#they hate to see a sad teen betray all her friends

[keepin-it-on-the-d-l]

Me playing a ttrpg character who’s a teenage girl with impulsive and slightly selfish tendencies knowing full well that if this were a podcast she’d be getting the Scary Marlowe™️ treatment

[matchingbatbites]

i thee wed

Teen | 2.9k | Female Steve Harrington

A very late submission for @steddie-week Day 5: Reunion/Getting back together, as well as @stevieweek Day 4: Special Outfit.

This fic is too short to be as late as it is, but alas. It was originally supposed to be just runaway bride Stevie showing up to Eddie's home in a huge wedding gown, but somehow Carol wheedled her way into the story, so.

Read on Ao3

Stevie’s mom is doing up the last of the buttons on her dress, each one tiny and pearlescent and perfect against the white lace fabric, when Robin walks up, clearly worried about something.

“Carol's here, and she's asking to talk to you,” she says quietly before Stevie can even ask what's wrong, and oh. She's been expecting this for a while - ever since Tommy proposed, really - but she didn't think Carol would wait until the day of the wedding to actually seek her out. “What do you want me to tell her?”

Stevie hums and thinks for a moment as they smooth out the skirt, as she steps into her heels which are as white and pristine as the rest of her outfit. “I'll talk to her. She deserves that much.”

Robin continues to frown but nods. “She’s in the back hall. I'll keep an eye on everyone here, but scream if you need anything.”

“I will. Thanks, Birdie.”

It's not hard to find Carol, leaning against one of the back walls in an outfit that's too casual to be appropriate for a wedding guest. Stevie still smiles as she approaches, and receives a small one in return. 

“Hi, Carol.”

“Hi, Steph. You look beautiful.”

Stevie huffs and fluffs the a-line skirt again. “Thanks. I'm kind of dying a little, if I'm being honest. I didn't realize how hot this thing would be.”

That earns her a chuckle, and Stevie feels a bit lighter- feels like this might be okay as she asks “So what can I do for you?”

Carol's expression drops, her entire being taking on an air of sadness that almost leaves Stevie breathless. She and Carol haven't really spoken in years, but it's still upsetting to see her so down.

“I'm here because- We were friends once, and I miss that. I miss you.”

Stevie can't stop herself from muttering an “I miss you too,” and Carol pushes herself off the wall. She takes Stevie’s hand in her own and starts to lead them down the hall, slow and meandering.

“You know, after everything went down, I thought I hated you. It felt like I'd been betrayed by two people I thought cared about me, two people I thought I could trust."

That hurts, even though Stevie knows it's true. Tommy and Carol had been together for years before- before. When they broke up it had been a big deal in their social circle. Stevie had honestly never planned on dating Tommy, but then the letter came, and Tommy asked her out, and- and she'd been so lonely.

"It took me a long time to realize that I had nothing against you at all; it was that Tommy dropped me the second he saw a chance to be with you. Just left me like our relationship meant absolutely nothing to him. After that it was pretty easy to come to terms with the fact that I was just a placeholder for Tommy while he waited for you."

She pauses and Stevie glances up to find Carol's sharp gaze locked on her, calculating but not quite cold. "Just like you're using him as a placeholder right now.”

“Tommy's not a placeholder-”

“Eddie's out of jail.”

Stevie freezes on the spot. Carol might as well have stabbed her with the pain that shoots through her chest, the ache that had dimmed in the last four years coming back with a fucking vengeance.

“What?”

“I ran into him last week. He got out a couple months ago. Tried to get in contact with you a few times.”

Steve swallows around nothing and reaches up to grab her necklace, something that only intensifies her pain as her brain screams that it's the wrong shape, that it's not right. 

“I don't know why. He already said everything he had to say to me, right in black and white.”

Carol tugs on her hand, guiding her down the hall once more. “See, I asked him about the letter, and he had no idea what I was talking about. He told me that he sent you dozens of letters, but none of them talked about him being done with you.”

Dozens? Stevie only ever got one letter from Eddie, a single page that ripped her heart to shreds, that crushed every dream she’d had about their life together. “What else did he say?” she can't help but ask, and Carol looks uncharacteristically disturbed.

“He said that Tommy and your parents have been working to keep him away from you. Steph, he said that your dad threatened him. Said that if Eddie did anything to ‘get in the way of your happiness’ that he'd make sure Eddie went back to prison and never came out again.”

Stevie stares at Carol, searching for any hint, any possibility that the woman is lying to her. Even after years apart, she can tell that Carol is telling the truth.

“Why are you telling me this?”

Carol's smile is a small, sad thing. “Like I said: we were friends, once. I want you to be happy, but more than that, you deserve to know the truth. Tommy being fucked over is just a bonus.”

She gestures to the side and Stevie looks over, out the glass door she hadn't noticed before, and sees a taxi waiting on the curb.

“That's the cab that brought me here. It's ready to take you anywhere you want to go.”

Stevie's heart lurches. She's supposed to be getting married in twenty minutes. Supposed to wear this dress she can't stand and walk down the aisle of a church she didn't choose and go to a reception that's going to be full of her parents' friends so they can show off their daughter's accomplishment.

If she was marrying the man she truly wanted, she might have been able to shove down her frustrations and just deal with it, but Tommy just isn't that man. She knows it in her heart, and when she looks at Carol, Stevie can tell that she knows it too.

And suddenly, none of it matters.

“They're gonna come looking for me.”

Carol smiles. “I'll tell them you stepped out for some air.”

Stevie is overcome by a sudden rush of affection, and she can't resist pulling her old friend into a hug. “I owe you one,” she says, and feels Carol shake her head.

“Consider it my apology for being such a bitch to you after Tommy dumped me.”

“Apology more than accepted.”

They pull apart and Stevie gives her one last smile before heading for the door.

She doesn't really remember the ride to the trailer park; it's all a blur up until the taxi slows to a stop in front of a place that Stevie used to think of as home. She thanks the driver who told her that Carol prepaid for her ride, and then climbs out.

Wayne's truck is out front, so at the very least she'll be able to apologize for not visiting anymore. She knows the man was hurting just as bad as she was when Eddie was put away, but after the letter, she hadn't even been able to look him in the face.

She knocks on the door and shifts in her heels as she waits. What if she’s too late to make things right? What if Carol really was lying and it was all just a means to get her away from the wedding, to ruin her life?

There's barely any time for her thoughts to spiral before the door swings open and she's suddenly face to face with Wayne, the man that she considered to be a better father to her than her own. He certainly seems surprised to see her, but before she can even begin to explain, he turns and calls out “Ed! You got a visitor!” 

Stevie reaches for the older man and tries an “I'm so sorry-” but he shakes his head and takes her hand in his own work-worn ones. 

“There'll be time for that later. I'll give you two some space for now.” He gives her hand a gentle pat before releasing it, grabs his truck keys, and heads out the door and down the steps.

Stevie hears a door open further in the trailer and steps inside just in time to see Eddie stepping into the hall, his sweatpants and tank top an extreme contrast to her lacy, fluffy wedding gown.

She's surprised to see that he's filled out a little, the lankiness he used to have now replaced with a sturdier, stronger frame, and his hair is the shortest she's ever seen it - a bit longer than buzzed now that he's been home for a little while. His eyes are the only thing that haven't changed, still the same deep pools of chocolate she remembers, although they're currently wide in surprise as he registers just who is before him.

“Stevie?”

Stevie gives a single broken “Eddie,” and then they're both moving. They meet in the middle of the tiny kitchen and cling to each other, hands and arms clutching tight like they're both worried the other will disappear if they let go. Stevie can hardly breathe through her sobs, can barely even take a breath with how her face is pressed into the skin of Eddie's neck. 

The man isn't much better- she can feel the way his fingers dig into the fabric of her dress, trying to haul her closer, like the millimeters of clothing between them is still too much distance. Stevie thinks her legs must give out because they sink to the floor, her skirt pooling around them as Eddie just holds her and mutters reassurances- “I've got you baby, I'm here. Never gonna let you go again, princess.”

She doesn't know how long it takes her to stop crying. It’s only when she can actually breathe again that she pulls back enough to cup Eddie's face, to run a hand over his short curls. “Your hair,” she says, smiling through the few tears that still escape her. The man gives her a watery smile and brushes a stray lock of hair away from her face.

“I can’t believe you’re talking about me while you’re over here looking like a Bridal Barbie or something.”

That makes her laugh, and she confesses “You don’t know how much I hate this dress. It’s so awful, Teddy.”

“Let me guess, your mom vetoed the slinky, sexy dress?”

“I thought she was going to have a heart attack right there at the bridal store when I walked out wearing it.”

Eddie shakes his head and rubs his thumb over her cheek. "That's too bad. I bet you looked like a fuckin' dream, sweetheart. Honestly, you still look like a dream, even in this cake topper gown."

Stevie laughs again, and it hits her all at once how much she still loves this man, how undeniably happy he makes her. In the last four years, no one has made her feel the way Eddie did, has even looked at her the way the way he is right now. Tommy only ever looked at her with desire, like a prize to be claimed and flaunted, and her parents never really looked at her at all unless she was doing something to make them look good.

Eddie though. He's always looked at her with wonder, like he can't even believe that he's allowed to be around her, much less have her for his own. She grabs his hands, holds them tight between them.

"I left Tommy at the altar," she says and Eddie's eyes go wide in shock.

"Oh, shit. What, uh. What made you change your mind?"

"Carol came to see me. Told me what you said about him and my parents, about the letter." She pauses and takes a deep breath as tears well up in her eyes again. "Eddie, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have trusted it blindly, I should have believed in you. I promise I was gonna wait for you, and if I'm too late-"

Eddie frowns and rubs a thumb over her knuckles "I told you a long time ago, sweetheart, I'm not going anywhere unless you tell me to. Honestly, when I found out you were engaged to Tommy, I thought that I was too late. Thought I'd fucked up too bad and you finally realized you could do better."

Stevie can't help but scoff at that. "Tommy is not better than you. He just- he was there, and he wanted me, and I- I didn't want to be alone anymore. I wanted someone to love me."

A soft, broken noise escapes Eddie and he tugs her into another hug. She goes willingly, clings to him as he shifts and pulls her into his lap.

"You won't be, baby. Now that I've got you, you won't ever be lonely again, not if I can help it."

"So you still love me?" Stevie asks, her voice wavering on the question that's been plaguing her for years, the question that she needs to know the answer to.

"Oh, sweetheart, of course I still love you. You're the girl of my fuckin' dreams, you know? I think I'm always gonna love you."

He loves her.

Eddie still loves her, and it's like something at the center of her being settles into place.

She pulls back just enough to kiss him, deep and desperate and everything she's wanted in the years that he's been gone. She pours every ounce of her feelings into it, her desire, her regret, and she feels like crying all over again as he returns it tenfold.

It feels like coming home, like she can finally relax because she knows Eddie has her, will always have her. He won't brush her off the way Tommy does, won't disregard her opinions or criticize her clothes or-

God, Tommy really was a piece of shit, wasn't he?

Stevie breaks the kiss but doesn't move, lets her lips brush against Eddie's as she says “Do me a favor, baby?”

“Anything, sweetheart.”

“Take me to the courthouse. Make me your wife, please."

Eddie frowns and moves back enough so he can look her in the eye. "Stevie, maybe we should take some time to think about this. I mean- I'm not the same guy you knew when I went away-"

"And I'm not the same girl. Hell, neither of us are those dumbass high schoolers that fell in love over a fucking history project. We've both grown, both changed. But Eddie, our years together were the happiest of my life, and I've gone through all of this wedding planning bullshit wishing I was marrying you instead."

Stevie moves a hand to the back of Eddie's neck and tugs until their foreheads are pressed together, and she can stare into endless pools of Eddie's eyes. "I wanna be your wife, Eddie. We can figure out everything else after.”

Eddie lets out a shuddering breath and nods, mutters a soft "Yeah, okay. I mean, can't say I haven't literally dreamed about it."

"Well, I think we should make some dreams come true, yeah?" She presses a quick kiss to his mouth, not letting it linger before she says "You gotta change though. As hot as you look right now, we can't get married while you're in sweatpants."

They're stopped outside the church by a red light on the way to the courthouse.

Stevie can't help but grin at the sight of people scattering from the building as Tommy stands on the front steps, his face tomato red as he throws what seems to be the mother of all tantrums. Stevie's father is yelling back at him, and her mother is off to the side looking absolutely distressed as Tommy's parents try to calm the two men down.

The van is in the far right lane, giving Stevie a perfect view of the chaos, and a thought crosses her mind. She rolls down the window and shifts until her torso is nearly hanging out of it, and she brings a hand up to her mouth. The whistle is loud enough to cut through the noise, and Tommy and her parents all turn to see her.

He barely gets out a "Steph?" before she chucks the ring he proposed with in his direction. It hits the sidewalk and bounces a couple of times, and she can see when the realization of what it is hits Tommy.

"What the fuck-" he starts, but doesn't finish. Stevie yells a "Fuck you, Hagan!" and flips him off as the light changes and Eddie starts to pull away. She lurches a bit as the van moves and she feels a steadying hand settle on her waist as Eddie cackles behind her.

Stevie settles back in her seat and rolls the window up, and looks over to see Eddie beaming like he just won the lottery. "I fuckin' love you, Stephanie Harrington," he says, and she smiles as their hands lace together.

"I love you too," she replies, wanting nothing more than to cross over the center console and plant herself in Eddie's lap. "And that'll be Stephanie Munson soon, if you can hurry the fuck up."

Eddie laughs again at that and brings their hands up so he can press a kiss to the heirloom ring he'd given her earlier. "Hang on, baby."

Stevie grins as she clings to him, and as the van speeds toward the center of town, she knows she'll hang on to him as long as she possibly can.

Divider Credit

[masquerade-of-misery]

Just some mental health rambling, because I need to let this out somewhere.

If you are sensitive to topics like depression and self-loathing, feel free to keep scrolling.

In the past pair of weeks I've been spiralling deeper into depression again.

A lot has been happening in my life which affect me badly. I feel trapped, hopeless, disappointed, miserable. About life, about myself, about people.

It feels like whenever something remotely good happens, I can start worrying when that good thing will end, when it will turn bad, or what kind of "punishment" life will give me for having a moment of peace and joy.

I've been keeping so much to myself. Even with my family, whom I'm the closest with, can't share certain things, because they just simply wouldn't understand. I have only one person "in real life" that shares my love for Twst and who I can really talk to about everything. We live together, and she's an immigrant living in my country. Every 5 years, the terror overwhelms us when it's time to reapply for her residence permit. We live in constant fear of losing each other, of her application getting rejected. We are each other's life support and have known each other for 10 years now. If that gets taken away... I don't even want to think about it.

My parents and brother always tell me I can share everything with them, and they are here for me no matter what. And I know that, but... I also know that they would never understand my love for Twst and my deep love for Lilia. They would just suggest I see a damn therapist.

They would like to see me in a happy romantic relationship, but I have lost all my interest in meeting people honestly. I have never been lucky with men, and don't think I ever will be. I've been betrayed and ghosted by friends countless times, so I'm tired of trying to form friendships as well.

Also, I have huge self-esteem issues. I hate everything about myself. Every part of my body, my voice, my clumsiness, my social awkwardness, my struggles with verbal communication, my stupid blushing for no reason... I hate it all. I see my reflection in the mirror and have to tear my eyes away from it, because I despise the person looking back at me.

Last weekend, I had to realize just how different my brother and I have become, too. We've always had a strong bond, we were like the "prepare for trouble and make it double" duo. We argued and fought a lot as kids and teens, but we always have been a strong unit. But last Saturday, it became clear that basically I cannot say anything he considers "negative", "hateful", or "complaining", because he will turn it into a goddamn lecture. And the way he tells you his opinion is so condescending as fuck and makes you feel like you are a stupid kid who knows no better and needs to be taught. Even if his intentions are good, he still comes across as... arrogant? Mocking? And then when I said something nice about someone, it basically made me a hypocrite? So, no matter if I cuss at a stranger under my breath or make a kind comment about them, it's a problem??

I don't even know what topics to talk about with him, because our views on life and people have become so vastly different. His heart would also shatter if he found out I don't want to become an aunt and deal with kids, even if they are related to me by blood.

So, I just shut the fuck up from now on and keep most of my thoughts to myself. Even here, on my own damn blog, I'm not sure if I'll find any understanding. People are so damn sensitive nowadays, you cannot express any "negative" thoughts, can't get angry or sad, because then you become "toxic" and "hateful".

And then everyone is surprised why there are so many depressed, lonely, miserable people who don't want to or cannot open up. Or worse, they reach the point where they off themselves.

I'm tired. I'm just so exhausted. Even sleep can't bring me full peace, because my brain just plagues me with disturbing, disgusting, or simply depressing or nonsensical dreams.

I can't see the man I love even in my dreams. I can't hug him, kiss him, laugh with him...

I don't see the point in anything anymore. I just want to disappear.

[yakool-foolio]

Phoenix Wright

Just gonna go off of what's listed on the shipping wiki, cause if I tried to rate every single pair with him with the amount of characters in these games we'd be here all month.

Phoenix x Iris: 8/10; very cute, me likey. Iris genuinely caring for Phoenix while pretending to be Dahlia is super sweet, and Phoenix instantly being able to tell the difference between Iris n Dahlia is concrete evidence he knows her like the back of his hand. While I personally don't see them dating again post-Bridge, they'd definitely stay good friends forever.

Phoenix x Mia: 4/10; can't imagine this relationship lasting very long before death knocks on their door, but the utter grief is suffocating. Their relationship would just be full of sadness on both ends; they'd probably date for a short time just to try to forget Mia losing Diego and Phoenix being betrayed by Dahlia. Romance as a coping mechanism.

Phoenix x Maya: 0/10; nuh uh, they're siblings to me. I refuse to see them in a romantic light personally, but it certainly isn't the end of the world if I come across it. I don't care what anyone else does, I just don't ship it in the slightest.

Phoenix x Dahlia: 4/10; only fun if it's one-sided. I wanna see either Dahlia silently hating Phoenix's guts as he boasts the pretty lil necklace she gave him, or Phoenix cursing under his breath at the thought of talking to Dahlia again while she's possessing Maya. I need them to be bitter or I shall turn my nose up at it.

Phoenix x Doug Swallow: 2/10; this is a thing apparently, according to the wiki. I mean, I can guess why people might ship it; Doug basically saves Phoenix from the impeding doom of Dahlia and then they make out about it. Only reason it's rated so low is cause I haven't seen anything about this ship to really get a sense for their chemistry, but I do get the baseline concept.

Phoenix x Godot: 6/10; a ship I see a surprising amount of content for and I think it's getting me to like it more. Another relationship sunken in grief, but it's a much better fit on them in my eyes. Coffee dates are the best dates. Imagine all the coffee shop AUs that exist just for them.

Phoenix x Gumshoe: 5/10; neutral on this one, but I do like the concept! Just a couple o' guys staking out crime scenes together, lovin' their work. The best dudes for the job. They're supposed to be rivals but it never works. They're homies for life.

Phoenix x Kristoph: 7/10; if I liked Kristoph more, I might like this ship more than I already do. I am a sucker for toxic yaoi, so I'll gladly take it! Kristoph definitely has respect for Phoenix, as much as he hates to admit it, so why not seal the deal by making them have a very shaky relationship that ends in one framing the other for murder. Phoenix is suffering Edgeworth withdrawal and it's leading him to dark places. Kristoph is the Maria to Phoenix's James (n Edgeworth's Mary) and no one can tell me otherwise.

Phoenix x Lang: 5/10; I have no idea where this ship materialized from, but it just sounds funny. Alpha Wolf hot shot and his sassy lawyer boyfriend. If you thought Phoenix's sass was apparent enough already, Lang just intensifies it by being around him and they have a blast gossiping about the competition. I wanna see them interact in canon now.

Phoenix x Edgeworth: 10/10; A CERTIFIED CLASSIC! ONE OF THE FOUNDING FATHERS OF MLM SHIPS! THEY ARE A PART OF INTERNET HISTORY! It's so hard for me to ever think of them not being hopelessly in love with each other. They're husbands to me. They have matching wedding rings you just need to look closer.

Phoenix x Larry: 3/10; I don't like Larry so in turn it's really hard for me to like this ship. I think it could be interesting if teen Phoenix is in his bicurious era and does practice dates with Larry who is more than willing to help him out. Two men realized they're bi that day.

[anonymousewrites]

Clan of Three (Book 3) Chapter Twelve

Father Figure! Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Teen! Reader

Chapter Twelve: The Scouting

Summary: The Mandalorians arrive on Mandalore and prepare to retake their homeworld.

Mouse Note: One last chapter before shit goes wild. How's everyone feel?

            “I hope these two groups get along,” murmured Bo-Katan. “They’ve never met, and what little they know of each other, they hate.”

            Her fleet had arrived above Nevarro’s Mandalorian covert. Mando, (Y/N), and Bo-Katan had successfully convinced her people to join them, and the Armorer had pledged the covert’s allegiance to working with fellow Mandalorians to retake Mandalore. However, the two groups’ differences would cause friction, and (Y/N) and their group needed to ensure that they could keep the peace enough to allow Mandalore to grow to glory again.

            I’ll do my best to help them avoid their past mistakes, swore (Y/N) to Mandalore the Great.

            “They will if they wanna survive,” said Mando. Grogu cooed in agreement from Bo-Katan’s lap.

            “That would be the reasonable thing,” said (Y/N). But let’s see if people are reasonable.

            The fleet touched down with the Gauntlet at the front. Covert Mandalorians stepped out to warily regard the strange group of Mandalorians arriving. Each group stared at each other, all still wearing their helmets, ready for a fight, tense and expectant.

            “Take the children inside,” said Paz to Ragnar, who nodded and guided the kids of the Covert inside.

            The rest of the Covert remaining outside and watched the approaching group with stiff posture. Even the older trainees were among them, old enough to fight if it came to it. (Y/N) recognized Miyan in his red helmet at the front, standing carefully still. Bo-Katan and her Mandalorians in blue (“Blues” to (Y/N)) stopped in front of the Covert. Grogu, (Y/N), and Mando stood beside the woman herself. The meeting was upon them.

            Axe Woves removed his helmet, and the other Blues followed suit, including Bo-Katan. The Covert shifted, unused to Mandalorians removing their helmets. The tension increased between them.

            A loud clanking grabbed all their attention. The Armorer calmly slammed her hammer and tongs together. She lowered her tools as everyone turned to her.

��           “Welcome, fellow Mandalorians,” she said, voice smooth and calm as ever, betraying no doubts in the success of this meeting, if she even had any. She was inscrutable with her even tone and helmeted head. “We invite you to make camp. Let us prepare a feast for our guests.”

            The Covert dispersed from their group to assist in preparations as their Armorer asked, and the Blues backed away to talk amongst themselves. Neither group interacted with each other. Bo-Katan hit Axe and dragged him away.

            “Mando!” greeted Karga, appearing on the scene. “(Y/N)! And the little guy!” He laughed jovially upon seeing them. “Welcome back, my friends. Welcome back. That’s quite a fleet you’ve assembled.” He held out a glass bottle. “Little welcome gift to celebrate our new neighbors.”

            At least someone feels good about this whole meeting, thought (Y/N).

            “That’s all the way from Coruscant, so you might wanna wait for a smaller gathering before you open it,” advised Karga.

            “Thank you,” said Mando.

            “Thanks,” said (Y/N).

            “That’s not the only gift I have,” sad Karga. “Come back to me office, and I’ll show you.”

            “Anything to get away from the tension here,” muttered (Y/N).

l

            The doors to Karga’s office slid open as they waited within. (Y/N)’s eyes widened as IG-11 walked towards them. Except, it wasn’t IG as much as an Anzellan sit in the chest cavity piloting the droid. Grogu perked up in excited wonder.

            “What did you do to IG-11?” asked Mando.

            “No, that’s IG-12 now. Do you like him?” said Karga excitedly.

            “Do I like him?” questioned Mando. Last time they turned IG on, it tried to kill his adike.

            “Don’t worry. He’s safe,” assured Karga.

            “You sure?” asked (Y/N). They had seen some droid troubles recently.

            “Well, the Anzellans stripped IG down to his base motor functions. They removed his memory circuit. The pilot provides cognition,” said Karga.

            The Anzellan pressed a button, and IG voiced a mechanical “Yes.”

            Grogu cooed wondrously. (Y/N) glanced at him and snorted. They sensed he wanted to try piloting. That and he wanted to squeeze the Anzellan. Sure enough, Grogu got up and walked towards the Anzellan as it got out of the seat and jumped to the table. The poor Anzellan had to skirt around Grogu watchfully.

            “Think of it this way. It’s more like a vehicle, hmm?” explained Karga. “It’s safer than way.”

            “Well, Grogu’s too little to operate this thing,” said Mando, watching as Grogu walked up to the IG.

            “Let’s see if he fits,” said (Y/N) excitedly.

            Mando sighed and watched as (Y/N) picked Grogu up and set him in the seat.

            Karga laughed. “So what do you think?”

            “They do nice work, I’ll give them that,” said Mando, though a little amused.

            (Y/N) grinned. “I love it. What do you think, Grogu?”

            Grogu babbled and grinned.

            “It’s good, but he’s still too young to operate heavy machinery. Maybe when he’s older,” said Mando.

            “No.”

            (Y/N), Mando, and Karga turned to face Grogu. He looked back at Mando, his hand still over the button to say no.

            “What do you mean ‘no?’ ” asked Mando.

            “No,” repeated Grogu with a smack of the button.

            “I think he thinks he’s old enough,” said (Y/N). They shrugged. “I mean, he is over fifty.”

            “Yes,” said IG-12.

            “Mm-mm,” negated Mando protectively. “Get him out o fthere.”

            “No,” said IG-12.

            “At least let him try it out in my office,” said Karga, as eager as an uncle getting his nephew into trouble.

            “Yes,” said IG-12.

            “No, this is not a good idea. Come on,” said Mando. He reached out for Grogu, but Grogu pushed Mando aside with IG’s limbs. “Hey.”

            Grogu eagerly piloted IG around the room, jerking this way and that and knocking a few items over. Slowly, Grogu got a hang of it. He was always smarter than he seemed. (Y/N) grinned as they watched. He was having a great time.

            “Will you look at that?” chuckled Karga.

            “Yes,” said IG-12.

            “Yes, what?” asked Karga.

            “Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes,” repeated IG-12 over and over.

            “I think Grogu likes it,” said (Y/N).

            Mando sighed. “We’re not getting him out of there, are we?”

            “Nope,” said (Y/N).

l

            “Yes. Yes. Yes.” Grogu kept hitting the button over and over as their clan walked back through Nevarro to the Mandalorian encampment. “Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.”

            When it stopped, (Y/N) immediately paused and looked back, causing Mando to do the same. They groaned. Grogu had stolen food from a vendor and was devouring it.

            “What are you doing?” scolded Mando. “Stop, Grogu. No. You have to pay for those.” He took away the food, but the vendor was already upset. Mando handed over some credits, but at the same moment, Grogu grabbed a piece of fruit. “No. Hey, Grogu, give it,” said Mando, reaching for it.

            “No,” said IG-12, and Grogu directed the arm to hold it out of Mando’s reach. It squeezed and crushed the fruit, sending a sprinkle of juice down on the group. Mando sighed in resignation and handed over more credits to the disgruntled vendor.”

            “He’s not gonna let you keep using that if you act like that,” said (Y/N) to Grogu.

            “Yes,” said IG-12.

            “No, he won’t,” said (Y/N).

            Grogu babbled as if saying he wouldn’t get out.

            Mando sighed. “We should go before there’s more trouble.”

            “Not like there’ll be any less trouble at the camp,” said (Y/N).

l

            The encampment remained divided between Blue and Covert Mandalorians, even as the food cooked and the sun set. They all just spoke quietly to one another and glanced warily at the other Mandalorian group.

            “Mandalorians,” said Bo-Katan, stepping forward between the two. The time had arrived to discuss the reality of their situation. “It is time to retake our home world. Even though the planet is not cursed, there are still dangers. Dormant species have been awakened by the bombings. The remaining magnetic interference has made it impossible to scan the surface from above atmosphere.”

            And there’s a darkness coming for us, thought (Y/N), acutely aware of Mandalore the Great’s warning.

            “Which is why I’m proposing that we leave Nevarro and move the fleet into orbit above Mandalore,” continued Bo-Katan. “We send down a small recon party. We’ll scout the surface, find out what remains of the Great Forge, and establish a safe perimeter. Only then will we bring down the others.” She glanced at (Y/N), and they nodded encouragingly. Bo-Katan was doing the right thing, even if it was risky. She cleared her throat. “I need volunteers from both tribes.”

            Silence. No movement.

            (Y/N) sighed and stood. They shrugged as if it was obvious. “You know I’m with you.”

            Mando stood beside his ad’ika. “I will go. Grogu as well.” The kid in question got to his feet, though that didn’t make him any taller. Their Clan would fight for Mandalore.

            Bo-Katan nodded to them in thanks.

            Koska was next, picking her helmet up as she stepped out. “I will go.”

            “I will go,” said Axe.

            “I will go,” said Paz.

            “I will go.”

            “I will go.”

            “I will go.”

            One by one, members of both tribes stepped forward to pledge their help to retaking Mandalore.

            “I will go as well,” said the Armorer. Bo-Katan blinked for a moment in surprised before bowing her head at the honor.

            (Y/N) smiled to themself. We’re making progress.

l

            The following morning, the fleet was in the air. The many ships dotted the sky above Nevarro as they flew out of the atmosphere towards Mandalore. Every Mandalorian remained on edge as they jumped out of hyperspace above Mandalore, but at the same time, they couldn’t help but feel a jump of exhilaration as they saw their home world, the place of their ancestors.

            “Scouting party descend to surface,” said Bo-Katan to the rest of the fleet from the Gauntlet where she, Mando, Grogu, the Armorer, and (Y/N) were awaiting their descent (Grogu was even in IG-12 to move with the others quickly). She led the flight downwards. She glanced back. “We’ll lose comms shortly.”

            (Y/N) nodded and watched as the thunderclouds enveloped them again as they broke through Mandalore’s atmosphere. Lightning and rain raged around them, but the Mandalorians remained calm and collected as they awaited their arrival on the surface. The hatch of the Gauntlet opened, the scouting party gazed down at the planet below.

            “They’re ready,” said Mando after checking on the droppers ((Y/N) had been forbidden from even approaching the drop hatch due to the incident with the pirates).

            “Secure infil zone,” said Bo-Katan. She flipped a switch, and the Mandalorians dropped and activated their jetpacks.

            They soared to the ground below, instantly drawing their weapons in case enemies made an appearance.

            “Gauntlet, landing zone secure,” reported Koska after they scanned the surrounding land.

            The Gauntlet swooped low and landed. The remaining members of the scouting party exited the ship and joined their compatriots.

            “Somewhere below is where our ancient capital once stood,” said Bo-Katan as she stood before them. “We’ll survey the surface until we find the Forge and create a safety zone. Only then will we begin to bring down settlers. We start scouting in that direction. Follow me.” She put on her helmet and strode out across the planet surface confidently.

            The Mandalorians followed. Everyone was in pairs of two to watch each other’s backs. No enemies had attacked so far, but as they continued walking, they remained watchful. (Y/N) paused and narrowed their eyes.

            “Buir,” they said, and Mando glanced at them. “Can your helmet see that, in the distance?” They gestured to the horizon, and with his clear visor focus, Mando nodded.

            “Something’s moving this way,” he warned.

            “Nite Owls,” ordered Bo-Katan.

            “Flanking left,” responded Axe.

            The Mandalorians tensed with weapons out as a ship-speeder hybrid approached. Mando stepped in front of (Y/N) and Grogu protectively.

            A man’s head popped up. “Do you have food?”

            “We do.” Bo-Katan responded simply. If there was a way to resolve this without an altercation, they would take it.

            “You wear the crest of the Nite Owls?” commented a second man in surprise.

            “I should hope so,” said Bo-Katan.

            “They’re Mandalorians,” said the Armorer, making the connection quickly.

            “Is that the voice of Lady Bo-Katan Kryze?” asked one of the men in hopeful surprise.

            “It is,” admitted Bo-Katan.

            The three men, Mandalorians, jumped into the air with jetpacks and landed before Bo-Katan. The Mandalorian scouts raised their weapons, but Bo-Katan stayed them with a raise of her hand. The three Mandalorians strangers removed their helmets. They put their hands to their chest and bowed to Bo-Katan.

            “We knew you would not forsake us, Lady Bo-Katan,” said the first, the leader of the three.

            “We have failed you, but our blasters remain in your service,” said the second.

            Huh, thought (Y/N).

l

            The Mandalorians had loaded onto the trio’s land-speeder, and they ate quickly as a moon hung over Mandalore in the dark clouds.

            “They intercepted any ships they saw leaving,” explained the leader of the survivors. “They took no prisoners. They bombed every surface twice over. They punished us as a warning to the whole galaxy because we refused to surrender.”

            Bo-Katan swallowed, and the Force quivered around her, catching (Y/N)’s attention even before she spoke. “That’s not true,” she admitted quietly. All heads turned to her. “I did surrender.” The words were filled with shame. Whispers erupted among the group. Bo-Katan took a deep breath and continued. She wouldn’t hide her mistakes from her people as she tried to lead them. She was honorable.

            “After our forces were annihilated in the Night of a Thousand Tears and defeat was imminent, I met with Moff Gideon,” she said. “The ISB had reached out to me to negotiate a ceasefire. In exchange for submitting to the Empire and disarming, all remaining cities and Mandalorian lives were to be spared. That is how Moff Gideon came to possess the Darksaber.” Silence, and she continued. “I didn’t trust him, but it was the only chance I had to save our people. And then he betrayed me, and we were helpless to resist the Purge of Mandalore.” The final words were shakier than the rest of her speech, the admission that she had failed to protect her people weighing on her.

            Still, (Y/N) admired her bravery. Bo-Katan had admitted her vast mistake, and for that she had (Y/N)’s respect as a leader still.

            “How did these others survive?” questioned one of the surface survivors. He jerked his head towards the Covert Mandalorians.

            “We were hidden on the moon of Concordia,” said the Armorer.

            “Are you Death Watch?” questioned another survivor.

            “Death Watch exists no longer,” said the Armorer simply. “It shattered into many warring factions.”

            “Our people have suffered time and time again,” said Bo-Katan, and all attention turned to her once again. “From division and squabbling factions. Mandalore has always been too powerful for any enemy to defeat. It is always our own division that destroys us, and we must not repeat the mistakes of the past.”

            She looked knowingly at (Y/N), and they nodded shortly as uncomfortable attention turned to them, the Nite Owls and Covert Mandalorians alike knowing what (Y/N) had heard from Mandalore the Great. (Y/N) didn’t speak. They had already said enough, and Bo-Katan and Mandalore the Great were right—Mandalore’s infighting broke it. Only by coming together and putting aside their differences would they rise once more.

l

            Bo-Katan stood at the front of the speeder, gazing out over Mandalore’s scarred surface. She couldn’t fight the knowledge that this was her fault. She had failed her people, and now they all knew. Mando and (Y/N) walked up beside her, one on each side. Bo-Katan didn’t react.

            “We had no idea,” said (Y/N).

            Mando nodded. “My Covert was taught that everyone but us had forsaken the Way. That you were selfish and uncaring. Now we understand.”

            Bo-Katan shook her head with solemn melancholy. “You were right. I was selfish. And this is what it wrought.”

            “We’ll rebuild it,” said (Y/N). “Isn’t that what Mandalorians do? They fight whenever pushed into a corner? You’ll overcome this. You’ll survive.”

            “I don’t know if I can keep everyone together,” admitted Bo-Katan. “There’s too much animosity. And this blade is all I have to unify our people.” She held the Darksaber before her.

            A single weapon holding Mandalore together while tearing it apart in a bid for power, thought (Y/N). They spoke up. “That weapon only means what you’ve taught me. It means nothing really to me or Buir’s Covert.” Mando nodded in confirmation. “Station, bloodline, I don’t think that matters to them. It’s honor.”

            Mando glanced at (Y/N). He was unsure when they had become so knowledgeable in Mandalorian ways, whether it was their own observations, Mandalore the Great’s teaching, or a combination, but he was proud. The Armorer was right. They had the makings of a great Mandalorian.

            “You have loyalty, character, honor,” said (Y/N).

            “That’s why we serve you, Lady Kryze,” said Mando. “Your song is not yet written. I will serve you until it is.”

            (Y/N) nodded. “As will I. You are loyal to Mandalorians, and we’re loyal to you.” This is the Way.

            Bo-Katan gazed at the two of them and felt a strength blossom within her she hadn’t felt in years. Mandalore could be saved.

Taglist:

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[beyondthetemples-ooc]

(Teen Titans T.erra thoughts, unfavorable and bitter. Turning reblogs off because I'm not here to discourse, just try putting a little bit of my Internal Conflict to bed for my own posterity.)

I finally figured out how to succinctly sum up the reason I'm still bitter towards T.erra. It only takes four little words:

"Cool motive. Still murder."

Approximately 20 years after seeing the Aftershock episodes the night they aired (because pt. I was the very first time I remember Seeing the End Live and Eagerly Awaiting Next Week's Episode), I watched it with my roomies tonight. Both parts, at least halfway at my behest because, while we normally only watch one episode, I told them "I want to get it over with."

My feelings on the T.erra story used to be a lot more pure.

(Pure vitriol, that is. When I was in elementary school, I used to sing the show's themesong with a modified line: "Never met a villain that they liked... EXCEPT T.ERRA!")

Some (some) of the Bastard-ness of what S|ade was doing to her escaped me as a child. I won't get into it now, but I grew up in an abusive household, and it kind of... didn't register as So Wrong to me? Just like "oh yeah, that's how authority figures treat kids." Indignant but not outright Horrific.

Tonight might actually be the first time I've watched the episode with a Mature Adult Understanding of how relationships with adults are Supposed to look like. Seeing it for the horror of removing autonomy especially. Or, trying to anyways. It's like Beast Boy said: She Always Had a Choice.

That doesn't change my feelings on the matter one bit.

After these episodes aired, I didn't rewatch them unless one of the other kids in the house wanted it. (My oldest younger sister in particular was always really fond of T.erra.) But I didn't like T.erra. I didn't like this story. It made me angry, it made me sad. Seeing Raven lose control has always been a kryptonite bullet to my hard-earned emotional stability. I watched pt. I at my best friend's house once and literally RAN around his house to burn off the emotional energy. Maybe I was yelling too. I was certainly rambling. Just... I've always had a Strong reaction to that.

So I've really only had an (admittedly acute) memory of seeing those episodes a handful of times and the very occasional, passing thought to dedicate to the show's rendition of a story that burns every bit as harshly in the comics, too.

I never really thought or talked about it unless someone else brought it up. I never really processed it. I knew what I felt on the matter and that was that.

A few years ago, I wound up talking (more to myself than whoever was trying to argue with me, it seemed) through all the reasons I don't think that whatever she went through EXCUSES HER BEHAVIOR. I very adamantly think there is NO excuse to betray your friends like that. I don't care WHAT situation you're in, betrayal is a conscious decision and maybe it's not well thought out, but when you make a choice, you get to own the consequences of your decision. When you hurt people with the things you do, you're responsible for that. You're the one at fault. You're the one who has to deal with it, and you're the one who has to bear the consequences.

The only reason I talked myself through that was because someone accused me of victim blaming, because I don't like T.erra. I actually hadn't even made one of my More Impassioned rants about her? I just wrote that I thought Malchior's betrayal had to sting Raven especially deeply when you consider that she'd already been stung by Terra half a season ago. And somebody came into my askbox like "Why do you hate T.erra?"

Cue an argument. A really pointless argument. You're not going to change my mind on her. I'm not missing anything. I can sympathize and empathize and feel all the pity and sorrow and loss for everything she suffered, and still hold her accountable for her actions.

I'm an abuse victim, too! I've had people manipulate me and convince me to do The Wrong Thing, too! The difference is I don't HIDE from what happened; I face it and make amends where I can and I DECIDED to TAKE BACK CONTROL!

I simply don't LIKE T.erra; her personality grates me and her attitude when she was fully on S|ade's side was absolutely abysmal. It's all subjective, really. But I won't get over it because there wasn't really closure, and any resolution would have to be as equally powerful as the crime to which I hold Hurting One's Friends On Purpose-- something unforgivable to me, and she never even apologized. She never made any move to make amends, to make sure they were okay.

Presuming the girl in the last episode was her (another episode I hate to think about), she just. Ran away. Never even said goodbye. Never put a thought towards how they were doing, to see what they'd done without her, to make amends or even make sure they were okay. She fucked off to do her own thing. She's selfish.

It's even harder to forgive somebody when they don't apologize.

And I see no reason to soften what she did.

Maybe I'm bitter and maybe I'm unforgiving for it, but I'm okay with that.

Cool motive, T.erra. Still murder.

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

Sketchbook Week Day 4 - Dreaming of Bumping Into You (Chapter 2)

Summary: When Johanna is woken up in the middle of the night by a strange phone call, she knows she has to ask Kaisa what is happening. She just doesn’t know which is more concerning; whether it’s the words being said or the way her best friend sounds while she’s delivering them

Notes: Written for @sketchbookweek Day 4 - Apologies

Listen, this fic’s song is obviously Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High, but the ‘you dream of my mouth before it called you a lying traitor’ line in Taylor Swift’s Is It Over Now? OOOUUGHHHH

Read it on ao3

Kaisa was, if anything, used to feeling like a useless sad waste of space on her own. But the thing she was only just getting used to again was, she didn’t have to do that anymore. Now she could feel like a useless sad waste of space with someone by her side telling her she was being silly.

It was a welcome change. So she reached out for it even when she didn’t really realise that that’s what she was doing.

She went to Tildy’s house after the library was closed for the day, forgoing her usual extra organisation time and deciding that that would be a problem for tomorrow morning’s version of herself. Depending on whether her former mentor managed to coax her into staying for dinner and then some extra hours just to catch up (she usually did), she’d probably hate her former self for it come daylight, but hey, screw that jerk.

The key that she’d kept since her teens still worked, and Kaisa had already checked with Tildy if it was okay for her to keep using it (the answer had been an enthusiastic yes, of course). She let herself in, the voices that reached her ears as soon as she stepped inside betraying that they wouldn’t be alone. If it were anyone else, Kaisa would have been pissed at having to talk to someone who wasn’t Tildy. But she recognized the second voice, and oddly enough she had no trouble with it. Hadn’t ever, truth be told.

She found Tildy and Frida sitting together at the kitchen table, eyes turned to astrology sheets spread all over it.

On cue as always, the eldest witch opened a beaming smile at the sight of her. The youngest one… not so much. It stung, but Kaisa had come to expect it; it had been the same for a couple of weeks. She couldn’t even blame Frida for it, poor kid. It was Kaisa’s fault that she was at a very tight spot, caught between genuinely liking her and wanting to defend her and not being able to do so since it was her very best friend (her familiar, for crying out loud) who was the one avoiding her like the plague and no doubt listing her reasons for it when the librarian was out of earshot.

Kaisa had no idea what Johanna had been telling her daughter about her, but whatever it was, she wouldn’t blame Frida for it. Even if she damn nearly teared up when the kids she’d grown so fond of went to the library and ignored her completely outside of their cold ‘good afternoon’s.

No matter. She still returned Tildy’s smile as best as she could, and gave Frida one even if she couldn’t match it. She was so concentrated on it, in fact, she didn’t even notice when Tildy’s face turned into a frown and she squinted at the spot just above her head.

“Hey, you two!” Kaisa greeted with a cheeriness she absolutely did not feel. She was so tired her head was pounding, having woken up feeling like she hadn’t slept through the night every morning for at least a month. “Sorry to interrupt, I just came to hang out for a bit. I can come back some other day.”

She didn’t want to come back another day. She wanted Tildy’s comfort and she wanted it now, but she wasn’t self centred enough to barge into someone else’s training and make them uncomfortable. Not when it was Frida, at least.

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” Frida answered even if she didn’t really look Kaisa in the eye. It was already a step forward from how she acted at the library, though. Maybe she just didn’t want Hilda to see her being kind to her. “We were just finished, actually! I should probably get back home.”

An awkward silence stretched itself over them, as Frida began putting away in her backpack that which belonged to her and Matilda for some reason continued staring past Kaisa, now pointedly enough that the librarian noticed. Kaisa fidgeted, biting the skin on the inside of her lip. When the child (teen, really, but she didn’t want to think about it at that moment) made to get up from her chair, Kaisa forced herself to speak up and step closer.

“Wait!” She blushed when the two of them turned to her with questioning looks. “Frida, I’m sorry. I know things have been awkward lately, and that’s exactly why I came to talk to Tildy, really. And if it’s not a bother… I’d like to talk to you, too. Because I care-” She took a deep breath, looking at the table rather than at her. “I care what you think about me. You don’t have to listen, of course. I know loyalty goes both ways in a familiar’s relationship. But if you could, I’d like to explain myself.”

Frida, for her part, looked taken aback and a bit like a deer in headlights. “You don’t have to-”

“I do. I have no idea what you’ve heard, but if you could give me the benefit of the doubt, I’d like for you to build your own opinion. Even if this isn’t a matter that should even concern you at all.”

Though it wasn’t audible, Kaisa could see Frida’s gulp by the bobbing of her throat. She nodded shily, almost imperceptibly, and sat back down at her chair. With a relieved sigh, Kaisa sank down in front of the two of them, noticing how Tildy was eyeing them with curiosity and even a bit of wariness.

“I’d very much like to know what this is about.” The elder said. “You’ve both been acting off for a while. Any looming disasters I should be aware of?”

A self deprecating smile graced Kaisa’s lips. “Only my personal life.”

And then she told them. Her part of the story, all of it, leaving gaps only in the parts that couldn’t be filled by anything other than ‘I am quite deeply, irrevocably, dreadfully in love with Johanna Pearson”. But she told them about Johanna’s first visit, and then the second one, and the bizarre accusations that she’d brought. She told them about swallowing her pride and going to Johanna’s house, only to have her heart stomped on (platonically, of course, because she’d never be stupid enough to think someone that out of her reach could want anything else with her, right?). She told them about having lost the closest friendship she’d had since she’d been a carefree child. She told them about not knowing what she’d done wrong and it eating her alive. She told them about replaying what had happened over and over in her head, wondering what she could have done to change that outcome, only to come to the conclusion that the problem was her each time.

Tildy had held and caressed her hand throughout her rant, and when she was done, Frida looked baffled. And then she told the part of the story that she’d heard, that Hilda was a light sleeper and had been woken up every night for a fortnight by a phone call to their landline in the dead of night. That the first times it had happened she’d seen her mother look miserable the next day. That she’d suddenly stopped going to the library and ever mentioning it or Kaisa, and that even if she didn’t comment anything about it to her daughter, even if Hilda had no idea what any of it was about, she was smart enough to connect the dots. Hilda didn’t know how, but she knew Kaisa was responsible for her mother being a wreck for the past month.

The two students stared at each other, enough trust between them that they didn’t question the other’s truthfulness. Have you ever seen a computer loading screen? Of course you have. That’s what the two of them would probably look like to anyone who was to see them at that moment, their minds overheating at trying to process an amount of information they were far too smart to have any trouble putting together.

The first thing that registered in Kaisa’s mind was that Johanna wasn’t shit talking her to her daughter. That was good. The second thing that did was that the phone calls were real. And they had been causing true distress to Johanna, so much so that she couldn’t even hide if from Hilda when usually she was so good at doing just that. Which meant she hadn’t been looking for a way out of their friendship, nor purposefully pushing her away. It should have made Kaisa feel better, knowing that. But it didn’t, really, because she now realised she’d been a grade A asshole who had called her best friend a liar. So what if she took somebody else’s voice for her own? It was three in the morning, she couldn’t be expected to have all her brain cells fully functioning after being startled out of sleep by the ringing.

Frida was giving Johanna’s sleepy mind more credit, apparently, reasoning out loud how the mysterious caller could have Kaisa’s voice. Her mind immediately went to audio editing and voice altering spells, shooting ideas while Kaisa stared at nothing in particular and tried to process all of that.

It was odd, though. It was odd because Tildy was uncharacteristically quiet. Generally that happened when she wanted them to work something out by themselves, so when they’d run out of ideas (not that Kaisa had contributed with a single one. Her mind was too busy rotating the thought ‘she doesn’t hate me, she doesn’t hate me’ over and over to do anything else) they turned their gazes to her. Her face wasn’t sporting the typical look that somehow conveyed pride and a sense of ‘how cute, you have so much to learn still’ at the same time. Tildy was still staring at the top of Kaisa’s head with a gaze so focused it could probably melt ice.

“So-” Frida said when their mentor didn’t immediately jump to praising the good ideas and gently correcting the ones that were utter trash. “What do you think?”

Matilda didn’t even blink. “Kaisa. Have you been sleeping well?”

It took her a couple of seconds to gather her bearings. Out of all the things she’d expected Tildy to comment on, her fucking dark bags weren’t on her list. But sure, why not. She’d heard weirder things come out of the witch’s mouth.

“No. I’ve been waking up feeling like I didn’t rest every day. Figured it’s just anxiety.”

She hummed. “How long has that been happening?”

“Like-” Eternity. Every minute she spent like that dragged itself on and on until it felt like she’d never felt like anything but tired. “A month, give or take?”

Tildy nodded, turning her gaze to her eyes, finally. It was cutting and cold, taking Kaisa by surprise. Just not as much as her next words did.

“And tell me, my dear, have you had this hex over you for long?”

…......

This time, she did not resist the urge to buy flowers before heading to Johanna’s. In fact, all three of them agreed that that was the least that could be done. And that’s how a coven of witches ended up at Tildy’s favourite florist, choosing flowers for a bouquet while secretly stalling for time for Kaisa to put herself together and think about what she was going to say. It would have to be good, too, because it would take a miracle for Johanna to take her back. Hell, it would take a miracle for Kaisa to even get to the sorry part, since she now had to live with the knowledge she’d apparently spilled her guts all over Johanna.

It was frightening. She tried to keep in mind that Johanna’s first reaction after receiving the phone call had been checking that she was fine, and that she hadn’t, apparently, deliberately pushed her away. That she maybe, possibly, had a chance, or had had once, at least. But it was a difficult thing to focus on when she’d spent the past few weeks thinking their entire relationship had been built on pity at best. Still, she wasn’t trying to achieve any miracles here. She wasn’t about to ask Johanna out on a date right out of the bat, or anything of the sort. She just wanted her best friend back.

They left the flower shop with a bouquet of lily of the valley, white roses and pink carnations.

It was a damn good thing she had the two other witches with her, because judging by the amount of times Kaisa thought about bolting during the walk to the Pearson’s household, her nerves would have probably won out eventually if she wasn’t being watched. It was with much effort and no small amount of anxiety that she eventually found herself in front of Johanna’s flat, flanked by her coven.

Her raised fist wavered in front of the door, flashes of the last time she’d been there crossing her mind unwantedly. It hadn’t been her fault. But that didn’t mean it didn’t feel like it.

Tildy put a gentle hand on her shoulder, encouraging her with a soft “you can do it” near her ear. Frida squeezed her forearm (not her hand, since she was using it to hold the bouquet). It was all the encouragement she needed. Good thing too, since it was all the encouragement she could get.

She knocked on the door.

Which was answered by Hilda.

Immediately, her expression morphed into a frown; a predictable reaction, considering the first thing she saw was the librarian with a bunch of flowers. But then it melted into growing levels of confusion as she noticed her best friend and the arch sorceress by her sides.

“Hilda.” Frida said before Kaisa even had the chance to formulate something rational to say. “Please come with us. Trust me with this one, they need to talk.”

Hilda clearly wasn’t too fond of the idea, but she did trust Frida. So after popping back inside the house to give her mother a heads up, she came back out again and left alongside the two witches, just not before shooting Kaisa a glare that left no question that she’d have to face her anger if she hurt Johanna.

Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that.

When Kaisa stepped inside (this was certainly not a door frame sort of conversation, and no one was blocking the way, anyhow), she saw Johanna already standing up with her arms crossed over her chest. Her drawing table was littered with her work tools. Great, she’d interrupted her thought process. What a perfect beginning.

“I didn’t- I didn’t lie.” Kaisa said after a fortifying breath, only to cringe after doing so. Sure, start your apology by defending yourself. Why not go ahead and just throw the flowers at her face and run really quickly? “Hold up, let me try this again.”

She closed her eyes just after seeing Johanna’s eyebrow quirk up. No matter, though, she knew how foolish she must look. She could only hope there was a chance that humbling herself in front of the woman would make her more likely to forgive her. After a couple of heartbeats, during which she’d willed them to not be that damn fast, she began again.

“Listen, Anna, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I hurt you, and that I doubted you. I’m sorry I acted like you were being unreasonable when you just wanted to make sure that I was okay and to know what was going on. And I’m sorry if I overstepped when I called you. Except I need you to understand that I really don’t know if I did, because I can’t remember it.”

“Is that so?” Johanna’s attempt at nonchalance was undermined by the fact that her voice sounded like she was about to choke up. Kaisa gave her the grace of pretending she didn’t notice it, knowing she wasn’t faring much better herself. “Then why the hell didn’t you just tell me you were high? Do you think I would have-”

Interrupting her was probably not what she should have done, but Kaisa couldn’t bear to let her finish, anyway. She was desperate to get her to understand, desperate to see what could be salvaged of them, desperate for her to stop thinking Kaisa would ever misjudge her like that.

“I wasn’t!” She all but pleaded. “I was under a hex! I called you, I said whatever I did, and I remembered nothing of it because a spell was cast on me and made me do it. I know it’s a piss poor excuse, but it’s true! I-” Noticing how she was rambling, Kaisa stopped to breathe for the first time since she’d started the explanation. When she continued, it was with a bit more of strenuously forced calm. “I’d never treat you like that. When you told me about the calls, I thought you were making up an excuse to stop talking to me. You can’t notice a magical working that is cast on you, at least not directly. You can only notice it’s consequences. I only know about it now because Tildy saw through it and broke it for me.”

It was a good explanation, and Johanna would know so. She’d never allowed Kaisa to live down the tide mice incident, after all. So it wasn’t the hex bit that she questioned.

“So you didn’t mean what you said, then?”

Kaisa blinked. Focusing on controlling her breathing could only take her so far, and her heart picked up pace again. The damage had been done, she reminded herself. Keeping her feelings a secret not only had been harming them, but it was also no longer an option. It would be stupid to try to deny it, and if she had any hope of doing any damage control it would probably be required for her to wear her heart on her cheek. It was just fair after what she’d put the woman through.

“I meant all of it.” She started out saying, hoping that Johanna’s sudden blush was a good sign. “I still don’t know exactly what it was. But the hex I was under was crafted to force fiends to reveal their better hidden secrets. The witch who put it on me vastly overestimated how much I wanted to keep her from getting a spell. The person under the magical influence can’t actually remember their actions, because that would alert them to the casting. But I can imagine what I must have told you.”

Johanna had, at some point, let her arms fall to her sides, no longer looking so guarded but rather taken aback and… hopeful? Though it was entirely likely that Kaisa was just imagining what she wanted to see. Either way, there were no signs of resistance or discomfort when the librarian stepped closer, so she did, even if she still kept a respectful distance. She tried to look Johanna in the eyes for this next bit. Probably failed, but an attempt was made.

“I can imagine what it must have been.” She repeated almost quietly. “Because I was terrified of you finding out how I feel about you. Of you finding out… before I was ready. But I think this is just an excuse I was telling myself. I think I never would have considered myself ready, or deserving of being with you. So even if I wouldn’t admit it, that was my best hidden secret. That I care for you not just the way friends care for each other. That being around you makes me nervous in a nice way. That I think you’re the prettiest person I know, even if that should be a given since you must own a mirror or two. I don’t expect you to return any of my feelings, of course. I’d be happy to remain your friend, if you’d do me the honour. But I am so sorry that I made you think I’d only ever admit all of that under the influence. I am sorry I was an idiot who didn’t listen. I’m sorry I left you thinking I’d be that cruel, because I really was acting like it even if I didn’t know so.”

She raised the bouquet to Johanna, still far away enough that both women had to fully extend their arms for her to reach it. The artist eyed it wearily, her brows furrowed even as she took the flowers into her arms. She looked at them, and then at Kaisa with that same expression, not like rejection but more like she was trying to wrap her head around what she’d been told.

Kaisa waited patiently for a reaction. She wasn’t in any position to make any demands, and nor did she want to.

“I- this is a lot.” Johanna whispered. “A lot to process, I mean. Could we maybe go somewhere later?” After a glance at the window, and at the stars already out, she backtracked. “Or maybe tomorrow? I just- thank you for the apology. I just don’t think my brain is fully functioning right now.”

Doing her best to plaster a smile upon her face, Kaisa nodded. It was perfectly understandable, and even if it squashed her best outcome fantasy scenarios of leaving in Johanna’s good graces, and already more than she could ask for. If she was being given the chance to see her again, then not all was lost. Probably.

“Of course.” She said, taking a step back with as much dignity as she could (not a lot). “Does tomorrow morning at the park work for you? I can use my break to meet you, so around ten?”

Johanna nodded in agreement. They’d find each other at their usual spot in the park. That bit didn’t even need to be said out loud.

“Okay.” Trying not to be disheartened by Johanna’s eerie silence, Kaisa sighed. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then. I’ll let Frida know she can bring Hilda back, too. Thank you.”

She was aware of Johanna’s eyes on her back as she left the apartment, debating whether this a good sign or a bad one and eventually settling that it was just what you did when someone who was talking to you walked away and not much else was happening. Johanna just stood there, stunned and coming back to herself slowly, piece by piece. Kaisa had been out of the door for many moments when she properly registered the flowers she was holding, the weight and the scent of them, the light colours and beautiful shapes. She’d been gone for a couple more moments when Johanna registered the confession, a proper one given while staring at her face. And Johanna-

Johanna had let her walk away without the slightest explanation as to what her feelings were.

“Shit!” She ran to the window overcome with the feeling that she was running out of time, but some god must be watching over her because she did so exactly when Kaisa was right in front of the building.

‘Kaisa, wait!” The shout made Kaisa immediately turn to where the sound had come from, clearly startled out of her skin. “I love you too!”

The witch stared at her with her mouth hanging open, turning Johanna’s attention to the ridiculousness of what she’d just done. She blushed the shade of the carnations she was holding.

“Just wanted you to know!” She shouted again and then ran away from the window, which was how mature adults handled having a crush, thank you very much.

If she’d stuck around just a second longer, she would have seen a radiant smile blooming on Kaisa’s face.

The witch walked away with a new glow. That night, she’d stay asleep for as long as she wanted without waking up against her will and knowledge, and even if she didn’t know so yet, she’d leave from the park the next day with a lot more than she’d had walking in. Maybe she had found what she’d been hoping to find, after all.

…......

The Committee of Three was very surprised to have such a young witch request an audience, alone, with them. But they acquiesced, of course. If they could ever get Frida to leave Matilda Pilqvist behind and play on their side, she’d be a valuable asset.

“It has come to our attention that a hex has been placed over Kaisa.” The girl stated once she was in their hall, her voice echoing and her confidence making her sound a lot older than she actually was. “And she has reasons to believe it was one of you to have done so.”

Juniper shrugged, not knowing what that was about but not really caring if it was true. Abigail smirked to her sister, whose silence was the only confirmation she gave. To someone as intelligent as the young witch in front of them, it was enough. If it angered her, she didn’t let it show.

“I am willing to give away my mentor’s best spell.” She said, matter of factly. While the girl had never been so… formal around them, they understood that the situation probably called for it in her mind. They all listened closely, now more interested than ever. “If you are willing to vow never to put a hex, curse, jinx, or any other type of malicious casting over any member of my coven.”

The negotiations were quick. There was no reason for them not to be, with the offer being exactly what they wanted and the condition, something they figured they could live without. Frida refused to budge until they had signed a magically binding scroll that would make sure they couldn’t go back on their word, at least not without suffering dire consequences. Once she was satisfied, Frida put the scroll she’d brought with herself down on the floor and walked away with her head held high.

The preparations for the casting were done immediately. They followed the scroll’s instructions to a fault - Matilda’s spells tended to be temperamental and fickle to say the least - and chanted in unison as soon as all was ready. Protection spells were usually subtle, so none of them were expecting to see any changes to the Witches’ Tower or its structure, content enough when they felt the surge of magic emanating from the centre of their casting circle.

It was, that way, a big surprise when they turned around and saw that all of their stylized lamps, the ones that looked like spiders with their metal limbs, had turned into actual spiders twice the size of their heads, and were coming down in their direction.

The Committee never attempted to outsmart anyone from the Pilqvist clan ever again.

[fizzingwizard]

I read His Dark Materials when I was 13. Northern Lights was (and is still) my favorite because I loved the adventure and how scrappy and rebellious Lyra was. And if I hadn't already been hooked, the ending of the first book would have made it impossible not to continue reading.

I was a little thrown when the second book focused on a new character almost as much as Lyra, but it didn't take long to come to love Will as well. At the time, although I enjoyed the book, I'd say I didn't really appreciate how important their partnership was, because I liked Lyra so much and could easily have just read book after book about Lyra and Pan on their own. (It might have been different if Lyra didn't have Pan, though, which makes Will a requirement one way or another.)

Then, with Amber Spyglass, I enjoyed the high stakes so high, the various subplots interconnecting, and the pretty abstract imagery and themes. I wouldn't say that at 13 I "got" all of it, but I loved it.

What I didn't love was Will and Lyra falling in love - weirdly, I mean, you'd think a 13-year-old would rather fangirl over with that than elephant-like creatures on wheels... (years later I still adore mulefa)

I didn't like them falling in love because I felt betrayed by Lyra. She'd been my favorite little pest and hero to put all the James Bonds and Indiana Joneses of the world to shame. I thought she could do anything. And when she fell in love, she discovered sentiment, but more than that, she started to show vulnerability and reliance on someone other than herself. I hated her becoming a romantic heroine, needing reassurance from Will, and I hated thinking of Will as "The End" of Lyra Silvertongue's story. After all, a girl falls in love, she ceases to be a girl. Now she's a woman and the days of running on rooftops and getting mistaken for a boy are over.

I tried to reread the whole series some years ago when I was home for the holidays, but I didn't make it to the third book before I had to leave, and since then there's always been something else to think about, so. It would be interesting to see what I think of how Will and Lyra's romance was handled as an adult. Some of what I disliked as a child could be because of the way it was written. But a lot of it, I suspect, was simply because at that age I hadn't learned what love was. (Not to be the kid from The Princess Bride, but yeah, kisses were "gross!") As kids we take parental love for granted - it's not even a bad thing, it's part of learning independence and developing an individual sense of self. But, after that, we have to relearn dependence. Relearn the value of compromise and commitment and understanding.

I was afraid of Lyra/Will because I didn't want any kissing. But what Lyra/Will has was everything Lyra needed (and Will too) - and now, as an adult, I feel so grateful that Lyra didn't have to shoulder everything alone. Didn't have to become hardened and jaded like so many of those Tough Guy Heroes. I'm glad she found someone who she could let herself be weak and vulnerable around, because he didn't respect her any less for it.

And even though my childhood self would have preferred Lyra and Will to stay friends rather than lovers, I was still torn to pieces by what happened to them in the end. It certainly wasn't my first time reading a story with a not necessarily sad, but less than upbeat ending. But it shook me up. I wasn't prepared for that level of loss. It wasn't a sudden, shocking tragedy. It was something they had to do knowing what it meant. And to me, even though it was so sad, it didn't feel tragic. I hated hearing, as a kid, that the people I loved so much in my teens probably wouldn't still be around in my twenties and thirties. Like a lot of kids, my relationships were absolutely everything to me. I got to travel overseas for the first time around the same age that I read His Dark Materials, and even though I'd always wanted to travel and enjoyed the trip, I spent a lot of it just incredibly sad because I missed my best friend so much and my family couldn't understand it at all. So even though I was reluctant about Lyra/Will, I couldn't help loving the way they loved each other. And it was comforting to me that though they had to be apart, though they would make new friends and potentially fall in love with someone else, they were each still the other's source of strength.

Now, as an adult, "Will and Lyra" has become nearly as important to me as "Lyra" alone. I love my self-reliant, implacable gremlin girl - and I also love her when she's tired and sad and missing the familial love she never knew, and Will's right there just as tired and sad and lonely, and they push through not just together but because they choose to be. I'm such a sucker for characters who are used to being alone (and who are good at it) finding out how much more there is to learn about themselves through relying on someone else.

It's not too much to ask for someone who will dethrone God with me, is it? Haha.

[taiturner]

for the ask game: twd, fear and world beyond :)

GIVE ME A TV SERIES AND I'LL TELL YOU....

TWD

Favorite character: Alden, Sasha, Aaron

Funniest character: Eric is the first person that comes to mind (I love when he's petty<3) but I'm blanking on everyone else

Best-looking character: Magna, Siddiq

3 favorite ships: Aaron/Eric, Denise/Tara, and the most unpopular opinion of all but Rosita/Gabriel is So special to me. Honorable mention to Elijah and Lydia, I know their development happens in the background but the parallels between them are so loud anyway and those last few episodes really got me.

Least favorite character: N*gan

Least favorite ship:  Lori and Sh*ne, get him away from her

Reason why I watch it: I know most people hate the bloated cast but I love it for that reason. I favor the later half of the series when there are so many different communities intricately linked, it makes for some really fun dynamics everywhere and there will really never be another show that gives you that

Why I started watching it: I basically had to bully myself into liking apocalypse shows (which is so ironic now because... my favorite things). I tried once and didn't make it past the pilot but then I picked it up a few years later (when season 9 was airing) and got hooked

FTWD

Favorite character: Grace

Funniest character: I'm blanking 😔

Best-looking character: Luciana

3 favorite ships: Grace/Morgan, Sherry/Dwight, Al/Isabelle

Least favorite character: Troy

Least favorite ship:  I'm mostly blanking on every other ship in this show but actually the first one that comes to mind is Charlie (a 12 year old) and that 16 year old 🧍‍♂️ why'd they do my girl like that

Reason why I watch it: I don't always love the plot but I do love the characters so I've been holding on for them

Why I started watching it: I think I might've watched a few episodes of this before I ever started TWD but I was bored... I started again at season 4 because I heard about Al and I loved the concept of a journalist still interviewing people in the apocalypse, then I eventually went back to watch it all.

WB

Favorite character: Iris and Leo are tied but Hope, Felix, Huck, and Silas are sooo close behind.

Funniest character: Elton maybe

Best-looking character: Sorry to be a Joe Holt stan but ♡ Leo

3 favorite ships: Felix/Will, Iris/Percy, Huck/Dennis

Least favorite character: This is one of the rare shows that I love love love every single character so it's really hard to answer this so. I guess Jadis because I have the least connection to her. Everyone else is my family <3

Least favorite ship:  I don't think I really have an answer for this because I liked all the established ships... I think Lyla/Leo were cute even though she was betraying him :( so I guess them for technical purposes.

Reason why I watch it: People call it a "teen drama" but I think it's much more aligned with "family drama." At its core its entirely about FAMILY! And the family dynamics in this show are so incredible. The complex siblings, complex friendships, putting your entire trust in someone that's inevitably going to betray you, it's so good to me. I also think coming of age in the apocalypse is a really fun story to tell, especially since these people have lived in the apocalypse for 10 years but haven't actually experienced it. People who hate this show are boring <3

Why I started watching it: I had basically just finished watching TWD for the first time when this show was announced so I was excited to see it from the start, and the premise of it all sounded really fun and I was sooo sad when the premiere got pushed back like... a year. This show is my best friend now.

[scarthefangirl]

Lies and manipulation

Percy jackson x sister!reader | younger!sister!reader

Request: R is Percy’s teen younger sister and is like a sister to the Seven. Drew (from the Aphrodite cabin) wants to get back at the Seven for something, so they charmspeak R into doing something (maybe Drew makes R tell them lies or idk, up to you). When the Seven find out they’re really mad at Drew and protective over R. They get Drew to stop the charmspeak and comfort R when R has to deal with side effects from it. (An idea for those side effects could be that it’s really easy to persuade/get R to do something, an another camper takes advantage of that by getting R to do their chores idk).

Warnings: tons of lying, charm speak, fighting, being sad, regret, calling girls a whore, rushed writing

A/N: I'm sorry this is so bad 😅

Requested by: @jessromanoff / @ynscrazylife

Y/N passes the cabins as she rushes to the big house. She arrives at the huge victorian house and she hurriedly goes up the steps. She doesn't bother knocking, she just lets herself in. The infirmary isn't the most fun place to be, Y/N feels like she can sense the death crowding around it.

But she pushes her emotions aside and go to see Percy Jackson, Y/N's older brother. Annabeth, his girlfriend, is already there with Jason. They sit beside his cot and Annabeth is gripping his hand.

"You're an idiot." Y/N laughs, unable to restrain the giggles as she looks at her pitiful brother. He ran into a door and he broke his nose.

"Stop it." Percy pouts as he shifts slightly. Will said he could fix the nose, but that Y/N needs to stay with Annabeth and Jason while the ambrosia kicks in and heals the damage. So they wait awhile and comfort him when the healing process hurts.

~

Y/N sits with her legs criss crossed on her bed. She is reading a new book she grabbed on a trip into town. A sudden noise at the door of her cabin causes her to jump slightly. She sits up straighter, on alert. Y/N gets out of bed, thinking Percy is trying to scare her.

Y/N looks out the window, giving it a tug to open it. She pokes out her head and looks around the cabin porch. No one in sight. The daughter of Poseidon goes back to sit on her bed again, thinking Percy left. But another knock on the door causes the girl to groan. She stands up and heads to the door.

"Hello?" Y/N calls, slightly annoyed. She opens the door and looks around, only to be shoved in. It was to fast to see who pushed her. As Y/N struggles to her feet the person walks in, slamming the door shut.

"Drew?"

~

"Your turn Annabeth!" Leo Valdez laughs, waving his hand in front of Annabeth's gaze. She laughs sheepishly and takes a quick turn, completing one of her sets. Everyone groans as the blonde gets one step closer to winning.

"Great. Annabeth is going to win again. What a shocker." Y/N says, A bit aggressively. The group around the daughter of Poseidon give her concerned looks. Normally Percy's little sister is so laid back.

"Chill out it's just a game." Percy teases, nudging his little sister slightly. She glares at him viciously, and a few demigods gasp. What is this new found attitude?

By the end of game night everyone was pretty annoyed with Y/N. She threw a game board, ripped a card in half, and bit Percy. She also kicked Leo a few times, but that is understandable. They all head back to their cabins with their heads down.

Y/N runs up to Annabeth as she is on her cabins porch and Annabeth asks if there is anything wrong. Annabeth is genuinely concerned for her friend, for her sister.

"No, no, I'm alright. I just have something to tell you. You won't like it." Y/N says, seeming embarrassed or uncomfortable. Annabeth notices the discomfort and nervously replies,

"What's that?"

"Piper is talking crap about you to all the Aphrodite kids. Like they all hate you now. She said some really betraying stuff." Y/N deadpans, causing the grey eyed girl to stumble back.

"What kind of stuff?"

"A lot. Um, that you hook up a ton, that you use her to charm speak Percy, that you hurt Rachel and scared her away from Percy. A bunch of other stuff to." Y/N nods as if she feels remorse for Annabeth. Annabeth tears up and stomps into her cabin angrily. Y/N smirks playfully and heads to the Aphrodite cabin. She spots Drew and walks to her.

"I got Annabeth." Y/N whispers to the charm speaker. Drew nods her head towards Piper.

"Get all of them. Like I asked." Drew snaps rudely, almost breaking the spell on Y/N. But it doesn't. Y/N marches over to Piper and sits next to the dark haired girl.

"Hey Pipes..." Y/N pretends to have her mind elsewhere.

"Hey Y/N, you alright?"

"Yeah, it's just.. No. Nevermind." Y/N shakes her head with a dramatic sigh.

"What is it?"

"I overheard Jason saying some stuff about you to a ton of boys from camp."

"What was he saying?" Piper asks, raising an eyebrow.

"He was totally full on crap talking you. Well, just like, he was calling you a whore and how you just hook up all the time and wear inappropriate things for attention. He even said you charm speak people to get them in bed." Y/N hesitates, feeling bad about lying. She shouldn't feel bad.

"What?" Piper holds back the lump in her throat as she turns red with anger. Y/N nods.

"Sorry honey." Y/N says and she goes to the door. Drew winks at her from across the room and Y/N leaves the cabin. She goes to the Ares cabin, where Frank is staying. Y/N heads to the bed Frank is laying in, he has a book open in his palms. You sit next to him and give him a scowl. He looks at you and raises an eyebrow.

"I cannot believe you." You snap at the poor boy harshly.

"Why?! What did I do this time?" He mumbles, rethinking his past week trying to remember if he screwed up at all. He couldn't remember messing up at all.

"You hit on her!! HIT on her?!" Y/N lets her lip quiver as though to indicate the pain.

"On who?"

"You broke Hazel's heart by flirting with Katie Gardner." Y/N yells at him. She then stands and rushes out of his cabin before he can say anything more. She runs to her second to last stop. Hazel, in the Hades cabin, should be easy to stir up. Y/N goes into the cabin and tells Nico to leave. Well, forces him to.

"Hazel did you hear?" Y/N says, taking deep breaths as though she sprinted here. She didn't.

"Hear what?" The girl in front of Y/N says with a gentle smile.

"Frank and Isadora Brown got caught kissing in the Athena cabin!" Y/N acts as though it is an exciting fact. Hazel bursts into tears and fans her face with her hand as she begins to pace the room. After a bit Y/N leaves and goes to Leo. He is tinkering with some metal stuff.

"Leo Valdez I feel bad for you." Y/N hops on the counter of a table in bunker 9. He looks at her in surprise.

"Why?"

"Jason and Percy told the whole camp about the diaper incident."

"WHAT?! THAT WAS A FRICKEN SECRET. HIW DARE THEY?!" Leo screams, throwing a few scraps. Y/N dodges the pieces and hop off the table. He begins to ramble on in Spanish. Y/N sneaks out of the bunker, careful not to be caught in the crossfire.

~

When Y/N arrives in her own cabin she collapses on her bed and sighs. She didn't expect things too get this far. Deep in her soul she remembers that this is wrong. But she can't remember how to stop. She has to. She has no other options.

Y/N drifts in and out of sleep for awhile, having awful nightmares. Killing her friends, being killed, and worse. But a voice wakes her out of her last dream.

"Hey Y/N can we talk?" Percy asks gently, leaning on the ground to be eye level with his sister. She nods, but then groans. Nodding caused a major shock of pin in her head. She had been rushing around non stop and didn't acknowledge the headache she has.

"I'm worried Y/N." Percy states, sitting next to Y/N on the bed. She shrugs. "All of the people in our little group of friends have been fighting the last hour or so. They all got told these crazy rumors. And guess who told them those?"

"I did."

"Why Y/N? This isn't like you at all. I should be mad, but I am worried. Really worried. What is wrong?!" The black haired son of Poseidon asks.

"I, I can't remember. But, but, I know I have to." Y/N struggles to stay awake.

"Why do you have to do this?" Suddenly Y/N remembers that Drew said no one can know. But Y/N can't remember why it is bad to tell. She suddenly feels like Drew isn't helping her.

"Drew told me to. I think."

"You think?"

"Well, all I remember is her telling me to succeed or there would be consequences. She then said a bunch of words and next thing I remember I am supposed to make my friends mad?" Y/N strains to remember.

"I'm going to kill her." Percy sa, clenching his jaw. She stops him and hugs him tightly to keep him from going.

"Do they hate me?"

"No, no. We're going to have everyone come here and we'll explain. No one will hate you!" The green eyed boy assures Y/N. She hugs her brother tighter and lets a few tears loose. He comforts her as best he can, not sure how to make his sister feel better.

Eventually they get all their friends in the Poseidon cabin. Frank and Hazel sit opposite sides of the room, Frank giving her pleading looks while she glares at him. Piper and Leo are clearly talking crap about Jason, as they give him consistent looks. Annabeth and Jason sit next to each other angrily.

"Everyone, Y/N has a problem." Percy says.

"I lied. To all of you. None of those rumors were true, I'm sorry." Y/N says sheepishly. They all look at the girl in disbelief.

"Why?!" They demand in anger. They can't believe Y/N of all people would do this. She explains the whole situation, she can't help feeling super guilty.

"I'm going to kill that little jerk." Piper screams, standing up to leave. Hazel calls Drew a string of names that a child should never hear. The whole group boils with red hot frustration.

"I'm going to get her." Piper leaves the cabin and no one stops her. Y/N is crying on her bed, feeling awful. Piper and Annabeth give Drew a long, loud, speech.

~

As the days turned to weeks Y/N slowly deals with the side effects of Drew's little trick. The seven try their hardest to help Y/N, but she struggles mentally.

If you ask her to do something, she now struggles to resist saying no. She will most likely involuntarily say yes.

What that does to someone is horrible.

Y/N has trouble trusting anyone. How does she know they won't just use her? She is far to vulnerable for her liking. She feels so manipulated. So abused. So used.

"Can you grab that for me?" Percy asks Y/N to grab his bag of chips. He does it without thinking, not meaning to use you.

"No I can't." Y/N says, parting her lips in a tight line. She struggles to remain in composure and not get it.

"Yes!" Percy cheers, taking Y/N in his arms and hugging her. She nods, and Percy dances around with his little sister happily. When Annabeth and Hazel walk in they give the siblings puzzled looks.

"She said no!" Percy smiles at them. They burst into laughter and cheers. Annabeth hugs Y/N and Hazel dances with Y/N and her brother.

"We are so proud of you."

~

Tags: // @misselsbells06 //

Taglist and request open!

[anxiousnerdwritings]

Ooh I like South Park! Maybe Yandere!Cartman being obsessed with an older girl in the neighborhood? Maybe she’s like Scott Tenorman’s age he’s obsessed with her because she is kind to his enemy

Yandere Eric Cartman w/ Female!Teen!Reader Who’s Close To Scott Tenorman

It all started with getting his revenge on Scott Tenorman, that’s all Eric wanted. It just so happen during his endeavors that he came across something that would haunt him.

Eric just couldn’t wrap his head around it. Why were you hanging around someone like Scott Tenorman? Don’t you know what kind of person Scott is? How could you be friends with someone like him? Eric didn’t understand it. He didn’t want to! All he knew was that this wasn’t right and Scott had probably tricked/charmed you like he had himself. Did Scott get you to buy his pubes too?! Oh, he was so dead. Eric would make sure of it.

Eric is feeling a lot of things at this time. He’s pissed. He’s sad. He’s confused. But most importantly he feels betrayed. He’s sure that something has to be forcing you into interacting with Scott Tenorman. You obviously can’t be doing it out of your own free will, that would be crazy. Right?

Knowing that you have some kind of relationship with Scott Tenorman only fuels Eric’s thirst for revenge but now he wants even more. He wants to break Scott Tenorman. He wants to absolutely ruin him. Eric plans to cause as much physiological damage as possible. Those types of scars run deep and that’s just what he’s looking for.

Eric already has his plan for Scott but he wants to see just how far he can push it. He wants to take you away from Scott completely. He wants you to hate Scott. He needs you to see just what kind of person Scott really is. And he’s a douche.

Manipulative is an understatement when concerning Eric Cartman. He does this for a living really, it comes to him as easily as breathing does so it wouldn’t be much of a feat to manipulate you into seeing Scott Tenorman the way he wants you to. When things don’t go his way then Eric will bide his time until he knows you’ll be there to witness just how cruel Scott is to him. And he’s playing it up big time. He’ll cry, he’ll hide and he’ll cower just to further show how ‘tormented’ he’s been by Scott. Surely you’ll take the side of the crying little boy, right?

Once he gets you away from Scott then Eric can continue to go through with his plan of revenge. He of course wants you to witness his triumph over Scott Tenorman. Eric wants you there to watch Scott eat his chili and cry in front of Radiohead as they call him a crybaby. Eric needs this. It’s the only thing that will truly make him happy. At least, he thinks so. But what if you turn your back on him? You wouldn’t do that to him, right? Right?!

[atashinokaishaku]

Trial AU: Shouto’s Side

Part 1 | AO3 (PLEASE ADOPT)

Shouto’s Psychologist testifying (maybe a psych evaluation requested for the case or him asking Aizawa for a recommendation before all this) "Due to being objectified since an early age he has developed a tendency to not consider himself as a priority or even a factor. It's not that he thinks he didn't or doesn't deserve help, or that he feels he deserves a punishment over being unable to save his mother since he is aware that was his father responsibility"  "His reaction isn't breaking down and mindlessly taking a beating but to push forward by resenting and rightfully blaming his father" "That's the reason he doesn't intrinsically respects adults or authority figures (coughpolicechiefdogcough), due to the possibility, however small, of them being another Todoroki Enji, another Pro Hero, who do their job, but aren't truly heroes" "His attitude after being made aware of the consequences of long term overtraining since a frightening young age is worrying but not unexpected, in his mind his training hadn't been considered as "extreme" until he entered UA, so now, under Aizawa-sensei's supervision he's been adapted to a more adequate routine supervised by doctors." "In my opinion, Todoroki Shouto doesn't regard himself as a victim despite being one, he's used to the extremely demanding training; and his priority, his family, are out of danger, were his mother still at risk the probability of Shouto having reached out for help is visibly high" "He was betrayed by the only protection he had, the only human connection he had, her memory was his last hope on people" Shouto Also we're talking about the teen who got attacked at USJ and didn't hesitate to subdue all villains instantly and reprimand them for being sad excuses of adults, if a sudden villain attack isn't a risk, then his "not in danger" means "not in mortal danger" "He isn't afraid of Endeavour not because he isn't dangerous, but because there's nothing he can do to those Shouto loves, his mother is in the hospital, his siblings are invisible to him, Touya is already dead, the beating are the training he's subjected to daily, so yes, I believe he'd be beaten to the ground and still glare at his father and morse code "fuck you" on the floor" His father presence is integrated in every choice he makes, his only connection to people was him, and it's hate and anger "I hate liking Japanese style food, it feels like I'm him, like I was born to be like him, that there's nothing of me that's solely mine "  "I used to avoid Japanese sweets, since I knew he liked them, tried to convince myself that I wasn't like him even on the most trivial things. I was desperate to not see him when I looked in the mirror, I was oddly thankful to my scar for that. Now I'm able to realise I'm not less myself even if I like similar things, it doesn't invalidate my likes as my own just because we share the same interests" "When you want someone out of your life you detest everything that reminds you of them, even if they are a part of you. It's like trying to continuously tear off a part of yourself, you lose one of those pieces that makes you who you are" Reclaiming my tastes as my own, to freely allow myself to enjoy food with my friends without that oppressing feeling... is something I need more of. I like discovering my taste in music, in manga, teas, and sharing them with important people.  Why don't you blame your mother? "...her memory was my only comfort, and I clinged to it" "I can't sleep without a tatami floor, I can't calm down, it brings me to those times when he was out the house and I got to watch TV with her" "After... the more I thought about her the angrier I got, it was his fault she wasn't there anymore, but I wouldn't leave because she's still at that hospital, her care was in his hands, I wouldn't visit either, because... because my biggest fear is she seeing me and in her eyes all there'd be was Endeavour" "Her fearing me haunts me, she would heal as long as nothing reminded her of him, and I wouldn't take the risk of her relapsing" Why now? "Before UA I was running on determination, hate, resentment, anger, focused on refusing him completely... I didn't realise how exhausted I was until UA gave me time, a break, after my fight with Midoriya I was out of it, I needed to think, I'm the type who needs to ponder on a subject before setting on an answer. Besides, he isn't ignorant that after All Might's sudden retirement people needed hope, and as an established Pro Hero with an efficient and hard-working image, even with his harsh and serious exterior Endeshit is an extremely capable Pro Hero. Shouto's also sure he wouldn't suffer any lasting injury from Endeavour, since he needs his Masterpiece. "I knew this coming out would break people's trust in Pro Heroes" Shouto asking every Pro Hero/sidekick he meets a question "Do you think a bad person can be a good hero?" Everyone considered it a joke "You need to be a good person to be a Hero boy!" Aizawa is the first hero who answers differently, with a weary and serious look "I've seen villains saving people, and I know there's heroes who can destroy lives"  Shouto feels his teacher searching eyes, expecting him to tell him something, something they both know he won't be able to take back. A bad person can do good things, after all not all Pro Heroes are heroes. Shouto saying stuff like "I trust vigilantes more than Pro Heroes, they don't care for money, fame, influence or power" in national TV "Nro2 Pro Hero's son is a vigilante supporter" "I've never hid my scar, I've photographed, gone to class, appeared in TV, with a burn scar on my face; maids, neighbours, teachers, sidekicks, Japan, the world knows I have a scar on my face and that I'm the son of Flame Hero Endeavour" 

"If no one even bothered to ask about something so visible, despite always looking at me, then there's simply no one I'd trust to get help from" "I'm used to being seen, not as myself but as "his", "his masterpiece", "his son" "his legacy" "something Endeavour graciously will leave to the society once he retires" "I'm used to the looks, the hired people, the paparazzi, the invasion of privacy." "But my mom isn't. Maybe she was at some point, or maybe she just held it in along with everything else, but she needs more, and I want her to have more. Since meeting new people, I've realised there's more than just this oppressive lifestyle, and the more hope of getting to know them and my siblings the more unbearable the weight becomes, it's not as easy as when I had nothing." Rei "He was such a shy boy, I'd like to say I was able to imagine him turning into a bright and happy child when he grew up but.. I'd only seen him flinching and wary of everyone. I was wrong of course, I didn't consider what my breakdown would trigger, the anger tired him, he's so strong, even more than he was when he tried to protect me, not because of his training, but because, despite everything, he's still that kind little boy whose eyes would light up when he saw someone being rescued, turn to me and say 

"Mom you are next right?" 

[cdroloisms]

i think that although the theories/aus of puffy's son dream and wil's brother dream are interesting to think about, especially the implications, the (probably) canon statement that he really has no family to me hits the hardest. because it's just dream, you know. his friends hate him, he has none (p relatable), but i can't really imagine,, both not having friends and not having a family. that's kind of what keeps a lot of us sane and okay ( - quill anon (same anon from the c!tubbo c!wil ask) )

ouch quill anon ,, this ask Hurt. it’s true - usually, it’s our family and friends that keep us going, that are the ones that we fight for and live for and love for. c!dream’s “family” was his reasoning behind ,, a lot of the stuff he did, good or bad, and even now you can hear his desperation in getting someone, anyone to visit sometimes, in wanting to know how people are doing outside the cell. 

at the same time, he’s a character very much defined by his solitude, by his isolation, by all of the time he has spent,, alone. by the alliances that had been broken, betrayed, forgotten. by how- at the end of the day - he sits for hours on end in an obsidian box with nothing but his thoughts to accompany him. it’s awfully ,, sad, despite everything he’s done. through it all, he’s alone. he survives the horrors of the vault (until this current arc) alone. nobody’s there to hear his thoughts. nobody knows his mindset, or feelings, or wants, or anything that really makes him human. for someone so driven by people, he spends so much time completely isolated - and it’s. honestly really, really tragic. 

anyway, this is a sad little drabble set pre-roommates arc abt c!dream in the prison, alone, bc he makes me Sad. 

tw: mentioned torture, abuse, violence, broken bones, blood, injuries, mental deterioration, isolation, panic attacks, self-deprecation, trauma, memory loss, death, contemplations of death, dark content, dark imagery

The blank book in his hand stares at him stubbornly, the stark white of the untouched pages nearly burning his eyes, used to the dark walls and floor of the cell. Dream’s hand shakes around his quill, ink splotches marring the pages from where his too-unsteady hand had let the nib brush against the paper and left freckles of black spots behind. He pulls his thumb back from the bottom left corner, hissing slightly when it leaves a dull red fingerprint behind, a smudge of half-dried blood further dirtying the paper.

He’d pulled out one of the books for some reason, probably on a whim, letting his hands run over the leather spine and along the thread of the binding absentmindedly after Quackity left for the day. He hadn’t touched them in a while - he liked to save them, at the beginning, just in case visitors came and he wanted to thank them or if he needed to communicate (though he hadn’t gone silent since Sapnap left, ‘cause Sapnap wanted him to talk and he doesn’t know why he still clings to that visit when it’s been months and he still hasn’t come back, but he promised that if Dream behaved he’d visit again and - it’s stupid to hope, but Dream can’t give up, not yet) and then he kept them because he would need them for the revive book and the Warden would confiscate them, anyway, so it was better not to get attached. Regardless, he’d stubbornly ignored the chest of books for a long time, let the remain closed and the clasp go unlatched as he wasted his days away watching the walls drip bright purple and pretend he didn’t miss his clock.

Until now.

He runs his fingers along the surface of the paper again, ignoring the red and black smudges they leave in their wakes, ruining the previously unblemished pages. The paper is smooth, bearing a very slight grain, and smells clean and woody - this book must’ve been a newer one the Warden replaced into the chest. He’d counted the pages a few times, front and back - there are fifty sheets, so a hundred pages to use as he sees fit, completely empty and untouched. The quill shakes in his hand, the tip pressed against the paper, unmoving.

What is there to write?

He’s forgotten why he pulled out the book in the first place, already - his head keeps getting fuzzier, memory impossibly fragmented and seemingly worsening with every passing day. He knows he had a reason because he’d been very determined about it, had spent what must have been hours dragging himself along the obsidian floor with a broken shinbone jutting out of his right leg and a dislocated left shoulder that he’d taken an extra few minutes to jam back in place by pressing it against the floor. Something had come into his head, probably in the middle of Quackity’s daily session, and he’d found himself desperate to write it down before he forgot despite the throbbing of his head and the pain in his chest making it impossible to take a full breath.

(He must have talked back, or acted defiant, or something - he doesn’t remember much besides the look Quackity had given him after, dark and angry and tight with rage. There had been a hand tangled in his hair, a blade jammed right up against his throat, curses and screams in his ears dying into a singular ringing echo as the blade was pushed deeper and deeper. It wasn’t until a few minutes later when Quackity realized that he’d gone too deep and that Dream was choking on his own blood - his memories shatter, and there’s nothing but more screaming, red and black and blood everywhere, warm against his skin, the sweet-sour taste of glistening melon on his tongue, a healing pot desperately stitching his skin together and bringing him back from the darkness that he’d swelled in the corners of his vision - mostly, he remembers everything going cold and numb and he’d realized, halfway into the Void, that he would never leave the Vault alive.)

His hands tighten on the book as he breathes a shallow, harsh breath through his teeth, because - oh. Oh. He looks back at the trembling white plume in his hand, at his shaking fingers clenched tightly near the end, and he swallows the thick, heavy feeling in his throat. Quackity had- and he had- and then-

Right.

He forces air into his lungs steadily, counting the seconds off in his head. He’d learned how to stave off panic attacks on his own ages ago, and the knowledge had come to full use in the Vault - the struggle to stay calm seems harder with every passing day, but he can’t exactly risk himself passing out every three seconds when he’s inevitably set off by the smell of blood or a twinge of pain or any of the million other triggers crammed into this tiny box that’s been the source of all of his torment for months. He keeps up the slow, steady breathing for another few minutes, just enough time to pull back the darkness creeping in from the edges of his vision, and looks back down at the blank paper.

It stares back at him, almost judgmental of his hesitancy. You opened me up, it seems to challenge him, why aren’t you writing? The quill still shakes in his hand. He doesn’t know if it’ll ever stop shaking again.

Dear, he begins, almost in defiance, proof that he Is Going To Write Something, thank you very much, he isn’t just going to chicken out and leave it a blank book (like you have before?) but the quill tip digs into the paper as he grinds to a sudden halt, the empty space next to the first word nearly taunting. He feels his mouth dry, heat rising behind his eyes - the book, silent and blank as ever, stays imprinted in his vision even as he squeezes them shut.

Dear, what a stupid, sentimental way to start a letter. He can’t even fool himself into thinking of it as a business venture, turn it into an elaborate plan to escape and address it to either Techno or Wilbur (who would never receive his message anyway), not without admitting his regard for the two edged past his pretense of professional interested and owed favors. He can hardly write it to Ranboo, not without compromising their already fragile alliance (if it even exists, anymore. The enderman hybrid had yet to visit for months - and sure, it was probably for the best, who knows how Quackity would react if he found out about the nature of their relationship, but that didn’t make it sting any less.)

In the back of his minds, name rise from where he’d kept them carefully buried despite his best efforts. Punz. Bad. Puffy. Sapnap. George. He shakes his head, trying to wave away them from his thoughts, but the effort is as fruitless as it has always been - he stares at the first word angrily, like it has betrayed him, and receives no response. The words are messy, shaking, his script overly looping and rounded like a child’s. He hates it, hates how cheery it looks, even on the bloodstained page - it looks like the beginning of a birthday card, or a perhaps a particularly dedicated Halloween party invite. Like he’s some sort of lovesick teen, writing letters to crushes that would never pay him a second glance. He laughed a little, without any real humor - minus the romance, that description isn’t all that far off.

Because- well. His memories might be shot to all hell, but he doubts he’ll ever forget the hatred on Sapnap’s face, a loaded crossbow pointed between his eyes, George’s expression set in disinterested apathy - “George, you can give the word.” Bad’s face, twisted in pity and resignation, voice carefully measured as he looks away and gestures at the cell, “you did do some pretty bad stuff to get put in here though, Dream,” the hidden “you deserve it” that he’d heard, just as clearly behind the words. Punz - “you should’ve paid me more” - jaw set stiffly as people poured through the portal, watching, wordless, as Dream bled out twice on that blackstone floor. Puffy, poorly hidden disgust flickering over her face as she looks away from him being dragged away in chains, sword held steady in her hands. Sapnap, that same fiercely determined expression on his face so familiar that thinking of it aches, even now, “it’s gonna be me, who takes your final life.” Months and months and months and months, alone.

Always, always, alone.

The page makes a quiet, complaining groan under his pen - he looks down to see it torn under the tip of his quill, the word completely unreadable under line after line of black ink scratched over it, each one deeper than the last. He stares blankly at it for a few minutes longer, the brief flash of anger that had seared through his body settling into numbness once more.

To whoever may find this: he scratches the words on the page slowly, keeping his print deliberately blocky and neat. The heavy feeling in his throat returns, stronger than ever, and he ignores it as he pushes on.

He pauses for a moment, wondering what more to write. Apologies? Accusations? He could detail every second that he remembers from Quackity’s visits, describe every inch of pain that had been pulled from his aching lungs, every line etched into his skin. He could apologize for every act of cruelty that had ever been caused by his hands, every bridge he’d ever torched to light the path to a better future. He could explain - everything, every tortured thought that had circled his head for hours on end and every night that had passed without any sleep and every time he’d pushed on without complaint or hesitancy because it would be worth it, even if he was the only one who saw it, it would be worth it because he’d sacrifice too much for it to be anything but. He could- he could, he could write and write until he’d filled every page of every book back and front, and would they even believe him? Would it even matter?

Goodbye, he writes at last. It feels strangely final. (He won’t be leaving this Vault alive. He knows this as surely as he knows that he will leave this world uncared for, unheard. As surely as he knows that he’ll always be alone.) With a quick snap of magic following the signing of his name, the book is preserved, shining slightly with a purple glow as he sets it back down in the chest. He looks around, the cell once again stiflingly quiet without the book to busy him, Dream once again completely alone as he’s been for - well.

(Pandas, eyebrows drawn in uncharacteristic seriousness from the usually painfully spirited eight-year-old, pinkie raised between the two of them, solemnity belied by the gap in his front teeth poking out between his lips.

“We’ll be together forever,” he whispered with the volume control you’d expect from a kid that age, which is to say that it wasn’t much of a whisper at all, but Dream, newly ten years old, remembers being particularly moved by the gesture anyway, moving to hesitantly hook his own pinkie in the other’s.

“And we’ll never be alone ever again,” he’d replied, voice faraway with a disbelieving sort of awe.”

“Never,” Pandas’ voice had been just as firm as his first statement, twisting his wrist to tighten the grip of their linked fingers further. “Best friends for ever and ever, right?”

“For ever and ever.”)

“For ever and ever,” he whispers, eyes fluttering shut as he slumps down against the floor, and only the lava bubbles in reply.

[xoluvx]

betty; p.parker

» pairing: peter parker x reader » song: betty » word count: 1.9K

There was a flutter in Peter's heart as he watched you from behind his locker. He was pretending to dig for something, but his head peeked from behind the door watching you enter the school. The glow of senior year oozed off you and the never-ending giggles of your friends wrapped around you like a safety blanket. Your bag hung on one of your arms as the other linked with an arm of one of your friends.

Peter's heart thumped as you approached his locker. Usually, you would come up to him, peck his cheek, tell him how much you missed him, and celebrate the fact you were finally seniors in high school. But that wasn't the case. You walked right past him as if he were invisible.

He followed you down the hall with his eyes, the chatter among your friends grew softer as you disappeared in the crowd of freshmen rushing to find their classrooms. His eyes were on you when you briefly turned your head finding his eyes. Embarrassed, you turned quickly. But his eyes were still on you until he lost you in the crowd.

Shutting his locker, Peter sighed.

"Hey," Ned's voice rang in the hallway as he hurried to Peter.

Peter greeted Ned, as they walked side by side towards their first period. "Are you going to her party?" Ned asked glancing at Peter. He knew it was a sensitive topic, one he hadn't disclosed all the details about yet.

"She hates me," Peter responded shrugging his shoulders digging his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

"What happened with Gwen anyway?" Ned asked bluntly. He was tired of being left in the dark, of tiptoeing around the issue and tired of his best friend ditching him for most of the summer.

Peter turned to look at Ned with a blank look, flashbacks of summer invading his mind.

"Do you need a ride?" The voice startled Peter. He'd heard the car coming, but he hadn't turned to see who was approaching him. When the car stopped next to him, he recognized the girl. She had been in one of his classes, but they'd never spoken before.

"Oh no, thank you." Peter shook his head politely. He was carrying his skateboard, a wheel was busted so he was left to walk the rest of the way home.

"It's not a problem, I have nowhere to be." She added smiling at him, lifting her sunglasses, Peter made eye contact. Her eyes were friendly, lips curling into an inviting smile. "I don't bite," she added unlocking her car.

Peter gulped but approached her car. If he walked, it would take him another half hour. Why not?

"Peter, right?" she said. It was then Peter realized she was chewing gum, she blew a bubble take popped as she brought her sunglasses down. Peter nodded.

"Gwen. We had English together," she mentioned driving down the road. "Why are you out here all alone?" she asked casually keeping her eyes on the road.

Peter shifted in his seat, his skateboard awkwardly between his legs. "I was at my friend Ned's house," He said looking at her briefly. "But my skateboard broke-" he continued talking looking down at the skateboard with the missing wheel.

"You know how to fix it?" she asked.

"I think I have to get it fixed," he confessed. Or maybe Ned could help, but that would require transportation that he didn't have.

"I can take you," she offered and Peter's eyes widen a bit. He was confused by her generosity. He barely knew this girl.

"I have to get home. My aunt is waiting for me." It was true. Aunt May didn't play when it came to dinner. Even though the sun was still out, he had to be home for dinner in less than an hour.

"Tomorrow," she shrugged nonchalantly glancing at Peter as they stopped at a red light. Peter's eyes scanned her face, her round features, and her long lashes. The gum expanded once again in a small bubble.

"Sure. Okay," Peter smiled as he gave her directions towards his house.

Peter should've known then. He should've known how things would end, but he was too gullible and he missed you too much. You'd taken the camp counselor job and though you would only be gone for five weeks, they felt like the longest five weeks. Gwen was filling that void.

Gwen's company made the days slightly more bearable. It was innocent. It started that way at least.

"I saw them at the arcade together," Inez's voice was becoming staticky. Your thoughts fogged as you heard what she was saying. "I wanted to call as soon as I saw, but you were at camp." She frowned, it was ingenuine though. Like she was living for the hurt expression on your face.

She went in for a hug, but you moved out of her way leaving the mall. You weren't going to entertain this. Is that why Peter wasn't there like he said he would? At your doorstep waiting for you to come back from camp?

You could feel the tears forming as you approached your car. Fumbling with the door you finally pulled it open sliding into the driver's seat slamming the door, gripping the steering wheel as you let the tears flow. Your chest felt tight.

This had to be the worst welcome home ever.

"Hey," Ned waved and you turned in his direction. He was waving at you with a friendly smile. Peter was next to him looking like a lost puppy. You faked a smile and waved, ignoring Peter, before you got pulled away by your friends to your table in the cafeteria.

"Are you going to talk to him?" one of your friends, Alice, asked drinking from her juice box. Another cut in and it was all too much for you to process. They knew as much as Inez had told you, and they knew you hadn't spoken to Peter since you left for camp.

"I think you should talk to him," Abigail added with a concerned expression.

"No, don't. He's not worth it. Remember how he didn't even come and rescue you when Jack refused to take no for an answer at the dance?" Rebecca retaliated.

You remembered clearly. You'd just started dating. Peter was still shy. It wasn't a big deal. You weren't even expecting Peter to come to the dance and you wouldn't have known that he was there unless Inez made it a point to tell you later that night as you walked towards the parking lot.

"We've already gone over that, it wasn't a big deal." You reasoned still on Peter's side. Because that was the thing, even if Peter had betrayed your trust, you felt like you'd always be on team Peter.

Glancing at his table, you saw him talking with Ned and you wished you could just go up there and forget everything ever happened press reset, and start senior year how you'd been planning with Peter.

"What if he shows up at your party?" Rebecca asked and you snapped back to your table. Shrugging you poked at your veggies before pushing your tray away. You weren't hungry.

The week went by in a flash, but each day felt longer than the previous. You wrapped your cardigan tightly around your body as you got out of bed. It was Saturday, in a few hours crowds of people would be in your backyard celebrating the start of the last year of high school.

But you were too caught up on Peter.

The sound of a text notification caught your attention.

Can we talk? - Ned

That was weird. Ned wasn't usually one to text you. Peter was always there as the middle man. You were curious.

What's up? You typed waiting for his text in anticipation. Your phone rang and you caught your breath. You were expecting him to continue texting.

"Hello?" you asked cautiously.

"Don't hang up, please. I need to talk to you. You need to hear me out, please-" it was Peter. His voice filled your body with warmth until you remembered.

"Peter," your voice cracked. What could you say to him? Nothing, you were about to hang up when you heard his voice again.

"Don't hang up. I was stupid. I missed you and Gwen was there, and I know that's not an excuse for what I did but I never stopped thinking of you-" he was out of breath speaking quickly.

You felt your heart tighten, the familiar feeling of tears forming in your eyes took over.

"I'm sorry, Peter." You hung up. You couldn't deal with this. Not when Abigail and Rebecca were on their way. Wiping the tears, you discarded the cardigan on your bed. The one he'd bought for you last Christmas.

-

"Are you having fun?" Abigail asked squeezing your hand lightly. She was speaking over the loud music, her nose close to your ear. Nodding, you feigned a smile before looking into the crowd. No Peter.

"I'll be back," you motioned towards your house letting her know you needed to grab something.

But in reality, you needed some space. You'd been looking forward to this day. Towards your last year of high school, but plans changed. Sighing you sat on your porch. You could still hear the music and though the party was in your backyard, you needed a breath of air that wasn't congested by teens.

Swinging on the porch swing, you leaned your head back looking at the silent street. That's when you saw a figure. One hand deep in the pockets of his jeans, a skateboard in the other. It was Peter.

"Hi," his voice echoed drowning out the music. Your heart skipped a beat and you straightened up on the porch swing. You planted your hands on either side of you grounding you.

"What are you doing here?" you asked carefully getting off the swing.

"Just listen to me please," he said climbing up the three steps of your porch. "I messed up, I know I did." He looked at you with sad eyes placing his skateboard down. "It meant nothing to me. Gwen was a distraction. One that ruined the best thing that's happened to me," he was sincere with his words. His tone was gentle as he stepped forward.

"I thought becoming an Avenger was the best thing that happened to you," you joked folding your arms. That got a small chuckle out of Peter.

"That's a close second," he joked back, this time it was your turn to laugh softly. You were falling back into your comfortable state. One where only you and Peter existed.

"I can't ask you to forget what happened-" he was stepping closer. "-but please forgive me, I will do anything." He reached for your hands, your fingers intertwining easily.

"Anything?" you asked, your voice cracking.

Peter squeezed your hands nodding.

"Kiss me," you whispered pulling Peter closer with your hands still tangled together. A goofy smile spread across Peter's face and he happily closed the gap between your bodies.

He let go of your hands so he could cup your face. Yours instantly wrapped around his torso.

"I missed you," he whispered against your lips, your noses touching.

Smiling you kissed him again. The fabric of his soft lightweight sweater felt right under your fingertips. You could smell his fabric softener and shampoo.

It felt like home.

folklore masterlist

[skipps-writes-for-gojo-satoru]

I'm not sure Gojo has ever even shown an interest to any girls.

He calls Utahime weak and teases her by making fun of her, essentially- which she hates. Mei Mei is incredibly strong and beautiful, and Gojo acknowledges her skill but that's it. I also noticed that in the anime (the manga doesn't have honorifics, so please correct me if I'm wrong) but he calls her Mei-san rather than Mei Mei. Therefore, I don't think he ever tried to get much closer to her than the interactions we've seen. When she asks him if he'd comfort her if she cried, he tells her that's she strong- she wouldn't cry. I thought it was interesting that while Mei Mei's question was slightly flirty, Gojo answered so simply, without any teasing.

He calls Shoko by her first name, which is understandable since they spend more time together being in the same grade. He realizes that her ability is rare and useful, but like with Utahime and Mei Mei he doesn't go any further than that. He mostly speaks to her about work related things and doesn't flirt or tease much at all.

Honestly, I think Gojo actually respects his female colleagues and mostly pokes fun at Utahime because she's so uptight and strict. Shoko and Mei Mei are more relaxed and self-assured, and Gojo recognizes their skills and compliments them for it rather than teasing them. I doubt Gojo really thinks Utahime is truly weak more than he just loves riling her up. Other than that, Gojo's pretty respectful.

Also, in the Hidden Inventory arc, Gojo was bombarded with screaming from all the girls excited to see him. Other than pulling his shades down so they could see his face- after they asked him to, btw- he didn't really do much else. He didn't even react much to the teacher giving him her phone number. His only comment was "what a fun school," and it's interesting to see that while lots of girls do appreciate his looks, he acts only mildly amused.

Other than that one model as his wallpaper, we don't really see Gojo flirt or show interest with anyone. He only really teases Utahime to piss her off- I suspect he hates how much she follows the rules like Nanami does, who he teases often as well. He likely just enjoys annoying people so stern because rules just don't sit well with him (especially because of what those "rules" had done to Geto).

It's just a possibility, but he could be one of those guys who's more interested in work than pleasure- I know, he's handsome, but not all handsome people are players and cheaters. I think that's a horrible stigma and a lot of attractive people irl are judged and criticized solely for their looks. People make too many assumptions on someone just based on their genes, and I think it's pretty shallow to think Gojo's a womanizer just because he's attractive. And he knows he's attractive- but when did being confident in yourself make you a philanderer? Gojo has never used his looks manipulatively at all.

It's definitely a possibility that he would be a womanizer, but I'd say it's unlikely based in what we've seen. To sum it all up, Gojo doesn't show interest in anyone. He teases Utahime often, likely for the same reason be teases Nanami- they're too uptight. Shoko and Mei Mei are both incredibly skilled and beautiful sorcerers, and he does acknowledge and compliment them for it, but he doesn't tease or flirt with them. He's respectful, and he works with them as his colleagues. He didn't get distracted by the teen girls fawning over him either, or suddenly get overtly cocky or show off, only sliding his glasses down so they could see his face, and even then he acted only mildly amused. Also, when Miwa asked him for a picture, he didn't even stay and chat with her or anything (I know she's a minor, but if he truly was a womanizer, he would have at least stayed to hear her compliment him or anything to feed his ego) Maybe ask her "Oh, you want a picture with me? The strongest? How cute~" A flirty comment, a joke, something to fuel his own ego, but he doesn't do that. He doesn't act in a way that conveys he openly pursues attention from women. He just takes the picture with her and walks off casually.

Therefore, other than the fact that he's handsome- and I know many people who would assume things about someone based on their attractiveness, which is a terrible stereotype- Gojo doesn't show much interest in flirting at all. He could be the type of guy who works more than plays- and there's plenty of guys who are handsome but aren't super interested in playing around. Being handsome doesn't automatically mean he's the type to sneak around and have affairs here and there. It's completely realistic for a handsome man to be uninterested in any kind of relationships- not all men are sex crazed, and being a tease to his friends doesn't make Gojo a flirt either. Teasing your friends is perfectly normal.

Therefore, Gojo being a 28 year old virgin is totally possible- not everyone's a sex crazed teen who only thinks about what's between their legs, and basing it on what normal Japanese teens do is unfair. Neither Gojo or his lifestyle is exactly normal, and there's definitely barriers when it comes to experiencing normal youth activities for Gojo's generation- especially Gojo's generation. Yuji's generation definitely has more freedom to do fun things because of what Gojo has done to give the youth more freedom- things he hasn't been able to experience himself in his youth, like playing baseball during the exchange event. That was the first time they ever did something different to tradition, and that was only because of Gojo's consideration.

Gojo's youth was filled with blood, exorcising, and choosing between life and death. The deaths Yuji and co. witnessed were what Gojo experienced as well, if not worse. Gojo's task in his youth was to protect the weak, and he found that burdensome. At least, until Geto betrayed them, and Gojo realized the new burden he had to bear in changing the Jujutsu world because of what it had done to his only best friend.

There are definitely more important things in Gojo's mind than just losing his virginity, like saving people and choosing who to save, whether he should kill or not kill.

Gojo is the strongest, but he also bears the biggest burden- and that burden is something he chose to bear, and being the strongest is something he chose to be. Because before Geto left, it was "We are the Strongest." Now, Gojo worked tirelessly so that he could say "I am the Strongest."

And that's not something you can do while sleeping around. I think a lot of people fail to recognize just how hard Gojo works for himself and others. They just think, oh he's the strongest, so it should be easy for him. But it's really, really not that simple, is it? Especially when you have to do it on your own, and even then Gojo realizes that his strength alone isn't enough to save people. He can't save everyone by himself- It's not enough for just him to be the Strongest, so he works diligently to build and inspire his students to stand with him.

He's actually a very deep and emotional man who cares about his students and especially, even now, his best friend. Everything he does is for their sake- he sacrifices the normal life he could have lived, like Nanami had done, for their sake. And he fights with the higher ups, takes the brunt of their ire, and laughs it off, acting as if he fine, like a dad pretending he's superman for his kid's sake. But Gojo is burdened, and he's tired, and he hardly sleeps, and he has the most missions- he's the Strongest, which means everyone needs him, and he bears it.

Sorry for ranting again tho. I think I went into two different topics lol oops- 🤔

OUR SAVIOR 🤔 EDUCATING PEOPLE pay attention ya'll another thing I've noticed in the latest episode is that in his phone contacts he actually writes Utahime's name properly like formally no emojis or teasing shit he actually sees them as his colleagues people he can rely on his field of work and yes about the whole thing when he bursted into riko's class man was absolutely clueless just silent as a teacher tries to give him his number. I'm pretty sure as a child Gojo wasn't allowed to attend public schools due him being in danger or putting others in danger so he doesn't know much about public schools or normal people in general since he spends all his time with people from the jujutsu society.

That is definitely true just because someone is good looking that doesnt mean he's some cheap womanizer. I see a lot of people shipping him and Utahime together which is understandable ship who you like but I don't think Gojo as any ulterior motives like wooing Utahime by teasing her he just is plainly teasing ya know like friends do but in this case Utahime hates his guts and he doesnt know. I mean it takes some amount of hate to try to throw hot tea at someone 😂

While certainly I agree Gojo's teen like wasn't the best it was like he literally had a full time job at that age but who's to stay he didn't go messing around one time? I'm sure during his teen days he wanted to experience things he didnt get to to but now could because he lives on his own now. But maybe he didnt at all who knows? Which also raises another question, I wonder if he has any romantic experiences? And this was all before what happened in the hidden inventory arc after that I can see him more becoming invested in his duty and with what happened with geto as well would of definitely had a huge impact on him to try harder even though hes the strongest so that the next generation wouldn't have to experience the things he went through.

It's really sad if you really think about it what hes been through and what he has to shoulder all while keeping the facade that he's okay, I bet there were times he cursed his powers and his life....but he bears with it anyways because everyone is counting on him....

And don't be sorry at all! I am actually really learning alot about Gojo from you. Please continue to tell us your thoughts and feelings. I don't mind at all ❤ and thank you for taking the time to write 💕

[mithliya]

you can just respond with "I can't answer" or something if this is too personal/deep for you to answer

how do I get over being cheated on? I was in a relationship with a boy for just over 2 years (both 16 now) and he broke up with me out of nowhere (on Oct 2) he claimed it was for "mental health" and he "needed space to find himself", but coke to find 2 weeks later he's already with another girl. the catch? he's with a girl that I made him block ON OUR 2 YEAR ANNIVERSARY because she called him hot. I don't think it's a coincidence.

based on the timeline and other information (don't wanna make this too long), the logical conclusion is that he cheated on me. I'm struggling with insecurities about my body because she has much bigger boobs than I do, and I'm like a d cup anyway. he's the boy I had my first EVERYTHING with, so I feel super betrayed.

it's just so hard being mad constantly, especially at someone I used to care so much about. plus the girl is obviously trying to start shit so I blocked her, but it's shitty thinking about him getting with another girl like I meant nothing. especially since he claimed the breakup was because he "couldn't talk to me" (lie) and he "stayed up every night thinking about killing yourself" (and sticking your dick in a senior with bigger tits changes that??)

anyway. even just ranting helped. I chose this blog because I'm a radfem and I look up to you, but I can't message you because people don't know my age. thanks

tbh good riddance. he was literally lying to you. don’t you think it’s better to get rid of him sooner than later? imagine that you stayed with this guy, being like idk 24 and having wasted a decade on him only to find out his mountain of lies and betrayal. it’s good that it ended now instead of after. and it’s not a reflection of you, or your boobs or your body. girl you’re a D cup!!! im a 25 year old woman who’s a B 😭 like truly theres no need to be worrying about your boobs being too small when you’re 16 and a D cup bc some asshole guy u were with is now with a woman whose boobs look bigger. your breast size doesn’t determine your worth at all and you’ll find someone better who doesn’t make you feel bad about your body which im sure is fine AS IS. bigger breasts come with many cons anyways, like struggling to find fitting bras, back pain, constant sexual harassment, etc. it sucks that he’s a lot of your firsts, but those experiences should be viewed as separate from him as a person. did you enjoy your first kiss and whatever else at the time? that’s what matters. the person can go get fucked. so many people’s firsts were absolutely terrible. its often the case but you’ll have more experiences and your firsts will ultimately be nothing but a distant memory, i promise. what matters is it wasn’t traumatic or forced on you in some way, bc those are the things that really stick and fuck with you. but you don’t need to hate on that older girl he’s now with either, he’s the asshole here and who knows what’ll end up happening to her since she’s in his vicinity. damn maybe it’d even be better for you and her to talk to one another and for u to warn her about his lying. maybe she can even confirm for you whether or not he was straight up cheating too. he’s clearly emotionally manipulative and YOU DESERVE BETTER!! also. you’re literally 16. you have your entire life and future ahead of you. he’s a piece of shit and his behaviour is no reflection of you but give yourself time and space to heal + grieve. i promise you he’ll eventually be so irrelevant to you and you’ll laugh at what an ass he is in the future. you’ll find someone great and do many great things. he’s one guy from your teen years that you had a teen romance with and there’ll be many more and much better, without any lies or cheating. allow yourself to be sad, and to be angry. you won’t be that way forever. talk to your close, dear friends to help you process it. watch stuff about these situations and see how others dealt with it too if you’d like. you’re not alone in this. you’re still young and relatively inexperienced in this regard, and that of course makes it hurt more (not to mention teen hormones making your emotions even harder to manage). be forgiving to yourself and do things you enjoy as well. you’ll be okay, im sure of it.