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justalads · 4 years ago

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c!niki and c!wilbur enjoyers. pspspspspspsps

alright guys so last night i rewatched pretty much all of the pogtopia arc. and this isn’t meant to be a big, important analysis post (it’s kind of incomprehensible), because my brain is fried from, you know. rewatching pretty much all of pogtopia. but i do have some stuff i’d like to say.

(this also just became a niki meta sorry i love her. i really just got emo about her during the second half of this and it got long. i have a lot of feelings about her and wilbur’s friendship.)

it’s a pretty general conclusion that wilbur’s real “downfall” began on october 8th, during the stream “who are you go away”. of course, his spiral and the process of him losing faith had begun much earlier, more around the end of the first war or during the election. but the big switch, so to say, was definitely here, when as wilbur walks back from schlatt’s announcement, he asks tommy if they’re the bad guys.

this entire scene was so interesting to me. wilbur here is a man who has lost hope, someone who is backed into a corner morally and has nothing left. he points out that they can never really reclaim l’manburg without forever tainting it, and that schlatt knows this. the entire half an hour or so before, schlatt has been taunting wilbur about losing that power. the emphasis of the festival on “democracy” is so clearly a barb thrown at wilbur, and it works.

wilbur’s “nothing left to lose” in this vod is a mirror to niki’s “you know what they say about a woman who has nothing left to lose”. this will not be the first time they mirror each other.

basically, wilbur’s angry. when schlatt announced the festival, wilbur realized that maybe it wasn’t a terrible thing. so once he worked around into the mindset of “we’re the bad guys”, he was able to justify saying he was going to blow up the nation with no remorse. he wants chaos! he wants no survivors!

does he do it? god no.

during the streams leading up to november 16th, wilbur is consistently scared. he goes back and forth on it, and makes multiple “conditions” that determine whether he’s going to do it or not, almost begging someone to stop him. he whispers to himself that he’s scared, that his hands are shaking, that he’s not sure if it’s the right thing to do. because despite what he says about “not caring about any of them”, the instant niki is threatened after tubbo’s death, wilbur walks up to schlatt and tells him that if he’s going to kill anyone it should be him. later, when quackity and tommy talk him down from pressing the button, he can’t press it because they’re there and he can’t bring himself to kill them as well.

but he has no problems with putting his own life at risk. he refuses to wear armor half the time, and actively places himself in harm’s way to save others. he still cares about everyone else, as much as he says he doesn’t. even when he does cause harm to others, during november 16th, he immediately begs phil to kill him. “look, they all want you to.” he can’t live with what he’s done, and how he’s hurt people, but he couldn’t allow manburg to continue.

the man is terrified and angry and he can’t win. and even as he tries to stuff himself into the mind of someone who doesn’t care, he cannot. when he finally does, he cannot live with being that person.

but the reason i rewatched this arc was to see niki’s point of view, especially after her statements during her last stream. i genuinely think that wilbur’s only betrayal of her was pressing the button, because he betrayed everyone. they might have known he was going to do it, but they had faith he wouldn’t.

wilbur cared a lot about niki. her life under schlatt was awful, wilbur hated that she was suffering, and the scene where wilbur plants himself directly in the center of the festival and tells schlatt to kill him instead hits pretty hard. he has the argument with schlatt, and then turns to niki and tells her to run. he then hits people and sprints away, trying to give her time to escape.

this is also when he asks her to join pogtopia, because now that schlatt has said he’d kill her, it’s a safer place for her.

so the man did care about her. niki is angry at the memory of him that she has. it’s been twisted by time and her own grief and paranoia.

in rewatching pogtopia, i realized that a lot of people hate the memory of wilbur. not him, and what he did. they think he didn’t care. and to quote hamilton (apologies):

“history obliteratesit paints me in all my mistakes”

does niki have a right to be mad at him? absolutely. he caused direct harm to her by blowing up l’manburg, once it was reclaimed. but she’s wrong that he never cared.

(an interesting note: wilbur only blows it up after techno starts fighting people outside. he hears it, and says “look, they’re fighting”. he didn’t re-initiate the conflict of the country. the fact that even after peace was won people were fighting just gave evidence to his belief that the entire country was corrupted.)

niki has been hurt a lot, and wilbur has things to answer for. but we as the audience know that her statements are just her perception. she is a character who acts on perceptions. the entire stream was in black and white. during doomsday, upon seeing wilbur log on (as ghostbur), niki has a panic attack and destroys her bakery, trying to rid herself of the pain of the memories. her lines during this stream are chilling, whispered repetitions that are a mirror of wilbur’s end.

(paraphrased, it was long and confusing but there are a few bits and this was the essence of it)

“wilbur is gone. this isn’t happening. he is dead. l’manburg is gone.”“it is real, i am real, he is real and he is dead.”“l’manburg is gone, i am real, i am l’manburg”.

(god. dude i could spend Months analyzing this one stream alone. there’s so much here.)

doesn’t that sound a bit like “my unfinished symphony”? wilbur and niki both attach their own self to the nation they fought for, and can see it as an extension of themself. they both destroy parts of it in acts of fear, attempting to save everyone else from what they’ve made.

what i pulled away from niki’s stream is that she’s not healing. i remember the chamber she locks herself in at night. i remember her refusal to eat. i remember how she was so angry at tommy, and she later realized that anger was misguided. niki genuinely believes that wilbur did not care about her, and that’s not surprising: when he died, she denied the fact that he was gone. she represses the things that she can’t handle, same as lots of other people. it is easier for her to pin her hurt on wilbur, because she needs somewhere to pin it. people feel more in control if they’re angry, not sad.

the song cc!niki said was for her character really emphasizes this. it’s a coping mechanism.

but even condemning wilbur won’t help, because she will still never get closure. niki cares about what others think of her, and so she can’t move on from someone hurting her. she can’t move on because she thinks he hated her. she is angry that he is back, but it is an opportunity for her to heal. she couldn’t heal when he was gone. she’s not the only one with a negative perception of wilbur, after all. he has one too. the two of them really need to talk.

i want niki to be healthy and safe. i want to see her heal so badly, and i do think it will happen. after wilbur died, his betrayal of her stayed with her, and it eventually became her memory of the betrayal that she hated, not the thing itself. it’s been months since it happened. niki wants to find an outlet for her hurt, because she wants to feel better. there’s a pattern i noticed: she only gets mad at people once she hasn’t seen the person themself for a while. and once she sees them and talks to them, and realizes that they care about her and don’t want to hurt her, she stops blaming them for it. she only hates her perception of them. example one? tommy.

man was in exile for a long time, and when he came back he “brought” fighting. that’s how niki saw it. but the fact that after she spent time with tommy (trying to kill him but. details, details) she forgave him because she saw it wasn’t his fault is a really good sign.

i genuinely think that speaking to wilbur will help niki, and it will also help wilbur. after all, they both hate wilbur. the entire perception of wilbur as some heartless, crazy manipulator needs to be shattered for both of their sakes. they both buy into it.

i want niki to know that others care about her, and that she has places she can feel safe. she hates that wilbur is invading the syndicate, because she’s scared of his memory hurting her. i don’t think wilbur will hurt her on purpose, because even though he sees himself as awful, he doesn’t hate her. he never did. usually, with people who have hurt someone else, i want them as far away from the person they hurt as possible. if wilbur does hurt niki i’ll probably cry. but again, it’s not him that hated her, or really him that hurt her in the way she thinks he did. when wilbur was dead, niki didn’t get any better. her memory of him festered and made her feel worse. that’s also why niki killing wilbur or hurting him somehow wouldn’t help her heal. i want wilbur to explain that he didn’t hate her. is wilbur even close to self aware enough to help niki? nah. this is going to take a Long time, and it’s going to hurt.

last thing i swear lol

during niki’s stream, she says that wilbur manipulated her. again, i watched pogtopia last night, and i’ve watched the rest of season one recently as well. i genuinely don’t see it. but i do think i know why she said it.

during season one, wilbur doesn’t manipulate niki. he doesn’t have a chance to later, he’s dead. so then, what is she talking about? of course it’s a perception, same as a lot of her other claims. i think she’s talking about how she cared for l’manburg.

niki joined the server as wilbur’s friend, to join his nation. she grew to care for l’manburg. she devoted herself to it, same as he did. but doomsday showed us that she hates that. in niki’s eyes, l’manburg only brought pain for people, and because she ties herself to it, she hates that she ever cared about it. she can’t allow herself to care for it, because it was used to hurt. so how does she cope with knowing that she once did? she pretends she didn’t.

if she can convince herself that it was wilbur who convinced her to care about l’manburg, she can avoid blaming herself for her own pain. and yeah, she shouldn’t blame herself for it. it’s not her fault. the entire situation is tragic and a little hopeless and once again really makes me hope that she recovers. l’manburg was ruined for her by others. schlatt, techno, dream, wilbur. again another place where she and wilbur are similar: they convince themselves they never cared about l’manburg because of the hurt it caused.

to summarize: wilbur’s going to get a shock soon. don’t know when, but probably the prison visit. something is going to shake his perception, the story is hurtling towards that. once he is able to take responsibility for what he did, and feel safe (because a lot of what he does now is out of fear of being alone or useless), then he and niki need to talk. niki needs something to get her out of her own head. she’s spiraling too. they are essential to each other’s recovery because of how much they meant (and mean) to each other.

anyways i miss early season one niki i liked it when she was happy :(

~ Lad 2

#wilbur #c!wilbur #niki #c!niki #dreamsmp #dsmp #mcyt #rp #long post #dreamsmp analysis #dsmp analysis #revivedbur #pogtopia #lad speaks

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minarcana · 2 years ago

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im about to be completely fucking incoherent, hang tight.

i have a lot of thoughts about urianger and his switch to astrologian and his arr -> hvw change in methodology and also the ast hvw job quests of ‘the sharlayan method is to watch, until history becomes mere numbers’ and also the poems i have saved of ‘if you must know the future so be it, but the price is high; scrape and spit your own teeth out and read them as Diviner in the palm of your hand’ and ‘know that no one masters mysteries until he has consumed his own flesh’ and ‘god put a thing in my mouth, a jewel when he put it there and a coal once in place’

anyways once you watch your best friend die with the fact shes your best friend never said aloud and the fact she was loved, always, by those she cared for never stated and thus perhaps a question even as she died for them, and shortly after almost everyone you know and hold dear vanishes perhaps dead, and your role was to stand aside and you could not even watch & record & study you begin to want to change the fact that your ‘duty’ is meant to be Observer. urianger, taught the proper method of learning and study is to watch the play of history unfold before him and steer it in what ways he might as if he exists outside it, only capable of nudging the chess pieces in the direction he wants rather than playing himself. things are not said because despite his lexicon he lacks the words or ability, and thus people disappear Not Knowing.

his goal changes in heavensward, from someone who thinks that protection and study is accomplished by standing aside, to someone who felt powerless and therefore afraid and therefore as a failure, because his friends died or nearly-died and he was, as always, far away and neither seeing nor saying a thing because he assumed that was meant to be his job as a scholar. sure, he acts in a way that is Stupid, he takes an isolated path he thinks is fine to bite down on the coal in his mouth if it means that he can do more than simply sand aside and watch others bleed. he wants to do something and doesnt know how because he does not assume he is a player on the board, having never stood in line among the scions instead of off to the side of them. a habit of if he is to act, it must be sideways to the action, the ‘proper’ way is an offstage direction.

so, astrologian: to redirect the heavens, to read what is to come and assign it in a way that favours. to know what is to come, emphasis on the knowing. urianger scrapes certainty. to become a healer rather than a fighter, because offensive magecraft is better covered anyways by yshtola. hes not stupid enough to think hes on her level and he would serve much a purpose as a fighter (his spells are always the go to when someone needs something odd, contrast with again yshtola who is the go to for magic of war), so become something else, after he realizes he is in fact playing on the board. a healer, because he cares so much about the people around him, even if god forbid he has to string that sentence together aloud it’s the same thing to undo their injuries and decide he will drag the stars themselves to protect them, it’s saying the same thing. learn to read the future and know it won’t be easy and try anyways, against something as inexorable as the tides, because history is playing out and you can’t just let it become nothing but numbers in your mind because the numbers have names and the names are people you love.

okay im normal again

#ooc #headcanon : urianger #SORRY IM JUST [HEAD IN MY HANDS]#IM SO FUCKING NORMAL #IF I DONT WRITE IT ITLL BE IN MY BRAIN AND IT NEEDS TO BE OUT

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one-more-offbeat-anthem · 4 years ago

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endlessly

or, the one-shot that wouldn’t get out of my head where jack is a baby, cas is back, and he and dean have a talk. s13 :) this is a long one, so part of it is going under the cut!

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Things are strange.

Of course, things are often strange in Castiel’s life, especially these days. For one, he just got brought back from the dead. For another, he rode in the passenger’s seat of the Impala on the way back to the bunker. Sam drove, because when Dean tried to drive, the baby in the backseat--Jack, that’s Jack--started crying, and Dean had to switch spots and let Jack’s tiny hand wrap around one of his fingers. Only then did Jack stop crying.

As soon as they got back to the bunker, Dean went to put Jack to bed, leaving Castiel in the kitchen with Sam. That’s where Castiel is now, watching Sam putter around, cleaning up things that don’t need to be cleaned. There’s clearly something on his mind.

“You and Dean should talk,” Sam finally says.

“We usually do talk,” Castiel replies, unsure of what, exactly, Sam means.

“I mean, really talk. Look--” Sam stops, grabs two beers out of the fridge and slides one across the island to Castiel, before continuing. “Dean gets...things get bad for him when you’re gone. Without Jack to take care of, I think he would have...” Sam doesn’t finish the sentence, but Castiel has a feeling he knows where it was headed.

“Is Jack always like that?” Castiel asks.

“Obsessed with Dean? Yeah. I mean, things are still kinda complicated with Mom, and I’m not great with kids, but Dean...” Sam sighs. “I mean, he had to take care of me constantly when I was a baby. He’s always been really good with kids, better at expressing himself. And he and Jack...I mean, if Dean’s not with him, Jack gets really upset.”

“Wow,” Castiel says. He remembers a few years ago, helping Claire out, and how quickly Claire and Dean cottoned onto each other. And stories he’s heard from before he knew the Winchesters (sometimes it’s hard to believe there was a time in his life before them) where kids had been involved on a hunt and Dean saved the day.

Perhaps it’s only natural.

“But yeah,” Sam takes a deep swig of his beer. “Go find him and talk. I bet Jack is asleep by now.”

“Right.”

Castiel still feels odd, wrong-footed, though. It should be easy to talk to Dean--Dean’s one of his best friends, someone he would do anything for, has done anything for.

But he’s also Dean, someone who can be complicated and feels things deeply, and if he’s been feeling bad enough to contemplate--

Castiel doesn’t know what to say to that.

He finds Dean in his room, sprawled out on the bed with a sleeping Jack next to him. There are beer bottles and a couple of whiskey bottles littering Dean’s nightstand, an overflowing wastebasket in the corner.

Sam was right. Things haven’t been great.

Dean’s eyes flutter open when he hears Cas enter and he sits up, saying softly, “I know sleeping with babies can be bad, cuz I read one of those books you got, but he just...” Dean turns his gaze to Jack. “He doesn’t go to sleep unless I do this.”

Castiel nods.

Dean carefully scoops Jack up and carries him over to the crib in the corner of the room. The whole scene is both painfully domestic and painfully Dean, and it causes something in Castiel’s chest to twinge.

“But he’s out like a light now,” Dean says. “He’s already better at sleeping, it’s like he knows I don’t get much even without a crying baby.”

“Hm,” Castiel agrees. “Dean, can we talk?”

“Uh, sure? Let’s go somewhere else.” Dean takes one last look at Jack’s swaddled form and then leads Castiel out of his bedroom and to another room, which Cas has never been in before and is barren except for some armchairs and a foosball table.

“What’s this?” Cas asks as they settle into the armchairs.

“It’s...I dunno, a rec room or something. Thinking of putting a TV in here so we could watch movies. I’ve been calling it the Deancave and Sam has been getting annoyed with me.” Dean cracks a smile at a that. “Whaddya want to to talk about?”

“I, uh...” Castiel shrugs. “Sam just said I should talk to you.”

“Dirty traitor. Of course he did.” Dean frowns.

“We don’t have to if you don't want to, I just thought--”

“No, no, this’ll--I need to say this shit.” Dean swallows, before saying, “So, do you remember, about a year or so after we met, when we were trying to get the Colt back and gank Lucifer?”

“I do,” Castiel says, now completely unsure of where Dean is going with this.

“Well, I...I got zapped to the future. Or a future, I guess, by Zachariah. It was...2014 there, the world was overrun by this plague and zombies, Sam was...gone, he had said yes to Lucifer for good, and I met another version of myself who was...he wasn’t a great guy. Pretty cold and ruthless, willing to use people he cared about as bait or put them in harm’s way. He didn’t care about much anymore.” “I assume I wasn’t in this world?” Castiel asks.

“No, you were.” Now Dean looks genuinely pained. “You had lost almost all of your grace, and you spent your days...drinking and doing drugs and having sex. You had lost the trench coat and you were...different. You still thought I was pretty cool, though, and the other Dean, the Dean from that you’s time, he hated that.”

“I see.” Something is coming into focus.

“You were Cas, but you weren’t my Cas,” Dean says, the emphasis on the my weighty.

“Was this the same night that you told me to never change?”

“Yeah,” Dean sighs. “It was. Something that the other you said, it just...it hit me. And I couldn’t let that happen to you, and I couldn’t let myself be the guy that made it worse. He said that the only thing you and that Dean had left was each other, that if the other me said it was time to go, then you would follow him. And I tried to talk to the future me about it, ask him why he was willing to put you in harm’s way just because you would follow him. He...he didn’t have an answer.”

“I have changed, though, Dean,” Castiel says after a moment. “And not in a bad way.”

“Yeah, but you coulda become that guy.” Dean’s fidgeting now, uncomfortable. “Anyways, after that it was...yeah. You know how things went, you were there. A lot of shit went down, and I tried not to think about that future I saw.”

“I see.”

There’s a vast, empty silence in the room as Castiel contemplates what Dean has told him. He wants to ask follow-up questions, figure out what, exactly, Dean means by what he’s said, but it’s rare that Dean is so open and calm about it, and Castiel doesn’t want to break the spell. He wants Dean to, what’s the phrase? Level with him.

“And then we went to purgatory,” Dean continues suddenly. “And I spent a year looking for you and found you all dirty and scruffy--you still had that trench coat but you looked like him. I was...starting to realize something, I guess? I mean, Benny helped me find you, and one night we were just hanging out, doing stuff, and he asked me what my deal was about you. I told him, I said you were one of my best friends, hell, just straight-up my best friend.”

“And what did he say?”

“He said I was full of shit, that no one spends a year in purgatory for a friend. I told him to shut the hell up, but he was right.”

This isn’t happening. This would never happen, because Castiel has heard that it won’t. The Empty’s words from when he was dead echo in his head.

I know who you hate. I know who you love. There is nothing for you back there.

But maybe there is.

“There isn’t any use in trying to hide it from you,” Dean says. “You saw all the bottles. Every time you leave...I tell myself it’s because you’re like family, and you are, but not quite--”

Castiel is tired of waiting, tired of having a weight lodged in his chest, and he hates how agitated and small Dean looks, so before he can fully think out what he’s doing, he’s standing up and then leaning over Dean’s chair, his face inches from Dean’s.

He waits.

“There’s--there’s no way,” Dean says, breathless.

“There is.” Castiel swallows, hopes he hasn’t miscalculated.

He determines a moment later when Dean seizes him by his collar and pulls him all the way down into a kiss that he did not, in fact, miscalculate.

It’s clumsy and messy, because of the angle and the nerves and all of the waiting, but Castiel doesn’t particularly care, and he’s getting the impression that Dean doesn’t, either.

“Please don’t leave again,” Dean whispers into Castiel’s neck when they finally separate.

“I won’t,” Castiel promises. “Although I still can’t promise to never change.”

“That’s a good thing,” Dean replies. “I know that. Now.”

Castiel doesn’t sleep, but when Dean finally heads back to his room to check on Jack and then try and get his four hours, Dean grabs Castiel by the trench coat sleeve. He stays, takes the pair of pajamas Dean sheepishly offers, finds himself curled around Dean in the big bed that doesn’t seem so big anymore. Neither Dean or Jack wake up all night.

Castiel may not sleep, but he does sink into a fairly deep meditative state in the quiet darkness of Dean’s room. He “comes to” an indeterminate amount of time later to see that the room is empty, save him, and that all the bottles and trash are gone.

He pads into the hallway, still in that pair of Dean’s pajamas, and hears voices coming from the kitchen. He follows them to find Sam sitting at the table, talking to Dean, who’s standing at the stove with Jack swaddled and wrapped to his chest. Castiel feels his face reddening as his chest expands, and he makes a beeline for the table and sits across from Sam.

“I see you had that talk,” Sam whispers, grinning.

“We did.” Castiel can’t help but smile back.

“Anyone not want bacon?” Dean asks from the stove, and Castiel and Sam both shake their heads.

Castiel could get used to this, and he hopes he gets the chance to.

#destiel #baby!jack #spn #fic #offbeatwrites

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makeste · 4 years ago

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Do you think that the fact that Deku's always wearing his mask now while Bakugo doesn't in this last Chapter symbolizes that Deku is not being completely honest with himself while Bakugo is?

I mean, before, when Deku was sane and happy, he hardly ever used his mask and now -that he almost looks like a nightmare animatronic from FNAF and yet keeps claiming that he's fine- he can't go 5 panels without it.

While Bakugo, back when he was mister "I'm so bad at my own feelings I won't be caught talking about them unless somebody tries to kick my ass first" always used it, but now when he is being so honest and realistic with himself and others that he doesn't even try to go and fight Deku all by himself but knows that he needs his friends' help for that, he suddenly doesn't have his mask on.

Or maybe I'm just overthinking everything just because it's hella weird to see Bakugo wearing a tie at school and not his mask in battle 🤷🏾‍♀️, who knows.

I absolutely think that the mask thing is deliberate on Horikoshi's part. Deku used to be the one who was always honest with his feelings and would openly cry and get emotional in front of anyone. and that was a big part of his strength, as well -- his ability to connect with other people and reach their hearts, like he did with Shinsou and Shouto and Gentle and Nagant, and of course Kacchan himself. whereas Kacchan was the one always hiding behind his mask and trying to look cool and fearsome and intimidating, and carefully guarding his emotions at all costs.

but now Kacchan is the one fighting without a mask, and showing his emotions freely, and talking about the importance of a hero being able to smile and reach other people's hearts. and Deku is the one hiding his own vulnerability behind his mask, and trying desperately to act strong and tough and invincible even though he is currently in a lot of pain. it's a clear role reversal, and a very symbolic one at that. and this isn't just a BnHA thing either; if you look at almost any superhero movie -- or hell, just about any movie that has "good" guys fighting against "bad" guys -- you'll consistently see a pattern of the good guys fighting without masks or helmets, while the bad guys are all decked out in them. it's something to do with people seeming more human to us when we're able to see their faces. we just naturally feel more connected to them. it's something that writers and directors are very much aware of and take advantage of in their storytelling.

and that's definitely the case here as well. it's also no coincidence that there's been so much emphasis lately on how frightening Deku's outward appearance has become. one of the main themes of the story, which Horikoshi has discussed at length in various interviews, is that a hero is someone who is able to bring reassurance to others. someone who is able to inspire them and make them feel safe. and this is something that ties into both the "win" and "save" aspects of heroism, because both of those things are required in order to truly bring reassurance to others. you need to be strong enough that others can put their faith in you and know that you won't let them down no matter how bad the situation looks. and you also need to be compassionate enough to be tireless in your efforts to save every single person, no matter what. All Might had both of those things, and that was what made him stand out from so many other heroes. and it's why his smile was such an important aspect of it, and something that both Deku and Kacchan admire and emulate, even though they both looked up to him for different reasons. at the end of the day it all came down to the same thing.

but Deku has lost sight of that now, and that's probably the clearest sign that he's currently on the wrong path. even though he's acting with everyone else's interests in mind, his own fears are keeping him from being the type of hero he always aspired to be. he can't bring reassurance to others because he doesn't feel that reassurance himself. he can't smile right now because he's afraid and isolated. he's afraid that he can't save everyone. he's afraid that he can't defeat AFO. he's afraid that he'll fail, and afraid of what will happen if he does, and that fear is driving him insane, and it's keeping him from being that reassuring figure. and his appearance is a visual representation of that. he's literally surrounded by darkness, and he's unable to smile, and the light has disappeared from his eyes.

in short, as a certain someone once put it, he looks like he needs saving. it's a fantastic visual metaphor, and Horikoshi has truly outdone himself with the art. and it's going to make for such a powerful moment once Kacchan and the others finally do get through to him, and we get to see that light and hope reaching him once again. we got a brief split-second preview of it in the last chapter, but the real deal will hopefully blow that out of the water. I am trying and failing not to get my expectations up insanely high lol. but yeah, I'm excited. if the level of catharsis is even remotely proportional to the amount of angst leading up to it, then all I can say is holy shit.

#bnha 319 #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #bnha meta #deku meta #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #asks #long post

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lady-divine-writes · 4 years ago

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Good Omens - A Corpse, Cake, and a Cuppa (Rated NC17)

Summary: Aziraphale is Death and Crowley is the serial killer who keeps murdering to catch a glimpse of the ethereal being he fell in love with. (1714 words)

Notes: Written for the above Halloween prompt from @new-endings/M.A.D.#8943. Human Crowley au. It’s kind of gory, I’m not going to lie.

Read on AO3.

“Jesus Christmas!" Aziraphale yelps, tiptoeing through the thick pool of red coagulating on the concrete. Threads of it cling to the soles of his shoes when he lifts his feet as if trying to drag him down. Aziraphale has seen a great deal of blood in his time. None of it has been pretty. But this is especially gruesome.

He wonders if that’s for his benefit.

"Look at... look at this! Look at all the… !” Aziraphale takes a pause and breathes in deep, pressing the thumb and forefinger of his right hand to his forehead. Tension causes a vein to distend and throb - quite the feat since, as a non-human entity, he shouldn't be able to experience this kind of pain. Or so he thought. In the thousands of years he's roamed earth reaping souls, he's finally found the one mortal who can give him what humans call a migraine. And he doesn't like it. Not one bit. “Could you please just… stop already?"

Crowley grins, thrilled giddy by the arrival of his intended audience. “No,” he replies, shoving the slicked head of his filthy ax deeper into the severed spine of the fresh corpse at his feet.

Aziraphale grimaces as the blade lands with a resounding slap.

That ax of Crowley's gets on every one of Aziraphale's nerves. It's effective for its purpose but positively unsanitary. It makes his skin crawl every time he sees it.

Crowley lifts it slowly, eyes Aziraphale menacingly.

Eyes his nice, clean coat, Aziraphale realizes.

“Crowley!” he warns, putting both hands up in defense. “Don't you dare... !”

But Crowley doesn't let him finish, hoisting his ax higher with part of the dead man's torso attached. He doesn't need to do anything after that. The torso falls from the blade and splashes down in the pool, accomplishing what Crowley set out to do.

“Holy... GAH!” Aziraphale leaps back to avoid the spray. He frowns at his clothes when he sees he wasn't quick enough. "Look what you've done! You’ve made a mess of my coat!”

“Improved it, I’d say,” Crowley snarks. “Given it a pop of color.”

“I've had this coat for ages and hadn't collected a single stain! Not one! And look at your shoes! Ruined!" He gazes down at Crowley's feet in despair. "I actually liked that pair.”

“Really?" Crowley tilts his head, batting his eyes innocently. "You didn't tell me that.”

“Yes, well... " Aziraphale busies himself fishing a handkerchief out of his pocket. Praying he’s swift enough to save the fabric, he pats at the specks on his sleeve "... it’s not my place to tell a homicidal maniac that he looks fetching in snakeskin, is it?”

Crowley pouts, his lower lip jutting out, making him look comically childish despite the streaks of blood running down his cheeks.

Aziraphale’s brows pull together. He glances around, trying to work out what's wrong. "What? What is it?"

"You're being mean."

"How am I being mean?"

"You're calling me names."

"Accurate ones, yes."

"You sound disappointed."

"You think so!?"

“B-but... but why? I took your advice!" Crowley argues. "I changed me m.o.!”

“I didn’t give you advice! I said you should stop killing innocent people!”

“I did! This guy?" Crowley plants the heel of his sopping shoe into the dead man's crooked neck for emphasis. "He weren’t innocent! He was a serial killer, too! He just happened to be shite at it!”

"I can see that." Aziraphale peers into the vacant eyes of the man on the ground, spirit buzzing beneath his skin, waiting to be reaped. But Aziraphale is in no rush. In the choice between filling out paperwork and shooting the shite with Crowley, surprisingly, he chooses Crowley.

Or maybe not so surprising, Aziraphale muses, biting his lower lip and indulging in a private chuckle. He rolls his eyes in disgust at himself right after. What are you doing? Stop that!

"Besides, I'm doin' you a solid!"

Aziraphale scoffs, snapping back to his senses. "How do you figure?"

"You're Death, ain't ya? I'm keeping you in business!"

"I don't know if you've read the papers lately, dear boy, but humans are dropping like flies thanks to their own stubbornness and stupidity. You're slap in the middle of one of the worst pandemics in history, but instead of doing what you can to stay safe, you lot spend your time arguing over petty b.s.! I won't wear a mask! It's against my rights! I'm not taking the vaccine! It'll make me sterile! There is no disease! It's all a big conspiracy! Meanwhile, in the states, some orange lunatic has everyone drinking bleach! Believe me, I hardly need your help doing my job!"

“Oi! Don’t lump me in with those prats!”

“Why not? You’re not wearing a mask, I see.”

“Don’t have to. I got my shot. And I keep me distance.”

“But you’re covered in blood! Did that man you dismembered have the virus!? You don’t know!” Aziraphale cringes at words that sound far more like concern than scolding. Which he should be doing. Scolding and ridiculing, and possibly calling the police.

But he won’t.

If Crowley were thrown in prison, it would be harder for Aziraphale to find an excuse to see him. Aziraphale has yet to decide if that’s something he wants, but either way, he’d prefer it not be at the expense of another life.

"Fine. Whatever. If that's the way you feel about it... " Crowley grumbles, letting what remains of that statement die as embarrassment rises to his cheeks, settling beneath the red already there. He crosses his arms over his chest and turns his face away.

Just like a child, Aziraphale thinks.

And as with a child, Aziraphale should have nipped this in the bud much, much earlier - like when Crowley realized that he could summon Aziraphale whenever he wanted by upping the frequency of his murderous antics.

This, to date, is his twenty-seventh kill.

Aziraphale doesn't know how Crowley spotted him. He's pretty adept at avoiding human detection. But after victim number eight, Aziraphale turned around, scythe in hand, and there he stood: tall, gangly, bizarrely besotted, dressed in black and wearing sunglasses at one in the morning. Aziraphale thought Crowley was a run-of-the-mill psychopath looking for attention, seeing Aziraphale as a hapless dolt to play cat-and-mouse with, not knowing for one second who he was dealing with.

Not only did Crowley know exactly who Aziraphale was, but he had taken a considerable shine to him.

Aziraphale humored the man when their paths crossed so he could get on with his work, never for one minute considering the consequences. Thinking back on their past interactions, Aziraphale can pick out the hints Crowley had been dropping.

Aziraphale played right into them, and he could kick himself over it.

"We have to stop meeting like this," Aziraphale quipped dryly after Crowley had beheaded some poor, down-on-his-luck fool. "I'm going to start thinking that you have a thing for me."

"Finally!" Crowley tossed his arms in the air. "At this rate, I was going to have to murder half of London and spell out the words ’Will you go out with me?’ with their bodies. Do you know how time-consuming that would have been?"

Aziraphale had written that comment off as a morbid attempt at humor.

Now he feels like an imbecile.

He’s going to get an earful from Gabriel if he ever gets wind of this. Aziraphale has been able to cover up the increase in London deaths by blaming the pandemic. But once people get their acts together and things calm down, he’ll have to come clean.

There’s a serial killer roaming the streets that has a serious crush on him.

Aziraphale lets out a heavy sigh as he comes to a decision.

A bad decision.

He's going to regret this. He knows he's going to regret this.

But will he really though?

Aziraphale looks Crowley over, still moping with his nose in the air. He examines him at depth - his sharp features, his debonair style (hiding beneath a litre of blood), his devil-may-care attitude, his rowdy sense of humor. If he were another angel, or even a demon, Aziraphale would have asked him out already, body count or no.

So what is he waiting for?

It’s not entirely unheard of, an angel dating outside their dominion. And as for the moral issues of dating a murderer, well, Aziraphale is an angel. He has a responsibility to bring sinners to the light, help them see the truth. That can be done anywhere, not just in church - on a street corner, in a diner…

Back at his flat.

Besides, he and Crowley have a lot more in common than Aziraphale did with his last paramour, an angel he had dallied with solely for the fact that he was guardian of comestibles.

It seemed like a match made in Heaven, so to speak.

Far from it.

“Look - if I let you take me out for coffee, will you stop the gratuitous bloodshed?”

Crowley all but gasps when that question leaves Aziraphale’s mouth, the grin growing on his face transforming, becoming less maniacal and more… normal if that makes any sense. "One cup of coffee. That's all I ask."

"Then come along. Here… “ Aziraphale snaps his fingers, cleaning Crowley thoroughly before he takes his arm. “If you're good, I'll let you buy me a slice of cake.”

“That’s very generous of you.”

“I’m glad you think so. I’m a very slow eater. And I figure the longer I stay with you, the more I can keep an eye on you."

“Deal. But, you know," Crowley starts, his tone so filled with teasing he’s on the verge of giggles, "if you, say, spent the night at my flat, you could keep an eye on me for hours. Think of all the people I wouldn’t be able to kill.”

Aziraphale smirks, amused that they both had a semblance of the same idea. “You don’t say?”

“I do.”

“That’s blackmail.”

“More so than you bartering human lives against a cuppa and cake?”

Aziraphale shrugs, but he doesn't relinquish Crowley's arm. He does, however, relieve him of his ax so he doesn’t get any ideas along the way. “Fair point.”

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #ineffable husbands #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley

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fannishcodex · 3 years ago

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So I was just gonna finally share my thoughts on a little moment of c/// that always rubs me the wrong way about her, something that's worsened by what ultimately happens with her; and I was rewatching the scene to try to take a screenshot (which I apparently can't do, so I just took a photo), but...well, I rewatched the scene.

And I think the dialogue really does suggest c/// is aware that her triggering the portal caused the loss of Angella? This is the scene I was thinking of, from S4E1; this is the dialogue (with italics for emphasis):

c///: We need to talk about plans for--

Hordak: Plans? (Bitter laugh.) Your last plan was to set off the portal machine before it was ready. Do you remember how that ended?

c///: Whatever. It worked out for us, didn't it? (Gloating grin.) The Rebellion's a mess. Their queen is gone.

It just really sounds like Hordak and c/// know that c/// activating the portal machine led to the loss of Queen Angella. (Does anyone else read it differently?)

It’s not perfectly explicit, but it really seems very close. Not every word is said, but their connections seem clear. It really seems to read to me that both c/// and Hordak know that c/// starting the portal caused the loss of Angella, and c/// treats it as a success/something to take advantage of (while Hordak seems more stuck on, y’know, c/// activating the portal apparently starting to rip the world apart--but then he’s very depressed over the belief that Entrapta betrayed him because of course he was never truly worthy of affection from anyone let alone someone like her; so it feels like he loses a grip on his pretty valid point to sink back into despair).

Like, I always thought c/// knew, but there’s been some fandom talk that she might not, as part of general fandom talk wondering how many characters actually know the specifics of what happened to Angella and who was directly responsible for it--and I honestly wasn’t buying that c/// didn’t know, though I was buying that Glimmer didn’t know because I keep thinking about that for salty post-S5 fic

[more discussion under the cut, and warning: even more spop salt below. i was late to the fandom and finished the show early this year, it still feels fresh to me--that, and this dialogue ended up reminding me of things.]

(fic where Glimmer freaks out after learning it wasn’t just vaguely the Horde in general that got Angella trapped, it was specifically c///--and that’s the only reason she’s been weirdly chill with c/// in S5, Glimmer didn’t know what c/// actually did to her mom--but Glimmer flips out when she learns). But I thought the show might not be as explicit as I thought. But then I rewatched the scene I was thinking of, the one from S4E1, and it seems like both c/// and Hordak know c/// triggering the portal caused the loss of Angella.

Like even if looking at the on-screen events doesn't seem to make sense (c/// finally gets destroyed in portal disaster before Angella steps up to save everyone [even c///], c/// doesn't know Entrapta ended up foiling c///’s portal plans after all by figuring out what can be done to save everyone from the portal disaster), the dialogue seems to really say differently. Like the dialogue doesn't seem to comprehensively consider what was shown and just suggests that c/// and Hordak actually are aware of this piece of information after all.

Here’s some more analysis of the dialogue, again with italics for emphasis and my notes in brackets:

c///: We need to talk about plans for--

Hordak: Plans? (Bitter laugh.) Your last plan was to set off the portal machine before it was ready. Do you remember how that ended? [It sounds like Hordak is very much directly talking about what c/// activating the portal caused, and his tone (that bitter laugh, etc.)/the context implies it was not good in his mind.]

c///: Whatever. It worked out for us, didn't it? [This directly follows and responds to Hordak bringing up how c///’s last plan with the portal ended, and it sounds like c/// is acknowledging what Hordak said, that her activating the portal had consequences, but then she suggests they turned out to be good for their side. And look at the next few sentences that directly follow this.] (Gloating grin.) The Rebellion's a mess. Their queen is gone. [This part directly follows “It worked out for us, didn't it?”, suggesting they’re all connected, suggesting it’s c/// then elaborating/specifying on how it worked out for them. And due to the context of their conversation, it feels like she also implies that it’s because of her it’s all worked out, she’s claiming ownership over what happened--the rebellion in disarray, the loss of their queen, and those are all good things for their side in her mind, and they’re results of the portal machine she activated, as pointed out by Hordak and seemingly acknowledged by c///. It’s not quoted here, but as the scene continues, Hordak doesn’t seem to dispute these last lines from c///, he doesn’t deny that c/// activating the portal led to the loss of the queen, he just seems to silently acknowledge her last lines as fact and continues their conversation. It feels like meaning is in the order of the sentences, how they seem to respond to each other and connect.]

It just feels less ambiguous, and more clear to me. It actually feels harder for me to read the dialogue as c/// and Hordak not knowing the portal c/// activated led to the loss of the queen; it really feels like they talk like they know who’s responsible and what their actions caused, it really feels like they talk as if they know c/// activating the portal machine led to “the rebellion [being a] mess” and to “[t]heir queen [being] gone.” Their conversation actually starts feeling odd if it’s instead read as if Hordak and c/// don’t know c/// activating the portal didn’t lead to the rebellion in disarray and the loss of the queen, because the text of their conversation really suggests the opposite to me.

I noticed in some of the same fandom talk wondering about how many people knew the specifics about Angella’s fate, I remember there was someone who suggested that maybe the rebellion just sent out news that Angella sacrificed herself to prevent a critical disaster. And now I’m thinking maybe they even more explicitly said Angella did it to close a disastrous portal; either way, c/// and Hordak could’ve heard about that and put two-and-two together and realized c/// “set[ting] off the portal machine before it was ready” led to the loss of the queen--and now that they know that, they can have a conversation where Hordak criticizes c///’s plan with the portal and can ask her “do you remember how that ended?”, with c/// just responding with “it worked out for us, didn’t it? the rebellion’s a mess. their queen is gone.”

The dialogue feels like it’s missing a few words that could make it even more explicit, but they’re only linking words, and the meaning is plain enough without them. Like (bolding example of more linking words/phrases):

c///: We need to talk about plans for--

Hordak: Plans? (Bitter laugh.) Your last plan was to set off the portal machine before it was ready. Do you remember how that ended? Do you remember what you did?

c///: Whatever. It worked out for us, didn't it? (Gloating grin.) Look what it did for us, look what I did--the Rebellion's a mess. Their queen is gone.

And the dialogue as “screenshots”/pics here:

Again, it really feels like c/// and Hordak know that c/// activating the portal led to the loss of the queen, and it’s something that c/// sees as a win, something that makes her smile.

Even before rewatching this part, I felt other things still pointed to c/// knowing what she did to Queen Angella, or suggested she knew even on a thematic level (like, it would be thematically appropriate if she knew). Again, as mentioned above, maybe the rebellion/royal alliance shared news about what happened to Angella, and c/// could put two-and-two together and realize she was responsible. I also was thinking that c/// was aware that the portal disaster was literally destroying/killing everyone, and she still didn’t care to stop it--

Adora: Catra, look what’s happening! You’re going to destroy everything!

Catra: I don’t care. I won’t let you win. I’d rather see the whole world end than let that happen.

So, kinda feel like, with the timing of it all actually, c/// could connect the dots--the portal’s somehow fixed (Adora’s won after all, again), Adora looked murderously furious, probably not long after there’s news of the queen’s loss...I feel like with that, with the close timing of those moments and with the knowledge of the portal’s destructiveness, c/// could put two-and-two together and even assume that not everyone was able to escape the portal’s destruction even after the portal was apparently fixed, that the queen couldn’t escape the destructive portal c/// caused. And tbh feel like the show makes other sorta jumps in logic anyway, and I feel like going “forget it, why not make my own jump in logic about spop then?”

But then I rewatched the S4E1 scene, and...well, again the dialogue really seems like it suggests that c/// knows what she did. And that Hordak knows too.

In any case, I think it works better that c/// knows she caused the loss of Angella, even if S5 doesn’t follow up on it with any sort of satisfying narrative payoff. I feel like c/// not knowing would be another poor writing choice. I feel like it would take away too much emotional weight if c/// doesn’t know and never knows by the end of the show that she caused the loss of Angella. And season 5 already ends up taking a lot of emotional weight away from the previous seasons, so I wasn’t looking forward to more getting discarded. Like...it’s okay c/// actually appears this knowingly cruel. So much of her character really does end up like that. It’s less okay when S5 tries to ignore that and sweep it aside.

And after everything, it would just be...jarring if on top of everything, on top of no character essentially being allowed to express negative feelings toward c///* and on top of S5 ignoring Angella, if c/// also apparently had no idea what she did to Angella. It would just feel like another thing artificially bending to give c/// a very unearned and flat “happy resolution.” Like so much in S5 is artificially forced to cater to c///, the show artificially forcing c/// back into a being a punching bag instead of acknowledging/honoring her ascent in power in a very artificially forced attempt to make the audience Sympathetic for c/// without addressing what c/// did and her twisted behavior (i.e. it really feels like the show tries to force, “ohno look at what’s happening to c/// forget-everything-she-did-before look at what’s happening to her now and-definitely-don’t-think-about-how-c///-activating-the-portal-brought prime-to-etheria-and-she-literally-summoned-her-own-defeat-while-trying-to-destroy-etheria-out-of-spite-for-adora-and-successfully-trapped-Angella-between-dimensions-or-that-c///-tried-to-brainwash-adora-in-season-2-or-that-c///-electrocuted-adora-in-season-4-and-how-for-most-of-the-show-c///-has-very-willingly-and-maliciously-fought-adora just forget all that”), so many characters don’t get to have more natural-feeling reactions to her, it feels like too many of her actions are clumsily swept under the rug, so tbh I don’t like the idea of “c/// also didn’t know she caused the loss of Angella” added to that.

(*It’s just so...weird/unsatisfying/monotone and frankly boring that ultimately only c/// gets to wallow in negative feelings with ultimately little consequence while no other character ultimately gets to feel as negatively as her. Why is that by the end, only c/// got to absolutely lose it? And that’s a lot of “ultimately’s” since I find it a pretty good one-word adjective for how I feel about spop canon, like there are things it does before but then ultimately a lot of it is undermined and negated in the end.)

(And even if c/// really didn’t know, feel like in this context it would not lessen the harm she did--though it would very much ditch a lot of emotional weight and lead to even more weak writing/an even weaker story. It would just be another poor writing choice.)

And tbh I don’t mind venting/criticizing c/// because canonically she’s fine. She gets everything she wants, every character given screentime and dialogue time with her pretty much just accepts her, no one ultimately rejects her, no one ultimately gets to be mad at her. She’s fine in the show and she has a large fanbase. I feel pretty much zero compunction over criticizing her and not caring for her because it’s really not gonna cause any problems, she’s fine (poorly written, but fine). I’m not about to enter the c/// tag (and I’ve been trying to avoid her name for partly this reason) with my criticism for a character they like.

...And it’s just weird, because I was, I really was thinking “I guess c/// knowing what she did to Angella could’ve been less explicit than I thought, but I still think she knows, and I guess it’s my headcanon now--” and then I rewatch the S4E1 scene I’m thinking of and I’m just surprised and thrown by how it does seem to actually more explicitly/clearly suggest that c/// and Hordak definitely know c///’s responsible for what happened to Angella after all. Like even if the visual scenes don’t add up, the dialogue suggests c/// and Hordak know that c/// activating the portal led to the loss of the queen. It could be like contradictory info, but it’s there on the screen (and spop’s contradicted itself before); it’s viable enough to just go by what the characters are saying/their dialogue. And I can headcanon all I want about the specific logistics of how they know. I think that’s kind of already happening with more talk about how much characters actually know about Angella’s fate and who’s directly responsible for it, and it feels like it’s partly a way to rationalize why Glimmer ends up so bizarrely chill with the person directly responsible for the loss of her mom. And the S4E1 dialogue at least does more to address c/// and Hordak knowing about the consequences of c/// activating the portal than all of S5 largely ignoring Angella and c///’s role in her fate and how Glimmer should really feel about that.

And tbh, I’m more inclined to believe/headcanon that Glimmer didn’t know in S5 that c/// is directly responsible for the loss of her mother. So except for the idea of c/// not knowing, I’ve been finding the talk about how much characters actually know about the portal disaster to be interesting. Again, think Glimmer might not know c/// activating the portal led to the loss of her mom. It again makes me wonder if like all of Etheria’s citizens remember the portal disaster almost destroying them and if they have some existential dread, or just passed it off as an awful dream because they had no context for what was happening, what was that if not a bad dream? But it was so terribly strange, and so many seemed to have had the same or similar nightmares... Can you imagine the portal disaster happening and you have zero context for what the hell is going on? Adora and co. had context/more understanding; most of Etheria did not. Kyle and the Horde Trio touch on this a little, but it’s sorta...more a gag and I kinda wish in retrospect this had been explored more too. This may be yet another instance of the show nonsensically holding back to cater to c/// and avoid any natural follow-through on plot/theme/character threads in favor of ultimately ensuring everything’s too easy for c/// and she doesn’t have to deal with any real emotional consequences. But this might further fuel the idea that the rebellion did make some announcement about Angella saving everyone from a portal disaster for everyone’s peace of mind, to try to explain to them what the hell happened.

Anyway, did like how this all made me think of some new spop ideas, and it felt like it personally clarified more things about spop for me.

#spop critical #spop salt #hordak #queen angella #glimmer #not a reblog

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themadauthorshatter · 4 years ago

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It's been a while since I did one of these, and I'll be expanding over more of the series.

Here's Part 4 of headcanons I have for Never!Tedros!!

Even when she becomes the coven's new leader, Tedros still hates her guts and it definitely has to do with her treatment of Agatha and letting Dot get kicked out.

In retaliation, he asks Agatha to take her in, which she does, and explains what happened to Dovey, who allows Dot to stay, much to the annoyance of the Evil teachers and a lot of the Nevers, even Sophie.

They have they're confrontation at lunch and Sophie shouts at him that Agatha tricked him, too, lest he forget. He already knows this, but walks away anyway to be with Agatha.

They have some angsty-fluff moments with Tedros asking if she's afraid of him, which she claims she isn't because, no offense to him, he's all bark and no bite with her. He admits to knowing she'd tried using him, but also admits he's glad she gave up on that because it wouldn't have been a good thing if he'd figured it out and she lied to him.

During the bridge encounter, Sophie claims Agatha is the Evil one, and that Agatha is the witch, not her, even going as far as to say she and Tedros are the good ones and deserve an Even After together.

"At least I know I'm evil, you stupid girl."

I should mention Tedros takes a turn for the dark when he is confronted by Ravan, Vex, and other Never boys and dragged into a bathroom, so they can beat the crap out of him for all the stuff he's pulled.

Having been in Good for about a month, he's immediately overwhelmed by all the evils surrounding the students, even a few of Sophie's, which reveal her attacks and intentions for the schools.

Ravan goes to get a hit in with a weapon of some kind, but Tedros grabs it and stands up, angrier than ever before.

Anadil is unfortunate enough to see Tedros leave the boy's room with some blood on his face, but uninjured. He glares at her and walks away without talking.

She finds all the boys unconscious with scratches and slashes on their faces and bodies. The weapon Ravan had is now broken, having been used against them to the extreme.

Come the circus of talents, when Agatha comes in pretty as a picture, Tedros warns her not the stop him, and thanks her for being nice to him.

She sees why when she and a witchy Sophie go toe to toe.

Too bad Tedros attacks Sophie before they can start actually do anything.

I should mention that, as a sort of update on his talent, Tedros can USE these evils to his advantage and can force them into visibility, which is exactly what he does.

He shows all the students what they are on the inside, revealing the monsters he's scene since day 1 of arriving at school.

After a HUGE fight breaks out between Tedros, who is consumed and corrupted by the evils he's seen, letting them take over, and Sophie, who just gave up on being good like before.

Sophie attempts to kill Agatha, but she's caught by Tedros, who's grown shadow-esque wings and looks like some sort of demon dragon.

As he holds her, the two flying maybe eight feet off the ground, he admits he may have gone overboard and apologizes to her for almost dying.

He then reveals he knows about Sophie's plan to not only give the Nevers a ball, but also destroy all of Good and steal the Storian.

"What are you going to do?"

Tedros smiles. "Being a prince. I don't like Beatrix or a lot of other people in Good, but I like you all enough to know I don't want Sophie to end your stories."

"What do you mean? What're you-"

He sort of lands on the ground and lets Agatha stand, resting his forehead against hers. "Agatha, thank you for being in Good."

"You say that like I had a choice."

"No one ever said you had to be my friend, but you did, anyway."

He kisses her on the cheek and takes her to her dorm, which he locked from the outside, in the door, before taking off towards Evil, telling her to not stop him.

She gets to Evil by turning into a cheetah and, like before, tries to crash the No Ball to save everyone.

EVERYONE only believes her ehen Tedros arrives and attacks everyone, using the evils to his advantage.

When Sophie and Agatha are magiced away to Gavaldon, he only stands, emotionally empty as they vanish.

He's locked himself into his room and is sitting with his knees up and with his head resting against his knees.

Hates Aric.

Sleeps and stays in the Doom Room to avoid him, and the other boys because they won't shut up.

Does step up to be the leader of the boys, but does not order any kind of attack on the girls.

When the boys start getting rowdy, courtesy of one of the Everboys, said Everboy gets in Tedros's face when he confronts him. Aric backs up the Ever, and Tedros says nothing as he rams his fist into the Ever's stomach and swings an insanely hard punch into his jaw, which knocks him out instantly. The whole room is quiet as he basically demotes Aric as captain and gives the position to Chaddick; Aric is now responsible for disciplining anyone that steps out of line, which is nice enough, but he'd rather have the power to choose who gets the whip. With a low, "I want this entire castle spotless. You have the rest of the night and the weekend to do it," Tedros leaves, Chaddick following when Tedros asks him to very warmly, despite the scene that just unfolded.

When boys start refusing, Tedros hands them over to Aric, telling him that he can use any method he wants just as long as the boys are still alive.

No one refuses an order after an Ever and a Never leave boisterously shouting they're not afraid of a sewer rat like Aric and return quiet, pale, and injured from getting tortured.

Surprisingly, Tedros is the most collected with Tristan, almost returning to his Book 1 self, except more chatty. Tedros notes how Tristan smells a little different and that the redhead's been distant. Tristan denies it, spawning an evil for lying that Tedros sees.

He tells Tristan to keep his distance, and that he was one of the Everboys that was really nice to him; it's a small thing, but it means the world to him.

When Agatha and Sophie arrive, Tedros has locked himslef in his room. The boys are whipped into shape and don't really step out of line, all except Aric, but he tells the two strongest boys to keep Aric on a leesh if they have to.

Cue a lovely Tagatha reunion where the real Tedros comes back for a little bit.

She tells him about what the School for Girls are saying about him, even talking about how he rules over the boys with an iron fist, but Tedros states that if the boys wanted a different leader, they should've picked someone else to step up.

He tells her he won't hurt her, if they have to fight, but he will tear Sophie apart, so she'd better keep Sophie safe, if she cares so much about her.

Agatha leaves, apologizing for the fact that she might still love him. Tedros apologizes to her for the same reason.

Turns out the boys don't need to pick a new leader because the male teachers do it for them, and lock Tedros in the Doom Room.

He doesn't mind the other boys ignoring him. He doesn't mind the fact that he's not allowed to eat even when he tells the truth. He doesn't mind Aric being a dick or Tristan disappearing into thin air.

He minds greatly when he meets Filip, who has Sophie's evils and makes the mistake of trying to befriend him.

Just to put a target on his back, Tedros allows Filip to win. He wants alone time too, because he's been thinking about Agatha a lot.

Turns out not ALL the boys hate him, because Chaddick tries sneaking him food.

Tedros refuses and asks to be left alone.

A few days later, Filip finds Tedros lying on the ground, passed out and weak from not being fed. He wakes him up and tries to get him to have some lamb, but Tedros kicks Filip away

"Stop whatever game you're playing! I know it's you, Sophie!"

Filip blanches as he stands, flustered. "I... W-Who's Sophie? I'm Filip. Remember?"

Tedros glares up at him and scoffs. "You think I can't tell when you're lying? That I don't know when someone's trying to trick me!? Unless you're here to torture me or rub it in my face that I messed up and you have everything, go away and don't ever talk to me again, you witch!"

Filip(Sophie) is gutted by this, stunned as Tedros adds in a, "Speak of the Devil," as Aric strides in, armed with a whip.

Aric makes Filip leave and gets a few lashes on Tedros as he shouts that the prince is weak, a fool, and useless to eveyone, adding emphasis on weak if he can't even rely on his princess to save him.

When Aric's done with him and leaves, Tedros forces himself to his feet and unpockets a key he snagged off "Filip" when he kicked him.

He gets out and looks for Sophie, who's partnered with Hort for the trial by tale.

He finds Yara instead, heavily injured and dying as he rushes over to her side.

"I tried," she sobs. "I-I tried to get here sooner... and warn you, but he... he came out and-"

Tedros takes her hand, too upset to be angry. "Why, Tristan? Why be with the girls? I would've helped you!"

Tristan, Yara, holds his hand tightly and smiles. "You should've seen it. It was so pretty. And the girls were wearing blue for once."

Even though he has tears in his eyes and running down his cheeks, Tedros can only smile and shake his head. "You're a bloody fool."

"So... So're you."

Tristan apologizes for hiding the Storian away from Tedros, and thanks him for being possibly the only boy in the school for boys that was really nice to him, even though he defected to the girl's shool, in the end. With one last smile, Tristan dies, Tedros setting him down and backing away before shouting and releasing a sort of shadow-y energy, sonic boom that flattens a bunch of trees. He screams, he cries, and he basically mourns the fact that he lost someone he genuinely cared about and saw as a friend, maybe even a brother.

Even though he's weaker than before, tired, emotionally drained, and barely able to stand, Tedros still finds Filip, who's revealed to be Sophie, and, too tired for words, smirks as she tries to explain herself to a very hurt Hort, who she picked as her partner.

"Look who's putting her lessons to good use."

She turns on Tedros and shouts she always tried to help him, even when it would result in a punishment, and where he got worse she got better.

Tedros snickers and asks why she manipulated Agatha and lied to the boys, even Hort, who's her friend. On skaky legs and with unfocused eyes, Tedros murmurs, "You can take the witch out of Evil, but there's no taking the evil out of a witch. No wonder Agatha hates us both."

Just as he falls, Agatha races out of the trees and catches him, apologizing that she hadn't been the one to take the potion and help him and admitting she never hated him. She actually never stopped loving him and believes that he isn't so evil he can't be loved by her.

Tedros asks how she knows, considering the events prior, and Agatha shakes her head; if he was truly as evil as he thinks, she would be dead, her and Sophie both, and both schools would've been destroyed. He can think all he wants that he hates both schools and everyone inside them, and that he's an evil force of destruction that will never sit a throne, but Agatha knows the truth:

He loved going to both schools. He loved being around people, more specifically people who showed him the most minimal shred of kindness, regardless of whether or not it was genuine or out of obligation. He loved being the only one up at night and enjoying the silence of both schools, loved pulling pranks that were harmless, save for causing gray hairs. He loved being friends with Chaddick and Tristan, who took him in and showed him how great it was to even have friends. He loved the lessons in good and the trips between both schools.

Most of all, she knows he loves her, even though she tried tricking him into falling in love with Sophie so they could leave.

Tedros can't help but cry and not seeing any evils grow from Agatha, knowing everything she said was true and that he's an idiot for needing it spelled out for him.

They kiss, ending the conflict between boys and girls, and getting their Happily Ever After. Hort does a good friend move and looks away to give them some kind of privacy, but Sophie is frozen, realizing that regardless of whether she's good or evil, she's not getting Tedros. His heart belongs to Agatha, who feels the same way.

When Evelyn Sader appears with the Storian, bringing back Rafal and dying in the process, Tedros still tries to fight him.

He gets his ass handed to him, and gets that gash in the original story.

When they're sent to Gavaldon and found by Callis, who tends to Tedros, Agatha guves her the run-down, including the fact that Tedros is indeed a Never and the Prince of Camelot.

Callis sighs at this and admits he's good at being still for her, considering how he was so fitful while unconscious. Agatha then admits he sleep walks.

With that in mind, they check and find him awake and staring at Callis, holding a hand out to her as Agatha shakily introductions them.

They trade introductions, Callis at least because Tedros is back to being quiet, and Callis returns to patching him up.

Tedros is quiet as she finishes up, though only breaks his silence with this:

"You're so lucky to have such an amazing daughter."

Sorry this took sonlong to work on. I'm trying to sort of clear the clutter in my Drafts so I can work on more new stuff. This was really fanfic-y, too and I deeply apologize for that😅

Either way, I hope you guys enjoyed this!

#school for good and evil #sge tedros #tedros of camelot #never! tedros #tagatha #sophie of woods beyond #agatha of woods beyond #sge sophie #sge agatha #sge aric

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satorinni · 4 years ago

Text

𝕞𝕦𝕥𝕖

track 18: feelings?

Kenma has never really been a people person. Yeah, over the years he’s gotten better with ‘human interaction’ , but he would still prefer to be alone. There were very few people whose company he didn’t mind, and recently he had been contemplating whether you should be added to the list. Though that idea has been teetering in and out of his mind given the fact you two hadn’t actually hung out in person. Actually, save for the one pants-less interaction, neither of you had ever been in the same room together. But still, he kinda likes you. More than a friend, he’d like to think. Though the idea scared the fuck out of him, he would actually like to take you on a real date. One that didn’t result in your dinner being up in flames.

Maybe he’d even take you to a cutesy café in Tokyo. Like the one he was currently sitting in. Eating apple pie. Across from a girl. A girl who definitely wasn’t you.

“Honestly, I don’t know why you didn’t just become a model.” After the photoshoot, Etsuko insisted on getting a bite to eat. Something about wanting to catch up because it’s been a whole year. He didn’t really understand why, he knew for a fact Kuroo called her every time something juicy happened to him. Whatever that meant. Besides, he couldn’t turn down a slice of his favorite food.

“Because wearing stupid clothes and standing in front of a camera for hours is not my ideal career, ‘Tsuko.” He took another bite of what was left of his slice. He’s glad he chose to sit in a booth away from the windows, he had already been recognized twice on the way here. It’s why he did his best to avoid walking through the city. Especially dressed like this.

“C’mon, Kenmaaaa, the button up is cute. You look like a businessman.” She snorts through her smoothie straw.

“I am a businessman. I’m quite literally a CEO.” He gives her a deadpan stare before taking a sip from his own milkshake. “I don’t know how your rooster boy manages to wear this stupid getup 24/7. I’m suffocating in these slacks.” He’d been pulling at the tight-fitting pants all day, but the magazine suggested he look professional for the shoot.

“What’s the matter, Kenma? Too much junk in the front?” Etsuko wiggles her eyebrows at him. She always did have the dirtiest mind.

“Gross, ‘tsuko.” He squints at her and shakes his head.

“Speaking of your little fella, when was the last time you got laid, baby boy?” Despite her suggestive tone, Kenma knew she was genuinely curious. She was the one who told him what sex was anyway. Gross, he shudders at the memory.

“Is that an offer, ‘Tsuko?” He knew it wasn’t, and he knew even if it was the answer would be no, but he was deflecting.

“Only if you let me post it on the hub.” She winks at him and slurps at her empty cup for emphasis. “Quit deflecting, Kenma, I heard about your lil boo thang.” She cracks up at her own joke and asks the waiter for a refill.

Kenma scrunches his nose in disgust. “Don’t call her that.” Yeah, you guys weren’t dating, and yeah, you probably didn’t even know he liked you, but still.

“Look at you, defending her honor, how sweet.” She mockingly shakes her head at every word. “I heard you stole her from little rooster boy.” She leans in towards him, like it was some big secret.

“Of course he exaggerated that, he’s the one who set her food on fire. Besides, she texted me first.” He recounts the way he freaked the fuck out when he saw you texted him. His demeanor was always more calm over the internet, probably why he had millions of fans, but he was still an antisocial wreck IRL.

“Ahh, so she’s ballsy, huh. Who knew little Kenma liked bold girls? Tell me about her.” She leans her head into her palm. To anyone else she would’ve dropped it already, losing interest. But this was Kenma, she was always poking her nose into his business.

“She’s a med student, same age as me. Friend of a friend, I guess. “ He shrugs. He figured that would keep her dormant enough to change the subject.

“You got yourself a smarty pants. Cute, but that’s not what I wanted to know.” She raises her eyebrow at him. “Do you like her? Is this just a hump and dump? You gonna marry her?” Her eyes got wider with every question, it kinda freaked him out.

Damn, he thought he could dodge it, but Etsie has always been super pushy. “I don’t know. I mean I'm definitely not gonna hit it & quit it. I haven’t even hung out with her for real. And dude, I’m 23, m’not thinking about marrying anyone at the moment.” He held his breath and figured that was enough. He was not ready to admit it out loud yet.

“Ah ah ah, you skipped a question, baby boy.” She gives him a devilish grin and leans in even closer. “I won’t tell a soul.”

Okay, even if she was a bit much, Etsuko never spilled Kenma’s secrets. To anyone. Not even Kuroo. But it wasn’t that he didn’t trust her. It was just... Was he ready to admit he had feelings? It's only been a few months, and he hadn’t even spoken to you in person. So what if he texted and called you 24/7? Wouldn’t it be too early? You’d probably be freaked out if he went ahead and confessed his feelings so early on.

Ah, fuck it.

“Yeah, ‘Tsuko. I like her. Like a lot. She’s funny as hell, smart as shit, and she gets me. Plus she’s the prettiest girl I’ve ever met. Like, prettier than you.” He knows that would probably offend any other girl, but he was only ever straight up with ‘Tsuko.

“EEK!” Etsuko lets out a pig squeal that has other customers staring in confusion. She balls her fists up and starts shaking aggressively. “My baby boy has a crush! EEK! I’m so proud of you.” She leans over the whole table and grabs Kenma’s face, placing a loud kiss on his forehead.

He flicks her forehead and smiles. “Shut up, it’s not like this is the first crush I’ve ever had.”

“I take pride in being your first crush, little bro.” She places her hand on her chest in mock pain, but the grin on her face exposes itself.

“When you put it like that it sounds like incest. I was 8, you weirdo. ” Both were true, when Kenma first met Etsuko he developed a crush on her. (Mostly because she was the only girl who he’d ever interacted with.) It only lasted a month anyway; he eventually got annoyed with how much her and her brother were at his house. Now, after 15 years of being stuck with Kuroo, Kenma could only ever see them both as the siblings he never had.

“Still, I was your first love, Kenma.” She looks off dramatically into the distance, as if she was having a flashback.

“You’re gay.” The smirk on his face gives off his slight amusement with her stupidly dramatic antics.

“Now, “ She slams her hands on the table, causing more people to stare and the silverware to rattle, “Aren’t you going to ask me about my lovelife?”

“No, I don’t care.” He snorts at the hurt look on her face.

“Well, my girlfriend is doing WONDERFUL, Kozume Kenma, thanks for asking.” She crosses her arms and sticks her nose in the air.

“Yeah, whatever, you’re paying.” He pulls out his phone to see if there are any texts from you. On cue, the notification on his phone displays your name. He grins down at the unopened text, not even bothering to hide his happiness from Etsuko.

Mid-rant about how he should pay because he’s got all the money, she stops and stares at him. A soft smile appears on her face, a swell of pride shoots through her. She only ever saw Kenma as a baby brother, and was genuinely happy for his growth over the years.

Suddenly, Kenma’s phone flashes with your contact, a facetime call from you.

“I gotta take this.” He moves to sit up, but looks up at Etsuko at the last second.

She grins and nods towards the door.

“Go get em, tiger.”

𝕡𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘: kozume kenma x medstudent!f!reader

𝕥𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥: send an ask to be added!

𝕤𝕪𝕟𝕠𝕡𝕤𝕚𝕤: enroute to being a neurosurgeon, y/n l/n doesn’t have time for fun, let alone dating. after her friends set her up on a blind date gone wrong, she comes face 2 face with none other than her date’s best friend. her world flips on axis, and suddenly she has no idea how her brain works, or love-at-first-sight.

𝕒/𝕟: this was probably rlly poorly written LMFOAD

taglist!

@katsuki-bakuhoee @sirachano0dles @qwir-0 @sailorstrawberi @calumsfringe @oppositesunchild @akioaly @aikochan4859 @drownedbytears @buttermasterbillie @vvenusblue @bluefaeriefury @ktzuki @mirikusashes @tsukibaby @toaster-stick @woohoney @just-snog-already @adorable-punk-superheroes @nikanikabitch @starrywriteshaikyuu @acabbaybee @theblueslytherin @sakusasupremacist @waywardcowboyllamavoid @rintaoreo @immxnty @noliamallpayne @sadcosmicdoggie @aizumii @c-o-n-q-u-e-r @sunahyejin @zaedynnn @triskoof @bakugouswh0r3 @ilauvcoldpizza @tina-98 @izzy28901 @kookie-doughs @black-rose-29 @moonlightaangel @kakamihasatmblr

#mute #social media au #smau #kenma kozume #haikyuu!! smau #kozume kenma #kenma kozume x reader #kenma smau #kenma x reader #kenma kozume smau #kozume x reader #kozume kenma smau

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blackjewles · 4 years ago

Text

Practice

Summary Below:

Hiya! So I got this idea. I ship Kaminari with a lot of people. Jirou, Sero, and Shinsou. So I thought, I could combine two of them. In this piece of writing, Kaminari has a crush on Jirou and is planning on asking her out soon. However, he’s scared that she’ll try to kiss him. It’s not that he doesn’t want to kiss her, it’s that he’s never kissed anyone before. So, he complains to Sero about it. Sero then offers practice like a good friend would. This is significantly more KamiSero cantered than KamiJirou, btw.

*NOT SMUT!*

Kaminari flopped down onto Seros floor and sighed, loudly, and noticeably. At first, Sero didn’t say anything. He kept his eyes glued on his video game in front of him and his fingers flew across his controller. He was in a aggressive mode of concentration.

“Sero,” Kaminari whined and reached in his direction, “Hey.”

Sero cleared his throat and quickly said “Just a sec, ‘bout to beat this level. Then we can talk.” Kaminari clicked his tounge and flopped his hand down on the floor.

After a few minutes, Sero whisper-shouted a victory announcement and saved his game. Then, he placed down the controller and relaxed more comfortably on his bean-bag.

“What’s up?” Sero asked, placing his hands in his hoodie pocket. Kaminari sat up to sit next to him, leaning against Seros bed frame. Then, he spoke.

“Well... I like Jirou, you know?” Kaminari sighed.

“Yeah, you talk about her like- all the time.” Sero stated. Kaminari chuckled.

“Shut up,” he said playfully, “Anyways. I like her- a lot. Okay? And I want to tell her.” He continued.

“Dude, go for it. She *totally* likes you back.” Sero encouraged. He then adjusted his position so that he was laying down, looking up at Kaminari.

“No man, that’s not the problem. I hope she likes me back- well- I think she does but...” Kaminari trailed off.

“But...?” Sero encouraged him to keep going.

“Yeah- but I’ve never kissed- anyone- before...” Kaminari mumbled, looking away slightly embarrassed.

“That’s it?” Sero asked bluntly. Kaminari nodded. A few seconds of silence prevailed until Sero got up. He padded over to his drawers and searched through. He then grabbed a small white container and opened it, three white objects in a pill shape spilled out. He put one in his mouth, one back in the tin, and handed one to Kaminari.

“Mint?” He asked. Kaminari grabbed it and popped it in his mouth.

“Thanks.” Kaminari whispered, unsure of what Sero was doing. Sero then sat down and inhaled deeply. He was preparing an encouraging speech.

“Well, I think it’s totally normal to be nervous. I mean- I was nervous for my first kiss so I totally get it. But really, as long as you don’t like- lick her face, I think you’d be totally fine! It’s not like you’re gonna make out with her right away.” Sero chuckled at his own joke. Kaminari laughed aswell, however, he was stuck on one thing Sero mentioned.

“You’ve had your first kiss?” Kaminari asked, the tips of his ears ever so slightly red. Sero nodded.

“Huh. Didn’t know that. Well, thanks man. But I can’t help but worry you know?” Kaminari looked down at his hands, he moved them for emphasis.

“How do you- do it- like, I know it’s not hard I just don’t know how.” Kaminari complained, he then pursed his lips in a classic kissy-face. “Obviously, you’re not gonna do it like that, so like- how else?” He complained further.

“Well yeah-“ Sero began, laughing, “You obviously don’t do that.”

“Yeah. I know.” Kaminari leaned his head back, and set his hands down in his lap.

“I guess I’m just scared I’ll fuck everything up. I wish I had more experience. Every girl I’ve asked out has said no, or, they just flirt for a bit and leave. Jirou, she- she’s the only person I actually think has ever liked me like I like them.” Kaminari added, sounding slightly more troubled. Sero tapped his shoulder to get him to look at him.

“You won’t fuck up.” He reassured. Kaminari shrugged it off, he didn’t believe him.

“Well,” Sero began, Kaminari looked up to hear what he was going to say, “Kiss me then.”

Kaminaris eyes widened and he sat up straight. Suddenly, his face, chest and neck all got hot. Kiss Sero? The thought made his breath hitch. Kaminari didn’t necessarily like Sero in the way that he liked Jirou, however, he couldn’t help but be nervous at the offer. Sero was a pretty boy, after all. There was no denying that.

“But you’re-“ Kaminari started, nervously.

“Straight?” Sero asked, Kaminari nodded in reply. Sero scoffed,

“Who cares if I’m straight. It’s not like I’m kissing you because you’re in love with me, I’m just doing you a favor.” Sero replied, Kaminari rubbed at the back of his neck and looked away. He was trying to get the obvious blush he had to go away.

“Oh- you don’t have to man. No pressure.” Sero added. Kaminari shook his head, almost too urgently.

“No- it’s okay. I think practice might be good.” Kaminari admitted.

“Yeah, practice.” Sero said, testing out the words in his mouth.

“Well. First of all, don’t do that stupid thing with your lips you did earlier.” Sero said, adjusting himself so his body was leaning towards the blond. Kaminari laughed and nodded, feeling a little less uncomfortable than before. Kaminari also adjusted so he was facing Sero.

“Oh and, I’ll initiate it. You can worry about how to initiate later. And close your eyes, please.” Sero added to his instructions. Kaminari nodded, and closed his eyes. Something about the word “later” though, made his throat close in ever so slightly.

Then, there was an unfamiliar warmth against his jaw, it was Seros hands. Sero tilted his face up and began to lean in. Kaminari was very nervous. Not that he didn’t want to kiss him- it was just that it would be his first. Plus, Kaminari was into boys too, which seemed like an added pressure. What if he liked it too much?

“Hey. Breathe. No need to be nervous, I won’t hurt you.” Sero reassured. He must’ve noticed the blonds stiffness. Kaminaris eyes fluttered open to see Sero closer than before. He smiled and untensed. He would be just fine. Besides, kissing your best friend is better than practicing on your hand, right?

“Okay, close your eyes.” Sero instructed. Kaminari did as told. And almost immediately, an unfamiliar pair of lips was pressed against his. Seros lips where warm, it was odd, but he didn’t mind it. But just as soon as they came, they left.

“Move your lips, dude. You don’t wanna be stone faced.” Sero said as he pulled away. Kaminari flushed.

“Sorry.” He replied.

“No worries.” Sero forgave. He then moved his hand to the back of Kaminaris neck. Great, now he could feel Kaminari blush from nervousness.

He then saw Sero close his eyes, and this time, Kaminari leaned in a little too. He closed his eyes and when their lips met, he made a little motion with his own lips. It made an odd noise against the others and he immediately pulled away an grimaced.

“Ew.” He laughed. Sero smiled.

“It’s supposed to be like that.” Sero encouraged, pulling an amused smirk. Kaminari looked a little disgusted.

“If you’re not gonna be able to kiss me, how are you gonna be able to kiss her?” Sero taunted. Kaminari rolled his eyes a little. But, he knew Sero was right.

Sero kissed him once more. And again, and again. They didn’t talk between these ones, it was just practice. Of course the noise of their lips meeting still bothered Kaminari, but, it was kind of nice. Maybe a little too nice...

Sero pulled away and wiped his mouth. Something about the action made Kaminari go red. God, he shouldn’t be that pretty...

“Oh. Sorry. You shouldn’t wipe your mouth immediately after. Some people find that rude.” Sero apologized. Kaminari thought that was weird, in fact, he found it attractive.

“Why? I thought it was...” Kaminari trailed off then shook his head. He stopped himself by saying “I’m not finishing that sentence.” Sero laughed lightly.

Then, they both leaned in again. This time, their teeth banged together and they both pulled away and laughed way louder than before.

“Oh my god!” Kaminari exclaimed, covering his face with his hands as he laughed.

“Okay-“ Sero began while giggling, “Avoid that at all costs.” He guided. Kaminari nodded.

“Obviously.” He replied.

It was then that the Blond noticed how much the space between them had changed. Sero’s face wasn’t more than 30cm (11 inches) away. Plus, their legs where somehow perfectly placed so that they where rather close to eachother. Kaminari gulped. They where right across from each other, practically gazing into eachothers eyes. When did his eyes start to sparkle like that?

“We can stop at anytime, you know.” Sero poked, making sure he wasn’t uncomfortable. Kaminari shook his head lightly.

“It’s okay.” Kaminari whispered back. He had the sudden urge to not go for a simple peck this time, but rather, let it linger just a little longer.

They both leaned in once more. This time (thank the lord), it was their lips that met. Kaminari did the same movement with his lips he had done before. They stayed for a second or two until Sero disconnected.

“Good.” He whispered. Kaminari suddenly felt his stomach flutter from the way he said it.

Kaminari hesitated, but his hand found its way to Seros shoulder for better support.

They kissed again. Kaminari still wanted it to last a little longer, though, so he didn’t pull away right away. Instead, he kissed him for a few seconds more. Sero didn’t pull away immediately either.

Once he had, he said, “You’ve got it.” And smiled, Kaminari smiled too. He pulled away further, widening the space between them.

“Do what you just did again to her when it happens, make it last a little longer alright?” Sero instructed. Kaminari nodded. He was feeling a lot less nervous now.

And with this new found confidence, he wanted to try kissing Sero. He wanted to initiate.

“Can I try, like, initiating it?” Kaminari asked first. Sero smiled and bit his lower lip. This action confused (and attracted) Kaminari, so he cocked his head.

“Oh, just thinking that you’re getting confident now. Yes, you can.” Sero said.

“Pretend I am the girl of your dreams.” Sero teased. Without hesitation, Kaminari leaned in and kissed him once more. Sero didn’t expect this so his eyes where open, but he quickly closed them and reciprocated the kiss. Then, Kaminari pulled away.

“Kissing me to shut me up, wow. You flirt!” Sero teased. Kaminari laughed. Then realizing that his hand was actually on Sero’s chest now and not his shoulder. His inhaled sharply, but tried to cover it up.

“Once more.” Kaminari said. Sero nodded approvingly. And then, for the last time of that night, their lips met. Though it wasn’t happening psychically , it felt like Kaminari was sparking. After a few seconds they pulled away. Kaminari at first looked to be dazed, however, that expression immediately changed into accusation as a thought struck him.

“Is this why you gave me a breath mint?!” He accused. Sero laughed and pushed Kaminari’s hand off his chest. Kaminari gasped.

“Did you plan this?” He asked, pointing a finger at him. Sero looked at him with a shit eating grin.

“It was just in case.”

Kaminaris jaw dropped. He wasn’t mad at all, no, he was amused. But he still pushed Seros shoulders away and called him a whore jokingly.

After their laughter had died down, Kaminari thanked Sero. The whole situation seemed rather odd, however, it did make him more confident for when the time to confess came. Sero shrugged off his thankfulness and said “It’s what friends do.” Which they laughed about again.

It’s what friends do.

Below is 2 bonus parts!

(#1)

Haha! Plot twist! Kirishima overheard one part!

Kirishima, walking to alert the boys that Sato made brownies: *about to knock on the door*

Sero: if you’re not gonna be able to kiss me, how are you gonna be able to kiss her?

Kirishima: *slowly recedes hand and walks away*

*back in common room*

Bakugou: Ay, where are the idiots?

Kirishima, with a look of pure traumatization: They’re busy.

(#2)

Oh no. Kaminari is catching feelings!

As Kaminari retired to bed for the night, he couldn’t help but think about what had happened earlier. Slowly, his hand lifted to his bottom lip and he lightly touched it. He kissed him... He kissed a boy... He couldn’t help but blush. Maybe, just maybe, he had enjoyed it a little too much. And maybe, he’d come to him for kissing advice again. And maybe, that time it wouldn’t be just because he needed practice. Maybe it would be because he liked the feeling of his lips. Not pretending it was hers. Just his. Maybe, he wanted to kiss him like he was in love with him and not Jirou. Maybe, he liked him more than he thought.

Andddd all done! I hope you guys enjoyed reading it! The second bonus part is actually based of personal experience after I (accidentally) kissed a friend I had a crush on. It was my first kiss, too. Rather weird. But anyways. That moment in my real life is what inspired the finger-to-lip imagery because that’s what I did right after. Anyways, besides that, thank you for reading and supporting me. Reblogs are welcome.

#bnha #mha #denki kaminari #kaminari denki #sero hanta #hanta sero #kamisero #serokami #kaminari x sero #sero x kaminari #kamijirou

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 4 years ago

Text

The Hard Things

Doing the right thing is never easy. Calum and Freya have a lot going for them. But what happens when fear gets in the way.

Inspired by I Follow Rivers by Marika Hackman and Starting Line by Luke Hemmings.

Calum X Black Female OC.

I cried once writing this. 7.4k words. Angst. Just angst and sarcasm.

@notinthesameguey is personally responsible for this. So blame her.

The Hard Things--Alternative Ending

Masterlist (on semi hiatus)

___________________________________

If Freya were going to be honest, she would admit that the second she saw Calum and his friends walk into the building she knew things were going to be bad. But Freya’s not being honest. Because being honest would almost include admitting just how too easy it was that day. How if those particular sequences of events hadn’t happened that specifically, then she wouldn’t be here--trying not to watch the quiver in his chin or the way he blinks rapidly. Then she wouldn’t be trying to forget the way his voice quakes.

But they did happen in that particular order. On a Thursday afternoon, he and his friends walked through the door. And here, here at this part, it’s easy to be honest.

Honestly, she is staring--way too hard and way too long at the rag-tag gaggle of people, but especially the man pulling up the rear of the group with a bright red hat snug on his head and covering his eyes, though not even the brim can hide the plump full lips pulled up into a tiny grin at something that must’ve been said. Because another guy, this one fairer-skinned in a hat too and a baggy t-shirt is also laughing. And of course, this group would enter just as Tre stepped away to check on the lanes already throwing. Vanessa wasn’t too far from the desk, but she was trying to help some parents figure out when they could schedule an event for someone’s birthday in the coming weeks.

This only leaves Freya as the only person available right now until rounds were completed to handle any new patrons. With a glance down to the clock on the computer, she could see that a couple more folks would be coming back to the front at any point. But clearly, that point wouldn’t come quick enough.

“Hi,” Freya greets flicking her gaze back up to the group with a quick smile. It’s the training. The fact that more than once she’d been told that customers liked her, especially the way she gave instructions but she needed to smile more. And if this weren’t the job keeping her afloat during her time of getting her degree, in addition to the administrative desk work she did at the university, she would leave here in a heartbeat. Possibly even in the blink of an eye. Whichever was faster.

“Hey! We were hoping you had a couple of lanes for us.”

Freya counts the head. “Just you seven?”

The guy that spoke initially turns the man in the back with the bright red hat on. “Still no word from her?”

The guy shrugs. “Don’t sweat it.” And Freya clings to every syllable. The almost sleepy drawl to his voice lined with a twinge of an accent. She can’t place it at first. But all of them share slight variations in it. The man in the red hat’s voice is low but smooth.

“Yeah just the seven of us,” a taller man pipes in.

“Okay, we can only have two people throwing on a lane at a time. I can put you on neighboring ones but we’ve got very strict rules about how many people can throw at a time.”

There’s a murmur amongst the group but eventually, it comes back to Freya that they’re okay with it. She runs down the safety rules, the forms they have to form out, and checks their IDs. She notices the man with the red hat’s name is Calum and though she knows she shouldn’t, she tries to commit it to memory. It won’t last long. She forgets names all too fast, but she never forgets a face.

“Nessa, watch the desk for me!” Freya calls out as she collects the cases with the axes and directs the party to their lanes. There’s a table for convening and a separate for the axes to rest. “Alright,” she starts with a quick whistle to settle the group. They get chatty but are quick to turn their attention back to her. “I don’t want to kick anyone out, but I will. So one last recap of the rules.”

When Freya finishes, she has the entire group repeat the rules back to her. When they return it to her all correctly, she smiles. “I appreciate y’all already. There are several range officers. They monitor carefully from several posts,” and she points them out as she speaks. “The shift rotates out in an hour. Meaning you’ll have to pause let the old shift go and let the new shift jump in. You’ll hear beeps to signal you to stop and start. If you have any other questions or concerns, you can find me at the front or a range officer. And we’ll be happy to help. Let’s keep all fingers, toes, extremities, and eyeballs intact and we can have a great day together. Enjoy.”

Usually, in her safety spills and best way to throw, Freya makes sure to keep eye contact with everyone in the group. However, she places a purposeful gaze on Calum when she tells them to enjoy. It’s reckless--she knows that. A little flirting hasn’t hurt her. Besides, she knows the moment she walks away, he’ll forget about her. They always did and she likes it like that. Flirty enough to keep good reviews, but never too flirty to insinuate anything more.

In her departure, Freya feels eyes on her, lasting longer than usual. And maybe she put more emphasis behind the swish of her hips and maybe she hoped it was Calum watching her walk away. But she doesn’t dare turn around. No matter how much she hopes in a fleeting second that maybe she had flirted just a little too much, Freya does not turn around to confirm or deny anything.

Back at the front desk, Freya takes a look at the cameras. Anyone at the front can see the lanes too--it’s for safety when you have live blades. Her gaze travels over each one though just out of the corner of her eye she catches the bright red hat. A few guys clasp him on the back but she can’t hear whatever else is said. The rest of the afternoon goes by slowly. As people leave, few come in to replace them. The weekend will be busier--it always in. And Freya knows that soon too, once the afternoon becomes evening things will pick up just a little.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here. Everything okay?”

Freya barely sees who it is talking before they’re out of the door. Calum, phone pressed to his ear. She watches him for a beat as he paces near the front windows of the establishment. Her gaze doesn’t linger long before something on the floor catches her eye. She sees it’s black and square. When she gets closer it looks like a wallet. Clearly used and loved by the creases in it. She glances back up to Calum to see him still on the phone and peeks at the ID just to make sure who it belongs to.

With the blank stare of Calum’s ID photo looking up at her, Freya takes it back behind the desk. She’ll wait until he gets off the phone. A minute or two later, the door chimes again with Calum reentering.

“Hey, you dropped this,” she calls out, stepping out from the desk to hold out the wallet.

Calum pats his pockets and a split second panic causes his eyes to go wide. “Oh shit, thanks. I-I didn’t even realize it fell out of my pocket.”

“No worries. Just glad to get it back to you.” Calum takes it and slips it into his pocket, hands patting the outside to make doubly sure it’s secure. “You guys doing okay back there?

“Yeah, we’re good. Though I think somehow the girls are kicking our asses.”

Freya smiles with a small tuft of laughter escaping her. “It’s power and finesse. You can tear down brick buildings but if you don’t get the release right so it’s not twirling over the axis too many times, you’ll come up with nothing.”

“So says the expert?”

Her cheeks heat for a second at the raised eyebrow Calum gives her. Running her tongue over her teeth to hide the smile, Freya nods. “Yeah, I’ve thrown an axe or two in my lifetime. So I guess that counts as me being an expert.”

Calum laughs. Whether it’s at her or not, Freya’s not sure. But she likes the sound of it. “Tell me what else the expert suggests.”

A moment passes where Freya’s watching his gaze. Wondering if an anime glint will twinkle over his brown eyes because it’s a smooth delivery. Smoother than some of the stuff she’s done. There’s no way he’s fucking real.

Freya takes a half step back, slipping through the threshold that separates the front desk from the main lobby and the hallway to the back where the lanes are set up. “This expert suggests that you try her advice and impress all your friends.”

“More finesse. In the wrist, right?”

“In the wrist.”

A shy smile is shared between the two of them. It borders telling everything and saying nothing at all, borders on giving away on how much Calum might’ve considered concocting a ruse just to get her attention and how much he did backtrack on his plan because it was his sister calling and that shocked him. The smile borders on Freya twirling the Havana twists around her finger and her rolling her eyes at Calum’s thinly veiled attempts at flirting.

Both of them are saved by the front door chiming and Freya gives a nod to Calum before turning her attention to the person now entering. But Calum watches the way she leans into the counter and smiles down at the small child standing next to their parent. “Oh my god, you’re getting so big,” Freya comments and then walks back around to settle next to them.

“No, Fre, I’m not bigger dan yesterday,” the kid responds.

“Huh, could’ve fooled me. Your dad will be out in just a second. Shift change had to wait for one more person. Anything cool happen at school today?”

Calum leaves then, though he can catch the small boy gush about the races he won at recess. It’s probably crazy of him to try and find some sort of way to come back here again soon, but Calum’s already trying to put together an excuse.

When Calum heads back to the front with the group, laughing at Michael’s utter disgust at the way the last few throws went, he does look for Freya. A girl with red hair is sitting at the desk instead. And though a little bit of disappoints settles into his stomach because he wanted to tell her how well her advice worked, he finds himself resolved and it wouldn’t be broken.

******

Calum told himself whatever Freya had to say during this talk wouldn’t break him. Hell, if he were honest, he didn’t think it would go like this. “You know, I used to say I was no good for people all the time,” Calum laughs. He sniffs hard and wipes his noses on the back of his nose. “It was a clean get-away line.”

“I’m not giving you a get-away line. I’m giving you the truth,” Freya returns.

“No, I’m-I’m not saying you’re giving me bullshit. You’re setting a boundary and a good one at that. I respect it. I’m just saying the irony. The same thing I used to tell others is coming back my way.”

“Karma’s a bitch.”

“I don’t regret it.” Calum shakes his head, not because he’s lying. But to emphasize his point.

*****

Calum doesn’t regret going to the Yelp, Facebook, or Instagram page of the business to see if she had liked it or appeared anywhere on their social media. And luck would have it, he manages to find her. The owners like to show off their employees. Their preferred form of employee appreciation appears, in Calum’s investigation, to be a quick bio of new employees along with a video of them throwing. He nearly misses Freya’s post because of his quick scrolls. The bottom of the page comes up quicker than the app could handle and just as the new page loads that he notices it. The thick twists and black lipstick sitting on her cool dark brown skin.

He doesn’t regret it when he followed the account that was tagged, or the message he sent her from his finsta, or the messages they exchanged for a few days. And he for damn sure can’t find himself to regret it when he came back to the place a couple of weeks later to see if Freya was working.

There’s no regret when she smiles at him and laughs. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to test your theory yet again. It worked last time. But I want to make sure that it wasn’t beginner’s luck.”

“You doubt me. You dare doubt me? I’m offended.”

Calum laughs briefly as he leans into the counter of the front desk. “It’s more like I’m testing a theory. Making sure the results can be recreated.”

“Oh, I promise you my results are valid.” She reaches out for his ID and every so gently their fingers brush. Calum can’t tell if that’s intentional or not, but it doesn’t the slight shiver that runs down his spine. “So just you today, huh?” Freya continues on, grabbing a clipboard, some forms, and a pen.

“Just me.”

“Rest of your friends scared.” Her gaze falls to the stack she’s gathering, checking something off on the top page and then sliding the ID back to Calum.

“They’d probably laugh at me if they knew I was here.”

“Laugh at you?”

“Tell me--why do you think I’m here?”

A moment passes between them. Though it takes up more like several seconds, time feels froze as Freya studies his face. Calum wants to reach up and readjust his hat out of a nervous habit. He wants to take it back. But more than anything, he wants to know if he has a shot. If it’s worth really pursuing.

“I think you’re here to test a theory. Maybe, just maybe you’re here because of Vanessa too,” she smiles as it says. Like she knows that isn’t the truth but she doesn’t want to give into Calum.

And while it’s not the answer he was hoping for, Calum takes it. She wants to play a game and he can be down for that.

*****

She wants to reach out for his hands. They sit next to each other in the lounge chairs Calum keeps lined around his pool. But Freya thinks twice about it. The bulbs dangle above them casting an amber hue onto the water, a stark contrast to the twilight pressing evening closer to night’s full darkness. Freya does regret it. She regrets not leaving her teasing response just to testing a theory. She knew what Calum was fishing for, what he was hoping to confirm when he came back by himself.

Maybe it was just where she was then. Then she thought she could give more. Now she realizes she can’t. She likes it when she’s dating someone and they can decide on a random Sunday for errand runs. She likes having them around. And not that Calum wouldn’t be around. Tours didn’t happen all the time. But they did run long. And who the hell knows where she’d be in eight months after she graduated. Her life wasn’t stable--she wasn’t tied to the West Coast like Calum was.

Her life was full of variables. Ones that she didn’t really plan on trying to solve until closer to Christmas in the spring right before graduation. And she didn’t want to give Calum any more false hope. It wasn’t set in stone that she’d be staying in LA and it wasn’t set in stone that she could handle the long departures. Calum deserved someone that was more sure of themselves.

“I think having regrets is no good anyway,” Freya says, finally breaking the long silence between them. “Having them doesn’t change what happened anyway.” But that doesn’t change the fact that you still regret this, Freya thinks to herself.

“I used to believe love could overcome any obstacle.”

Freya turns to look to Calum and catches thhe way the stubble on his chin from the few weeks he’s gone without shaving halos just a little in the lights. “Used to? The right person, the right love--”

Calum shakes his head. “Now I think people loving me means that they love themselves and they can tell me what they want or need. No guessing. No games.”

“Still sounds a lot of a hell lot like overcoming obstacles.”

“But it’s not a dream. It’s tangible. It’s not me daydreaming up in the clouds. It’s me--right here. Right now. Knowing seeing what it means more than anything else that all the shit I was thinking of as a kid really needed just to be put on the ground level for me.”

“What-what do you mean?”

“I mean as much as it fucking sucks that you’re telling me no, I know you’re doing it for the right reasons. I-there’s like this thing with me. I watch people. I don’t walk into a room of strangers and become the center of attention. I don’t like people all that much, but I care. You know? I care about the people I put into my life and I want them to do well and succeed. I want what’s best for them. It’s not always easy to want that, but innately, I do, I think. Deep down I want what’s good for people. And maybe love is doing the hard things, you know.”

He pauses. Freya watches the way he drops his head, fingers threading through the curls. She keeps quiet. There’s something more, something deeper to the words. “And you’re doing the hard thing. Whether it’s for me or not is debatable,” Calum continues. “But I think love is doing the hard things.”

“You said that having some space was important to you. And while I understand that, like you do need to be your own person in a relationship--”

“Your reasons or how you want to justify it to yourself for me isn’t something I need. You already said that you know what you expect and like out a relationship and that the touring would be too hard for you. Set boundaries for you. What good does it do to justify it to me?”

“So you know I’m not being an asshole, Calum. For fuck sake.”

“No, no, I-shit. I didn’t mean it like that. I meant--who are boundaries really for? What do they do?”

“I guess they do protect the person making them. But I’m not trying to be an asshole to you. I swear.”

Calum looks up from the cement of his background lining the pool to the glossy sheen coating Freya’s eyes. They’re black in the settling night. But Calum knows they’re more like a medium brown--dark enough to get lost in them, but when they catch the light just right, they can feel like an enchanting spell sucking him in.

“Freya, you are a sarcastic son of a bitch. But an asshole to those that don’t deserve it, never.”

She sucks on her teeth, swatting at his bicep. “Take that back.”

Calum leans onto his left elbow, closing the gap between them just a little. A smile lifts his lips gently. “Never.”

“We’ve both been burned. Is it bad I didn’t want that again?”

“No. I used to say love is a scam. So I don’t think I’m necessarily the poster boy for relationships.”

“But admit it, you hoped this was the one so you wouldn’t be the odd man out.” His brows furrow at her comment. Freya gives him a soft smile. “Two of the guys are engaged. But all three of them are in a relationship.”

He sighs, gazing dropping from her face. “Maybe I was hoping so. Is it bad of me to want to be in love?”

“No. I told some kids that my boyfriend was Shermar Moore,” Freya admits with a laugh. “I was working at a summer camp and one girl saw his picture on my phone. It was my lockscreen for the longest time. So I just went with it. Well, I was spurred in part because of Drew who was a fucking creep and wouldn’t leave me alone. But I did fantasize about it. Dream of being in love with some famous and the limelight. Shit at that point, I hadn’t even dated anyone either. So another part of it was a desire too.”

“Is that part of it too? Worried about what trolls and whatever will say?”

“Oh, no one who doesn’t know shit about it can make me get outside myself.” Freya laughs but reclines into the cushions of the chair. “But maybe it’s a little bit of it. That’s too many voices talking all about you. It’s a lot of noise and some of it has to bleed through you know. Even if you’re careful and you work not to take it in, some does, right?”

“I don’t think humans were created to be able to handle that much criticism or even love and adoration. Our brains can’t handle it. So yeah, a little bit seeps in. But you keep that door closed as much as you can. You talk to people that also get it. Fuck, you even get a therapist.”

“Or a dog,” Freya says before turning her head to watch Duke laying inside next to the back door.

“And a dog,” Calum corrects.

“Excuse me, you get a therapist and a dog.”

“Tell me something.”

“I’m listening,” Freya returns, looking back to Calum.

“Before you go tonight, tell me the thing you’re going to cherish between us.”

“Will you do the same?” Calum nods at the question but doesn’t respond verbally as he gazes at her.

“Do you want to answer now?”

“Are you leaving now?”

“I-I didn’t think you wanted me to stay.”

“I want you to stay as long as you feel comfortable. And then when you leave, the parting thing we have is the good, the best of us.”

“What if I stay until dawn?”

“Then you stay until dawn. Though, I think it’s safe to say both of us will pass out by 3 AM.”

“That was the most ridiculous thing I think I’ve ever done,” Freya laughs. Remembering the same she spent a Friday night after a shift at Calum’s place. He had a birthday party on Saturday along with a vet appointment with Duke. And then Sunday, Freya had we weekly lunch with her friends that she couldn’t miss. So Calum asked her if she wanted dinner Friday night at his place. Which she said yes to, but then it turned into them doing a movie marathon. Which then turned into Calum betting her that he could stay up longer than her. But they ultimately passed out around 3 in the morning on Calum’s couch.

“Thankfully, I did not miss Duke’s vet appointment that time,” Calum tacks on.

“Yeah, no thanks to me waking you up half an hour before it.”

“That darlin’ is what I call details.”

“No, I call that a very important fact,” Freya defends sitting up. “Duke would’ve been late twice if not for me.”

Calum giggles at her incredulous look. She always got heated fast, though she knew when it was serious things and when it wasn’t. “It wasn’t him paying for the visit.”

“So you ought to kiss the ground I’m standing on right now because you didn’t have to pay anything like a cancellation fee.”

“You’re not standing on any ground right-” the sentence doesn’t get the wind to complete itself when Calum watches her stand up. “Or maybe you are standing up.”

Freya hears him, but she gazes up to the sky. Trying to look past the twinkle of his backyard lights. There’s not much to see due to the light pollution. But the sounds capture her attention next. His neighborhood’s almost been mostly quiet. But with the twinge of the summer’s heat fading, Freya can hear the last bit of people outside. A dog barks into the night and there’s the crunch only tires on gravel and asphalt can give. There’s a hum in the night that Freya can feel in her bones.

It’s hard not to fall in love with the sounds of the night. It’s hard not to romanticize this, how possibly if things were different she could find herself at some point always standing in the middle of this backyard listening to the sounds of the night, having Calum beside her or maybe Duke when he’s gone and just letting herself go to the buzz. In all honesty, Freya craved stability. Always having something to come back was her dream. But in that dream it was a partner who would be there for every dinner. A shared space that was full with both of their presences.

“When you think about coming home what’s there?” Freya asks. “Like, in ten years, what’s in your home when you walk inside?”

Calum closes his eyes, bringing the picture to his mind’s eye. “Like, the truth of what I see?”

“The truth,” Freya confirms.

“Two kids, a dog for sure. Maybe two. A wife. A lot of laughs. Being knocked over with hugs. Maybe a movie that hasn’t quite been paused catches my ears. Maybe it’s summer and my mum’s over too. Because she wants to be around the kids as much as possible. And my sister--she comes over when she can too. So we have to figure out what to cook because it’s a family dinner night. I’m mostly likely in Australia. But I could be somewhere else. Just not LA. I don’t think I could have kids here.”

“That sounds lovely, Calum.”

“But I am scared. My parents divorced. What if it doesn’t work out?”

“That wasn’t your fault. And if we heal from our trauma before having kids then maybe some of our fears won’t come to reality.”

“And if it does.”

“Then we know the boogeyman is real and sometimes we can do our best but things that are meant to happen will still happen.”

“Your parents are divorced too, right?” Calum remembers her mentioning a distinction between her mother’s house and her father’s house. But she hadn’t outright stated that her parents were divorced, just alluded to it.

“Yeah. My dad remarried. He seems happy.”

“What about you? If you closed your eyes and thought about yourself in 10 years, where are you?”

“I technically asked what do you see in your home when you walk inside 10 years from now.”

“Oh, come off it,” Calum laughs, throwing a dismissive wave her way.

“But,” she giggles and then closes her eyes. The breeze blows across her face and she lifts her chin up to catch as much of it as she can. Then she speaks, “I don’t know. Home’s full of the people I love. And I feel stable. I’m not worried about what I’m going to do weeks from now when something inevitably has to change. Because nothing’s going to change. Or at least, I’m not anticipating change. I think that’s what I’m sick of. I’m sick of dealing with change and constantly moving around and not knowing what the next year is going to look like. I’m tired of looking over my shoulder and planning. I just want to be still.”

“You did the whole back and forth between houses, huh?”

“Yeah. I always felt like I was playing two versions of myself when I was younger. I had to be one way around my mother and one way around my father and according to my therapist, the constant games of charade fucked me up a little.”

“How often did you go between their houses?”

“Every weekend.”

Calum sucks in air through his teeth, “Yikes. Yeah, no wonder you want stability.”

“Oh, thank you Dr. Hood. Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Well this is a question so it’s not something you don’t know, but is the thought of me being gone for months at a time remind you of that? Like, you’d have to be one way while I was here and then another way when I was gone?”

Freya shrugs. But it’s right on the nose. “I’d have to learn to be with you and then be without you. And all I have are switches. No dimmers. I’m either on or I’m off. And I-I’m working on it. But I’ve got a long way to go.”

Calum scoffs, whispering mostly to himself. “All I have are switches. No dimmers.” It’s not a taunt to her. It’s not him blowing her concern off. It’s recognition that colors his tone. It’s the sigh when hearing something that connects so deeply it takes all the oxygen from lungs with it.

“And I swear to Christ, Calum, if you make a Lowe’s or Home Depot joke, I will extract your ankles from you right here right now.”

“Extract? What the hell?” Calum laughs.

“Broken ankles heal,” Freya returns with a smirk. Her face is lit mostly from above due to continued standing position but Calum catches the way her lips move.

“Remind me to really never piss you off. Between your ability to throw axes and the time you told me about putting ham on a girl’s car, I don’t think I want that kind of trouble in my life.”

“I only put the ham on the car because my friend was heartbroken and she was a cunt for cheating.”

“Yeah, see that’s what I mean,” Calum points out, his index finger swirling in a circle in front of her.

“I could’ve slashed her tires too.”

“I think ruining her paint job was more than enough.”

Freya places her hands on her hips, looking down at Calum. “I’ve got some anger issues too. Did I mention that?”

They laugh but Calum recovers first to speak. “I hadn’t noticed it before. Thank you for telling me that. But in all seriousness, Freya, the boundaries you have make sense. I hope you continue with therapy as well,” he states with a giggle. “But it’s not easy to look back at yourself and realize ‘Oh shit, maybe I don’t want that thing again because that actually fucking hurt’. And do something about it. That takes a lot of strength.”

“Thanks, Calum. And I will continue with this therapist for the rest of the school year because it’s free. Shoutout to some universities for having really accessible mental health resources.”

Freya finally sits, facing Calum. He keeps his gaze averted. But it doesn’t bother her. “What’s the intention behind telling me I can stay as long as I want? Is it to get me to change my mind? Just earlier both of us were near tears and now we’re walking down memory lane. Sharing things we hadn’t shared yet.”

“I want as much of you as I can get before you’re gone. Selfish, right?” The tears are back, she can hear them in his voice.

“No. A bit of your masochism showing, certainly.”

“You ever know something’s bad for you, but you want it anyway? You want the pain anyway?”

“I mean considering both of us are littered tattoos, pain’s not something we’re too worried about.”

Calum wishes he didn’t laugh, not even the short burst of laughter. “Someone’s coping with humor.”

“Someone’s self flagellating.”

“Can I be honest?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t want you to go. But I don’t want you to hurt yourself either.”

“Maybe love is doing the hard things. You said that yourself.”

Calum swallows hard and his voice only comes out in a whisper. “I know I did.”

Freya blinks away the blur of tears. But as soon as they clear, more replace them. Her voice is tight as she speaks. “Doing the hard things suck though. Don’t think this is easy.”

“It’s because it’s the hard thing,” Calum returns. He wants to smile and manages to get a small one but he knows. Freya’s going to leave. She won’t stay.

“My favorite thing,” she starts and Calum exhales hard. There it is--the confirmation. The sentence gets caught in her throat so she pauses to clear it, work the tears down to at least speak. God, why couldn’t it have been easy. “My favorite thing between us, about us, whatever you want to label it as, is that we could also be honest. And even if it was burning waffles or ducking paps to watch a movie for an anime that you had no idea anything about because I wanted to go desperately and you had to Google a summary during the previews, we were always honest with each other.”

“I want to put it out there that you only told me that it was for an anime as I was buying the tickets. So I had zero time to prepare beforehand.”

“I told you the name of it the Monday before we saw it.”

“And admittedly, I forget it the second after you said it.”

“Fair enough, Calum. Fair enough.”

Calum spins in the chair and takes her hand. The first time they’ve touched today. Normally, Freya was more than happy to give out hugs but when Calum opened the front door, she have a half smile and stepped inside. If he could go back to earlier, he’d tell himself that was the first sign.

His thumb passes gently over the butterfly on her left hand. “The thing I’m going to cherish is that you made me feel sixteen again. My entire life changed at sixteen and I felt pretty invincible. I was also scared and excited. I was going to be in a band, like a one with lots of records and I don’t know--I only had that dream to believe in because I damn sure did not have a back up. It was before the downs. And I don’t regret the hard times either. But you’re the first person in a long time that gave me those butterflies. Assumed I was just never going to feel them again and I wasn’t a good person before, not as good as I could’ve been. But you gave me something to be good for again. Getting your text made my whole fucking day. And you-god, you cared about so many things. I bought books you recommended and couldn’t wait to talk about them with you. I remembered the kind of person I want to be. So thank you. For making me feel sixteen again in the cheesiest way possible but also in the best way possible too. That things are worth giving a shit for and that we can let people in and it won’t always burn.”

“Just a little sting.”

Calum nods. “Just a little sting.”

Freya brings his hands to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to the right one. Her sniffle is loud amongst the hum of the night. “If it weren’t for the fact that my eyeliner is tattooed to my face it would probably be running. I’m sorry it has to hurt at all. But-but I’m hopeful.”

“Hopeful?”

“Hopeful that we’ll get what we need out of life.”

He nods again, watching the tears track down her cheek. “We will.”

Her hands gently slip back out of his grasp and she uses the back of her wrist to press under her nose. The tremors shake her hands, so she shakes them before standing. Calum cranes his neck up, words about to fall from his lips. But she cups his cheek and smiles at him. “Don’t. There’s nothing else to say.”

It happens just as he blinks. He sighs, eyes closing to steel himself. Because there’s always so much else to say. And then her lips are pressing to his forehead. It last long enough for Calum to take hold of her thighs instinctively want to pull her in closer to him.

Then she’s gone. His hand slides down the rough denim and Freya’s walking to the edge of the backdoor. Duke picks up his head but doesn’t move much else. “Oh yeah, you don’t need to move. You know everyone comes to you, huh?” She gives him a few pats and scratches. “I’ll send you something for your adoption day, okay, love? And you might hate wearing it or you might love eating it. But be on the lookout for the mailman. He’ll have something from me.”

Calum doesn’t say anything as she says her goodbyes to Duke. She kisses the top of his head too and he thinks she might’ve whispered something else but he’s not certain from his spot on the chair. The swish of the tassels on Freya’s jeans signal her and the click of her heeled boots tell Calum she’s walking farther from him. The latch in the fence clicks and the wood around the hinges creak as she presses into the door. There’s a soft thud as the door shuts and then Calum can’t hear anything over the cough he uses to try and cover the tightness in his chest, can’t see anything in the blurry vision of his tears

She’s just gone.

******

When the front door bell sounds, Calum doesn’t think much of it. It could be a package or someone selling something. So he pushes up from the kitchen table and heads to the door. There on his porch is a light blue box with white bones on it. The subscription box that Calum gets already came. But then he notices an index card with a handwritten address on it. He picks it up. Right there in the return address is Freya’s name. He sucks in a breath and then looks to see who it’s addressed to: Duke Hood + Calum.

“Duke,” Calum calls out, stepping back inside to the house. He closes the door with his foot. The click of paws let him know the old man’s heard his call. “A little early birthday present has arrived just for you.”

He walks deeper into the living room and sets the box on the coffee table. Inside holds an olive green harness, treats, and a card. Calum laughs as Duke presses his snout against the bag of treats. “Alright, alright. I get it.”

Duke happily munches on one of the chews from the bag and Calum opens the card. A different letter slips out into his lap. He can see the ink and lettering pressing through to the other side. His heart hammers, but he forces himself to turn back to the card. “Dear Duke,” Calum pauses to see if Duke responds but his investigation continues on the treat. “I mean, fair enough.” Calum continues to read the card written by Freya, “Even though only the universe knows your true birthday, this card, harness, and bag of treats is meant to mark you sticking it out with your pops for yet another year. To spare you the grumps about a very cute hawaiin shirt I, instead, got a badass harness. Now you’ll be the coolest guy on the block. Happy Birthday/Adoption Day. With Love, Fre.”

Duke, done with the treat, looks to Calum and settles next in front of his folded legs. “Oh, so much work eating a treat.”

But Calum reaches down to gently pats at his tummy. The front of the car is cute, Calum finally recognizes. A cartoon white dog is drawn on it with large pink glasses against a yellow background. There’s no telling where she found it at. Calum looks down to the handwritten letter on printer paper. What would Freya possibly have to say?

Calum hadn’t had the guts to press send on any of the texts he drafted in the three months since they last talked. He wasn’t sure if he could. He is sure that if Freya hadn’t wanted anything to do with him, she would’ve said so, and she wouln’t have sent this box for Duke. His fingers tremble as he unfolds the letter.

Calum,

I figured you heard me tell Duke he was going to get a gift. And I knew I couldn’t not deliver on my promise to him. But I do apologize if it crosses any line. Please let me know too--if it crossed any boundaries.

I hope you’re well. Congrats on the latest album too.

With Love,

Freya.

P.S. I saw you a couple times drafting a text to me but never seeing one go through. And if you’re asking why I hadn’t sent a text either, know it was fear too. And me not being sure if keeping it open like that between us would only do more harm than good. So I’m sorry. But I am here, in the sense that to the best of my capacities, I can try to be here.

*****

Her bag’s slipping off her shoulders but she finally gets the key into the lock and gets her front door open. She sighs as she falls into the ugly blue apartment door and all but flings herself into her place. The stack of mail in her hands barely makes it to the edge of the kitchen counter too. It was just one of those days and Freya couldn’t be mad at herself. Everyone had days like this.

Putting her keys up and getting her backpack next to the couch, she settles into the stools at the kitchen counter to sort through the mail. One’s a bill from the dentist she visited a few weeks back. The one thing her student health insurance didn’t cover. But she couldn’t complain.

There are few junk flyers that she immediately tosses. And it’s her name scrawled in a almost all caps that catches her eyes before she even gets finished with the rest of the pile. In the top corner for the return address she catches the name: Calum Hood + Duke

“Mail from Duke, what a surprise.”

But the real surprise is Calum’s name. It’s just a plain white envelope with a stamp and the city mark it was mailed from. Freya pops it open and sees a sheet of legal pad paper folded up.

Freya,

Thank you for Duke’s gift. The chews are a hit. The harness is much appreciated for our walks. Though, I think they’re more like walks for me. And Duke gets a little exercise in before he tuckers out. But I don’t fault him. No lines were crossed. So no need to worry about that.

I think I like the idea of mailing letters more than I do like texting. But I understand. Doing the hard thing sucks. It always has and always will. Do what you need to for yourself.

Thank you. I wouldn’t normally do this. But there’s a couple songs--they’re about you. I wanted to give you a warning before you listen to it. If you listen to it, I guess I should say.

Best of luck with your last year of school. You’ll have that Master’s in no time and then maybe soon you can take over the Library of Congress like all your evil plans have laid out. (I know, I know. Not what your Library Studies degree does. But I still think you should.)

With Love,

Cal

Freya chuckles at the Library of Congress comment. She picks up her phone and finds Calum’s thread. It’s easy to want to tell him that she can’t take over the Library of Congress and that she’s glad the treats went over well and that the harness was really more of an accessory to make sure Duke looks like a badass.

But she knows--she knows the ease got her into a pickle before. It’s why she stopped things before they got more serious. But was fear going to always predict what she was going to do in her life? Maybe the ease of things was a sign to continue. But if what if things got too far? WOuld be able to handle Calum being gone? Would she inevitably get her heart broken? And sure no amount of contemplation can predict things like this, but she did want to play with that risk no matter how fucking easy it was in the moment.

With a frustrated sigh, Freya drops her face into the forearms. Her phone is still in her grip with the movement. “It’s never fucking easy is it!” she shouts into her apartment.

There’s silence that engulfs her but it gives no response.

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