#this episode is funny because he’s just frustrated by her doing this because he thinks so highly of her

[fluffydice]

Thinking about this again… a platonic interpretation of this event is so impactful because it reinforces the fact that Saiki is one of, if not the only person in her life (Besides my girl Chiyo… love you babygirl…) that doesn’t really want anything from Teruhashi. She’s in unfamiliar territory with trying to be a gyaru because she’s never had to really substantially change for people to like her?

Don’t get me wrong, she puts a lot of effort into maintaining her image, but there’s a strong degree of self-love in who she is as a person. Her attempts to capture Saiki’s attention are completely foreign to who she is, but she tries it anyway because honestly it’s a reasonable route for someone who sees relationships as mostly transaction-ary (I maintain my image and make people happy—people who are happy serve me and treat me the way I deserve) and has never had one be based on equality (Again… Chiyo I love you you’re the exception…).

All this to say, her brief attempts to change herself to be more likable to the guy she likes is stunningly teenage girl of her (instead of the goddess she plays at being)… and immediately shut down by Saiki. Saiki, who has respected her as actually perfect since their first genuine outing. Saiki, who always thinks of her as an equal opponent, one of the few able to catch him off guard. Saiki, who gasped when Teruhashi affirmed that she really is all that and doesn’t have to change to be appreciated—because he remembers so strongly that she’s the kind of person he really fucking admires, and can’t even deny it like he usually does with his friends.

okay something ive never said about the terusai offu because i thought it was really obvious but i just realized ive never seen anyone say this- i genuinely do not believe that the "type" saiki told aiura to tell teruhashi was his... ACTUAL romantic "type". if you get what i mean? it IS the kind of person he likes, but not necessarily romantically. like he just told aiura to say that to get teruhashi to stop trying to be gyaru.

i still believe it was a romantic moment but not in a "omg shes my type, the love of my life!!" revelation, he just... described the type of person he prefers over someone who would change their values to fit in. and teruhashi made him realize that it IS her in a way he hadnt realized... the offu wasnt a "omg im in love" moment, but a "huh. this is a new perspective i hadnt considered."

[mypoisonedvine]

𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘧𝘶𝘭 || joel miller x reader

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 || joel wasn't looking for a follower, or a protégé, or an employee— whatever you're supposed to be— when he saved some dumbass kid from a couple runners. but he ended up with you anyways, and you swore to always be faithful to him... in every way.

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 || 9.2k

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 || smut (18+ only; oral f receiving, unprotected sex, very slight dacryphilia kinda?, a touch of degradation and dumbification in there, and virginity loss with some pain and one mention of blood), heavy age gap (not specified but the reader is absolutely an adult), insecure crybaby reader, unrequited love/pining, reader wants to fuck joel so bad it makes her look stupid (and we love that for her cause same), angst, tess getting kinda screwed over but only because it's absolutely necessary for the plot, emotionally repressed joel, mention of reader's parents being deceased (implied to be infected)

this fic does not contain spoilers for anything but minor details from episode one!

They were doing that thing again— where they talked in front of you, as if you weren’t there.

“So we make the run tonight,” Tess decided, standing while Joel sat on the worn-out sofa with his hands clasped and his elbows resting on his knees.  “We should be back by four, that’s when the FEDRA boys have their shift change, so we can avoid too much risk of getting caught.”

“What should I do?” you piped up.  They both looked at you with that oh yeah, she’s here glare and Tess sighed; she didn’t try very hard to hide her frustration with you, but at the same time, she was actually nice to you when she was in a good mood (which was rare).  Joel was less mean but also less nice— he stayed steady in his neutral-to-mildly-irritated state, and you figured if he wanted you to fuck off, he would’ve said so (probably in those exact words, too).

At the same time, they both instructed you flatly: “Keep watch.”

You sighed, shoulders sinking.  “Again?  Can’t I at least—?”

“You’re safer here,” Joel insisted.

“Yeah, and your gun is safer in the box under the bed, but it’s not gonna do shit to protect you if you never take it out,” you countered.

Tess scoffed.  “And what are you gonna do to protect us?”

“I wasn’t,” you admitted.  “You know I’m a great shot, but I wasn’t gonna try to shoot anybody.  I’m quieter than both of you.  I can get in and out better— and nobody’s looking for me.  Everybody knows you’re smuggling—”

“Not everybody,” Joel defended himself in a mumble.

“ — so if I do get caught, I can probably get out of a search,” you bargained.

“And what are you gonna do to get out of a search?” Tess smirked.  “Bat your eyelashes?”

That did sting, but you rolled your eyes and hoped you had effectively looked like it didn’t affect you at all.  “If implying that I’m pretty enough to get out of a search is supposed to be an insult, I can’t wait to hear one of your compliments, Tess,” you replied��� but your voice was soft and almost shaky, not as confident as the comeback merited.  That summarized you pretty well: you had the will to be tough, but when it was time to really go for it, your body failed you and your hands got shaky and your eyes watered.  Almost anything could make you cry, Tess had already made fun of you for it; Joel just seemed to get really uncomfortable when you started crying, but you always did your best to hide it from him.  It just didn’t usually work.

Your whole face probably lit up when you caught Joel’s suppressed smile— did he think your joke was funny?  He hadn’t been smiling when Tess made fun of you, so it had to be what you said— or maybe he was thinking of something he would say if he cared enough to say it, some comment about how you could do more than that to get out of being searched.  He didn’t seem the type to make comments like that, but he was well aware what guards might let (or make) a girl do to avoid punishment.

“Whatever,” Tess decided, shaking her head, “you’re not coming with us, that’s the point.”

“Joel gets a say, too!” you blurted out.  “You can’t just pick for him that I’m not coming, he has to—”

“You’ll stay here,” he interrupted.  So much for getting Joel to let you go— you thought maybe he would side with you, for once.  Deflating, you nodded, and they stopped paying attention to you at the same time that you stopped paying attention to them.

Your mind wandered in times like this, when they were talking and it was clear that it didn’t concern you; Tess said once that you had an ‘overactive imagination’, but she hadn’t said it in a really mean way (like she said most things).  You didn’t want Joel to think that you were always daydreaming, but you couldn’t help it sometimes— you really just hoped that he didn’t know he was the subject of so many of your thoughts.

Truth was, he’d caught your eye long before he even knew you existed.  You’d seen him around, doing all those odd jobs he did to make ends meet, and thought he was… well, handsome, but not just that.  Mysterious.  Intimidating, though he didn’t exactly intimidate you— okay, he did, but not like he did everybody else.  He intimidated others because they were afraid he would hurt them; he intimidated you because you kind of wanted him to hurt you.  Not, you know, bad, just… maybe a hand around the neck or pinning you to a wall or something?

It wasn’t in spite of your inexperience that you had thoughts like that— it was because of it; you had been lonely for a long, long time, and maybe it was just fantasy, but you always wanted someone like Joel.  You wanted someone to take care of you, protect you.  You were just guessing that he was capable of that, but he proved it when you met for the first time.

It wasn’t exactly a meet-cute, or even just a pleasant way to meet; you were short on rations, because you’d given most of yours away to Mrs. Davis who was too old and weak now to earn any extra for herself, and someone offered to pay you ten if you snuck something they could sell out of the old mall in the QZ… well, that went about as poorly as anyone would’ve expected.

You asked Joel what he was doing there, after he’d saved you from the runners, but he refused to tell you.  Either way, it was the best luck you ever had that he showed up and fought them off.  For a moment, he’d held you close to him as he pulled you away from the Infected; you wished, later, that you hadn’t been too terrified to appreciate that.

Ever since, you’d sworn yourself to him— in more ways than one, but he only knew about the main one: you wanted to assist him however you could, figuring after he saved your life that you should dedicate it to his service.  Well, Joel had never been interested in your assistance, or anything else about you.  It was actually Tess' idea to let you stay: "if she wants to help, let her do it for free," she whispered to Joel, and he shrugged, and he did.  That was how it ended up like this: you were the squeaky, wobbly third wheel of Joel and Tess’ operation, more often than not doing the least important work if not filling your time with essentially goose-chase tasks they invented to keep you occupied.  Keep watch and listen to the radio were your biggest assignments; just wait here was another common one, when they were too lazy to call it one of the other two.

Tess left a little while later, and Joel laid down on the sofa.  You broke away from your thoughts and tried to make yourself useful— you got up to rinse the dishes, humming a random tune to yourself as you worked.  You were already back inside your head, wondering if you should tell Joel it was a song you’d heard on his radio and had stuck in your head ever since.  Probably not worth it; it usually didn’t go well when you tried to talk about things like that.  Joel and Tess talked about before a lot— well, it wasn't that often, because it wasn't very productive to talk about it.  But they talked about it occasionally and you never had anything to say.  Once, you tried to weigh in: they were reminiscing on concerts before the outbreak, bands and artists they remembered, and you chirped about how "I read about that in a book once!"

They both glared at you, and you didn't say anything else.  But you didn’t take it too personally, they just didn’t want to feel old— but you didn’t think either of them were old!  These days, old wasn’t a matter of years, it was really just about usefulness— like poor Mrs. Davis, she was old, she couldn’t do much for herself anymore— and they were both… actually, they were both significantly more useful than you.  That made you sad.  But at least Joel had helped you get better with guns— not that he ever let you carry one. 

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” Joel broke the silence as you washed his favorite mug.

“I know,” you said back, voice light and chipper.  “You don’t have to.”

You felt his eyes linger on you for a moment after that, but he didn’t say anything else.

~

Though they had decided already that you weren’t joining them on the run, you ended up there— mostly by happenstance— when Joel and Tess met with the buyer who wanted half of what they managed to bring back.  Not many people in the QZ could afford that kind of contraband, so it made sense that it was one of the FEDRA soldier’s bankrolling this.  They were by no means rich, but they had a lot of pull and could provide all sorts of ration cards and promises to look the other way if future issues arose.  He couldn’t guarantee safe movement out and back in through the boundaries of the city, but he at least promised to look the other way in any future run-ins with the law.

“So that’s it: you’ll leave at eleven, you’re back by four, and you bring me my share the next day during my break?” the soldier confirmed.

“Yep,” Tess agreed.  “Quick and painless.  Hopefully.”

You didn’t expect the man’s eyes to land on you, but you didn’t particularly care for it.  "Is your little lap dog coming, too?" he smirked, glancing at Joel after he was finished raking his stare over you.

Your face got hot instantly, with shame and confusion.  "I— I'm not in his lap," you denied, "that's not— we don't—"

“No,” Joel interrupted firmly, “she’s not coming.”

There was an awkward silence, the place where he might’ve said and she’s not my lap dog, if he cared much about the accusation.  Tess seemed to be hanging onto that silence nearly as tightly as you were.

“Whatever,” the soldier finally brought everyone’s attention back to the conversation, “just meet me here tomorrow at half past one, and we’ll see what you’ve got.”

You were still thinking about that conversation that night— while you were keeping watch, like Joel had asked you to.  It was really boring; you spent most of the time on the couch, reading a book you’d bought off someone for a few rations.  After a while, your curiosity got the better of you, and you started snooping around Joel’s apartment.  There wasn’t much to look at… he didn’t own much, just a few shirts— actually, you thought those jeans he always wore might be his only pair…

Your search led you to his bed.  Even with no one here to see you do it, you were a little embarrassed to lean in and take a whiff of his pillow— but it was totally worth it.  It smelled just like him, that warm piney kind of scent he had; in times like this, not many people could afford to smell nice, but Joel could.  Not to say that he was the type to splurge on all the nicest stuff, you were pretty sure he didn’t even own cologne, but he owned shampoo and deodorant, so that put him in the 80th percentile for hygiene in the Boston QZ.

But it wasn’t just those products you smelled on his sheets— there was something quintessentially Joel to it all, something impossible to define but incredibly addictive.  It was instinctual, the way you got in his bed and curled up in those sheets, burying yourself in the comfort of him.  It was so easy to imagine how he might hold you, now that you were here— all you were missing was his strength, his weight, slow and steady breaths behind you as he drifted to sleep…

You woke up when you heard the door shut.  Startled into sitting up, you were hoping you’d have time to get out of his bed before he saw you— but he was already standing there, staring at you.  He was just a shape in the dark, so you couldn’t see his face, but you heard the exasperated sigh.

“I thought I told you to sleep on the couch,” he said.

“R-right, sorry,” you coughed, recalling last time this happened with a pained wince.

“Better yet, I thought I told you to keep watch!”

“You know you just say that,” you mumbled, “so you can keep me away from the real work.”

He didn’t say anything, probably because he knew you were right— but even if he’d wanted to, he couldn’t, because Tess walked in a second later.  “Can’t believe he tried to stiff us,” she was saying as she walked in, half-laughing in frustration.  “Well, yeah I can,” she added a second later.

Her attitude changed when she saw you in the bed.  “I— I’ll go back to my—” you started, but you ended up just getting up and leaving in a hurry before you could really finish your thought.

Wiping a small tear from under your eye quickly, you walked out of Joel’s apartment and started for your own bunk across the city— even though it was more likely than not that somebody would hassle you for walking around during curfew.

Yes, if you had a little more self-respect, you would just stop hanging around those two and find some other work to do, but Joel had done something for you that you could never repay and never forget.  He didn’t have to love you the way you loved him— and you’d been sure for a while that he never would— but couldn’t he at least be a little nicer?  You wouldn’t feel right being anywhere but at his side, no matter how much he made it seem like he never wanted you there at all.

~

Honestly, you did consider not going back the next morning— but you figured they might actually need you for the next part.  Okay, not need, but they could at least use you for something: after smuggling anything in, you need a fence, someone to pawn this stuff off.  Joel and Tess did a decent job of keeping a low profile, but it was even easier to do so when they had someone like you moving contraband around Boston’s population.

So, after a few hours of sleep on that radically uncomfortable cot, you decided to head back to Joel’s place.  The sun was just above the horizon by this time, but only the people working early shifts for their rations were up now; you liked the city best when it was quiet like this, but then again, you liked almost everything better quiet.

Usually, Joel’s apartment was the same way.  But when you walked in, the energy was completely different than you were used to.  Where you’d normally find Tess counting up the score while Joel sipped on coffee (or liquor, depending most on the hour), instead you walked in on what was clearly a lover’s quarrel.

The thing was, this was not your typical argument— they were doing it Joel and Tess style, which is to say, as repressed as possible.  In fact, they weren’t even talking when you walked in, but just the way they were standing was indicative of the discomfort they were clearly trying not to acknowledge.

Tess was at the window, arms crossed, looking at the view; and you knew that was a bad sign, because there was no view to be had, the QZ was an eyesore and she complained about it all the time.  Joel was sitting at the table, facing the other way, his hand squeezing his own fist instead of the handle of his mug— it didn’t look injured, but his face still had a hint of pain on it.

“I’m sorry—” you mumbled, not sure what you were apologizing for yet, but Tess interrupted you.

“I’ll go,” she decided, walking over to the table.

“Okay,” Joel agreed, not looking at her.

Well, you were no relationship expert, and you didn’t even know what they were arguing about… but you knew that was pretty cold.  “So that’s all you’re gonna say to me?” Tess prompted him, her tone tight and her eyes red.

You kept your head low, as if that would hide the fact that you could clearly see and hear all this.  

“Yeah,” Joel decided, not as aloof as usual; it reminded you of how he usually spoke to you, that frustration, but it was definitely different.  More… exhausted.  “Yeah, it is.”

Tess put her weight predominantly on one leg, her hips shifting, as she let out a scoffing sort of breath.  For a moment, she looked at you; you looked back at her shyly from beneath your brows before looking away.  Why would she look at me right now?

Shaking her head, she left, mumbling to herself but you couldn’t make it out.  The door slammed behind her.  Joel sighed next.

“Everything okay?” you asked sheepishly, twisting your boot on the floor to watch the shapes it made in the thin layer of dust.

“Clearly,” he insisted, and the sarcasm was obvious though his voice was neutral.  You could tell he didn’t want you to prod more— anyone who knew Joel for two minutes would know that— but you still chewed your lip as you wondered what you should do.

Your attention turned to the stacks of contraband on the table; most of it was perfectly legal material to own, just not legal to acquire from outside the city’s perimeter.  “Looks like a good haul this time,” you noticed, hoping a change of subject would soothe him a little.  Maybe it did, but he didn’t show it.  He just kept squeezing his fist, and you gently sat down across from him at the table— and you started doing what you figured you should, going through what they’d brought back and starting to figure how much you could get for it.

For a while, he entertained that conversation, though with as short of responses as possible.  Not even a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’, just hums and grunts that got the point across.  You could tell he was thinking, but you could also tell he didn’t want to be— that he’d rather forget about all that.  For once, he was struggling to do that.

It scared you to imagine doing something he so obviously didn’t want you to do, but you knew you couldn’t ignore it forever.  “What made her so upset?” you asked softly, finally.

He paused for so long that you thought he was just ignoring your question, but he did eventually say something.  “She told me something I wasn’t ready to hear,” he answered, “and… and I guess I said the wrong thing.”

“What did you say?”

“Actually, I didn’t say anything,” he admitted with a thin laugh.  “But, I said nothing in the wrong way.”

"... Do you think she'll come back?" you pressed, and his sigh was answer enough.

You had to wonder if he'd make you a real partner in all this now.  Probably not, right?  He thought so little of you before, that wouldn't change just because Tess was out.

“I’m sorry,” you decided.

“It’s not your fault,” he promised.  “It was me.”

You didn’t press on that, already thankful and pleasantly surprised by how much he’d shared.  He stood up a moment later, leaving the table and moving to the kitchenette so he could make some coffee; oddly, that comforted you.  Like things were going to go forward now, like life could be normal again and he would still drink his coffee.

For a while, it was quiet— just how you liked it, and how you figured he liked it, too.  He was humming a song at one point but you didn’t think he realized he was doing it.

It was so quiet, in fact, that when you went to lay on the sofa later, you ended up accidentally dozing off.  You couldn’t say how long you were asleep— you were pretty underslept, but it didn’t feel like more than an hour— just that you were awoken to the sound of movement in the kitchen area.

Sitting up, you tilted your head when you saw Joel had begun packing up the contraband haul— well, half of it.  “What are you—?” you began to ask, but then you saw the time, and you remembered; but he answered you anyways.

“Our buyer’s on his break now,” Joel announced as he stuffed a pack of bandages into his bag.  “I said I would meet him to show him what we got.”

“I can go with you!” you announced.  “You know, if Tess isn’t—”

“It’s fine,” he insisted, “I can do it myself.”

“Joel, please,” you pressed, “I promise I’ll do whatever you need me to, I just wanna help—”

“I need you to stay here,” he frowned.

Some things never change, huh?  “Why don’t you just let me go?  Let me help you?” you whimpered, lip shaking as you started to cry.  You hated yourself for it, but you knew you couldn’t stop it.

There was a pause before he responded.  “I don’t like the way he looks at you,” Joel explained, but you doubted that was the real reason he didn’t want you to come.  “It only takes one of us, you’re better off here.”

“Tess was gonna go!” you reminded him, getting more upset.  "I know I'm not…" you trailed off as you tried not to cry too much or too loudly.  "I can't do what she can— I'm not strong…"

He sighed as he knelt down in front of you, resting his hand on your knee.  You peeked out from behind your fingers, but looked down again.

"I'm not— I'm not smart, either," you whimpered.  "I don't know anything, about before, about now—"

"That's not true," he mumbled, but you weren't finished yet.

"Nobody knows why you even keep me around, I sure don't," you shrugged, dropping your hands defeatedly, hot tears running faster down your face and dripping onto your pants; his hand reached up and wiped your cheeks with a gentleness you never knew he had.  “M’not… I’m not tough, like you guys…”

"You know what you are, little girl?" he replied quietly.  "You're good.  You're sweet.  Me an' Tess, we need someone like you to keep us from bein' sad old assholes all the time…"

He sighed, and you thought was done talking, until he spoke again, softer.

"I need someone like you."

Your heart swelled, and light filled your chest, until you had just enough confidence to finally blurt out what you'd been holding in for months: "Joel, you should know that I always—"

"Shh," he soothed, nodding.  "I know."

Your face got hot instantly again, and your heart sank.  "I think everybody knows," you mumbled awkwardly, giving him a half-smile through the drying tears.  "But I thought— it's just that you never—"

“I couldn’t,” he insisted.  “You understand that?  I couldn’t, not with you—”

“Why not?” you snapped.  “Why can’t you?”

“If you don’t know why, you’re more hopeless than I thought,” he frowned.

“I know— I know I’m… a lot younger than you…” you mumbled, almost not wanting to say it in case he actually hadn’t noticed that.  “I know you think I’m not very mature and stuff… but that shouldn’t matter when you really love someone—”

“Woah, hey,” he coughed, “love?  Sweetheart, you’ve got a crush—”

“No!  Don’t tell me how I feel,” you snapped, surprising both of you with your sudden ability to stand up to him.  “You can tell me what to do but not what to feel.”

“Okay,” he softened up, “fine.  That’s fair.  But it’ll pass—”

"I've never loved anybody before," you whimpered, "and I'm never gonna love anybody like I love you.  I know that!  I know you think I'm just a stupid kid who doesn't understand love, but I know that I really love you!  Okay?  So just… just stop talking!  Doesn’t need to take this long for you to reject me, geez…”

There was a pregnant pause, you were too caught up in your own frustration to really notice it: the way he looked to the side, chewing on the inside of his cheek for a moment.  You weren’t expecting him to say anything after that, so it nearly startled you when he spoke.  “It was last night, after you left,” he explained.  “I— I thought about telling you to come back, figured you’d be safer on the couch than walking back across the city at that time…”

Wrapping your arms around your chest, you smiled a little imagining that, but you knew you couldn’t have taken him up on that offer: it would’ve killed you, trying to sleep on that sofa while Joel and Tess shared the bed.

“She told me not to,” Joel continued.  “That’s… that’s how it started, I guess…”

“That girl’s so obsessed with you,” Tess laughed lightly, toying with Joel’s lapel.  “It’s cute, really.  I mean, it’s sad— but it’s cute.”

“Hm,” Joel said first, not really listening— it took him a second to properly react.  “Why is it sad?” he asked when her words processed completely.

“‘Cause she thinks she might actually have a chance,” Tess explained.

That was it, what he did wrong; he sees it now, in retrospect, but at the time he figured saying nothing was his safest bet.  Apparently, he didn’t have to say anything.

“Shit,” Tess said suddenly, moving instantly from shock to anger.  “Are you fucking serious?”

“What?” Joel spat.

“You know fucking what,” she returned sharply.  “That look— you looked away.”

“Okay?  So?” Joel tried to defend himself, but he knew that she knew now— believe it or not, he really wasn’t much of a liar.  Especially with her.

“She’s a goddamn fetus, Joel,” Tess reminded him.  “She hasn’t seen a hundredth of the shit we’ve seen, she hasn’t lost anyone—”

“Lost her parents,” Joel corrected.

“Well, we all lose our parents,” Tess rolled her eyes, “that’s part of life.”

Not the way she lost them, Joel wanted to add, but he was going back to his original plan of saying nothing.

“She’s not like us,” Tess insisted.

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” Joel decided.

That was the point of no return; because Tess had never thought of you as competition, she barely even thought of you at all, but if innocence was something he wanted… then the competition was already over before it even started.  The silence was heavy, more sad than angry, and Joel knew he really fucked up because he’d never really seen Tess speechless before.  Is it bad that he didn’t regret it, though?  Maybe he could’ve handled things better, but telling her the truth couldn’t be wrong.  It’s not like he’d been hiding it, really— he never even acknowledged it himself, not often.

“I can’t believe you,” she shook her head, and shame twisted in his gut.  “Part of me always— not always, I guess, but part of me wondered.  Sometimes the way you looked at her…”

As she trailed off, Joel looked down, too afraid for her to look in his eyes now.

“You’d do anything to keep her safe,” she said instead of finishing that last thought.  “I told myself you didn’t look at me like that because you knew I could protect myself.”

“I do,” he promised.

“So what do you want?” she asked point-blank.  “Something you can protect, or something you don’t have to?”

“And what did you say?” you asked hurriedly.

“I told her what I wanted,” was all he replied, and your heart skipped.  “And that’s… that’s why she left.”

Joel nodded slightly, looking away.  But you reached out and touched his face, turning it back towards you.  Impulsively, you leaned forward and kissed him; it took all the courage you had, and a hand on his shoulder for balance, but you felt him kiss you back after a moment.  It was gentle, for how sudden it was, and you sighed as his hand moved higher up your leg.  

You were still crying, because of course you were, but he didn’t mind as much as you’d worried: he only wiped your tears away, holding onto your face, standing up and pulling you with him.

“I love you,” you whispered as he embraced you, wanting to say it a thousand times now that it wasn’t the worst-kept secret in Boston.  “I love you, Joel—”

“I know,” he promised, whispering back into the kiss which got deeper with each passing moment.  “I know, darlin’.”

That was enough for you— that was plenty: the way he kissed you, and held you, calling you darlin’ in that rough-yet-gentle voice… you were weak already, melting into his touch, ready to give him anything.

In fact, he had to put a hand on your shoulder and gently push you away to get you to calm down, and your face heated up as you realized how eager you’d been.  “Don’t need to get so worked up, m’gonna take care of you now, okay?”

“You always take care of me,” you noticed.

“A different way,” he explained.

Just the way those brown eyes darkened, just the way he said that made your thighs clench against each other.  “Y-you’ll miss the meeting with the buyer,” you realized.

“Fuck,” Joel grumbled, and you smiled a bit.  “Waited this long and now I’ve gotta fuckin’ leave you again.”

Your hand rested on his chest, the soft flannel of his shirt transmitting some of the warmth of his body, and you looked up with him with wide, wet eyes.

“I know you hate waitin’ here, but… I always liked it,” he admitted, his voice softer yet deeper.  “I always liked knowing you were here, waiting for me…”

Your heart swelled.  “Y-yeah— I didn’t mind waiting for you so much,” you admitted in return, “just didn’t want you to think that’s all I was good for.”

He kissed your temple, making your chest flood with warmth.  “I know,” he promised.  “You’ll be here when I get back, won’tcha?  Can’t disappear on me now.”

“I won’t, I’ll be here,” you assured, turning your face to peck his cheek in return.  It seemed to surprise him, like he hadn’t had tenderness of that sort in a long time.

~

Funny how you’d waited for him all night before, but that half hour felt longer than all of them combined.  You were quite sure you knew what he meant before— about how he would take care of you in a different way— and it put you on edge all afternoon.

You couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d kissed you, about his hands pulling you closer.  Or his eyes: if he’d ever looked at you like that before, you hadn’t noticed (which was probably what he intended).  

For how much time you spent wondering what you would do, what you would say, when he returned, you ended up not doing much of either: he was on you the moment he stepped in the door, though that was sort of what you’d been betting on when you decided to strip down to just your underwear and wait for him like that.  Not that you minded the idea of him, you know, tearing your clothes off like one of those romance novels— you just didn’t like the idea of having to wait any longer than you already had and this shirt had way too many buttons.

He did take a moment to stare you down when he came back, to appreciate your nakedness, and despite imagining showing yourself to him many times before, you felt a little self-conscious with his eyes just piercing through you like that: you didn’t cover yourself, ignoring a slight instinct to do so, but you did wrap your arms over your stomach and cross your legs as you sat on his bed.

Waiting for him to say something— or, possibly, waiting for yourself to find some courage to speak— you were a little taken aback when he grabbed you and kissed you.  And you realized, as his lips moved with yours even harder, deeper, needier than before, that there was nothing else to say.

He climbed on top of you on that bed, laid you down on it gently, as his weight pressed you down into the mattress.  You could've sworn you heard him growl when he rocked his hips against yours, a firm bulge in his jeans pressing right up to where heat had gathered between your legs.

Fingers weaving in his hair, you hummed as you did all you could to keep him close, as if he might just disappear if you didn’t hold him near to you.  But he didn’t seem like much of a flight risk, considering his tight grip on you— so tight it could leave marks, which you hoped it would.  You needed more than just memories of this.

“Tell me this is what you want,” he demanded, his voice breathless yet somehow not weak at all.  “Need to know you want this.”

“Fuck, Joel, f’course,” you promised— wasn’t it obvious?  It probably was.  But you could understand if he was still fighting back some guilt; you just wanted to do everything you could to help him forget about that.  “So bad,” you continued, “for so long…”

“Since I saved you?” he assumed, his teeth grazing your lip like a threat to bite down harder— a threat that made you throb from the inside out.

“Before,” you admitted, smiling sheepishly.  

“Didn’t even know me before,” he noticed, raising an eyebrow.

“Saw you around sometimes—” god, am I blushing as hard as it feels like I am? — “thought maybe you could… you know…”

Protect me.  Hold me.  Take care of me.  And fuck me like the world is ending even though it already did.

He smirked at you proudly, leaning in to kiss your neck this time, following some invisible trail that made you even more sensitive to the touch of his lips; after he kissed right under your ear, he whispered to you.

“Then just go ahead and take what you want, darlin’.”

After a shiver ran over you, so strong you thought it might never end, your hands shot down between you so you could get to work on his belt and fly; you felt his smile against your skin, then his teeth a moment later, as his hand rubbed the curve of your waist gently.

Both of you gasped when your fingers wrapped gently around his cock, for different reasons.  The skin was so smooth, it was hard to believe something this soft and silky was part of Joel— and it was hot, or maybe your fingers were just cold, but you hoped that didn't bother him.

He was already starting to move his hips just a bit, rocking into your touch, and you hummed when he suddenly grabbed your hand to force it to press firmer against himself.  "You thought about touchin' me like this before?" he asked in a voice that was breathy and low— you loved hearing the pleasure in his voice.

"Y-yeah," you admitted shyly; when he let your hand go, your touch wandered, your hands sliding up under the bottom of his shirt so you could feel the skin there— the firm muscle, the thin scars, the graying hairs that formed a trail down his stomach…

Grabbing your wrists, he pinned them down above your head, and you let out a joyful whine.  "Keep those there," he ordered, and you nodded as you watched him intently.

His hands traced down your body, making shivers run all over your skin; how could a man with so much strength touch you so delicately?

He purred as his fingers ran down to your panties, toying with the edge of the fabric before carefully pulling them down your legs.  You tried not to wiggle too much, but your hips were desperate for some friction, for some attention from him— they didn't have to wait long, though.  He groaned at the sight as he parted your legs, grabbing himself to rub his fat head through your folds.  "Fuck," he mumbled, your channel clenching on nothing as you saw how far apart his tip forced your swollen lips, "so wet for me already, bet I'll slide right in…"

Your back arched with a moan just imagining that, and he pushed your stomach down flat with his free hand so you wouldn't angle too far away from him, laying his body atop yours.  Though you tried to stay still, you couldn’t stop shaking as he lined himself up; it felt surreal, it felt hyperreal— his skin against yours was unlike anything you could’ve imagined.

You’d sort of wondered if he’d say something before he put it in, maybe a quick you ready? or even here it comes which would’ve been stupid but an appreciated warning nonetheless.  Instead, he just looked at your face carefully, and pushed inside.  It was sudden, sharp; your whole body tensed up and you sucked in a breath before biting your lip.

He only made it halfway in, struggling against how tight you were.  You were doing everything you could not to give away your pain, but he must've seen it in your expression.

"What's wrong?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.  "I'm hurting you…"

"No— Joel, please don't stop—"

You wrapped your legs around his hips to try to keep him inside, but he pulled out most of the way and looked down— and you winced when he saw the blood.  "Baby, you… are you— is this your—?  Fuck, why didn't you say something?"

"You wouldn't have done it with me if you knew it was my first time," you explained with a whimper.

"No, baby— I just would've taken my time with you, s'all," he sighed, "would've helped you— sweetie, it didn't need to hurt like that…"

Clutching tighter at his shirt, you pulled him down into a needy kiss. "Hurt me more, Joel," you pleaded into it with a breathy whisper, "do whatever you want to me.  I'm yours— that's all I want, just to be yours."

He kissed you back, slow but passionate; but, much to your dismay, he pulled out and sat up.

"No, Joel, I'm sorry," you whined, "I'm sorry— I didn't mean to lie, I'm so sorry, I promise I can be good!  M'gonna be really good for you!"

But he just shook his head, and you bit your quivering lip as tears ran down your temples.  He smiled, just a little.  "Such a crybaby," he scolded you softly.  "What am I gonna do with you, little girl?  You can't even keep yourself together."

He leaned down again, but he slid his knees down on the bed so he could position his face between your legs.  He kissed your inner thigh first, and you jumped because it tickled.

Then he held your hips, running his thumbs over your skin soothingly, and you tried not to squirm too much as he looked up at you with those dark eyes— much darker than before.  “You want me to taste you?” he asked, like it was your idea or something.

“Uh, yeah,” you mumbled sheepishly, and he actually laughed for a moment.  

“Yeah?” he repeated.  “Could you be a little more specific?”

Oh— he wants me to beg.  “Um— please?  Taste me, Joel…”

He smiled, but not like a haha funny smile or an oh that’s nice smile— a really dirty kind of smile, even though his teeth were actually in better condition than most out here.  “Okay, baby,” he agreed.

He was subtle about it at first, just giving gentle kisses all around; you felt… exposed, even more than you had with his face between your legs before.

“Is that alright?” he asked, his voice rougher than the last time you heard it.

“Y-yeah,” you choked, clearing your throat.  “Don’t… don’t stop, please…”

When he got back to it, he was much more aggressive— long, slow licks between your lips, sloppy kisses with his eyes shut tight; and you whined as you held on tighter to the sheets.  You didn’t realize how hard you were shaking until his grip on your thighs was bruisingly tight.  And as he held you down, he just dug in deeper: every time you thought he’d stop escalating the intensity of it all, he just did it more— he just did everything more— until you couldn’t control your moans and gasps anymore.

His tongue was the fucking devil; he slid it inside you and your eyes rolled back.  He sucked greedily on your clit until your hips bucked uncontrollably, moaning against your skin just enough that you could hear it over your own shameless cries.

"Joel, fuck, how are you—?  Oh god—"

"Mm?" he encouraged you to finish your thought without breaking away from you.

"How does that feel so good?" you sobbed.  "Oh my god— please don't stop, never stop, oh fuck!"

All he was doing was flicking his tongue over your bud, such a small interaction with a tiny little organ, and your whole body was shaking.  Reaching down and grabbing his hair, you didn't mean to tug on it so hard but you also didn't expect him to moan deeply when you did.  

His mouth moved a little higher, focusing on the bud you were sure had never been this swollen or this sensitive.  Doing so freed your opening, and one of his thick fingers prodded at it.  "Please," you panted, wanting any part of him to be inside you again.

He pushed it in, the roughness of his skin creating the perfect friction on your delicate walls.  You were waiting to feel his knuckle against you, but instead he only put it in maybe halfway, not very far at all.  It didn’t make much sense to you, until he started to rub one place just inside and a gasp instantly inflated your chest.

“Oh—” you choked, and he was licking harder on your clit at the same time that he added a second finger; you’d never felt anything like it before.  “Joel!” you squealed, hating how girlish it sounded but helpless to the control he had over your body with just two fingers and his tongue.

His rhythm wasn’t all that fast but it was relentless, the exact tempo you needed for that pleasure to build and build, toes curling and vision getting all spotty— you tried to look down at him sometimes, but your head wanted so badly to tilt back and let everything go black.

“I— oh, fuck— I’m gonna— fuck, Joel!” you sobbed, grabbing on tighter to his hair; you took one glimpse at it, and when you saw the scattered silver hairs peeking out from between your fingers, it just made you even more overwhelmed.

He hummed and looked up at you, encouraging you— his fingers pumped faster and faster suddenly, and when it hit, you felt like your whole body was going numb.  It started where he was touching you, but then a moment later it was in your head, then it was just running all over and you were too weak to do anything but give into it.

Suddenly it became too much, and the hand that had been holding him down by his hair was suddenly pushing him away; you blinked away the spots in your vision to catch a glimpse of him with that beard soaked in you, but his fingers hadn’t stopped yet.  “Oh… ohhh my god…” you whined, breathing harder than you could ever remember breathing before, your head getting all dizzy and cloudy as he smirked up at you and continued fucking you with his hand.

Your hole was pulsing, flexing over and over, waves of slick leaking out until you could feel the puddle spreading under you.  Your cheeks burned with humiliation, even though he kept praising you as his fingers milked everything from your swollen spot.  "Good girl, good girl," he said over and over, "fuck, good job, soak the sheets, baby— soak my fingers, keep going…"

"Joel," you sobbed, desperate for some relief from the overwhelming sensation.  He didn't really stop, just slowed down a lot, but he kept twisting his fingers and rubbing that one place until your quivering body collapsed completely onto his mattress.  And then he went on for just a little bit longer after that.

Then he stopped.  When you thought you might fucking pass out.

He climbed up your body and brought his two soaked fingers to your slack lips.  

"You want a taste, too, baby?" he purred.

You dutifully opened your mouth and did your best to clean his fingers off, sucking and licking as he hummed a bit; his eyes got a little darker as he felt your tongue run all over his rough fingers.

"What do you think?" he prompted when he pulled his fingers away, and you swallowed as you made a little face.

"I dunno if I like it," you admitted nervously.  "Kinda sour."

"Really?  I think your pussy's fuckin' delicious."

Your face flushed, but you didn't say anything else because he was reaching down to hold his cock again— and your heart started racing.

"Ready to do this the right way?" he prompted, and you nodded eagerly.  "S'gonna feel so much better, now you're all ready for me.  Ready for something this big inside ya— but it might still sting at first, okay?  Just hold onto me tight."

That you did, tighter than you thought you could— apparently you were stronger than you realized, especially considering that orgasm nearly took you out a minute ago.  But you had to hold on that tight as he began to push that fat head inside you, stretching you so wide before he'd even gotten the ridge of it past your opening.  It didn't sting like before, or at least not as much, but it was still completely overwhelming.  You forgot to breathe until he was halfway in: you gasped out his name, reminding yourself he was inside you and above you and everywhere, everything.

"See how much— fuck— how much easier it is now?" he grunted, sliding into you slowly until his hips met yours.  "See how you're takin' all'a me?  God damn, still tight as hell, though."

You were delirious already, he hadn't even moved yet.  You didn't think it could get much better than his mouth on you, than coming because of him, but this?  This perfect stretch, this addictive friction, knowing he was completely inside you and that he liked how you felt?  This was ecstasy, bliss.  And he hadn't even fucking moved yet.

"Gonna have a hard time being gentle with you now," he admitted with a growl beside your ear.  "You've got one of those perfect little pussies that just needs to be fucked hard— suckin' me in, just beggin' for it rough and fast."

"Joel," you whined, "fuck me however you want, please… I can take it, I swear, I want you so bad…"

Still, when he moved, it was slow and patient.  Too goddamn slow.

"Fuck," you sobbed, back arching up off the bed as he carefully savored every detail of you.  "Fuck, Joel, I can't— I can't believe you're— I can't believe it's you.  I wanted you so much I couldn't fucking breathe."

He smiled at you, and leaned in to kiss your neck; you let out what could only be described as a joyful whimper.  “Wanted you too,” he finally admitted.  “Tried not to, you’re so young… jus’ couldn’t help it after a while.”

"Faster," you whined, "please, fuck, please please—"

"You are so goddamn spoiled, you know that?" Joel grunted— but then he did it, he fucked you even faster than you'd imagined.  His thrusts were still deep and long, but they came at you quicker than you could process and you nearly screamed.  

You were even more sensitive after he’d made you come the first time; it was just overwhelming, the feeling of him, and you felt like your mind had left your body— like your mind had left you entirely.

“Y’feel fuckin’ perfect, darlin’,” he praised lowly, kissing your neck with all the gentleness and patience his thrusts lacked.  “So good for me.”

Maybe it was pathetic, but being good for him felt fucking amazing— not just physically, obviously.  It felt like having a purpose; you’d never really felt that before.

You lost track of time; honestly, you lost track of everything.  Everything that wasn’t this had fallen away, and it was just you holding on for dear life as Joel wrecked you all over again with every motion.  "Hear that?  How wet you are for me?" he groaned, and yes, there was a squishy-wet sound that filled the room with each thrust.  You tried to answer him, say something witty about how he made you that wet so many times, but only moans came when you opened your mouth.  "I asked you a question," he reminded you.  "Can you fuckin' hear it?"

Whimpering, you could only bite your lip and nod.

"Oh," he smiled, "I see— you get stupid with cock in you, huh?  Get fucked right and that silly brain just turns off?"

You nodded again— wasn’t much else for you to do.

"Just gonna be a dumb whore for me now?" he asked.  "Just kidding, I know you already were."

“Fuck— Joel—” you choked.

"No no, it's okay— it's good,” he soothed you, kissing a tear from your temple that you hadn’t even realized was there.  “You don't need to think.  I don't need you to think.  You can just be my fucktoy, okay?  You can just be my slut.  Say it."

"I-I'm your slut, Joel…"

He hummed appreciatively; your moan caught in your throat, and you tried to hide your face in his shoulder— you couldn’t believe he was still dressed, for all you knew he still had his boots on, and meanwhile you were stripped of everything.  Not just your clothes: you were stripped of all pretense (didn’t need it) and dignity (didn’t want it).  You’d thought of yourself as his for quite some time now, but now that he’d really made you his, it was more than you could’ve imagined.

When you came with him inside you, it wasn’t like how it was before— definitely similar, obviously the same thing at the core of it, but very different.  Before it was so… sudden, like a firework going off and then glittering into darkness (at least, that was how you understood fireworks to be, you’d only ever had them explained to you).  This was more like a deep pressure that just built and built and built, and then at some point you’d crossed that threshold and you were there but it didn’t go away, it just stayed at the peak while he kept moving inside you.

He grunted as your walls beared down on him, watching the tears of ecstasy stream down your face.  “Tryin’ to milk my cock, huh?” he accused with a snarl to his tone.  “S’that what you want?”

You weren’t really paying attention, you couldn’t while he was fucking you like that.  Digging your fingers into his shoulders through the flannel shirt, you just whimpered and nodded.

“S’workin’, baby,” he smiled, “little pussy’s got me so tight— is it a little too much, honey?  You’re cryin’...”

“I— I always cry,” you sniffled.

“M’not gonna make you take too much more,” he promised, “doin’ so good honey— gonna let you rest soon—”

“No, d-don’t stop,” you begged, and he laughed a little.

“I’m close,” he explained, and even though that should’ve been obvious, it made you feel better.  “Normally takes me a little longer, but… never had a pussy like this.”

That was probably just flattery, but you were happy to believe it.  Happy enough to just lay back and let that pleasure wash over you, but of course, he expected more of you than that.

"Tell me where I can come," he ordered.  

"Fuck, Joel— anywhere you want, anywhere," you pleaded, struggling to keep your train of thought but desperate to appease him as best you could.

"Inside you?" he pressed.

"Yeah, fuck, anywhere," you insisted.

"I bet that's what you want— you want it inside.  You want this cunt full and dripping."

“Fuck— yeah,” you agreed, “s’what I want— please, please—”

“Shh, don’t need to beg,” he assured sweetly, kissing your neck again— burying his face in the crook of your shoulder, until his panting breaths echoed on your skin.  “Don’t need to beg, darlin’, gonna fill you nice and deep—”

“Please,” you said again, ignoring his assurances.

“Just like you need it—”

“Please, Joel— love you so much,” you sobbed, your thighs starting to go a little numb where his jeans were rubbing against them and your clit getting sore from the way he stayed deep inside and grinded himself against you.

“I know,” he promised again, “jus’ say it one more time.”

“I love you, Joel,” you cried, and it was over somewhat suddenly: he stayed still, and you could feel his grip on you tighten, and you heard that sound that was like a groan and a sigh at the same time.  You’d hoped you’d be able to really feel it inside you, the warmth of his come, but everything was so hot that it was all the same— what you did feel was full, even more than you had just from his cock in you, and it was enough to make you clutch at his shoulders again despite having almost no energy left in you.

Though he stayed inside for a little while after, he did eventually have to pull out; you were too exhausted to even think about trying to close your legs when he stared down at you— at his come leaking slowly from your hole.

You knew there would need to be a conversation soon about what this all meant— what should happen now with the business, with your relationship, even just what should happen tomorrow morning since you’d both given in to instinct rather than take the safer route and have Joel pull out…

But that would have to wait; you still couldn’t think straight, you couldn’t think about anything but him in fact.

Thankfully, Joel was just fine with the silence.  He just held you, let you wander between sleep and wakefulness, and wiped that last stray tear away from your face.

“I’m sorry I keep crying,” you offered quietly, breaking a long silence.

“I don’t mind,” he promised.

[imthepunchlord]

I think that the main problem with Marinette is that she always gets blamed for minor things, but her bigger mistakes are ignored.

She also gets blamed for things that aren't her fault. Like Reverser I blame Nathaniel and his extreme expectations, and Refleckdoll, it was Alya who was making things worse for Juleka while Marinette was trying to help. Gamer's another as she did play fair and square, and won fair and square.

But yeah, ML has an issue with priorities. With the mindset that ONLY Marinette can be at fault, which has her at fault for things that actually aren't her fault or are minor things when there are bigger faults with others; and that, for Marinette's actual faults and issues, they don't focus on the actual problems.

For one thing, Marinette is a perfectionist, in her work and responsibilities, and in how she helps people. This leads to her being meddling and controlling. With good intentions but she can take it far. She even has this idea that only she can be the solution, though more in an Atlas complex way than being egotistical.

Which I'll give the show this, by how it's set up, Adrien and Marinette kinda feed this bad aspect of their dynamic into each other. Adrien goofs around as a hero or doesn't take situations seriously with his flirting at bad times, so Marinette feels like she has to step up more as leader and responsible one, and Adrien doesn't get a chance to take things more seriously or be the leader as Marinette doesn't expect him to, which leads to his frustration of not being as valued as a partner like he wants and he acts out, and Marinette sees she can't rely on him as much and it just cycles.

I know the show sorta tries to address this with the insistence that Marinette can trust Alya and doesn't need to shoulder everything, which is great, if they didn't take it back right away validating Marinette in being right in not trusting Alya.

Which man, that's one of Marinette's actual big issues, and you address it, and then take two steps back and reverse and vindicate the flawful mindset.

Another big issue is her over involving herself in this she doesn't or shouldn't get involved with, meddling included. She could do to ease back, let others solve their own problems. Like, Darkblade comes to mind (though there may be a better example). I do think it was a good episode, but you got Marinette admitting she's already busy, and doesn't want to be class rep, but steps up as no one else is. This is just an added responsibility she doesn't need but does so because she's involving herself in others problems.

This also leads into the other issue: Marinette's tendency to overpile onto her plate. They even focused on this in Gamer 2.0 but instead of doing a lesson of learning to ease up, take a break, and have fun (which Adrien could've been great for, heck, could've had them bond over a busy lifestyle); but nope, she passes Max off to her parents and continue being busy.

And of course, there's the big issue of her crush.

Like, they're 13-14 yos dealing with first crushes, they're going to be cringe and crazy as they don't know how to handle this, but they just take it way too far. And the extremes it's taken isn't even funny but concerning.

Marinette having his schedule.

The hoard of pictures.

Jealousy that spirals to extremes.

And having rose colored view of Adrien, to thinking he can never do wrong and feeling like she needs to protect and assist him, even at the risk of herself (Collector).

Part of the worst part about this is that this exists for the writers' amusement, taking it to unlikable extremes and not portrayed as really bad flaws that need to be addressed or have lessons about; which leads me to question what's the exaggeration and what can be more accurate/reasonable for the cringey, dramatic crush. Some of which could've been fine issues to fault her for and for her to get called out and learn from, but we don't get that, all we get is unpleasantness.

Oh! You could also cover Marinette's lack of prioritizing herself, and may not knowing how to take a break and have fun. Cause I don't know if this girl knows how to relax. And she definitely doesn't behave like a kid, but much older. Could even delve into the friendship problems she has not really connecting with her friends as well because she doesn't know how to be a kid, how to mess around and goof off.

Marinette has a good number of issues and flaws that can be addressed and worked with, but they pick the wrong ones to focus on.

[zutarawasrobbed]

ALTA Live Action Season 1 Initial Thoughts (Spoilers)

I just finished the season, and holy shit!

Quick things that need to be addressed/debunked:

“Sokka is no longer sexist”

I dont know what people were talking about when they talked about Sokka’s “sexism” being removed. It’s still there! But not in the overly exaggerated comical way it was in the original.

In fact, it’s more in line with ancient practices of indigenous tribes where men are seen as protectors and providers while women are expected to nurture. It’s not the same “boys are better than girls” narrative in the original.

Additionally, Suki still beats the fuck out of Sokka and humbled him really quick. They’re super cute by the way. And I love Suki’s “I like my men a little stupid” vibe. She’s great.

“Aang doesn’t run away like the original!”

That is not true. He does run away, but not because he’s trying to get away from the temple but instead to get some air because he feels overwhelmed. He’s more like taking a quick break and planning to come back. It’s not exactly the same, but almost. It also is done in a way where his guilt feels more justified.

“Katara doesn’t talk about her mom anymore like the original”

This is true… BECAUSE THEY SHOW INSTEAD OF TELL. I was honestly not prepared to see the death Kya in such graphic detail and how Katara was in the room hiding when it happened. It’s honestly really sad and more heartbreaking.

Plot:

The timeline seems to be ambiguous compared to the original series where it was “end of current year.” In fact, they repeat “three years” a few times, which makes me think if the series get greenlit for more seasons, it would be over a three year period.

Jet is still villainized but given more nuance and not a simple "good v bad" way like the original.

Zuko’s story about how he got his scar has additional lore that makes him come across as even more selfless and compassionate. The additional context of the platoon he advocated for in the war meeting, becoming his current crew, really added to the story.

Eradicated the nepotism baby plot point with Pakku only training Katara when he finds out he used to date her grandma. Instead, Katara proves herself and ends up teaching the other male fighters the techniques she learned from watching other benders use their elements and mimics them.

This season doesn’t have Aang learning any waterbending, but rather facing his trauma and the consequences of his actions. He get roasted by all his past lives. Which is an interesting choice, but I think it works well in how they executed it.

This season seems to actually be Katara focused and her journey of learning waterbending which I honestly loved because it really hits home the element of “water” being the story of an untrained waterbender learning her element. But, I do think Aang could’ve learned a little bending. It felt a little off.

Katara ends up advocating for all waterbending women and ends up leading an army of both men and women during the siege. She’s really bad ass and is given the title of master without being formally trained by Pakku. She made herself a master.

I think the timeline is a little wonky because of how much they had to fit in with the limited episodes they had.

Kuruk is given respect! I loved that.

June actually seems into Iroh which I thought was a funny but cool way to flip the script from the original.

The relationship between Zuko and Iroh is really beautifully executed. I love the depth they added with flashback scenes and their bond prior to the Agni Kai. It also wasn’t as frustrating watching Iroh and Zuko’s dynamic because Iroh communicated with Zuko in a way he could understand with straight answers rather than seeming to actively sabotage him with cryptic puns and shenanigans like the original.

They changed the love triangle with Yue Hahn and Sokka to be very healthy. They gave Yue autonomy and a choice in her relationship- which- again- is much more in line with indigenous cultures. Also, Hahn and Sokka’s relationship is really supportive and full of respect and no ill will.

They way they handled grief and the realities of war with the loss of life was very well done and really drove home the point that this is a war and these are child soldiers.

There’s a lot more but these are my initial thoughts. Will probably post more later.

Shipping:

Kataang is all but removed. Literally DOA. There is no indication of a crust on either side. It’s painted like a sibling relationship, which is like the original, but this time everyone seems to be on the same page. But, I swear the writers had to have read ZK fics because damn.

They canonized a popular Zutara theory/hc about the cave of two lovers and how the crystals would light up once it went completely dark instead of a “kiss” activating the crystal glow.

Speaking of the Cave of two lovers. They keep the Oma and Shu story with red and blue coloring. Making it come across more as foreshadowing than a direct link to the present tunnel story.

Sokka is put in Aang’s place with Katara in the tunnels and turned it into a story about the love of family and sibling bonds. Aang wasn’t even present.

Zuko and Katara share a meaningful look when they first see each other and continue to have a Katara centric scene followed by a Zuko centric scene and vice versa.

The scarf scene. I will not be elaborating further. If you know, you know.

Zuko and Katara fight scene in the North is epic. He still taunts her with almost the exact same dialogue but it’s so sassy- I love the banter.

Suki and Sokka were really cute and the actors had great chemistry. I think Yue and Sokka was really rushed and didn’t really feel anything about them, honestly. But I attribute that to lack of episodes to develop all that plot.

[sapphic-agent]

Let's Talk About How Book 3 Ruined Aang

If you've seen any of my prior ATLA posts, you know that I don't hate Aang. In fact, I quite liked him in Books 1 and 2. He was flawed, as all characters should be, but the show didn't shy away from those flaws or justify them. He was called out for burning Katara and rushing his firebending, Sokka and Katara were rightfully upset when he hid Hakoda's letter, he willingly owns up to the fact that his actions helped drive Toph away, and his entire arc after losing Appa and finding hope again in The Serpent's Path was beautifully done.

(Hell, even in The Great Divide Katara says what Aang did was wrong and he agrees. It's played for comedy, but the show still makes the effort to point out that what he did wasn't the right thing to do. You're just meant to understand that he was fed up and acted off of that)

Those flaws and mistakes were addressed and improved upon and helped Aang to grow as a character.

But for some reason, that aspect of Aang's character was completely flipped in Book 3.

The best examples of this are in both TDBS and EIP. Both the show and the fandom are too quick to brush off that Aang kissed Katara twice without her consent, one of which after she explicitly said she was confused about her feelings.

(And yes, she is angry in response and Aang calls himself an idiot. But after this, it isn't really addressed. They go on like nothing happened for the rest of the episode. Aang's lamentation comes from screwing things up with her romantically, not that he violated boundaries)

The show never really addressed why what he did was wrong. Not only because he wasn't given consent, but also because both times he isn't thinking about what Katara wants. In both instances, Aang is only thinking about himself and his feelings. This is something that persists through a lot of the third book. And by Sozin's Comet it ultimately ruins any character development he had built up in the second book.

One thing I feel was completely disregarded was the concept of having to let go of Katara in order to master the Avatar State.

For me, the implication wasn't that he had to give up love or happiness necessarily. He was emotionally attached to and reliant on Katara, to the point where she was needed to stop him from hurting everyone around him and himself. This is obviously detrimental to his functionality as the Avatar. And the point of him "letting her go" wasn't that he had to stop caring about her, it was that his emotional dependency on her was stopping him from being the Avatar he needed to be and that was what needed to be fixed. I don't even think it's about the Avatar State itself, it's about being able to keep your emotions and duty as the Avatar separate.

(If you look at Roku, he loved and had a wife. It wasn't his love for her that messed everything up, it was his attachment to Sozin. He wasn't able to let Sozin go and not only did he lose his life for it, the world suffered for it. It's the unhealthy attachments that seem to be detrimental, not love itself)

And Aang realizes that in the catacombs, which is how he's able to easily enter the Avatar State and seemingly control it. He let Katara go.

So then why does it seem like his attachment to Katara is not only stronger, but worse in mannerism? He liked Katara in Books 1 and 2- obviously- but he was never overly jealous of Jet or Haru. He only makes one harmless comment in Book 2 when Sokka suggests Katara kiss Jet.

But suddenly he's insanely jealous of Zuko (to the point of getting frustrated with Katara over it), off the basis of the actions of actors in a clearly misrepresentative play. Katara showed a lot more interest in Jet and Aang was completely fine with it.

(Speaking of EIP, Aang's reaction to being played by a woman was interesting. He wore a flower crown in The Cave of Two Lovers. He wove Katara a flower necklace. He wore Kyoshi's clothes and makeup and made a funny girl voice. He willingly responded to Twinkle Toes and had no issue being called that. And for some reason he's genuinely upset about being played by a woman? Aang in Books 1 and 2 would have laughed and enjoyed the show like Toph did. His aversion to feminity felt vastly out of character)

I guess my point is, why did that change? Why was Aang letting go of Katara suddenly irrelevant to the Avatar State? It felt like him letting go was supposed to be a major part of his development. Why did that stop?

Myself and many others have talked about The Southern Raiders. The jist of my thought process about it is his assumption that he knew what was best for Katara. And the episode doesn't really call out why he was wrong. Maybe sparing Yon Rha was better for Katara, maybe it wasn't (the only one who's allowed to make that choice is her). Pushing forgiveness? That was wrong. But the episode has Zuko say that Aang was right when the course of action Katara took wasn't what Aang suggested.

Katara's lesson here was that killing him wouldn't bring back her mother or mend the pain she was going through and that Yon Rha wasn't worth the effort. That's what she realizes. Not that she needed to embrace forgiveness. How could she ever forgive that? The episode saying Aang was right wasn't true. Yes she forgives Zuko, but that wasn't what Aang was talking about. He was specifically talking about Yon Rha.

And that was wrong. Aang can choose the path of forgiveness, that's fine. That's his choice. But dismissing Katara's trauma in favor of his morals and upbringing wasn't okay.

I know it sounds like this is just bashing Kataang. But it's not simply because I don't like Kataang, in my opinion it brings down Aang's character too, not just Katara's. But let's steer away from Kataang and Katara for a minute.

The one thing that solidifies Aang's character being ruined in Book 3 for me is the fact that he- at the end of the story- does the same thing he did in the beginning.

He runs away when things get hard.

Aang couldn't make the choice between his duty and his morals. So he ran. Maybe it wasn't intentional, but subconsciously he wanted an out. And this is really disappointing when one of the things he was firm about in Book 2 was not running anymore. His character went backwards here and that's not even getting into the real issue in Sozin's Comet.

There's been contention about the Lion Turtle intervention. For many- including myself- it's very deus ex machina to save Aang from having to make a hard decision. And that in turn doesn't reflect kindly on his character.

Everyone- Sokka, Zuko, Roku, Kyoshi, Kuruk, and Yangchen (who was another Airbender and was raised with the same beliefs he was and would understand which was the whole point of him talking to her)- told him he had to kill Ozai. They all told him it was the only way. And he refused to listen to any of them, rotating through his past lives until he was given the answer he wanted.

And before anyone says that I'm bashing Aang for following his culture, I'm not. Ending the war peacefully, in my opinion, wasn't the problem. In a way, I think it allowed the world to heal properly. However, that doesn't make up for the fact that Aang refused to make a choice and face the consequences of that choice. Instead, he's given an out at the very last second.

Even if he couldn't kill Ozai and someone else had to deliver the final blow, that would have been better than the Lion Turtle showing up and giving him a power no one's ever had before. It would have been a good compromise, he doesn't have to have blood directly on his hands but what needs to be done needs to still get done. It would also show that being the Avatar isn't a burden he has to bear alone. That when things get hard, he can't run away but he can rely on the people closest to him to help him through hard decisions.

All these issues aren't necessarily a problem with Aang. Aang prior to Book 3 didn't have most of these problems. This is a problem with the way he was handled

[talleyuh]

just finished the bear season 3 and there is such a collective cognitive dissonance from everywhere from the writing of the show all the way to the social media marketing.

i know i’m biased because i particularly like syd and carmy together, but this season was strange but in different ways than the last season was strange.

not only does carmy take a backseat as a protagonist about halfway through, he and syd have hardly any scenes together, but i think the show almost suffers for it. this season was certainly funnier than the last, but the neil and ted fak got old and old fast. it certainly doesn’t help that even though carmy has a new arc every season, but he doesn’t take the lessons he should’ve learned into how he should act going forward. it’s stunting his growth and now that we have three seasons to compare to one another, it’s only more apparent.

we’ve already talked about how funny characters are stronger than comic relief characters and that’s essentially what the faks are. i really liked neil’s more vulnerable moments where he got to be taken seriously but it’s hard to take him seriously when all of his screen time is him doing stupid shit. also the hauntings thing? it really was not that funny.

also the show is making such an active attempt to rewrite its own history and i don’t understand why. so many little details that connect moments from the past and present to make up who the characters are and yet it’s kind of being thrown out the window.

claire being described as carmy’s peace threw me for a loop because he felt out of place in his own relationship. i think we all know the clip of carmy’s late s2 panic attack where thinking of claire and him together makes it worse but now we are given so many more scenes of when he was happy? what narrative are they trying to spin here? was carmy genuinely in love with claire or mostly disinterested, because it can’t be both.

even claire doesn’t seem interested in being with carmy at this point, and who can blame her?

her presence was just kind of weird to me, because she didn’t really interact with the rest of the cast until the 9th episode. i think her brief hospital scenes were to flesh her out more, but it’s really just creating vulnerabilities and revealing the seams. and because she’s never really been developed as much as everyone else in the series, we’re left with more questions. who was that in her bed? why was she never fired for insane medical malpractice? what is any of this for?

also a lot of the lighting this season has changed. i saw one user (can’t remember who but their post was super interesting) mention how much warmer and inviting the scenes with syd are as opposed to the coolness and almost detachment the scenes with claire were. except we see carmy in cool lighting a lot more this season.

i also wanted to add where carmy gets overwhelmed in the finale, thoughts of claire coming in with a violin sting like a horror movie doesn’t add to the narrative that they keep telling us. that’s another thing i noticed. they tell us how great claire was even though their time together hindered him being involved with his passions and his coworkers, but they retcon things and add scenes of them happy and have carmy tell us how amazing she is but they barely cared to show us.

a huge theme in this show is family and responsibility. and the scene where neil fak said claire could be the one to take care of carmy and vice versa really rubbed me the wrong way. first of all, i think it kind of supports the idea of codependency which isn’t great but i could be reaching. second, carmy isn’t really equipped to take care of anyone and i think the way he interacts with his coworkers when he’s frustrated is proof of that.

don’t get me wrong, i thought this season was amazing television, christopher storer is a brilliant writer and director, joanna calo really should helm more episodes bc ice chips was actually a perfect episode, and ayo getting the opportunity to direct tina’s episode was so amazing and i really hope i see her name in more directorial projects in the near future. but i think we’re getting a little lost in the plot here and losing sight of what the heart of the show is. the literal restaurant. and logically some of the decisions made don’t exactly hold up and i would hate to see this show fumble.

it can’t be a coincidence that so much of the show’s marketing is tied to carmy and syd and i think efforts to trick the audience are actually making the show suffer. or the increasingly less subtle decisions in the editing in the few scenes of them together? are you really gonna gaslight a whole audience for the sake of a misdirect?

[fangirlingpuggle]

For the Prism AU:

Remember in the Land Before Swine episode? Mabel feels betrayed by Stan. Not only he broke his promise to take care of Waddles but put her pig in danger and even lied about it.

How does she reacts? In the only way she can. Processing her emotions through throwing a tantrum. Refusing to talk with Stan or listen to him, even when her life is danger.

Childish? Yes. But Mabel is a child.

Now imagine this, after Bill tricked her and Dipper into using their powers and breaking the rift Mabel is MAD.

When Bill puts her in the playpen she refuses to talk with him or look him in the eye. Loudly declaring:

“Is anyone talking to me, because I am not hearing anything!”

But to the Henchmaniacs she is sweet like:

“You are so funny Keyhole!” “Pyronica, my girl, you are slaying in this color!” (Because of her powers she knows future slang)

Bill is mad. Because he lives for attention and his child, the one that is chaotic like him is refusing to acknowledge him. So, he throws a tantrum as well. Trying to make her notice him.

And this the distraction Dipper and the rest nedded to get in the pyramid.

What do you think?

Ooooooohhhhh that's prefect!!

Bill being so frustrated by her ignoring him. He's like 'YOUR GROUNDED' 'YOU ALREADY KIDNAPPED ME!!'

Just out tantruming each other is hilarious.

[ninma]

I just noticed a very interesting note in Alastor's ad in episode 1...

Who in Hazbin Hotel is the most associated with circus decor?

Lucifer.

Less than 5 min into episode 1 and we already get a hint that Alastor isn't a big fan of Lucifer.

Which is interesting because it implies that Alastor disliked Lucifer before he even involved himself with the hotel. They hadn't even met yet.

It's such a weirdly specific thing to add to a commercial too. Because when I think hotel, circus decor wouldn't be anywhere on my list of expectations.

It's clearly targeted towards Lucifer. An indirect insult Alastor probably had wanted Lucifer to see.

If this is the case, some of Alastor's commentary can be looked at slightly differently.

Lines like "Lucifer's delusional daughter", "Daddy issues" and the other insulting commentary can then also be partly aimed at Lucifer.

Which would probably be effective hits because Lucifer definitely wouldn't be happy about someone offending his daughter, but the "Daddy issues" line would probably make him feel guilt.

It's as if Alastor wanted to pick a fight the first chance he got to potentially reach Lucifer.

But like...why?

In episode 5 we have a reasonable explanation for why Alastor is poking at Lucifer. Alastor likes to be in control and have power over others, however even he knows Lucifer is more powerful than him. Therefore he aims at Lucifer's relationship with Charlie (which is what the dad comments are really about) to regain some of that power.

Which is why it doesn't make any sense for him to indirectly target Lucifer in episode 1.

Why pick a fight with the King of Hell when he barely had anything to hold over Lucifer?

When this ad was made, Charlie had known Alastor for only a week and therefore claiming to be close to her would be weird.

Heck, Alastor is even insulting Charlie and the hotel here, which definitely doesn't give him any favour from her.

Another point could be that Alastor is also partly annoyed at having to make a video. He probably doesn't expect it to air. But that still doesn't explain why he'd deliberately add a note directed at Lucifer.

So.....What's the deal here Alastor?

There isn't a clear reason for doing this.

The only one I can guess that makes some sense is that Alastor just wanted to feel some sense of power by indirectly insulting Lucifer, who is the most powerful being in all of Hell. Getting a chance to hit him where it hurts would probably bring Alastor a lot of satisfaction.

Another option is that it could be related to Lilith, if she turned out to be the one he made a deal with. It could be that Alastor's frustration over his deal makes him want to take it out on Lucifer (since he obviously can't take it out on Charlie). Lilith telling him to do it is possible, but I find it unlikely. Unless her real motive was pushing Lucifer out of his isolation and back into Charlie's life. Still find it unlikely tho.

In the end, it still feels weird for Alastor to be this intent on picking on Lucifer this early on. Taking advantage of the first opportunity to have a message reach Lucifer, despite Alastor neither having power or leverage over him if Lucifer had responded.

So...Alastor...

Care to spill the tea on why you're being so pissy?

(Sorry, couldn't resist-)

EDIT: I just realized how funny it is that despite saying there is no tacky circus decor, the hotel itself is FULL of it XD

Now that I think about it, that might actually be the joke behind the note.

(Admittedly, this might just be a fun bit of foreshadowing and doesn't really have any deeper meaning)

(Also, Lucifer's circus decor isn't tacky. I'd definitely be down for staying at a hotel with his aesthetic and decor. But, maybe that's just me)

(It kinda reminds me of how Vox immediately went to send a message to Alastor on TV the moment he learned of his return XD)

[seeingivy]

the met gala

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

content: the end contains some possibly triggering content. toxic man moment/unsafe situation so dni and protect ur peace if you need to.

an: fan service to the highest t. you want laufey? i'l give you laufey. you want sukuna? ill give you sukuna. did you ask for catoru gojo? no but i'll give it to you anyways. and the end is a nice yummy lil eren little fdklsfjdksljfkdlsjfkdsjk. also I changed real life met gala lore idgaf if they don't do real perfomances there bc they do now

songs mentioned: death of a bachelor by panic at the disco, seven by taylor swift, promise by laufey, and dorothea by taylor swift

previous part linked here

--

Eren waits for it in nervous anticipation. Because despite everything Hyla and Lana say, he knows for a fact that you won’t be staying silent. That Danny and Sareen wouldn’t let this slide and neither would you. 

And it eats at him while he waits for the real response, beyond that video Connie posted of you, Mikasa, Connie, and Jean dancing to Girlfriend and your tweets about how much you loved the song. 

He’s positive that a forty second video can’t be all you’re doing. People loved it and thought it was funny. But surely that can’t be it. 

“I can’t believe all your friends sided with her. I thought you were close with Connie.” Lana mentions. 

“I was. Before you did that.” Eren responds, clenching his jaw. He can feel anger surging through his blood, every minuscule fraction of frustration building even more - like it had been for the past three days since the awards show. 

It's irritating how quick things crumble down. He figures this is what Sukuna was talking about. Because the last time he talked to Connie was when Mikasa called him and it was nothing short of irritating. 

Eren’s phone rings in the middle of the night and he’s nearly scrambling out of his bed because he thinks it’s you. Nine hours after the awards show and you’ve finally gotten the chance to respond.

Except he sees Mikasa’s name flashing across the screen, accompanied with her contact picture which is you and Mikasa sleeping.

“Mika? What’s wrong?” 

“What the fuck is wrong with you Eren?” 

“Mikasa. Okay, I can ex-” 

“You can explain? You can explain why you just humiliated Y/N in public? Are you serious?” 

“I-I know it’s bad and she hasn’t picked up my calls and-” 

“Eren. Is there something wrong with you? Because I don’t even recognize you right now. You would never do something like this, let alone to her of all people.” 

“Did you just call me to yell at me Mikasa? You don’t think I feel bad enough about it already? You don’t think I would have stopped it if I had any idea it was going to happen?” 

He hears the line get quieter and Mikasa murmuring over the phone, only to be met with Connie talking to him now. 

“Hi Eren. It’s Connie.” 

Eren sighs, the fact that Mikasa’s so put off she won’t even talk to him sitting wrong with him all together. 

“Hi Con.” 

“You okay, man?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, is she okay?” 

“Mika? You know her, she gets mad so fast and-” 

“Not her.” Eren whispers. 

“Oh. No, no that’s why we called. She won’t talk to any of us. We called to see if you would know what to do because we’re coming short on ideas.” 

The words die on Eren’s tongue. The first line of defense when you get like this is always him, because he can always get you to talk. 

Could always get you to talk. 

“You tried Levi?” 

“Yes.” 

“Her brothers. You need to fly Falco and Colt out now. I’ll pay for the tickets. Get the shin ramen from the store, it’s her comfort food - put half of the spice packet in because she can’t eat it too spicy, make sure you boil the egg for six minutes because she likes it when it’s still a little runny, and chop ONLY carrots and green onions for the vegetables. And put on Spy Family, it’s her favorite show. Her favorite episode is nine, I think. It’s called Show Off How In Love You Are. ” 

“Okay, that’s all great man. Really. Thanks.” 

“Connie?” 

“Yeah?” 

The thought crosses his mind so fast and suddenly he's asking it.

“Do you hate me?” Eren asks, the whisper in his voice sounding so pitiful that he’s almost embarrassed. 

“No, Eren. I could never. Just, I have to be here because she needs us right now. You get that.” 

“No, no I do. Take care of her, please. Tell me how it goes.” 

“Yeah man. Sure.” 

Connie hangs up and the guilt eats at Eren. 

Eren hears the resounding pounding of footsteps - only to be met with Myka, Hyla, and two other people he’s literally never seen before - standing in his bedroom. 

The first thing he learned quickly about filming with these people? They have no concept of personal space or time. 

“What?” 

“Ricky and Y/N. They made a music video. Put it on.” Myka states, the group of them crawling onto Eren’s bed as he starts pulling up the video. 

The thumbnail already has him sick to his stomach. It’s you kissing Ricky’s cheek. The video starts with you and Ricky’s hands, playing the piano together, and it takes Eren all but three seconds to realize that this is the horrible, gut-wrenching response he was waiting for. 

His first cue? Not only are the two of you playing the piano together, but you and Ricky are wearing matching, beaded bracelets with each other’s names on them. Like the ones you and Eren have, the one he keeps on him at all times. 

The camera pans up to the two of you and Ricky starts singing, which earns him a nice list of profanities from Lana at his side. 

Do I look lonely? I see the shadows on my face People have told me I don't look the same Maybe I lost weight I'm playing hooky with the best of the best Put my heart on my chest so that you can see it, too I'm walking the long road, watching the sky fall The lace in your dress tangles my neck, how do I live?

His second cue? The dress you’re wearing in the video, the one with the lace, is one he knows all too well. 

“Okay so, Eren. I have to find a dress to wear for the album premiere tomorrow. And it's my first album and it's special and I want it to be perfect. Something kind of soft and casual, since it’s just going to be just fans. Can you help me pick?” 

Eren nods as he flops back onto the soft plush of your bed, eyes focused on all the little pictures and knick knacks littered over the walls of your childhood bedroom. Participation awards for sports, signed letters from your teachers, and pictures of you and Colt doing karaoke. 

“Ew, Eren. Don’t look at those.” 

“What do you mean? You were such a cute baby.” 

Eren hopes your kids don’t inherit your messy hair genes as you walk up to his side and look at the picture - of you and Colt with little pink microphones in your hand and the little plastic crown on your head. 

“You know, you still do that.” 

“Do what?” 

“Everyone else holds the microphone at the top, their fingers nearly wrapped around the wire. You’re like the only person I know who holds it at the bottom - like you’re doing in the picture.” 

You roll your eyes as you gesture to the dress, asking for his opinion. Eren stands up, grabbing you by the wrist, to spin you around in the air. And he loves the sound of your laugh and how you berate him immediately after. 

“Eren. Be serious. What do you think?” 

“Perfect. Wear this one.” 

“But it’s black - it doesn’t really fit the vibe that I wanted to go with.” 

“Good point. No one should see you in this but me. Try another one on.” Eren states, placing a kiss on your neck before walking over to your bookshelf. 

"You're no help." you whine.

"I'm biased. You look good in everything, sweetheart."

He’s running his hands against the spines of your books, clearly bent and broken from reading them so much as you try on the next dress. 

“Love?” 

“Hm?” your voice comes out, all muffled from the sound of the closet door. 

“How many times have you read the Goblet of Fire? This spine is demolished.” 

He feels your limbs wrap around his neck and a kiss on his cheek as you lazily murmur into his skin. 

“Lots. Cedric Diggory was my first love.” 

“Oh? Really?” 

Eren turns around and makes it a point to pointedly glare at you, which you return with the sweetest, cheesiest of smiles as you tease him on. 

“Oh, of course. I’ve always had a thing for Hufflepuffs.” 

“Would you look at that? I’m a Hufflepuff too.” 

“No, you’re not. You’re a Ravenclaw, Eren.” 

“I was expecting you to say Slytherin.” 

“No, I feel like that’s a cop-out answer. You’re intelligent, creative, and clever. Ravenclaw.” 

Eren smiles as he brings his hands down to your wrists again, spinning you in the air again. He brings his hands up to your hair to tuck your hair behind your ears before responding. 

“Nope. Very pretty, but too formal for something small like this.” 

“I appreciate the honesty this time, mon chéri. I only have one more, so it better be the one.” 

Eren leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. 

“What was that for?” 

“I love it when you speak French to me.” he whispers. 

Eren watches you roll your eyes as you disappear into your closet again. He settles into the seat at your desk, flipping through the song lyrics in your bound notebook.

And he doesn’t miss the polaroids you have taped into certain pages - the one of the two of you at the vow renewal on your invisible string page and one of him at the piano on the New Year’s Day page. 

“Okay, Eren. Good?” 

Eren turns around to find you shyly smiling at him, hands tucked behind your back. It’s a soft white dress, with a lace neckline. Eren thinks it makes you look like an angel. He makes it a point to stand up just so he can push you onto the bed behind you and lean right over you. 

“Eren.” 

He leans forward and starts peppering kisses all over your cheeks and your face, leaving longer lingering ones in your neck that leave you in a fit of nervous giggles and saying his name so softly it only sets him off more. 

“It should be illegal-” 

Kiss. 

“To look like this.” 

Kiss. 

“You’re doing this on purpose.” 

Kiss. 

“Doing what?” 

“Trying to drive me crazy, love.” 

“Am not, Eren. It’s just a dress.” 

“It’s never just a dress with you. Be serious, Y/N.” 

He watches your eyes go wide, a soft pink dusting your cheeks. Your hands are resting on his face and he swears they’re shaking, your arms trembling along with them. Eren brings his hand to your cheek, softly brushing across the skin once. 

“Hey. What is it?” he whispers. 

“You said my name.” 

“I say your name all the time.” 

“No, no. You always call me love or sweetheart.” 

“Do you like it when I say your name, Y/N?” 

He watches the blush spread across your cheeks again as you nod, the sweetest smile on your face. 

“I like how you say it. Y/N.” 

“I love your name. Though, it’s missing something.” 

He watches you frown, the confused look spreading across your face. 

“What’s that?” 

“My last name at the end.” he responds, pressing a kiss to your lips. 

“Ew, Eren. That was so corny.” 

He brings his hands down to the side of your dress, where the zipper lies and starts pulling down. He watches the shock spread on your face, immediately pulling back. 

“Are you crazy? Falco and Colt are still here even if my parents aren’t.” 

“Falco is sleeping over across the street. And Colt is definitely at a party and pretending not to be. Who takes limes and salt to a study session? He definitely needs those for the drinks, silly girl.” he responds, sliding the dress off your shoulders and burying his face in the crook of your neck, leaving lazy kisses all over your skin. 

“Eren.” 

“Hm?” 

“Chelseaiswatching.” you murmur. 

“Huh?” 

“Chelsea is watching.” you whisper.

“Who the fuck is Chelsea?” he asks, the panic laced in his voice. 

You point over his shoulder and he immediately rolls his eyes when he sees her, bringing his hands up to pinch your cheeks. 

“Are you being serious? You can’t kiss me back because your stuffed animal is watching?” 

“Eren. It’s weird, I’ve had her since I was a kid. And my dad bought her for me.” you whine. 

“And you think she’s going to narc on you?” 

“No. It’s the principle, Eren! Don’t do inappropriate things when kids or kid-like things are present.” 

Eren stands up, making it a point to pick up your stuffed animal and bury it in the back of your closet before he returns, hands on his hips. 

“Okay. Anything else? Do I need to put tape over your posters of Loid Forger doesn’t watch us doing it?” 

“Now that you say it, it’s actually-” 

“Too bad.” 

And well after being tangled in the sheets together, Eren pretends not to be offended when you pull on a hoodie and immediately get out of bed and reach for your notebook and your pen instead of cuddling with him after. 

You crawl back in the bed next to him, where he immediately rests his head in your lap and starts groaning. You reach forward to push the messy hair out of his face and make a mental note to cover up the purple skin on his neck later so Colt doesn’t hang you at the cross whenever he comes back. 

“Did I get you that inspired that you can’t hold me right now?” 

“Basically. You’re my muse, Eren.” 

“What’s the song called, Y/N?” 

“Dress.” 

“Clever. I wonder what it’s about.” he responds, pressing kisses along your thigh, consecutively going higher with each kiss. 

“Eren. Are you serious? It’s only been like ten minutes.” you respond, the nervous jittery feeling growing in your stomach. 

“It’s like vitamins. Can’t go without it.” 

“Do not refer to it as vitamins. And you can technically go without vitamins, if you’re like really healthy.” 

“Quit being a know-it-all. You know I meant like medicine.” 

“Eren.” you respond, a warning tone in your voice as you keep scribbling your lyrics out. 

“You get two minutes to finish what you’re writing and then I’m throwing that book out the window.” he responds, his breath on the inside of your legs tickling you. 

Eren knows you’re trying to drive him crazy and not in the way he likes. And it’s working. And Ricky’s all too agitating singing voice doesn’t make it any better. 

The death of a bachelor Oh oh Seems so fitting for Happily ever after (woo) How could I ask for more? A lifetime of laughter At the expense of the death of a bachelor

Eren watches you and Ricky dancing through the streets, while Ricky sings on and on about happily ever after, and he can’t help but slam the computer shut and all but push the group of them out of his room. And when he closes the door, all he can do is cry and hope they can’t hear him.

--

You peek out the window and count seven black cars and fourteen different people standing on the block, anxious faces craning up with shining black cameras in their hand. You feel a hand on your shoulder and know the ice cold hands can only be Ricky. 

“Hey.” 

“How many?” 

“Fourteen.” you groan, giving him a frown as you yank your shoulder out from under his hand and walk past him. 

You head to the vanity, where you’re going to place your last finishing touches on your outfit. Ricky’s quick to follow and lean into your space, with a smirk pressed on his face. 

“Ricky.” 

“Yes, babe?” 

“Ew. Do you need something? Or are you all up in my space for fun?” 

“For fun! You smell really good.” 

You make it a point to lightly shove him back, which you both laugh at as you clip on the sparkly necklace, making it a point to not move suddenly at all from this moment forward. 

It would be infinitely embarrassing if you ripped the first designer dress you wore. Especially when you have to return it later. 

Ricky swings his hand around you from the back and holds a cupcake in front of your face, a glimmering blue candle lit in the middle. You give him a questioning look in the mirror. 

“Baby’s first Met Gala!” 

You snort as you blow out the candle, taking it from his hands and pulling the wax out. 

“You’re welcome, by the way.” Ricky says. 

“For?” 

“The cupcake! And getting you invited to the Met Gala.” 

You smack his shoulder, giving him your angriest look, before you both laugh. 

“You’re a prick. I got invited all on my own.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that.” he responds, sarcastically. 

“What flavor is the cupcake?” 

“Chocolate.” 

“Eh. I like vanilla.” you respond, swiping the frosting off the top with your finger. But before you can lick it, Ricky reaches for it first and swipes it right off your finger. 

“I mean, I was going to eat that, Ricky.” 

“I only like the frosting of the cupcake.” 

“Well, I only like the frosting too. Especially when it’s not the flavor of cake I like.” 

You hand Ricky the rest of the cupcake and grab your purse as you head out. You press the button on the elevator and both slide in when it opens, the anticipation of the fourteen people waiting outside for you and the hundred more who will be at the event sitting on you. You must be making some weird face because Ricky catches on to it super fast. 

“Just relax. It’s just paparazzi, not flying to the moon.” 

“I know that. I just feel like I’m not entirely here at the moment. And they’re all going to ask me about Girlfriend and you and Eren and I just-” 

You still haven’t encountered the press after the entire thing, despite most of the tabloids writing things in your favor. Because rehashing the worst thing that’s ever happened for you in the two seconds the paparazzi talk to you and have it become a whole convoluted story is not something you’re ready for. 

After the entire thing went down, you retreated to your room for one day. One day. With full intentions to mope for the rest of your life, because you would never live this down. And because the entire ordeal was so overstimulating, so stressful that you need to rest.  

Until Danny and Sareen dragged you out by the legs and forced you to film a music video with Ricky. Then go to his debut of the song and the music video in Times Square. And then they granted you your beauty rest, but then that stupid voice in your head got the best of you and you couldn’t help but watch what everyone said about the entire thing after the event. 

People thought the entire Girlfriend thing was really tasteless. Because it was. Ricky did a bunch of interviews, where he just talked you up and how the entire thing was ridiculous in his opinion. They thought it was sweet of Ricky to come to your defense with Death of a Bachelor and that your official debut as a couple was one for the books. 

You’ll take a win where you can get one. 

Everyone sided with you, which was nice. Fans wise but also from your real friends. Connie, Marco, Mikasa, and Jean were at your side the entire time, which you appreciated. 

Connie was the one that convinced you that “you had the opportunity to do the funniest thing ever” and filmed a video of you, Jean, Mikasa, and him dancing to Girlfriend and posted it. 

Which was your favorite part of the entire thing, not because of the song, but because they were there for you through the entire thing. That Connie could make something mortifying funny for you. A bad memory a good one. A true testament to his support. 

Unlike some people. People’s inquisitive eyes leave no stone untouched and now rumors of a fallout between you and Historia are flying around, when she’s the only one to not publicly come to your defense. And you get it, she doesn’t have to. What you don’t understand is why she won’t return any of your calls. 

Ricky reaches down and grabs your hand, locking his fingers in yours as he gives you a smile, bringing you back down from the thoughts. 

“I won’t leave you, okay? Danny and Sareen said I should handle all those questions anyways.” 

“And if Lana comes up to me?” 

“Spit in her face. She’s really annoying.” 

“And if Eren comes up to me?” 

“I’ll give you a big kiss.” 

“Ew. Don’t do that.” 

“I love it when you act disgusted by me.” 

You snicker as the elevator rings and the door swings open. You’re immediately flooded with a mound of flashing lights as Ricky grabs your hand and drags you through the crowd into the fresh air. And it only gets worse outside because not only are the cameras outside bigger, but the reporters are louder. 

Are you and Ricky official? 

Eren and Hyla are rumored to be dating. Do you have any comments on that, Y/N? 

Can you tell us anything about your upcoming record, Ribbons? 

Ricky ducks your head into the car first before sliding in himself, tapping on the seat ahead of him as the car speeds off. You let go of Ricky’s hand, wiping the sweat against your dress, immediately freezing when you remember you’re supposed to return it at the end of the night. 

“Now was that so bad?” Ricky asks, giving you a winning smile. 

“Literally, yes! I wasn’t expecting them to be in the lobby.” 

“Cmon, you nailed it. I was there, wasn’t I?” 

“Quit trying to flirt, Ricky. You suck at it.” you grumble, which he laughs at. 

The car comes to a screeching halt and you give Ricky a weary smile as he walks out first, making it a point to open the door for you on the other side. You wrap your arm around his as you both walk the carpet, giving glimmering smiles every time you walk a few paces. 

You make mental notes of those standing on the steps behind you and you catch sight of them. Eren and Hyla, in the center of the carpet. Eren’s lifting his hand to twirl her in the middle, with consecutive clicks from the cameras. And you can see Sukuna right behind them, pretending to gag with Maki and probably ruining all the picutres.

You smile, making it a point to sit with Sukuna later because he’s so wildly unserious that it’s probably the only thing you could tolerate on a day like this. And it would really piss off Eren.

Mikasa and Jean are smiling at you from behind the ropes, Mikasa giving you a sweet smile and mouthing that you look great. She points at a spot towards the left and you nod, signaling that you’ll meet her there after. 

Out of the periphery of your eye, you catch sight of it. The giant cat in the middle of the runway. You tap Ricky on the shoulder, pointing it out to him. 

“Oh god.” 

“At the Met Gala? That’s so unserious.” you respond. 

“Ten bucks it’s Gojo.” 

“That’s such a lame bet. I know for a fact that’s Gojo. He’s the only type of dumbass to show up to the Met Gala dressed up as a big white cat with blue eyes.” 

You both lean closer together, making a point to make sure the paparazzi are taking pictures of you two all close to each other. The head of the cat pops off and surely enough, a very excited Satoru Gojo is now running in circles around in the middle of the carpet. And blocking every girl standing on the side.

You don’t miss Geto standing ten paces behind with Shoko, the two of them very loudly declaring that they, in fact, do not know or associate with that man.

“You owe me ten bucks.” 

“I never agreed to that, Ricky.” 

Ricky leans forward and plants a warm kiss on your cheek, earning a nice symphony of cooing from the photographers on the other side. 

“Oh?” 

“We both got it right. So we both get a reward.” he responds, tapping his left cheek. 

You roll your eyes as you stand on your tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek and consequently wipe your glittery lip gloss off his face after. You give the cameras a smile and wrap your arm around his again as you walk farther down the carpet towards the interviewers. 

“Y/N. You look gorgeous!” 

“Thank you! So do you.” 

“Is there anything you can tell us about your third upcoming album, Ribbons? What’s your favorite track on the album?” 

“Thank you for asking! I think Ribbons is a mix of a lot of feelings I’ve had lately - specifically good, warm, and positive feelings. I-I think that being negative is something that’s really easy to do, especially when you’re in my position, but I try to keep my music feeling like sunshine on a nice day, because who likes to focus on the bad when you can just be the good. My favorite track on the album is seven, a song that I’ll be performing inside later today with one of my best, best friends who I wrote it with.” 

“That’s sweet. Are any of these positive feelings a consequence of your new beau, Ricky James?” 

And right on cue, Ricky’s on your side, tilted eyes glimmering in the camera. 

“I know for a fact they are. She loves to write songs about me.” 

“That’s a bold statement coming from you, Ricky.” you respond. 

“I’m a bold guy.” Ricky responds, giving you a wink. 

“Speaking of writing songs, Y/N. How do you feel about songs being written about you? Songs like Girlfriend?” 

The reporter looks way too excited at this part now. You look at Ricky before answering, who gives you a subtle nod. The answer you practiced with Sareen and Danny. 

“I think it’s flattering.” 

“Really?” 

Ricky slides his hand around your waist and smiles, finishing off the rest of the answer for you. 

“Oh, it’s totally flattering. I mean, I’d be really intimidated if I was comparing myself to someone like Y/N here too. She’s quite literally at the top of her game, in every sense, and it’s easy to feel less than when you’re comparing yourself to a future triple threat. So we get the thought process behind it.” 

“Ricky.” 

“It’s true, Y/N. Personally, I think they should pick London Boy from her discography as the song selection. But that’s just me.” 

You smile at each other as you give the interviewer a polite nod, giving each other a thumbs up as you walk around the floor. You finally get to stop near Jean and Mikasa, who are very obviously already wine drunk, from the way their cheeks are tinted pink. 

“Wow, Jean. It hasn’t even been two hours yet.” you respond, placing your hand flat against his cheek to see how much his skin is burning. 

“I hate this type of shit.” Jean responds, grumbling. 

“Jean. How drunk are you? Don’t tell me you’re imagining cats walking around are you?” you ask, feigning concern. 

“Huh? That cat isn’t real?” 

“You’re actually seeing cats?!” Mikasa asks, catching on. 

“THERE’S A REAL CAT HERE, MIKA. LOOK.” Jean says, pointing at Satoru who is now lying face down on the red carpet. 

"Jean."

"Y/N. MIKASA. I'M SO SERIOUS I SWEAR THERE'S A REAL CAT. IT TALKED TO ME EARLIER. IT TOLD ME I SHOULD HAVE DRESSED UP AS A HORSE WITH IT."

“Oh, sweetheart. We should go inside, you’ve had too much. You always do this, Jean.” Mikasa says, shaking her head as she leads him in. Mikasa turns her head over her shoulder and gives you a wink, before she walks straight into the venue. 

Geto and Shoko come up to your side after they catch you staring at Gojo - who's now doing the worm in his cat suit on the floor - as they both give you polite hugs. The three of you stand against the wall to watch him take the spotlight away from anyone who was hoping to have it. 

“Can you believe you’re married to that guy?” you ask Geto. 

“Please don’t remind me. It pains me everyday.” 

“He wore the cathead to my house the first day he got it. I was hosting a vigil for one of my neighbors.” Shoko states, placing a cigarette between her teeth. 

You snort at the thought of Gojo, in his fully exuberant energy, trotting into a room of people mourning with the cat head on.

Megumi and Yuuta join the group of you as you now watch Yuuji - whose actually dressed in a nicely styled suit - have a dance off with Cat Gojo on the red carpet. 

You nudge Megumi in the side. 

“Can you believe you’re dating that guy?” 

“We’re breaking up.” Megumi responds, earning a laugh from the group. 

“I can’t tell what’s worse. The fact that they’re dance battling at the Met Gala or that Yuuji is horrendously losing to Gojo wearing a twelve pound cat-suit.” 

“Yuuji losing.” you all respond in unison. 

“I think Cat Gojo is going to haunt me in my dreams.” you respond. 

“Get this, Y/N. It’s not Cat Gojo. It’s Catoru.” Yuuta responds. 

“Don’t tell me he trademarked it already.” 

“He did.” they all respond in unison. 

"Geto. Shoko. When you burn that thing in the flames of hell, I want a video." you state.

"That's a promise, kid." Geto responds, with Shoko giving an affirmative nod.

You turn to your left to find Ricky standing at your side, with his arm wrapped around John. Historia’s ex-boyfriend. You give the group of them a polite nod as you walk away and join Ricky at your side. 

“Y/N. This is my friend, John. He’s been looking forward to meeting you.” 

“Hi. Y/N.” you respond, making every effort to emphasize the flatness in your voice. 

“John. Nice to meet you.” he responds, holding his hand out which you refuse to touch. 

“Play any chess games lately?” you ask, making a pointed reference to Historia’s song. 

He glares and you watch the smile on Ricky’s face drop. You give your best, sickly sweet smile as you wait for a response. 

“That’s right. You acted in Attack on Titan so you must be friends with Historia.” 

“Very good friends.” you respond. 

“Okay John, we’re going to go in. I’ll see you in a sec, yeah?” Ricky responds, hands increasingly hard on your biceps as he drags you a few paces away. 

“Ouch, Ricky. Get off.” 

He’s leaning close to you, whispering in your ear earlier like you two were when Satoru came in, except this is nowhere near as fun as last time. 

“What’s your problem?” 

“What’s yours? He’s not a good guy, Ricky.” 

“I’ve made every effort to be friends with your friends. You could and should be doing the same for me, Y/N.” 

“And I will. For your friends who aren’t groomers, Ricky.” 

Ricky glares at you before giving you a smile and pressing a kiss to your forehead with the paparazzi so close, before dragging you into the venue with him. You settle into your seat next to Ricky, craning your neck to see where the rest of your friends are sitting, all the way on the other side of the room. 

You turn to the girl sitting next to you and whisper in her ear. 

“Hi. I’m Y/N.” 

“I-I know who you are. I’m a big fan.” 

“I’m really sorry to ask you this then. But you see that guy right there, pink hair, those two little scars near his eyes. Could you go and switch seats with him? He’s sitting in between Megumi Fushiguro and Yuuta Okkotsu, so I can at least promise it’s a better seat than this one.” 

She looks over and gives you an affirmative nod. You squeeze her shoulder as you watch her stomp over, Sukuna turn back to give you a questioning look, before letting the girl take his seat and striding over to sit next to you with two cups in his hands. 

He sits on the chair to your left, making it a point to spread his legs as far as he can on his chair, and glare at Ricky as he sits down. 

“What do you want, doll?” 

“Nothing. I got bored.” 

He shrugs as he places the second cup in front of you, which you pick up. And then immediately spit back up, because it’s just straight vodka. 

“Shit. My bad, doll. That’s mine.” 

“You’re drinking straight vodka? No chaser?” you ask. 

“Imagine doing this shit sober. I’d drive myself half insane.” he murmurs. 

You switch the cups and drink yours again, pleasantly surprised by a warm, sweet latte. 

“Sukuna. How’d you know?” you ask. 

“Eren told me.” 

You look over at him, giving him your best glare. 

“As if you’d talk to Eren.” you snort, craning your neck to find him on his phone, next to Hyla’s who is fixing her hair. 

“We talk. It’s just not pleasant.” 

“Yeah. My preferred coffee order is just so horrible to talk about.” 

“You wouldn’t believe it. Poor guy mopes about you so much it even makes me depressed.” 

Ricky taps aggressively on your shoulder, leaning over into your space.

“I’m going to go sit with John.” Ricky states, angrily. 

“Okay?” you respond. 

“Okay? That’s it, Y/N?” 

“Do you need a formal, written invitation? Or does she need to hold your hand and walk you there so you don’t get lost?” Sukuna responds, glaring at him. 

Ricky gets irritated at Sukuna’s response and storms off, which just has Sukuna moving his chair so that you can both prop your legs up on it. You’re both switching off on sharing your drinks - mixing Sukuna’s alcohol with your latte and watching all the performances. 

“Are you performing?” Sukuna asks. 

“Yeah. With Marco, right before Eren.” 

“Real cute. Is it that same fluff shit you always write?” 

You smack him hard on the shoulder. 

“Asshole. That fluff shit is Multi-Platinum, dumbass.” 

“I get that. But I’m saying, you should write something more serious than that. Instead of penting up all that rage in your forehead, you should write it in a song. Quit letting real stupid girls call you stupid in songs.” 

“I can’t. My record doesn’t really like the idea of that.” you respond. 

“So? You’re the artist and it’s your music. Write whatever you want. Don’t be a chickenshit.” 

“It’s not that simple, Sukuna.” 

“No. It literally is. You’re just chicken.” 

“It’s not about chicken, Sukuna. My record was the one who took a chance on me and to some extent, I have to follow that. And they’ve made me Multi-Platinum so far so who am I to not listen to them?” 

“God. You’re pathetic.” 

“And you’re an asshole, Sukuna.” 

“Do you want to kiss now?” 

You reach forward to smack his face, which elicits a laugh from him. 

“You never change, do you Sukuna?” 

“Best thing about me, doll. You should learn to piss people off like I do. It’ll actually relieve some of that tension. And flirting is good for your health.” 

“We can’t all afford to be feather rustlers like you.” 

“You could. I’m sure people would eat it up - the whole sweet girl saying her mind type thing. I’ll give you lessons on how to talk your shit sometime instead of letting idiots like that do it for you.” 

He points over at Ricky, whose glaring bullets at the two of you. You give him a gesture, which he completely ignores as he turns over to whisper in John’s ear. 

“Out of all guys, you had to pick that one? When you tweeted that you were charged with murder, I thought you were being serious and got really excited for a second.” 

“Danny and Sareen picked him. That’s not my fault.” 

You feel a tap on your shoulder and see the usher, signaling that it’s time for you to perform. You nod and turn to Sukuna, who's already getting up from the chair. He presses a kiss to your cheek before you walk off to the other side where Marco’s waiting. 

--

Eren’s sitting towards the end of the bench, hands pressed under his legs, when he watches you take the stage with Marco, a glittering smile on your face.

And in your billowing, white dress, there’s only one thing Eren can focus on. The fish tattoo, right on display. He instinctively reaches for his own, hidden under the fabric of his clothes, and thinks about how your sweet, flowery smell was always overwhelming, even in a disgusting tattoo parlor. 

And when Eren catches sight of Marco at the piano, Eren knows you’re a temptress to everyone and not just him. Exhibit A? You convinced Marco to sing in public with you. 

“Hi everyone. My name is Y/N.” 

Everyone breaks into a loud applause and Eren thinks that the wolf-whistling in the corner is Mikasa, who he’s convinced is shit-faced by the way her cheeks are glowing pink. 

“Thank you. Um, can we just take a minute to give a second round of applause to my sunshine boy, Marco, here? He’s not a big singer and I’ve all but forced him to do this with me, so let’s all give him some love.” 

The crowd claps again and Eren knows for a fact that the wolf-whistling this time is Jean, who is actually plastered. 

“This song is off my new album, called Ribbons, and it’s called seven. The idea of this song kind of came up randomly. I told Marco that it was kind of sad that I don’t have any of the childhood friends I did when I was a kid anymore. And Marco just responded by saying, ‘what do you mean, we’ve been friends since we were seven?’ And long story short, I jumbled out a nice mess of lyrics with Marco and Armin produced it after that and the song was finished. We hope you like it!” 

Marco starts playing a soft piano tune, accompanied by your light strumming on the guitar, and some part of it is so familiar, so you that it makes Eren’s heart ache. Not that Eren’s a big hater of your new, more pop songs like London Boy, but Eren’s always enjoyed your soulful, soft songs like this more.

They remind him of the soft parts of him that you only shared with him, when you used to be next him when he slept at night. 

Y/N:  Please picture me In the trees I hit my peak at seven feet In the swing Over the creek I was too scared to jump in But I, I was high in the sky With Pennsylvania under me Are there still beautiful things?

Eren fights the urge to snort. Of course, there’s still beautiful things. You’re standing right there.

And Eren knows he’s way too sensitive for this because hearing your soft, echoing voice when he’s about to sing a song about the last time he kissed you has him pushing his face into the table. Because there are tears in his eyes. 

Y/N:  Sweet tea in the summer Cross your heart, won't tell no other And though I can't recall your face I still got love for you

Marco:  Your braids like a pattern Love you to the moon and to Saturn Passed down like folk songs The love lasts so long

When you both finish, Eren watches you give Marco a big hug and a kiss on the cheek as you both walk off together. And then Eren’s trailing up to the stage where Historia’s waiting, the orchestral suite setting up their instruments and he feels his hands shaking at his sides. Historia gives him a smile, which he appreciates as he takes the front stand.

He hates it up here. He knows that flowery scent in the air is you. He manifested it by thinking about it and now it's suffocating him.

You lean against the wall with Marco, hands linked together, as you watch Eren readjust the microphone to his height and Historia sit at the piano. You make a fleeting second of eye contact with her and give her a smile, which she halfheartedly returns.

Eren’s hair is shorter, he’s cut it from the last time you’ve seen him. And he looks kind of tired, though you’re sure you look no better. 

“My name is Eren Jaeger. This is my new song, Promise, that I co-composed and wrote with my friend, Historia.”

You lean your head against Marco’s shoulder, who is giving you a warm squeeze on the shoulder, as you listen. 

I made a promise To distance myself Took a flight, through aurora skies Honestly, I didn't think about How we didn't say goodbye Just see you very soon

You pinch your eyes shut as you feel the breath constrict in your throat and tears warm in your eyes. 

“You okay?” 

“It’s Eren. Of course, I’m not okay.” you whisper. 

No matter how long I resist temptation  I always lose  It hurts to be something  It’s worse to be nothing with you I’ve done the math  There’s no solution  We’ll never last Why can’t I let go of this? 

As Eren goes on and on, that soft voice that’s lulled you to sleep hundreds of time is haunting you. And Marco’s reflexes to wipe your tears away fast are the only reason that people don’t catch on.

When Eren finishes, his green eyes meet yours and he gives you a painstakingly long look, before walking away. 

You don’t see him again that night. Or for a while. You figure it's better that way. Being in the same room but not talking is like nails on a chalkboard.

--

You lean over the counter, scrolling through the set of pictures Ricky just took, as you wait for the timer on your computer to count down.

Ricky circles his arm around your shoulder, as you both watch the seconds on the timer run out and the little display of confetti go around the screen. 

You refresh the tab on your Apple Music and you see it - your name and album cover displayed in bright colors right at the top banner. 

“How does it feel?” Ricky asks, watching you refresh your Spotify on your phone and watch the songs turn from grey to white, meaning they're now able to be played. 

“Good. I hope Historia calls me after she realizes that dorothea is about her.” you murmur, the notifications on your phone buzzing from Reiner, Levi, and Mikasa. You open Levi's first.

levi: We love the record, kid.

you: it's been out for five seconds.

levi: Just shut up and take the compliment, sometimes.

you: I love you, levi. give kisses to hange. i'll call you guys tomorrow.

“She will. Just relax.” Ricky states, as he watches you push up on the counter, legs dangling in the air after putting your phone down.

He reaches for the lowest drawer, pulling out a dark black box and placing it flat in the palm of your hand. 

“What’s this?” 

“A gift, before you go on tour. And I wanted to ask you something.” 

You nod, encouraging him to go on, as you look at the bracelet - a chain-linked, chunky silver bracelet with a heart charm right in the middle. 

“That’s custom made. From Tiffany, because it’s your favorite right?” 

“Yeah. Thank you, I really appreciate it.” 

“Well, I’m really proud of you. Ribbons is a great record and I’m sure you and I will be competing for Record of the Year in a few months.” 

You smile as Ricky leans closer, hands on both of your sides of the counter. 

“I think you’re really great. And-and I know we’ve been pretending but some part of this became really real for me and I think it did for you too. So I think we should quit playing around and do this for real.” 

You feel your throat dry as Ricky smiles at you, so excited and earnest, that you almost feel bad. For how you’re going to shoot him down. 

“Ricky. Oh. Um. Listen. You’re really great. I-I really like you. But I-I don’t know if I can do that right now.” you respond. 

“That’s okay. I don’t expect anything from you and I’m willing to be patient and all that. We’ll figure it out.” he responds, yanking the chain out of the box and reaching forward to secure it around your hand. 

“Listen. I-I don’t know if it’s all that. It’s just, I don’t. I like you Ricky but not like that. I just can’t do that right now.” 

Ricky leans back in confusion, dragging the necklace off your hand as you give him your most sincere smile. And you can’t help but feel bad for not liking him back. When he’s helped you out more times than you can count, with red carpets and defending you when he didn’t have to. 

But you can't help these sort of things.

“Listen. I-I can go home. I’ll take the trash and then leave so you can be alone, yeah?” 

“Okay. I appreciate that. Thank you for being honest.” 

You breathe a sigh of relief.

“Of course. And thank you for taking it well, I still appreciate what you’ve done and have a lot of love for you.” you respond, squeezing his shoulder as you walk past. 

You take the half filled bag of trash and walk out to the garage to swing the door open. There’s a decent amount of rain pouring down and you quickly scamper out admist it. You throw the bag over your shoulder and quickly run over to the chute to throw it down before running down to the door. 

Except when you reach for the handle, it doesn’t pull down. You jam it down, more aggressively this time as the heavy drops start matting your hair to your forehead. Giving up on the door, you run to the other side and rap your knuckles against the window, where Ricky’s back is still turned. 

He turns around and gives you a look, half opening the window. 

“Hey. Sorry, I accidentally locked the door on the way out.” 

“That wasn’t an accident. That was me.” Ricky responds, glaring at you. 

“Huh?” 

“That was me.” he responds, again. 

“Listen, I can’t really hear you and it’s really cold outside. Can you just let me in?” you ask. 

“Sorry, Y/N. I really like you but I just don’t know if I can do that right now.”

"Ricky."

He closes off the window and walks away all together. 

You can feel the panic setting in your chest - at the fact that you’re standing in the pouring rain in Seattle and you don’t know where to go. And that Ricky, nice and sweet Ricky, just locked you out.

You hunch over on your knees, yanking your phone out of your pocket to call Mikasa. She picks up on the first call and you can hear her and Jean screaming through the speaker. 

“TOP TEN ON THE CHARTS I KNOW THAT’S RIGHT.” they both scream, the sentence going over you’re head. 

“Mika. Mika, wait.” you whisper, the tears starting to fill your eyes. 

You’re thrown off by the screeching of tires and doors closing and you march over to Ricky’s side door. You lightly crack it open and spot seven paparazzi cars, parked straight on Ricky’s porch. 

Meaning. Not only did Ricky lock you out of his house in the pouring rain but he made sure to call the paparazzi so they can catch you the first chance he got. You quickly shut the door and run to the backside of the house, into the back streets by Ricky’s neighborhood. And the panic's starting to make your legs shake.

“Mika. You’re not still in Seattle, are you?” you ask, the panic laced in your voice. 

“No, babe. We’re in Tampa right now for Armin and Annie’s thing. We left a few days ago.” 

“Do you know anyone who is? This is urgent, Mika.” 

You hear Mikasa murmuring over the phone and suddenly Jean’s on the line, his voice more firm and collected than Mikasa’s. You can suddenly hear her panicking in the background, talking to a third voice you can’t identify. 

“Marco says your options are Eren or Historia. They’re both still in Seattle, though I think Eren’s closer to where you are. Call us when you’re safe. Immediately, Y/N.” Jean says. 

“Okay.” 

You can hear the sound of raised voices from the direction you came and you quickly hunch to the side. You try your best to wipe the wetness of your phone as you scroll for Eren’s contact and dial. 

He picks up on the first ring.

“Y/N?” he asks, voice raspy like he was sleeping. 

And at the sound of his voice, months after the fact, when you’re soaked to the bone in the rain, you can’t help but cry. 

“Eren?” you ask, voice breaking. 

“Y/N. What is it?” he asks, voice suddenly louder. 

“I need your help.”

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"No. No, I'm not hurt, but I could be? I don't know, Eren I-"  

“Say the word. What-what is it? I-I’m there. Just tell me what you need me to do, love."  

“I need you to come get me, Eren.” 

“I’m coming. Stay exactly where you are and on the line with me.”

--

--

next part linked here

taglist:

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lmk if you want to be added to the taglist by either commenting on this or the masterlist <3

[dozing-marshmallow]

Howdy! I hope you have a good morning/afternoon/evening/night!

So, can you do Chris McLean x Wife!Reader where Reader is his exact opposite? Like, Reader is serious, seems indifferent and looks intimidating, rarely smiles or laughs, but inside, she's a very soft person and cares about those she loves. Extra points if Reader is, like, VERY tall (almost like Jasmine) and VERY strong. Like, Chris only reaches up to her chest/collarbone, and she can literally pick him up and carry him all over the island without getting tired.

And she's very good for cuddling because her hugs always feel so protective.

Hi lovely! Thank you for sending this in, I hope you enjoy reading it and have a wonderful day!💝✨

CHRIS MCLEAN X WIFE! KUUDERE! READER ONE SHOT

Realistically, Chris would not want to be with a tall woman, but your smaller size did not measure how strong you still were.

And intimidating.

Every episode, interview, event, your face was the same. Stoic. Frowning.

You’ve heard the “guess the wind must have changed direction” joke one million times.

You don’t understand why people seem to be more frightened of you than of your husband, the Chris McLean.

Your hobbies don’t involve TNT or torture.

You were knitting a quilt for a local charity, diligent fingers at work, when a pair of arms deluged you from the side.

“(Y/NNNN)!”

You pause.

Your husband chuckles, rubbing his rough cheek against yours as he booped your nose,“Boop! Hellooooo, (Y/N)! Helloooooo!”

“...”

“Come onnnn, what’s a TV host gotta do to get a thing like you to respond?” he asks melodramatically, grabbing your face and controlling it to face him.

“I’m busy.” you managed to say through your squished cheeks.

“So you can’t spare one ounce of attention for your beloved husband?” 

You rotate your head as horizontally as you could.

“Aren’t you funny! Fine then, I’ll go and leave you to your lonely self. But only if you give me a smile!” he chimes, now tugging up on the edges of your lips.

You jerk your head back, neutral face pristine. You go back to your knitting.

“Hey, don’t leave me hanging. One smile won’t kill ya, (Y/N)! Just for me?” he drags, batting his eyelashes.

“Tell me a joke.” you instruct, deciding entertaining a hope wouldn’t hurt.

“Uhh..." he ponders,"Heather’s life?”

“That’s rather insensitive.”

“Blah blah blah, okay, softy.” Chris snorts,“Cody once told me he tried working at a belt store, but had trouble making ends meet.”

“Cody has told me himself he has yet to work.” you objected with fact.

He starts groaning loudly in defeat.

You blink slowly at him,“If you are going to lie, husband, at least make it believable.”

“What’s the point?” the dramatic inquiry left his lips,“You see right through me. I  married a grandma!” his hands clutched onto his flawless hair out of frustration.

“I’m the younger one.”

“Younger body with an old soul." he taunts,"A really really really old wrinkly soul.”

“That makes me wiser then.”

“Or just really lame.” you knew him well enough to recognise that these insults were just an attempt to get a rise out of you.

“You still haven’t achieved your goal.”

“What’s the point! I’ve tried everything!” Chris whines.

“You have the rest of your life to do that.”

“Um, more like the rest of your life. I’m not dying before you!” he retorts.

“I think you will.” you claim coolly,“You’ve created more enemies than you have hair.” your face brought no justice to the sudden heart-sinking thought of Chris dying.

“Show biz, baby! Show biz!” but the slight tremor in his voice told you it terrified him too.

To distract yourself, your sight drives back to the yellow yarn ball in your hands, whispering to it,“Aren’t you so pretty...” before throwing it up in the air and catching it.

“Are you... Am I seeing this right?” his words were more appropriate for a father to his newborn rather a husband to his wife.

You weren't smiling then, but- “Yarn balls [were] cute,” enough to spawn one.

At first, your husband complains out of disbelief,“So it took an inanimate object to get you to crack? Seriously? You know what that means? You’re not a grandma... You’re feline! Yeah, that sounds wayyyy better! You were reincarnated from a cat weren’t you, (Y/N)?” he then lovingly wildly pats your head as you set the ball of yellow yawn down beside you on the couch,“Come on, you’ve gotta start purring for me!”

“But (Y/N) isn’t a grandma nor a cat.” you remind, standing to your feet.

“Just try!” impatience wired his tone.

“...Mm mm.” you decided as you picked him up. It was your way of making up for planting the likelihood of an early death in his mind.

Naturally his ego instinctively resorts to whining,“(Y/NNN), let me go! Put me down! Now!”

You put one arm under his legs and the other along his chest,“You know you like it. You’re smiling wider than I ever had.”

He couldn’t deny the safety he inevitably felt,“I am and I hate it! You’re making me feel trapped!” your husband exclaims. In truth he enjoyed it, but he was too proud to make it obvious, even in private. He groans,“Okay okay! I uh promise, I’ll let you pick what we’re having for dinner tonight if you put me down! Put me down, put me dowwwwwwn!”

You kiss him on his neck,“Deal.” then set him down, making sure he was on his feet before retrieving your arms,“Perfect timing. I was craving fish today.”

"Fish again..." he groans once more as he turns to face you, attempting to fix his hair,“You ever get tired of that?”

You shake your head.

"Well I made the promise, so..." he sighs, the longer he silently observed how you continued to knit like the conversation never happened, the weaker his urge was to repress a smile,"Damn it, (Y/N). What am I gonna do with you?"

[ride-thedragon]

HOTD Costume Continuity.

This is my favourite inconsistency in the show. Nothing makes less sense and it's my favourite thing.

So this show is notorious for strange costuming. Whether that be mischaracterisations or tying character outfits to relationships rather than have it be a representation of the characters, it's frustrating as a fun having theorist but incredible as someone who loves costumes.

Typically in productions they'd have someone track the continuity of the costumes to ensure these inconsistencies don't occur but because house of the dragon is a money laundering scheme (a joke, don't sue me), they didn't have one or that person was really bad at their job.

Examples:

1. Alicent with 2 kids in 5 years.

This is one of the better examples because they keep the dress and the accessories, but they do change her hair. To signal the length of time, the first one is her marriage announcement. By the second one, Aegon and Helaena are already born.

2. Jace and Luke have a style.

This one is incredibly funny because they have two sets of actors for the same characters in the same outfit. They made the same outfit twice for younger and older variations of the characters. Also, I don't know why they had to be this matchy matchy. Joff could not care less about their agenda, my sweet prince.

3. Corlys,I'm sorry

They had this man in the same doublet and belt combination for 20 years. Daemon was still heir, and Rhaenyra was crowned Queen in the time they kept Corlys in this outfit. The richest man in Westeros.

4. Alicent again.

This one is less funny, They had her change her outfit to have dinner, then change her outfit to meet with the council and Rhaenys to change back into the same outfit to crown Aegon.

Changing course to the days at a time arguement.

1. Alicent 1.

That's her speaking to her father before he departs, speaking to Larys in the garden and confronting Rhaenyra in the garden after the day. The styling stays exactly the same, unfortunately.

2. Alicent 2.

They have her in this outfit for days. Even after the tourney.

3. Rhaenyra 1 and 2.

Now the 1st one is a 6 year time jump, and the second is 5, but my issue is why would Rhaenyra at 14 wear the same dress as Rhaenyra at 19. Also, the red dress happens back to back episode wise.

4. Rhaena and Helaena.

I'll say that Baela might be their favourite young girl because she never wears an outfit more than once a day. Rhaena and Helaena do, though.

So they do it a lot. These aren't all the examples, I just refuse to focus on men and think that this is funny.

[steakout-05]

it's so funny seeing the negative fan reactions to Jax being even more of an asshole than he was in episode 1. like first of all, how can you not enjoy his dickhead antics and growing frustrations at the things that aren't allowing him to be a dickhead 100% of the time. i think it's really entertaining to watch him be a complete jackass to everything and everyone! and second of all, i feel like this is an effect of twitter fandom kiddies always praising a character who's a perfect angel or a "bad boy but he's bad in a good way..." character and deeming characters "immoral" as soon as they do something bad. as soon as that character they attached themselves to isn't what they thought they were, they get super mad about it, even though Jax hasn't really changed at all since episode 1. it's like seeing Jax have more opportunities to be an utterly selfish and destructive asshole put them off from the character entirely because "ohh he's mean now". it's so weird. like god forbid a character has flaws or does objectively horrible things that makes them more entertaining /sarc.

it's kinda like the whole discourse surrounding Pomni "abandoning" Ragatha in the pilot. a lot of people were deeming Pomni to be a terrible character because she did something that could be perceived as "morally incorrect" when 1. she was scared and confused out of her mind and practically in survival mode the entire time she was there, 2. she literally just met Ragatha a while ago and wasn't in the right place to properly prioritise anything but her own survival, and 3. characters are allowed to do """immoral""" things because it's interesting, it makes them more complex and it drives the plot. oh yeah, and they're not real!!! they can't hurt anyone!!! it's so confusing how people will see a character with flaws and then get so enraged about how immoral they are, while completely missing the point as to why a character has flaws in the first place.

i just find it funny how people saw Jax in the first episode, visualised a bad boy version of him in their heads and then got super mad when he was even meaner deliberately in the second one and isn't exactly what they wanted him to be. like you guys just pulled a full 180 and went from loving him to despising him in and instant. characters will have something deserving of a character arc and twitter fandom kiddies will become livid about it.

by the way, i thought Jax being even more of an asshole shined a brighter light on his troubled nature. like,,, to me it seems Jax's asshole-ish attitude is kind of a mask for deeper insecurities, especially when you see his face soften during Kaufmo's funeral, before quickly replacing it with anger and walking away. i think he's grappling with some heavy shit and trying to hide it behind a troublemaker attitude and constantly causing chaos and destruction to distract himself. i think that's why he got so angry and frustrated during the second episode, because he couldn't always have his way. he's definitely hiding something. whether it has something to do with Kaufmo, his situation or both, i wanna see what happens and what's going on with him.

personally, i want Jax to get worse, because it would be a very interesting look at how he deals with the circus compared to everyone else. i want him to get so aggressive and asshole-ish that he does something he deeply regrets (in reference to what a tweet from Gooseworx teases). to me, the biggest allure of TADC is the way the characters react to what's going on around them. each character has such a different way of coping with everything and i think Jax's way of coping, desiring chaos and death and destruction, would be an interesting look into who he is as a character. i want his harmful coping skills to drive him to a breaking point because hell yeah, character development!!! i want to see what makes the asshole into something closer to not really being as much of an asshole as he started out as.

[replaytech]

din having the time of his life teasing you because you get jealous (din djarin x female reader)

i’ve been thinking a LOT about the episode in s1 called “the prisoner” where din meets up with that group and it’s hinted at that he (most likely) had a romantic relationship with xi’an… like imagine if you were with him at that moment…

you’ve been super irritated and crabby ever since it let slip that din had a past with xi’an. it was ridiculous and you would NEVER admit it to din, but wow, were you jealous.

you were convinced that the ex-imperial sharpshooter, mayfield was his name, was trying to instigate a fight, because man was he not helping things.

the two of you were looking at din and xi’an from across the room. she decided that it was a good idea to get real close and touchy. when her hand landed on his chest plate, you thought were about to tussle with a stranger.

“you’re just gonna let them do that?”, is what came out of mayfields mouth.

you cut a nasty glance at him, “i don’t need you as an instigator, imp.”

he just laughed, amused at how riled up you are, “no need for the attitude, princess.”

you didn’t even look at him as you deadpanned, “i’ll kill you.”

you had just about enough of this situation when you heard xi’an laugh, so you got up and walked towards them.

“are we ready for the mission, or do i need to set up a dinner table and candles for the two of you?”

you regretted saying it almost immediately. the internal cringe you were experiencing was intense. you were so incredibly jealous.

everyone got on the ship except for you and din. he hasn’t said a word to you. he had just stared silently at his surroundings until the two of you were alone.

you awkwardly nodded and looked at the ground, “so, xi’an huh?”

you thought for sure that he would be angry or embarrassed at your little tantrum moment, seeing as how he still hasn’t said a word. after a few seconds you see- his shoulders shaking? is he- is he laughing?

your suspicions are confirmed as soon as his laugh can be audibly heard, and you were puzzled to say the least.

“are you seriously laughing?”

he puts his hands on his hips and levels his visor at you, nodding his head, “yes.”

you thought for second to perhaps throttle him, but he was needed for this mission after all.

you grew frustrated, “I’m so glad that you think this is funny, din.”

his hands didn’t leave his hips, “cyare, listen to yourself. are you serious?”

you look at him, no amusement in your expression whatsoever.

he sighs, “look, mesh’la, yes, we have a past together, but not a good one. she was not and never will be right for me. you are right for me. you. only you.”

it’s your turn to sigh, “i’m sorry-“

dins hand goes to your chin, “don’t apologize. you getting all jealous and worked up over her was very entertaining. i love that little scrunch that your nose gets-“

you slap his hand away and roll your eyes but he keeps talking, “every woman in this galaxy could be standing in front of me, and i would spot you first, cyare, every time.”

you put on a small smile, “because of my huge forehead?”

“the biggest and prettiest forehead in the galaxy, really.”

“very funny.”

he lets out a soft chuckle then puts a hand on your shoulder, “i will love you and your big forehead even through death. now, let’s get this mission over with, and try not to kill xi’an, no matter how tempting.”

you chuckle as well, “okay, just make sure not to kill mayfield. he did refer to me as a princess earlier-“

his head whips in your direction, and you put on an innocent smile, “what? are you jealous?”

[luthien-under-bough]

my meandering thoughts after ep7:

i think a lot of people are overlooking the importance of daemon's scenes in episode 7 in focusing so much on oscar tully. like ok sure it is objectively funny to see daemon be read for filth by a teenager, but this is not some meta punishment doled out by the writers because they hate his character - or even oscar "gagging" daemon. this is daemon directly responding to rhaenyra's accusation during their ep2 argument: "I think you used my words as an excuse to take your own revenge… to indulge the darkness you keep sheathed within you like a blade." Oscar's own words to willem blackwood call back to this: "it is true that he made clear his base desires, but you did not have to pursue such savagery. You did it… because you wanted to."

like yes, daemon is being humbled, but he is also specifically acting contrary to his own desires, and choosing to do what is necessary in service to rhaenyra's claim. it's obvious in the look he shares with ser simon, and in his shifting expression from anger to acceptance as he realizes he must do this to earn the crucial support of the riverlords. i do not think the daemon of episode 2/3 would have responded this way. he would have given into that impulse that's telling him to smack oscar around and burn the lot of them. he is putting aside what he would do, in favor of what rhaenyra needs him to do.

And the look on his face afterwards is full of horror - for the first time we really see him haunted by his own act of violence, when we've typically seem him remorseless or flippant (rhea royce, vaemond velaryon, the unnamed body they used for laenor's "death") if it advances his aims. this contrasts with rhaenyra in this same episode, where we see her really indulging in violence for the first time - she sacrifices the dragonseeds in pursuit of finding new dragonriders, which is also a repudiation of her and daemon's earlier argument, where he accused her of being too weak to spill blood to achieve greatness.

(literally everything they do ties back to one another, their influence on one another, and which parts of each other and viserys they choose to internalize and express - two halves of a whole, indeed - so it baffles me that most daemyras are unsatisfied with this storyline just because they aren't physically together, but that's a story for another post)

daemon's scene in the Harrenhal godswood leads directly into the vision with viserys, where he is confronted with the question of whether or not he still wants the crown (really, if he ever actually wanted it - or was it just a symbol of his brother's love, of recognition, of the ultimate tool to achieve power and respect in this world). he's just had to make a choice and take an action that conflicts with his own worldview, of what strength and loyalty means, of the acceptability to the ends justifying the means, of the ramifications of the collateral damage that such choices have - which is all tied into the true weight of bearing the crown. is he really cut out for this? i think it's clear the answer will be 'no' - and it will reaffirm his support for rhaenyra, at the same time her own journey has brought her to a place where she has found a way to wield her power and authority in a way that can be respected (and feared) and is independent of her reliance on daemon's martial prowess and masculinity.

if there's still any doubt that daemon's visions all have purpose and are moving him forward, i really don't know what to tell you. it's frustrating to see his arc reduced to "daemon is doing nothing all season" because most of it has been internal. both daemon and rhaenyra have grown from the accusations levied at one another in their argument, and i think are positioned well for a reunion that allows them to "finish their conversation" from a place where they are both more able to function within the parameters of their strange and unique relationship as sovereign/consort, husband/wife. uncle/niece, and even brother/sister (as their relationship to viserys is very much reminiscent of siblings competing for their father's love and attention). it's a very clear arc to me, and i am very excited to see how it all comes together in the finale (as well as how this sets the stage for future conflict between them).

(the " but in the book…" arguments about daemon at this point are also weak IMO, because daemon basically does nothing during this section in the book. and because the show has added different dimensions to his character that simply do not exist in the source material. his time in harrenhal is summed up in a couple of paragraphs. the riverlords all honor their oaths without conflict - and he fights in the battle of Stone Hedge, which you can mourn as an adaptational choice you do not agree with, but personally i think it's far less interesting than what we were given in the show.)

this is where i wish the fandom at large would give the writers a little more credit, and extend your faith a little further. sure there are some odd choices throughout, and yes they have taken adaptational liberties you may not agree with - but as we near the end of the season, the overall vision for daemon (and rhaenyra) is clearer, and i think it will be even more rewarding looking back on the season as a whole.

[sapphic-agent]

lmaooo not bryke themselves saying katara loves aang like a babysitter or little brother. it's so obvious in the show that katara views aang like that most of the time.

that's why aang gets so offended when it gets referenced by the ember island players and katara is confused about starting a romantic relationship with aang in the same episode. yet the fandom wants to act like you're insane if you think katara mothered aang and they had a sibling dynamic for most of the series. they really just act like you pulled it out of your ass even though both the text and authorial intent are there.

meanwhile they continuously insist "zutara is siblings coded" when there's nothing in the series to imply that view and bryke have never described their relationship like that. plus, bryke having being so salty towards zutara's popularity means we never will get to see zuko and katara have meaningful interactions in the franchise ever again anyway.

it's so frustrating how katara becoming a couple with aang came at the cost of destroying her relationships with jet, haru, and zuko. basically any guy around her age that wasn't her brother would be sabotaged (with jet suffering it the worst) because they would all be deemed "threats" to kataang.

LMAO I STILL FIND IT FUNNY😭

Bryke defenders get pissy when you point out that them being cis straight white men in the 2000s would obviously correlate to the show's flaws. But this is literally one of the reasons why. No woman wants to be in a relationship with someone she takes care of and views like a little brother. They said this while trying to defend Kataang. I'd almost feel bad if every Kataang shipper I met wasn't exceedingly obnoxious.

Some of them even try to compare her relationship with Aang to her relationship with Sokka. But they're completely missing that a) she grew up with Sokka, b) Sokka treated her like crap while Aang was sweet, and c) Aang was in great emotional pain so of course she was nicer to him.

I don't mind thinking of Zutara as sibling-like, unless you're only doing that to shut down Zutara. I love their platonic relationship, it's one of my favorites in the show.

I will always be mad about Haru, but I'll always be even more livid about Jet. The way Bryke treated him was gross. Especially when Aang threw his name out to shut down Katara's feelings despite the fact that he died helping them. Aang deserves more shit for this idc

[lonepantheress]

♡ txt binge-watching shows w/ their s/o

pairing: ot5!txt x reader

genre: LOL CRACK? fluff i guess

warnings: unserious-ness

a/n: my first try at headcanons......

Yeonjun

like Gossip Girl or PLL or something.

he seems like the kind of person to be really pissed at moments with shitty writing and you’d have to remind him that he eats it up every time.

omg, and he’d start arguments with you about hypotheticals HE MADE based on the show.

like, “y/n, what if me and you met again after 15 years and had kids but we were both single and eligible and hot. what would you do?” “yeonjun, i have no idea. it depends.” “oh, okay. you hate me then?”

he’d be so flip-floppy too. just agreeing with you to agree with you.

“omg.. she’s such a bitch. I hate her.” “I actually really like her character.” “no, yeah, me too. she’s so cool, i love her.”

then when you guys are having real-life drama, he’d get all frustrated about whatever's going on and be like, “this is just like when serena and blair had to fight with georgina.” and you’re like “yes, exactly!”

he’s sweet though, he’d side with whoever YOU’RE siding with just so you guys could have a bonding moment LOL. your faves are his faves (as far as you know..)

Soobin

ok so it is established that he is a weeb

I feel like he would turn on those animes that are like 700 eps and mostly filler and be like, “this is one of my faves!”

and then you can’t complain because he just said it’s one of his faves…

he would try to meet in the middle though and find some that you might also be into

keyword: try

he’d pull out the most obscure show on the most sketchy website with the most incorrect subtitles and be like, “no, y/n, i swear it’s super good.”

and then you give it a chance, and you ask him to explain it.

and he explains it pretty well, but when you ask again he’s getting all emotional about SOMETHING that’s going on and you’re like “???? why…”

you guys will find your fave though and it’s so sweet bc it’s something you guys really look forward to.

you won’t look at spoilers or watch ahead or anything like that. HE TAKES IT LIKE SUPER SERIOUSLY.

and then you guys will get all emotion together and it’s super cute. 

Beomgyu

RuPaul's Drag Race

or like Love Island or the Bachelor or something.

would get super invested in the drama and take sides and everything.

I feel like if you liked someone he didn’t, he would take it personally and be like “BUT WHY???”

he’d fancy himself a prediction god and try to make bets on who will win and who will end up with who.

his real talent is consistently being wrong.

like “WATCH - this time i’m right!”

and then they’re out by, like, the third episode.

or when someone has a really funny or flirty conversation, he’d point to the screen and be like, “Us,” “Omg, that’s so us…” “Why is this lowkey us?”

he’d be DEVASTATED when his faves do not succeed. 

it was clear they’d lose their challenge or whatever but he’s like “WTF????”

but would laugh in your FACE if your faves got eliminated

Taehyun

a show that really takes dedication to watch.

like Game of Thrones or The Walking Dead or Breaking Bad, or something

he would lowkey be pissed off if you watched an episode or two without him, or read spoilers online. 

but then he would accidentally spoil stuff for you and watch episodes without you so…

I could sort of see this going two different ways

he’s like super invested in it and is dead silent throughout the episode, barely looking away from the screen

or he’s watching and he’s like, “oh, she’s for sure gonna die.” and you’re like, “what? no!” and then she dies five mins later.

then he treats the end of the episode like a podcast and talks to you for like an hour about why the characters did what they did, and what you guys think is gonna happen next. 

kind of sweet cuz he would act uninterested at first and then become the most invested.

Kai

those cooking shows, but the ones where they’re really nice to each other.

like the Great British Baking Show, that show is so low pressure….

the contestants would be casually describing some incredibly complex dessert they’re making and he would go, “babe, we could definitely do that.”

no, you definitely could not!

you guys would confidently suck at making predictions, but you suck together! how cute!

“omg those are the cutest cakes ever! She has to come on top this episode!” “no, for sure. she’s been so consistently good!”

and then judging time comes and the cakes are bland, falling apart, undercooked, and burned at the same time. 

and you two are like, “oh…”

he would also suddenly turn into a baking expert, like when someone is doing their thing he would yell at the screen.

“oh my god. too much salt! NOOOO, TOO MUCH SALT!” and you need to tell him to calm tf down.