, bound to each other for eternity by the Currents of the universe. 

And it’s undoubtedly selfish, but all I could think of in that tender moment beyond kissing you was how I didn’t want an eternity spent together with our cosmic bodies intertwined. 

I want longer.

Soon after we awoke and each consumed a slice of bush bread bought during our recent docking at Kamrea, you fiddled with the channels on the ship’s radio, hoping to hear news from your homeworld but cursing when you only heard static. Then, without an ounce of forewarning, music burst out with an almighty scream through the speakers at full volume, flooding the whole compartment with a woman’s warbling. It was the same crusted Vayok song that merc Inumon blared in my ears during my last night on the Green, every note an individual needle piercing my skull, impossible to ignore.

Reality deserted me, leaving me to sink to the depths of the abyss within my mind where all I could see was Cee’s pale, disturbed expression as she looked to me for guidance. I remembered how my tongue felt clumsy in my mouth as I tried my damnedest to negotiate our transport, thinking if I could just piece together the right sequence of words, if I could just get their lingering eyes off of her, then maybe, maybe we’d have a chance at salvation. 

The memories coalesced, overlapping and blurring and mixing out of order. Each one was drenched in spilt blood.

Then your pinky wrapped around mine. The touch was soft yet firm, the action childlike in its innocence. It was such a jarring contradiction to my mind’s violent narrative, my consciousness was hurtled back into the living quarters of our ship as a result. You didn’t say anything when you saw I returned to you. Instead, you swallowed down the questions lodged in your throat and led me by our entwined fingers back to our bed.

There’s a plant back home called a dandelion, you told me with my head resting in your lap, a far better comfort than any pillow could provide me. It’s the only plant in the galaxy you can see the sun, the moon and the stars when you look at it. That’s not why it’s my favorite though.

I asked how it had won your heart’s favor if not due to its resemblance to the celestial bodies, then immediately found myself mesmerized by the smile that lit up your face as you peered down at me. My chest cavity tightened as I was filled with the profound longing to be able to suspend time, if only so I could stretch this moment to match the length of our separation, if only so I could erase the old and replace it with the beautiful new.

Dandelions grant wishes, babe. Anything you wish for with your whole heart, it will be yours to have.

I told you I wouldn’t wish for anything—nothing else in the galaxy could compare to the prettiest, wisest soul I’d ever encountered in all my years traversing it. You saw right through that lie with the same confident ease you see through all my masks and diversions, but—for the second time in the span of an hour—you held your tongue.

This journal’s as good a place as any to admit the honest truth. So here it is: I wish with the entirety of my bloody, beating heart I could be the man you deserve, little love of mine. 

When you read, whether it be a book or the flight manual, you have the precious habit of mouthing the words. I don’t think you have the faintest notion you’re even doing it, which makes it all the more endearing to watch.

My brother had a similar habit, always nose deep in the yellowing pages of classic literature, except he had a proclivity to spoil the plot when he talked in his sleep. I remember there was one particular novel he returned to often, sometimes reading from beginning to end, other times seeking out specific segments he’d underlined in bold, black pen. It was a rather dreary tale about war and rivalry and the process of determining one’s own identity. I became so exasperated with my brother’s obsession I considered shredding it on more than one occasion, only to immediately hate myself for entertaining the thought.

It was only after his death—twelve whole cycles, in fact—that I summoned up the will to open the front cover. Seeing his name scribbled in the corner, cursive and neat and so utterly him, nearly had me tearing the book in half, overcome with a vicious rage I had never known prior nor have I encountered since. But by the almighty grace of Kevva I reigned it in, chaining it to the agony and fear imprisoned within the confines of my rib cage, and turned the page.

There was one segment underlined not once, but three times, nearly bleeding ink onto the page behind it. When I close my eyes, the words are tattooed on the backs of my eyelids, as haunting as they are comforting.

So the more things remained the same, the more they changed after all. Nothing endures. Not love, not a tree, not even a death by violence.

The author lived and died centuries before my brother’s inception, that is an inarguable fact. 

But I know those words were written for him all the same. 

Notes: 

There is an actual theory humans are made of stardust ✨

The Sater within Prospect mention the Currents as being responsible for bringing Ezra and Cee to them, so I imagine them as similar to the Fates/Moirai in Greek mythology.

Noctua is a real life, extinct constellation that is Latin for owl. I thought within this Prospect universe it could exist as a type of landmark or coordinate. Plus I love owls 🦉

Crusted is a term from Prospect Ezra uses. Equivalent of damn. I think there’s something funny about how they use creamy as a positive adjective and crusted as negative.

Vayok is the alien language Inumon speaks within the movie, so I decided to write the song she blares as being sung in the same language

Bush bread is referenced in a deleted scene by Ezra, but a google search revealed to me it’s also a real life type of bread too

In the same deleted scene Ezra references that he has a brother. I haven’t decided his name yet/if he will have one

The book and quote Ezra refers to in #3 is John Knowles’ A Separate Peace. One of the few required reading books I liked back in high school.

The quote about dandelions being the sun, moon and stars is based on the legend of how dandelions came into existence. I always thought it was beautiful.

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[captnjacksparrow]

Hi. I am the anon from earlier.

Teasing in the sense, even when Sasuke meets Naruto at Orochimaru's hideout, that scene itself is quite unsettling. But Sasuke teases him, asking why he was there when he should be training. And is amused by Naruto's answer, he goes pfft (hahaha, like what?) I get these femme fatale vibes from Sasuke in that scene. Then later, when they meet again, Sasuke asks him he know his heart and vice versa and then says, Right Naruto? Very teasy. Even later in the war arc, Sasuke and Naruto both tease each other. Especially when they are trapped inside Susanno during Tsukuyomi. Sasuke implies that Naruto and Sasuke's lives are more important than others ( dissing Sakura and Kakashi) and then says to Naruto, you know what I am saying, don't you? And Naruto teases, just like him, saying his body also moves on its own.

Like I said, they both have inside jokes type stuff. Which I find quite intimate because they literally act differently around each other as compared how they act around others.

And I especially find it quite endearing because Sasuke comes off as more human in these instances and not a robot bent on destroying the world.

Hello, Anon😍😍😍😍. So, that’s what you mean by teasing.

All these scenes you have mentioned, the way I see it was always as some different forms of 

Obsession??!!

Maybe....... Sasuke was teasing. But it was not Naruto. He was teasing, us, the viewers. Throughout Shippuden, we all noticed Naruto’s blatant obsession towards Sasuke. Sasuke’s side is very subtle but noticeable.

And Ofcourse, Sasuke's obsession always generate a certain tension between them which looks very intimate sometimes.

Sasuke meets Naruto at Orochimaru's hideout, that scene itself is quite unsettling. But Sasuke teases him, asking why he was there when he should be training. And is amused by Naruto's answer, he goes pfft (hahaha, like what?) I get these femme fatale vibes from Sasuke in that scene.

Just like every time, Sasuke's actions contradicts his own words, only in the case of Naruto (I repeat, it’s just actions..... In case of Sakura, both his actions and words were similar). The more he denies, the more he acts up. And most of the times his actions always surprises the viewers.

Just before they meet in the Orochimaru hideout, when Sai was introducing himself, Sasuke was thoroughly not interested or even annoyed by his presence and bluntly told, 'Get lost'. But the moment, Sai started to speak about Naruto, Sasuke started to pay attention to him and Orochimaru, Kabuto definitely notice this.

And later, he casually says, 'Oh, there was a guy like that?'. At this point, even I felt Sasuke changed.

But then, the moment he met Naruto, he just acted out completely contrary to what he said before. He was teasing the audience for sure, but with Naruto, I see this as an obsession to get close with Naruto, probably because he was seeing someone who was once close to him after 2.5 years, and wanted to say ‘Hi, what are you doing here? You want to become Hokage and why care about me at all?. Anyways, I am going to kill you like last time’. 

Naruto always looks complicated because he knew Sasuke cares about him atleast a little bit and was wondering ‘Still, Why are you doing this?’. 

For us viewers, am sure Sasuke's sensual approach makes our skin crawling. A snake-ish femme fatale vibe, maybe?? I think kishi did it deliberately for that very purpose to tease the readers 'What has Sasuke become? Why is he doing this!??'.

Apart from these, Naruto does know one thing for sure about him. That Sasuke doesn’t give a damn about anyone in Konoha other than him.

How did he know?

From the VoTE1 battle. Sasuke made himself clear, he was done with Konoha and all the comrades. But when Naruto asked him, ‘Am I nothing to you, don’t you consider me your comrade?’. To which Sasuke says, ‘You became my closest friend’. He even acknowledge that their bond existed back when they were kids.  

Especially when they are trapped inside Susanno during Tsukuyomi. Sasuke implies that Naruto and Sasuke's lives are more important than others ( dissing Sakura and Kakashi) and then says to Naruto, you know what I am saying, don't you? And Naruto teases, just like him, saying his body also moves on its own.

Again, this is another scene which shows his Obsession towards saving Naruto. 

Sasuke is literally telling him, ‘Kakashi and Sakura are useless, why bother saving?’

It’s not just with Sakura and Kakashi. It’s just with everyone throughout the war.

I found the following scene to be interesting and logical.

Here, Naruto was worked up because he lost Obito and here Sasuke was again asking him to ditch Obito and come with him, which is logical. Not everyone can empathize and cry like a baby in a battlefield. Someone has to be reasonable.

Basically I think it’s part of his character. He always stays focused, calculative and perceptive about everything happening around and takes the best course of action even at the expense of losing people EXCEPT for NARUTO which was evident from the way he wanted to save only Jugo and Naruto.

It’s kind of ‘I don’t care about whatever things you care about, but I do care about you’. I think this is kind of a mild Obsession.

It’s exactly because of that Obsession, Sasuke snapped out after hearing about Itachi’s true motivations behind the massacre. ‘I don’t care about whatever Itachi cared about (Konoha) but I do care about Itachi a lot and that’s why I am going to destroy Konoha’. 

According to Sasuke, these very obsession is kind of a weakness for him which influences his decision a lot. Because Itachi and Naruto are the only people who can influence Sasuke’s heart and he doesn’t want anyone to affect his heart. Itachi was dead already. Only Naruto remains. And Naruto being emotionally perceptive, he somehow knows that he is Sasuke’s weakness just like Sasuke knows that he is Naruto’s strength.

That’s why Naruto looks complicated when Sasuke asked, ‘I know your heart, you know mine. Right, Naruto?’. Naruto knows, Sasuke knows. But we, audience don’t know, unless we pay close attention to the hints. 

In Boruto, however, I don’t find anything special. Except for this one.

This proves one thing. These guys have been keeping up with these childish contests for a very long time, through the Letters or Texts, I don’t know which one. But somehow, it appears Sasuke is very interested to play rivalry contest with Naruto through letters than writing one for his ‘beloved’ wife and daughter. Funny. LOL.

It is because of that Obsession and Love, like you said, Sasuke doesn’t appear like an emotionless machine but more like a lovable boy who was lost in darkness. 

[animatedminds]

Star Wars: Visions - Episode 7: The Elder

Onward into the last trio of Visions episodes! This has been nothing but enjoyable thus far, and I’ve heard good things about these last three. Episode 7: The Elder Produced By: Trigger Inc. Directed By: Masahiko Otsuka After six episodes, we finally have one that definitively takes place in the Republic era. I’ve been regarding these shorts’ indeterminate time periods as I see them, but with a bit of misfiring: the one I thought worked perfectly in the post-ROTJ era turned out to take place far in the past (and in an alternate take on the series), and the one I thought would have worked well as an Old Republic piece turned out to be intended as a far-flung sequel. But this time, we’ve got a relatively solid timeframe established in the short itself. Some time during the time of the Galactic Republic, two Jedi - a master and his padawan - patrol the Outer Rim when they are suddenly distracted by a sudden flare-up in the Force: a call to something dark and unknown. Arriving on a backwater planet, they track this disturbance to a mysterious old man who traveled into the mountains recently. But something seems wrong, and the more they investigate the more it they find ties from this old man to the thought long-dead Sith, as well as hints that the whole encounter might just be a trap...

This is another “Jedi arrives at a simple village, and is forced into a battle with a darksider“ story - unsurprising, when narratives like that are so popular, and each of the short films were made independently of one another. This time, much more attention is placed on the darksider themselves. The setting of this one illustrates its tension: this is a time period before The Phantom Menace where the Sith were believed extinct, so sudden clues to imply they may still be around are unbelievable and deeply unnerving to the main characters - and this slow unsettled atmosphere composes the center of the short. In the end, the heroes defeat the villain, but obtain no answers - as they must not, for the Sith won’t reveal themselves for some time - and the story ends with them moving on, unsure.

The master and apprentice are fun characters. Not quite as developed as some of the other characters we’ve seen thus far, but they do have a fairly fun banter to them. It’s a trend that masters and apprentices end up countering each other in personality to a degree in Star Wars - wilder masters beget more serious padawans, and vice versa - and it continues here: the master being a dour, cautious and somewhat paranoid sort, whereas the padawan is emotionally expressive, lacking in worry and ever-direct in his words and actions. You can tell that they are wildly unprepared for what they are about to walk into - even the master, who is knowledgeable and powerful enough to face it regardless - and that endears them to the audience as the story goes on.

The antagonist is is the biggest draw, however. A murderous swordsman type: obsessed with nothing but the fight and proving his skills in battle by luring hapless opponents into battles to the death. It’s a character type that’s fairly common in samurai narratives, and thus one which I’ve always been surprised to see so little off in Star Wars media. Eschewing most of the Sith ideology, the Elder only cares about bigger and bigger challenges, deadlier and deadlier stakes. He is introduced having massacred a giant monster, and ends gleefully throwing himself into a fight with someone he knows may be his better, murdering and manipulating all the way to ensure that the fight happens. And the fight itself reminded me somewhat of the fights from the Filoni series, particularly the Obi-Wan and Maul fight in Rebels where the visual direction was all about getting more out of less. The motions are less elaborate, but are instead quick and deadly, which ups the impact. The Sith having a pair of light-shortswords made espeiclaly for an interesting fight - digressing again, but I’ve always felt branching out into different kinds of lightsaber weaponry would allow the series to evolve the swordsmanship aspect of the Jedi and other force users a bit more. The idea of giving Rey a light-pike, for instance, was one that got a lot of traction for a while and one I wish the films had adopted. There’s a degree of baby steps in regards to how versatile the Jedi can be that the main series tends to adhere to whereas these short films in general have not felt constrained by - whereas the light-weedwhacker of The Duel is obviously a bit excessive, the idea of shortswords or longswords for Jedi, or other varieties of bladed weapons, is something imo the series could well look into. If there was one thing that felt off about his one, on the other hand, it was the animation as a whole. It isn’t something I’m unfamiliar with, watching anime as much as I do you’re sure to find a few series that do the same thing, but it may be a bit jarring to go from the previous short films - which were very fluid and expressive in animation - to this one, which is a lot more stiff. Everything is very intricately and elaborately drawn - with deeply etched character designs and vivid backgrounds - but very limited in animation, with less physical emotion and range. A curious choice, given how Trigger’s other film - The Twins - in this set was the complete opposite: extremely animated in all respects. Characters mostly just move their lips and incline their heads, until the fight starts - and the fight itself is, again, an example of getting more out of less. There are thus times in the short where the shot almost appears to be static for long periods of time. This is, once more, a stylistic choice which I am not unfamiliar with, but I’m not as sure that it affords well to the film’s story. But it does have the effect of also drawing attention to the antagonist - The Elder himself is by far the most vividly animated character in the story, and it makes him and his menace fly off the screen in comparison. All in all, a good episode. But that’s not the only thing we’re here to look at. As you’ve probably cottoned onto by now if you’ve been reading all of these, the Visions shorts are all currently non-canon. However, in a franchise like Star Wars it is not uncommon for installments like this to get examined for official continuance if they have a lot of support from us, the fans, and - importantly - if they fit well into the universe. So here, we’re also looking at whether each short fits into the universe, and how well. And what are the chances of this one fitting into the universe? Pretty Good Odds. This short was careful to design itself such that it could easily fit into the time period it takes place in: another backwater planet with a sheltered culture, making it unlikely to contradict anything, two remote Jedi with a far flung assignment also unlikely to contradict anything, and the characteristics of the setting are actually baked into the plot: the Jedi of this time have no idea extant Sith still exist, and thus are left stymied by the mystery this Elder presents. In the end, they obtain no answers, either: only smoke and ambiguity of a lost lead. So I could easily see this being popped right into the continuity with no hassle to anyone. And it would definitely be interesting to see: did the Elder really leave the Sith to pursue his own bloodlust. If so... that was his history? If this short accomplishes one thing, it’s delivering on the mystique surrounding the SIth. Not to mention giving the world a few more nightmare faces to dream about - nobody in the Star Wars universe is scarier than a Sith on the prowl...

[kuroopaisen]

03:22 am || sugawara koushi

➵ existentialism doesn’t have to be depressing.

wc: 2292

warnings: gn!reader, philosophical talk (I’m so sorry), existentialism

a/n: sorry for rambling so much about existentialism dslfk i was doing my best to get into the 3am mindset

The stars aren’t particularly bright, but you’re grateful that you can even catch a glimpse of them. Your apartment’s balcony is only small, and you can only see so much unobstructed sky. What you can see of the constellations are bleached by the city lights, but that hasn’t dampened either yours or Suga’s desire to stargaze. The two of you cuddle up on a dingy banged-up couch, barely big enough to fit both of you. Not that either of you care.

Suga seemed particularly unphased, littering quick kisses across the side of your face.

“Koushi,” you chuckle, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Hm?” A peck to your cheek.

“Are you quite alright?”

“I’m just peachy.” A kiss to your temple.

“Do you want something?” You giggle, turning your head to look at him straight.

“Nothing,” he beams, pressing his lips to your nose.

You grin, kissing his own nose in response.

You take a moment to admire him, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek. 

He looks a bit like starlight personified, all silver hair and round, bright eyes. He’s got one of those smiles that lights up his whole face, crinkling his eyes in the most endearing way.

Those kind eyes of his were one of the things that had drawn you to him at first. Initially, your intentions had been purely platonic. But how weren’t you supposed to fall in love with this boy made of starlight?

“What’re you thinking about?” You ask, smoothing a thumb over his cheek. He smiles at you, those beautiful eyes of his touched with a hint of melancholy.

“Nothing.”

“You’re thinking about something,” you smile. “You’ve got that look in your eyes.”

His eyes are kind, warm, gentle. But they’re perhaps a bit more expressive than he’d like.

Suga grins, shaking his head. “I was a fool to think I’d get anything by you, huh?”

“Good to see you’re learning your lesson,” you tease. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “I’m just… thinking about the inherent meaninglessness of life.”

You snort, but you’re not surprised. This isn’t unusual for him. “That doesn’t sound like ‘alright’.”

“Oh, but it is,” Suga grins, looking you directly in the eyes. “It’s great.”

“Why?”

“I get to do whatever I want,” Suga shrugs. “It doesn’t matter if there’s no greater meaning to any of it. I get to live my life in a way that makes me happy.”

“What makes you happy, then?” You ask, smoothing the top of his head.

“You,” he fires back immediately, a cheeky grin on his lips.

“That’s a cop-out,” you snort, poking his nose.

“I just…” He sighs, turning his gaze back to the faint stars. “I just want to do right by the people around me.”

“That’s wonderful,” you smile. There’s such beautiful sincerity in his eyes.

“It sounds cheesy,” Suga scoffs, his cheeks tinged pink.

“So?” You ask.

His blush deepens as he meets your eyes. “Well… you know…”

You’re well-aware of what the concern is, but you’ve decided to mark it down as ‘silly.’

“If you’re going to be a nihilist, you may as well be nice about it,” you shrug. “Nothing’s worse than being an asshole who’s rude to people because ‘life is meaningless’ and ‘humans are just base animals’ or whatever.”

Suga chuckles at your rather accurate impression of a man in a first-year philosophy degree.

“Just don’t start quoting Nietzsche at me,” you grin.  

“I would never,” Suga scoffs. “It’s gotta be Kierkegaard.”

“Wasn’t he just… really sad?” You ask, tilting your head at him.

“He hated democracy.”

“He did?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

Suga shrugs. “I dunno. I just know he did.”

You giggle, shaking your head. “Good to see you’ve been paying attention in class.”

“Look,” Suga raises a hand, “I found that out when I was just scouring the net, okay?”

“Mhm…”

“Philosophy is supposed to make you think about life, not some guy’s opinion on democracy, okay?” Suga grins.

“You have to write a dialogue, right?” You ask. You remember him telling you about it, but you can’t quite recall what he’s actually supposed to do.

He nods. “Yeah.”

“Are you arguing with Nietzsche?”

He laughs. “Not sure yet.”

“I think you should,” you hum. “I’d laugh.”

“I can’t believe my assignment is basically me writing fanfiction about me and Diogenes hanging out,” he grins.

“Actually yeah, write about him,” you snort. “I, too, would like to find an honest man.”

Suga chuckles. “Unfortunately, that’s not gonna help me get a good mark.”

“You’re going to get a good mark,” you say, pouting at him. “You always do.”

“Bold of you to put that much confidence in me,” he scoffs. “I haven’t even started writing it yet.”

“Have you planned it out?”

“Kind of?”

“Well, what’s your key argument?” You ask. You enjoy talking to him like this; unpicking his brain, finding out what he thought about the world. He always had something interesting to say, a thought to share about life in general.

 “I mean…” Suga sighs. “I always sorta figured that if life doesn’t inherently mean anything, then we’ve got a choice, right?”

“A choice?” 

“Yeah.” 

“What do you mean?” You shift yourself in his lap, your legs now dangling over the armrest. 

Suga pauses, pressing his lips together for a moment. “Well… you’re not morally beholden to anyone, right?” 

“Uh huh…” You nod slowly. 

“So… why wouldn’t you want to choose to do the kind thing? It’s not hard.”

You bite your lip. “But if you’re not ‘morally beholden’ to anyone, then what’s the point of being kind?” 

“You know… it’s the decent thing to do.” He raises an eyebrow at you. “And it feels good.” 

“But why?” 

“Do you disagree with me?” 

“No,” you laugh, shaking your head. “I’m just trying to help you solidify your argument.” 

“Ah, playing devil’s advocate, I see,” he grins. 

You flick him in the forehead gently. “How dare you.” 

“I’m just waiting for you to destroy me with facts and logic,” he teases, grinning at you. His eyes are much brighter now, twinkling with mirth. 

“Well,” you smile, running your fingers through his hair. “Presuming I did destroy you with facts and logic, then what would you say in response?” 

“Okay,” Suga sits up a little straighter, a determined glint in his eyes. “You know the whole ‘existence precedes essence’ thing, right?” 

“Kind of?” 

“Well, the basic principle is that we exist before anything else,” he begins. “That sounds obvious, but what it’s trying to get at is that our consciousness exists before anything else. There is no ‘essential nature’ to any of us.” 

“Right,” you nod. 

“So, we create our own values, our own meanings, because we don’t have any inherently,” he continues. “We have to make them ourselves, and that’s how we give our existence significance.” 

You hum in response. 

“A lot of people get kind of down if they believe there’s no inherent meaning to life, but that just means there so much more freedom. And there’s power in that freedom.” 

“What do you mean, exactly?” You ask. You’ve had these sorts of conversations before, but he’s been getting better and better at articulating himself. If anything, he seems relieved by it. 

“The essential meaninglessness of life isn’t a burden, it’s a chance to define ourselves and where we want to go,” he continues. 

“Mhm,” you nod, paying him the attention he deserves. 

“We may be meaningless in the grand scheme of the universe, but that means we’re free.” 

“How so?” You ask. 

He considers your question for a moment, a tiny pout on his lips. “We’re not inherently ‘good,’ but we’re not inherently ‘selfish’ either. We get to choose.” 

“Right,” you nod. “But… won’t some people find that overwhelming?”

“What do you mean?” He asks. 

“Isn’t that just the whole absurdity thing?” You’re trying to find the right words, to call on all the concepts you remember him telling you about. You may be no philosophy student, but you know Suga won’t judge. “You know, the… the contradiction between finding meaning and purpose in an inherently chaotic and meaningless world?” 

“Oh, right,” he nods. “Well… the absurd itself isn’t the problem, per se. If anything, one of the best things you can do is to accept that absurdity, even if it’s difficult.” 

“Yes, life is absurd,” he stresses. “Yes, it can be hard to find the motivation to press on when you feel that life is meaningless.” 

You wonder, for a moment, if he’s speaking from experience. 

“The idea is that you live on in-spite of that,” he smiles. “It’s like a big middle finger to a universe that doesn’t care about you.” 

“So… by deciding what matters to you is a way of biting back at a world that doesn’t care?” 

“Exactly!” He beams. “Freedom means we create our own meanings, and can find satisfaction in our lives by figuring out what we really want and how we feel we should live best,” he continues. “And it means that instead of having to worry about our ‘inherent, essential goodness’, we get to define ourselves by our actions -- people can claim that humans are inherently selfish, but we’re not.” 

He’s glowing now, eyes shining and cheeks bright. He really is beautiful. And good. So, so good. 

“Because neither behaviour is encoded in us, we’re responsible for the choices we make. We choose to be cruel, or we choose to be kind. We can choose to be good.” 

“And you think most people would do that?” You ask. 

“I’m not naive,” he sighs, “but I do think most people would want to do right by others. Not all. But most.” 

He takes a deep breath, looking to the sky once more. You follow his gaze upwards. 

“I just…” His voice is quiet now, almost as if he’s praying. “We’re all thrown into this absurd world, and we can make it easier for one another.” 

You press a gentle kiss to his temple, your heart feeling fuzzier than ever. 

Suga looks at you with the gentlest smile, a bright spark in his eyes. “We can bear the burden of the human condition together and show each other compassion.”

You run a hand through his hair, massaging his scalp with the tips of your fingers. 

He closes his eyes and leans into your touch, still smiling. “And the way I see it… if there’s no inherent meaning or purpose to the way things are, then there’s no reason to succumb to suffering.” 

“That’s a bit bold of you,” you chuckle. 

“I’m not saying that suffering is unavoidable or anything, but I mean, like…” He frowns, trying to unpick the implications of his own words. “Of course, there’ll be things you can’t escape and things that’ll fucking suck. I just mean that... You don’t have to do anything. In that sense, you can pursue what you want to pursue, prioritise the things that make you happy…”

“I see.” 

“I’m not saying that life’s a free-for-all either. Like, I’m not saying that it’s okay for people to be awful to each other,” he continues. “And I understand that the world we live in places limits on us and what we can conceivably do…”  

“What, like the… struggling artist thing?” You clarify. 

“Yeah,” he nods. “I know that it’s not that simple and everything won’t work out just because you want it to. I just think… if it makes you happy then… then it’s worth a try.” 

He sits back in the chair, sinking into the cushions. “But… I don’t know,” he sighs. “It’s hard to articulate.” 

“That’s okay,” you smile. “You’re making sense to me.” 

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Unfortunately, I’m not sure if my tutors have that same insight into my brain.” 

“You’re being too hard on yourself,” you giggle, shifting yourself in his lap. “Can you think of a good one-liner?” You ask, tilting your head at him. 

“Hm…” He muses for a moment, tilting his head upwards. “At the end of the day, I just think that… we have a choice to be kind. Why wouldn’t you be?” 

You laugh. “Why would you say something so brave and yet so controversial?”

“Isn’t that meme outdated now?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I can never keep up with what the young people are doing these days.”

He snorts. “What are you, seventy-two?”

“In body, no,” you shake your head. “But in spirit?”

“Great, I’m dating a geriatric.”

“You knew this going into it,” you giggle. “I’ve just been burdened with age. There’s no space in my heart for optimism anymore.”

“That’s a lie and you know it,” Suga grins, gazing at you fondly.

“I like that about you,” you smile, smoothing a thumb over his cheek.

“I just think that there’s a lot of good out there if you look for it,” he shrugs, his words earnest and sincere. “I know the world isn’t that simple and that there’s plenty of horrible things too, but…” He chews his lip, eyes softening as he once again looking to the sky. “I want to contribute to the world as best as I can.”

You watch him as he watches the stars. You wonder if he knows he’s the brightest amongst them. If he knows how much joy and light, he’s brought to everyone who’s had the privilege of loving him. It’s a gift to be counted amongst them.

You’ve been told that people are made of stardust, but Suga makes you believe it.

You lean in and press a gentle kiss to his cheek, letting the warmth in your chest diffuse through your body. “I love you.”

He smiles at you, and you’re sure he can outshine the moon.

“I love you too.”  

[serosgirl]

✧˖*°࿐ goodbyes ❛ i’m no good at goodbyes ❜

i cried while writing this, so i will not be reviewing for mistakes </3

warnings: angst, vague description of injury, death

abrupt recollection prompted deku to still his steps. imagery frolicked about his frenzied cranium, startling memory reiterating itself with colorful illustration depicting previous years. “i hate goodbyes.” the chime of her voice caused izuku to erect in earnest. planted upon shambles towered by rubble were his frozen heels, shoes glued onto the pavement as he listened diligently to the echo of her voice.

“i hate goodbyes.” her berate of common curtesy acquired perplex expressions of her peers due to impending curiosity. midoriya rapidly pinned his gape of awe upon the lax figure of his classmate who comfortably reclined against the backrest of her metal desk. [yn] grudgingly kicked at the tiles under her feet, chewing the inside of her mouth as if musing her previous claim.

deku fervently extended his arm, thrashing the extremity towards the girl who paid no mind to his commotion. with a desperate cry of her name, izuku hysterically conducted attempts to encounter her envisioned silhouette, but his futile efforts wrenched a furious exhale of contempt when he presently couldn’t will the energy to move. he was subjected to the loom of his lurid memory, heart briskly thumping away as the depiction continued to enact before his widened lids.

his transfixion, contemporary constrain and suppression, ascribed to his rapture fathomed with will induced from transpiring portrayal. the first-person perspective narrated by izuku’s nostalgia maintained its spellbound accomplishment. hero of hosu city, deku, had become frigid; unresponsive to the present world. inapt reminisce prevailed within midoriya’s disarranged conscious.

commencing further conversion of the topic, izuku parts his lips. “how so?” fabricated from his reputative curiosity, midoriya queried his classmate in regards to her statement.

deku was keen to the pitch of his voice. octaves heavy in tone, smooth baritones glissading the surface of his pinna which signified the scene before him was truly vision of past memory, his reddened eyes descended upon the blue gowns that his peers embellished, caps signifying their approaching diversion from yuuei; graduation imminently announcing an awaiting climax.

adjusting the tight cap that was fitted to the measurement of her crown, [yn] indifferently met the ardent gaze of her friend who desired to freeze time where he stood. she dejectedly folded her arms across her chest, an endearing pout weighing the junction of her nude colored lips. “goodbye incorporates possibilities of never seeing that person again,” [yn] sheepishly adverted her stare and fiddled with her thumbs. “departure shouldn’t end in adieu because we aren’t going to suddenly vanish. our class has an inseparable bond, and i’ll never give that up. therefore, i refuse to mention goodbye because i’ll always be where i’m needed most.”

say, midoriya,” the way in which she utilized her feathery soft voice to catch his attention could have him at her every beck and call, ready to grant each and every wish she had of him. “you won’t leave me, right? forever is an eternity i wish to spend with you. i won’t say goodbye since i have no intention of leaving. my place here is with you.” child-like gleam accompanied sweet naivety harbored by the wishful girl. [ec] pools of crystalline solution were glossed in a coat of bliss. brushing plump hills of her cheeks were silken lashes of [hc], each strand slothfully stroking her skin in soft tickles. her flesh had been coated in morning glaze, bright yellow hues painting her delicate figure in a gorgeous frosting of boundless beauty. such sight enraptured midoriya until he was rendered victim of his enthrallment.

izuku hardly required time to ponder a favorable answer. he was aware as to what his evolving desire pertained to. “of course, i won’t.” he bashfully stammered amongst his confession, freckled cheeks flushing as [yn] gifted him sight of her elated countenance, a toothy, cheshire grin depicting her glee. with a smile that rivaled that of the gleaming daystar, [yn] beckoned him closer, impelling the beat of his heart to spike whenever she met his infatuated gape; furthermore inciting a gentle flutter of his beating organ before it rocketed in pounding against his ribcage and hammering his insides.

“then, you must promise me izuku!” gingerly raising a pinky, she outstretched her elbow to meet his quivering appendage; a habit he had yet to overcome but endearing nonetheless. “we’ll seal our promise like this, so you can’t go against your word.” demonstrating how to conclude their vow, [yn] intertwined her lone finger with his own, curving their touch until their thumbs brushed with a cheeky kiss. midoriya overheats at the tender visual of her doe eyes and the meaningful caress of her soft fingertips, melting into a state of undeniable adulation.

“cross my heart.” falsity laced not a letter of his sentence. genuine with his oath, he oozed confidence that contradicted his earlier composure. “i’ll make sure to uphold our promise, and i’ll carry it to my grave.” oppositely, choice lies not within the hands of mortals.

luck, serendipity, and fate do not require provision as all are consequence of historic action. destiny is bound to transpire regardless of will; circumstance will arise of its own accord whereas luck is spontaneous; an unforeseen coincidence that plays in favor of the user. happenings do not transpire as consequence of fabricated arrangement. a mere promise held no weight pertaining to flow of céleste. destiny intended to forsake the hero of his pledged proclamation. mercy was naught of midoriya izuku. bestowed upon him as a curse of a mythical entity, the obligation of conducting such a claim as his was not a duty that befell his shoulders but his companion.

similar to the dancing flicker of a flame, sharp cognizance returned the hero to the cruel reality of his present setting.

wind fiercely nipped and bit the delicate skin of his ears, sharp pressure assalting the sensitive flesh of his red nose and rosy cheeks. his consciousness awoke to his numbing position, fingers tense and reaching for a figure who no longer remained where he last scouted her visage.

his head gyrated furiously across the landscape, eyes panically darting along the ruins of a demolished city. howling gales sung at infrequent consistencies of pitches that squealed into his ears. he was swift in covering his ears, clenching his lid into a compressed squeeze as if it were to alleviate the harsh throb of his skull.

he was oblivious to his predicament, victim to the villain who manipulated his bewildered state and gamboled about his mind. voices overwhelmed his sense, submerging the hero into a fury of resounds that excruciatingly wailed into the drum of his ear. images stunned midoriya into an immoveable state, his meek plea for the dizzying motion of memories to cease inaudible.

he frantically thrashed his head about, even resorting to knocking his own head as to prevent the vigilante from further obstructing his thoughts. his fingers roughly fumbled with the roots of his hair. antagonized and subject of interest, izuku was devoid of perseverance. proper alternatives had yet to be created due to his inability to formulate coherent thought, but an inception of an adored recollection paused the whirring and performed an act before his eyes.

“if you’re obligating yourself to save others, who is going to protect you?” the question was far from anticipated. [yn]’s spontaneous and random query left izuku rambling under his breath, attempting to generate a logical response. his distracted yet engrossed expression of concentration erected a hearty laugh from [yn]’s gut. “don’t worry,” she peered at him through her fluttering lashes and prudently held his hand. “i’ll make sure you’re safe. that will always be my first priority, so don’t worry too much, okay?” she gifted his hand a reassuring squeeze and lead him towards his established headquarters.

the recollection brought a serene smile to his face, even more so whenever the shrill ache to his ears dulled at the perception of [yn]’s voice. she had been one to put his safety before his own, and while her action would continue to be interpreted as thoughtful, izuku would resent her efforts. she had no responsibly to selflessly sacrifice her life for his own. deku remained as reckless as he were in childhood, encountering death more times than he had his birthday. [yn] subjecting herself for his brash action was a calamity midoriya swore to prevent. if it were to require his last breath in place of hers, he would readily spare each fiber of his anatomy. he swore it; he swore to be dead before a wound be placed upon her skin, so how come his troth had been trampled?

ruin; his life had fallen to shambles just as deku began to reach the peak of euphoria. blemish; bruises of all shape and color indent her skin in concerning increments. urgency; izuku abandoned current threat as he rushed to [yn]’s area of impact, finding her battered figure abused and broken. explode; engulfing the male until he was erupting with overwhelming vexation.

timidly scooping her into his arms, izuku saddened at her dwindling complexion. “hold on, [yn]! bear with it just a little longer. paramedics should arrive any time now.”

she huffed a short giggle and drowsily blinked. “i’m not going to need them, izuku.” she rested her eyelids in contemplation, obviously musing over thought of her predicament, immobile extremities contorted in variations she could not identify. her chest awfully caved into her ribcage, belated breaths labored and much more harder to acquire.

“yes,” refusing to agree, midoriya argued with sense and continued to refute against her given claim. “you do need them, [yn]. once they arrive, they’ll take great care of you.”

the wounded woman hummed, not entirely bothering with bantering in opposition to the number one hero. “you want to know something funny, izu?” she utilized a nickname that hadn’t been brought up since elementary. the thought caused izuku’s heart to swell in accumulated grief.

he wanted to reprimand her. demand that she use the name whenever she’s healed and safe within his presence. “what is it, baby?” midoriya severed their professionalism and delicately brushed soothing stripes among her discolored cheeks.

[yn] smiled at the name, beaming an appreciative twinkle that still flickered with her harbored fondness. “my perception as to bidding farewell still hasn’t changed. i hate saying goodbye,” bitterly laughing at her circumstance, [yn] cracked a crooked smile, teeth bathed in scarlet blood but still possessing her undeniable charm. her jest of pity quickly turned sour whenever her sight involuntarily whisked into splotches of blurs, obscuring the male from her sight. her cheesy grin faltered into a wavering frown, her voice trembling as tears gathered in the wells of her eyes. “but, i think i have to.”

whimpers shook her shoulders and she weakly wiggled her fingers in an eager attempt to hold onto izuku; hold onto something to ground her to reality. was it selfish of her to make such a wish? express her truehearted desire? she longed for a few moments more, willing the black in her vision to subside for a chance to talk to her lover just a second more.

izuku cradled her slumped position in the crevice of his arms, brushing a thumb beneath her eyes as to wipe away her current sorrow. “if you hate it so much, don’t,” years intended to build midoriya into the hero he was today could not have prepared him for a scene such as this in thousands of centuries to come. he was a hero for fucks sake! his job was to defend and protect, but yet you could no longer muster the strength to weakly cling onto the sleeve of his costume. “don’t say goodbye. stay here with me, please, [yn]. you’ve made it this far, baby; achieved goals you formally thought impossible. your presence has generated sanction within the lives of people you hardly know. you’re so strong, [yn]. you’re brave and courageous. children look up to you and aspire to follow in your steps.

there’s so much of your life left to live. who says your journey has to conclude right now?” the fingers that previously clutched onto his emerald collar had steadily laxed from their coil, her drooping limb motioning to fall onto her lap. deku hastily grasped her wrist, bringing the cooling flesh of her palm against the firey hot beds of his cheeks. leaning into her vacant caress, the boy cried, “don’t leave me, [yn]. there’s so much more,” unresponsive to his outburst, [yn]’s soft gaze continued to peer upon izuku’s tear-filled optics. a lone droplet parted the corner of her glass eyes, obtaining midoriya’s desperate search for signs of persisting life. with a shudder he continued on, “there’s so much more i wish to do with you.”

he miserably searched for small ministrations; a twitch or quiver, perhaps the fluttering of her tear-swollen eyelids, but he received only the inanimate stare of [yn]’s dull hues. she had departed; left izuku to continue his journey alone. their vow splintered into fragments, falling to shards that clattered and emphasized the hero’s current state: heartache prompted by desolation.

spitefully, deku tightened his hold around her limp shoulders as he exclaimed frustrations to a sky who could not hear his snivels. “forever, right?” contradictory as to the pledge sealed by their past, eternity concluded far soon than anticipated. a pitiful disruption of izuku’s voice initiated angry sobs that vigorously dug his knees into the crumbled debris. “you promised me! you promised me, [yn]!” he screamed to the heavens as if he would summon you from the throne of clouds. “did our promise mean nothing? your place here is with me!”

deku beat upon his chest whenever his lungs began to constrict, depriving him of air to supplement his wheezing cry. hot tears wept his tormented figure. the droplets descended the hills of his cheek and splattered upon the lifeless complexion of his companion. “i promised to take our vow to the grave so why,” attacks of breathless inhales prompted an intermission as izuku’s sniffles dared to throttle his composure. “why are you the one to go first?”

[howtosingit]

Fic: I Just Wanted You to Know (This is Me Trying)

“My words shoot to kill when I’m mad / I have a lot of regrets about that / and maybe I don’t quite know what to say / but I’m here in your doorway”

*

Carlos makes a nice dinner, TK leaves in a hurry. But then, he comes back. (Immediately follows the 1x02 disaster dinner, not canon compliant.)

2.4K | Also on AO3

A/N: Taylor Swift made me write this. Title from “This is Me Trying,” my favorite song from Folklore. 

------

Carlos is nearly elbow-deep in soapy water as he scrubs forcefully on the baking dish in the sink. He knows that he could easily let it soak overnight, or put it in the dishwasher, but the nearly-mindless task helps him to calm down, and refocus. Besides, it may be nearly one in the morning, but he’s not falling asleep anytime soon.

His steel blue shirt still hangs open from when TK tried to rip it off of him only an hour before, reminding him that he should try to find the buttons before he steps on one when he’s barefoot. His mind is suddenly assaulted with the phantom feeling of lips on his neck, and he takes a deep breath, dropping the sponge into the water to tightly grip the counter in front of him. That’s the last thing he wants to be thinking about right now. 

He’s upset. Yes, at TK, for walking out without telling him what the fuck he did wrong. For acting like it was such a big deal for them to know something about each other besides what they look like when they come. For throwing his dinner and his feelings back in his face without any regard for what that would do to him.

But more than all of that, he’s mad at himself. He’s mad for always trying so hard, for always pushing people further than they want to go. He’s mad for letting the overwhelming feeling of a  connection that followed his hookup with TK drive him to force something deeper between them. He’s an attractive guy with a good job and a nice apartment and a cool car; that’s all men seem to want from him, and he should probably stop expecting anything else. 

It hurts. He’s 26-years-old, he’s known who he is since high school, and it’s not getting any easier. Living in Texas was never going to make being gay a walk in the park, but he doesn’t understand why he can’t find someone who’s willing to put in a little bit of effort. He can’t keep doing this casual string of hookups that feels endless, not when it leaves him feeling more like a shell of a person each and every time.

It felt different with TK. Carlos met him at work, for one. Here, he thought, is another man who gets it. Someone else who runs into dangerous situations because he wants to protect people. There was a relief, almost, of not having to worry about whether TK was only interested in him for his uniform, and he let that relief cloud his judgment, turning their brief and flirty interactions into the beginnings of something that was never meant to be. 

Carlos clenches his jaw, reaching back into the soapy water for the sponge. He can feel a slight headache coming on, probably from a combination of the lateness of the hour and the lack of food in his stomach. With a sigh, he gives up on the dishes, quickly drying his hands off on a dish towel. He’ll clean the rest of them in the morning, once he’s had a few hours of sleep. He moves towards the dining room table to grab his phone, when a knock on his front door stops him in his tracks.

He has no idea who would show up at his apartment at nearly one in the morning. For a moment, he hesitates, wondering how he should handle this. He lives in a nice neighborhood, and he’s not afraid of anybody who could be on his doorstep; on the other hand, an unexpected visitor in the middle of the night can only mean bad news, and Carlos feels his heart start to race as his adrenaline kicks in.  

He jumps a bit when his phone vibrates on the table next to him. Glancing down, he sees a text from the last person he ever expected to hear from again.

It’s me

Carlos swallows, his heart continuing to pound in his chest as he quickly moves towards the door. He pulls it open, his brows furrowing in complete confusion at the sight of the man before him.

TK stands against a background of darkness, his yellow hoodie bright in the light pouring through the open door. Carlos takes him in, searching for any sign of injury or some other explanation for what’s going on. He notices TK’s hands tucked away inside the front pocket of his sweatshirt, the way he bites down on his bottom lip, and the puffiness around his red eyes.

“TK,” Carlos starts, his voice oddly blank. “What are you doing here?”

The man just stares back at him, his body clearly tense as his eyes shift to look everywhere but directly at him. He feels his own face harden, his frustration mounting at the way that this man makes him feel so damn much, and he’s just about to tell TK to go home when the other man breaks the silence, his voice thin.

“I was in the area and I saw that your light was still on.”

Carlos stares back at him, confusion clear on his face. “You left an hour ago, TK,” he reminds him, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he plants his feet in the doorway. 

“Yeah,” TK admits, and Carlos watches as his green eyes shift down towards his chest; unlike before, he does not let the feeling of TK’s gaze on him affect him. At least not too much. “I, um, I took a walk around, to cool off a bit,” he explains, gesturing towards something in the distance that Carlos can’t see. “You have a really nice park at the end of your street.”

“You mean the park that closed at 10?” Carlos asks, raising an eyebrow. “What is this, are you trying to get arrested or something?”

TK visibly swallows, ducking his head down at Carlos’s chastisement. The act of uncertainty softens the edge he’s feeling, and he takes a deep breath, letting go of some of the tension in his shoulders. 

“Do you want to come inside?” he asks, watching as TK’s head shoots up at the unexpected question. Carlos can’t help the slight smile that pulls at his lips; as much as he wishes it wasn’t the case, he finds TK to be incredibly endearing.

“No, no, that’s okay,” TK hurries to assure him, shaking his head. “It’s late, and I don’t want to keep bothering you. I just,” he huffs, tipping his head back to look up at the clear night sky, “I just really hated the idea of you going to bed angry.”

It’s a statement that doesn’t really make sense to Carlos. Why would TK care if he’s mad or not? But it also makes his stomach twist in a knot, the idea that maybe his initial impression of the firefighter wasn’t entirely incorrect sparking his curiosity. He can’t help but want to know more about this contradiction of a person. 

With a nod, Carlos steps forward onto his front walk, pulling the door closed behind him. The unexpected action causes TK to jump back, giving Carlos space to sit down on his front step. He brings his knees up to his chest, folding his arms on top of them, and stares straight ahead at TK’s shoes.

“I’m more upset than angry,” he admits, rubbing at his brow as he works out what he wants to say, “and most of what I’m feeling isn’t even about you. I mean, there’s a lot of confusion, which is definitely your fault, but the anger is more at myself.”

He sees TK shift in front of him, rocking from side-to-side, before he moves forward to take a seat next to Carlos. A sudden warmth flares up on Carlos’s right side at his proximity, but he tries his best to ignore it. 

“Why would you be angry at yourself?” TK asks gently, and Carlos can picture his face: his brown eyebrows furrowed in confusion above those soft, twinkling green eyes. He wants more than anything to look over at him, drink him in, but he knows he’s just asking for trouble if he does. So, instead, he continues to stare straight ahead.

��Most guys that I meet, they’re kind of just in it for sex,” he replies, bringing his hand up to run through the hair at the back of his head. “Like, I’m not a stranger to casual hookups, even if I really would like something more for myself. But those guys, I usually meet on an app, or at a club, and I try not to have too many expectations.

“I guess just because of the way we first met, the fact that it was different from those others, I made some assumptions about us and what this might mean,” he continues. “I’m sorry that I acted on them and put you in a weird place.”

There’s silence after he finishes speaking, the two of them just sitting side-by-side on his front step at one in the morning. It’s completely bizarre, and Carlos doesn’t really know what’s happening, but he’s not uncomfortable with it. There’s just something about TK beside him that lessens his concerns a little bit.

He’s a little shocked when he feels a weight on his arm, and he looks down to see TK’s fingers curled gently around his bicep. He turns to look at him, unsurprised to find the exact face that he was expecting, furrowed eyebrows and twinkling eyes. It steals his breath from his lungs, the absolute beauty of this man.

“I’m sorry, too,” TK says, his voice quiet. “For not being clear about what I wanted, and then for being an asshole when you couldn’t read my mind.” 

They hold the look for a moment before Carlos nods, staring ahead again as he twists his fingers together in front of him. “Apology accepted.”

“I’m also sorry about the shirt,” TK adds, and Carlos can hear humor behind the words. “I can buy you a new one.”

The image of TK pressed up against him, forcibly tearing his shirt open, flashes through his mind, and Carlos feels his heart rate quicken at the memory. “Don’t worry about it,” he assures him, his voice coming out a little shaky. “My mom taught me how to sew buttons back on.”

From next to him, TK lets out a sudden loud laugh, the sound shooting straight through his chest. He turns to look at him, a smile forming at the look of absolute joy that has taken over TK’s face. “What?” he asks, trying not to laugh, too. It’s a truly weird night.

“Don’t tell me she got so tired of men tearing your clothes off that she forced you to learn how to sew them back together,” TK cries, an odd light dancing in his eyes. 

“Of course not, you jerk,” Carlos says, leaning over to nudge TK in annoyance. “She just wanted me to learn how to do things on my own. Don’t you make fun of my mama, TK Strand.” 

“I would never,” TK says, his grin sliding into a look of intense seriousness. Carlos raises an eyebrow at him, questioning his honesty. TK simply stares back, his eyes still dancing, before shaking his head and lowering his gaze down to his lap. “My god, who are you?” he questions suddenly, his voice rising in what sounds like disbelief. “You cook, you sew, your apartment is fully-furnished, you have a job, you’re the sexiest man I’ve ever met, you’re so fucking nice. Just, like, how are you even real?”

He ends with a loud groan, his body collapsing against Carlos as he rests his head against his shoulder. Carlos can feel a heat rising up the back of his neck as he stares down at him in shock, having now idea how to answer the man.

“You know, for the record,” TK says after a quiet moment, his head still pressed against Carlos, “I like you for more than just sex.

“I know it probably doesn’t seem like it,” he continues, his voice low, “but it’s true. I know I freaked out on you, it was all just really intense and unexpected and it took me to some bad places that still feel really raw. I thought I could handle just the physical stuff and deal with the emotional baggage later, but it kind of blew up in my face. And yours.”

Carlos listens carefully, trying to fill in the gaps with everything that TK’s not telling him. It’s obvious that TK has some skeletons in his closet, maybe recently gathered, that will help to explain his behavior this evening, but he doesn’t know if he should ask about them. Except, his heart can’t help but cling to TK’s initial declaration, about how he likes Carlos for more than just his body, and that pushes him to take a chance.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he hedges gently, trying not to spook the other man. TK lets out a sigh, shifting against him to prop his chin on top of Carlos’s shoulder, looking up at him. Carlos looks back, their faces close as they study one another. Those green eyes are absolutely stunning.  

“I think I do,” TK admits, bringing his hand up to drag his fingers along Carlos’s jaw. “But it’s a long story, so maybe not tonight. Is that okay?”

Carlos nods before he even has a chance to consider it, leaning forward to press their foreheads together. “Yeah, TK, that’s okay. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here.”

He finds that he means that.

Before he can overthink it, he leans up to press a soft kiss at TK’s hairline, hearing the way the action draws a heavy breath from the other man. Slowly, Carlos relaxes back against his front door, wrapping an arm around TK’s waist to pull him closer. The firefighter goes willingly, folding himself against Carlos’s side as his hand comes up to rest against his exposed chest. 

They stay there in the stillness of the Texas night, letting time move on without them. Carlos closes his eyes for a moment as he relishes the opportunity to finally be more for someone, just this once. Just like he’s always wanted.

It’s even better than he expected.

[ill337erate]

Guess I’ll post abt this

So a few days ago I watched the final Evangelion Rebuild movie, 3.0 + 1.0, and was shocked at how different my own reaction was compared to what I had seen online. Up till that point, all I had seen were people praising it as a great ending. When I finally watched it, I thought… basically… it was abysmal. The original series and EoE are still there, thank god, so this doesn’t RUIN EVERYTHING for me. But it was startling.

Disclaimers, I guess: I haven’t rewatched the movie at all, nor have I recently watched the other Rebuild movies. I didn’t write notes; this is just some of my off-the-cuff opinions, in no particular order.

1) The movie sets things up and immediately contradicts itself. The most egregious example of this is Shinji’s mental state and his trauma. For the first part of the movie they set up that Shinji has trauma so severe that just seeing the choker makes him vom instantly. Then he sees another friend explode into LCL and he’s…. fine. What?? I got so much emotional whiplash.

2) The fan service is out of place and often tasteless. I’m not a fan of the way the movie uses fanservice shots during clearly serious scenes, or adds some nonsense over top to pretend it wasn’t gratuitous. I’m not saying the fanservice in NGE was always tasteful and warranted, but I will say that at the very least it captured the awkwardness of adolescent horniness as experienced by Shinji. When framed in that light, I think it’s much more palatable. In this movie however this framing isn’t really possible since Shinji goes from catatonic to hero, not really ever getting to just be a boy; plus, a lot of the blatant fanservice is done in scenes he’s not present in. His point of view does not color those moments.

3) The fights are so boring. There are no real stakes, the limits that used to make battles tense and uncertain have all been dropped. It’s just dozens of minutes of nonstop action interspersed throughout the movie. Sometimes the CGI dips in quality and it’s very jarring and apparent. I already didn’t care about the battles, but when they don’t even look good… guh.

4) Rei’s “being innocent in Ghibli town” moments made me roll my eyes. It was very contrived. You cannot expect me to believe that someone who can speak coherently hasn’t encountered simple words. When she receives a turnip from a kid and asks “what would you say in this situation,” (to which the child replied, “you say thank you”) wanted to scream. Did none of the writers ever see a toddler? You think someone with little socialization would intuitivey feel that they had to say something in that moment? No, they would just take the turnip and not say a damn thing. Maybe take a big bite out of it and chew noisily with their mouth open. What made NGE Rei so fucked up was precisely that she was never raised the way a human child should be, and the results weren’t cute. They weren’t endearing. Her room was disgusting and she had nothing that we would understand as self-respect, because of that lack of socialization. Anyway, I could go on and on, but basically I found it super forced, unrealistic, and manipulative, especially since they just explode her for no clear reason anyway. I guess just to show us that Shinji is forever completely over his trauma and is totally invulnerable to emotions now. Nothing will ever faze this guy again. Character development!

5) There was exactly 0 buildup to boobgirl and Shinji getting together. What a bizarre end pairing. And apparently she’s technically like, 60 years old at that point?? Lmfao. I’ve seen it being called “comphet” and honestly, yeah.

6) My only hope for this movie was for the 3rd movie to be contextualized, but instead, it only made it look stupid. The WILLE characters who hated Shinji are only now, 14 years later, coming to accept that Shinji saved them? Are you fucking kidding me? So this whole time these people just didn’t sit down to think things through, which is why it never ocurred to them until now that 1) Shinji had no real choice in that moment, 2) his actions literally saved their asses, even if much was lost in the process. Wow! It was so weird to see Misato like Shinji again when she spent the last movie being so cold and unfeeling towards him. She reverted to what you’d more or less expect, but… why? Why was she even pissed off in the first place, she literally ENCOURAGED HIM BEFORE THE 2nd MOVIE’S IMPACT. This movie did nothing to help the characters in movie 3 make any sense.

7) I really disliked the visual callbacks to NGE and EoE because they all felt so hollow; there was no substance justifying those scenes, no proper buildup. They were transparent references for referencing’s sake. Ritsuko shoots Gendo because she did that in the other continuity, remember that?? Remember how she did that and it was iconic? Remember the giant Rei head? Remember Asuka going beserk as she fought off other Evas? Remember Shinji saw Asuka naked? Remember the quiiiirky style shifts to sketchy uncolored frames and to live action?

8) The dialogue was basically nonsense. So much of it was fake-deep (“there are only two things to do with a father… pat him on the back, or kill him.” Uh??? If you say so???????), while the rest was just an endless assault of jargon, including brand new shit that wasn’t introduced or foreshadowed in the previous 3 movies. The fuck is the Book of Life and why is Kaworu able to write shit in it. Why are there endless religion spears. I lost track of how many Impacts even happened by the end of the movie, and also stopped caring.

9) At the same time as incomprehensible new stuff is flung at you, the already-established stuff stops following the in-universe rules that once bound them. AT Fields were once a consistent and understandable phenomenon; in this movie they literally just do whatever. A soulless Eva creating an AT field that blocks itself from moving forward? Sure! Why not! It just has to look cool and complicated! Really, this is why I didn’t care at all about any of the new stuff they kept introducing: there was absolutely no regard for the the pre-existing lore, why bother learning the new concepts if they were going to be just as messy and inconsistent?

10) The name of the movie is incredibly obnoxious and I love when people just call it 4.0

All in all, this movie seemed obssessed with the surface-level aspects of Evangelion. Big robots fighting other big robots. Blue haired alien girl being a blue haired alien girl, angry redhead girl being angry redhead girl. Calling back to iconic scenes from the original iteration. Fanservice! But it didn’t have any real heart, and that makes me uninterested in engaging with it on the meta level, or bothering to take any time to understand the terminology and mechanics built upon in this movie.

Anyway yeah I did not enjoy this final Rebuild movie, but on the plus side I will certainly rewatch the original series + movies with renewed appreciation!

[jeogiyall]

Jolly As Holly; K.TH

[Ari’s Christmas Prompts: movie marathon on christmas eve with boyfriend! kim taehyung from bts!]

❆︎genre- the sweetest fluff with the sweetest christmas cutie pie, and a pinch of even more fluff

❆︎word count- 1.6k

❆︎notes- breaking my own heart over here with all this fluffy goodness,, i’m a sucker for kpop boys and christmastime

—

"Hey there, Cupid." Your boyfriend greets you as he walks into the kitchen, chuckling at the reindeer headband on your head. 

You smile without looking up from the counter, busy making your famous hot chocolate, and you feel his arms slide around your waist to hug you from behind.

"Hello to you too, Blitzen." You say teasingly, putting down the mugs and turning into your boyfriend's embrace.

Taehyung's megawatt grin is mile-wide as he hugs you tightly. "You ready for our marathon, baby? I brought all of our favorites to watch tonight, so you get to pick first."

You can feel your heart melting into a puddle in your chest, much like the marshmallows in your hot cocoa; he's always had this effect on you, and it never, ever gets old.

"You already know what's gonna be first, don't you?" You ask as he lovingly kisses the tip of your nose.

You're really on the verge of melting now; he reaches up to adjust the felt reindeer ears on your head, and your entire body goes pleasantly warm when his fingers graze your cheek. You can't help yourself from leaning in, going after the kiss you've been waiting patiently for all day.

Kim Taehyung is a magical human being. His heart is nothing short of pure gold, and simply being near him is like sitting next to a bonfire, making every room he's in cozy and every touch feel like heaven. So when he kissed you for the first time after asking you out three Christmases ago, you discovered that even his kisses were otherworldly.

You never can wrap your head around just how you got so, so lucky with this man; he's like an angel on earth, and every minute you're with him is a minute you love him even more. His smile is always so bright, his laughter is always contagious, and his love is so steady and unfading that every day together feels like Christmas.

You've always had a special place in your heart for Christmas; but the past three years have made it hard to decide what you love more- Christmas, or Taehyung.

You have a sneaking little suspicion that the answer to that question might be kissing you breathless at this very moment.

You can feel his smile against your lips as he gives you the sweetest kiss of your life, and your hands find their way to his scarf and hold on tightly, bringing him even closer to you. He delicately cradles your face in his palms, fingers tracing lightly over your cheekbones as he kisses you.

Your boyfriend is absolutely, devastatingly perfect. You're more sure of this than you've ever felt about anything.

"I think somebody missed me while I was gone," Taehyung softly teases you when he pulls away, his eyes somehow seeing past your own to peer into your heart. You hope he can see all the love you have for him in there; you hope he knows how completely you adore him.

Based on the lovestruck expression on his pink face, you think that he probably does know.

"I did miss you, Tae." You tell him honestly. "It was only a week, but I still missed you."

Every year, Taehyung goes on a winter trip with six of his best friends to the mountains. They stay for a week at a ski lodge and take time to unwind from their stressful jobs; and it makes you happy that your boyfriend has such wonderful people in his life.

But you still miss him when he's gone.

"I missed you too, baby." Taehyung presses another kiss to your forehead. "So I'll go ahead and start Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer then?" He asks knowingly, winking at you. You laugh at his flirty attempts and nod, reluctantly letting go so you can finish making the hot cocoa.

"You're the best, Tae." You answer, putting an extra handful of marshmallows in your boyfriend's mug. He exits the kitchen and heads for your living room, grabbing the Rudolph CD from his bag and plopping down in front of the tv. You laugh to yourself as he mumbles quietly, never quite sure how to get the CD player to work; your old-fashioned BluRay technology is classic but confusing to him.

You give the mugs one last stir, and almost as if on cue, you hear the theme music from your favorite holiday movie start up after Taehyung lets out a triumphant cheer. You carefully grab the cups and walk into the room towards the couch as you try not to spill anything.

"It didn't take you nearly as long this year, baby," You remark jokingly, "I'd say this is progress for you."

Your sweetheart of a boyfriend shoots you a grin as he not so subtly uses his middle finger to rub his head.

"Thanks princess, I try my best." He says, the smile on his face contradicting his sarcastic words. You roll your eyes and place the hot chocolate down on the table before sinking onto the couch, beckoning for Taehyung to come join you.

He grabs your big fuzzy blanket and all but bounces over to you; and in the five seconds it takes for him to sit down, he's already got you trapped in his arms beneath the blanket, cuddling you to his chest tightly.

You don't want to be anywhere else in the whole wide world.

You snuggle into him gladly, letting your legs tangle and kissing his cheek when he hands you the remote. "You really are the best, you know?" You say softly, turning up the volume and finally pressing play.

You miss the glimmer of absolute adoration in Taehyung's eyes while the opening credits begin to roll; you're completely oblivious to how his heart flops wildly at the sight of you smiling in his arms with a Christmas movie in the background, and he doesn't waste the chance to plant a sneaky kiss at the corner of your mouth.

You shake your head at his antics and further curl into his arms, and Taehyung swears that if he died right now, he'd die the happiest man on earth.

Because what could be better than watching Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer with the love of your life?

(No, the answer isn't Christmas.)

*

"Are you crying?" You whisper quietly, hearing a series of sniffles coming from the man beside you.

Your mugs sit empty and forgotten on the coffee table, the clock above the fireplace alerting you that it's almost midnight. You're already on the fourth movie of the night, Frosty the Snowman, and you have a feeling that you aren't the only one tearing up at the sorrowful scene when Frosty loses his liveliness.

Taehyung nods once, not even bothering to feel embarrassed at the teardrop rolling down his cheek. "You are, too, so don't laugh at me." He says shortly. Your heart skips a beat at how unbelievably endearing this man is; the fact that he's crying over a children's movie has just made him all the more loveable in your eyes.

"Baby, I cry every time Mufasa dies in The Lion King," You console him, "I'm not about to tease you."

You only get another nod in response; you sigh when he sniffles loudly, wrapping your arms around his middle and nestling your head into the spot between his head and his shoulder.

"C'mere, you cutie." You murmur. He squeezes you back instantly, bringing a fond smile to your face.

You always knew Taehyung was a big softie.

"Better?" You ask as the scene changes and Frosty shows signs of coming back to life. Taehyung hums in agreement, one hand coming out of your blanket cocoon to stroke your hair.

The action is as simple as could be; but with Taehyung, even the simplest things turn magical.

"Better." He mumbles once Frosty is once again alive. You resist the urge to laugh at how cute he is, wanting to pinch his cheeks like an overbearing grandma. You settle instead for another kiss, keeping it short and quick; but you should have known that short kisses aren't enough in any situation with a boyfriend like Taehyung.

"Oh no you don't, Y/N," He scolds you with a mischievous lilt, "you better come back here and finish what you started."

You try to hold your ground, letting out a giggle when Taehyung playfully presses his face against your cheek while making kissing noises. "Stop it Tae, I am trying to finish what I started!" You whine in protest as he continues relentlessly. "I'm trying to finish the movie!"

Your attempt to resist his charms fails miserably, and you end up getting the kiss of a lifetime when you finally give in and bring his head to yours, burying your fingers in his hair.

He tastes like Christmas, you think to yourself; this man is made of hot chocolate and holly, and his personality is like peppermint. You forget about Frosty entirely when Tae's hand pushes your hair behind your ear, his kisses deep and full of meaning.

His lips are soft against yours, the hot cocoa that lingers on both of you making everything that much sweeter. Everything is sweet with him- kisses, movie marathons, everything; life is so, so sweet with Kim Taehyung by your side.

You tell him this when he breaks away, and you're rewarded with a goofy smirk that makes your chest bloom. Taehyung wiggles his nose against yours in a different kind of kiss that causes Christmas lights to twinkle behind your eyes.

"You're too good to me, Y/N. You're like my Christmas miracle from heaven." He praises lovingly.

You think nothing could ever be more perfect than these moments spent with your incredible, intoxicating boyfriend; and when the clock strikes midnight, making it officially Christmas, you decide that this year is your favorite so far.

"Merry Christmas, princess." -

[nny11writes]

Hello there. I was reading How to Quit You again and I have a question. What is in the reports on Catra that the Moons keep referencing? Maybe I just missed it in the fic cause my english is not very good. I was just curious.

So, uh, this got a LOT longer than I thought it would and then I started including pictures and basically this got wildly out of hand. Kind of like the fic itself, so I’m not sure what I was thinking lol.

You totally didn’t miss anything! I purposefully left it vague so that people could insert whatever they thought was appropriate (well, inappropriate in this case) there. Essentially to let people ramp things up or down more to their comfort. It was also done in part because back then I wasn’t sure how intense I wanted to make things either. This fic has honestly gotten darker and more mature than I ever thought it would, so leaving it vague has certainly been a benefit to my changing whims lol.

But these days I do have a solid idea for the things that went down. So what I know see happening there is mostly a lot of her mouth getting her in trouble (and not just mouthing off, god Catra wields words like surgical scalpels), but there are a few notable cases where she did physically attack others. 

Catra is still in a bit of Horde mindset here so anything she perceives as someone trying to hold power over her or kick her down demands she respond. Because if you aren’t on top, then you’re getting crushed under someone’s boot and Catra has both 1. Long grown tired of being abused and 2. Gotten used to being the one on top. So she responds with more force than needed and uses preemptive strikes to protect herself.

We need a little backstory here so:

When the whole Erlandia thing went down, Catra was 2nd in command of the Horde. Technically Weaver was, but everyone knew that it was actually Catra calling the shots. She’d had Hordak’s favor for years by that point and practically was the boss of their little posse. But Hordak is VERY vicious in this fic since we didn’t have a Horde Prime when I started writing this (If I were to do a full re-write I’d make Prime be the big guy and the characterization would fit so damn well tbh), and he operates under a fuck you model of catch 22. If you mess up you are fucked, and if you are honest about messing up you are only barely mildly less fucked. So if you can successfully lie or deflect the blame then his wrath won’t fall on you, but get caught lying? Woof. 

So either way is a great way to end up dead (RIP Mantenna I will release your death fic someday), and the higher up the chain of command you are the farther you have to fall. 

(Picture below of the bridge near my hometown I was picturing Mantenna being hurled from in Catra’s place for reference, because I realized no one would understand my falling joke at this point :D)

(Catra had a long way to fall whenever Hordak decided to kick her down)

Once she saw her wanted posters Catra knew she had to flee Horde territory or else she would be captured and probably brutally tortured for weeks before finally dying. And the Horde, who had suffered under Catra’s relentless pace and high expectations (look, they certainly were 400% more efficient at first and then people start dropping for exhaustion and mutiny and worse), they would’ve loved the opportunity to do literally anything they wanted to her. That’s why she ran.

So Catra’s still somewhat in this mindset of “I’m running this operation and if you try to contradict me or undermine me I have full permission to kill you for it” those first few years in Etheria.

Some of the worst of her behavior was actually contained at the Archer’s house where she was living until she got the Brakeman job. (Bow is currently being a little fickle but I am writing from his PoV for another one shot in this AU where he’ll touch on these things a bit too.) By the time she gets that job, Catra is already starting to try and be a better person. Begrudgingly and with a lot of frustration for sure. But she is trying and it’s a painful growing process.

(Hello sir, like that train and view, this is Catra chapter 3 y’all)

So those reports contain her mostly being a smart ass. 

But she also verbally eviscerates people, picking them apart piece by piece in public settings. She caused at least one mental breakdown on the tracks where people need to keep their heads for safety. 

Think of her like someone on twitter who keeps the receipts (and wisely spends her limited time alive compiling them into a list) and jumps on someone for making a mistake, which she then blows out of proportion while never giving them the chance to learn and grow. All while making every bad faith interpretation she can and poisoning the well. She delights in this, she loves tearing someone down to nothing because it means she WON and she was right, and in the moment people seemed to cheer her on. But afterwards, when everyone else gets tied up in the shame and guilt of their actions she doesn’t and it puts her more on the outs. 

The thing about this sort of behavior is that it’s hard to prove when it’s verbal and everyone else involved is too ashamed to admit they participated. So it’s more “hearsay” than anything else. Honestly, kind of like real life there’s a lot of people being told to suck it up, ignore her, or be the bigger person while she is being an outright bully. It’s not right, but it’s what happened.

On top of that, she lies and deflects and blames as well. Nothing can be her fault (because Hordak would’ve killed her, Weaver would’ve tortured her, and worse), so she is conniving and scheming and manages to twist everything so she’s never the root problem even when she is. The higher ups are usually doing their best to interpret what they are hearing (although not always) second or third hand, and Catra can dance verbal circles around her co-workers. 

This doesn’t endear her to anyone either.

I hesitate to say as a consequence of her behavior, because that is some strong ass wording, but essentially her coworkers are fed up with being attacked by her. And they decide to get back at her, and they certainly can’t do that through talking or arguing (some have tried, almost all have failed). So a small group of them do physically attack her.

She uses that as justification to be a right bastard and decides to start doling it out again because it’s proof to her that she was right. She absolutely falls back into destructive, awful behavior. Everywhere is just like the Horde, they just hide it better. Catra doesn’t ramp up, but her attacks become more vicious and more directed after that. And this is also when she finally decides that the Archer’s were an anomaly and she absolutely needs to prove that no one can try to get the jump on her.

So the later reports are fewer in number, but more about her being caught or admitting to doing something physically violent instead of her being sarcastic or verbally cruel. These reports range from throwing a single punch to implying she’d attack with a weapon. Mostly it’s small scale (this is when we see Angella talk to Catra in a flashback), but there is one very notable exception.

Catra was working top with a motherfucker who had determined that no one liked her, so he thought he could try to push her around. They were literally assigned together because no one liked either of them, and they were both known for being violent. So the bosses went, “Let them duke it out on the trains, maybe calm them both down!” (Fucking idiots. Why yes, all this gunpowder should be stored next to the lit oil lamp!) She’s trying to keep it together, but she absolutely loses it and goes feral on him. This confrontation happens when she almost kills him by dangling him over the side of the train as they approached a tunnel. It could’ve been the perfect crime, brakeman is a dangerous fucking job for many reason but falling off the train or getting drunk and getting yourself killed isn’t uncommon. 

(Think like the miners at Cerro Gordo who would ride the ore carts back up from town, and be so fucking drunk they’d stand up and get their heads knocked clean off their bodies.) 

Catra really almost does it too, but the last time she thought she’d had the perfect crime with Weaver she’d been caught and everything fucking fell apart. So she yanks him back to safety, and tells him to fuck off.

Somehow she really thought that would be the end of it (she made her points, made him piss himself, and is now top dog again; good job girlboss), but bastard boy ran to the bosses to report her.

(Look, picture this train going through a slightly smaller tunnel rocking side to side, depending on the rail up to a foot either side, so you would get crushed if you weren’t laying down on top or clinging to the back of the train. You’d be terrified and report someone too.)

This is what Angella is warning Glimmer away over. She’s thinking about this instance, where Catra claims that they did get into a fight and admits to starting it but denies threatening to kill him. He claims that he did nothing wrong while everyone knows he does shit wrong on a regular schedule. And everyone else says, “Well we weren’t there but it sounds like something she’d do.”

Catra is careful to never go too far where it can be proven, and in town she is as polite as can be. Everyone knows she’s a hard worker and slowly but surely she makes a place for herself in the community without even noticing. Most of the folks she works with don’t have the time, money, or energy to build their own reputation as individuals. Company housing was built specifically because the workers were known as being too rowdy. But Catra will burn the candle from both ends to see Bow, Adora, and Glimmer. So Angella is hearing stories from folks in town about that “lovely young woman” and horror stories from the rails about that “hellish bitch”, and she doesn’t know which to believe. 

She’s biased in Catra’s favor because she’s seen Catra be good and lovely, she’s biased because her daughter is crushing on Catra, she’s biased for a lot of reasons.

Angella is also a coward and conflict avoidant. 

It’s easier to give excuses, or look for reasoning, or even twist the narrative so that she doesn’t have to confront anyone. She won’t have to confront Catra and hurt her, which would hurt Glimmer and Bow. She won’t have to confront her workers either, no need to face them down when they are furious with her for inaction. She doesn’t have to fear a fight or even put her reputation on the line as long as she can “prove” that Catra didn’t go as far as the reports say she does. 

I love Angella to death, but the woman has a lot of problems and flaws and isn’t working on any of them. She does care about her workers health and happiness, but not enough to sacrifice her daughters (or herself). Frankly she barely sacrifices her pocket book but she does. Yes she’s semi-capitalist propaganda but this version of the “wild west” is more idealized for sure for sure. :\

Essentially, Catra got fucking lucky that Angella was looking for ways to prove that she was a good person. Because if Angella had actually put her glasses on and faced the truth? Catra would’ve been fired and practically run out of town.

Aaaaaaand that’s what I think was in the reports. :)

[monaownsmyass]

Nice Meeting You

Requested fic by anon. (If you have any fic ideas or requests you'd like me to write, you can leave me an ask!)

Book: Perfect Match

Pairing: Alana Kusuma x f!MC (Kai Park)

Genre: Fluff

Rating: G, none

Word Count: 3,641

A/N: MC meets Alana’s dad for the first time. For the sake of this fic, Alana’s dad moved back to his home country after he finally retired. I used some Bahasa Indonesia phrases and I feel the need to apologise to native speakers if I messed up lmao I’ll put the translation at the end of the fic. I also apologise if anyone is ooc or if some facts/parts contradict the canon work, it’s been some time since I’ve read PM and my memory is foggy 😩

Tag list: @ineedskyecrandall @kamilahsayeet2063 @avalawrencefl @lovekamilahsayeed @thequeenkamilahsayeed @heygmicheelle @djtjsmith14 @jjlover01 @soft-for-drake @dopeyouth @alexroyard (lmk if anyone would like to be included or removed in my next fics and if you only want to be tagged for certain pairings.)

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, the anxiety I've been feeling for the past few days amplified.

"Babe?" I felt a warm familiar hand greet mine on the armrest between us. "Are you alright? You're not scared of flying, are you?"

I gave my girlfriend a nervous laugh. "Not at all, after everything that went down and all the travelling we did, I might as well call flying my second home," I joked.

She didn't laugh though, her brows were knit in worry. "Then what is it?"

"Alana, it's nothing. It's just that, well, I'm a little nervous to meet your dad." I paused and bit my lip. "Okay, maybe I'm terrified of meeting your dad."

That was when she let out a laugh. "Oh, Kai, just relax! He may be a little uptight but he's really nice and he’s been looking forward to meeting you ever since I told him about you."

"You've mentioned. But I'm still so tensed and I can't help it! What if he doesn't like me?"

"Alright, come here," she put up the armrest between us and motioned for me to move in closer to her. I scooched over as she wrapped a comforting arm around my shoulder. I rested my head on her shoulder and I instantly relaxed into her embrace, feeling some of the nervousness ebb away. "Do you want me to tell you another story?"

I looked up at her gave her an involuntary smile. She always did this whenever I was feeling scared or nervous or down. It was her way of taking things off my mind and putting me at ease.

"Yes, please."

"What would you like to hear about? Work? Family?"

"Tell me something about your family. I wanna know more about your dad."

"I know exactly which story to tell you," she said with a fond smile, reminiscing.

She jumped right into it, her soothing voice was like music to my ears, calming me and easing my worries. She explained the things her dad would do to cheer her and her sister up if they were crying when they were younger. How he'd make silly faces and tell them jokes. And if that didn't work, he'd pretend to be clumsy and hurt himself. And if that didn't work, he'd act upset himself and that always seemed to do the trick. When he pretended to be sad and crying, his daughters would forget their own sorrows and tend to his needs.

"Aww, that's so adorable," I commented as she told me the story.

"It was," she laughed. "There was once where even that didn't work on my sister so he thought he'd surprise her. He painted his face white with his nose and mouth red. He said he was supposed to be a clown but when he came out of the room, my sister got even more upset and started crying harder 'cuz she thought she saw a ghost!"

I laughed along with her. "Oh no! Your poor sister!"

"My dad learnt his lesson after that," she chuckled and continued to tell me more stories about him.

When Alana invited me to follow her on her trip to Indonesia a few weeks ago, my heart melted.

With her career, we could barely see each other and even when we did get the chance, we were lucky if she could spend the week with me. I spent days and nights longing to be by her side and I knew she felt the same. We would video call as often as possible but it still wasn't the same as being able to hold her in my arms and kiss her and tell her how much I loved her.

So when she invited me along saying she wanted me to meet her father, the thrill that coursed through my body was enough to make me bounce off the walls of my room even though I was anxious to meet her dad. I was also excited that she was sharing a part of her with me. When I told Damien I was going on a trip with Alana, his brows shot up so high and fast I thought they were gonna leave his face.

"As far as I knew, she's never invited anyone she was seeing on a trip with her, let alone to Indonesia!"

I could still hear his words clearly in my mind. They made me blush when I first heard them and they still did now. The thought that I was the only one she was willing and comfortable enough to share this personal part of her life with made my heart swell.

I knew Alana wasn't one for outright verbal affection. She still wasn't used to being romantically involved with someone who was in it for the long run but everything she did told me everything I needed to know and I thought it was really sweet that she had her own way of expressing her love. From the way she would hold my hand tighter when we were walking down a dark street to the way she would sigh and relax in my arms as we hugged after finally seeing each other after months in the airport. I could tell what she meant behind every action.  And now to this; sitting beside Alana with her arms wrapped around me on a flight with her, telling me stories from when she was younger.

I smiled at the thought and snuggled in closer to her, enjoying her warmth as we settled in for the rest of the flight. Eventually, her stories turned into lullabies and I fell asleep in her comforting embrace.

I was awakened by Alana's gentle voice cooing in my ear. "Wake up sleepyhead, we're here."

I opened my eyes to discover our entangled bodies covered by a blanket. She must have thrown it over us when I was sleeping.

"Good morning," I yawned.

"It's almost 4 p.m. but yeah, good morning to you too," she replied with a laugh.

We got off the plane and from the airport, we took a cab straight to Alana's dad's house. We were supposed to be staying at Alana's aunt's beach house again but I could tell Alana missed her dad sorely and wanted to see him as soon as possible.

When we reached his doorsteps, my palms felt clammy and a million thoughts were running through my head. What if we didn't get along? What if he didn't approve of me seeing his daughter?

Alana took my hand from beside me and gave me a kiss on the cheek. She whispered into my ear, "You've got this, sayang." I shiver ran down my spine from her warm breath tickling my ear and warmth spread through my body from the term of endearment.

She unlocked the door and we walked into the house, hand-in-hand. The house was dark and quiet.

"Ayah? Aku dah pulang!" She called out into the silence.

Suddenly, the lights turned on and we were greeted to the sight of balloons and streamers everywhere. In the middle of the colourful display was a man who looked to be in his 60's. He had the hugest grin I'd ever seen and his arms we stretched open.

"Selamat pulang, putriku!" he exclaimed and Alana immediately rushed into his arms.

"Ayah! I've missed you so much," she muttered and held him onto him tight.

"I've missed you too," he said and reciprocated his daughter's gesture.

When Alana finally pulled back, she took his right hand in hers and bent down as she brought it to her forehead. I recognised this as a respectful greeting to one’s elders. She returned to my side and intertwined our fingers once again.

"Ayah, this is Kai. Kai, my dad," she introduced and stuck my hand out to shake his hand.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Kusuma," I said, trying to sound confident but I even I could hear the slight tremble in my voice.

He probably did too 'cuz he laughed while accepting my hand and I hoped my palms weren't too sweaty.

"So you're the woman that's got my Alana wrapped around your finger!" He pulled his hand away and touched his chest over his heart.

"Ayah," she groaned. "Please, no."

Mr. Kusuma just laughed and carried on, ignoring his daughter's plead. "Whenever we talk, she just goes on and on about you"

"She does?" I croaked.

"Of course! If that isn't proof enough, she's never brought anyone to meet me. I always ask her if she's seeing anyone but she always says it's nothing important."

"Oh!" was all I could muster to get out but my insides went haywire. My heart slammed against my chest in love and affection. Words could not explained how touched and grateful I was to be the one that Alana brought home to her dad.

I was still trying to process my overwhelming feelings when I turned to look at Alana only to find her face buried in her hand in embarrassment.

"Ugh!"

I giggled and placed my hand on her back. "No need to be shy, I think it's really sweet."

"I am not sweet," she said, glaring at me which only made me laugh harder.

"Sure you aren't."

I was gonna give her a kiss when I remembered her dad was still watching us. Would it be weird? Uncomfortable? Disrespectful? So I settled for a hug instead at the last minute.

Nothing missed pass Mr. Kusuma's attention 'cuz I saw him chuckle at my awkwardness.

"I appreciate the effort," he said. "But I don't mind you kissing my daughter. I just want to know she's loved."

"She is," I replied immediately without hesitation and saw Alana's face soften.

"Then that's all I ask for."

He motioned for us to sit at his dining table and as we took our seats, he started placing different dishes on dishes on the table from the kitchen. "You both must be hungry after that long trip."

"Ayah! Did you cook all of this?"

"Of course I did! You said you missed my cooking so I cooked your favourite."

"But they're all my favourite."

"Exactly!"

"You really didn't have to, this is too much!" she protested but I could tell she was excited to dig into her dad's homemade meals.

"Ah!" He shook his hand and head at her. "Putri, you complain too much! Just eat!"

Alana served me a little of everything on the table, explaining what each dish was. Every bite I took exploded with flavour.

"This is amazing, Mr. Kusuma!"

"Oh I know," he agreed playfully. "But thank you anyway."

After a couple of minutes, the part I was dreading the most arrived. Alana's dad cleared his throat and opened his mouth to say, "I hope you really impress me by the end of the day. I want to know what Alana sees in you."

"Ayah!" she exclaimed. "Don't be rude!"

"It's fine," I reassured in a nervous chuckle even though my stomach was a rollercoaster. I placed my hand on her thigh to reassure her. "I can't blame a father for wanting the best for his daughter."

Mr. Kusuma raised his brows. "So you know how to play your cards right, hmm? You get a point."

I couldn't help but let out a genuine laugh. As intimidating as this whole situation was, he definitely lightened the mood despite him being the one making me nervous.

"So, Alana has never told me and I'm curious to know, how did you both meet?"

I looked at Alana and Alana looked at me. She cleared her throat. We could tell the other was thinking of all the trouble and danger we got into when we first met.

And there's no way in hell we could tell him that.

"Well, we met... on a flight..." I started, a little unsure. We didn't discuss the details of how we 'met'.

"Right, cuz I was working on her flight," Alana added on.

"Ah, I see. Where were you going?"

From the corner of my eye, I could see Alana looking at me. We were both unsure how to answer.

"Mexico."

"Canada."

We said simultaneously, causing him to give us a puzzled look.

"It was a flight from Mexico to Canada," Alana quickly explained.

"What were you doing on a flight from Mexico to Canada, if you don't mind me asking," he directed to me.

"Oh, uh, I was in Mexico for a holiday."

"And she was on her way to Canada to visit her family," Alana said to help me out.

"Yes, right, 'cuz I have family in Canada."

I think I was being a little obvious 'cuz I felt Alana kick me a bit too hard under the table which caused me to whimper and I clutched my leg.

"Ow!"

"What's wrong? Her dad asked.

"Oh, nothing, nothing, I just... had a sudden leg cramp."

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry about me," I shot Alana a quick glare and I saw her mouth 'Sorry!'. Her hand shot to my leg, massaging the sore area.

"Who talked to who first?"

"I did!" I quickly responded in case Alana had a different answer in mind. "I saw this gorgeous air stewardess on my flight and I thought I'd be a fool to not at least try to talk to her."

"I knew there was something special when I first saw Kai. And maybe it was 'cuz she was being extremely nice to me compared to the rest of her fr-" she caught herself before she could say it. "Fellow passengers, but I knew I had to get to know her better."

He looked at us, hard and long as we held out breaths, wondering if he bought our lie. Alana's hand searched for mine and gripped it.

After what felt like ages, he broke into a grin and we exhaled in relief.

"I'm glad you found each other," he said honestly.

"Me too," I heard Alana respond and stroked my hand with her thumb, leaving goosebumps in it's wake.

"Speaking of, how is work, putri?"

"It's good."

"You always say that, tell me more! I need to have something to brag about the next time I see my friends," he joked, laughing.

Alana laughed along but I could he was unsure how to respond so I chimed in, trying to bend the truth as much as possible.

"Alana is really passionate about her job," I helped her out. "She's always so excited to go on her next... trips."

She nodded. "I am, but I always miss you too," she said in a soft voice and I knew that was the complete truth, not a show we were putting on for her father.

I felt my cheeks heat up. "I miss you so much too, but I love getting small souvenirs and postcards from you." I turned my attention back to Mr. Kusuma. "Alana always sends me letters and postcards telling me about all the crazy things that happens on her trips."

That was true too. A few days or weeks after her leaving, I'd always get mail from her without fail. It was sweet of her to keep sending me stuff and I really appreciated and looked forward to them. Text messages just weren't the same as getting a physical note from her that she’s held and written on. It also brought me an immense amount of comfort during her missions where she isn't allowed to carry a phone on her. It was the only way I knew she was safe and I knew it was her way of letting me know she was alright to ease my worries.

"I always start worrying as she steps foot on any plane," I admitted earnestly. Her hand was already in mine but I brought my other hand to cover our interlocked ones, cradling her hand on my lap, remembering my promise to her years ago when I said goodbye to her for the first time at the airport. "But at the end of the day, I'm so proud of my airline stewardess girlfriend and I wouldn't change a thing."

I looked at Alana and grinned an honest, sincere smile. She glanced at me fondly, her brown eyes soft and tender.

"Thank you, babe."

"I have to know," Mr. Kusuma started again and I stared at him intently. "You love my daughter, yes?"

"Definitely! More than anything in the world," I nodded profusely.

"Why?"

I looked at him perplexed. "Why I love Alana?"

He simply just gave me a single nod.

I let out a snow breath. "I don't even know where to begin." I looked at her and she gave me a small smile which was all the encouragement I needed to carry on.

I smiled back and continued. "I love that she's always got my back even if she's not with me. That she always finds a way to cheer me up when I'm upset. I love the way her eyes light up with excitement when she's talking about something she's passionate about. I love seeing her face first thing in the morning and the last thing I see before I go to bed."

I subconsciously I turned to face her, no longer speaking to her father.

"I love how she's the most caring and affectionate person I know even though she doesn't always say it or wants to admit it." I smiled, gazing into her eyes, trying to convey the how honest every word I said was. I've never told her any of this but I meant it. And what better time to confess it than now, in front of her dad. I wanted to show her I wasn't embarrass to love her 'cuz I wasn't. And if I could shout it from the rooftops, I would.

"She's the most amazing person I've ever met and I've always admired how she's do anything to protect the people she loves. And above all, I love how happy she makes me. Seeing a message from her makes me feel invincible, as if nothing could ruin my day. I just want to be able to return that feeling for her and make her happy because I love her."

I kissed her hand. "I love you, Alana Kusuma."

Her eyes were shining with tears. I knew she was trying to hold them back. I brought my hand to cup the side of her face and ran my thumb under her eyes, wiping them away.

"I love you too, sayang," she whispered and leaned into my touch.

I turned back to her dad to find him beaming.

"Well, Kai, you won me over."

Alana laughers, wiping her own tears. "That was quick."

"I can tell she means it," he replied. "What kind of father would I be to scrutinise someone who loves my daughter?"

Alana stood up abruptly and walked over to her father and gave him a big hug.

"Terima kasih," I could hear her whisper.

For the rest of the evening, we ate as Alana's dad told me embarrassing stories about his daughters, Alana especially, of course. We would laugh and she'd groan and protest, hiding her face behind her hands but I saw her fighting a smile ever so often.

By the time we were done, it was late and as we headed out the door, Mr. Kusuma stopped me.

"Go on, I'll be with you soon," I told Alana.

She eyed both of us suspiciously but complied.

"Okay," he said. "I don't know what Alana actually does or if she's actually an airline stewardess. She's always been hard-headed," I opened my mouth to defend her but he stopped me. "Don't tell me if I'm right or wrong, I don't think I can handle the truth." He paused and looked me in the eyes. "But regardless of what she does, I'm so proud of her and as a father, I always worry. So what I need you to do is promise me that you'll look after her. Take care of her, please."

"I understand what you mean, but she's capable of taking care of herself."

"I know, I raised her,"  he said with pride, smiling. "But even the most capable people need someone to look out for them and I've never seen Alana open up to anyone the way she has to you. Aside from me of course," he laughed. "You mean something special to her, Kai. She trusts you and it'll put me at ease to know she's not alone."

"Of course, sir," I replied. "She means a lot to me too and I would never do anything to let her feel like she isn't. I promise I will, I've always been there for her and I'm not planning on changing anything. It would be stupid of me to leave."

"I'm glad you think so," he teased. "Thank you, Kai."

We met Alana outside where our taxi was already waiting for us. She gave her dad a big hug, promising that she'll be back soon.

"Jangan terlalu lama," he replied into her hair.

When they pulled back, he stretched out to shake my hand again.

"It was nice meeting you, Mr. Kusuma."

"Aku harap yang terbaik untukmu berdua," he said to us.

Alana gave him one final kiss on the cheek before we entered the cab. We waved him good bye as the car drove away. She gave me a soft kiss on the cheek and rested her head on my shoulder, sighing.

"You alright?" I asked, concerned. I wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her closer to me.

"I had two of the most important people in my life under the same roof."

She closed her eyes and smiled.

"I've never felt better."

(More fics!)

~*~*~

Translation:

sayang - love/dear

ayah - dad

aku dah pulang - I’m home

selamat pulang - welcome home

putriku - my princess/my daughter

putri - princess/daughter

terima kasih - thank you

jangan terlalu lama - don’t be too long

aku harap yang terbaik untukmu berdua - I wish the best for both of you

[bailspogue]

𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑

( 𝑗𝑗 𝑚𝑎𝑦𝑏𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 )

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦. ─── Surfing had always been something you had enjoyed especially with your boys however one of them gets hurt and the hospital might just be the next best thing much to someone’s dismay.

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠. ─── mentions of blood and swearing

𝑟𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑑. ───  yes

              Reefs of coral had always been a beautiful thought to you — their vibrant arrays of colour decorating the daunting abysses of the North Atlantic Ocean bringing a sense of vigorous life with them. However — once in a while did those beautiful exhibitions within the shallow waters of the paradise that were the Outer Banks brought their vengeance along the shores.

❛ It's just a scratch. ❜    JJ declared — he observed how your hands had neglected their fastened hold upon his left upper arm whereas his blood had begun to drench your shirt perhaps it had been indeed more than a mere scratch as he had initially thought. He had noticed how the blood had transferred amongst the palms of your hands varnishing the borders of the bed

              ❛ This is all bullshit. ❜    He added an apparent aggravation laced amongst his words — a scoff surpassed his lips accompanied by one of the eye rolls that become infamously associated with JJ Maybank. You could only mimick his antics in distress when your hands had prevailed steadily settled upon the borders of the hospital bed he had patiently remained waiting in much to his own dismay.

              ❛ Shut up. ❜     You had muttered to him — your voice low and hushed although a threatening tone remained when he opened his mouth to contradict you once more.    ❛ Keep your fucking mouth shut. ❜ 

❛ Do not listen to him, Miss. ❜     You persevered — leaning back slightly you had crossed your arms in an attempt to come off as stern however your courteous smile brought a sense of childish innocence to your beautiful features while you spoke to the nurse stood before the pair of teenagers that had loudly hurried inside the hospital arguing the entirety of their way throughout the neatly polished hallways.

              ❛ He just wants to sound tough. ❜    JJ scoffed once more at your words — he grimaced ever so insignificantly as he would endeavour to adjust his posture within the hospital bed. Those light blue eyes of his following your form with curiosity hidden beneath their stormy surfaces — you had begun to recite the entire occurrence to the woman stood beside you who could only nod along with your antics as you continued your monologue of how he should have known better than to surf within the shallow waters.

❛ This one just has a flair for drama. ❜    He asserted — the pettiest of grins curving the edges of his busted lips. He lived for the seething glances you had brought upon his form — only fueling into his antics more all while you hopelessly attempted to remain a somewhat calm stance beside the nurse. 

❛ Are you fucking serious? ❜    Restlessly you had hurried to stand beside him once more his eyes softened ever so slightly at the sight of your state of annoyance — a mischievous smile adorning his handsome features while he elevated his head to engage your infuriated glare with a reassuringly taunting wink of his own.

              ❛ My car looks like a crime scene. ❜    You stated — eyes widening slightly at his previous statement before that very same forced politeness overtook your features once more describing your circumstances to the nurse extensively detailed.

❛ Exactly my point. ❜    His words held a feigned sense of entitlement amongst them that infamously taunting tone disinterred within his response — his hand too steadily reached out towards you to additionally emphasise along with his previously apprising words.

              ❛ Dramatic. ❜    

❛ Oh, go fuck yourself. ❜    Bellowing underneath your breath — you had finally allowed yourself to catch a breath acknowledging the perhaps unwarrantedly agitated responses to him. Managing stressful situations ought never to have been a strength of yours — especially not with someone who had entertained your thoughts for so very long.

              You could no longer withdraw the sense adoring that had prevailed the corners of your lips to transform into an unwavering smile amongst the many thoughts of him that ensued within her admiring subconscious once more — eyes wandering amongst the bruises that devised their very own patterns across the delicacy of his blemished skin every detail of him had you mesmerised and falling ever so easily.

❛ Are you checking me out? ❜     He sought an answer within her softening eyes —  the adoration hidden beneath them brought him a discernment of overwhelming ardour seething his skin where yours had touched his so thoughtlessly.

              ❛ Bet you love the attention. ❜     Your heart fluttered at his words flustered you laughed along with him. Your heart ached to watch him recoil at the vaguest of movements — How you had wished he had listened to you to be avoidant of the shallow waters. 

❛ I do. ❜     Those striking blue eyes of JJ Maybank found yours he wanted you to know how much he truly appreciated you — however such a thing did not belong with the nature of him instead that infamous troublesome grin unfolded along with the words he so tauntingly uttered when his glance lowered to the laceration tormenting his upper arm.   ❛ You could've just kissed it better though. ❜

              ❛ It wasn't even that bad. ❜    JJ defended himself — he too had found his actions justified.

❛ My god! ❜    The tone of your voice had lowered threateningly so. You were seething with anger at how he could simply not understand the severity of the situation even making light of it which did not sit well with you at all — it was frustrating, to say the least.  ❛ Not bad?  ❜ 

              ❛ Dude, look at my fucking shirt. ❜    Your fingers sauntered along with the saturated material — the remains of a shirt you had loved so dearly ceaselessly discoloured brought a sense of melancholy with it before you too fell down upon the hospital bed an exasperated exhalation departing from your lips before your eyes met those shamelessly devious ones of JJ Maybank.

❛ I'm fucking pissed. ❜    You cursed at him once more — the feeble material falling from in between the gentle grasp of your blood-stained fingers.   ❛ This isn't funny. ❜

              ❛ Why not though? ❜    

❛ Because I fucking care. ❜    You indicated — the slightest hesitation in your words had been drowned out amongst the rising volume of your voice. 

              ❛ About the shirt? ❜   He laughed in disbelief — his eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly while a frown formed upon his features. Watching you breathe out in annoyance closing your eyes momentarily to regain your composure once more — How he could drive you absolutely insane was something he would never disregard. 

❛ About you and if I didn't you would be dead by now. ❜    Your concerned words brought him to a smile once more — neglecting the pain that was brought on by the injury to meet your fiercely endearing eyes. Reluctantly those wounded fingers of his sought their conselation within the affectionate warmth of yours — intertwined amongst your loving embrace.

              ❛  Still no kiss? ❜   

[x0401x]

Hi there! Just want to thank you so much for translating for the VE fandom! I've been looking through your VE posts and noticed you mentioned how anime!Gil is completely different from LN!Gil. I agree with you and was wholeheartedly disappointed in the anime. I was hoping you could elaborate more on your thoughts, where you thought anime!Gil and anime!Violet went wrong and how they were different from the anime. Sorry if you've already made a post on this previously. Thanks again!

Hi! You’re welcome!

This reply took me long enough, lol. I haven’t gone too much into detail, or else I’d just end up writing a bible. It still turned out long as hell, though, so I’ve put it under a cut.

I really didn’t know how to begin with this. “Where they went wrong” kinda implies that those two were going right until some point, and that’s just… not the case. They were a trainwreck from start to finish. And it’s kind of impossible to really discuss this without touching upon the massive fails in the writing of the entire show. It does try to convey important messages to the viewers, but mostly with visuals and repetitive lines, never with the actual plot or the characters. You get an inkling of what the story was attempting to do with them, and that initial idea is what seems to stay with most people, because there’s nearly nothing beyond it.

As director Ishidate has stated more than once before, he made changes to the story because he thought the novel was, in his words, “too orthodox”. But watering it down meant watering the characters down too, Gil and Violet more than anyone else. And this results in a show that ironically fails to grasp its own themes and cast — the personalities and conflicts get lost in the details and have to be patched up with excuses that end up displaying how little the show trusts its own audience. It keeps spelling out plot devices and character traits in an almost robotic manner, with very scarce effort put into actually showcasing them in the situations and dialogues. Everyone is too one-dimensional and the main plot line is repeated over and over instead of being alluded in parallels or even just slightly more intelligent exchanges. Animators like Ishidate have grown dangerously used to committing a grave narrative suicide: to give vague and unconvincing reasons for things to be the way they are and expect the audience to take it all as is simply because it was stated there. Everything is oversimplified because they clearly want the viewers to get invested in the emotional baggage of the show, and only the emotional baggage, because they think that’s all we get invested on. They forget that details are necessary for the whole experience.

These problems are recurrent in Violet and Gil, and they never stop. I’ll start with Gil, since he was mentioned first.

Gilbert Bougainvillea is a very complex, humane and multi-faceted character in the novel. What’s interesting is that he doesn’t look like it at first, so he surprised many readers in volume 1 with how caring and endearing he can be. And I mean caring for real. Anime!Gil seemed like a poor excuse for what he was supposed to represent, which in turn made him into a walking contradiction. In the novel, Gil is by far the person that emphasizes the most with Violet, because the two of them are two sides of the same coin. This is where the anime falls short most frequently. They at first look like polar-opposites, but are absolutely not, yet the show portrays them as such. Novel!Gil is gratuitously kind and righteous, and he’s brave and pure-hearted enough to stand by his values no matter what. He’s used to giving up everything for the sake of other people, but he has morals that he holds to the roots of his very being, so he always chooses to donate himself to what he deems as good causes. And once he has his mind set on an objective, he doesn’t mind playing dirty to achieve it, as long as he’s not hurting anyone. That’s exactly the same as Violet, and Gil isn’t the only one who sees himself in her — Hodgins and Dietfried also notice how alike the two are. Novel!Gil relates to Violet on a spiritual level, and he knows first-hand how she must feel. He’s been there and done that. And that’s why she’s his number one priority. His purpose in life is to protect her and keep her in a healthy lifestyle within a blessed working environment and a loving family. Quite literally, all he wants is to make sure that she’s happy, and he’s active and vocal about it. He’s also an unapologetic and unabashed feminist, so he completely approves of her doing anything for a living — she doesn’t need to live her life like an ordinary woman and whatever she wants for herself is fine, as long as it’s not too dangerous.

Apparently, his personality is one of the book aspects that Ishidate believed to be “too orthodox”. He depicts Gil the way you’d expect any male creator to depict a man — a brooding martyr figure who only has a heart of gold in fleeting moments that get replayed again and again in flashbacks to serve as justification for Violet’s undying love. He makes very little strides and there’s a lot of flawed reasoning behind his affection that makes it oddly disconnected, which is the fact that said affection is barely ever there. Gil hardly treats Violet like a person, let alone an equal. Violet is ready to give her life for him anytime, and as we see in the last battle at Intense, he’s ready to cling onto that to save his own life. Ishidate doesn’t shy away from making very evident that he thinks it’s okay for Gil to do only the minimum to earn Violet’s respect and trust, like it’s a given and all he’s required in order to earn her love is to exist. This is very visible in scenes like the one where they first met. Gil seems to shield Violet from the abuse of his brother, but shows next to no distress or even interest over it as he doesn’t even question where she came from or why Dietfried was treating her that way. There’s also the scene where he takes her to one of his family’s residences, and she has his jacket on, just like in the novel… yet he’s letting her walk barefoot in the snow without giving a single flying fuck. He then leaves her side as soon as he instructs the maid what to do with her, not looking back. I also hate that scene where he gets back home and she bumps into him and falls on her butt. He just stares at her and makes no effort to help her back up. But the one I hate the most is that festival scene where he nearly thanks Violet for fighting so well in battle. I mean, she’s killing people for him. She, a literal child, is in the frontlines of a long-lasting war, risking her life and committing mass murder for his sake. That’s literally nothing to be grateful for. Especially not when he’s supposed to love her. And I despise that he only stopped himself from finishing the phrase because he noticed the bruises on her.

Another major defect of the anime was changing Gil’s backstory. Anime!Gil was, by the looks of it, just a rich kid who enlisted simply because that’s the family tradition. And if you take away Gil’s backstory, you take away the viewers’ reason to empathize with him. Why? Because that means he’s morphed into someone who can make choices. Erase any factor that binds Gil to doing what his family and his superiors make him do, and what you have is a grown man with his free will intact. And he uses none of it to help Violet. Anime!Gil was always given the opportunity to say no. He could’ve said no to Dietfried and sent Violet straight to the Evergardens, he could’ve said no to his superior officer and not taken her into the military, or he could’ve at least said no to assigning her to the men’s troops. He didn’t because there would be no story otherwise. Novel!Gil is always attempting to save Violet from the war and from herself, while anime!Gil’s actions beg to differ. And so, anime!Violet’s obsession with Gil stems from the fact that he was the first to treat her remotely like a human being and that, for a long time, he was all she had. None of that fate thing, because it’s also “too orthodox”. But without the fate element and without Gil having no control whatsoever over how he feels about Violet, he’s straight-up a pedophile. If he feels regular romantic love for Violet, who is in her mid-teens, that’s pedophilia right there. This one is my biggest beef with anime!Gil, and I don’t take criticism for it.

Now Violet. Not to be rude, but I see so many people talk about how interesting her anime counterpart is, yet I rarely ever see anyone going in-depth on it. It’s like the way the fans talks about the show. Literally every single person who comments that they liked it always says the exact same thing: “I cried during every episode”. I sort of feel like most of them are just reproducing what they see other people say out there, which is probably what got them interested in watching it in the first place. I don’t mean this with ill-intent; it’s just seriously the impression I get from looking at the tag. I’ve accompanied it since the novel came out all the way back in 2015, and when the show was running, believe it or not, I didn’t really see much of those comments. It started becoming a habit to say it after episode 10, which seems to be the highest-rating episode (the irony being that it was the closest the anime ever got to the novels). Hence why it feels to me like some people just say it on automatic, and I get the same vibe from the fans of anime!Violet.

I’ll just be blunt here: the main difference between anime!Violet and canon!Violet is that canon!Violet was made to be liked by girls and women, and anime!Violet was made to be liked by men. I have already said this before, but Violet is the very definition of independent professional woman in the novel. She’s educated, confident, strong, reliable, altruistic and overall well-versed in at least a little bit of everything. Half of it is due to luck and half of it is her own merits, but all in all, she was created not just to be relatable but also a character that people could look up to. Meanwhile, anime!Violet was clearly made to be waifubait.

I can’t really stress how little thought was actually put into her portrayal and development. We never truly see her internalizing the lessons that she supposedly learns in each of the self-contained episodes. We only ever witness her displaying sudden significant hints of emotion at convenient times, paired to her either repeating what she was told earlier by one of the characters or taking an extremely obvious conclusion to a question that was already half-answered by someone else. Because of this, Violet’s growth process has an unsteady pacing in the anime and mostly feels disjointed. In comparison, novel!Violet is usually not the point of view — she’s often in the role of observer, and we notice through the solutions she comes up with for her clients’ issues that she does have a very humane connection with them. We also notice through the clients’ opinions on Violet that she shows subtle changes at certain specific points, such as smiling just a little when she manages to not only accomplish her duties but also help solve their problems. This makes her more real and believable because, unlike the anime, it presents no abrupt alteration to the essence of her person. She’s growing in her own way, but it’s still easy to tell. It’s also very clever to have Violet be disliked or misunderstood by her clients at first because she’s so aloof and apathetic-looking, but then she grows on them after they actually understand her, and the readers can absorb that from them. I’ve seen many people complain that they can’t really empathize with anime!Violet, but in the novel, the author takes care not to let this happen, and it really doesn’t.

What upsets me the most is that anime!Violet is overly infantilized. We all know that director Ishidate loves her like a father loves a daughter; it’s been said by himself and his colleagues quite a lot. That’s cute and all, but it made her depiction extremely shallow. The biggest problem was making her 14 in the anime. I still struggle to understand what would’ve been so bad with keeping her as a 17-year-old. Sum that up with removing many of her merits and adding forceful childish traits, such as being okay with changing clothes anywhere in front of anyone or pouting when she’s frustrated, and you have the perfect recipe of what waifu junkies like to be spoon-fed with. In my opinion, anime!Violet was a downgraded tragic heroine played in a cheap and boring way to attract tearjerker lovers.

I hope this has covered enough of my take on the matter. ✌️

[queerpontmercy]

pick four characters and then roll a d4 for each of these numbers to determine which char to answer for: 1 4 5 6 17 22 24 26 39 27 51 57 60

tumblr did me so dirty but I finally got all of these in one doc, thank you <3 I decided to alternate between my Beam Saber pilots for character #4, so we have Solace “Trash Panda“ Altiora the infiltrator, and Dr. Finch Tandem, the officer/cat herder. Put under a cut because fuck this is so long...

What does Solace typically keep in his pockets?

I rolled a 3 for Leucien, but I already described his pockets, so...Solace is messy and generally keeps a tube of lipstick within easy reach, which means inevitably he’s also got a few tissues stuffed in a pocket from the last time he had to apply blot it. Other than that, he always has at least one knife on him, and that could feasibly be in a pocket. No, he’s not just happy to see you. 

Other than that, you know he’d never tell but honestly? I think he keeps his old prayer beads on his person, despite having left the Cenotaph both physically and spiritually. There’s something grounding about them: something organic in a world full of unforgiving machinery and vastly unknowable AIs, perhaps. It’s still soothing. Shut up. 

4. If Tanith was a work of art, how would you describe her?

This is such an interesting question for Tanith-- the most important bit for her would be that it’s something functional and beautiful, made lovelier still by use. A well-loved sea shanty with lyrics that keep time out on the water, a handsome medicine chest with fanciful carvings of beasts on each wooden panel…oooooh maybe a set of three nesting clay pots/jars! The first one is big and solid, rough gray-green with a fitted lid and decorations like barnacles and limpets, and below that is one with blue and brown glazes, pooling and mixing into each other, and the last (smallest) one is delicate and porcelain, almost opalescent from within where the light hits it, with the most simple, graceful curved shape It’s meant to house something rare and precious. 

5. How does Tanith express she’s comfortable?

She doesn’t like to sit in her emotions or thoughts, and spends a lot of time trying to transmute them into practical action. You’d know she’s comfortable if she let herself be still, taking in the world with quiet acceptance, and told you what was on her mind-- what she saw, or remembered, or was thinking about, without worry, just being. 

6. How does Fen express that they’re uncomfortable?

Fenestra argues about stupid shit-- pedantry in particular is such a refuge. Having a hill to die on helps her feel slightly in control, since feeling powerless is definitely one of the things that makes her most uncomfortable. She’d never admit to it, but it’s also a way to knock Threats down a peg or two. 

17. Does Leucien swear? What’s his favorite phrase/word?

For sure, but since Leu is 3 feet tall, he almost certainly got the “ohhhh i had no idea, you’re so iiiiinnocent~” treatment after saying one (1) fuck word. I was tonight years old when I learned he’s partial to “oh balls,” which is decidedly not one of my (Sketch’s) phrases, but I guess it makes sense intrinsically? Most swear words are either profane, sexual, or insulting/derogatory. Gnomes in this campaign aren’t religious, culturally speaking, and he’s not the kind to start a fight. 

Now that means there’s actually a good chance that he has at least once, in a fit of extreme frustration, blurted out “Aerum’s b--” before very hastily correcting to “face, face, I was gonna say face.”

I’m shocked I have so much to say about this, but...he was an academic, and I also have a strong hunch that he had a terrible little pretentious phase where all his swear words came from Old Gnomish or Dwarvish or oooh, maybe languages his old friend Aza had picked up, but...at this point he reasons it’s better to say the things in Everendian/Common if you want people to know what you’re saying. 

22. What kind of person would Finch never side with?

Finch would never side with a landlord cop bully. Well, definitely not a landlord or cop either. But man, the kind of leader who throws their weight around for the sake of it and intimidates innocent people into carrying out their orders? They really, truly despise ‘em. And leaders who treat the individuals under their wing as pieces of a calculated risk rather than full people. They’d honestly rather die than become that kind of leader. 

24. What’s a controversial food opinion Leucien would have?

Pineapple on pizza is good actually you guys are just mean

Leu thinks the fact that there’s such a thing as “controversial food opinions” is fascinating. He’ll try anything once, so point-blank disregarding something as disgusting feels like snobbery to him. And even badly-cooked food can tell you so much about the people who make it, so and that learning’s a pleasure in and of itself. 

26. What would Tanith want for her funeral?

In Tanith’s culture, dying orcs are dressed in burial clothes, shrouded, and left to make their “final voyage” on their own in quiet contemplation. She would uphold this tradition. Burial and scattering of ashes at sea are common, but I actually think Tanith might want to be buried at the “interfaith” shrine she established on the mainland post-campaign-- Ishka willing, to be its guardian and perhaps, in a way, guide the lost on their journeys after her death. 

She would certainly want her dear friends and party members to speak in her memory at a ceremony, especially Cae and Avris, who saw her through so much. Nothing prepared. Just what comes from the heart in the moment. Perhaps she has also transcribed an old Orcish lullaby for her beloved Anya to play at the end, with the music drifting through the air and quietly dissipating, like sea foam as it hits the shore. 

27. If they were a ghost, how would Solace haunt in the afterlife?

Solace would be such a chaotic asshole ghost but he’d have the time of his (after)life. He already has such a great time being a local cryptid as it is, convincing people that an abandoned amusement park or shopping mall might be haunted. It’d be even worse in death. The thing is, if he was a ghost and knew nothing could hurt him, he’d be even more unsubtle, he’d really want to see the impact of his tricks and shenanigans for once after a lifetime or lurking. 

39. What does Finch believe their party lacks?

Finch knows that their squad has each other’s backs in the practical way-- they’ve seen teammates trauma out or take major damage protecting each other. But they think that what the Intrepid is missing is emotional vulnerability, and it’s important? If we’re not honest with ourselves, how can we be honest with each other? It keeps them up at night sometimes. 

51. What makes Tanith a hypocrite?

She’ll forgive everyone except herself, obviously. Since she was able to get some closure with her ex Kleiya, who didn’t die but was transported to another plane, she hasn’t been nearly as consumed with guilt over who she used to be, but still? She’ll tell someone not to burn out all at once, she’ll tell someone they’re good just as they are, and never believe it herself. :/ 

57. How does the way Leucien acts seemingly contradict his ability scores?

FitD scores don’t translate as well, so...Leu it is! 

He’s got +3 charisma, but he’s the most awkward man in all of existence and can’t be normal for even two seconds. I actually don’t think it’s that contradictory; charisma is a force of personality, after all, and Leu’s got that. He became an object of cult worship in a matter of months, after all...But also I do think he’s got an endearing, bookish, understated charm, and hey, that’s a kind of charisma. D&D often makes charisma out to be the smooth-talking seduction stat, but I really enjoy when it can be more than that.

He’s also got decently high wisdom, but I’ve been playing him with small dog energy. We’ll figure it out, I suppose.

60. Who does Fenestra go to when she needs to bounce ideas off of someone?

Fenestra has a littol greyromantic wtf-is-this crush on Eli, another of the Oracle’s apprentices. :3 They have honed different ways of seeing the future. Fen captures big fragmented portents that don’t make sense until later, whereas Eli is a lot more scrupulous, and tends to focus on details and possibilities, mapping out the pieces of a butterfly effect. They really respect his different way of thinking; it’s been incredibly helpful, and if she were feeling mentally stuck Fen would go to him, no question. He’d listen.