#what are we collectively hallucinating on this season | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hiraethwa · 29 days ago

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to be loved is to be known

two; here we go again // the red strings bring you back to me

pairing. kageyama x reader

cw. angst, timeskip, setter!reader, one-sided pining, divorced!reader, fluff, healing from past marriage

wc. 6.8k

featured track. haze by LUCY

you have me. even when you think you don't. i was only ever yours to begin with.

kageyama tobio accepted the offer to play with ali roma that following season.

you had seemed happier in the following weeks with no recollection of the night of your birthday, so he tells himself that he is happy for you that you managed to mend whatever it was in your marriage. not that it ever stops him from thinking that he wouldn’t have allowed it to happen in the first place if he was your husband. if, if, if.

but he isn’t, so he throws himself into volleyball, the love of his life. between the busy season leading up to the olympics and moving to italy, he didn’t have much time to miss you anyway.

you didn’t normally text or call each other outside of volleyball, the only thing that threads a very thin connection between you, so he sort of lost contact with you naturally, the delicate string unraveling through disuse.

it’s been many months since he settled in italy, so he gathers it’s time to move on with his life—move on from you. he thinks he is actually doing alright in that department, chasing after whispers of your name on written articles, posts, updates significantly less than he used to when he first moved there.

once again, kageyama forgets to account for the variable that is you.

because he finds you knocking on his apartment door as he returns from his grocery run, and his arms slacken, bags falling to the wooden floor. a tomato tumbles out onto the floorboard. he wonders if he is hallucinating—he thought he had been doing so well in the moving-on-from-you department too.

“kageyama!” he finds himself flustered at the lack of formalities coming from you.

“kuroo-san? w–what are you doing here?” how did you even find where he lives?

“didn’t you send me that text to drop by if i visit italy? you didn’t tell me you changed your mind.” you help him with the bags as he fumbles with his keys. why won’t the key fob just orient itself properly?

wait, the text? he didn’t text you, did he? finally, the lock on his front door registers the presence of the fob and unlocks. he realizes belatedly, as you set down his groceries on the kitchen floor, that he must have accidentally sent you the text that was meant for hinata.

no wonder hinata never said anything about it.

kageyama wisely chooses not to mention his mistake to you. he listens to you point out a few things you’ve noticed in your trip so far—the gorgeous architecture, the gelato storefronts that seem to line every other block, the mouthwatering food you tried so far—patiently waiting for you to explain this bizarre situation to him.

it is extremely out-of-character for you to show up unannounced, and not to mention, formalities and boundaries be damned. and you are rambling, seemingly nervous, your tell of tucking your hair behind your ear giving you away.

so he nods along with you, commenting here and there, pretending like all of this is normal (when none of it is) as you make yourself at home at his kitchen island, telling him stories while watching him put his groceries away.

kageyama could almost pretend that this is your domestic life. one in another world where the gods favored him.

he recognizes the glint of wildness in your eyes, the look when you take a leap of faith, uncalculated faith, trusting, hoping that you will land on the other side safely.

“say, if, if aeroitalia smi roma gave me an offer to join them here in italy next season. what would you do if you were me?”

aeroitalia smi roma. here in italy. a barrage of questions appear, one that especially looms above them all. his eyes wander to your hands, noting the absence of the gold band on your ring finger. he tamps down on the blind hope rising to the surface of his heart.

“i would take it. they’re one of the best in italy.” but what about kuroo-san?

you nod at his statement, mostly to yourself. he registers the faraway look in your eyes as you turn to look out the window at the busy streets below.

he could almost taste the hope on his tongue, could almost imagine a life shared with you, doing groceries together, having you stare out his kitchen window as you are now on a lazy saturday afternoon, a cup of steaming hot latte in your hands. almost.

“could i ask you for a favor?”

“anything.” he breathes.

another lifetime where you would barrage him to decorate his relatively empty apartment, its four plaster walls empty and unused, to make his place feel like a home.

“i am going to need a tour guide when i come back.” you look pointedly at him.

he tries not to let his smile shine through too much. “when you come back?”

this lifetime where he would take anything you are willing to offer, make his peace with it. it has been so long he’s almost forgotten it, how easy it was to be around you, natural as breathing, familiar as a volleyball in between his palms.

as though he’s a desolate tree that survived all winter, the chill that festered in his bones being chased away by your warm gentle rays of sunlight from the unexpectedly early spring.

“you know, if aeroitalia did give me an offer.”

“i have barely been here for a year.” he laughs, coming to a stop next to you, staring out at the streets.

“still barely a year longer than me. plus, you can speak some italian, right?” you elbow him.

“i guess i will see you then, huh?” he tilts his head at you, dimples showing. you smile back at him—barely, a ghost of what it used to be.

he makes a vow to the gods that he would do anything to bring it back. anything.

“i’ll be two doors away if you need me.” you think kageyama was being polite as he helped you lug your suitcases up twelve flights of stairs with the elevator undergoing maintenance.

you bang your head on the wall in embarrassment. what exactly were you thinking when you showed up at kageyama’s apartment last month, and then pestered him with your stupid questions about moving to italy?

oh my god. he was probably just being polite and didn’t know how to tell you off. your relationship with kageyama had been strictly work-related, but you went off the rails, too worried about the move to italy while finalizing your divorce to be anxious over what he thought of you.

you ignore the uneasiness in your chest as you fish your phone out, feeling a buzz from it.

it’s a text from kageyama. you alright over there? shit. that was the wall between your apartments, wasn’t it? you text back a yep! before letting your shame out in a silent scream.

you make quick work of putting your essentials away, clothes, toiletries, packed food ingredients (as kageyama suggested), and some miscellaneous things that you managed to fit in two suitcases. the apartment came furnished, and two suitcases wasn’t much to begin with, having left most of the items from your previous marriage behind.

the sun is setting by the time you finish. the apartment looking just a little less vacant with your jacket strewn over the back of your couch, sauces and seasonings dotting the space next to the stovetop for now.

it’s not home, but it will do, for the time being. until you could fill in the missing fixtures and appliances, like a coat hanger for the front door, some bathroom necessities, kitchen knives. the list grows by the second as you survey your new space from where you are curled up by the kitchen window.

you lean your head against the wooden panels, admiring the yolk-colored ball of fire casting its final rays of light over the bustling city before darkness falls, much like flipping the last page of the chapter.

you stay there until the last strand of sunlight disappears over the horizon, rome now enveloped in specks of yellow. the sun will rise again tomorrow, it’s time to start a fresh page.

still, it feels odd knowing you are the only one who will walk through the front door every evening, that you have this space all to yourself.

your habitual tadaima slipping from your lips to no one in particular as you cross the threshold of your apartment, not that kuroo was ever present physically or mentally to welcome you home with a responding okaeri. on days when he came home after you (which was most), he often beelined for the shower, briefcase left at the front door, which he would come back to later, flipping through project documents past working hours.

you could probably count on ten fingers the handful of times that he even noticed your presence in the living room and mumbled a tadaima before tugging off his tie in the last year of your marriage.

it is easy to forget how much your life has changed during the day, occupied with the pace of practice and the frenzy of filling your apartment. so easy to gloss over the kuroo-shaped hole in your heart when the sound of the cities floods out the voices in your head.

when the night falls, and the city quiets, that’s when it gets loud. the sound of nothing, the crackling static gets so deafening in your ears, your mind, overwhelming your senses.

the realization that you really left everyone who’s ever loved you behind in japan to find something new, different in a foreign country, its tongue that you are struggling to decipher, the loneliness of being abroad.

the hollowness in your chest that amplifies the nothingness in your ears.

you have taken a liking to the city nightscape, eyes staring out at nothing in particular as you sit by the window by your lonesome, trying your very best to adapt and learn to be comfortable alone in your spacious apartment. to allow your thoughts and fears and hopes to speak to you while the static buzzes in the background, acknowledging them and letting them flow over and through you.

i hear you.

it gets easier to breathe the more you sit by the window overlooking the city. the sense of loss that once pressed on you at every waking moment dulls to a quiet throb.

you look out the window, where the first rays of sunlight peek over the city, dancing through the window and illuminating your kitchen in its softness, loosening a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

it’s the first morning you actually see the sunrise, legs cramping, as the sun climbs over the horizon, wishing you a good morning, since you moved in weeks ago.

it feels like deja vu as kageyama tobio finds you outside his apartment door, arm poised to knock on it, except you don’t. still as a statue, you stand frozen in doubt, the only movement from your fingers flexing and curling catching his eye.

even the shadows themselves seem to curl tighter around you as he approaches you carefully, as if you were a wild animal emerging from hibernation that would vanish back into the darkness at the slightest disturbance.

the gods must be over the moon with the new creative ways they are coming up with to toy with his heartstrings. the roles so starkly reversed between you and him, his once brilliant sun reduced to mere echoes of its former glory, leaving him to play what used to be your role and bring you out of your shell.

kageyama wonders if it would be appropriate if he poked fun at you the way you used to at him, if he would be overstepping his lines. then again, the lines had been blurred and redrawn over the past month, he thinks, remembering the first time you reached out to him after dropping by without notice, not really volleyball related.

hey! what should i bring to italy? you had texted him, the bubble showing that you’re still typing. like stuff you can’t get there.

he had thought long and hard about it before replying—curry cubes. perhaps that one was too specific, as he follows up with another text. sorry. anything you like to eat in japan, it’s hard to get japanese ingredients here. you had reacted to his message with a heart and left it at that.

and then more random messages.

do i need to bring a rice cooker? probably not…? i bought mine here. [image attachment] maybe i should bring one…

kageyama couldn’t help but laugh at that one. did you really have such specific preferences?

hey, do you think rome has nice soy sauce? just bring it.

how cold does it get there? tokyo is much colder, just bring your lighter coats.

he could just try. what’s the worst that could happen, right?

“hey.” he feels bad as you flinch at his sudden appearance, having half a mind to scurry back to the safety of your apartment, but it was too late—you have been spotted. “the door isn’t going to bite.”

“oh, hey, i wasn’t sure if you were home.” you rub the back of your head sheepishly.

“our practice ended late, what’s up?” he spies the stack of curry cube packages under your other arm, the thought of you remembering the stupid text he sent without thinking and bringing him all those boxes from japan making him flush.

he puts a mental hand over his heart to calm it from jumping out of his ribcage into your hands.

gods above, the effect that you have on him with every little gesture, all of them flying blissfully over your head. that’s one thing he can thank the gods for, at least.

you hand him the stack, tucking a stray curl of hair behind your ear. “a token of appreciation for all your troubles, kageyama.”

and because he was feeling a little bold, he jokes, “are you the same y/n who turned up at my door a month ago?”

“oh, you’re one to speak,” you roll your eyes, the corners of your lips twitching in a small smile. “there are two wolves in me, okay? one is batshit nuts, you know her, the one you see on court. the other one is me, and you drew the short stick today.”

kageyama knows he’s nowhere close to getting over you with the way the smallest hint of a smile from you sends his heart skittering, the way he is offering up everything he has to the role he has been asked to play so that you might shine freely once again, not for him but for you.

despite the stamped out selfish hope that maybe, maybe you might fall for him this time, he earnestly wants to weather the passing storm by your side, so you might walk out to clear blue skies, cloudless and unburdened. so you might smile freely once more, even if it's not meant for him.

“wanna come in? i’m making pasta for dinner.” he holds up the bag of groceries he picked up from the corner shop on the way home.

you hesitate, not unwillingly, more so from not wanting to intrude on his personal space. “you don’t have to—”

“you’ve already shown up unannounced once, what’s another?”

you flush with embarrassment at the thought of that time. not your brightest moment. “gods, will you ever let me live that down? i really don’t want to be a bother.”

“c’mon, you’re not. promise.” he gestures for you to enter his apartment.

you lean against his counter awkwardly as you watch him lay out the ingredients, prepping the table surface to actually make pasta from scratch. he notes the surprise on your face.

“i actually can’t cook very well, but making pasta is surprisingly therapeutic.” kageyama explains while he measures out the flour and salt, making a well in the center of the mixture to crack the eggs in. he whisks the eggs before slowly stirring in the flour mixture methodically.

“wanna try?” he offers after seeing the entranced look in your eyes. you nod, scrubbing your hands with soap before taking over the kneading of the pasta dough from kageyama.

he watches you quietly as you poke the tip of your tongue out the side, attention completely focused on folding and pressing the dough and repeating the motion, taking note of the downward turn of the corners of your eyes, the haunted look in your eyes when you forget to hide it.

your hand waving in his face breaks him out of his thoughts. “kageyama?”

“what happened to your formalities?” he blurts. where is the line between us?

you give him a questioning look.

he corrects himself, “i’m kageyama-san to you, and you’re kuroo-san to me, remember?”

“oh, that. i’m not kuroo-san anymore. we finalized our divorce before i moved here. if you prefer that, i can go back to calling you kageyama-san.” you brush your divorce off as if it is ancient history, as if it doesn’t leave an emptiness in your chest where you used to feel love for him.

“i’m sorry to hear that.” he shouldn’t have asked. for various reasons not limited to the way the hope in him perks its head up at the confirmation that kuroo is out of your life for good.

“it’s fine, it’s been coming, i just chose to look the other way.” you squint at the dough, suddenly kneading it with more force, your previous child-like delight now gone at the mention of your failed marriage.

kageyama really shouldn’t have asked. he hates to be the one who took away your fun and soured your mood with that question. that you still look devastatingly beautiful despite the sorrow etched in your soul.

“you can call me tobio. since we are friends outside of work now.” he hopes that his hair is covering the warm tips of his ears.

“sure,” you shrug, “you know you’re the only one who called me that or oumae-san anyway, right? old man.”

“oh wow, going right to insulting me. is this your other wolf appearing?” he shoots back drily as he nudges you out of the way. “go put something on the tv, we need to rest the dough for twenty minutes.”

your clear and bright laughter fills his apartment as you back out of the kitchen, hands up in surrender, a sparkle in your eyes and that smile appearing on your lips, chasing away the darkness.

he thinks this may not be as hard as he thought after all, playful banters with you. anything to chase away your ghosts.

and suddenly the one-bedroom apartment feels like home to kageyama tobio.

months slip by, summer’s warmth finally giving way to crunchy leaves beneath your feet and cool breezes caressing your skin softly with a lover’s touch.

kageyama tobio and you are nothing if not creatures of routine, taking turns at your apartments during the weekdays to make dinner since it’s so much easier to make dinner for two than one and significantly time-saving to not have to go through the twenty steps of cooking by yourself every day.

though you find yourself at his apartment more than yours, his skillful hands diligently prepping ingredients, slicing them with precision, following the recipe methodically with you as his assistant (who lounges at kitchen island a little too much, head on hand, watching him work, because gods, his hands, larger than your own, fingers unbelievably slender and elegant despite all the training he puts them through. you are envious of them, and just a tad obsessed.)

tobio would catch you staring sometimes, and you would look away, pretend to be unfazed, ignoring the blood racing through your veins. gods really do have a favorite.

you grew to enjoy his company, so unlike the quiet solitude of home that you were used to. his dry humor and his quiet steady presence. his cooking, really. you wonder what his fans would make of that, since he had once admitted to being a bad cook in an interview that lives on somewhere on the internet.

perhaps that precision of his is the reason the food he makes tastes so sinfully delicious on your tongue.

you had felt restless at first, unused to having so much time on your hands after being used to spending most of your own free time for more practice, more work, since kuroo was rarely home before the late hours of the night.

it never quite felt like home without him in that ninety-five square meter apartment—larger than most middle class homes yet so devoid of life and love that makes somewhere home. the luxury that you were able to afford given the size of your paychecks was never quite put to good use in those two years of your marriage.

“i’m feeling like some gelato today, want some?”

kageyama joins you out on the balcony, wiping his wet hands on the black cat apron you bought for him on a whim—a gift. it reminded you of his image in most people’s minds, a hissy and fussy cat who hates people, and to be honest (and maybe a little biased), you do enjoy that side of him.

it’s endearing, especially since you’re one of the few special humans that the picky cat likes. he really does act like a cat.

he had moved to italy a year before you, and being more familiar with the local culture, quickly became your go-to person to help you navigate the everyday life responsibilities from setting up your internet to the oddly laxed city disposal system. or the unlucky time your air conditioning stopped working in the peak of summer, barely weeks into your new apartment, your broken italian barely any help as you attempt to call a technician.

you remember having to resort to knocking on his door with a sheepish smile, rambling about the bind you were in and asking him if he could talk to the technician on your behalf. he had nodded, taking the phone from you and speaking into it, italian rough but so much more fluent than yours. his usually deep solemn voice just half a pitch higher and more expressive.

his unresponsiveness had you twiddling your thumbs in nervousness as he padded into your apartment, still on the phone and with you following closely, and proceeded to slam a fist into the side of the air conditioning unit before turning it back on.

the unit sputtered to life and you sighed in relief. “oh thank the gods.”

“the technician said he’ll stop by tomorrow in the evening because he has other calls to attend to from the unusually hot weather. i’ll be back from practice by then.”

“thank you, tobio.” you had smiled at him gratefully. you hated having to rely on other people for help with things that you should be able to do on your own, so accustomed to being hyperindependent, but tobio makes it easy to come to him for help. mostly due to the fact that he never makes you feel bad about asking for help, even though you do still feel bad about bothering him with all the stupid everyday life problems.

you had somehow wormed your way into his life and he had graciously allowed you to stay beyond all the times that you needed his help, steadily and unknowingly becoming your dearest friend.

you hum in response, giving gelato another thought since the air is turning chilly as the sun dips lower over the horizon, dusk creeping closer by the minute. “sure, why not?”

now, walking through the streets of rome at dusk in the cool autumnal weather for gelato was not what you expected when you agreed to it. you had expected smooth cold gelato melting on your tongue in the comfort and warmth of tobio’s apartment. not this.

goosebumps scattered across your skin under your sweater, teeth chattering slightly thanks to the cold dessert dropping your body heat further. your stubborn ass had rejected tobio’s offer of a jacket at the door, thinking your sweater would be warm enough for the autumn breezes.

apparently not if you’re eating gelato.

you didn’t have the heart to tell him no after finding out that the little trip would entail trekking fifteen minutes into the city and then back, with gelato, on a cool autumn night.

tobio has a way of making you go along with his whims without even trying.

you let out another shiver, cold fingers gripping the paper cup. he stifles his low chuckle by stuffing another spoonful of gelato in his mouth.

“what?” you narrow your eyes at the man, challenging him to say it. i told you so.

he shrugs, licking his spoon clean.

you look away from him, shoving the last mouthful of gelato between your cold cheeks and dumping the paper cup and spoon into a trashcan as you pass by.

a heavy warmth settles over your shoulders as you stick your hands into your pockets, surprise lining your eyes for a few seconds before realization sets in that tobio is draping his jacket over your shoulders.

tobio, who’s always known what you needed when you needed it. tobio, who’s always done it without guilt tripping you, no ‘i told you so’s or ‘you should have listened to me’s. tobio, who welcomed you into his life and stayed without asking for anything in return, his warm and steady presence providing you comfort just from knowing that he is right next to you.

the light brushes against your elbows when you work in the kitchen, arriving just as you space out a little too much while waiting for the onions to cook or staring out the window, the task before you forgotten. the gentle touches that grounds you back to reality, a quiet reminder that you are not alone.

you wonder if he knows how he makes you feel at ease, at home, and sometimes, when you catch a soft knowing smile on his lips at your boisterous laughter, you wonder if he is doing it with intention.

what kind of heroic deeds did you do in your past life to earn the favor of the gods?

you spin around to face him, only to have him take a step back as a biker zooms by, hands gripping your shoulders, pushing you away from the hazard, his back towards the open street. he glances back at the rider who is long gone, frowning at their carelessness.

his cheeks are pink from the cold, navy eyes sweeping over you to check that you’re fine.

“are you cold?” you ask him, hands already moving to return the jacket to its owner.

“no, keep it.”

you nod your thanks and pull your arms through the sleeves. your silhouette drowns in his already oversized jacket. the remnants of his warmth and the thickness of his jacket keep you warm the entire way home, just as it always does.

tobio shoves his hands in his pockets, tilting his head in the direction of your apartments, towards home. tobio, who had teased you and laughed with you, sat with you in silence and talked to you over dinner, walked with you on that rocky path back towards the light.

somewhere deep inside you, the smallest bud springs to life on a barren branch, hope, quiet and unsure, stirs in its dormancy.

the lines between you and kageyama tobio keep rewriting themselves.

lines that were blurred and redrawn, over and over until the first lines were unrecognizable. it feels like drawing lines on sand, only to have waves wiping the slate clean, leaving you to hastily put down some semblance of a line.

as if the gods are laughing in your face, telling you that you are wrong and to try again.

so you threw the stick away.

it was not a conscious decision, not at first. you had just accidentally let it slip, the thing that kept you up at night, the whispers that only quieted at the sight of the midnight skies. the endless expanse of it and the deep blue hues stretching as far as the eye could see, occasionally broken up by wafts of clouds floating through.

lighter than the dark skies of your hometown in rural japan where there was less light pollution from the sparse street lights dotting the farmlands. but it was the same skies, same stars light years away from earth that your obaasan taught you to navigate with if you ever got lost in the forest behind your home.

the home you left behind to chase after your dreams in the city, and with it, your grandmother. the home you left again once more to outrun your bad decisions.

tobio, to his credit, had listened intently to you on his balcony that night, both of you sitting cross-legged with your backs against the door, elbows grazing lightly, and assured you that your fears were in fact, not stupid.

maybe it’s his comforting presence, or the way he ponders over the secrets you handed to him without judgment, but you seem to spill at the seams when he is around, unafraid to bare your soul to your—kindred spirit. maybe it’s the words that fall from his lips meant only for you, roughly thrown together, not without care, merely earnest and unembellished, sincerity clear in his focused gaze.

though certainly, bringing up one of your deepest fears in the middle of a farmer’s market was the last thing on your mind, and tobio’s, you are sure. yet here you are, words pouring out from your heart at the sight of flowers, one of the last hurdles that still sticks tall.

“do you think one day i won’t be broken anymore?” you gently thumb the soft petal of an amaryllis, feeling the ever so slight give under the pad of your thumb grounding you from the pain that your memories brought to the surface.

tobio frowns at your words—he hates them. “you’re not broken.” if you were not in public, with people weaving around the different stalls, he might have tried to shake some sense into you, literally.

oh, if only he knew. your heart twists, hand dropping to your side, flower forgotten. “he was in love with the idea of me. with an olympic setter as his wife, the trophy to his jva corner office. and i was too blind to see it, even tricked myself into thinking that i was in love, when really all along, we were just in pain.”

you point at where your heart resides, finger digging into the soft flesh cushioning your sternum. “in here. i’m irreversibly broken deep in here. some part of me that rots in the darkness, never able to see the light of day. despite having fallen out of love with him months ago, stopped expecting anything from him, i fear that i’m still broken, tobio.”

the tip of your index finger—and nail—turning white with the amount of force you’re prodding yourself with. as if you wished you could pluck the beating broken but healing organ out of your chest and replace it with an undamaged one. nothing but a strangled mess of scarred tissue growing over old wounds that bleed with ease, too much ease. still fucking broken.

“you are more than that. more than that wounded part of yourself that you’re healing. you’re not broken.” he deftly draws your hand away from yourself, holding it because he wanted to, drawing circles into the back of your hand to remind you that you are not alone. the crowd melts away, leaving the two of you in your bubble of imagined intimacy. “you’re not broken.”

“i can’t even look at my favorite flowers without being reminded of the times he would buy them as a late apology and a rain check he never made up for. and i would wonder if there’s something wrong with me, some explanation as to why having a husband is no more different than not having one.” you blink rapidly, fingers tightening on his hand as if he could keep the helplessness at bay that way. “some reason as to why it felt more like living with a stranger i love under the same roof in that last year. he just had something to prove and i just wanted him to love me.”

“when you find the right person, they will love you the way you deserve to be loved, with everything they have. they will make sure you never doubt yourself ever again.” tobio pins you with a determined stare, the words weighing heavy on his heart, knowing that he might have you to himself in this very moment, but not forever. not forever.

does he have to watch you fall in love this time? gods, they really have it out for him. would he even survive it this time?

you falter, hand around his slacking in defeat. “you don’t know that.”

you cannot fathom anyone choosing to love you, with all the jagged edges and uncertainty.

“i know that you deserve more than him, so don’t settle for anything less than you do. trust that the right person will come along.” he says it with so much conviction that you could have mistaken him for one of the gods that chart your destiny.

you wanted to ask him why—why he seems to believe that with his whole heart despite yourself—but the brush on your sleeve from a passing shopper breaks you out of the imaginary depths of your fears, shattering the illusion of privacy.

what had gotten into you today?

you recover from your momentary meltdown in public, instincts to guard and deflect kicking in among the many ears that could be listening to a conversation that should have been kept behind closed doors. “are you speaking from experience?”

“never been in a relationship, actually.” he smiles a wistful smile at you, deciding to release his hold on your hand—as if he himself also just remembered that you are in the public eye.

“huh, i would have thought otherwise.”

tobio rolls his eyes playfully at your teasing. “don’t even start, i know i’m not good with words.”

“no, really. it’s a wonder you haven’t been snatched up by anyone yet.”

“now you're just flattering me because you want me to make the carbonara pasta that you’ve been begging me to make for the past week.”

you gape at him, in disbelief that he would use that against you when you are doing nothing but giving him a sincere compliment.

“i’m being real here. whoever you choose to love would be lucky to have you. and if they don’t feel that way, it’s their loss, really.” you gesture with an outsplayed hand, turning back to the selection of flowers, wandering down the row of autumnal varieties.

tobio presses two fingers to his temple, sighing as he mutters under his breath, exasperated words a soft whisper on the breeze, “too bad she’s too dense to realize it.”

he panics a little at the thought of you picking his words up as you turn around with your head tipped to the side in confusion, “what did you say?”

“nothing, just that the amaryllis is pretty. you should get it.” he blurts, just happy that his muddled brain was able to come with something on the spot. never mind that he just name dropped a flower, one of many that he learnt because you once loved them, still do, it seems, just tainted by your past.

you shake your head at him, already looking forward. “it’s alright, let’s go look at the other stalls.” moving on from the remnants of a relationship you moved to italy to outrun, and leaving them behind.

“wait,” a sudden thought pops into tobio’s mind, and he decides to do it without letting himself overthink it. before he loses his courage.

you watch quietly as he picks out a stalk of carnation, a dusty pink that lightens slightly towards the tip of the petal and hands it to the shopkeeper, exchanging a few words before paying and returning with a very short stem.

“i know you still love flowers even though they are tainted by your past,” tobio swallows, hoping he does not fuck this up like he always seem to with his words, “but i want you to know that you deserve flowers just because. it doesn’t have to be an apology, or a special occasion. you deserve them just because you like them, simple as that.”

he takes a step closer to you, watching you carefully for any hints of discomfort or anguish that you might try to hide from him for his sake—hoping that you are comfortable around him enough not to.

you find yourself holding in your breath as you meet his eyes, mesmerized by the blue of his irises up close, warm cobalt shades dancing in the light, as if they were welcoming you, reminiscent of the night skies that fall after dusk, the same navy hues that lull you to safety.

he tucks your hair behind your ear, his touch featherlike as he slips the carnation over the crest of your ear. “there. one day the first thought that crosses your mind when you see them will not be of him, but of how pretty they are again.”

a blink. “thank you.” the words are choked, as a wave of emotions envelop you whole. you throw your arms around him haphazardly, hugging him tightly with your eyes squeezed shut for fear of your tear ducts betraying you, leaning on him for balance with your weight on the tip of your toes because of his height.

you yield to his warmth, comforted by his arms sliding into place around you, the familiarity tugging on a memory that you cannot seem to recover, a nagging feeling of something you forgot as seconds tick by.

“thank you, tobio.” you say it again, releasing him shyly when you realize that you held on for moments too long, brushing at your eyes with the back of your hand for any stray tears, chuckling lightly at how emotional you are being.

somehow it feels as if a weight has been lifted off your chest after hearing his words.

“you are loved, y/n, by your family and friends, and your fans. you are the setter who will dethrone kageyama tobio’s rule of the court, remember?”

you recognize the quote from one of the japanese magazines that you and tobio managed to get a hold of. it makes you laugh—the type that sends tears pooling at the edge of your eyes, leaving you breathless and light and feeling like everything will be alright—and you smile at him.

it feels strangely like coming home after a long day.

there is a twinkle in your eyes, the return of your genuine self as you ask, “and what of kageyama tobio?”

your smile hits him like the first ray of warm sunlight when snow melts away to reveal the tiny buds sprouting at the nodes of tree branches, that first truly warm day after winter when you know that spring is here. and just like the trees that have weathered the cold season, you are shaking off the cold in your bones, ready to bloom again.

that pureness in your smile—the invisible pull that drew him into your orbit almost three years ago now emerging reforged.

gods, you are nothing short of devastating. he knows he will never be able to love anyone else like he loves you, describing it as intense does not do it justice. try all-encompassing and consuming, leaving him defenseless and dazed and wanting more.

is that wrong of him to feel that way? that if given a choice by the gods to do it all over again, he would still choose to love you? that there is nothing he would not do, no hell he would not descend, no winter he would not weather, just to see you smile at him unadulterated?

“he believes that you are the queen of the court.”

your smile does not falter. it deepens, reaching your eyes, curving them into joyful crescents that send his heart thundering at an inhuman pace.

“thank you for being here. i am beginning to realize what it means to live.” you make me want to live. the unspoken words hanging in space between you.

for the first time in a very long time, tobio finds himself praying to the gods that have long abandoned him. he can only hope that they are listening.

taglist. @hatsukeii @daisy-room @soulfullystarry @kitsune-kita @bakery-anon @thechaosoflonging @bakingcuriosity (gen) @mintgrumpy @noble-17 @box-of-roses (tobio nation) @hiraethwrote @shouyuus @yogurtkags @mcdonaldsnumberone (add yourself here)

a/n. i sprinkled lots of little details in this one hehehe (like how it is apartment to tobio before it becomes a home) how many did you find? *giggles while plotting* it's fluffier than i intended so i hope you enjoyed <33

awaiting updates? browse the library while waiting

if you liked this, please consider leaving a like, comment, rb or ask <3 (perhaps i enjoy breaking hearts a little too much)

#haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #kageyama #kageyama tobio #kageyama x reader #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama angst #kageyama fic #hq #kageyama tobio angst #kageyama x you #kageyama x y/n #hiraethwa writes #《 to be loved is to be known 》

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stevie-petey · 11 months ago

Text

episode nine: the beginning

“No, I understand.” Steve smiles and then points to the wall of comics behind you. “So, if we’re going to be friends, I gotta ask about your Spider-Man obsession.” “Oh, now that’s just too personal. This is like, day three of our friendship. At least ask what my favorite color is, first.” Steve laughs again and nods. “Alright, fair. What is your favorite color, then?” And this is the beginning of your friendship with Steve Harrington.

summary: BONUS EPISODE TIME ! steve becomes bookstrorindary's favorite loyal costumer, jonathan buys you a bug for christmas, you freak out your poor coworker alex, and suddenly steve is really hot and you're feeling so many feelings (bad ! it's all bad !).

rating: general, some swearing

warnings: swearing, angst ending (sorry gang), fem!reader and use of y/n

words: 6.5k

before you swing in: surprise ! bonus chapter that takes place between seasons 1 and 2. basically, as the title says, it's the beginning of everything between steve and reader. this is where everything starts to take shape, their beginning dynamic, and ultimately the horrible timing of it all. life is hard, steve is hot, and reader just wants to heal her physical and metaphorical wounds. enjoy !

November 15th, 1983

When Steve Harrington walks into Bookstrordinary your first day back, you think your lingering concussion from the monster is causing you to hallucinate.

You had been struggling to reshelf some books, your crutches being a burden and hard to balance with as you stack, when the bell above the front door alerted you of someone’s arrival.

“Welcome to Bookstrordinary, how can I help you–” You place the last back in the shelf and turn around, not expecting who you see. “Steve?”

He smiles at you and shoves his hands in his bomber jacket. “Hey, Y/N.”

“What are you doing here?”

“You can’t figure out my nickname if we don’t hang out, right? So,” He shrugs, as if this is just another Monday for him. “I’m here.”

You stare at him for a moment, unsure what exactly to do. While you hadn’t been lying when you told Steve that you guys could be friends, you hadn’t expected him to jump at the opportunity so quickly. His eyebrow is still healing from his fight with Jonathan in the alley and you’re stuck with crutches for the next two weeks.

Wounds are still healing. You figured Steve would take some time to collect himself, but it appears that he simply doesn’t care, or maybe it doesn’t matter to him.

“How did you know I even worked here?” You ask the boy, now making your way over to the front counter where he stands.

Steve chuckles. “You really can’t give me credit for anything, can you? I pay attention, Y/N. I can be observant.”

“It’s not like that,” you’re quick to correct, scared that Steve will think you see him as some mean jock. “I just… I’m not used to people paying attention to me, I guess.”

You pause and make a face, not liking the way that sounds. “That sounded incredibly gross and cheesy, huh?”

“No, I understand.” Steve smiles and then points to the wall of comics behind you. “So, if we’re going to be friends, I gotta ask about your Spider-Man obsession.”

“Oh, now that’s just too personal. This is like, day three of our friendship. At least ask what my favorite color is, first.”

Steve laughs again and nods. “Alright, fair. What is your favorite color, then?”

And this is the beginning of your friendship with Steve Harrington.

He spends almost two hours the first day at your job, asking you questions about yourself, your favorite food and color and animal, which genre of books you prefer, anything and everything he can think of to get to know you better, Steve asks it.

At first you’re unnerved by his onslaught of questions, but slowly you find yourself opening up to him and enjoying having Steve with you. He makes your last few hours of work bearable and fun. Before you know it, you begin asking him your own questions. You learn that he loves banana bread, secretly enjoys helping his mom around the house, and that blue is his favorite color.

When your coworker Alex walks in to take over the next shift and finds you leaning against the counter talking to Steve, he almost spits out the milkshake he had been drinking. “S–Steve Harrington?”

Steve tenses for a second and, before your very eyes, he morphs into his King Steve persona effortlessly. You’re not sure what exactly he changes about himself, but he becomes more closed off, guarded, with an air of authority that frightens you a little. “Hey, kid. Do I know you?”

Alex shakes his head, too stunned to speak.

“That’s my coworker, Alex.” You take pity on the poor kid. He’s only a year younger than you, but you suppose that a junior like Steve, someone well known and admired throughout the school, can be intimidating.

“Nice to meet ya, buddy. I’m assuming that Y/N here is off the clock now?”

“Y–yes.” Alex squeaks out.

The bell above the door rings again, this time announcing Jonathan’s arrival.

He walks in, distracted with some groceries in his arms, so when he finally looks up and sees you, Steve, and Alex all standing in a circle staring at him, he freezes. “Well, this is an interesting sight.”

Steve ducks his head, his King persona quickly fading away. “Hey, Jonathan.”

“Steve,” Jonathan responds cooly, looking between you and him as if trying to figure out a complex math equation.

Great.

You clear your throat and step away from Steve, heading to the back of the store to collect your things and clock out. “Just give me a minute or two to grab my things, then I’ll be all set to leave, Jonathan.”

He nods at you, still staring at Steve like he’s some foreign creature, and you quickly hobble away to avoid any interaction between them. You’re not sure why having the two of them in the same room as you feels so wrong, but your head still aches from its concussion and your ribs are so bruised that breathing still hurts, so you really don’t have the time to figure any of it out.

While you’re gone, Steve and Jonathan continue to stare each other down.

“Picking Y/N up?” Steve guesses, eyeing the keys in Jonathan’s hand and the groceries in the other.

“Yeah, kinda something I’ve always done.”

“Right.”

Jonathan readjusts his grip on one of the grocery bags, having nothing better to do as he waits for you. Alex busies himself with rearranging some books at the counter, clearly equally as uncomfortable as the two teens are.

Steve lets a whistle out and awkwardly stuffs his hands into his pockets. Jonathan watches him in curiosity. The scab on his eyebrow has almost healed over, but Jonathan still gets a kick of pride seeing it. He’d done that. He’d marred King Steve’s handsome face.

“Are you, like… Y/N’s friend now?” Asks Jonathan, the question heavy on his mind. He trusts your judgment of people, he knows you can read people better than anyone else, but having Steve around you makes him uneasy. The guy had been a grade A dick to you and him for years, especially his bullshit friends Carol and Tommy.

“We made a compromise,” Steve says, a hint of humor in his voice.

Jonathan frowns. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well–”

“Okay, let’s go!” You walk back in, fearful of whatever conversation you’ve interrupted.

Jonathan watches as Steve immediately turns to you, as if drawn in by your mere presence, and he starts to wonder exactly what the boy’s intentions are with you. All you did was walk into the room, and yet Steve is hanging onto your every word.

He doesn't blame him, god he doesn't. It’s you. You could command a room with just your smile alone, but Jonathan isn’t used to sharing that with others.

Especially not with people like Steve.

“Will you be working tomorrow?” Steve asks you, a twinkle in his eye.

You nod at him. “Mhm, I work every day after school. On weekends I’m usually home doing homework or keeping that one in check.”

You point at Jonathan, who laughs. “Guilty.”

“Then I’ll see you at the same time tomorrow?” Steve doesn’t even look over at Jonathan, which he rolls his eyes at.

“See ya then.” You smile wide at Steve and for some reason Jonathan really wants to throw the bag of eggs he’s holding.

This was not what he had been expecting when he told you earlier he’d be picking you up after getting his mom some groceries.

And had someone told Jonathan that the rest of sophomore year would go on like this, he probably would’ve thrown the bag of eggs at Steve then.

–

True to his word, Steve comes by and visits you almost every day leading up to winter break. He becomes a regular, hanging around the counter talking to you about anything and everything. The first few days you had been a bit nervous that your boss, Mrs. Waters, would have a problem with him, but she quickly dispelled your concerns.

“Oh, that handsome young man? He can stay as long as he likes. I think he’s the reason we’ve been getting so many young customers recently.”

You look around and realize that, yeah, there is in fact a new group of freshmen girls who have started stopping by and browsing the romance section. You’ve noticed the way they stop and stare at Steve while he talks to you, whispering and giggling to themselves.

Steve pays them no mind, always too busy talking about basketball or his latest issue with Nancy.

That’s been the one downside to all of this, really.

You’re happy the two of you are friends, but between Jonathan’s moaning about the girl and now Steve’s worrying that he’ll never be good enough, you’re kinda sick of talking about Nancy Wheeler.

Which is a shame, you actually quite admire the girl.

“And today she looked at me in the hallway and I think she even smiled–”

“Steve,” you interrupt him, a headache forming. “Like I’ve told you a million times now, she needs some time. It’s only been a few weeks, I think she’s still recovering from what happened at Jonathan’s. She also lost Barb, you can’t forget that.”

You don’t tell Steve about the whole Jonathan and Nancy situation, partly because it isn’t your place, and partly because you’re not sure if it will do more harm than good.

The boy nods, looking crestfallen. “Yeah, you’re right. I just… I want to get this right, ya know?”

“I know, and you will. Just… let her come to you, but also show that you’re still there for her. Does that make sense?”

“Yes. Got it. Stay at a distance, but in a smooth way.”

You snort. “Not how I would’ve phrased that, but sure.”

You go back to counting the change in your register, beginning the early stages of closing up for the night. Jonathan will be here in about twenty minutes, you’ve come to learn that if you distract Steve when he’s here, then there’s fewer awkward interactions.

You’re hoping that once Nancy figures out which boy she wants that you can then all be friends, but until then you’re stuck with being an uncomfortable middleman who just wants to drive home with you best friend in peace after spending a lovely evening with your new and endearing friend.

Speaking of your new and endearing friend, Steve begins to tap his fingers against the countertop, fidgeting around. Amongst the many things you’ve learned about Steve these last few weeks, you’ve also learned that he absolutely hates silence and standing still.

“Okay,” you place your hand over his fingers, stopping his tapping. “I’m going to start closing, how about I give you a list of the books and comics I need to bring home with me? It’ll make closing go by faster.”

Steve perks up, happy to be given something to do. “Alright, I can do that. What are they for, though?”

“Most of the comics will be for the boys; it'll be their Christmas gifts. The rest, the books mostly, will be for myself. I like to add them to my bookshelf at home.”

“No way,” Steve’s eyes light up and he leans in close, a teasing smile on his face. “Am I about to get a look into Y/N Henderson’s mind?”

You shoo him off your counter, grabbing your crutches to start restocking books for tomorrow. Steve follows close behind, carefully watching your steps to make sure you don’t fall. “I wouldn’t be too happy, I doubt you’d be able to figure out which comics are for me and which are for the kids. As for the books… well, guess I’ll have to make you sign a contract stating our friendship is legally binding. Can’t embarrass myself.”

“I’d gladly sign it,” Steve says, without even hesitating.

You stumble a bit and he’s quick to steady you. Steve does that sometimes, says things that make you feel like you feel hazy and warm. Too warm. You’re not used to his candidness yet; Steve doesn’t hide how he’s feeling, he’s an open book.

You’re not sure if his open vulnerability is a good thing, but you’re slowly starting to find it nice. Pleasant, almost.

“Anyways,” you shake your head, trying to clear your mind and ignore whatever cologne Steve is wearing that makes your head spin. “The list is in my backpack by the counter. Grab it and start hunting, soldier.”

Steve salutes you and does as he’s told. In no time he’s wandering the bookstore, humming to himself as he skims the many shelves and aisles to find everything you need. You busy yourself with your own job, arranging a new shipment of books so that Alex has a calm opening shift the next morning.

The freshmen girls have long since left, leaving you and Steve alone. Mrs. Waters is somewhere in her office, probably seeing if there’s any way to hire Steve, and it’s nice being alone with him. The two of you work silently side by side, he diligently works on his task and you can’t help but sneak a few glances when he’s not looking.

Steve Harrington has always been attractive, you can’t deny that, but learning this gentler and nerdier side of him has only increased his attractiveness tenfold. Pair him with Nancy and it’s no wonder the two of them were such a hit at school. They make a beautiful pair, something you almost envy.

Just as you’ve finished stacking the last of the new shipment, the bell rings in the store. You look up, seeing Jonathan, and feel yourself smile. He looks more tired today, though you suppose it’s because he’s basically become the kids’ chauffeur now that he’s no longer working. He claims that he doesn’t mind, but you know he secretly wishes you were there to help.

“Rough day, bee?”

He nods, walking over to you and places his head against your shoulder, letting out a dramatic groan. “Dustin insisted I drive them to the quarry to reenact Will’s body being retrieved. It was morbid, and yet… Kinda funny.”

“I…” you’re speechless, in complete disbelief. “Those boys are horrible, I love their freakish little brains.”

“What’d they do now?” Steve appears, a giant stack of comics and books in his arms. “Hey, Jonathan.”

“Steve,”

You gently remove Jonathan from your shoulder and face Steve. “They reenacted Will’s dead body being found in the quarry. A typical Friday afternoon, really.”

Steve’s jaw drops, equally as speechless as you were, and you and Jonathan laugh at him. “They sound insane.”

“If we’re going to be friends, you really gotta get used to the boys.” You tell him with a shrug.

Jonathan walks over to the counter and grabs your backpack, then goes to Steve and holds it open, motioning for him to place all the comics and books in there. “She’s right, you know.”

Steve lets a chuckle out, a hint of nervousness mixed in with delight as he drops your stuff in the bag. “I know, she’s always right. That’s what scares me.”

You blush and leave the boys on their own to go inform Mrs. Waters that you’re closing up. You hear them start whispering to each other as you leave, and you make a mental note to badger Jonathan about it on the drive home. While you’re relieved they seem to be getting along tonight, you absolutely cannot have them forming an alliance against you. They’d lose, of course, but still.

–

Winter break comes and you spend the first half of it with your family and the Byers. Your mom has slowly started letting you out the house again. When you came home with a sprained ankle, crutches, and bruised ribs, she’d almost fainted. You were promptly placed under house arrest, only allowed out for work and school, but you didn’t mind.

It takes some pleading, you manage to convince her to allow you to bike to the Byers’ on Christmas to deliver your treats for them. When she agreed, you were giddy, finally having some time to yourself.

Though it’s snowing, you enjoy the beautiful serenity of it all. The layer of white, untouched and pristine, falling around the pine trees like a blanket tucking you in after a long day, makes you smile.

It’s always so lovely seeing Will and Joyce and you wish you could stay longer, but your mom had been firm when she told you to be back within the hour, so you deliver the cookies and bid your farewells before Jonathan drives you home.

After your conversation, making him promise that things will always remain the same between you two, the car ride is silent once more. You’re okay with this, finding that you’ve come to miss your comfortable silences with Jonathan. They’ve become few and far between ever since Will’s reappearance. You’ve both been busy attending to him and the boys, trying to make everything as normal as possible again.

When Jonathan pulls into your driveway, you unbuckle your seatbelt and lean over to kiss his cheek, but he stops you. “Hold on, I figured we’d do our gift exchange early this year.”

You gasp. “Did you plan this?”

For years now, you and Jonathan have given each other your gifts the day after Christmas so that it’s just the two of you, no one else, experiencing the moment. You love the tradition, it’s become your favorite part of Christmas.

“Maybe,” he laughs, wrapping around his seat to get to the back. He pulls out a small box that’s so poorly wrapped, you know he did it all by himself. “Here, open it.”

“But your gift is inside, I didn’t–”

“Shush and open the gift, damnit.”

“How sweet,” you tease, but eagerly begin tearing at the wrapping paper. Jonathan has always given you the most obscure and wonderful gifts, every year he somehow manages to surprise you. You tear off the last piece of wrapping paper and open the small box, gasping when you see what’s inside. “Jonathan… you didn’t.”

Inside the box is a beautiful silver necklace. The chain itself is simple, it’s the pendant attached to it that takes your breath away.

Dangling from the necklace is a bee, no bigger than a centimeter or so.

There’s small diamonds in its wings and the necklace itself is minimal, something you’d only notice if you were paying attention, and it’s the most precious gift you’ve ever been given. You touch it delicately, the metal cool against your fingertips.

Jonathan gives you a boyish smile. “Figured we could match.”

“What–” He raises his right hand and for the first time you notice a ring on his index finger. You gasp again and snatch his hand, bringing it closer to your face so you can get a better look. The ring has a thick silver band, and there, in its center, is a ladybug as small as your bee. The ladybug is all silver, its wings integrated through the ring’s band. “Jonathan…”

“Do you like it? I found the jewelry at a garage sale this summer. Came as a pair,” Jonathan wraps the hand you’re inspecting around your own. “Almost like fate knew I’d find it for us, ya know? Bug and bee, you and me.”

You have so many things you want to say, but the words are stuck in your throat and all you want to do is grab Jonathan and pull him in and never, ever let him go. “You’ve had the jewelry for months?”

“Hardest secret I’ve had to keep from you, honestly.”

You laugh and cry and kiss Jonathan’s cheek a million times. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Things are finally starting to feel alright again. Here the two of you are, parked in your driveway in Jonathan’s rundown car, off in your own little world for the first time in months. It’s just the two of you, no one else, with only the falling snow as your company.

You couldn’t be happier. You feel complete again, whole, with Jonathan’s pinky promise from earlier as your oath.

“I feel bad,” you say as Jonathan walks you to your door. “For Christmas all I got you were cassettes. Had I known you were being sentimental this year I would’ve given you a lock of my hair or something.”

Jonathan laughs, and the sound doesn’t hurt you as much as it used to.

–

Working the day after Christmas has always been your favorite shift. No one ever comes in, it’s always just been you, your books, and your comics for five blissful hours.

Somehow, you should’ve known that Steve would stop by anyways.

You’re admiring your new necklace in a mirror when he walks in, all bundled up due to the flurry of snow that’s encasing Hawkins.

“How do you always manage to know when I’ll be working?” You ask him in lieu of a greeting.

Steve unzips his coat and hangs it up. “A magician never reveals his secrets, Y/N.”

“Boring, I say they should.”

“Well,” he walks over with both hands behind his back, hiding something, which you raise your eyebrows at. “Instead of my secrets, can we compromise on revealing a gift instead?”

You gape at him. “Please tell me you didn’t.”

“Oh, I did.”

“Steve! I didn’t even get you anything, I hate being empty handed! This is literally my worst nightmare–”

Steve places the box on the counter with a devilish smile on his face. “Just shush and open it, Y/N.”

“But–”

“Open it.”

You sigh, very much against this entire thing, but curiosity gets the better of you. Steve has only been your friend for barely a month now, what could he have possibly gotten you? The wrapping is well done, vastly neater than Jonathan’s had been, which you comment on.

Steve blushes. “My mom sorta helped me wrap it.”

Something warm settles in your stomach at the idea of Steve’s mom helping him wrap his gift for you. “Tell her that I admire her tasteful wrapping skills.”

Steve chuckles and tells you he will, but he’s too focused on watching you slowly unwrap the gift. Inside is a rectangular box, thin but sturdy, and you look up at your friend curiously. “What’s this?”

“Open it and see.” Steve says, giving you a duh look.

You roll your eyes at him but lift the box’s lid and almost scream when you see what’s inside.

Steve anxiously studies your reaction, seeing the way your eyes widen comically and you throw your hands over your mouth to stifle a scream. You’re practically jumping up and down in your excitement to hold the framed poster up, and he feels relief wash over him. You seem to love the gift, he finally did something right.

“How the fuck did you get this?” You exclaim, studying the incredible details on the poster. It’s the cover of the very first edition of Spider-Man, Amazing Fantasy #15. You eyes scan over it and notice scrawled handwriting next to Spider-Man’s leg. “No, oh my god.”

“Notice anything special about it?” Steve leans against the counter with his arms crossed, a pleased smile on his face.

“It’s signed? By Stan fucking Lee?”

“Yup.”

You run out from behind the counter and engulf Steve in your arms. He’s stiff against you, having not expected such a reaction, but you don’t care. You bury your face in his chest and squeeze him, trying your best to exude your immense gratitude. “Thank you,”

Steve slowly relaxes into the embrace and wraps his arms around you, gently patting your back. “My dad knows a guy… Thought you’d like it.”

“I love it, Steve.” You whisper, your words muffled by his sweater.

You’re still wrapped in his arms, standing toe to toe with him, and you’re so happy it almost hurts. Steve’s arms are warm and strong and you feel him hesitantly rest his cheek atop of your head. He brings you in closer, secures his hold on you a little tighter, and you can smell that stupidly expensive and addicting cologne of his.

Steve is internally freaking out. Not only is he hugging you right now, but he’s surrounded by you. Your hair is against his cheek, your soft perfume overtakes his senses, and the sweater you’re wearing has Steve believing that everything about you is just warm and comforting and lovely. He wants to pull you in deeper, pull you into him, even.

He’s never been hugged like this before, so openly and with such sincerity.

He doesn’t want this moment to end, honestly.

Then your boss comes through the front door. “Well, hello there, children.”

You don’t necessarily pull away from Steve, letting an arm linger around him so that you can face your boss. “Hello, Mrs. Waters. We were just wrapping up, then we’ll be out of your hair.”

She waves you off, winking, and scurries over to her office. “Oh, don’t mind me! Carry on!”

You and Steve laugh, no ounce of tension between you. He seems carefree as always, and you have to refrain from pulling him into another hug. You look up at him, still toe to toe, so your head almost butts against his chin. “I sort the books, you stack?”

He smiles down at you. “Deal.”

–

Winter becomes spring and somehow you manage to finish sophomore year without any further problems. Jonathan remains by your side, Steve continues to visit you at work, and you even strike up a tentative friendship with Nancy.

It was hard at first, especially after she got back together with Steve, but Jonathan seemed to do well at burying down his feelings and insisted that the four of you could make things work, so you do.

Nancy is a joy to be around when you forget about the fact that Jonathan is hopelessly in love with her. She’s incredibly intelligent, cunning, and a great chemistry partner. Following the events of Will, you and her discover that by studying together, Kaminsky’s exams aren’t too difficult.

You often study together in the library while Jonathan sits across the table doing his own work. Slowly, Steve begins to join in as well. He usually spends your study sessions cracking jokes and bugging Jonathan, but after a while even he breaks down Jonathan’s stoic demeanor and strikes up their own hesitant relationship.

It’s not perfect, there’s still some underlying tension between you, Nancy, and Jonathan, but it’s enough.

Plus, it’s useful having Steve around whenever Jonathan and Nancy slip off into their own world. It’s become inevitable, something you’ve come to accept, but at least you can turn to Steve now and roll your eyes together.

It’s really nice, actually.

He eases the sting of losing Jonathan, even if he doesn’t realize it. Makes everything more bearable.

Summer comes and you don’t see Nancy as often, but Steve makes sure to visit your job whenever possible.

One day he comes in looking nervous and doesn’t do his usual greeting. He doesn’t wave, doesn’t flash you his signature smile, he just walks straight towards the counter with a frightened look on his face. “I need your help.”

You put the book you’d been reading down and immediately feel dread overwhelming you. Something is happening again, all those contracts you had to sign by Hawkins Lab are coming back to bite you in the ass. Will is in danger again. “Is everything okay?”

He must see the terrified look in your eyes and he quickly reassures you. “Oh, no it’s nothing serious, I just… I need your help with something.”

“Holy fuck,” you let out a breath, feeling your heartbeat start to return to normal. “Dude, after the whole monster fiasco, can we use some discretion when it comes to asking for help?”

“Right, sorry.”

“It’s fine… So, what’s up?”

Steve looks around the store to ensure no one is listening, which you find a bit odd, but whatever. He leans in close and whispers, “I need your help finding a gift for Nancy.”

“A gift?”

“Yeah. It’ll be six months with her soon and I just, I don’t know. I want to be a good boyfriend and get her something she’ll like. But I don’t know what she’d like, I’m the worst gift giver ever.”

You frown. “That’s not true. The poster you got me is hanging in my room as we speak.”

“Thanks, Y/N. But Nancy is different, she’s… She’s still really shaken up about Barb and I want to make it up to her. Cheer her up, ya know?” Steve fiddles with his sunglasses, you’ve never seen him so closed off and guarded before.

“Okay, well. What did you have in mind?”

“Something she’ll love.” Steve thinks for a moment. “A diamond necklace, maybe?”

“Okay, woah.” You put your hand up to slow down Steve’s frantic ideas. “I know you mean well, but Nancy is like. Pretty well off. She can afford her own diamond necklace, but besides that, she’s not a very materialistic girl. She wouldn’t like a necklace.”

Steve sighs. “You’re right. That’s um, actually why I’m here.”

“Oh?” You’re intrigued now.

“Nance has been going on and on about this news article that came out recently. Something about politics, or maybe the weather?” You stare at Steve, urging him to get to the point. “Sorry, doesn’t matter. Okay, basically I know she likes journalism. And you work at a bookstore, so…”

“You want to get her some books on journalism?” You ask, your heart clenching. Here’s this guy, Steve fucking Harrington, who is gorgeous and kind and shyly asking you for book advice for a girl he so dearly loves.

Somehow you envy Nancy Wheeler even more than you already do. She really does have it all, and you can’t even begrudge her for it. She’s genuinely a nice person, it’d be easier to hate her if she was horrible, but she isn’t.

Typical.

“Is that dumb? Actually, you know what, now that I’m saying it out loud it sounds stupid–”

You grab Steve’s hand, interrupting him. “Hey, no. It’s actually a really sweet idea. I think… I think she’ll really love it.”

Steve looks relieved and you can’t help but pity him. He’s trying so hard to be better for Nancy, to be all she wants him to be, and yet just yesterday you had to break up a weird staring contest between Nancy and Jonathan when you’d been at her place picking up Will and Dustin.

Your heart aches for this boy, so in love with a girl you’re afraid may love your best friend.

You guide Steve over to the journalistic section of Bookstrordinary and tell him some of your personal favorites. It’s not your favorite genre, but you’re familiar enough with it to give Steve a good starting point, which he’s immensely grateful for.

“You’re a lifesaver, Y/N.”

“What can I say? It’s a talent of mine.”

Steve starts to search through the books and you leave him alone to get back to work. It’s a slow day today, the mid July heat seemingly keeping everyone at home, so you spend most of your time watching Steve. He meticulously goes through each and every book, spending almost three hours reading their synopses over and over again to ensure that he finds Nancy the best book.

Occasionally he mumbles to himself, shaking his head when a book doesn’t fit quite right with what he has in mind, or exclaiming with glee when he finds the perfect one. Slowly he accumulates his own little pile of books before he brings them over to you.

He places the stack on your counter with a proud smile on his face. “I’ll take these, please.”

You whistle at the pile. “Think it’ll be enough?”

“Do you think I need more?” Steve asks, fear in his voice.

“I’m kidding, Steve. This is more than enough; it’s perfect.”

You start ringing the books up and Steve leans against the counter, back into his usual stance at your job. The price racks up quickly, but you’re sure it’s no problem for someone like Steve. In total he’s selected six books for Nancy, and with each book you scan you feel more tugging at your heart.

He deserves better, but he wouldn’t listen to you if you told him.

“Thanks again, by the way.” Steve breaks the silence.

“For what?”

“For helping me. You’ve always been so patient with me, well–I don’t know. It’s nice.” Steve rubs the back of his neck, sheepish.

You find yourself blushing as well, his words making you uneasy as always. “It’s nothing, Steve. We’re friends, what else am I supposed to do?”

“Well, I’ve never really had any friends before. I’m still new to this.” He confesses, looking away.

Again your heart aches for the boy. Here King Steve is, admitting to you that he’s never really had any friends before. You can’t imagine what that must be like, being so loved by a crowd of admirers yet isolated because of it.

You think about Tommy Hagan, Carol Perkins, and the various people who seemed to flow in and out of Steve’s inner circle of friends. The numerous girls he never stayed with for long, the boys who only used him for his popularity, you never considered how exhausting that all must’ve been. Surrounded by all, yet loved by none.

Hell, even with Nancy, Steve has confessed to you that he feels like he’s too much for her sometimes.

“You’re a great friend, Steve.” You reassure him, trying to keep your voice level. You know that any hint of pity will only make him feel lesser than, but you really wish you could make him believe you. Steve Harrington has somehow become your favorite person to be around. “I promise, you’re a natural when it comes to friendship.”

Steve smiles. “You think so?”

“I know so. In fact,” you finish ringing Steve up and deduct your employee discount from his total, dropping the price significantly. “I just gave you my employee discount because that’s what friends do and I know you’ll do the same for me one day. That is, if you ever get a job.”

He puts his hands in the air. “Hey, the way I see it: why get a job when I don’t need one?”

“Such wise words from a rich kid.”

“What if the rich kid offered to buy you dinner to repay you?” Steve’s tone is teasing, but there’s openness in his eyes that makes you freeze. He wants you to say yes, he’s almost pleading with you to accept his offer with those big brown eyes that make you want to scream.

You want to say yes, to accept his offer and go out to dinner with him and laugh and tease each other’s food choices and feel like the only two people to exist in Hawkins, but you can’t.

Steve is looking at you with a softness in his eyes that catches in the July afternoon light, and you see the shift. It’s subtle, but it’s there. He’s looking at you as if he’d do whatever you asked, without any hesitation, because he cares about you in a way that no one quite has before.

Sure, you’ve noticed it before through his actions, but seeing the deep fondness behind his eyes is something entirely different. You feel this flutter within your chest and you feel heat rise to your cheeks. He’s looking at you as if you’re holding the goddamn sun, and you can’t do it.

You can’t tell Steve yes.

He’s Nancy’s. So is Jonathan.

You can’t develop feelings for yet another guy that Nancy Wheeler has claimed for herself.

You don’t love Steve, but you know how easily you could fall for him. With him, everything is easier. Your laughs feel freer, your heart a little lighter. With Steve, it feels like you’re coming home after being away for so long. First uncertain of what you’ve left behind, but then so full of love once you’re embraced with open arms as if no time has passed.

It would be so easy falling in love with Steve.

That’s why you tell him no.

“I can’t.” You finally say. It takes everything within you to get the words out, as if your body is physically unable to break Steve Harrington’s heart. But you have to.

Steve’s smile drops. “Oh, alright.”

You wrap up the last of the books for Nancy, take the cash from Steve, and then inform him that you have a lot of work to do before closing. “You should leave.”

“Already?” He looks so hurt and you want to just kiss his cheek, whisper how lovely he is.

But he’s too lovely. Too selfless towards you. Too kind and charismatic and easygoing.

He’s too much for you, but not in the way that plagues him with fear of rejection.

He’s too much for you because of how easily you could embrace him entirely, how willing you are to make room for him even if you already know there’s plenty of space for him regardless.

“Yeah,” you busy yourself with a meaningless pile of books. “Just go home, give Nancy those books.”

The words burn your tongue almost as much as your tears burn your eyes.

But you remind yourself of Jonathan, of how much it hurts to hear him say Nancy’s name like a prayer. How Steve describes her as if she’s the moon and he’s a lowly astronomer tasked with studying her.

You can’t keep putting yourself through this hurt.

It isn’t fair to yourself, and for once you need to be selfish.

Steve leaves, mumbling a soft goodbye, and you vow then and there to push him away. You’ve gotten too used to his company; you came too close to falling in love with yet another person who couldn’t possibly ever love you back.

So you limit your interactions with Steve.

You’re dismissive when he comes to your job the next day, then the next, and the next. He seems hurt at first, asking you if he’s done anything wrong, why you’re icing him out, but eventually after a few weeks he seems to let it go.

You’re thankful for that. For his ability to read you and understand that there’s something more, you just can’t tell him.

July turns to August and Steve stops coming by Bookstrordinary.

You go back to only spending time with the boys or Jonathan, rarely ever Nancy. You don’t see much of Steve, and sometimes it feels like last November never happened. Like he never came into your life and flipped it completely upside down. The only reminder that it had been real is the poster that hangs on your wall, taunting you for your cowardice.

Jonathan notices your change in demeanor, missing Steve more than you thought you would, but you make up some lie and change the topic. You know it’s for the better. It has to be for the better. And yet it feels like you’ve just lost something incredible. Something that could’ve been everything, an almost that you’ll never quite understand.

But you refuse to fall in love with Steve Harrington.

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist, just let me know :)

taglist: @siriuslysmoking @sheisjoeschateau @myeclispedsun @innercreationflower @juhdoche @frostandflamesfanfic @goosy-goose @quinnsadilla @munsons-queen @stefansring @babylovesteve @bex22109 @rice-elephant

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #wdtai #m's writing #steve just wants love #n reader just wants to feel normal and okay again #ugh #wrong time for my babys

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nightlilly0110 · 12 days ago

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“Jayce was being cruel this season because he denied Viktor his autonomy in not destroying the hexcore. All he wanted to do was die and Jayce wouldn’t let him do that. And then he went and killed him anyway.”

*LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER NOISE*

Okay. He did break his promise to destroy the hexcore, but that’s not what this is about. I’ve seen so many people being like “Viktor wanted to die and Jayce is only prolonging his suffering.” No! Wrong! Jail for you!

Viktor does not want to die. Is he willing to die? Yes, that’s why he asked Jayce to destroy the hexcore in the first place, but we all apparently collectively forgot that this man was working constantly during Season 1 to figure out how to cure him, went to his old mentor who he hadn’t visited since he was a kid (because he thought he was a monster) for help, only stopping his pursuit once his work got someone killed. Viktor does not want to die, but will do so if it meant other people would be safe from what he did.

Jayce is not cruel for using the hexcore to save Viktor. He did not know what it would do to him. All he knew was that it could have saved his life, and it did. Cruel would be if he knew that Viktor wouldn’t come back the same, if he knew Whatever It Was he saw when he entered the hexgate before he let the hexcore merge with Viktor and yet did it anyway. Did he fuck up by doing this? Yes, but he didn’t understand the outcome. It’s not a cruelty, even if it was slightly selfish - he thought he was saving him.

He did not prolong Viktor’s life just to kill him in the end. Again, he did not know what the hexcore would do to Viktor. Jayce did not save him with the intention of killing him. And are we really being like “oh he saved his life just to murder him anyway” when Jayce was clearly (painfully) hallucinating and we still don’t know the whole truth of what happened to him??? Viktor even said that it wasn’t Jayce anymore.

He’s not even dead, he’s in the teaser for Act 3.

#crow grumbles #arcane #arcane spoilers #arcane season 2 #league of legends #jayvik #vikjayce #jayce talis #viktor

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curlyhairedbooklover · 3 months ago

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What is the gender spilt of the murders in NBC Hannibal?

This is the third of three posts though this one works as a standalone, the first two are about the characters saying each other’s names and can be found here and here (I promise they are much more interesting than that summary makes them sound….) I decided to make this post because of this quote from Bryan Fuller; “And we are very conscious in the writer’s room; ‘Okay we just killed a woman, we have to kill a guy now.’” (47:20) And I always wondered how well they actually managed to do that…. thus I went out and collected the data and here it is!!

Adding a quick disclaimer that I did this for fun so I haven’t double checked it meaning there may be some mistakes!

As you can see from the data it turns out that they did kill less women than men during the show!!!! The total known kills in the show are 200 with 98 of them being men, 65 women and 37 were unknown!! I also kept track of who did the murder and those categories are: Hannibal, killer of the week, Will, and other.

To preface, I am only using “women” and “men” for my categories in this data as the show does not depict any trans or nb people (explicitly at least, there are a couple metaphorical/subtextual ones…) and if I could not tell the person’s gender or I simply did not see a body I categorised them as “unknown”

You will be pleased to know that Hannibal killed 39.5 people (the 0.5 is Dolarhyde which I split between Will and Hannibal as it was a joint kill 😌) over the show on screen and that 26.5 of them were men, 9 were women and only 4 were unknown! All I can say is that Hannibal is a feminist queen! That or women are significantly less rude in the Hannibal universe… although Freddie seems to defy that theory…. He does kill the most in s1 at 21 times! That essentially halves in s2 to only 12 times and again to 6.5 times in s3.. although it’s worth noting that I was unable to count his kills at Muskrat Farm as we don’t see any bodies on screen (though the script implies it was at least 7) and I only counted the Il Mostro kills that we saw evidence of instead of including the amount killed by the actual Il Mostro killer(s).. Not to mention that he spent half the season in prison! So all that said he did okay! Also I personally believe that his kill count across his lifetime is easily in the high hundreds, he has to meal plan if nothing else so let's put some respect on his name as Hannibal THEE Cannibal!

Unsurprisingly the killers of the week did make up most of the kills in the show, and killed 62 men, 56 women and 33 of unknown gender altogether. The killer of the week who did the most murder is James Grey at a whopping 50 but he did have a mural to create so that takes a lot of bodies! Second place goes to Lawrence Wells who murdered 17 people over his lifetime to create his totem pole, while Clark Ingram sneaks in at 3rd with 16 murders, although he only killed women and is the main reason why the women’s s2 kill count is higher than the men’s, boooooo! Poor Dolarhyde had to pick up all the slack in s3 as the only killer of the week but he did at least get 15 kills in! Sadly he was bound by the orders of the moon and could not do the suitable legwork 😔

Now Will DID get his own section of the table as is his right as the main character 😤 even if he only killed 3 people (which translates to 2.5 on the table as a result of having to share the dragon with Hannibal…). But they were all monumental kills, I mean Garret Jacob Hobbs haunted the rest of the show, Randall was turned into a magnificent tableau, and Francis was the culmination of his becoming and gave us That Ending!! It’s also not like he didn’t successfully manipulate multiple people into killing (or almost killing) people so I think he deserves extra points for those if only in our hearts!! Despite his low kill count he is the character we see commit murder the most on the show! He fantasises/imagines/hallucinates murdering 32 people across the show!! As the show moved away from the procedural nature he imagined killing less people; with s1 standing at 16, s2 moving down to 9 and then only 7 in s3! Just because most of the time he’s empathising with killers to recreate their kills doesn’t make the scenes any less sexy or iconic!!

The 7 other kills actually all come from women!! Another feminism win!! 3.3 is when Chiyoh killed her prisoner after being manipulated into it by Will. 3.7 sees Chiyoh kill again, this time’s it’s the 2 guys who were going to kill Jack and the 2 guards at Muskrat Farm, where we also we get Mason’s murder from Alana and Margot!! Then in 3.10 we get the flashback to Bedelia killing her patient! Go Girls!! Whooo!!

In conclusion no one is surprised that there is a lot of murder in this show and Bryan Fuller while not exactly alternating each week in killing off each gender did not kill more women than men so arguably achieved his goal!

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

#hannibal #nbc hannibal #Hannibal Lecter #Will Graham #hannibal meta #hannigram #data #my post #Francis Dolarhyde #Chiyoh #Alana Bloom #Margot Verger #Bedelia Du Maurier #hope people found this series interesting!

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heyclickadee · 10 months ago

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Okay, a few thoughts on the trailer now that I’ve collected my thoughts a bit:

1. Between the shots of the crashed ship and Omega in the cockpit, it’s looking like a self-rescue on Omega’s part. At this point I’m thinking she gets herself and Crosshair out, and then, based on the shots of Cross with the batch, gets separated from him at some point. He rejoins the batch, and she is…somewhere else. Though I don’t know if that means she goes back to Tantiss.

2. It’s entirely possible that she gets got by one of the bounty Hunters in the trailer, and that’s what separates her from Crosshair.

3. I do think that it is Crosshair in the armor, but other possibilities include: one, Tech, who may not have his own armor anymore and needed to wear something protective on short notice, and; two, Hunter’s having a real bad time and is actually hallucinating Crosshair being with them. I don’t think that’s the case though—I think it really is Crosshair.

4. It’s also possible that those shots with Crosshair are from a little later on in the season.

5. Poor Omega’s going to be in Tantiss for months.

6. I swear Hunter looks like he’s lost weight. Like. I know a lot of the fandom is deep in the Crosshair and Tech are twins sauce (and honestly, I am too, I adore that head-canon and basically think if it as canon), but darn it if Hunter isn’t getting so drawn he’s starting to look a little like Crosshair.

7. I find it weirdly amusing that the half the trailer in which the bad batch actually features is mostly taken up by Hunter and Wrecker doing Adventure Man things. I get the sense they were scrounging to find shots of the batchers that weren’t massively spoilery (and they still put those shots of Crosshair in. Which, admittedly, is one of the things that makes me slightly suspicious of that being Crosshair at all, because that could be a misdirect, but only slightly).

8. I’m going to laugh if it turns out that Cid hired all of the bounty hunters we see to find Omega. Like, if that’s what she uses the money she got from Hemlock for, and she’s basically trying to get Omega out of the situation she got Omega into and goes a little overboard on the means.

9. Ventress! I’ll be honest, Ventress has never been at the top of my favorite character list, though I’ve warmed up to her quite a bit (I used to like the idea of her more than the execution), but I always love Nika Futterman’s performance, and I’m intrigued to see Ventress here at the very least. Because. How. She was very dead. Very, very dead. Not “fell into The Mists” dead—she had a funeral after being dead for months. My only thoughts are that were either seeing her in a flashback sequence that takes place before Dark Disciple, or it turns out that nightsisters can use their force magic to do some weird shit after getting hit by lightning. Either way, I don’t think she’s fighting Wrecker and Hunter here—that’s just some misleading editing.

10. Man, I hope Hemlock dies a lot.

11. Anyway, speaking of the dead and those back from it, Tech is so alive and I’m trying to not be the Smuggest of Gremlins until we for sure see him, but jeez are they making that difficult. (I checked the trailer release blurb on the Star Wars dot com page—it doesn’t mention Tech being dead. It just says the team is “scattered” after the events of season two. Like. Guys, you’re not even trying anymore.)

12. And more on Tech, I do think it’s possible—possible, mind you—that Tech is the guy we see in the clone X armor in front of what looks like the Archium. There are some small differences between that armor and both the armor we see on Clone X in season two, and the Clone X we see speaking later in the trailer—namely, the shoulder straps, what looks like a glass visor covering the two eyeholes, and *sigh* the pouches. And it’s the straps and the pouches that are giving him a bit more of a Tech-ish silhouette—especially the pouches, and especially from behind. If it is Tech, though, I don’t think it’s a brainwashed Tech at all (and honestly, it’s the pouches that make me lean towards not brainwashed if it is Tech in there, because a shin pouch is just a very Tech-and-not-blank-slate thing to wear).

I actually think it’s more likely that it’s Tech in disguise and having taken the armor from the Clone X we see later in the trailer (with some adjustments of his own), and that that’s what’s being referred to by the titles “Infiltration” and “Extraction;” Tech infiltrating imperial forces, and then the others having to get him (and probably the people of Pabu) out. And, if that’s the case, I’m banking on these shots being from the midseason. (I know I said I wasn’t going to speculate on the episode titles. That was aspirational.)

Basically, I could be persuaded that it’s Tech in there or that it’s not. I’m less likely to be persuaded that it’s a brainwashed Tech in there—I still don’t think that’s happening.

12. Whether that is Tech in that armor or not, I do think that the clone X we see speaking in the trailer isn’t the same guy in the armor in the Archium shot.

13. I am SO HAPPY to see Phee back THANK GOODNESS. I was a little worried they’d drop her like a rock, but nope! She’s here! She’s got her cool jacket! We see her ship!

14. There is a criminally small amount of Echo in the trailer, but I’m not giving up on seeing more of him. It’s possible that he’s either a walking spoiler, or that he features a little more heavily in the back half of the season.

15. “The Cavalry Has Arrived” is the most optimistic episode title in the whole damn show and, yes, I will die on this hill.

16. Crosshair. Oh, Crosshair. Someone please save him immediately.

17. There’s a lot of early doom panic around, well, everyone and everyone (especially Hunter) dying that I’m honestly going to ignore going forward. For reasons.

#the bad batch #the bad batch spoilers #tbb spoilers #bad batch spoilers #the bad batch season 3 #here in the land of wild speculation

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darcyfangirlsfrequently · 4 months ago

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My reactions to the finale of Criminal Minds: Evolution season 2

I can't believe we're already at the end 😭

20 minutes of lost connection. I'm sure Penelope isn't panicking at ALL

Oh yeah that doesn't look good. That looks VERY not good.

And we start off with Dave! Alive (unsurprised) but injured/trapped (unsurprised) and talking to a hallucination of Voit (UNSURPRISED)

Tara's alive my QUEEEN!! And uninjured!

Tara trying not to cry about the fact that her gf, i mean, Emily is still MIA

And Emily and Frank Church are kidnapped. Lovely!!

Yay! Church is dead!

Canon use of the nickname "Em" for Emily!!!

Hello, Peter B! Nice to finally meet you!

I'm very surprised that Jade ISN'T dead

Jade's backstory breaks my heart

And they're making me emotional about Damien and Jade. AGAIN.

Oh shit she's bringing up Cyrus and Doyle and Mr. Scratch

Collecting my garvez crumbs!! I'm sure they had a very emotional, tearful, hugs-and-kisses reunion off screen.

Luke looking so intently at her ahhhh

Oh, Pete B must hold Prentiss responsible for something? Could it be, I don't know, the death of his older brother Doug?

SHOCKER Doug is Pete's older brother.

Voit GIGGLING makes my skin crawl

EMILY HAS A SISTER???? HAS THIS ALWAYS BEEN A THING???? HOW DID I NOT KNOW THAT???

"I didn't mean it like that" mean it like what??? I am so confused.

Luke the way you're always staring at her face is gonna clue someone in

Rossi telling THE DIRECTOR "if emily dies so do you, bitch"

"Can we turn down the testosterone for a second" rebecca don't make me like you

And all of a sudden the director is chill???

Help Voit has me CACKLING

"our girl" ew no you do NOT

"Your boyfriend's dead because you shot him, babe," EMILY???

the emphasis on deepfake with the glance over at luke *shudders* i know jj is watching this and feeling sick to her stomach

"but jenny i told you about this" VILE SICK DISGUSTING NO

"calm down, big guy" 😂😂😂

Tyler has me rolling with laughter

TY TY AND LUCAS I'M CRYING WITH LAUGHTER

Not Penelope making Voit physically uncomfortable by just LOOKING at him. my QUEEN.

the way i get giggly when luke calls her "Penelope" and not "Garcia"

"hey did you watch BAUgate yet" shut the FUCK UP

EW EW ELIAS USED FOOTAGE OF HIS WIFE???

JJ slayed that scene

i know they make it out of this. but i can't figure out how

Luke saving everyone's life on a HUNCH we stan

oh no jade still has the gold star bullet

i don't think jade is going to shoot them i think she's going to shoot herself

"will you listen to me, this time?" jade got me SOBBING

MILA AND JADE REUNION I'M SOBBING

PETE AND HIS PARENTS I'M SOBBING EVEN HARDER

no no. do NOT tell me that after all this i'm getting a GREENCIA scene.

okay false alarm. he seems to still be down bad-ish for her but she seems neutral (maybe bc she's dating someone else currently in that room)

Luke the heart eyesssssss

and tebecca is offically back together. my temily heart is crying.

"the worst part of dating a guy, no offense," *pats luke on the shoulder* DYING

"none taken" luke knows men ain't shit

"I'm just glad someone acknowledged the height disparity" luke you and your gf have THE SAME HEIGHT DIFFERENCE

Luke comforting Tyler DAMN i am loving this blossoming bromance

luke making eyes at Pen as they toast sir I SEE YOU

and voit's maybe dead! yay!

Look. so, my secret dating garvez theory wasn't proved right. BUT it has yet to be proved WRONG, so I shall continue to believe into the next season

Honestly I'm kind of underwhelmed by the finale. It was good, but I feel like it is very complete and there's no real cliffhanger left to continue on with another season. But I am liking what's happening with the caracters so far.

#garvez #luke alvez #penelope garcia #tyler green #tara lewis #rebecca wilson #tebecca #emily prentiss #david rossi #jennifer jareau #elias voit #criminal minds #criminal minds reboot #criminal minds evolution #cme spoilers

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gothra · 6 months ago

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I’m currently on a rewatch of Supernatural, and I’m noticing a parallel with an aspect of Eric Kripke’s other project, something that I didn’t notice or care about the first time(s) I watched the show, but now I can’t stop thinking about. This relates to Sam Winchester’s consumption of demon blood and character’s (Hughie’s especially) usage of Temp V, and the language pertaining to morality that surround both of these aspects of the story.

Spoilers incoming.

In the earlier seasons of Supernatural, we establish that Sam Winchester has psychic powers due to being giving a demon’s blood as an infant.

As an adult, Sam starts getting visions pertaining to what are now his growing psychic powers, it’s only until later in the early seasons that we learn that Sam has discovered a way to control demons, by drinking demon blood, which heightens his psychic powers.

The powers he has are very useful and they come in handy multiple times. Sam can exorcise demons with his mind, a job that, before the use of demon blood, was done with a long Latin spell (that usually had to be uttered while a demon was rocking their shit) or couldn’t be done at all, requiring Sam and Dean to kill demons with a special kind of knife. Exorcism is safer for the vessel, but difficult to do, and stabbing the demons is a bit easier (not including getting within stabbing range) but it kills the demon and the vessel, which, from time to time is still being inhabited by a poor human soul that is forced to watch as the demon uses their body to do despicable things. Sam’s powers save their lives, too. He can toss demons around like ragdolls, too, and THAT comes in handy, too.

Sam’s powers are fucking cool. Not just that, they’re nearly a net positive.

Sam’s powers don’t really have a serious downside. It really seems like they would have written a severe downside into something so extreme as drinking demon blood, but they didn’t! No physical side-effects, meaning Sam’s physical body does not change, chafe, rot, or fall off every time he drinks the blood. He doesn’t hallucinate or get sick or get crazy headaches when he drinks it, just when he uses his psychic powers, and it hurts less the more he uses them. The only time he experiences physical side-effects is when he suffers from withdrawals from it. It doesn’t really alter his personality outside of the stress of hiding it and the shame of drinking it, which is to be expected. Like my friend Tyler said, “It doesn’t even make him bitchy, like when he was soulless”. There’s not even any moral problems with the method that Sam uses to collect demon blood. He drinks the blood of a demon he’s in a sexual relationship with, and she consents and encourages him to do so. He doesn’t run around kidnapping random demons and bleeding them until their vessels have run dry. He doesn’t have to do anything bad to get the demon blood. Sam doesn’t even need to drink a lot of it to deal with the demons they typically run into. Sure, he’s had to drink a lot more when it’s a bigger demon, but I wouldn’t expect anything less.

So, you can imagine my confusion upon rewatch when I realized that nobody else seemed to be on board. It would be understandable if they were tentative, or awkward or even squicked out by the blood aspect. But basically everyone Sam tells about his powers is disappointed in or angry at Sam for drinking demon blood. Mind you, this storyline is coming at a place in the Supernatural story where demons are running rampant. Sam is being mentally plagued by the demon that dropped blood into his mouth as an infant, all while he’s working with the demon who gives him the blood and helps him with his powers to take down an even bigger demon. It’s demons all the way down, yet, everyone takes the time out of their busy demon-slaying schedule to admonish Sam for drinking the blood and using his powers to help out.

Let me tell you, it’s maddening, watching people get angry at the wrong thing. It’s maddening to watch people apologize for doing something good because someone else has decided that their wrath is more important. Dean (Sam’s brother) has Sam in a moral chokehold the entire season, lecturing him, insulting him, pushing Sam aside for something that ultimately is nothing more than Dean’s personal issue. And because it’s Dean’s personal issue and Dean is a narrative favorite, his emotional and psychological needs are ultimately more important. Often, Sam doesn’t get what he deserves. His character experiences (literally) soul-destroying setbacks, and still, he is made to feel bad for doing something, when the benefits of that thing far outweigh the positives, and the negatives of that thing come off as a noble sacrifice.

You’d think I would get tired of talking about how much of a let down Season 3 of the boys is. But I got a burst of renewed energy once I realized I had something to talk about that intersected in a way that I could actually witness with my own eyes. Do I regret getting pulled back into SPN? A little bit. But, here’s the point of this:

Hughie and Sam play the same role in their respective stories. They are two people who have been deeply hurt, traumatized, damaged, and who desperately want to do some good. They both want to make a difference and make a dent in their missions.

Temp V is different than demon blood. This time, Kripke added side-effects. But the side-effects of Temp V don’t change the fact that the benefits of using it are obvious and immediate. When Butcher and Hughie use Temp V, important things happen. They came close to killing Homelander, just a pinch away. It worked. The thing that they were using the drugs for almost happened. So, denying its usefulness would be pointless.

This time, Kripke learned from his mistake. Sam didn’t experience any negative side-effects, and his personality changes seemed to be due to the stress of hiding it from his brother and constantly arguing about and attempting to justify his actions. The benefits outweighed the negatives. Hughie, on the other hand, experienced a remarkable (some would say, completely unbelievable and out of character) personality shift. Suddenly, his motives were different, ego-driven, selfish, and they tainted his actions, turning them from moral and noble, to self-centered. In Hughie’s case, the negatives and the positives are placed on an equal scale, in my opinion, by force. I think that the personality changes that they wrote for Hughie are absolutely not fitting at all, but were put in place because if they weren’t there, anyone who thought about it for more than one minute would realize that admonishing Hughie for his use of a helpful super drug is stupid. If Hughie only experienced the brain damage, he could be considered noble and brave for what he was doing. It would be tragic that he’d have to stop, and if he considered continuing to use the drug to take down Homelander after he learned about the side effects, it would endear us to Hughie and his self-sacrifice. If he only experiences the psychological side-effects, than we can even the score, then his selfishness could be enough to paint his use of Temp V as bad, as if his selfishness alone is enough to overwrite or match the immediate benefit to the mission, as if Hughie’s personal morals being in jeopardy outweigh the fact that their goal is to kill a maniacal rapist who, if given the chance, WILL kill them all, and ANYONE who stands in his way or upsets him or makes him feel inferior.

For both Sam and Hughie, they are being positioned against characters who should be considered wrong, and who should be confronted with their wrongness and never are, because their feelings on the issue, likely act as a stand-in for Eric’s feelings, and therefore, they become the narrative favorite. Dean is the suave, handsome womanizer with the gruff, yet charming personality and combat skills, and Sam is his brother. Annie is the Strong Female Character, who defies everyone because Eric needs to prove he knows how to create good female characters (he hasn’t proved that) and Hughie is her boyfriend.

Ultimately the similarities are striking. I’ve got many ideas about the reasons why Eric wrote Season 3 this way, and why he wrote Sam’s story like that, and the likelihood of these reasons increase and decrease the more I think about each of them, but that’s a separate issue and I’m very tired 😞

@deliciouskeys and @bisexualhomelander how did I do?

#the boys #hughie campbell #annie january #the boys amazon #and RUBY is just like Butcher #in that Sam has to make the choice between Ruby and Dean #and Hughie has to make the choice between Annie and Butcher #the boys season 3 #supernatural #spn #sam winchester #dean winchester #long post #gothra #essays

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ourflagmeansgayrights · 1 year ago

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ok so i was actually kinda surprised to find that looking at the ao3 stats and adjusting for how long ofmd’s existed (a year and a half) vs how long the stucky fandom’s been around (coming up on a decade), not only is gentlebeard on par with stucky but it actually beats stucky for amount of fics written. but i’m making a prediction now just based on how i’ve observed fandoms to work: i do think the gentlebeard popularity will peter out faster than stucky did

i’m not saying bc i think gentlebeard is worse or the ofmd fandom is weak or anything, i’m saying this bc in fandom it seems like the white masc queerbait ships* have like, an absurd amount of longevity that goes way beyond the general fandom surrounding whatever media said white masc queerbait ship hails from. im thinking abt the protagonist/rival ship from the TERF wizard series that nobody decent talks about in public anymore. before we all cut jkr out of our lives, people were still churning out fics abt the main character and that racist blond kid pretty regularly. and another example, we have those scientists from pacific rim that are more popular than any of the main characters from that movie. it’s been years and the newt/hermann fandom is still going strong.

and i say “newt/hermann fandom” intentionally, bc that’s the thing that i think actually gives these ships their longevity: when there are fans who are primarily invested in a piece of media because of a noncanonical masc4masc queerbait ship, they’re not really fans of the media itself. i mean, some of them might be, but if they are then that’s in addition to being fans of this alternate queer interpretation of the media in question. they’re a fan of the fandom mass hallucination that the fans collectively and collaboratively invented of a romantic/sexual/homoerotic relationship between two guys who on-screen might hug like once or twice (or sometimes even never)

and i’m pretty sure the reason this sort of fandom phenomenon tends to have so much longevity is bc the fans have already created this whole extensive romantic storyline using what is often some pretty minimal canonical material to work with. so when the movie franchise or the tv show ends and the shippers no longer have any new canonical material to work with, they can keep going for years because really, they were already making shit up from the start.

so compared to that, gentlebeard is way different bc everything the fans might have invented on our own the show pretty much already did for us, and anything the show didn’t do yet is probably coming for us this season (or in s3, fingers crossed). i’ve mentioned before how a lot of fanfiction seems to fall on a spectrum between “fix” and “expand,” and by the end of ofmd i doubt there’s gonna be a whole lot that gentlebeard fans feel like they need to “fix.” versus stucky, where there’s so much that needs to be fixed that you might as well just throw the whole canon out.

i don't really mean any of this as a criticism or an attack on fans of queerbait ships like this, im just pointing out fandom trends that i've noticed. i myself have been deeply invested in stucky, newmann, and the gay wizard boys at different points in my life. like there is something very fun abt putting on slash goggles and making queer content out of nothing. personally though, now that we're in an age where we're getting canon queer content, im not so engaged in a lot of the ships i used to care so much about, but i don't think it's inherently wrong** for people to still enjoy some classic fandom queerbait ships. it's just a very different thing from enjoying canonical queer ships like gentlebeard

*im using “queerbait ships” loosely to include popular gay ships in media that was never in a million years going to make these characters gay.

**a clarifying point: i don't think it's inherently wrong, however there are a lot of problematic elements to this kind of fandom activity, namely the way a lot of these queerbait ships will dominate a fandom while other characters who are important in canon get completely sidelined (and yes, the sidelined characters are often women/poc). also, less importantly, when people's primary media consumption revolves around strip mining canon for shipping content, this absolutely destroys their media literacy and critical thinking. again, im not saying this to attack ppl who engage in fandom primarily through fic/art of noncanonical gay ships, i myself have done the same thing. but i think ppl who do should also make a conscious effort to also engage with fan content that centers women/poc, or at the very least need to be aware of the issues around this kind of fandom activity.

#txt #meta #mine #og #ofmd #our flag means death #gentlebeard #pacific rim #mcu #stucky poll #fandom crit

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goth-pod · 10 months ago

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So i've recently found this podcast (and loving it!) and i wanted to ask a few things:

can you make a episode about Scarecrow

have you heard about the Batman fear toxic rumors

what is your currant take on the robins

Welcome listener!! I'm so glad you're enjoying our little project!

I'm so excited about your interest and curiosity, so lets get into it:

1. In the Rogues Gallery Episode we discussed the concept of our beloved and loathed rogues, but didn't get to go into detail to any one specific being. For our first season, we're going to continue on the belief that talking about one rogue might attract the attention of others. Maybe next season! When we can dedicate more time to getting details right. (And to keep the prideful at bay.)

2. Is that the one that theorizes Batman is a collective hallucination? A sort of self-severing specter to keep our own morals in line?

Or am I way off? Please feel free to send in another ask to explain it! I'm always curious to hear what's on the mind of our local listeners.

3. Anon, are you psychic? Have our end of season plans been leaked? Either way, your third question will be answered in Episode 9! (Releasing today!)

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lovecolibri · 1 month ago

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SaL anon here my friend and I suppose every season we need an episode to remind us why we have the mantra, and this was that episode. Its not going down as the worst disappointment we've had on this show, just really, really meh. To be fair, we got exactly what was on the label from the sneak peaks to the stills, you could pretty much track every event that happened. And that's the problem, I don't think we were in a collective hallucination when we thought there would be so much more, and there just wasn't. This especially rung true with Buck this episode, who's storyline is begging for movement while I'm still seeing the same old thing 🙄🙄🙄.

Anyway, that's not even the stuff that pissed me off, what really aggravated me was the Denny stuff. I have no problem with the show doing a big, emotional call during the silly-shenanigans holiday episode, but considering this show has never had a problem writing an emergency where the audience finds itself emotionally invested in a few just-introduced strangers, using the Wilsons to make sure the audience is invested felt lazy and like too much considering all they've just gone through. It was a paint-by-numbers choice to imo, where its like okay who has kids who aren't toddlers cause that'll freak out the audience, aren't already traumatized because no one wants to see trauma piled on a kid, and are actually present?? Oh look, there's Denny!! So yeah, unless there's some sort of future follow-up to what happened that whole thing felt so shoved in and unnecessary.

As for the Buddie and tree stuff, again everything that happened was what we were shown would happen, no surprises. And while I get that the audience has to actually see their relationship this season in order to see why it ends later, it doesn't make watching the hamster wheel in action fun. And god the one solo BT scene they put in (not counting the cemetary, Tommy might as well have been on another set he was so far away) was so ridiculously painful to watch with Treeman acting like a condescending dick the entire time. I sat through it with BT 1.0 and have since forgotten how much I just don't need to see that, until now. The only plus I guess is that at least now they're contrasting it against the way Eddie treats Buck directly which definitely is purposeful, but still I'm tired of watching it and seeing Buck being talked down to.

That's all from me bestie, gonna go get some more wine and curl up with some Buddie classics tonight. Its gonna be a long two weeks....

Friend, we should not have been surprised. As you said, we got exactly what it looked like we would get, down to ending on a somewhat positive-ish note for BT which I think a lot of us HAD been expecting until quotes and hits started coming out. But we should all know better by now! That gif Kat used was the first bucket of ice water for me because I know exactly what that scene implies and I was right. There was certainly some whiplash though as we keep hearing there is going to be a disconnect and BT are going to learn things and face hurdles and it's like, girl where? Is the hurdle just T not actually liking Buck and treating him like a child? Because that only works if it gets addressed and so far it hasn't, and doesn't sound like it will. Plus, hearing that Buck is going to go to everyone for relationship advice is filling me personally with dread because it seems like every time that happens he just gets lectured about why he's not doing enough to keep things together instead of anyone asking if he's happy and I just can't do it again. I'm so tired of watching Buck, who has SO much romance to offer and asks so little get constantly trapped by the writers in these relationships that are boring at BEST, or painful to watch at worst as he is dismissed and mistreated. We've seen this all before, and are dying for something new!

On top of all of that, the pacing and tone for the episode was once again, all over the place! Knowing who wrote it, that kinda makes sense now 🙄. It started out good with fun firefam stuff, but once again, Buck gets shuffled off onto some side story with a rando side character instead of the firefam being involved to make it fun! That's why things like Jinx worked so well! We have Buck and Chim freaking out, Hen on the fence, Bobby pretending he's not superstitious to keep the peace, and Eddie trying to get everyone on his side of the fence. It's more balanced, and fun, plus they can all like, act. But this just felt like Buck getting ganged up on with no one in his corner and the audience, who knows Chim especially is all about this kind of stuff, is left wondering why we didn't hear anything much from him or Bobby, or even almost-a-doctor-Hen! At least Eddie was around, but again, the tone of those scenes with him siding with T felt SO off and really felt like a writing issue. We didn't even get a resolution to the boils! We don't know if it worked or not so what was the point if it's just gonna be brushed aside with a throwaway line, two weeks from now when the show comes back?! Again, a writing/pacing issue.

As for Eddie, I think the audience would have benefited from just a little more insight into his head, instead of getting the same "I miss my son but I'm fine" thing the firefam is getting, just because I think they are really going to get into it for Eddie next week (Shannon again, yay😒), and these storylines do need at least a little room to build, and that alone might have helped with the tone for Eddie's scenes for the audience to sympathize with him, instead of it looking like he's brushing Buck off while the audience is sympathizing with Buck. Again, a writing issue.

Which brings me to the next part of the pacing/tone issue which is why I'm putting on the writing because it wasn't just that the BT stuff was bad and the Eddie stuff felt off, but where in the absolute fuck did this Henren conflict come from?? Someone else pointed out that since Mara has been silenced in her story for so long, this was the perfect opportunity to give her a voice and have HER be the one not understanding Hen's work schedule. Which makes more sense given how young she is, and all she's been through, and it being her first big holiday with her family, rather than someone with a decade of living this life suddenly having a problem out of nowhere. If that had come up even just last week which could have worked with tensions being high and them struggling, it would have made more sense. But truly, this should have been centered on Mara's feelings, not her parents feelings about what might be Mara's feelings but we don't know because it's never confirmed how she feels. I think it was an emotional scene, but without the build up it fell a little flat which is so frustrating because once again we have actors who can absolutely pull off the emotional scenes, being let down by the writing. And while this show has absolutely balances fun and funny with tragic, the tone again just didn't fit or flow. It's bachelor party all over again with the tonal whiplash!

My final big though I'm going to leave off with is this, and it's something we learned during RNM and it's something I try to remember especially for this show as well. Actors having a really great time doing their job and being excited about what they did because they remember all the fun they had and what it looked like from their perspective, does not always translate into an enjoyable episode for the audience. They don't always know what all gets cut, they don't know how things ultimately get put together and how that affects the tone and pacing the audience sees, and their experience is colored by getting to have a super fun time with their friends doing cool stuff! Oliver has had a few episodes he's loved doing cool acting stuff for that didn't translate as well for the audience in the finished product. The journos as well hyped the fuck out of the s7 finale and that episode was a fucking mess! They are also at work, and their job is to get clicks and unfortunately, nothing like a good old fashioned ship war to generate buzz! (Though I'm surprised after some of the deeply disturbing and nasty shit thrown at them by BTs that things turned out like they did, but again, we don't actually know these people and I need to remember that ignoring them is actually for the best.)

ANYWAY. I'll close on Buddie when I'm dead, and if I survived BT 1.0 dragging out a whole season for no reason, that rando woman being forced into 5b just to take up scenes that belonged to everyone else because she had no reason to exist, and that transphobe getting to stick around for a whole season also for no other reason than set dressing basically, then I can get through this. But GOD I'd rather not. I'll follow this show to hell and back, I just wish it would stop fucking going there.

Final final thoughts, my favorite reminder:

#my sweet nonnie friends #sleeping at last anon #911 #anti bucktommy #anti tommy kinard #I'M SO TIRED PLEASE #i think i got everything i wanted to put post episode in here #i was waiting to hear from you so we could be salty together but that also means half my thoughts might have escaped during the day #yay for another hellatus 😒

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