#to me what's fluffy is the specific ways that they contribute | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

minisugakoobies · 8 months ago

Text

Whipped | KMG

Pairing: Mingyu x GNReader (no agab)

Genre: fluff, idiots to lovers, slightly crack-ish, non-idol!AU

Rating: T

Warnings: Mingyu's a stubborn idiot, but he's also the softest human alive, Minghao's kind of a jerk tbh, use of they/them pronouns for reader, this is honestly just fluffy nonsense meant to give you warm fuzzies

Word Count: 3.9k

Disclaimers: Obviously I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me

Summary: No matter what his friends say, Mingyu is definitely, absolutely, one hundred percent not whipped for you.

A/N: Yep, another Mingyu fic. I can't help it. 🤷‍♀️

Unbeta’d as usual. If you liked this, please let me know! I’d love to hear what you think (but please be kind I’m fragile 🥺) 💕

SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist

Kim Mingyu is not whipped.

This is what he forcefully reminds himself when you walk into Minghao’s party, looking sweeter than a spring day, a phrase which if he’s being honest is maybe a little more poetic than he’d normally use. That’s okay. He can be a little dramatic if he wants. Why not? Seokmin does it all the time and no one bats an eye.

In any case. Mingyu is not whipped.

That’s why he turns his head, pretending he doesn’t see you dazzle everyone around you with your beautiful smile. While he’s pretending, he also acts like he can’t feel his own lips tug upwards at the soft chime of your laughter, a Pavlovian response to your happiness. No, his smile is unrelated to whatever you’re doing. He’s just in a good mood, one that didn’t suddenly ascend to the heavens when you entered the room.

Mingyu’s not whipped.

He sinks further into the couch where he’s sitting, a little off to the side of where Minghao, Jeonghan, and Seokmin are talking. Theoretically, he’s part of the conversation, adding the occasional hum or laugh, but he’s really not contributing much of anything. He’s too busy thinking about you. Not like that.

(But not not like that, either.)

In any case, Mingyu remains firmly unwhipped - solid, unshaken, definitely not falling apart over you. He’ll be absolutely fine, as long as you stay on the other side of the room, where your charms can’t reach him. Except that he can’t stop watching you, and now you’re looking at him, and even though he averts his eyes, it’s too late. He can sense you walking towards him, his heartbeat increasing with every step you take.

Not. Whipped.

“Hey there, stranger.”

Instinctively, at the sound of your voice, he glances up at you, like a flower tilting its face towards your light. He nods at your greeting, mumbling a hello of his own. The others sitting around him all greet you as well, but you merely nod in reply, your full attention on Mingyu.

“Do you wanna tell me why you’ve been avoiding me?”

If Mingyu had a list of things he loved about you, which he does not, being straightforward would be near the top. Of this totally fictional list that does not exist. He admires it, actually, the way you have no patience for dishonesty or deception.

Even though your question is blunt, your smile remains soft as you wait for his response, and Mingyu rethinks his ranking. Item number one on that imaginary list - the way you smile, at him, specifically. It’s so warm, like being hugged by the rays of the sun itself. It makes him happier than he ever thought possible. He wants to curl up like a cat and bask in the feeling. If he’s not careful, he might start purring right now.

He’s totally super normal about you.

“Me?” he asks, stalling for time, praying that a somewhat reasonable explanation falls into his lap in the meantime. He’s only a fair-to-moderate bullshitter, so his hopes are low. He can feel the others staring at the two of you, very obviously listening, because no one in your friend group seems to respect boundaries. It’s not helping. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” you chirp back, and he does, he knows exactly what you mean, just like you know exactly what he’s doing. “You’ve been ignoring my texts. What’s going on?”

What’s going on is that Mingyu is not whipped, even if it feels like his insides are turning to melty goo beneath your inquisitive gaze.

“I’m not ignoring you. I’ve just been busy,” he shoots, aiming for breezy and landing just shy of nonchalant.

“Busy doing what?”

“You know. Stuff.” Oh god, he really sucks at this. “And things.” Jesus Christ.

You fold your arms, and Mingyu thinks it’s cute the way you’re squinting at him, one eye closed as you assess his response. Unbearably cute, actually, and getting worse the longer it goes on.

“Yeahhhh, that’s not good enough,” you inform him, and with one hand on his arm (Mingyu ignores the electric current that lights up his nervous system when you touch him. It’s just static and definitely not anything else), you pull him to his feet and lead him out of Minghao’s apartment and into the empty hallway. He follows, not because he’d follow you anywhere, but because he’s curious.

Once the door is closed behind you, you turn to him, a serious expression on your face. “Gyu. Be honest with me.” Always, he thinks reflexively. “This is about what those guys said the other night, isn’t it?”

Of course you know exactly what it is that has his head spinning right now. The two of you have been friends for ages, but Mingyu still can’t get over how easily you always seem to read him.

A few nights ago, Mingyu and you had been out to dinner with a few others, and it had been like any other time you were hanging out with your friends, lots of laughing and teasing and just being happy dumbasses together. Only on this particular evening, the food had taken a very long time to arrive, but the drinks kept coming in the meanwhile, and you’d gotten a little drunker than usual, and a little clingier, sticking to Mingyu like a magnet.

Not that Mingyu minded having you hanging on his side all night. Nor did he mind keeping a close eye on you, making sure you were drinking your water and eating to help soak up some of the alcohol. None of that bothered him at all - you were his best friend; why wouldn’t he take care of you? Especially when you smiled at him and thanked him for being so sweet, so good to you, over and over.

(He can’t even begin to explain how that made him feel.)

The others noticed. And commented. Mingyu tried to ignore them, but they just wouldn’t shut up. By the time they joked that Mingyu was your trained puppy, suggesting you buy him a pretty collar and a leash to go with it, he’d had enough.

And when he tried to express that, Minghao had shut him down with a scoff, a wave of his hand, and one word.

“Whipped.”

Mingyu admits that he’s a lot of things, but he’s not a whipped man. He’s not. He’s not, no matter what the others say. No matter how you’re looking at him right now, concern etched all over your lovely face, lip tucked between your teeth as you wait for his answer. He’s strong. And proud.

(And maybe a stubborn idiot, but that’s neither here nor there.)

He considers just not responding at all, but he knows how persistent you are, so he settles for a half-shrug. You sigh, leaning back against the wall, arms crossing in front of you.

“You’re being ridiculous, you know that?” you say softly, shaking your head. “They were joking. They said so! And you know I didn’t take it seriously for a second.”

“You didn’t hear everything they said!” he protests, crossing his own arms. You’d missed most of the barbs flying his way that night, too busy enjoying yourself. Which weirdly made him happy. He hated the thought of those guys ruining your night. “They said I was your pet!”

“So? Jeonghan always tells Seokmin he’s got the zoomies when he gets hyper. He knows he’s not actually a dog! It’s just stupid jokes! Our friends are dumb!” you laugh, throwing up your hands. “That’s what we like about them!”

Mingyu can’t help it, he starts to laugh with you, but then he catches himself, shaking his head. “You don’t get it.”

“Then help me understand.”

How can he help you understand, when he’s not entirely sure he understands it himself, this storm inside him, clouding his mind?

“I…” He glances wildly around the hallway, but there’s nothing out here to help him. He can hear the bass from whatever song is playing inside the party, a low, steady thrumming that contrasts the erratic thumping of his heart. “I don’t like being called weak.”

You tilt your head. “Is that what they said?”

“Yeah. Or I guess… they implied it. When they said I was whipped for you.” He lets out a frustrated sigh, knowing he’s pouting and it doesn’t help his defense, but it’s just his default setting. “But I’m not.”

Because he’s staring into your eyes as he speaks, he catches it - the quick expression of sorrow that pinches your brow at his explanation - but it’s fleeting, gone in an instant. If he weren’t watching your face so intently, he would’ve missed it.

“Gyu,” you sigh, the corners of your mouth lifting in what is clearly meant to be a smile, except it doesn’t reach your eyes, and for a moment, the confusing tide of emotions inside him still, and he feels only sadness. That’s not how you smile. “Can you please let it go? Everyone was being an idiot. That’s nothing new! Besides…” You trail off, staring at the floor.

He waits a beat. “Besides what?”

You huff and shrug. “It’s nothing, forget it.”

The uncertainty in your tone unnerves Mingyu even more than your fake smile. Where’s that directness of yours?

“No, tell me. Besides what?”

With a deep breath, you look him straight in the eye. “Besides, I’m not delusional. I know you don’t like me like that. I’m not your type.”

Your voice grows quieter at the end of your sentence, just as the music coming from the other side of the door fades out, and to Mingyu, the silence only amplifies your words, leaving them ringing loudly in his ears like a sonic boom. You’re not his type?

He blinks rapidly, as if that will somehow help.

“You - you’re not - “ He pauses, searching fruitlessly for the end of his sentence, but it’s nowhere to be found.

“Right. I’m not.”

The laugh you let out sounds so fake that he winces, and a terrible realization hits him. You’ve taken his stammering to be a complete thought - a confirmation of what you’d said, that you aren’t someone he’d like like that. Curling in on yourself, arms wrapping around your stomach, you shrink away from him, only a few inches but the distance feels so vast.

“Let’s just forget about it, okay?”

Mingyu’s speechless. As his silence grows, so does the space between the two of you, until you’re standing by the door, hand on the knob. He feels like he should be doing something right now, snapping into action of some sort, but his brain is still stuck on your declaration.

“Okay,” he finally croaks, because it’s clear that you’re waiting for him to speak, and he doesn’t know what else to do but agree with you, because you’re usually right and he usually agrees with you.

“Right,” you say again, but you look slightly unsure, and it rattles Mingyu, making him feel even more unsettled than before. “Okay.” And then you open the door and slip back inside Minghao’s apartment.

Alone in the hallway, Mingyu slumps against the wall. Well. That was a spectacular failure. He’d tried to explain how their comments upset him and all he’d done was upset you. The shift in your demeanor was so obvious to him, a flashing neon sign basically screaming “you fucked up!” in blazing red light.

He gives himself a minute to try to pull himself together, then he returns to the party. As soon as he’s inside, he scans the room, until he finds you standing in the corner, hanging out with another friend, Chan, talking and laughing like everything is fine. Which, as Mingyu feels deep in the pit of his stomach, he knows it is not.

His previously vacated spot on the couch remains open, so he slips back into it, ignoring the curious looks of his friends. He doesn’t want to answer any stupid questions right now, doesn’t want to deal with any of their crap while he tries to wrap his head around what just happened in the hallway.

Naturally, his friends immediately start nosing into his business.

“What was that all about?” Minghao asks, turning to face Mingyu. Seokmin and Jeonghan both twist towards him, eager to hear his answer.

“What was what about?” Mingyu replies, eyes flitting to you again. Chan must be bringing his A game with his jokes tonight, because you’re giggling Mingyu’s favorite giggle, the one that makes your nose twitch like a little bunny’s. It always makes him swell with pride when he coaxes it out of you with one of his dumb jokes, so seeing it right now and knowing he’s not the cause of it, well, it’s not exactly helping improve his mood.

“What was that dramatic exit?” Minghao gestures towards the door.

“It was nothing. We were just talking.” Again he looks at you. And again, your attention is focused solely on the man beside you. Mingyu doesn’t understand. Can’t you feel him looking at you?

“Uh-huh. Sure,” Jeonghan drawls, miming the crack of a whip with his hand. Seokmin and Minghao crack up beside Mingyu, but he doesn’t care. He’s too busy trying to catch your eye. He wants to see you smile at him. Just one smile. That’s all he needs to make him feel better.

His friends lose interest in teasing him when he doesn’t respond, and the conversation moves on. As does the evening. Mingyu bonds with the couch, not leaving except to grab refills of his drink, but otherwise he’s a fixed point in this party, unlike you, who are constantly moving, floating from friend to friend, spreading joy across the room.

Spreading joy to everyone except him, that is. No matter how much he watches you, your light never shines on him again, not like it did earlier. He knows what this is. You’re the one doing the avoiding now. And oh my god does he hate it. He feels cold and lonely, withering away, dying for your attention. For your affection. Because he needs it to thrive.

Oh.

Oh wow, he’s stupid. The others are right.

Kim Mingyu is whipped.

For you, and you only.

Like it has been every few minutes since he returned from the hallway, his gaze is drawn back to you, and this time, it’s different. Because the mask you’ve been wearing all night finally slips, and Mingyu sees the wrinkle of your brow, and the slight downturn of your mouth, and he understands. You’re just as miserable as he is.

That absolutely will not do. He needs to fix this right now.

Mingyu rises to his feet again, not even waiting for Minghao to finish the story he’s been telling, not that he’s been listening anyway, and starts walking towards you. When he’s a mere arm’s length away, it occurs to him that he doesn’t have any plan, just an urgent need to make you look happy again. And also pay attention to him, because he needs your attention just like he needs you, so he panics, and grabs your hand.

You look at him in surprise as his fingers slip between yours.

“Come with me. Please,” he adds, a bit hasty in his anxiousness, already tugging you out of the room and into the hallway. A pair of voices follow you both out, as Minghao and Jeonghan both jeer loudly at the sight of Mingyu dragging you away, but thankfully the door drowns them out, letting only the beat of the music through. Which would be a good thing, except that now it’s just Mingyu and a very quiet you. With your hand still in his.

“Is everything o-”

“You are my type.”

You start speaking at the same time he does, but he’s louder, blurting his entire sentence out before you can finish yours. Your mouth freezes in an ‘o,’ and oh, Mingyu can’t believe what a dumbass he’s been for so long. How did everyone else see it but him?

“I just. Wanted you to know. That you are the type of person. That I like.” Why can’t. He complete. A whole sentence? “Smart, funny, gorgeous….”

You glance away from him, suddenly shy at that last word, and it just reinforces Mingyu’s point.

Unfortunately, it does not make it any easier for him to say what he’s trying to say.

“But you’re not just my type? You’re the person I like. Hao’s right. They’re all right. I am whipped for you.” He frowns. “Damn it, I hate it when Hao’s right.”

That makes you laugh, a quick “ha!” that makes your eyes light up, and Mingyu finds himself feeling stronger, so he doubles down. Might as well own it.

“But he did, he got this one right. I’m down bad.” He brings your entwined hands up, clutching them in front of him, maybe pressing his luck a little, maybe laying it on thick, but it’s barely an exaggerated version of the truth if it’s not pure simple fact.

“‘Gyu,” you groan, rolling your eyes, but there’s a twitch in the corner of your mouth that won’t cease, and it makes his heart sing. “Knock it off. I know what you’re doing.”

“I don’t think you do.” He takes a deep breath and steps forward, backing you into the wall behind you. Your hands are caught between you, and he presses the palm of yours against his chest, wondering if you feel the spike in his heartbeat when you inhale sharply.

“Maybe you should tell me,” you say, eyes wide but voice calm, and again, he marvels at how you strike straight at the heart of the matter, and he decides he can do the same.

“I’m telling you that I like you.”

The next few seconds are the longest in Mingyu’s life. Nothing has ever lasted this long in the history of time. Entire civilizations are built and fall within the blink of your eyelashes. You keep looking back and forth between his eyes, and he hopes that you see whatever it is you need to believe him, and tries his best to convey clearly what he feels. Even if he’s having trouble speaking his thoughts, at least his gaze can express it.

“You like me…”

He nods. “A lot.” Now that he’s said it out loud, it’s hitting him just how much.

“You like me…” you start again slowly, frowning slightly, “but you don’t like it when others point that out?”

“I just - “ Mingyu breaks off, a sharp puff of breath exploding out in frustration. How to explain it? “I didn’t like them saying it the way they did. It… it made me feel like they were calling me weak or something.” Your frown deepens and he stumbles on. “But - but that’s stupid, and I know it’s stupid. And I - I don’t care anymore.”

He clings to your hands, a lifeboat in a sea of turmoil, the warmth of your fingers locked between his giving him hope that this isn’t going completely downhill, this sudden confession of his. It’d be just like him to ruin this with his impatience. He’s always too eager.

“So what do you care about?” you ask, gaze burning into his.

And then there’s you. Always so calm and direct. God, he adores you.

“You. How you feel.”

As soon as the words leave his lips, you lower your eyes, in the briefest of glances at his mouth, and Mingyu feels that electric shock again, tingling all the way to his fingertips. He barely breathes as he waits for you to speak.

“If you really are whipped for me,” you finally say, “you should go tell them that.” You jerk your chin in the direction of the door.

If that’s what you want, then that’s what he’ll do. Without a second’s hesitation, Mingyu spins, his hand gripping yours to pull you back into the apartment with him.

Seokmin gawks openly as Mingyu stomps across the room. Minghao and Jeonghan exchange a glance that last night would’ve set Mingyu spiraling, but now rolls off him like water. Mingyu comes to a stop directly in front of his friends, squaring his shoulders, trying frantically to corral his thoughts into something coherent.

But before he can open his mouth, Minghao leans forward, placing his chin in his hand. “Shhh, guys, I think the puppy’s going to speak!”

“Hao, shut the fuck up.”

Minghao bristles when Mingyu snaps at him. Jeonghan and Seokmin both cackle, but then Mingyu glares at the two of them, and they fall silent. He takes a deep breath.

“I just wanted you to know that I don’t care what you guys say about me anymore, because I like YN.”

The words spill out of him so easily, not even the tiniest nudge needed. He glances at you to find you wearing a delighted expression and his heart goes buoyant again. He decides to ride the wave.

“They’re amazing. I’d do anything to make them smile, so if that makes me whipped, then I guess I’m fucking whipped.”

He’s facing you now, not caring if the others can see the obvious lovestruck look in his eye as he keeps talking, not to them, but to you. Aware that they’re probably all smirking at one another, because they figured it out before he did, but he doesn’t give a single goddamn.

“I can’t get enough of their smile. And the way they laugh. I like how sweet they are. How honest.” Mingyu can’t stop talking at this point. It’s all gotta come out. “But never mean about it. Even when it’s something you don’t want to hear. Especially when it’s something you need to hear.”

Your hand twitches in his with every sentence he states. He squeezes back gently as his statements get louder.

“I’m not kidding when I say I’d do anything to make them smile. I’d walk the ocean floor for them. Climb a volcano and surf the lava down barefoot. Capture a star fr-”

“Oh my god, we get it, you like them!” Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “Enough with the bad poetry.”

“Also? We know.” Minghao snorts. “No need for the dramatic announcement, it’s not news.”

Mingyu barely hears him, too lost in the way you’re smiling at him now. Forget his earlier rankings. This smile beats all the others. Shoots directly to the top of the list, which, now that he thinks about it, he kinda wants to write down and give to you, maybe framed. Or maybe he’ll stick it on his fridge - with a heavy magnet, of course, because it’s such a long list.

He completely loses all interest in the rest of the room, even though he’s pretty sure most of the party is staring at the two of you. Instead, he finds himself hanging anxiously on the breath you take, hoping for you to say something, to give him an indication of where things stand between you now. Because he knows you’ll be straightforward and get right to the point, whatever’s on your mind.

You step closer, close enough for him to feel your soft laugh on his lips as you give him a look that sends his pulse rocketing. You’ve never looked at him like this before.

Forget a list. He’s gonna write a whole book.

“Come on, whipped boy. Take me home.”

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

#seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #mingyu #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #mingyu x reader #svt imagines #svt scenarios #svt fanfic #seventeen fanfic #mingyu fluff #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #fic: whipped

847 notes · View notes

hibiscesque · 2 months ago

Text

Gave my word to OOMF that I would get over my fear of y'all sophistiqué fellas on Tumblr and actually post an analysis here, so here goes nothing.

Mori and Dazai: a noncomprehensive opinion-based analysis of the most talked about parts of their relationship by me, Lily, that has been fleshed out and crossposted from Twt.

[Feat. attached screenshots of some of the interesting contributions others made when I posted this there over the summer at the end, and the links to their Twts so you can check their accounts out if you're on the hellbird app too!]

I figure the best place to start is the place where discussion about Mori and Dazai's relationship often starts and ends: abuse.

It is an unequivocal fact that Mori was in a position of power over Dazai, as his elder, superior in rank, and the doctor who saved him. I wholly agree with this piece of the fandom collective consciousness. I do have a bit of a different interpretation, however, regarding how he used this power.

I do not think Mori lorded it over Dazai to take advantage of him sexually or hurt him physically, and from my reading of it, canon seems to support that. In fact, it was in Mori’s best interest in his relationship with Dazai to do what all the best manipulative abusers do: pretend that this power does not exist at all.

He presented himself to Dazai as Dazai’s equal, a partner in a dastardly scheme to take down the Port Mafia boss. He knew Dazai would say yes—as a disillusioned boy who seemed to have no attachment to his old life, what other answer would he give?—but took deep care to give him the illusion of choice.

Maintaining the illusion that they were equals was very important, as Dazai was older and of an entirely different breed than Yosano. His old strategy wouldn’t fly here. I think this actually displays the versatility of Mori’s manipulative skills, how he was so easily able to adjust between them. Even the narrative of Fifteen, whether this was deliberate or accidental, seems to intimate to the reader that there was not the power imbalance between them that you would expect. It specifically corrects you from seeing Dazai as Mori’s son or charge, seeming to want you—or want you to see Dazai—come to the conclusion that they are, though I use this word very differently than we do when it comes to SKK, partners in crime. But that is absolutely not true. He was a fourteen-year-old playing adult games.

Mori probably figured out pretty fast that Dazai was used to being the best manipulator in the room, and that he was usually incredibly adept at hiding this from the adults around him. It was to his advantage to utilize this fact and let Dazai think that he was the one in control between them, ergo the easy agreement to giving him a painless death later on when he had absolutely no intention of ever granting him that.

That's not to entirely de-dimensionalize their relationship. I do think in some ways, a lot of ways even, Dazai had Mori wrapped around his finger. For starters, we see several examples of him being petulant or defiant to Mori that evidently amuse Mori rather than anger him. Furthermore, I think I can go so far as to say that in the early days, Mori admired Dazai, in a way. Dazai effortlessly lived an existence lacking traditionally defined humanity and empathy, something that hadn't come quite so innately to Mori. He himself hadn't had to cultivate that cold, heartless calculation until the Great War, at which point he got himself so far into this "character", for a lack of a better word, that he played to protect his country, that he'd begun to grossly overcompensate. Become the exact monster he believed he needed to be, though I don't think he'd put it in those exact terms.

But to Dazai, all of this seems to come easy as breathing in the light novels. It must have been fascinating, in a way, to meet what he spent so long striving to become in the form of a fluffy-haired, teenage attitude-filled, lower secondary schooler.

Even the fond admirenvy, however, would eventually become a tool. There's a clear logical advantage to Mori to letting himself feel regarding Dazai to the degree he did where he allowed himself be jerked around a little bit. It would make Dazai more secure in the thought that he was the one in control between them, exactly the belief paradigm Mori needed him to keep existing within to be able to maneuver him to the utmost degree of exactitude when it mattered.

Something else I do disagree with the fandom about, which you've probably been able to ascertain by now, is that Mori, so to speak, birthed the darkness in Dazai. Made him that way. Forced him to be that way. Anything like that.

This darkness, in my opinion, already existed when they met.

I think Mori sensing that, as aforementioned, is part of the reason he chose to ensnare Dazai in his web in the first place. There's a whole other discussion that could be had about the sheer coincidence of acquiring the one child in the world with an ability that could turn off the Deus ex machina we know as Corruption that existed within the second child he would acquire not a year later—and yet another about why the mafia higher ups saw Dazai as a credible witness to the old boss' death—but while no, Dazai would probably have not gone on to become a mass murderer and expert torturer were he not brought into this life by Mori, he was very likely not an angel otherwise.

To me, the adroitness with which he manipulated Chuuya into joining the mafia makes this clear. That is not something he’d picked up within the last year he’d known Mori. Seamlessly using manipulation of that caliber is a skill that usually comes from being exposed to other manipulators from a very young age and/or a natural predisposition toward it. Usually "and". It's still a skill that can be cultivated, whether on purpose or not, but it's not something that's easy to just pick up and learn intuitively unless you're pre-tuned to it for one of those reasons. I also bring up that infamous scene in Fifteen where Dazai empties a magazine of bullets into a dead body. I see many things in that instance, but primarily a hurting and psychologically disturbed child.

While watching the death of the old boss could easily have been a traumatic experience for him, I think we can extrapolate from Dazai’s other aforementioned behavior that one, he’d been exposed to the darker side of society far longer ago than when he’d met Mori, and two, he was at that point, whether by natural means or not, rather stunted in the empathy department. I’m not saying that Dazai is incapable of feeling it—simply that he does not feel it to the degree the average person does. I know a lot of Dazai fans will disagree with me on that, but I do believe this very strongly.

This all comes back to the circle of bonding him to Mori; Mori always presented himself as his equal in that way, after all. While I’m sure Dazai had met more than one unempathetic adult before him, this could easily have been the first time he'd met one who was like him in the sense that their intelligence allowed them the manipulative skills to use this "lack of compassion” to their advantage.

I think Dazai was quickly and, to steal his own word, indelibly fascinated by Mori. We can see that he’s adopted many of Mori’s mannerisms—the most obvious example being using a dramatic shtick to lower people’s guards and make himself appear more harmless. For Dazai that's his ridiculous suicide attempts that will never work and appeals to women for double suicide, and for Mori that's playing the doting, haggard father to Elise. I think they both enjoyed these roles more than they let on, especially Mori, but they do serve a purpose. Correct me if I’m wrong on this, but to this point I even believe I remember a Japanese-speaking fan saying that Dazai copied some of Mori’s speech mannerisms in the untranslated text of Fifteen that were hard to emulate in English.

I think Mori, in his own way, for the reasons I shared earlier on, is equally as fascinated by Dazai as Dazai is by him. Mori is such an enigma, however, that I’m left with a question when analyzing a certain part of canon that I think the answer to depends on how charitably you want to interpret Mori: why didn’t he just kill Dazai instead of ousting him from the mafia?

I think there are two possible answers to this. One, he knew Dazai would be useful to him in the future. After all, he wouldn't be able to use his Deus ex machina more than once without him. And of course, there's Natsume's Greater Plan, the lengths to which Natsume has gone to set dominos in place for I think we're only just starting to grasp.

But then there's also two, that he, against what anyone might expect, cared about Dazai enough that he didn’t want him dead. Perhaps it was even both. I will leave you with that to ponder. Thanks for reading! 💝

& Now... Bonus!

Thoughts from Alli omgdqzai on Twitter:

[CW: CSA, though not in the form of sexual contact between Dazai and Mori]

Thoughts from Pysta pysta_myn on Twitter:

#bsd #bsd analysis #dazai osamu #mori ougai #osamu dazai #ougai mori #cw: abuse #lilris fan era

78 notes · View notes

the-kr8tor · 1 year ago

Note

hi, darling! I come to make my contribution for the fluffy fridays, so here's my proposal: Hobie has a crush with a girl who works in a clothing store and even though he is extremely cool, confident and has very good chemistry, he still doesn't know how to ask her out. There is a colleague of Reader who makes Hobie a little jealous when he hears invite her to the movies, however, it is Reader who decides to ask Hobie out at the end of her turn.

—🫀

Thank you for requesting! Muah 😘

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, Fluff.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Hobie slides over to your station, hands casually in his pockets, looking like one of the models on the store's posters, if you didn't know any better, you'd think he crawled out of one of them. You beam up at him, day brightened by his mere presence. The rack full of punk worthy clothes, shakes slightly when Hobie leans over it, draping his arms laying flat over the metal, head resting over the back of his hands.

"Hello there, loyal customer, what can I do for you?" You use your 'retail voice' but your full grin makes your greeting genuine.

You both know he's not just a customer to you, ever since he accompanied a friend of his to look for an article of clothing, he's been coming over almost everyday with a different excuse each time.

"Need to find a gift for a mate of mine" or "lookin' for a specific pair of socks" or even a "just browsin'" and every time he would leave empty handed, well except for information about you. First time you both exchanged names, second it was your interests until you two are having casual banter like you've known each other for years. Your co-workers have pointed it out to you multiple times, telling you the chemistry between you and Hobie was overflowing with romantic tension.

One of these days the dam will break, the question is who will break it first?

"Just lookin'" Hobie smirks, knowing the tension between you is so thick you need a chainsaw to cut it.

"You can come up with something better than that" you mirror his teasing smile, hands absent-mindedly folding t-shirts.

"Right, let me start again" He stands up straight, dramatically clearing his throat. "Just lookin' for you. Better?"

You chuckle, "much" eyes sparkling, Hobie goes back to his previous position over the clothing rack, twin smiles over your lips, he watches you fold shirts like it's the most interesting thing in the world.

A co-worker and friend of yours has had enough of your longing stares and flirty comments. He takes matters into his own hands with the intention to finally get you two together, or at least get one of you to ask the other out on a date.

He saunters over, a blue eyed blondie with curls worthy of a modeling contract. He's handsome enough to make anyone jealous.

"Hi Jason, you need something?"

Hobie's eyes never leave your form, Jason puts on his best charm for his plan to work.

"Yeah, you" He gives you his best smile that could rival any magazine model out there. Hobie only spares him a glance.

You raise an eyebrow at him, "Manager need me?"

"Nope, I was gonna ask if you're free on Saturday. So are you free?" Your eyes widen, especially your relationship with him is completely platonic, not to mention he's in a serious relationship with his long time boyfriend. You have no idea what's gotten to him.

Hobie sucks in a breath, tucking his hands inside his pockets, "have to go, love." You move your neck lighting quick. "See you" He walks away, giving you a small smile on his way out.

"Hobie–" trying to reach him but it's too late, he's already outside of the store. You look at your friend questionably, pinching his arm. "What the hell was that?" You whisper yell.

"What?" Jason shrugs innocently, "you needed a push"

"Now he thinks I'm into you! I don't even know if he feels the same way"

"Babes, trust me he fancies you. Maybe he also needs the push" he points at the door using his chin. "Go get your man, I'll cover you"

"I hate you so much right now, I had a plan!" You're already speed walking towards the exit.

"No you don't! And you owe me big time!"

The bell rings as you leave the store, eyes adjusting to the light, you squint around, looking for his familiar form. You finally spot him on the other side of the street, but the pedestrian stop light has turned red, cars whizz past as Hobie walks further away.

"Fuck!" You bounce on the balls of your feet, the seconds tick past but not fast enough. You can barely see Hobie from where you're standing, biting your lip, you spot an opening.

You run as fast as you can, feet landing on the other side of the sidewalk, a car almost clipping you. Ignoring their angry honking, you continue to go after Hobie.

Exhaling, you finally reach him, skidding to a stop, almost bumping into him. Hobie turns around at the sudden presence. Blinking in surprise.

"Hobie! I almost died!"

"You alright?" Hobie takes you by the shoulders, his hold tender and caring. You beam up at him through the fog of adrenaline.

"Better than alright" you say breathlessly, fingers twitching to hold him too.

"What are you doin' here?" He peeks behind you, anticipating for your co-worker to come running after you. Hobie finds no one, more questions appear in his mind.

"Looking for you" grinning, you pull him towards you by his belt loop. He smiles at your bluntness. "Go out with me?" You blink in a sudden rush of shyness. "Only if you want to"

"Will blondie be there?" He doesn't miss the opportunity to tease you.

"Do you want him to come with?" You quip back with a laugh. Hobie snorts at your joke.

"He doesn't have to, bet he'll feel like a third wheel." He slides his hand up, cupping the back of your neck softly.

"You're right about that. Offer still stands for you though"

"As long as it's far from the shop."

"I've already got a place in mind" you smile wider.

"You beat me to it, y'know I was 'bout to ask you first" his thumb draws circles over your skin that feels like hearts to you.

"Yes or no, Hobie" you feign annoyance.

He rolls his eyes, grinning through it all. "Yes"

You kiss his cheek, nose bumping on his jaw. "Can't wait"

384 notes · View notes

lucid-loves · 10 months ago

Text

First Light ~ Simon "Ghost" Riley Part 5

Pairing: bodyguard!Ghost x princess!reader (fem!reader)

Word Count: 4.2k

CW: angst, violence, blood, strong language, scars, verbal abuse by parents, physical abuse by parents, psychological abuse by parents, opposites attract, forbidden love, slow burn, fluff, attraction and sexual tension, reader POV and ghost POV, minors DNI, smut, virgin reader, first kiss

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Story Synopsis: After receiving death threats from a mysterious terrorist organization, your royal parents make a decision to reach out to the United States for help. Specifically, they want the US to send a bodyguard to protect their precious princess. When the 141 is called upon to investigate, Ghost is the one assigned to protect you. With your lack of experiences outside of your royal life and his experience with nothing but deadly, worldly affairs, opposites attract.

Chapter Synopsis: You are having a blast doing what you want to do for the first time in your life. However, the longer you live with Ghost, the stronger the tension between you gets. One night, curiosity gets the better of you and Ghost can’t help but satiate it for you.

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Part 7 ~ Part 8

Ghost watched you watching your movie with a slight smirk under his mask. While you have already seen him without the mask a couple of times already, he still felt more comfortable with the mask. Especially since he was technically still working. While he has been having fun watching you run around the safehouse enjoying new knowledge, he still had to stay on his toes. Your life was still in danger as far as he knew.

You were wrapped up in a fluffy blanket on the couch, your eyes trained on the screen that flashed movie scenes that were once banned for you. Since day one, you have been desperate to fit as many banned activities as you possibly could before you would go back, whenever that was. Watching movies was part of those activities along with listening to diverse music, exploring the wonders of the world wide web, and trying new foods that weren’t exactly the healthiest.

In your hands while you watched the movie was a small journal and pen where you took notes. For you, this was more about enjoying the contraband. This was research. You took notes on the cinematography when it came to shows and movies. You took notes on the melodies and harmonies when it came to music. You took notes on ingredients and flavor when it came to new food.

Anything and everything was a research opportunity in some way. And Ghost admired that about you. You weren’t too naive despite growing up the way you did. You picked up on things rather quickly, especially when you were in a groove. Now that you were free, you didn’t hold back in demonstrating just how smart and competent you were. He figured that if you weren’t a princess, you’d be a scientist of some sort.

He suppressed a chuckle as you gasped and jumped from a jumpscare on the screen, the horror movie clearly getting to you. Not that you were silly for being scared. The original Psycho was a fantastic piece of cinematography from the horror genre. The lighting work, the script, the acting, and the camera angles all contributed to creating the creepiest horror movie that has stood the test of time.

You wrote down your experience in your notebook, excited to add to your research. Just before the credits began to roll, Ghost walked over and sat himself next to you on the couch. The couch dipped under his weight, reminding you of how big a man he is. You scooted over, making sure to give him enough space that he took up.

When the credits began to roll, you stretched your arms above your head to help out your back. Ghost stared at how your graceful arms raised up high, how your back arched slightly. He noticed how flawless your skin looked. It was no surprise that you had scarless skin. At the same time, though, you looked unbelievably soft to touch.

Ghost had been thinking about that more often within the past week and a half. It was hard not to think about it as you became comfortable within the space. You wore more casual yet cute clothes, you carried yourself more easily, and you have been more active in maintaining the temporary home. Not to mention that you have been wearing that hair clip he bought you just about every day, exposing the nape of your neck.

He wanted to snake his arms around your waist, pull you close into his lap, and kiss your bare shoulders. The desire passed as you looked at him suddenly. “Would you like to choose the next movie?”

“Me?” He questioned, surprised by your offer. Ghost hasn’t had much time to see a lot of movies. He’s seen the classics and some modern popular films, but his job didn’t exactly allow him time to really indulge in any binge watching of any kind.

“I was planning on choosing a romance to directly compare the cinematography differences since I expect the contrast to be quite stark. However, if you would like to watch something else, I don’t mind.” You warmly smiled, happy to have Ghost join you in your movie binge.

You had been trying your best to give him space since he was still taking his job very seriously. You were also trying to keep your crush on him under control by keeping a healthy distance. Though, you still always craved his attention. You wanted to spend time with him. Get to know him. Now was the time to perhaps learn something new about him.

Ghost held his chin in thought for a moment before grabbing the remote off from the coffee table. It didn’t take him long to find the movie he thought would be best for the both of you. Your small smile turned into a large grin as he started Casablanca.

“Is this your favorite movie?” You inquired curiously.

“It’s the best romance movie in my opinion. Not particularly my all time favorite, but it’s up there and a first choice if I’ll be watching a romance. Besides, it would probably serve as a good film to study alongside Psycho since they’re around the same era of film.” He explained, not realizing how easy it was to talk to you about his personal opinions.

You snuggled back into the couch, getting cozy once again for a new movie. The both of you sat in comfortable silence as the film played, feeling a sense of ease in each other’s presence. As the film progressed, you only became more and more entranced in the wonderful story on screen.

It was hard not to sympathize and empathize with Ilsa. To swoon with her, smile with her, and cry with her. The acting was impeccable. It almost felt real. Especially when Ilsa asked Rick for a kiss for the final time without him knowing. A sharp pain went through your heart as they closed the distance, your notebook and pen falling into your lap. The bittersweet romance made you think of your own inexperience.

You haven’t thought of it much before. Yes, you did read a few contraband romance books here and there. However, there were more important things to you besides finding a partner you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. It wasn’t until the event with the Duke that you began to think about it a little more each night. You were a grown woman. A capable, smart, curious, and slightly rebellious woman. Yet, you still haven’t had your first kiss. It was starting to make you feel like you were missing out on something in life.

“Hey, you okay?” Ghost called out to you, noticing how pained and distracted you were. He paused the movie for a moment so he could completely focus on you.

“Ah, pardon me. I was just thinking about something serious.” You apologized, your cheeks flushing a bit.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He offered, causing your cheeks to turn even more pink. While you have been feeling more comfortable talking to your bodyguard, it was still a little embarrassing to talk about the romantic things on your mind. It was hard to refuse him though. You knew that he was genuinely concerned about you.

Curiosity was getting the better of you too. You wanted to know what kissing was like. If Ghost had ever kissed someone before. He probably has given his age and ability to actually see the world. The image of him kissing someone made you a little sick to your stomach too. Oh god, what if he has a girlfriend back home? Or a wife?!

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your silly anxieties. If this were to be truly resolved, then you needed to speak up. Hopefully Ghost won’t judge you too much. “I. . . I was thinking about how I haven’t had my first kiss yet. . .”

He quirked a brow under his mask, not expecting that confession to come out of your mouth. He didn’t even occur to him before that you thought about those kinds of things. “Something like that bothers you?”

Your cheeks began to feel like they were on fire. He didn’t say it in a judgemental tone, but it was still very embarrassing to admit. “It doesn’t so much as bother me, but I do feel like I am missing out on something. Most women my age have already had their first kiss. Probably a lover. Some may already have children. I know that I’ve been locked away for most of my life so it isn’t my fault. Still though, I can’t help but wonder about it.”

“I can understand where you are coming from. Most people get curious about things like that eventually.” He reasoned, hoping that his understanding would make you feel better. It was obvious that you were getting uncomfortable talking about something like this with him. Your shoulders were tense, your cheeks were pink, and you stared down into your lap where your thumbs twiddled.

“May I ask how your first kiss was?” You pried in a cautious tone.

Now it was Ghost’s shoulders that were tensing up. Besides feeling the instinct of keeping his privacy that he so strongly protects, it also didn’t feel entirely appropriate to talk about his experience with you. You were still a princess by nature. Plus he was still working.

It was hard to say no to you though.

With a deep sigh, he leaned back into the couch. “I was a teenager. There was a neighbor who’s granddaughter came to visit every once in a while. She kissed me one night when we were hanging out. We fooled around until she left to go to college. Haven’t seen her since.”

You bit the inside of your cheek as you listened to his story. A part of you was glad that he left out the more intimate details. Another part of you wanted to know what his true feelings were within those moments. “Were you heartbroken when she left?”

“Not particularly. I already knew what was going to happen by the end of that summer. We didn’t really kiss out of mutual feelings either. It was more so just. . . curiosity.” He elaborated further, somehow finding it easy to tell you about these things than he expected.

“Have you ever fallen in love then?” You asked before you could think.

This caused Ghost to tense up again, his heart skipping a beat. He didn’t know why, but the first thing that came to his mind when you asked was your name. Not even a yes or no. Just your name that danced at the tip of his tongue.

He felt his body grow warm as he swallowed your name down, not ready to acknowledge what it probably meant. “I had a girlfriend several years back. Hard to maintain a relationship with my job.”

“I see. My apologies.” You lowered your head, somehow feeling like it was your fault that your bodyguard can’t settle down with someone. Like you were keeping him away from a lover that didn’t exist.

He noticed how depressed you seemed about his answer. He didn’t mean to make you feel bad. “It’s just part of the job. And I won’t say that I was completely innocent in the breakup.”

You hugged your knees to your chest, unsure how to respond to his confession for a moment. You never really asked about his work before. All you really knew was that he was in the military and was one of the best at his job. Now that you thought about it, though, he probably had to move around a lot. He had to travel all the way to your country after all.

“Did you want to experience your first kiss?” Ghost asked, switching the attention back onto you. The question made your heart feel like it was tripping over itself with how fast it pounded. At the tip of your own tongue, you wanted to admit that you wanted to experience your first kiss with him.

“Um. . .” You hesitated, feeling the butterflies in your stomach turn into a hurricane. It felt like your brain was malfunctioning. Still, Ghost waited patiently for your answer. Silently.

He didn’t mind waiting. It just meant that he got to see just how flustered you were. While he did feel partially guilty for being the reason why you were embarrassed, he also secretly enjoyed it. It was too much of a treat to see just how pink your cheeks could get. It made him want to tease you.

Finally, you raised a hand up to your face to try to cover your blush. You were just getting way ahead of yourself. “It’s not nice to tease a princess, you know?”

He wasn’t expecting you to say something so cute and cool at the same time.

At that moment, Ghost wanted to pounce. Hover his weight above your body and give you a kiss you would never forget. Nibble on your kissable lips while you shivered underneath him. Or he could pull you into his lap and slide his tongue into your pretty mouth. Slide his hands along your waist as he tasted you. You probably tasted devine. Sweet.

He had to bite his tongue hard in order to get his mind out of the gutter. After that, however, he couldn’t help but chuckle. You were so much more full of surprises than he realized.

Your eyes widened as he laughed. What could be so funny? Was what you said really that comical? Thankfully, your bodyguard was willing to explain. “Sorry, Princess. I don’t mean to laugh at you. What you said was just cool. I didn’t expect it.”

The attention went back to you, Ghost clearly not willing to let this go just yet. It was a little strange. You have never seen your bodyguard so playful before. Relaxed. It made your insides feel like they were melting. While you couldn’t see it with the mask, you knew he was smiling. At the very least, you could tell he was through his eyes. “Anyway, do you?”

You almost forgot what you were talking about until he brought it up again. It seemed that you weren’t going to escape this. “Well. . . yes. However, I don’t think it’s going to happen anytime soon.”

“What about with me?” Ghost slipped up. He gauged your reaction swiftly, trying to figure out if you heard him or not. If you didn’t he could save face.

You did hear him though. Loud and clear. It wasn’t like there were many distractions that would cause you to miss what he said. The movie was on pause. There was no sound but the conversation at hand.

This was dangerous territory. Saying no would result in losing your chance to not only experience your first kiss, but also miss a kiss with your crush. If you said yes, then the professional boundary of princess and bodyguard would be broken. That could lead into a whole whirlwind of issues if things were to progress. Or if the kiss was found out.

No, you could keep a secret. You have been keeping secrets for years. There were even some secrets that Ghost didn’t know about yet. You were sure that with his occupation and general character, the lieutenant could keep a secret to his grave.

Could you excuse the kiss for research purposes? Accepting a kiss would satiate your curiosity on the subject. For now at least. Besides, the safest way to explore this was probably with the man that has been keeping you safe. He wouldn’t do anything you weren’t comfortable with or even sure of.

This was your chance. You couldn’t miss it. “If you wouldn’t mind, then yes. . .”

It took everything out of Ghost to not pull you in right then and there. He didn’t even think you would say yes. However, he had to be sure. You had to be sure. “You positive? There’s no taking it back once it’s done.”

You seriously considered it again for a second before nodding, not much more confident and sure of yourself on this. “Yes. Only if you are willing.”

Oh, he was willing. He craved it. Slowly, he took off his mask, allowing you to see the face you didn’t even realize you missed. Your heart picked up speed. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion as a surreal feeling took over. Was this really happening? Your first kiss? With your bodyguard?

As much as you wanted to just keep admiring his handsome face, you closed your eyes, waiting for him to make the first move. You felt the cushions on the couch shift as he moved to a more comfortable position. You felt his body heat become more noticeable as he got closer.

You flinched slightly as his hand cupped your cheek, the feeling of his skin on yours sending fireworks through you. Ghost was feeling the magnetic pull too. Just as he thought, your skin was silky smooth. Your lashes were delicately long and your lips begged to be kissed already. He felt his own heart thud loudly within his chest as he got closer and closer.

He let his lips lightly brush against yours, not wanting to startle you too much. At first contact, your heart soared. Naturally, you leaned forward to really close the distance, feeling your bodyguard’s lips perfectly fitting against yours.

Soft, sweet, thrilling. You wanted more. You really wanted more. Ghost felt the same way as he got lost in the way your lips felt. So perfect. So flawless. Without thinking, he deepened the kiss, pressing his lips firmer against yours.

A subtle moan came from your throat, pleasure spreading across your body. Your lips moved in sync with his, despite this kiss being your first. It was amazing how warm you felt, how sparks flew. It was exactly what your romance novels described. It made you want to try the other intimacies you’ve read too.

As much as Ghost wanted to keep kissing you, he had to pull back. He was getting too lost at the moment. Any more and he could completely lose control. This was meant to give you new knowledge. A favor. He couldn’t enjoy it as much as he was.

The absence was devastating though. As soon as his lips left yours, you felt a terrible pain in your heart. It broke your heart that this could be your first and last kiss with him. Your bodyguard felt that strain too deep within his soul.

He cleared his throat before speaking, trying to relieve the romantic tension that still lingered in the air. “Well, was it what you were expecting? Gonna write it down for your notes?”

You scooted back, creating distance between the two of you. It felt like he was an ocean away. “It was pleasant. I see why people like doing it. I may write about this a little later.”

An awkward silence fell as the both of you tried to ignore the magnetic pull. Ghost scolded himself for getting too close. He really shouldn’t have even entertained the idea of kissing you, but he couldn’t help it. His attraction to the beautiful princess next to him was consuming his mind, body, and soul. The kiss only heightened it.

You reached forward towards the remote and put the movie back on, hoping that this would distract the both of you from your intense attraction.

It helped somewhat as the movie audio filled the silence. However, while your eyes were trained on the screen, your mind was as chaotic as a hurricane. You loved kissing Ghost. You craved it now just like how you have been constantly craving his attention.

This didn’t feel like this was just a crush on your bodyguard anymore.

Bittersweet, romantic music swelled as Ilsa and Rick said their final goodbyes and finally reached closure with each other. Ghost turned towards you once again, watching your reaction to the end. As he waited, he couldn’t help but gaze upon your lips.

You felt his eyes on you, something that you were getting better at detecting. Turning your head to meet his gaze, you realized that he seemed closer than before. Did he move closer without you realizing it? Or did you?

Credits began to roll, the sweet music still filling the quiet. Before he could stop himself, Ghost had cupped your cheek, his thumb gently rubbing your skin. God, you were gorgeous. A princess from another world. Away from his world. Just looking into your sparkling eyes helped him escape the traumas in his life.

On his own, he saw blood, guns, death everywhere. With you, he saw life blossoming from the ashes of the world.

His lips crashed into yours, no longer caring if this was crossing the line. For now, he wanted that temporary escape. That fantasy of being with you. Of you being his.

You closed your eyes as he kissed you greedily, your arms looping around his neck. Your heart threatened to break out of your chest as he kissed you how he wanted. A real kiss. His kiss. You could feel every cell in your body melt under his touch.

His hands moved down to your waist where he lifted you into his lap. Straddling him gave you an exciting rush of pleasure that traveled all the way down to the tips of your toes. Strong, large hands felt you up, sending shivers down your spine.

He nibbled your lower lip for a moment, making you moan not so subtly this time. Taking advantage of the situation, he slipped his tongue into your mouth. The pace wasn’t as greedy as he tasted you further. He slowed down to not startle you. But god damn did he want to take all of you. He wanted to take all of your firsts. This was shown with just how deeply he kissed you.

Your grip around his neck tightened as your tongue slid against his. Your chest pressing against his didn’t help the now sexual tension growing. His body felt amazing. Strong, defined muscles with the perfect touch of softness. True strength and power that has protected you.

You could feel your sex tingle with need.

Ghost pulled back to give you a moment to breathe. He also was feeling himself responding to the sexual tension. It took everything in him not to start grinding into you. The side effect of holding back was gripping your hips tightly to hold you close.

Feeling weak and out of breath, you leaned against him further, your head pressing against his shoulder. As the both of you began to calm down, his grip loosened. His hands now traveled around your back and waist, hugging you to provide more comfort.

Once your breath became steadier, he placed a kiss against the side of your head. He could tell that you were tired now. He did just take a lot of energy from you. “Why don’t you go take a nap in your room. I’ll be getting some work done.”

Your brows furrowed out of his vision. It hurt that he was sending you away so quickly. But, you did need a moment to think. Regain some energy too. With that realization, you then realized that Ghost was just being courteous to you.

Slowly, you got off of his lap and headed to your room, fighting the urge to turn around. At the same time, Ghost fought the urge to pull you against him again. As soon as he heard the closing click of your door, he gave a loud sigh. He was really in it now.

You laid yourself down onto your bed, the phantom touch of Ghost still lingering. It felt like his arms were still wrapped around you. Like his lips were brushing against yours. You rubbed your thighs together unconsciously as you recalled everything about your sudden makeout with your bodyguard.

It didn’t take long for you to bury your face into the pillow, muffling your moans as you touched your slick pussy to the thought of him.

Before you were a princess, you were a woman after all.

205 notes · View notes

olderthannetfic · 5 months ago

Note

Re: discourse about using outliers / the worst examples of a group to justify generalizations-- this is also a problem with the femslash wank asks

I'm one of those filthy f/f folks who actually does want to see more femslash relative to mascslash, but I'm not anti-fujo or a terf or telling ppl to change their own tastes. I'm proship / SALS and kinkmato and I think fujoshi are great; I appreciate their massive contribution to fandom culture including AO3's existence itself

But some ppl seem like they just hate f/f fandoms generally and want a reason to bitch about us? and I've felt super demoralized by it whenever I read your blog lately

Like the complaints about f/f being too wholesome and fluffy and that this is somehow bad?? tumblr is C O V E R E D with cutesey fluffy bubbly m/m art using That Artstyle we all know and nobody complains about it. But when sapphic art is like this suddenly its cause we're boring sexless puritans who dont know what pussy should look like? The huge amount of kinky weird depraved f/f thats out there gets totally erased and the wholesome stuff gets scapegoated as a symbol of regressiveness.

Or the constant lecturing to "JuSt CrEaTe It YoUrSeLf" as if nobody who says they want more f/f would actually be making it??? How do you KNOW they're not making it? Are you stalking the tumblr of every ao3 f/f author to make sure they never expressed the opinion you hate , and vice versa??

Yeah a few awful ppl have been super obnoxious, terfy, or puritanical bullies with how they talk about this topic. But when you constantly bring those people up to demonize talking about it at all it feels like you're creating a taboo around it because you want those annoying lesbian feminists to shut the fuck up. Cause how dare we, right? How dare we express desire for something in a way that reminds you patriarchy exists.

You won't even let us express that we're bitter or sad about feeling like a minority even amongst other queer women. You won't let us express simple jealousy without interpreting that jealousy in the most terfy antiship bad faith way possible!

I won't defend those who actually harass ppl or moralize over ships. I won't defend anti-fujos. But when you constantly lump me in with those people just because I looked at AO3 stats and went "Hmmm, it would be cool if this was more balanced :/" or whatever it feels like you just don't want me to say anything at all

Is this about me personally? Yes, I agree that topics that are repetitive start to feel like an attack.

But with regards to AO3 stats, this is my pet peeve, as you probably know if you read here often, and I'm unlikely to stop being angry about it.

AO3 is extremely unusual in the history of fandom for being a very big, very multifandom site that is not m/m-specific but where m/m outnumbers other things. There have been large-ish slash archives before. There have been and still are other large, multifandom archives, from FFN and Wattpad, which are in AO3's weight class, to medium size ones like MediaMiner. The spaces that aren't m/m-specific generally have f/m vastly outnumbering m/m. They also make it harder to get stats than AO3 does.

I don't have an issue with people looking at overall fandom stats and complaining that f/f has the short end of the stick when it comes to fanfic broadly. I do object to people pulling only AO3 stats and going "The one anomalous clubhouse that looks like this is the problem" and pointing at m/m.

It's the same problem you point out, just in another direction. After being told "Okay, but the amount of m/m..." constantly for years, people are fed up and never want to hear it again. Even if it's phrased nicely. Even if the person saying it is also hurting.

61 notes · View notes

rune-rambles-art · 7 months ago

Text

Okay I have to yell about Koleda Belobog Zenless Zone Zero because I feel like I love her in a very specific way that I haven’t seen a lot of people talk about. More under the cut because I have,,, so many thoughts.

Koleda is such a good portrayal of someone who struggles with their perception as an adult. A pretty easy conclusion to make with the first thing she usually says on the character select screen being “Hey, don’t look down on me!”, but it definitely goes a lot deeper the more you spend time with her. Specifically, she seems to struggle in her perception of herself as someone much more mature than her younger peers, but still not on the same level as the adults in similar positions of power as her. I kinda. Hate zenless for not explicitly stating how old she is, but given she rose to her position at Belobog “when she came of age” (which honestly, I still can’t give a concrete answer to what hoyo means by this? Some searches I found claimed the working age to be 16 in China, I’ve seen others online claim 18 but that’s not reliable. Hoyo I'm begging you put official ages on your characters it's a cool and based practice), she waited for a significant amount of time before taking up her role as president. She is an adult from what the game implies, and a core part of her character is fighting against the constant infantilization she faces due to how she looks.

Let’s start with her love of desserts (and a honestly this is the reason I started writing this). It’s her most highlighted character trait (it is also the first known attribute in her trust rank profile when you unlock her), and most of her trust events on 6th street revolves around them. Initially, she hesitates in proclaiming her love for them, likely to avoid being perceived as childish.

Her rank 4 trust special event is, admittedly, my favorite, but it’s one of the best breakdowns of this.

In order to maintain her image as a mature adult, she uses her position as company president to get around having to request a special dessert drink by name (in her defense, "Sweet Girl Fluffy Marshmallow Lambkin Milk" is an insane mouthful of a product name). At the end of the event she admits that saying its name “wasn’t as bad as she thought”, but her initial kneejerk reaction was a complete rejection of even entertaining the idea of doing something that could put the image she worked so hard to create and maintain at risk. Despite this, she still refuses desserts that aren't tooth-rottingly sweet, even if they are seen as the more mature or "refined" option. It's only around people that she really trusts does she allow this part of herself to be known, because she knows they wouldn't misconstrue this behavior as childish.

I also think her perception on the differences between kids and adults is interesting ("thank you agent story quest" we all say in unison). She doesn't ever feel like she fits in with other kids, probably due to all the responsibility she had to take on as the eventual heir to her father's company. But she also holds a vocal distain for many of her adult peers. Her declaration of "When I was younger, I thought the whole world was rotten, trying to make people just as rotten when they grow up." is a reflection of how she struggled to find her place in the world as she was forced to suddenly transition into adulthood, while still trying to understand the actions of the adults around her.

Her relationship with her father becoming strained contributed significantly to her world outlook as well, and may have caused such a specific distinction of what she deems "the world of adults". I don't want to dive too specifically into that because spoilers and the game is only a few weeks old so. Pin that for another time maybe? It definitely matters in the sense that the loss of her father is the catalyst for the loss of her childhood, but a lot of the specifics in how that affected her are speculative (and I don't wanna get too headcanon-y in this particular post) and she explicitly chooses not to discuss it too in-depth with the proxy (which, girl. Valid). But she's slowly learning to cope with that loss, at least it seems that way by the end of chapter 3. Honestly I could probably find more to add about the agent story in particular, but I would have to replay it to get a better idea.

To me, Koleda Belobog is very solid representation for women who had to grow up too fast, struggle with the perception of being seen as an adult, and hold guilt about indulging in acts that can be perceived as childish by their peers because they never fully got the chance to just be a kid. It truly did resonate with me, and it feels like such a specific "if you know, you know" kind of experience that I don't feel is talked about as much in media, especially with people who identify as female during their youth.

Also, also! I hope they dive in a bit more on how she got/has so much hollow corruption at a young age. Because they imply that she is so short as a result of this hollow corruption. Like that's so damn interesting conceptually and I know they delved on it more in Rina's agent story but. It was more of a mental affliction than a physical one.

Anyway I've been working on this for like 2 days now but that's all I have in terms of like. A canon-compliant character analysis.

TLDR; Koleda is such a perfect example of "God forbid short women exist" and I love her for that. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

#koleda belobog #koleda zzz #zenless zone zero #zzz #rune's rambles #character analysis #Genuinely. She makes me insane I love her so much #Koleda belobog I will be your biggest truther #forgive me I'm still figuring out how to tag posts #I may do more stuff with her in the future but it will. Probably lean on some headcanons and probably (definitely) some ocs #Just. Know that I love the Belobog Heavy industries family very dearly

52 notes · View notes

neiptune · 9 months ago

Text

a series of (un)fortunate drivers

cw: 1k wc, gender neutral reader, fake dating trope, roommate to lovers, they're both idiots (affectionate). sponsored by the ever generous @yellow-sword-lily who decided to trust my writing and contribute to the wonderful @ficsforgaza initiative!

“Does it hurt?”

Atsumu is met with a familiar, stubborn silence that prompts an exasperated sigh. You’re being awfully quiet for someone who’s chest is pressed to his back, close enough he can smell the shampoo that actually acts as shampoo (he learned that, apparently, a 3-in-1 body wash is indicative of not knowing how to take care of his own needs on approximately day two of living with you).

He knows you’re perfectly capable of not uttering a single word the entire way home, just as you know he’s keeping his pace slow to minimize your bouncing and reduce the discomfort to the best of his ability. It makes you want to strangle him.

“Blink once if it hurts” Atsumu turns to the side and his caramel gaze takes yours by surprise for just a second before you decide to resolutely focus on a specific spot on his shoulder.

“You’re the most ridiculous person I know” he balances you better against him with a small hop and you swallow the petty comeback already dancing on the tip of your tongue.

Truth is, it does hurt. Your ankle is swollen, probably about to bruise, an annoying circumstance that could’ve been well avoided if not for a couple of drivers that worked against your luck to progressively fuck your evening back-to-back: a) Hinata convincing you that a pair of chunky sneakers would be an excellent investment, b) the decision to wear said inappropriately chunky sneakers, c) Atsumu ignoring how excessively flirty the woman at the bar was being (one can estimate the impressive size of his biceps without necessarily squeezing his arm multiple times), d) the spirit of an immature six year old that decided to suddenly possess you at the sight, causing you to make up a dumb excuse to storm out before Suna and everyone else could even get there to begin with.

The heated march was soon and quite harshly interrupted by your ankle turning in an awkward way, causing you to even more awkwardly tumble onto the goddamn sidewalk right as a bottle blond pro athlete was forced to drop everything (drinks, friends, excessively flirty woman) to chase you down the street.

You insisted you could’ve walked (not true) or called an uber (also not true, you forgot your phone on the kitchen island) but, with the utmost care and deaf to your objections, Atsumu collected the things scattered on the asphalt the same way confusing thoughts are dispersed around your brain still, checked your ankle with furrowed brows and sentenced you to a piggyback ride home.

He refuses to let you slip off his back as he kicks off his shoes, rolls his eyes when you scoff and makes his way to the couch by which he carefully bends down to gently place you against the throw pillows.

“Don’t” Atsumu swats your hand away when you attempt to lean forward “I got ya” he rolls your sage green linen pants all the way up to the knee and attentively unties your shoes. You suck in a sharp breath between your teeth when he removes the sneaker, warm hand supporting your leg by the calf. A fluffy pillow is placed on the coffee table and underneath your foot, an admonishment to hold still mumbled with affection as he disappears into the kitchen to rummage through your freezer.

“I can do it” you accept the ibuprofen but protest firmly when he sits on the table, ice pack in hand.

“I know ya can” Atsumu offers a smile “but let me”

Defeated, you hiss at the contact: the skin feels so tender even grazing it with a finger would hurt. He knows, he’s had his fair share of injuries throughout his career.

Atsumu is more observant than what people give him credit for. He knows exactly when everything changed, the night that shifted the precarious equilibrium of your roommate relationship. It wasn’t when he suggested you’d fake a relationship for a while, just to get his PR team to shut the fuck up and stop trying to pair him up with some unknown model just for the sake of it. Can’t, I already have a partner. You were happy to accomodate his request: some pics for social media, a few shots of intertwined fingers and steaming bowls of ramen. Always his treat. Atsumu promised he’d take over the cleaning activities you hated the most for two entire months in return. You would’ve been free from dusting, scrubbing the bathtub and washing dishes (he’d insisted on laundry too but you simply weren’t going to risk all your whites turning pink).

No, it was Suna’s birthday that changed everything. The night you both had a little too much of that fancy wine and ended up sharing a drunken kiss with you perched in his lap, eager fingers in his hair, kissing with little to non existent restraint. It felt so good, so right, he could only think he wanted to do it again, when sober. And now, after acting like that never even happened for an entire week, your little tantrum makes him think that perhaps you’d like to do it again too.

“I think we should stop, ‘Tsumu” you murmur, eyes kept low when he looks up from your ankle.

“What are we stoppin’?”

“The whole thing. Tell your team you’ll do what they want”

He cocks his head, seemingly imperturbable. ‘Samu would be the only one capable of sensing how fast his heart is actually beating. “Why would I do that?”

“Why would you not do that?” you finally meet his stoic gaze “let’s just stop now before anybody’s feelings get hurt, okay?”

“Ya think I’d do that?”

“I didn’t say…”

“What are you saying, then?” Atsumu leans forward to gently grab your jaw, forces you to look at him “all I’m hearing is you’re worried about yer feelings. Whatever we are going to do with mine, right?”

You jump a little at the unexpected words and he rolls his eyes. It’s just so typical of you to be all lost in your own head, too buried in futile concerns to notice just how unnecessary they are.

“Let me tell ya what I think we should actually do” Atsumu makes sure the ice pack stays in place or is at least balanced enough to stay on as he slides from the coffee table onto the couch “I think you should stop assuming I’d be interested in anyone who's not you” he offers a grin that suppresses your heated remonstrance before you have the chance to voice it “and I should take you out on a proper date. Maybe to one of those museums ya love so much. Blink once if you agree?”

He’s ridiculous. Maybe ‘Samu’s initial warning “it will rub off on ya” wasn’t such a senseless prediction after all, because you do blink. Slow, deliberate. And Atsumu smiles the most beautiful smile: it’s much better than the ones that win him magazine covers and sparkly photoshoots. This one’s all yours.

You lean forward first, the ice pack slips from your ankle to the floor.

#atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu x you #fics for gaza

135 notes · View notes

lebbys-world · 10 months ago

Text

Girls Night

Class 1-A Girls + fem!reader; platonic/best friends relationship, fluff, childhood nostalgia, mentions of growing up (thematically), sleepover clichés !!

notes: ive been listening to a lot of those mha youtube playlists recently? and they’ve been getting me in the mood for some fluffy friendship clichés !! wishing my friends would do this kinda stuff with me fr, but we’ll cope thru some self-indulgent fanfiction instead :’)

heres the playlist i was listening to while writing this -> https://youtu.be/C8-H_hBd2rY?si=6Kjg5temq2wCsv_R

You sat in the common room of the dorms, your favorite pair of pj pants adorning your legs.

The commons were currently booming with laughter and music, chatter bouncing from wall to wall.

With UA having finally decided to give you hero students a “rest week,” the class 1-A girls (more specifically, Mina) deemed it essential to have a sleepover at least one of the nights.

So, here you were, embracing the loving chaos around you.

You leaned forward on the couch, reaching with one hand to try and grab your phone, but were yanked back by the invisible girl trying to finish doing your hair.

“Y/N, I told you to SIT. STILL.” Tohru said, poking your back jokingly.

“Fine, fine,” you whined, resuming your position against the couch, a smile forming on your face. “I was just trying to check something real quick-”

“You can check it later!” Mina shouted, “Now's our time to have fun! And we better be enjoying it to the fullest after all that arguing I had to do with Aizawa-sensei!”

Through her shouts, you can see her dancing to the soundtrack you’d all contributed to.

Although everyone wanted to pitch-in with some of their favorites, Kyouka inevitably had the last say in what would make it to the final product.

And, at least to you, she’d done a pretty good job.

The songs blaring were all nostalgia-ridden, upbeat, and reminded you of some distant childhood memory that you couldn't quite recall.

As you watched Mina dance to her heart's content across the room, you thought for a moment that you could almost see a shadow of your younger self dancing along with her to these songs.

Sitting on the ground below you, leaning against the couch, Momo laughed at Mina’s antics while carefully touching up the polish on Ochaco’s nails.

“I’m sure Aizawa-sensei doesn’t mind our little party, as long as we clean up properly in the morning.”

“Maybe we could convince the boys to clean up for us,” you joked.

“No way!” Ochaco giggled back. “I can imagine Bakugo’s screams already.”

You could imagine the blonde busting out his lungs before you even finished asking your question to him,

“Maybe we just don't ask him,” you suggest.

Suddenly the weight on the couch shifted, as Mina plopped down beside you, grabbing a sip of water before adding to the conversation.

“Trust me, I don't think any of those boys will help out voluntarily.”

The topic carried on as you girls debated who, out of the 1-A boys, would be kind enough to help you clean up come morning.

Although some decisions were unanimous, several times a few of you would get into mock-arguments, standing up for your "knowledge" of your peers.

As things between Kyouka and Mina were getting intense over whether or not Kaminari would help, the sweet smell of delicious food suddenly came wafting towards the group.

You looked over at the hall to see Tsu standing there, returning from her earlier escapade to the kitchen.

“I thought we were missing some snacks, so I made what I could. Ribbit.” Tsu chimed, holding a tray filled with an assortment of you girls’ favorite treats.

“TSU- YOU. ARE. THE. BEST!” Tohru squealed, releasing her death grip on your hair.

You saw her onesie race towards the snacks instantaneously , and took that as a sign that your new up-do was likely complete - for now, at least.

With all your mouths full of laughter, messed up song lyrics, and half-eaten snacks, the night carried on until sleep eventually caught up to you all one by one.

As you finally flopped onto the couch, eyes fluttering asleep, you found yourself grateful for the night you'd had.

This is what little-Y/N always dreamt of. Thank you, my best friends.. for making this dream of hers come true.

That night, you went into your night of dreams with a smile on your face, and with a little girl watching you from a distance, smiling and over you from afar.

all fictional works are for entertainment purposes only. all rights to characters, media, references, and other third party materials belong to their respective owners. do not repurpose, modify, copy, or repost my work to other sites without permission. © @lebbys-world 2024.

banners from saradika-graphics

#sleepovers were such a big deal for me as a little girl #i blame 2000s movies for making them seem so cool #i think little me would freak out if this happened irl tho #class 1a girls #mha class 1a #ochaco uraraka #tsuyu asui #toru hagakure #mina ashido #jirou kyouka #momo yaoyorozu #bnha fluff #bnha x reader #mha x reader

80 notes · View notes

atiny-for-life · 1 year ago

Text

Ateez's Full Storyline Explained - Part 21

Masterlist

Before we begin...

I'd like to shout out @xuseokgyu's gifset on the MATZ MV since I adore her analysis and I really do think it might just be the real-life message they meant to portray. It was also one of the contributing reasons for my initial belief that the unit MVs were unrelated to the storyline.

MATZ (A-World)

Initially, due to the announcement that this takes place in the A-World, I was going to propose the theory that this MV takes place prior to Fever Part 1 - a flashback to Hongjoong and Seonghwa performing as a rap duo before they met Yunho and the rest and became Ateez, but I just couldn't figure out how all the robed cult-like people fit into this narrative... and then it dawned on me:

Halazia.

We saw the bluebird at the end of Crazy Form and the shattered Cromer which means the Halazia-squad has been traveling between Worlds and may likely have ended up in the A-World along the way.

I'm not gonna lie: I first thought of this because of Hongjoong's fluffy hat which reminded me of the one he wore in Halazia but once I had it in my brain, I couldn't help but notice various other similarities.

The abandoned building?

Reminiscent of the abandoned mall we grew all too familiar with during that funky little livestream before the release of Halazia.

All the chains randomly hanging from the ceiling?

Reminiscent of the ones they were dragging around in Halazia to chain up the orb.

All the people in robes willingly following them around to commit random crimes like robbing a small store?

Their version of the Black Pirates, aka the robed folks we already saw in Halazia.

Bro, they even brought back the purple lighting and specifically made fun of me personally because I'm too dumb to figure out the meaning behind these numbers.

(I'm kidding, of course, but it really isn't my fault I'm a dumbass.)

All this to say: these two are neither Hongjoong and Seonghwa from Ateez, nor the Black Pirates we've come to know and love, but rather the two we've only met briefly during one of the sickest goddamn MVs I've ever seen while they were performing the most spiritually and spacially transcendent songs I've ever head like holy shit, Halazia still slaps so fucking hard, how did they even come up with this.

Anywho - with this in mind, we can watch the video again and gather hints as to what they're up to in the A-World (besides committing minor felonies here and there).

We begin as follows:

They've ordered one of their people to fasten a tracker to the underside of a black car prior to their arrival on the scene.

Several black-cloaked figures then enter the car and drive away before we cut to the title card.

Matz exit the building and get into the car which is now no longer occupied by at least the two people in the front seats which means there's a small timeskip where we don't know what happened with the car's occupants. I'll get back to this in a moment.

We now see Matz take the front seats right before they get black bags pulled over their heads from the people hidden in the backseat. Clearly, they're not very surprised by this. They knew it would happen. It's part of the plan.

They get chained up and stuffed in the back and taken to a secondary location. (Take note of the blue-and-earthtone palette we've last seen in Halazia.)

Keep in mind that this is a vehicle their own people are able to track. This tells me it's not just the creeps who are after Matz - Matz are also after these creeps. Now, who would Matz have beef with in the A-World, a world they've never been to before?

That's right: Henry Jo, the leader of Skienslavar, aka A-World's Z whose straight up evilness has led to the brainwashing and mass-murder of a huge amount of people in Z-World and, even more so, in their own world where the rebellion failed entirely.

Matz are currently on a mission to take down A-World's Skiensalvar before they can do as much damage as they did back in their own world. And it's this mission that then also leads them, alongside the rest of the Black Pirates, to other worlds as we will see in the future.

Henry Jo last saw Ateez at the museum when they were trying to steal the Cromer to save Yeosang in the Fever Epilogue Diary Entries - hell, he even tried to straight up stab Wooyoung to get his hands on that thing. Naturally, he then also wouldn't shy away from kidnapping any of them to get the current location of the Cromer out of them.

This explains why they're tied to a chair and surrounded by cultists from all angles.

Right after this shot, we get to see yet another group with black hoods march up into the same building. However, unlike the ankle-length robes of the cultists, they're dressed in black pants and hoodies, leaning more toward techwear

They're the Black Pirates who've been tracking the black car they tagged at the beginning of the MV and they're here to free their two kidnapped leaders

Specifically, the Black Pirates head out the moment Seonghwa makes eye contact with one of the cultist's camera lenses, which I can only assume means that this messed-up cult is livestreaming their kidnapping of two young men in their mid-twenties

Likely because they're hoping either of them will say something that will reaffirm the cult's beliefs and thus validate them in the eyes of whatever audience they're trying to reach

Right after this moment, Matz break the chains binding their wrists and jump up from their chairs

We can then see them perform in the same location with some of the other Black Pirates - thus also utilizing the livestreaming equipment that was already set up to, presumably, try to undo whatever harm the preachings of the cult may have done to the current viewership

After leaving the area, Matz seem to teleport out of the premises which is indicated by a negative frame, followed by some skipped frames to create a nice flowy movement out of frame to the right that feels unnatural but seamless

Right after, we get another transitional frame from Matz in the outfits they've been wearing all along to just Seonghwa in a more fancy gold and fur get up

Along the way, we also get to see Matz run through an empty parking garage while some of the other Black Pirates are slowly wandering through a little music store

They're simply looking at all the CDs in the shelves - something they've never seen before after they've been denied access to music their entire lives back in their world

And then Matz arrive and start tearing up the place.

But why? I think it might just be in their character.

When we saw them in Halazia, they were burning their own form black uniforms and now we see them tearing up a store selling the music they once tried to use to form a rebellion. An effort which failed.

They're struggling psychologically, they're traumatized after watching their world fall into the hands of Z, they feel angry and frustrated because they failed to safe their home despite doing everything right: they gathered so many people, organized them, held performances, used music to wake them up and yet... It wasn't enough.

And now, they're risking their lives for alternate versions of the people they failed to safe. And those people will never know how much they did for them.

We already know how different Ateez are from their Z-World counterparts - due to them growing up in A-World, they're more calculated, less provocative, less extreme (Inception vs Thanxx, Guerrilla vs Crazy Form).

Halazia's Ateez seem to be an even more extreme version of Z-World's Ateez - more volatile, maybe even more aggressive, certainly less open to making new friends from what we've seen so far.

This is certainly also highlighted when we listen to the newscaster reporting on a case of two men who mysteriously disappeared after committing arson.

Those two little shits legit set a fire and teleported out of there so they wouldn't get caught... After all that fire in Halazia, I genuinely believe these guys are serial arsonists.

In conclusion: I'm fairly confident in my theory and I think we'll be seeing these crazy guys again very soon; be that with another single or the next Korean mini or full album (though I would also very much appreciate a Japanese comeback tied into the main storyline - they're always underappreciated with any group, it seems).

#ateez #ateez lore #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #will - the world ep fin #matz mv #the world series

38 notes · View notes

theodysseyofhomer · 1 year ago

Text

this is not to single anyone out, but i have a lot of new followers, and i would just love for you all to know... the search function on my blog is operational. if you search for epic the musical, you will find that i have dabbled in it. it is slightly annoying to be asked over and over whether i've heard of it, even by lovely, enthusiastic, friendly people.

i have another reason for not answering those questions, which is that when someone is being enthusiastic and friendly to me, i don't want to be mean to them. but if i'm going to speak from my heart as an odyssey lover, i don't think epic the musical is that good. it doesn't especially interest me as a standalone piece, but i also don't find it provides much insight on, or compelling points of comparison with, homer's odyssey. i'm glad you're all having a good time! please stop asking me about it.

bullet point review below the cut, for those who are more curious about my opinions.

things i like about epic:

astyanax's murder doesn't get brought up a lot in stories that are sympathetic to odysseus. it's optional when adapting the odyssey or the iliad, but i am definitely of the opinion that odysseus did it, and even if he didn't, he convinced the other greek leaders that it needed to be done.

the athena/odysseus duets.

i found the reframing of polyphemus' blinding compelling, where he's doing the same thing he does in the odyssey for a different reason. i also liked that the audience doesn't learn his name until he reveals it to polyphemus. that's a neat touch.

earwormy as hell.

the fanart! i saw odysseus fanart maybe 3 times a year before the troy saga dropped. i'll take that trade (for my sanity when i try to navigate the tags).

jorge seems to be invested in odysseus/penelope, which is like the bare minimum to hold my attention, but still.

anyhow jorge seems charming; all his videos and interactions with fans seem nothing but excited about what everyone can contribute. commissioning wolfy to animate a trailer? widely regarded as a great move.

things i don't like about epic:

as gutsy as i think it is to start with astyanax's murder, the main thing to me is not whether his hands physically threw the baby, but whether he is in some way responsible for it. more than that, astyanax's death isn't divinely mandated: it's a ruthlessly pragmatic preemptive strike against vengeance that the greek leaders are afraid of. it's 100% human. so framing it around zeus, known troy stan, forcing odysseus to do it and he feels so so bad about it ????????

baffling to me to start with a moral conflict about infanticide, and after committing it, odysseus is still like... maybe kindness is brave? maybe i'm not a ruthless person? please be serious. you murdered that baby.

(been talking to @littlesparklight about this but you could have started out with some version of sophocles' ajax, a death caused by the gods that odysseus actually is complicit in when he didn't necessarily want it to happen. i digress.)

don't like the way the fandom talks about astyanax, specifically, as if odysseus raising a kidnapped trojan boy whose people were destroyed and whose mother was sold into slavery in another land is ever going to be a fluffy au and meanwhile odysseus did very much murder that baby, so!

the songs are not... good. like i said, they're earwormy, but that's also because they're repetitive and predictable. the lyrics are distractingly bad at times, not only from a character perspective, but in the sense of using words wrongly or awkwardly to try to fit them into a rhyme scheme.

i like the reframing of the polyphemus episode. not so much the aeolus one. at that point, you have odysseus doing the opposite of what he did in the odyssey for opposite reasons, which makes him a character bearing no resemblance to odysseus at all.

and this happens while other characters (mostly gods) try to drag him kicking and screaming into his actual homeric characterization.

like, odysseus is haunted by the war in the odyssey, but not because he regrets what he's done as a moral injury. he chose violence on purpose. the gods did not force him to be this person. it's a narrative throughline that serves only as a bid to make odysseus more sympathetic.

... and in doing so, strips away his agency — in sacking a city, in lying and obscuring the truth with his crew (his lies are more than a quirk that endears him to athena, they have consequences!) — some might say his personality. i do have sympathy for odysseus, even at his worst moments morally, because i find his character as a whole compelling. you don't need to try to absolve him of these things! they tell you about what kind of person he is! they are evocative (and provocative) already! take them away and he is boring, because he is not choosing to do anything.

the new wave of odysseus fans seem unable to handle homeric odysseus' complicated aspects and character traits, and to a degree i blame this on the musical characterization. it's allowed to be its own thing, certainly, but now i regularly get people arguing about whether he's a good person when all they know is something epic made up and that was never the fucking point, anyway.

are we really going to pretend he didn't have sex with circe and calypso at all

#anna.txt #a tag for bitching

51 notes · View notes

millenari · 4 months ago

Note

Give me your mistocavity headcannons pls pls

I like the idea of Misto and Macavity finding something in each other that they don't get anywhere else, even in a platonic context. They share a lot of parallels with each other that the other cats don't have, and I like the idea of them being connected somehow. By fate or the Everlasting Cat or something like that-- I've seen hcs where Misto was made as a punishment or counter for Macavity specifically and I kind of like that.

Also theres something kinda funny about 'this guy was made as a personalized cosmic punishment for my evil deeds & represents everything I could have been if I hadn't decided to be so self-serving and cruel. we bone sometimes.'

Misto can actually be pretty brutal, though you may not get that impression from him if youve read my gold rush fic. He's pretty susceptible to ideas like justice and rightful vengeance, and is rarely upset inherently by the sight of violence.

However if he thinks a situation isn't Right, he'll stop at nothing to prevent it from happening, so Macavity has to be careful about what he lets Misto see. Not because Misto's a delicate flower who'll change opinions of Mac if he sees him Do A Violence, but because Misto will come out guns blazing if he thinks Macavity is being an asshole, and Misto's basically the only cat in London who can rock Macavity's shit if he so desired (without suffering major damage in return, that is)

On that note, by virtue of being able to teleport, Macavity cannot force Misto to do anything or keep him anywhere.

This pisses him off so fucking bad.

This makes Misto very smug.

The only way Macavity can 'make' Misto do anything is by virtue (virtue?) of manipulation, which unfortunately for Misto he tends to be pretty susceptible to. They are constantly playing 4d chess with each other, and Misto tends to assume anything that comes out of Macavity's mouth is at least 30% untrue and 80% said with an agenda.

Weirdly though, he finds that kind of freeing. Misto struggles with implication sometimes and worries a lot about being patronized/misled/etc by his peers pretty much constantly. But with Macavity he knows Mac is trying to fuck with him, so it kind of just takes all of the worrying about if it is happening right off the table.

When Macavity is being Relatively Normal he frequently reminds Misto of Tugger and it kind of freaks him out.

That being said, they tend to enjoy each other's company in good times. They have a similar sense of humor, and Misto's (fairly small) mean streak sometimes lines up with Macavity's.

Macavity kind of has this vision in his head of his Ultimate Relationship which is kind of this unconventional throuple-slash-harem with him, Misto, and Demeter- but he knows it wont ever happen because if he ever successfully captures Demeter Misto will let her go. So if he wanted to keep Demeter he'd have to run Misto off first.

So his options are either have all of Demeter (only if he succeeds in taking her) or have, like, half of Misto willingly. It's a constant conundrum for him.

Due to his particular singular focus and trend towards obsession Macavity will frequently neglect grooming himself (those uncombed damned whiskers) and due to being an insane neat freak Misto will just follow him around and comb through his tail or whatever. so youll have macavity getting a Mission Report from Henchcat #253 standing there Menacingly with his arms crossed but right behind him is this small man who's holding up all 35 billion metric tons of his fluffy tail doing the cat equivalent of giving him a blowout.

Misto frequently joins Macavity for varying jobs but doesn't contribute or anything. Sometimes he wanders off part of the way through but most of the time he just kind of watches. Oftentimes judgmentally. Like so:

#they match each others freak so to say #cats fan on main

7 notes · View notes

reco-obsessed · 13 days ago

Note

HII HELLO its me again hc anon and i wan to know.....do u have any specific hcs for samurai yaiba era reko? :3 i love to hear your hcs a ton <3

hello hc anon, its nice to see you again, i thought i scared you off. im sure i do if i take a second to scrummage around. i have a pretty speculative view of samurai yaiba in general, so i think most of my thoughts on samurai yaiba era reko could be considered headcanons, but theyre a bit less fluffy than the last ones (most of the analysis-type ones are under the cut).

i think her eyeliner probably varied a lot just depending on how much of her eyebags she was trying to cover up or how much she messed up the other eye. i dont think she was going for a specific look as much and just kinda went with it.

i wonder a lot if her hair was dyed different back then. we can see with her wig she obviously has always had that weird part in her bangs as kind of her signature, but her character sheet notes how her teardrop eyeliner is a style shes favored 'recently', which makes me wonder what other aspects of her style were different back then. and then of course that line obviously indicates her eyeliner style was different as well, not just on stage but in general. i could see her with blond tips, or thin streaks similar to the spots of pink in her blue wig. maybe shed dye the underside of her hair? i should draw these at some point

Reko’s eye contact is very all or nothing. Either she’s staring you down, hasn’t blinked in five minutes with no signs needing to, or she turns her head completely away and closes her eyes like she’s got her social security number written on her eyelids and is trying to hide it. This is something i headcanon for reko when we see her in game as well but imagine how much worse it is when she’s got those electric blue contacts in and that annoyed look on her face.

while i doubt its the case, i think theres an argument you could make for SY reko still being closeted (this depends a lot on whether you also headcanon her as transfem. it doesnt make as much sense if shes closeted as a lesbian but out as a trans woman. then again, that would be extremely funny, and thats usually enough reason for me). shes been very rebellious before this and had her noted delinquent era, but seems to have been isolated and focused on music for pretty much her entire life. i see SY reko as someone who squandered most of her positive feelings about people away in general, let alone such intense ones like a crush. she definitely had some really obvious moments anyway, but she just... only focuses on music. she compresses what she feels into music instead. if she was, it would definitely be a situation where literally everyone besides her knows. i also like this interpretation because i think the idea that she kind of knows shes different from everyone else, doesnt get conventional norms about romance, and overall just suppressing such a huge part of herself probably contributed to her early rebellious phase and her short fuse. then again, you could easily argue her figuring out she was into women could have contributed to her rebellion in the first place.

i think she wore lipstick more often back then. not all the time, but on occasion. this ones just a hunch.

i like to imagine part of the way the stage outfit we see her in is designed is intended to prevent her from overheating (shorts, mesh paneling). its probably mostly a stylistic choice, especially since that doesnt seem to be a concern for the other members, but also consider shes singing, playing guitar, and probably even dancing as well, and shes already got enough reasons why she could fall over- she doesnt need her outfit to contribute (even though she ends up wearing heels anyway).

I see SY Reko as probably being someone who was in a bad place mentally thorough out the bands run. shes kind of in this in between spot, where shes made this big statement of having rebelled from her father and the industry she was forced into, but she hasnt completely shorn off every harmful thing she was taught from those years in actuality. shes 'free', and she thinks shes 'free', but in reality she keeps falling into habits and patterns of thought set up from earlier in her life and she doesnt even realize it and wont for a while, as she isnt in a place where shes self aware until later on. shes destructive- mostly to herself, but it doesnt look like that from the outside because theres so much collateral. this concept is kind of the foundation for a lot of my interpretation of Samurai yaiba era reko. the symptoms include:

I doubt SY reko took as good care of herself as she shouldve back then. maybe not skipping showers or not brushing her teeth type of not taking care of herself, but probably had a poor diet, a shitty sleep schedule, was overworking herself.

I can see SY reko being the type to exercise a lot. i imagine she had a thing about making sure she was always in peak performance. another part of how she disregarded herself in order to keep up to her own impossible standards. (theres also the fact her stage outfit shows off her midriff and legs, so its not impossible she felt the need to keep herself in check in that sense).

i imagine she hid not only her feelings about alice from him, but just her feelings on their band and stuff in general. her feelings about alice have always been complicated, and between desperately trying to not feel any love for him and failing at it, and her trying to put her all in samurai yaiba and making it the perfect successful band she thinks he wants, its easier for her to just try to interact with him any more than she has to.

similarly, i see SY era reko as being someone who was very lonely, but didnt process it enough to realize that. she was isolated from her peers at an early age by been tokenized as a 'gifted kid' and then later on even more so as a source of profit, and she lost out on a lot of key developmental stages socially. she throws herself into her music completely instead of even trying with people because its all she even knows how to do. even if she did try, she has this complex about how everyone is out to get her. she doenst think anyone really wants to be around her, and she tries to match that energy with something along the lines of 'well screw all of you anyway'. in spite of all that, she still has that base need to be with others and connect to them- partially shown thrown her love of music, and its probably part of why its such a huge coping mechanism for her.

SY era reko has issues with vulnerability. obviously self-esteem contributes to this, but i think its also a big symptom of being exposed to the music industry as child. she got used for profit when she was just a kid by the people who were supposed to protect her, and no one stepped in until she refused to keep going along with it herself. its no wonder shes learned to see everyone as an enemy.

SY Reko probably had something similar to a paranoid streak. shes canonically described as someone who antagonized everyone by Alice, which means she was probably constantly in self-defense mode, hence her angry outbursts. she likely saw everyone as hating her and wanting her downfall or at least inevitably leading to it, and based off the notes of ehr being 'alone' and pushing everyone away, was likely very closed off and incapable of thinking of herself in a positive light or even as thinking of herself as lovable at all. i think its very likely that with how her father treated her, his love became more conditional- like a goalpost or reward for doing well enough, if he even kept showing affection at all. i think it probably really scarred how she saw love, especially at this point in her life, and you can see a lot of it in the way she interacts with alice.

even though reko rebelled from making the music she didnt want to, i think she was still left with a lot of self esteem issues from abandoning the thing that made her valuable and lovable to her family. yes, she was doing what she wanted, but she mustve been very aware of the backlash that would come from not only her parents but her previous fans because of the drastic change, leading her to feel as if she was universally hated.

SY reko's self deprecating tendencies were likely a lot more pronounced. reko already somewhat has this habit (she refers to herself as 'pathetic' in game for not taking better care of sara) but between her being much harsher in general its not a stretch that that probably applied to- in fact came from- her view of herself.

i think thats all the major ones that come to mind right now, though more may respawn because reko yabusame of all eras haunt me . thus concludes my essay . i hope you enjoyed reading

#obsession propagation #obsession original #i dont remember if i used my ask tag for the previous ones... i have to go back...#reko yabusame #fuck it. putting this in the #yttd #tag #samurai yaiba #reko questions my beloved. so much enrichment in my enclosure

4 notes · View notes

starswhisperwritershear · 6 months ago

Text

First Chapter Up!

Basically, I was inspired by @tatumsdrawing mechanic au and I started this project mainly cause I found a severe lack of fics with stuff I wanted to read and decided to contribute.

Of All The Stories In The Stars, Ours Has Yet To Be Told (7031 words) by StarsWhisper Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Danny Phantom Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dash Baxter/Danny Fenton Characters: Danny Fenton, Dash Baxter, Sam Manson, Tucker Foley, Paulina Sanchez, Kwan (Danny Phantom) Additional Tags: Aged-Up Character(s), on the way to college, mentions of child abuse, Mentions of homophobia, Redemption Arcs, Bisexual Danny Fenton, everyone becoming good friends, learning how to live, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Second Chances, lots of classical literature references, lots of astrology references, more tags coming when i think of them Summary: It's the end of senior year and Dash and Danny are having the worst time of their lives. Dash's father finds out he's queer and tries to kill him. That lands him in prison with divorce papers. Dash goes to therapy to cope and learn how to change his behaviors while taking some time off from school. He now needs to learn how to navigate the world and figure himself out. Danny fears he'll never figure out what he wants for his future beyond being the hero of Amity Park forever and he's running out of time to figure it out as he watches everyone he knows move on without him. Plus there are always the people hunting him down that he has to worry about on top of that.

“Do you blame yourself?”

Dash eyed his therapist for a moment before dropping his gaze to the floor. She was sitting comfortably on her big fluffy chair, legs crossed and clipboard in hand; Dash wondered how she was able to be at such ease all the time while the people she talked with were always so visibly on edge. The couch he sat on always felt too wide and isolating for just one person. It didn’t have enough stuffing and the wood always dug into his skin and made his bones sore.

“What?”

“Well, it is quite common for children in these situations to assume the blame for-”

“I’m not a child. I’m almost nineteen.”

She hummed, scribbling something in her notebook. Dash hated when she did that. He knew it was helpful, but it made him feel small. He didn’t like feeling small. She stared at him, waiting for him to continue the conversation. He hated when she did that too.

Dash snorted. “Blame myself for what? My dad trying to kill me? The disappointment in my mom’s eyes when she looks at me? That half the school hates me because of how I’ve treated them? You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“The divorce,” she answered, uncrossing and recrossing her legs, “but it sounds like there are other things on your mind. Would you like to talk about those?”

“No.” Dash sighed, shifting and failing once again to get comfortable. “I just… I feel so…” Angry? Sad? Guilty? Relieved? Scared? “...ashamed.”

“And why do you feel that way?”

“I don’t know.”

She waited patiently in silence. He shrunk in on himself, head tucking into his shoulders like a turtle.

“I just should have known better.”

“What should you have known?”

Dash huffed. “I don’t know, everything! That I was treating my mom like garbage; that I was acting just like my father even though I hated him; and that if I stayed on that path I would end up alone and angry and awful just like him. I just should have known better…” He let his words trail off, threading his fingers together and squeezing, hoping his therapist wouldn’t notice them shake.

“Dash, no one can be expected to know everything right away, or else every baby born would be Albert Einstein. We have to give ourselves the grace to learn. Shame is a powerful tool; it tells us what we feel the need to improve on. If we feel shame over our actions, we then know where to start to correct our course.”

Dash sighed and leaned back into the couch. “Then I have a lot to learn.”

“What have you learned so far?”

“That I suck.”

“Let’s try again with more constructive language. What have you learned so far?”

He took a deep breath, trying to keep the tears at bay. It was okay to cry, he just didn’t want to. “I need to start actively making decisions in my life to change. That I can’t keep going the way I’ve been going and expect to end up happy.”

“What does change look like to you?”

“I don’t know.”

She quirked her eyebrow, remaining silent.

“I actually don’t know. I mean, it’s not like I can convince my friends to stop bullying people.”

“You stopped, right?”

“Well, yeah. I did, but every time I tried to tell them why, they just laughed at me. How am I supposed to get them to change?”

“Let’s try focusing on the things that you can control. You may not be able to control other people, but you can control your environment. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, but that’s really hard to do. I mean, a quarterback with no friends during his senior year isn’t exactly a fun time.”

“I understand. Maybe you could try taking it in baby steps. For your homework today, I’d like you to write out at least a five-step plan for the change you want to see in your life.”

Dash took a deep breath, resetting his lungs. “Okay.”

“Is there anything else, you’d like to talk about, we’re almost out of time.”

“No,” then, “thank you.”

“Of course, it’s what you pay me for.”

Dash stepped outside, letting the door to the building slam shut behind him. No one ever talked about just how physically exhausting therapy could be. He wanted nothing more than to curl up with Pookie on his comfortable couch with some snacks and mindless T.V. But, he’d promised his mom he’d pick up groceries on his way back. He turned down the main road and began his long trek to the store.

“Shame is a powerful tool,” He grumbled under his breath. “It sucks.” He kicked a rock down the road. Maybe step one of his plan would be to finally convince himself to go back to school tomorrow. He kicked the rock again. Or maybe he could get away with graduating from home.

“Duck!”

Dash threw himself to the ground; growing up in Amity Park you learn not to hesitate. If someone says duck, you duck, no questions asked. A bird ghost smashed into the brick wall behind him; ghost feathers showering around him. He scrambled over to the alleyway, ducking behind the trashcans. Once he was safe, he peeked his head out to see the bird ghost stand up and shake its head. Phantom rushed past him, landing a kick straight to its chest.

He pulled his ghost-catching thermos out of apparently thin air and pointed it at the ghost. It screeched at him as it got caught in the blue whirlwind and clawed at the edges of the device; ultimately losing as Phantom capped it. He turned toward Dash. “Sorry, are you o-”

A bright, sickly green light shot through the air, clipping Phantom’s arm, glowing ectoplasm splattered across the ground. He screamed and dropped to the ground, cradling the injury with his other hand.

Dash leaned around the corner, straining to see what could have happened. The Fentons were standing there, Mr. Fenton holding a gun pointed right at Phantom.

“Ha-ha! Did you see that, Maddie! I got him on the first try!”

“Great job, honey. But go easy on the Fenton Venom; we want him alive or we’ll be limited in the experiments we can do.”

Dash frantically waved in Phantom’s direction; he was struggling to pull himself off the floor and was flickering like he was trying to disappear but couldn’t. They made eye contact- Phantom’s wide and panicked- and Dash pointed to the alley behind him, hoping against everything that the hero would understand what he meant. Then he full sprinted out of the alley and collided with Mrs. Fenton, knocking her into her husband and successfully grabbing their attention.

“Mrs. Fenton!” He screamed once they had all regained their balance. “Thank god you’re here. I saw a ghost!”

“You saw a ghost!” Mr. Fenton whipped around, gun in hand completely forgotten.

“It was huge! Like the size of a car! And it had like these, these, giant fangs and I couldn’t-”

“Dash, calm down.” Mrs. Fenton chirped. “Where did you see this ghost?”

Danny waited until he knew for sure his parents were distracted by Dash before making a B-line for the alley, trying not to let any of his blood fall onto the ground and give him away. He tucked himself behind the trashcan, desperate to keep all of him out of sight. The smell of burning flesh permeated the air. He moved his hand to check on his injury.

There was a fairly decent-sized chunk taken out of his arm and the area around it was bubbling and falling away, dissolving before it could actually fall off. It burned like hell. His hand was tingling from where he’d touched the injury.

“Figures they’d make a poison at some point,” He hissed, blinking his eyes to keep the tears at bay, he needed to be able to see right now. He tried turning invisible again, but this time he didn’t even flicker. “Fuck, what is this?”

“Oh, man that looks bad.”

Danny whipped his head around to see Dash staring at him. Panic swelled in his chest.

“Don’t worry, they’re gone, chasing a ghost that’s not even there.”

Danny sighed, resting his head on the building behind him. “Thank you.” When Dash didn’t immediately leave he added, “I’ll be okay in a moment, when I can get my powers back.” He left the ‘please go away’ to be implied.

“Right,” Dash nodded, swinging his backpack around and digging through it. “You wouldn’t happen to have like a ghost doctor or something would you?”

“No,” Danny bit back the scream of pain crawling up his throat. God, it felt like he was being torn apart molecule by molecule. It didn’t matter how many times he did this torture thing, it never got any easier to handle the pain. “Ow!”

“Right, okay,” Dash pulled a first aid kit out of his bag and then tossed the bag to the side of the alley, before dropping to his knees next to him. “Okay, I’ve got this.”

Danny leaned away from him. “What have you got?”

“Don’t worry, my mom’s a nurse and she’s taught me a lot of first aid. We need to wash that poison off before it does some real damage.” Dash looked around for a container of some kind and had to settle with one of the trash can lids. He put it next to Danny and started rummaging through his kit.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing? What if you make it worse?”

Dash inhaled sharply, like he was practicing extreme amounts of patience. “Look, you’ve saved my ass, like a lot, now let me save yours. Plus, it’s not like you have a lot of options right now, right?”

Danny wanted to argue, but Dash was right. Short of crawling across town to either Sam or Tucker’s house without his parents catching him or his arm falling off, he didn’t have any other options. He was still hesitant about it; at least he was until the poison hit a major nerve and his entire arm blazed with pain. “Shit!” He yelped, a few tears trickling down his cheeks. “Okay, fine. But fuck up my arm and I’m haunting you for eternity.”

“Deal.” Dash uncapped a bottle of distilled water and gently grabbed Danny’s arm, moving it over the lid and rotating it so the poison wouldn’t run over more of his skin. “Okay, this is probably going to sting. Just try not to move.” He tipped the bottle.

The water hit his skin and it did in fact sting. Danny inhaled sharply through gritted teeth and yanked his arm away. The water splashed off his arm and hit his leg, burning less than the direct poison, but still burning. “Shit!”

“I said sit still!” Dash whisper-yelled, quickly rinsing off his leg. “Sorry,” Dash frowned, “I’m sorry. Just, please try not to move. We don’t know what this stuff is and we definitely don’t want it getting anywhere else.”

Danny dug his nails into his palm, a few more tears falling from his eyes. He took deep breaths, trying to ignore the sting of the water. He flinched when the water hit the deepest part of his wound. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m sorry, I yelled. I didn’t mean to.” Dash threw the empty bottle of water away and grabbed a second one. “Hang in there, I need to make sure I got all of it out before we bandage it. Did it get anywhere else?”

Danny held his hand out to him. Dash grabbed his hand as gently as possible. His hand got off easier, looking more like road rash than poison. It didn’t sting as much when he poured the water over it. “Sorry.”Dash apologized anyway.

Danny chuckled.

“What’s so funny.”

“Nothing, I just don’t think I’ve ever heard you apologize this much. Are you sure I haven’t died again?”

Dash’s face turned red with shame. He capped the water bottle and turned to grab the antibiotic ointment. Figures Phantom would know about his past, he’s been around a long time and he was pretty sure ghosts saw things that others might not.“Thanks for noticing. My therapist says I’ve been making exceptional progress lately.”

Phantom burst out laughing, tears flowing freely now. His shoulders shook with the strength of his laughter, causing his hair to fall into his face. Is laugh was big and boisterous and deep. A soft pink glow illuminated his cheeks. He placed his free hand on his forehead, desperately trying to reign it in. His eyes were scrunched shut and his lashes were wet with tears.

It was ethereal.

Dash shook his head; focus!

“Sorry,” Phantom finally choked out, still gasping on the remnants of laughter, “sorry. I’m not laughing at you. Therapy is so cool. I promise I’m not laughing at that. It’s just-” another giggle- “I’m asking you about your vocabulary while I bleed out in an alleyway. What a crazy Tuesday, huh?”

“I’m just glad you’re not crying anymore.” Dash hyper-focused on putting the antibiotic ointment on the burns on Phantom’s hand and wrapping it with gauze.

“I wasn’t crying.”

“It’s okay to cry.”

“I know it’s okay, I just wasn’t.”

“Okay.” Dash chuckled, moving over to bandage his arm.

“Really, I wasn’t.”

“I bet this is handy, huh?” Dash changed the subject, pointing to his arm where the flesh was slowly, but surely stitching itself back together.

“What is?” Phantom turned to look where he was pointing.

“Your ghost healing stuff. Now that the poison is gone it looks like you’re doing fine.”

“Oh, yeah. I guess it is.”

Dash finished securing the bandages in place. “Not that I don’t- that everyone doesn’t appreciate it, but why do you do it? The hero stuff I mean. Surely a ghost would have better things to do in the afterlife?”

Phantom gingerly moved his arm around, testing its movement. He grinned at Dash. “Well, yeah, but who else is going to do it?”

“The Fentons and the Guys in White don’t seem too keen on retiring anytime soon.”

Phantom frowned, his brows furrowing. “Uh, yeah, and while they can be helpful, they’re not always the most reliable or efficient ghost hunters. Plus, they don’t know half the things I know about ghosts.”

“Right, that makes sense, I guess.” Dash began picking up the first aid stuff. “Has anyone ever said thank you?”

Phantom startled, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Um, no. Surprisingly, you’d be the first.”

A shout echoed in the distance. “Let’s circle back around, Jack. Maybe we missed an alleyway.” It was Mrs. Fenton and she was close by.

“If you can, you’d better,” Dash said to Phantom, who- when he turned around- was already gone, “go.”

He hurried to collect the pieces of his first aid kit and packed it up. His heart was beating so fast. Who would have thought he’d be the one to help his- the town’s hero out? And that he was really pretty when he laughed?

Dash reached for his backpack and stuffed everything in, before dumping the mixture of water and viscera into the trashcan and fixing the lid back in place. He sprinted out of the alley and down the road before the Fentons could find him and ask what he was still doing there.

He stopped to catch his breath and calm his racing heart. He had (in a less than technical sense) held Phantom’s hand today. Paulina was going to be so jealous. That was if she even wanted to talk to him. He didn’t really know what his friends would think about him now.

He sighed, that was a tomorrow problem. Right now his problem was getting to the store before they closed. And getting new supplies for his first aid kit.

Dash walked toward his old table as slowly as he could. Step one of his plan was just to see how everyone reacted. He’d go wherever he needed to from there, whether that be going friendless for the last month of high school or explaining to everyone why he wanted to stop being mean to people and hoping they’d agree.

Dash’s heart fell when he saw his usual spot next to Kwan was taken. In fact, the whole table was full. Paulina and Star were laughing at something one of the football players had said. Kwan was the first one to notice him.

“Oh, Hi, Dash!” He waved.

Dash waved back. “Uh, hi, Kwan.” Dash looked between them and instantly knew he had lost the battle.

Star kicked Kwan under the table. “Uh-hem.”

Kwan retracted his hand.

Paulina wouldn’t look at him. She looked sad, torn.

“Sorry, Dash,” Star murmured, “but one of the club rules is you have to be in a certain tax bracket to sit at the table.”

“My mom’s not poor.” Dash weakly defended.

“It’s the rules,” Star fiddled with her fork, “you know that.”

Dash inhaled. “Alright, whatever.”

“Dash, just so you know,” Kwan said before Dash could leave, “it’s not because you’re gay.”

“Thanks, Kwan.”

“We’re not homophobic.”

“Thanks, Kwan.”

“It is just because you’re poor.”

“Thanks, Kwan.”

“We’ll need your hall pass punch card back,” Paulina spoke softly, still not meeting his eyes.

“Fine, I’ll bring it by after school. I really thought you guys were better than this by now.” He turned and left. He glanced around the cafeteria and then headed for the door outside. Not a lot of people used the ones out there anymore because of all the ghost attacks. He’d be able to do some homework at least.

Dash sighed. A part of him still really wanted to tell Paulina about yesterday. And he’d had plans with Kwan to go see the new Nightmerica movie later this month that he’d been really excited for. Guess that was out of the question now.

As predicted, there were only a few freshmen at one of the tables. Dash sat at the one furthest from them. This was alright; a change of environment, just like his therapist had said, just on an expedited schedule. He sighed and pulled out his book for English class. Might as well get started on that homework.

Danny watched as Dash sat down. He hesitated all of about five seconds before he started walking over. A tug on his shirt stopped him.

“You’re joking, right?” Sam snorted, letting go of his shirt.

“What?” Danny shrugged, his best convincing smile plastered on his face. “Look at how sad he is.”

“He looks pathetic.” Tucker chided.

“And it’s what he deserves, to be sad and lonely.” Valerie glared in Dash’s direction.

“Oh come on, guys! He’s not that bad. When’s the last time he even bothered us?”

“So, what he patches you up and bats his big jock eyelashes at you one time and you’re stuck to him like a freshman with a crush?”Tuckertaunted.

“What!? It’s not like that! He’s just trying really hard to change and I think we should give him a chance.”

“Yeah, 'cause he totally gave all of us a chance.” Valerie sneered.

“Look, let’s just go talk to him and if he’s an ass about it, we can leave and you can all say, I told you so.”

“And if he’s not an ass we can invite him over for a sleepover and braid each other’s hair?” Sam giggled, excitedly flapping her hands.

“Yeah! Hey!” Danny frowned. “Come on, Sam. Can’t you be nice for once in your life?” Danny rolled his eyes and walked over to Dash’s table, not caring if the others followed him or not. They did, of course.

He sat his tray down, confidently he hoped. Dash startled, looking up from his book.

“Mind if we sit here?”

Dash hesitated, blinking. He rubbed his eyes, looked around the group like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, and blinked again. “Uh, sure, I guess.”

Danny threw a grin behind him at Sam and Valerie and sat down in front of Dash. The others sighed and sat down on his side of the table. Dash was staring.

After a moment, Danny casually- oh so casually- pointed at the book in Dash’s hands. “That for Lancer’s advanced class?”

“Uh, yeah; the concurrent enrollment one. I didn’t really want to deal with it in college.” Dash closed the book and dropped it on the bench next to him, cheeks turning a little pink. He fumbled with his hands like he didn’t know what to do with them now.

“Hey, me too. I’m in the morning section though.” Danny punctured the side of his milk carton with a straw, wincing at the pressure it put on his arm. The wound wasn’t a giant hole anymore, but it still had a little more internal healing to do before his nerves would be back to normal. “Don’t tell Lancer this, but I didn’t really like The Scarlet Letter .”

“Wait, you didn’t?” Sam scolded, leaning around Tucker to make sure Danny visibly saw her disappointment. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” Danny shrugged, glancing at Dash who was still staring at him like he’d grown a second head. “I just didn’t like the vibes.”

“I figured if anyone would understand the vibes of having a giant painted letter on their chest, it would be you,” Valerie smirked at him, picking distastefully at her mashed potatoes.

“It’s probably cause he didn’t finish it.” Tucker, oh-so-helpfully interjected as he tapped away at his PDA.

“You didn’t even finish it!?” Sam huffed, flinging her fork down, failing to startle Dash out of whatever staring contest he was having with Danny’s nose.

“No, I got bored.” Danny gazed back at Dash. Had he even blinked? “What did you think Dash?”

Dash didn’t react to the sound of his name. He was completely zoned out, a confused and panicked expression stuck on his face. His nose was scrunched up in thought.

“Dash?”

Dash finally blinked, jerking upright and hitting his hands on the table. He flinched, blood rushing to his face. “Uh, what?”

Sam rolled her eyes.

Danny chuckled. “ The Scarlet Letter , what do you think about it?”

“Oh,” Dash dropped eye contact, “I just barely started it.” He shoved some food in his mouth, remembering that it was there.

“Dude,” Danny laughed, “the test is in like two days.”

“Uh, dude , the test is tomorrow.” Tucker corrected, turning his PDA to show Danny the schedule.

“Shit, it’s tomorrow?” Valerie groaned. “I’ve got to finish those last two chapters fast.”

“You’ll tell me how it ends, right?” Danny batted his eyelashes at her.

“As if, Fenton. Do your own homework.” Valerie playfully shoved his shoulder.

“Ow!”

“Oops, sorry. I forgot.” She shoved his side instead.

“I’m sorry.” Dash blurted. His eyes were fixed intensely on the table this time and Danny thought he saw him shaking just the tiniest bit. “I’m really sorry that I bullied you guys for so long. I was told that I was better than certain people and I had a lot of anger from… everything happening at home and I never stopped to think about what I was doing and that’s not really an excuse, but you guys didn’t deserve that and I’m really sorry.” He took a deep breath, relaxing slightly now that he had gotten everything out.

Danny smiled at him. “Thank you, Dash. I appreciate that.”

Tucker couldn’t help the grin that crossed his face. He had to admit, an apology certainly felt nice. “Yeah, man. That was surprisingly mature.”

“I guess taking a few weeks off has really changed you, huh?” Sam sneered. Danny kicked her under the table. “It is nice to hear you say it though.”

Everyone turned to Valerie who was staring off to the side. Dash held his breath. She turned to him, her gaze softening.

“I suppose it’s been long enough and considering you just got a taste of your own medicine, I’m willing to give you another chance. Just make sure you don’t squander it, yeah?”

Dash released his breath, eternally grateful for Valerie’s good nature. “Thank you, guys. And again, I’m really sorry.”

“Keep saying it and I’m going to vomit.” Sam teased.

A silence fell over their table, everyone trying to release tension by eating their food. Danny wasn’t really sure what he should bring up after something like that and there wasn’t really anything he knew about Dash that Danny Fenton could ask him about. He wracked his brain, hoping to pull something out of thin air.

“So,” Tucker beat him to it, “Danny’s bisexual.”

“Tucker!” Everyone but Dash- who reeled back like he’d just been called a slur- yelled at him.

“What?! I just wanted him to know we’re not homophobic.”

“So, you just decide to out Danny?” Valerie scolded.

“Not cool dude.” Sam punched him in the arm.

“Ow! Sorry, you know how I am with uncomfortable silence.”

Dash was staring at him again.

“Tucker,” Danny sighed, “I am amazed you are capable of keeping any secret.”

“Are you really?” Dash whispered like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to ask such things out loud.

“Uh, yeah, I am.” Danny drew back, hunching in on himself. “Does that bother you?”

“No. Why would it bother me ?”

Danny just shrugged.

Dash cleared his throat. “Have you, uh, have you told your parents yet?”

Danny sighed, making Dash tense like he’d overstepped. “Yeah, I have.”

Dash glanced at him, making eye contact with him for the first time in a moment. “Can I ask how they reacted?”

Danny frowned. “Well, they didn’t try to kill me or beat me up if that’s what you’re asking. But, they didn’t leap for joy either. They kind of just-”

“That’s nice, Danny,” Tucker interrupted, clearly mocking his mother, “but have you seen the Fenton blaster anywhere? I swear I just had it.”

“Hey, that’s great, Danny! Now you can pick two of your chores to do today!” Sam bellowed, doing a really good impression of how his dad laughed.

“Oh.” Dash glanced down at his half-eaten lunch.

“Yeah, not the best reaction, but better than what you got, I guess.” Danny gave him a small, pitying smile.

“Basically everybody knows what happened then?” Dash picked at the table, getting a few slivers in the process.

“Yup, pretty much.” Sam drawled.

“You know how news travels through the A-listers and their parents.” Valerie scoffed. “Everyone had pretty much known what had gone down and why by Monday.”

“Awesome.” Dash sighed.

The lunch bell rang, saving everyone from the depressing turn the conversation had taken. Tucker quickly devoured the last few bites of his burger as everyone but Dash, who was taking his time to pack up his stuff, stood and headed for the door.

“I’m gonna invite him to study with us,” Danny stated.

“He’s good with History, so I’m okay with it,” Valerie shouldered the door open and sped walked down the hall. She had a class at the complete opposite end of the building so she had no time to waste.

“I still think you’re making a mistake Danny. Not a lot of people have what it takes to change.” Sam chided, throwing her lunch wrappers into the recycling bin.

“Come on, Sam.” Danny sighed. “When are you going to start trusting my decisions?”

“I trust you. It’s him I don’t trust.”

“Okay, then trust me when I say I trust him. He apologized. Isn’t that proof of something at least?”

Sam rolled her eyes. “Fine, but I’ll keep my I-told-you-so ready.”

“Good enough. Tucker?”

“I am currently making a betting chart, I’ll let you know what I decide based on how the bets are going.” He didn’t even bother to look up from his PDA.

“Okay, I’ll catch up to you guys.” Danny waved and waited for Dash while the other two walked inside.

Dash took longer than necessary to pack his bag. He needed a moment to decompress. Lunch had been a lot of big emotions all at once and he really just wanted a nap. He kept his book out, maybe he’d be able to get through some of it during his next class.

Dash watched as Danny leaned against the door, flinching when his shoulder hit it wrong. He rubbed his arm, wincing and taking a step away from it.

“Did you hurt your shoulder or something?” Dash asked as he opened the door, waiting for Danny to slip inside first.

“Oh, uh, I, um, sprained it while helping my parents in their lab. No big deal.” Danny trailed after him like Dash had hoped he wouldn’t. He didn’t know how much more awkward conversation he could take right now.

“Hey, I wanted to ask you if you’d like to join our study group after school today?” Danny somehow kept perfect pace with him, not even once bumping into anyone. It was like he didn’t exist in the same place as the crowd. Meanwhile, Dash kept bumping shoulders with people walking entirely too slow.

“I haven’t even really started the book.” They arrived at Dash’s locker. He opened it, hoping it would save him from this.

Danny leaned on his good shoulder against the locker next to his, clearly having no intention of leaving until he got his answer. “And I haven’t even finished it. Besides, we study for all our classes and Valerie says you’re really good at History. Plus, we can always just listen to the others discuss it and hope that’s enough to get us at least a C+.”

“Is that how you pass all your classes? Cheating off your friends?” He didn’t really know how to talk to Danny now that their dynamic had changed so rapidly. He was still reeling from the fact that Danny chose to sit next to him at lunch and talk casually about an assignment like nothing had ever happened between them.

Danny gasped. “How dare you, it’s not cheating. It’s studying. I’ll have you know I’m not a cheater.”

His eyes were so blue, like they had an internal light glowing behind them. And he had gotten taller over the years, much taller. He was at the very least as tall as Dash if not a few inches taller. He looked a lot less like the twig from freshman year and more like someone who could dominate professional basketball. Well, if professional basketball players dressed like an angsty theater kid. His hair had grown longer in the back and he’d dyed the underside white, creating a (fashionable) mullet situation. He’d started wearing black t-shirts and red flannels; chains dangled from the side of his jeans; he’d pierced his ears and Dash could have sworn he’d seen him wearing fingerless gloves on a few occasions. The only part of his outfit that was the same, were the red sneakers he wore.

“So?”

Dash blinked. That was the third time today he’d been caught staring. Come on, Baxter, focus! “So?”

“So, are you coming?”

“Why are you suddenly so keen to hang out with me? Usually, people tend to avoid the guy that was a piece of shit to them.” He reached for his math book, shoving it in his bag.

A lazy grin crawled its way onto Danny’s face. “Eh, you’re just not as big and scary as you think you are.” He fucking winked at him. Jesus Christ. “Besides, I may not have thrown you in a locker or chased you down the hallway or hung you from a flag pole, but I have played my fair share of nasty pranks on you in the past. And you’ve just apologized so we’re on even ground here.”

“Wait, what pranks?”

Danny spoke over him, “So are you coming or what?”

Dash gazed heavily into his locker. Danny was staring and it made him nervous. He weighed his options; he could either go home and take a much needed nap, tiptoe around his mother at dinner, and then hide in his room all night, or he could go study and maybe catch up on all the assignments he’d missed and had put off doing. “What subject are you good at?”

“Physics.”

“You’re good at physics but not math?”

“I choose not to question it.”

Dash made sure to sigh as dramatically as possible. “Fine, I’ll come.”

“Awesome!” Danny cheered, peeling himself away from the locker and walking backward to his class. “See you after school!” He turned and booked it down the hallway, almost disappearing into the crowd.

Dash sighed again, this time for his own benefit. He closed his locker and leaned his forehead against it. So much for his nap. At least he could tell his therapist he’d started making changes before he’d even finished writing out his five steps. She’d be proud.

Much later that night, Dash pushed open his front door, dropped his bag on the floor, and braced for impact. Pookie came running around the corner, yapping away, and slammed into his ankles. Dash knelt down, vigorously petting his dog.

“Hey, boy! Who’s a good boy? Who’s a sweet little guy? You are! You are!”

Pookie barked lovingly at him, shaking every molecule in his body from sheer excitement. He licked at his hands.

“Gross, Pookie. You’re gonna get a stomach ache from school germs.”

“Dash? You home, sweetie?” His mom called from the kitchen.

He drew in a deep breath, his body tensing from the anxiety rushing through his veins. His mom hadn’t really talked about what happened beyond making sure Dash knew she loved him no matter what. She’s been avoiding the subject. “Yeah!” He slowly made his way to the kitchen, Pookie following dutifully behind.

His mom was standing over the stove, spoon in hand as she stirred something that smelled amazing. She looked tired. She probably just barely got home from work.

“You’re home pretty late, did something happen?” She asked reaching for the spice cabinet.

Dash walked over and reached for the salt, handing it to her. She always put it back just a shelf too high. He peeked into the pan; stir-fry, his favorite. He avoided her eyes, he didn’t want to see the disappointment he knew he’d find there. “No, I was just at a study group trying to catch up on some homework.”

“With Kwan and Paulina?” She asked slowly, like he would fall apart if she made one wrong misstep.

He washed his hands in the sink. “No, actually, Danny Fenton invited me to join his group.”

She stirred the pot in front of her, falling silent for a moment. “That’s certainly a change.”

Dash felt like he was swimming in ice water. “Yeah, I, um, well, I apologized to him for giving him such a hard time and he sat with me at lunch.” Dash figured she didn’t need to know the exact order of events. “Kwan and Paulina don’t want anything to do with me.”

She frowned. “Oh, sweetie. I’m sorry. It’s not because…” She trailed off. She hadn’t said the word yet. Dash hated that she wouldn’t say it.

“No. At least they said it wasn’t; just that I’m apparently too poor for them now. Club rules.”

She pulled some plates down from the cabinets. “That’s probably just their parents spewing venom in their ears.”

“It’s the same thing we did to Valerie freshman year. I kind of knew it was coming, I just hoped things had changed.” Dash grabbed the filtered water from the fridge, pouring them both a glass.

“Thank you.” She plated the food and walked over to the table, Dash following her. “I’m sorry your friends turned out to not be so friendly.”

“It’s okay.” They sat down, eating in silence for a moment. Dash hated the silence the most.

His mom glanced up at him. “So, you apologized to the Fenton boy?”

Dash sat up straight, taking a deep breath before answering. “Yeah. I did.”

“How’d it go? I mean, obviously, you guys hung out, so pretty well?” She added even more salt to her plate.

“It was hard. And scary. But I think it went pretty well. Some of the others were there too, including Valerie. I think they were more hesitant to forgive me and I can’t blame them. But, I think it worked out okay. At the very least they were glad to have my help with History.” He picked a piece of meat off his plate to feed to Pookie, who was lying down by his feet like a good boy.

“I’m really proud of you, Dash.” His mom was looking at him, a smile on her face. He hadn’t seen her smile since the incident. He felt the shame covering him again.

“Don’t say that mom.”

“Why not? I’m very proud of the man you’re becoming.”

He set his fork down, focusing on controlling his breathing, he did not want to start crying in front of his mom again. “Cause I don’t deserve it. I was awful to you and to Fenton and the other kids at school. I haven’t even begun to make up for it, so how can you say you’re proud of me?” Too late, the tears were already halfway down his cheeks. He heard his mom stand up, but he was more focused on rubbing the tears away. Pookie was trying his best to comfort him by rubbing against his leg.

She gently held his face. “Dash, look at me son, please look at me.”

He did.

She was crying too.

“You have nothing to apologize to me for.”

“I said so many awful things to you and I destroyed our family.” He was full-on sobbing now.

“I’m sorry.” She choked out. “I’m so sorry I didn’t see what was going on sooner. You did not destroy our family. Your father destroyed this family. He destroyed this family when he taught my son to see others as less than. He destroyed this family when he taught both me and my son that we were unworthy of love. He destroyed this family when he started hitting my son. And he destroyed this family when he was ready to kill my son over who he loved. You didn’t deserve any of the things he did to you and I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you. It’s my fault, Dash, not yours.”

She pulled him into a tight hug, her tears spilling onto his shoulders. Dash hugged her back and for the first time in a long time, allowed himself to fall apart. He sobbed and cried and yelled and held her tight like his mother’s touch alone would keep every bad thing away from him. When he had calmed a little, just enough to hear her, she spoke again.

“Of course, I’m proud of you. Despite everything you’ve been through, you chose to get help and you chose to still be you. That’s so hard to do and you did it anyway. When I look at you I see someone who wanted something better for himself and went for it; I see someone who is becoming who he wants to be, not who he was taught to be; I see someone who apologized to the people they’d hurt even though it was incredibly hard to do; I see my son. And I am so very proud of my son. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel any other way.”

Dash sniffled, holding on because he wasn’t ready to let go yet. “I thought you were disappointed in me.”

“Disappointed? Never.” She sniffled too. “I was just sad. Sad that my son was sad. And sad that I married someone so evil. But, I love you. And I’m sorry I don’t say it enough.”

Dash finally pulled away, wiping his tears away. “I love you too.”

She gave him a watery smile. She sniffed, inhaled a deep breath, and stood up. “Look at us.” She chuckled. “We’re a mess and our food is probably cold. I’m sorry, I know it’s your favorite.”

Dash leaned down and picked Pookie up. The dog had been going crazy at the two emotionally unstable humans in his house. “I think we’ve said enough ‘I’m sorry’s’ for the night.”

“Ugh, you’re right. Let’s just order some takeout and we can watch The Bachelorette or something and you can tell me which guys you think are the hottest.”

“Mom!” Dash was mortified.

“What? We haven’t talked about this yet.” She had the restaurant page and phone in hand, already typing in the number for the pizza place down the street. “I need to make sure you have better taste in men than I do. What pizza toppings do you want?”

Dash found himself laughing. It was nice to have his house feel like home again. He helped his mom clean the kitchen and get the couch blankets out of the closet for their impromptu movie night. Just as they were getting ready to hit play, his phone beeped with a text message.

Unknown Number: I stole ur # from, Val. :P Walk with us 2 school tmrw?

Unknown Number: It’s Danny.

Dash smiled down at his phone. What a dork. Dash saved the number in his phone, heart nearly caving in. It’d been all of one day and suddenly his entire life was different. He’d have to remember to thank Danny for being so forgiving.

“Who is it?” His mom asked.

“Uh, it’s Danny. He wants to walk to school together.” He twiddled his thumbs, not sure how to respond to the text.

His mom smirked at him. “Wow, that must have been some apology.”

Dash wanted to crawl under a rock and never come back out.

“Does he know you drive to school?”

“Probably not. I’ll just walk with him and tell him tomorrow.”

“Okay, whatever you say. Hit play, mister.”

Dash hit play on the TV. and typed a quick reply on his phone.

Dash: See you tomorrow

Nerd: Meet @ my place?

Dash: I’ll be there.

Nerd: See u tmrw :D

#danny phantom #fanfiction #writers on tumblr #ao3 #archive of our own #dandash #swagger bishie #teddy ghost #whatever other ship names they have #of all the stories in the stars ours has yet to be told

19 notes · View notes

mdhwrites · 2 years ago

Note

Since you mentioned it in a recent post, what do you think about TOH having a sympathetic main cast of mostly conventionally beautiful, humanoid characters while still preaching about how 'weirdos have to stick together'? Do you think there's some hypocrisy in how the show handles its less 'cute' characters?

I do think it's hypocritical and that in and of itself is a problem. It's also just really fucking boring and contributes to the problem of it feeding into the fantasy problem of "Our world but with more teeth."

So since I'm going to rip into this creative choice for the rest of this blog, let's first talk about the positives of having a cast that is effectively all humans, especially all good looking ones, instead of demons, monsters, etc. After all, we need to be fair. There's a lot that goes behind these choices and while the Isles has a lot of bizarre designs in the backgrounds, there had to be a point to all of the denizens we commonly interact with looking like generic elves. *flips through notes* *checks some papers* *flips through more notes* It makes fanart easy.

...OKAY FINE! That's only SOMEWHAT hyperbolic. The reason it makes fanart easier is also why it's really easy to just go with a cast of humans. We as a SPECIES inherently trust and connect better with those who look like ourselves, for better and mostly worse. This can be as specific as skin color and as abstract as simply the human form. Yes, for people like me who are proud monster fuckers, this line blurs but for common Joe Shmoe, they're going to want someone who looks fairly normal if they're going to get really invested.

Worse yet is if you look at modern cartoons. Bare minimum, Molly McGee and Amphibia. Yes, SOME people in those fandoms will draw the frogs and Scratch... But they ALL draw the trios of human characters. And yes, shipping matters here but I've also seen a good number of Amphibia artists just admit to spending way too much figuring out how to draw Sprig because the anatomy is wonky enough to make you question yourself. If they're all humans, you can still get by just fine with your normal style and lessons that most art books are going to teach you.

This isn't even untrue from a writing perspective. Just a cultural shift (and yes I'm calling myself out on this) can be enough to throw you WAY out of your comfort zone for how to write a character besides token elements like food. Throw in entirely different anatomy, skill sets inherent to biology, weaknesses similarly inherent to that biology, and you start to have a lot more questions you need to ask for a very basic level understanding of a character. Which seems like a good transition point to talking about the monstrous denizens of TOH. Specifically that there is ONE 'monster' in The Owl House main cast and that is King.

...

Can you tell me what the fuck is special about King? Besides being short and fluffy, his differing anatomy effectively NEVER comes into play. His magical blasts are practically replicated by Raine whistling. Make him an 8 year old elf child and the only thing you lose is his ancestry. Not his heritage, his ANCESTRY. That's pretty fucking weak.

Edit: Someone on Twitter pointed out to me that King's design is effectively just a furred Cubone and I hate knowing this.

Otherwise, the only inhumane thing about him is that they make him a dog. Which, you know... isn't exactly going very far down on the spectrum of likability for most people. In fact, this technique isn't anywhere near new. Toothless is just a giant cat and I love him for it but I wouldn't blame anyone who looked at the How to Train Your Dragon Dragons and went "I wish they acted like dragons." Because... They don't? They have the designs and move sets of dragons but most of their temperament is far more cat like, down to having dragon nip and being distracted by reflected light.

King is also the only foreground deviation for the protagonists. As I said when I first mentioned this, you can't even really go with Willow being heavier set. She is pretty much the textbook definition of "More to love" seeing as her being slightly heavier just gives her a softer design than the rest of the characters instead of being anywhere close to unappealing like one of Mabel's friends in Gravity Falls is. You're supposed to look at Willow and go "I bet she gives really good hugs" and that's about it. Her weight, much like her ethnicity frankly, is hardly what you're supposed to think about with her design besides basic contrast.

And she's still better than the rest of the cast who are models. Including Luz for that matter. Now the show's style doesn't lend itself well to distinguishing how pretty a character is besides their reactions from a different character... But it can also absolutely do ugly. And no one in this main cast is ugly. You want a NASTY scar, you're gonna have to look elsewhere than the tatted up teenage boy and the girl who has a little flair on one of her eyebrows. One is meant to look cool, the other is still the same job while also being slight enough not to embellish the main face too much.

Amity and Eda though are explicitly in text stated as REALLY PRETTY. Like model pretty from how people react to them. Yes, one of these people is Luz's girlfriend but literally any acknowledgement of her looks is more than Gus, Willow or any of the villains (especially positively) are given. Not even Odalia who is the best case against this argument. But, you know, those are Amity's genes running through Odalia. She's not gonna be ugly because then how are all of the Blight Children ready for a Vogue cover shoot?

And here's the thing: In most media, this isn't really a problem. People like attractive people and there's nothing wrong with that. I know people want more representation and they are right to want that but also most media is a fantasy of some sort. Especially for a basic wish fulfillment isekai like TOH, a really pretty harem is packaged explicitly into the fantasy because who doesn't want hot magical beings saying they're the best?

Except then there's the line of "Us Weirdos Gotta Stick Together," or the fact that Luz is stated to be bullied (but didn't actually look out of place amongst the cheerleaders or drama kids), or the fact that TOH theoretically peddled early on a Fantasy vs. Reality theme. It is a show that is meant to CELEBRATE the Other and be challenging to those who are commonly seen as better... But the Other isn't present. When they are... They're villains. Belos is the only character with a curse that doesn't make them pretty. It's really gruesome what the curse does to him, even before he becomes a full monster. Contrast that with Eda who sprouts feathers and that's really it? Then you have Tibbles, who is a literal pig, the evil publisher who is a lizard, the monster hunters who are orcs effectively, Warden Wrath who is a homunculus? There isn't actually a clear inspiration directly for him besides 'monster' which is part of why he's one of the best one off villains of the series. The closest to a protagonist monster is Hooty which the series goes out of its way to make most people mock, outright hate and/or be actively repulsed by him, especially if it's a character we're supposed to care about.

When it comes to the villains, there are two who stand out as prettier than the rest and they both have direct connections to the main cast. In fact, to Amity. Odalia who I talked about earlier and Boscha. I guess Matt if you want to count him but as far as looking like a basic ass bitch goes, you don't get much more basic than Matt without bleaching his skin. Boscha on the other hand's prettiness is pretty much the best argument we had before she was given a half assed redemption that she was going to be redeemed. Why else make her so much prettier than everyone else? Unless it was just fueled by "She is going to be next to Amity a few times and a Blight wouldn't interact with anyone too... alternative." None of Amity's friends are more monstrous than a third eye after all and that doesn't really hold Boscha back all that much. Frankly, it probably saved her from large forehead jokes akin to what Amity gets since they both have hairstyles that pull their hair back and that's a problem for the show's style.

What does all of this mean? Well, it means in a show that is trying to lift up those who feel like they don't belong, it's still reinforcing standard beauty ideals of society. Worse yet, it just kind of discredits that Luz meets ANY outcast. I wouldn't have called my friends in High School ugly of course but were any of us ready for the runway? Of course not. We didn't take care of ourselves right for that or just didn't have the right genes for it.

Because let's face it: The eyeball head girl was NEVER going to be a main character. And that's... also really boring. The fact that witches are just elves but without any of the culture, long lifespans (as far as we know) etc. like that is also just really boring. And for a fantasy show, especially one that pitches in the first episode that ANY folk tale we have originated here, that's not good. Especially since even if they look like elves, you could have still at least TRIED to make them interesting with things like the bile sac but that's a throwaway joke to the writers. And the saddest thing is... If you're a person who LIKES weird characters, or actually embraces their weirdness and so doesn't need to be told they'll have a Victoria Secrets model as a wife... What is TOH gonna do for you? Or for anyone who doesn't want designs that are less interesting and less unique than even Danny Phantom's. And that's from fucking Butch Hartman who is not exactly known for being a top tier artist. Like SAM as a goth is more alternative (especially for when the show first aired) than fucking ANYONE in the main cast of TOH. And that show debuted ALMOST TWENTY YEARS AGO. And Valerie even had a similar bodytype to Willow but with WAY more personality!

Now I'm just thinking about all the shows I grew up with like Total Drama Island that had so much fun with even their pretty boy designs. That's frankly my biggest issue. The pretty problem in TOH IS bad thematically. Above all else though... it's just boring. Boring and lazy. How these characters look don't mean ANYTHING to them. It doesn't say much about them, the show or anything else.

They're pretty just because the creator probably likes making pretty people and I can usually support. I support Yoko Taro after all. But Yoko Taro makes people (or androids which are based off humans). This is fantasy. You can do whatever you want and the TOH crew couldn't be assed enough to even do a demon.

In a world called the DEMON REALM! I think at that point, you need to ask why the fuck they're bothering with it being a fantasy show in the first place, let alone one trying to pitch itself as anything other than basic wish fulfillment.

=======

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead, If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

And finally a Twitter you can follow too!

#TOH Critical #The Owl House Criticism

53 notes · View notes