#yes he goes back for him but that initial response is so indicative of what the trauma has done to him so early into the show

[k-pepp]

With the final season of YR coming up, I’ve been thinking about Wille’s journey again. Because he’s 16, we won’t know if he actually chooses to renounce his title or remain in his role as future king, but I have a feeling this season will give us an indication which way it will go. So, before we get any type of confirmation, I want to get my current thoughts out. I’m aware that a lot of YR Tumblr skews toward King Wilhelm so my pro-renounce post might not resonate with anyone and that’s ok. I just want to put all my thoughts together before S3 comes along with something that totally blows all my opinions and assumptions out of the water 🙂 I understand the idea of wanting Wille to be King because he could be such a great leader. He is kind and compassionate and can be good at taking charge. BUT just because a person could be good at something, doesn’t mean they should be forced to do it. My number one reason for being in favor of Renouncing his Title is the sheer fact that Wille doesn’t want to be King. He doesn’t want the title. He doesn’t want that life. Wille has been shown a multitude of times talking about how he struggles with the duties that come with being a prince. Whether it’s with Erik:

Or August:

Or Boris:

(honestly, this boy will spill his guts to anyone who is willing to even half listen to him. My god. I’m so glad they gave this poor kid a therapist) He's also talked about how he feels trapped in this position. For him, to renounce the throne would be freedom. Freedom to live a life he actually wants.

Even the mere idea of staying in his current position makes him physically ill.

Some people take the end of episode 2x06 to mean he’s moved beyond all that and accepted his role as the future king. I didn’t personally see it that way. I saw it as a combination of a few things. 1) When come face-to-face with it, he just couldn’t let August give the speech (But the fact that he was initially willing to let someone who distributed revenge porn against him become king really speaks to how much he definitely doesn’t want that position) 2) He didn’t want Simon to have to compromise his happiness and give in to a situation he didn’t actually want 3) He didn’t want to hide anymore. He wanted to be himself. Wille is a person who craves authenticity. Which brings me to a bigger point… Life as the Crown Prince / King is inherently inauthentic. One of the main pro-King arguments is that he would blaze his own trail and do things his way. But how? Being a member of the royal family is a job. The basic responsibilities of that job are to do things like diplomatic visits, hosting events, being part of photo ops, schmoozing with people… pretty much all things having to do with putting on a public persona. It’s great that he could be himself in the sense that he would be the first queer Crown Prince / King, but the baseline duties he would have to fulfill are still inherently inauthentic. And I don’t know how he would “do it his way” aside from just not doing it. He hates putting on fake smiles

the photo ops

the schmoozing with people

Erik even told Wille, the way to get through that stuff is to just pretend to be someone else.

We know he’s capable of doing it. We saw how charming he could be at Parents Day weekend. But that was because he wanted to sit with Simon and impress Simon’s mom. Other than that lunch, he mostly hid in his room. And it goes back to my original point. Just because someone may be good at something doesn’t mean they should be forced to do it. (And yes, even if he walked away from the line of succession, he could still have familial obligations, but it wouldn’t be anywhere near the level of what is expected now) At this point, Wille is only continuing as Crown Prince because of a commitment to his family. Mainly Erik.

He doesn’t want to let him down or feel like he’s betraying his legacy. To Wille, Erik was perfect. We only saw two full conversations between them and in both conversations, Erik was telling Wille to get his act together because “it’s not that hard”.

That quote is probably something he told Wille a lot. So much that Wille later regurgitates it to Boris. Three different times.  

Going on to say that Erik could handle everything easily.  

Based on the fact that Erik was going to Boris, he probably wasn’t managing everything with ease. But in Wille’s perception, he was. Wille is basically chasing a ghost. Self-imposed pressure of unattainable perfection. He bears a guilt that pushes him to want to be someone he thinks Erik would be proud of.   The problem with that is, Erik was a monarchist. Maybe he struggled a bit (which is why he went to Boris), but based on the things he would say to Wille, he backed the monarchy / family completely.

Ultimately, I just want Wille to be happy. Maybe S3 will completely change my outlook and I’ll root for him to become king because that’s what he wants. But right now, I think he only wants it out of a sense of obligation to Erik. And honestly…maybe my most controversial opinion…if he did stay in his position because of Erik, he probably wouldn’t change that much within the institution. I mean, he couldn’t change much even if he wanted to. He wouldn’t be allowed to do big things without the consent of the Swedish parliament and maybe a public referendum. And I doubt he’d even have the capability to make small changes. As already pointed out by @piebingo in this great post, Kristina didn’t actually want August to be next in line. But she was overruled. The Royal Court has a lot of power and making any sort of reforms or independent decisions is not that simple. Especially within an establishment that relies on keeping everything exactly the same. But even if that weren’t true. Even if Wille could snap his fingers and make all these huge changes… part of me doesn’t think he would. I know a lot of the folks who are pro-King Wilhelm want him to become the king just so he can completely destroy it from within. But to me, in Wille’s eyes there would be no bigger betrayal to Erik’s legacy than Wille burning the institution to the ground. And if he wants to live up to Erik’s legacy. Not betray him. Not let him down. He will act as he thinks Erik would act. If Wille becomes king because of Erik, he’ll maintain the establishment because of Erik. And he would be miserable doing it. Miserable and without Simon. Yes, my other controversial opinion. If Wille stayed as king, Wilmon wouldn’t make it. Simon is described to us as a socialist. One of his introductory scenes is him calling the monarchy the country’s biggest welfare scammers. I can’t imagine Simon giving up his musical dreams to join an institution that he hates. I also can’t imagine Wille letting him do that. That was such a big part of Wille’s growth in Season 2. Wille wouldn’t let Simon sacrifice his happiness for the sake of his own happiness (being with Simon). Even if Simon didn’t end up pursuing something in music, he made it clear in his talk with Rosh and Ayub that he wants to work hard to make something of himself.

I mean, look at him. Look at this sweet baby angel’s face when he’s told he has an opportunity that will open doors to his future. I can’t imagine him giving up his ambitions or autonomy to become prince consort. Having to live every day under royal rules and protocols. Maybe he would. I personally can’t see it. And finally, I know a main reason people like the idea of King Wille is because we like the idea of a queer king. But as much as we all want queer representation; I don’t think it should be anybody’s responsibility to be the political representation that people want to see. Wille shouldn’t be in a position he hates because he’s queer. A queer person living their life and getting out of a toxic situation is also good representation. A person can’t fix the problem by becoming part of it. Having him be the face of an institution that’s been about exploitation and oppression isn’t going to solve it. It's always been said by Lisa and Edvin that Wille’s problem is not that he’s queer. It’s that he’s a prince. Everything about what’s making him unhappy is about him being prince / the future king. Him walking away from his title would be about him escaping a future that would make him miserable. Personally, that’s what I’m hoping for.

[the-hidden-writer]

A Piece of True Fiction: Chapter 7

An Alan Wake 2 fic. Spoilers for Alan Wake 2!

Summary: Aleksi Kesä manages to slip out of the spiral and film he was trapped in.

Saga Anderson, caught in the middle of Wake's horror story, finds a man that looks identical to her partner in the middle of the woods. He's lost, confused, and only seems to speak Finnish. Saga has to try and uncover the truth as well as trying to save her family. Where did he come from? How did he get here?

And where's her Casey?

Chapter Summary: Saga is trapped in the cell block during the blackout with only Alan and Ilmo for company. Warnings: brief description of blood/injury Words: 2,147 AO3 Link: [Here!] [First part] [Previous part] [Next part]

A Piece of True Fiction

Chapter 7: The Wrong Side

Saga pounds on the door for the hundredth time.

“Hello?! Estevez?! Anyone, please, I’m stuck in here! Open the door!”

Nobody comes to her aid. The gunfire and shouting from earlier had slowly died away, but there’s no indication that anyone can hear her on the other side.

“They’re all fucking dead, Saga.” Ilmo says, dejected. After the initial panic at the blackout, he’d urged Saga to find a way out and to take him with her. When over thirty minutes passed with no luck, he’d silently sat on the cot in his cell in defeat.

Despite the high chance of him being right, Saga doesn’t let it break her spirit. There were so many agents, at least one had to have survived whoever or whatever attacked. Had it been the Taken? 

Had it been Scratch?

The red light that indicated the locked nature of the door had gone out completely, leaving both doors of the cell block jammed shut. Saga had tried to force it with her good shoulder but had quickly given up. She knew she wouldn’t be able to force it open and any further attempts would be a waste of precious energy.

Saga knocks again. No response.

From behind her, she hears Wake groan. He’d reacted worst to the blackout, becoming incoherent and hysterical until he’d passed out entirely on the floor. Once she’d used her flashlight to make sure his chest was still rising and falling, Saga had focused on trying to get out. Him making sounds is a good indication that he’s waking up at least, even if they’re sounds of pain.

Ilmo hears it too and curses.

Saga knocks again. “Hello?!”

No response.

Wake groans again, louder. Deciding that she can spare two minutes without knocking, Saga approaches his cell.

He isn’t sprawled on the floor anymore, but is instead on his knees facing away from her. His elbows are resting on the cot and his fingers dig into his scalp. Another migraine?

“Saga…” he whispers.

Saga goes to reply when Wake starts to talk again.

“Fuck… Scratch- no, yes, Scratch. Why would he… what happened to my story? My story. This isn’t right. It doesn’t make sense, there has to be an escape, why would the hero-”

He continues his ramble. Saga can only make out bits and pieces between the man’s incoherent sentences and ragged breaths. She wants to ask what’s going on. Something holds her back and makes her more inclined to just listen.

“-It’s right but wrong. Wrong what? Right people, but still empty inside. An empty scene. An empty cell. One half of a fractured whole. Right place but… wrong time. Saga… Casey…”

At the mention of Casey’s name, Saga’s focus locks onto Wake’s words with the hope of finding any clue about what’s going on.

“-out of control. It’s… too soon. It’s too soon, or- no, that’s not it. Then what..? Could it be… on the wrong side? The wrong side. The wrong side of the story, an echo or phantom of another. Wait, no, it’s the door. The wrong side of the door. A door that leads where? The station? To the change? To someone. Scratch? Or… to family. A friend. Or maybe… what if it’s not a door, but a mirror? The wrong side of the mirror, my mirror. It’s shattered. No, twisted. Not mine, not anymore. But then who…”

She can’t help herself. 

“Wake?”

Alan jumps at the sound of her voice. His elbows slip from the metal cot and he faceplants into it as a result, with the thump from the impact echoing around the cell.

Alan lets out a small, pained whimper as he forces himself back onto his feet. He rubs his forehead and winces. “Fuck…”

If it was anyone else, Saga would have apologized. Because it’s Wake, Saga feels a sliver of satisfaction. 

“Saga!” Wake rebalances himself and rushes toward the bars again. “You shouldn’t be here. You’re on the wrong-”

“The wrong side of the door, yeah, I got that part.” Saga finishes. It feels like stating the obvious. “Do you remember anything else?”

Wake shakes his head. “Uh… maybe? I don’t know, it’s already slipping away. But it was hazy to begin with… it was like a different version of events. I’ve been feeling this really strong déjà vu. It’s like I’m reliving a memory that ends up deviating, but by the time I’ve noticed a difference I can’t remember the original. Only bits and pieces I can hardly make sense of.”

Saga’s left conflicted. Should she tell him that she… gets it? Maybe not the remembering part, but the déjà vu and feeling like she’s going down the wrong track with all her choices is something that she has definitely been experiencing but hasn’t been able to articulate. 

She decides not to. Wake’s the crazy one, the one who was trapped in a lake and caused all this madness through Scratch- who wouldn’t exist without him, most likely. She doesn’t want to admit that she’s feeling the same as him, and neither does she want to bring him down to her level. It’s clear he has far more experience and is knowledgeable in everything that’s going on, even if he can’t remember half of it, so if they’re struggling with the same feeling…

It would mean that they’re both out of their depth. And that thought is terrifying.

She’s about to ask for clarification on some of the other things he’d said, such as the mention of her and Casey’s name, when their conversation is interrupted by four sharp, distinct knocks.

“Anderson? You in there?”

She and Wake make eye contact for less than a second before Saga darts back toward the door to knock back.

“Estevez! Is that you? I’m here!” She calls. She also notices Ilmo stand back up in anticipation.

“Oh thank God, I was worried they’d found a way in.” Estevez’s voice returns. She sounds out of breath.

Saga immediately starts asking for more information. “Who? What happened?”

“We got swarmed by individuals infected with the Shadow. We weren’t ready… a lot of the people here were infected. But uh- are you good in there? What’s the status on Wake and Koskela?”

“Ask about my brother.” Ilmo sternly demands.

“They’re fine.” Saga answers, prompting swearing from Ilmo. “Wake was out for a while but he’s up again now. Is it clear out there? I can help fight if you get me out.”

“We’re working on it, just need to fix the fuse box. There’s seven survivors up here including me but they got my leg pretty bad. It’s uh… it hurts. It isn’t clear yet though. We got some of them down, but plenty of us got infected. For some reason a few of the Shadow people didn’t attack and just seemed to want to walk through. Gave the couple of us the chance to retreat. I think the ones that got past were headed down into the basement. I’m pretty sure I can hear them still fighting.”

The part about the behavior of (what she assumes are) the Taken strikes a chord of familiarity in Saga. They’d been acting weirdly dismissive in her last encounter with them back in Coffee World, when she was defending Kesä. Even more strangely was that it was like they were being dismissive in favor of attacking him.

Wait.

The basement is connected to the morgue. The morgue where she’d left Kesä in the hands of the FBC. Fuck. She lets out a panicked shout. “Casey’s down there!”

“So is my team.” Estevez counters. “I don’t want to send more down in case they turn too. I just don’t know how things got out of hand so quickly! I know we were low on resources but… this is really bad.”

Saga tries to calm herself by breathing deeply. She’s starting to make connections between events that make her very nervous. It’s only a hypothesis at this stage, but she feels the need to warn Estevez just in case there’s any semblance of truth to it.

“No, you don’t get it. I think the Taken are targeting him.”

Twice now the Taken have ignored potential victims and made their way toward Kesä’s position. It might just be a coincidence- Saga prays that it is. Still, she struggles to hold out hope, even if she can’t deduce the motive behind it.

“Why?” Estevez rightly questions.

“I don’t know, it happened at Coffee World, but you can’t let them get to him! Get this door open and I’ll find him myself!”

“Agent Miller’s gone down to try and replace the fuse. I’ll open the door first thing as soon as we get power. Hang tight, Anderson. I’ll be back as soon as I have an update.”

Saga hears movement from the other side of the door followed by faint voices from further away. Estevez has probably moved.

Saga turns around to face the cells again. Even though she now has reassurance that there are survivors and that they’re working on a solution, the fight having moved toward the vulnerable version of Casey increases her worry tenfold.

“Why didn’t you ask, Saga?”

Through the darkness, Ilmo exudes a sinister, threatening aura. His voice is low and firm. There isn’t a hint of the smile he often wears. Instead, he bears an utterly serious expression that makes Saga, for the first time, believe he could be a cult leader. It looks as if he would commit murder if not for the bars acting as a safety net. It’s entirely uncharacteristic from what Saga has seen of him so far.

She tries to defend herself. “My partner’s in danger. I’ll ask once this door’s open.”

“I need to see him.” Ilmo says in that same dangerous tone.

“I know.” Saga does really understand. Blood is thicker than water, especially when the blood is your own. Logan is everything to her, and while she doesn’t know if Ilmo has family besides Jaakko, she can imagine being separated from his twin in the midst of all the death and chaos must be torture.

It takes another ten minutes before the lights of the cell block flicker back on. Saga readies herself by the door in anticipation for the red light to turn green.

“What’s your plan, Saga?” Wake asks. He sounds a little more stable now, albeit frightened and frustrated.

Her response is a no-brainer. “Find Casey. Figure out what’s going on with him. Stop your story from coming true.”

“And find the Clicker?”

Oh yeah, she’d lied to him about that. Continuing to keep it from him is probably the wisest option. She doesn’t plan on handing it over until she’s certain he can fix things anyways. “And find the Clicker.”

“The cult should have it,” he adds. “This is all new territory but you’re a good hero, you’ll make it work. You have to. Even if-”

Alan pauses for a second. “Nevermind. It wouldn’t make sense.”

“Even if what?” Saga prompts just as she hears movement on the other side of the door. There’s a beep indicating the door being unlocked.

Alan sighs and then relents. “Look, I don’t know for sure, but… the man you found might not be Casey. Or at least not the one you know. Just be careful.”

The door swings open as Saga tries to wrap her head around what the fuck Wake meant by that. She knows it’s not the Casey she’s familiar with, so then what is he implying? That it’s actually a different person? Not just her Casey, transformed?

She’s met with Agent Estevez on the other side. Saga’s eyes are immediately drawn to her heavily wounded leg. Something had sliced right into her thigh, exposing flesh and muscle fibers oozing out blood and leaving Saga feeling grateful that her own arm injury is nowhere as severe. Coupled with the sweat beading down the agent’s forehead, she looks to be deeply in pain. 

“Anderson.” Estevez greets professionally through labored breaths. “Glad to see you're still yourself.”

“Likewise,” says Saga. Then she can’t help herself. “That leg doesn’t look good.”

Estevez lets out a shaky sigh. “Feels even worse. That’s why I think I’m going to have to take you up on that offer to help. We haven’t recovered anyone and I can’t go into the basement myself, so-”

“I’ll go.” 

Forcing a small smile, Estevez nods and steps aside to let her out. “Thanks Agent.”

As she exits, Wake and Ilmo shout after her about the Clicker and Jaakko respectively. Saga pushes both thoughts aside. Yes, they need to be dealt with, but they aren’t her priority at the moment.

Estevez said that they hadn’t recovered anyone. That means Casey’s still down there.

That means that she will blast through as many Taken necessary to get to him, Wake’s warning be damned.

saga: wow wake has been through so much for 13 years straight. he has experienced the horrors. while he's out of line for bringing innocent people into it, i do feel sympathy for him. alan: *faceplants into a hard surface* saga: :)

Thanks for reading! I'm having a blast writing this fic :D

[midorishinji]

Disappearing act - chapter V

Geto observed her more carefully, trying to decide whether she was being serious or not. — Killing non-sorcerers? — It's an option, but I don't take it seriously. Do you? — Yuki pressed him with a loaded question. Suguru Geto thought of them all — Shoko, Nanami, Haibara, Riko, Kuroi, his parents, Satoru — and his chest filled with an unbearable pain, but also an incredibly monumental love, so much that it felt like it would stretch and burst at the seams of his heart that could not contain it. He thought of his father again, reading him "Night on the Galactic Railroad" when he was young, and he thought of Satoru reading his own copy now during his leisure nights. He thought of Giovanni and Campanella, and of the Scorpio of the night sky, and of the nobility of sacrifice, of setting yourself on fire to warm the world.

Satosugu ｜Finalized｜Long fic｜Also being published in Portuguese and on AO3

Chapters: I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII - VIII - IX - X - XI - XII - XIII - XIV - XV - XVI - XVII

Chapter V: because in spite of everything, I still believe that people are really good at heart

Months passed with impressive speed, the days merging into one another, indistinguishable. A year had gone by, and the next summer arrived, bringing a scorching, rainy August.

The Time Vessel Association disappeared into the shadows, acting silently: after the fusion fiasco, no threats or coup attempts had been made to influence the jujutsu world; it was as if the group no longer had any objective, even though they knew that wasn't true. The confirmation of a new leader — a woman, according to rumors — indicated that the cult's plans were not over yet and that they were perhaps about to enter a new phase. For now, everything was but a mystery.

The most recent rumor that had students at Tokyo's Jujutsu High interested was the return of special-grade sorcerer Yuki Tsukumo. She would be back that afternoon, the same afternoon that Yu Haibara and Kento Nanami would leave for a mission.

The rumors didn't worry Suguru Geto; he was never the type of person to pay attention to other people's conversations. He and Haibara spent the morning training together, in preparation for the grade 2 mission that the youngest would be leaving for later that day. After a long and exhausting fight, and a good bath, Geto lay down on the grass in the garden to rest.

Someone lay down next to him. — Working hard or hardly working?

He turned to the side, surprised, when he didn't recognize the voice or the person speaking to him. — Huh…?

— Yuki Tsukumo, special-grade sorcerer. — the young woman introduced herself, with a friendly smile.

Geto tried to hide his surprise. — Suguru Geto.

— So you have heard of me! So, what are you guys talking about around here? That I'm a legendary sorcerer? That I have a super special technique? — she asked, excitedly. Her upbeat, carefree manner seemed artificially calculated to make a good impression.

— That you are a lazy bum who goes abroad to avoid going on missions.

The honesty made her burst into infectious laughter. — So that's it…! Tell me, you and Satoru Gojo are friends, aren't you?

Suguru understood her sudden interest. — Yes, but he went on a mission. He should be back today.

— I know. You know, since the story about the girl who was the Star Plasma Vessel, I've been keeping an eye on the whole situation pretty closely, so that also means I’ve been keeping an eye on you guys. — Yuki said — Initially, I thought this was Gojo's doing... He made the girl disappear by faking her death to prevent her from being absorbed by Master Tengen. But then the Time Vessel Association took responsibility for it all and claimed to have taken her body. It convinced the elders, I’ll admit, even if any half-assed lie would convince them. But Satoru Gojo is not capable of this type of strategy.

Geto watched her, calmly, his face frozen in a serene expression. — And your point is…?

— Satoru Gojo is not the strategist type. He acts on impulse, and he’s not the kind of guy who is afraid of the elders, he does whatever he wants because, after all, he is Satoru Gojo; who would stand up against him, anyways? But this was a well-thought-out plan. Something that needs a brain behind it to make it work.

He understood exactly where she was going. — And I'm that brain?

— Exactly. Someone who can manipulate the situation in your favor... The girl didn't die, did she? Neither she nor the guardian. I'm already sure of that. They’re probably somewhere safe, hopefully far away from here. But counting on the group's collaboration was the master move needed to bury this matter once and for all, along with the empty coffins.

— We would never ally ourselves with these motherfuckers. — Geto cursed, turning his gaze to the sky. The image of Satoru covered in his own blood, of the gun barrel pointed at Riko's head, all of it came back to his memory in vivid flashes. A wave of slow anger grew in his heart, long after the fury of that time had subsided, as if the dam that kept away this bitter feeling had burst.

— Hey, there's no need to be defensive. You know, if they had just intended to kidnap the girl to stop the merging, I would have helped. — Yuki replied, biting her lip — I know what it's like. Didn't they ever tell you that I was almost a Star Plasma Vessel?

That was enough to pique Suguru's interest, who let his facial expressions betray him by raising his eyebrows. — Really?

Tsukumo smiled. — For real. I kind of escaped because I said that if they tried to force me to merge, I would kill anyone who got in my way. Besides, I wasn't a completely compatible vessel… The elders would rather not risk it.

— So that's why you despise the jujutsu world… — he muttered, thoughtfully. That was the true power of a special-grade sorcerer: being able to do whatever you want, whenever you want, because there is no one powerful enough to stop you. Riko wasn't that lucky.

— No. I despise the methods they employ... We’re not treating the cause of the problem, only the symptoms, when we just keep exorcising curses. It's a job as useless as Sisyphus's. — Yuki explained, sitting up — Curses will continue to exist because they are a direct product of the subconscious of non-sorcerers, who cannot control their cursed energy like we can. Killing curses does not stop them from being born again. For this to happen, we either eliminate all non-sorcerers, or teach them to control their own cursed energy to prevent this accidental leakage.

Geto observed her more carefully, trying to assess whether she was serious or not. — Killing non-sorcerers?

— It's an option, but I don't take it seriously. Do you? — Yuki pressed him with a loaded question.

Suguru remembered Amanai's terrified face in front of the gun barrel, Toji Fushiguro's knack for absolute destruction, and the insanity of the Time Vessel Association in ordering skilled assassins to kill a 14-year-old girl and her non-combatant guardian. He remembered Toji piercing Satoru's throat with the blade. He remembered all that blood, that carnage. Thinking of all this made the darkness in his heart grow a little more: why were they doing all this, anyway? Not only did non-sorcerers not feel grateful even though they were being constantly saved, but they would also turn against their saviors, like the members of the damn cult did by trying to destroy jujutsu society. What is the purpose of saving a species that is not even capable of saving itself? He was tired. Tired of so many missions that overlapped with one another, of risking his life in a thankless and undignified work, of seeing his friends and companions being injured and killed in cruel battles. They were teenagers, as Riko was too: it wasn't fair that they had to go through all this horror, without any reward, without any reasoning. A jujutsu sorcerer doesn't die without regrets, that's what Professor Yaga always said.

— I had never thought of it that way before. — he admitted, begrudgingly. The rain clouds that covered the sun at that moment cast shadows that accentuated the dark circles on his exhausted face.

Yuki didn't seem worried about the glimpse she got into the depths of Geto's heart. — Then think about it, and make up your mind. Form an opinion on it. You're a smart guy... You'll come to the right conclusion.

— What if the conclusion I come to is that we need to exterminate all non-sorcerers?

The question escaped Geto's lips, surprising him, but it didn't daze Tsukumo. — If you really thought that, you wouldn't have gone so far to save the girl and her guardian.

At that moment, Suguru Geto thought of Riko again: not Riko on the verge of death, not the expression of terror as he and Satoru helped her spill her blood through the temple, not the sweat running down her temples as Shoko did her best to heal her after this bloody cheap trick, no... He thought of Riko Amanai playing volleyball on the beach in Okinawa; he thought of her astonished face when she saw the fish in the aquarium, and how she sent him a letter talking about how things were going and asking for book recommendations, because she loved “Night on the Galactic Railroad,” and he thought of the Christmas gifts they’ve exchanged, and of how he and Satoru, both only children, now had a younger sister who had entered high school this year and was part of the badminton team and the literature club. He thought of Riko in tears, saying that she wanted to live. Other non-sorcerers would probably act the same way if they were in her position.

He thought of his parents, both non-sorcerers, ordinary citizens. He thought about his mother's smile, and how she affectionately played with his hair to lull him to sleep whenever he was home on vacation, regardless of his age. He thought of his father building wooden cars and trains for him when he was little, and how he taught him to carve once he grew a little older, his hands so skilled but calloused from hard work.

Geto thought of Satoru, and how he tried his best to become stronger and protect everyone, trying to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders like a damn Messiah, because Satoru Gojo wasn't nearly as selfish as he liked to appear. He thought about Shoko, and how he saw her heal someone for the first time when he himself was slashed in the shoulder on a mission, her eyes focused and the sweat dripping from her forehead whenever she felt someone else's pain to give them back life, ripping out a piece of herself for others. He thought of Nanami and Haibara, his underclassmen, still so inexperienced, and how he wanted to protect them from all the evil, from all the pain that a jujutsu sorcerer faced on a daily basis.

Suguru Geto thought of them all, and his chest filled with an unbearable pain, but also an incredibly monumental love, so much that it felt like it would stretch and burst at the seams of his heart that could not contain it. He thought of his father again, reading him "Night on the Galactic Railroad" when he was young, and he thought of Satoru reading his own copy now during his leisure nights. He thought of Giovanni and Campanella, and of the Scorpio of the night sky, and of the nobility of sacrifice, of setting yourself on fire to warm the world.. Since he was a child, he had dreamed of being someone who gave himself completely to others; how could he even consider betraying himself, his ideals? How could he consider hurting the weakest?

— Tsukumo-san, I think you're right. — he said, with a small smile — If I didn't believe so much that I needed to protect the weakest, I wouldn't be so sentimental about this all. Satoru is right, you know: I need to become stronger, so he doesn't have to carry this burden alone.

She nodded, looking over the horizon. — One day, we will change society. Not only the jujutsu world, but society as a whole. No one will ever need to suffer because of curses again. We will put an end to them once and for all.

[garrulousgeologist]

[S] Kells: Return.

I read too much Homestuck and now I have several posts queued.

So initially I put off reading more Homestuck because I care about Dave Strider too much. Seeing him in his room filled me with so many emotions it’s kind of ridiculous. But then when I did start reading I kind of just didn’t stop.

I keep a google doc open each time I sit down to read where I just dump my thoughts as I go and then edit and post them here later, it’s usually a few pages long. Right now I’m editing 25 pages of thoughts. Sooo posts to come, but back to Dave.

I just love this kid.

All parental complications in HS aside, Dave is such a cool kid. I get overwhelmed with the feeling that if he were my kid I would be so, so proud of him. He is so full of anxiety and is fucked up as a result of his environment, aren’t we all, but look at him!

Interest and talent in music, engineering, photography, design, graphic art, katana combat styles, literature, preservation and taxonomy, pop culture, web design, social media literacy, history, cinema, computer science, and the list could go on much longer. He seems genuinely interested in all of this, not just for show, though he plays the irony of everything.

Also, apple juice is one of my comfort foods and has been since I was like 5 years old. I have a huge soft spot for this guy. 

So why did that make me hesitate to read his introduction for a week? For the same reason I never end up finishing teen superhero comics, anime or T.V. shows; I have a hard time watching kids get manipulated and abused. Yes they are usually predictable pieces of media and I know they’ll end up “happy” most of the time, but I can’t help that I take it a little too seriously. The adults in any ‘hero’’s life utterly fail them.

No kid should feel like they have to excel at all of this to merely survive, and yet here Dave is.

Grand snack fuckyeah is what I’m going to say every time I enter a 7/11 from now on. 

Hello??? I had no fucking idea midnight crew was a webcomic on Dave’s Internet. I knew it was on mspaintadventures.com of course, I read it, but I never registered that he would have recognized them. I wonder if he gives any indication of this when interacting with them in person, which may or may not happen later due to circumstances that arise. 

"You push against the MANHOLE COVER, but it seems some unbelievable jackass has parked your GETAWAY VAN on top of it.

A familiar feeling stirs. That feeling is overwhelming, soul-blackening rage.

It's the sort of rage that'll make a man feel totally justified in sporting an unnecessarily elaborate assortment of fancy blades."

Something  I’ll try to keep in mind- Spades Slick has anger management issues. One thing goes un-according to plan and it’s immediate, inconsolable, violent rage. Surely this won’t become relevant in the future.

I miss the interactions between these two. Sibling energy in the best way possible. Some distant memory is telling me my favorite pesterlogs to read back in the day were between Rose and Dave, like specifically seeing the red and lilac chat logs triggers a happy feeling. Excited for more of this. 

Got me straight giggling. 

Something about genuine concern this early on in Dave’s story reads as particularly endearing. That being said if I accidentally killed a crow that caw’d at my bedroom window at 13 I would be deeply troubled. 

Skips back to rose- 

Each kid has immense amounts of blind respect for their respective guardian. John believes his dad to be doing important and responsible things at all times. Dave believes his bro is the most amazing person anyone could ever have as a brother. Anything he does must be either objectively sicknasty, or ironically hilarious. Bro is just doing what he can to make Dave strong, right? Well, yeah, maybe he is, that doesn’t negate the irreparable damage his methods cause, though.

Rose, someone I think might be the most likely to recognize her parent is just as human as she is, has the same perspective. No amount of hyper intellectualizing can change the fact that a kid is a kid. 

There is nothing to psychoanalyze. Your mother clearly has no real affinity for these damnable things. She only collects them to spite you.

If anything, she finds them even more repellent than you do. She's just a committed woman.

She hates the wizard statues and paintings, and her conclusion is that her mother can’t actually like these ridiculous motifs, so she must be placing them strategically around the house to spite her. The passive-aggression as Rose sees it could just as easily be her mom genuinely trying to connect with her daughter(sister,mom) but failing due to alcoholism and an unhealthy work-life balance.

In all cases, the kids assume their guardians' behavior is the way that it is because of their own interests. This is despite each guardian having a particular interest that particularly freaks out their respective kid. And, at the same time, have their interests and aversions because of their guardian’s behavior.

(And later it comes to light that these interests and behaviors are reflected in the alpha kids’ experiences, making the topics each human is savvy to a loop).

Homestuck is many things all at once. This is part of the reason it is so difficult to describe to someone who hasn’t experienced it! (hot take)

One of those things is a coming of age story. 

This is reflected in the human kids idolizing their guardians and then growing to realize they were just people doing their best and made any mistakes that the kids now have to grapple with. A similar situation can be said of the troll kids idolizing their ancestors and then coming to recognize similar things about them as they age.

Both species have a strong sense of separation between adolescence and adulthood, eventually growing to see the lines are extremely muddled. What is that if not a coming of age concept? Who among us (sus) has not suddenly recognized the flaws in our guardians? Don’t answer that I don’t want to go that deep outside the media.

Oh my GOD I forgot about the Lalonde home fridge magnets. I need some. W.

Right after that is the first pesterlog with Jade!! I remember her being way more in-the-know about certain things like the frog ruins, etc, but I completely forgot she just kind of like knows things.

Hmm alright

Back to John chasing the ink monster. In hindsight I think I recognized that Dave messaged John a little differently than everyone else, but reading it now he’s very clearly got a crush. The in-his-DMs version of scrambling. The guy is just throwing all he has out and living off the vapors of combusting hope that something sticks.

. . .

I’m using this as an insult in my daily life now. That one stuck, Dave.

H

H-Hom..

Anyway. Put the bunny back in the box.

I just realized echeladder is a stupid fucking word. Weird fight to pick out of everything I could criticize at this point in HS, but echelon means ladder. Why..Why make it Echeladder. For to make Kells angy?

EVERYONE SHUT UP!

NANASPRITE!!! <3

Jfc The Medium. There is so much I need to re-learn. 

Me too, John. Sorry to have so many pesterlogs in this post! I don’t mean to cheapen my own reflections. I just don’t see the point in rephrasing this copied-homework style, especially when I don’t fully understand what’s being said. It’s really nice that someone is finally asking direct questions and getting direct answers though! The funny thing is in high school I thought John was lame for being so blunt and basic with his communication with his sprite, and now I’m like oh thank fuck there’s at least one logical and non-convoluted conversation between a Sburb mechanic and a player character. 

I’ll leave out the [S] GO ON. text but needless to say: Skaia.

I don’t think I ever processed the game of chess being forces of light vs. dark, but I don’t think that changes my perspective at all. That’s kind of a basic concept and in this case seems to be literal anyway. 

[S] Dave: Retrieve dead bird.

The red hot swirling sun over Texas zooming out to be Dave’s eye in some not-so-subtle foreshadowing never gets old for me. Love the imagery there.

Rose is updating her walkthrough again, so far the only text I’m just unwilling to give a thorough read-through. I skim it, okay? 

I also JUST put together that the imps’ jester hats, the jester themed chess pieces of Skaia and other imagery is part of a shitty paradoxical loop that continuously forces clownery upon every aspect of this fucking comic. I guess previously I assumed that’s just how they were as opposed to a blank canvas imp with jester imagery added to it.

"So don't change the dizzle, turn it up a little

I got a living room full of fine dime brizzles

Waiting on the Pizzle, the Dizzle and the Shizzle

G's to the bizzack, now ladies here we gizzo

When the pimp's in the crib ma

Drop it like it's hot

Drop it like it's hot

Drop it like it's hot..."

-English Romantic poet, John Keats

I’m not even going to correct this one you should know who said that. 

Tl;dr

Dave and Rose are Kell’s favorite kids, it’s a hard decision but it’s Kells’ truth. Jade deserves more credit!! Nanasprite is helpful but Kells has dumb babby disease and continues to do research. Clown culture in Homestuck is weird. It’s weird that there’s a Homestuck clown culture.

[morganwrites12672]

omg i love ur writing and was so happy to see u added peter hayes to ur list 🥰 could u write something where he’s hiding a relationship with the reader but is struggling/fails completely

Yes! Of course!

Requests are open; check my pinned post for details!

Peter Hayes x Reader

You gasp as someone wraps their arms around you. You look both ways and see the hallways are empty. so, you allow him to rest his in the crook of your neck.

"Hello, Peter," you say with a smile. He mumbles something into your skin as a response. You groan, "I can't hear you baby,"

He moves his head from your neck and spins you around, "I said, why can't we just be public? So what you're a trainer?" You roll your eyes. Initiation would be over in two weeks, he could wait.

"Peter, we need to wait. People might think you cheated," you remind and he groans and buries his head in your shoulder. He didn't need any more accusations. With the Edward situation, he had plenty to deal with. Dating one of the trainers?

That's a big no. You were a first year trainer. No way in hell you were risking your spot. Though, Four and Tris had some chemistry. And you had seen her asleep in his apartment. Four explained she was attacked and you believed him, based on the bruises on his knuckles.

"I love you, but meet me in my apartment; 11 o'clock," you say with a kiss as you he repeats your words and smiles. Love. It was technically just stupid teenage love, you were 17 and he was 16, but you both genuinely loved each other.

Peter was having a hard time hiding his relationship with you. You were pretty and most of the guys at Dauntless made heart eyes. He could tell you and Four had been something more then friends at some point. And you also spent a lot of your time with Four.

He would go to your apartment tonight. But did he have to wait? No, he did not have to wait. He was peter hayes.

Peter walked towards where you went. The training room. He walks through the long corridors until he finds what he is looking for. The training room.

He finds you inside working on some new knife throwing techniques. Peter never did understand why you worked so hard. Most of the knifes were hitting dead in bullseye. But it was never good enough for you. So, how was he good enough?

"What's wrong?" You ask. Peter didn't visit you in broad daylight; unless something was wrong.

"I missed you," he replies and you set down your knives and put them away before walking out and he follows. You start the walk back to your apartment.

Peter follows and grabs your hand. You look at him and he is just smiling. You think about how you should probably wait a little after initiation so no one gets suspicious

You see Four give you a curious glance I'm the hallway, "Hello yn. And, peter," he teases. You glare at him and he presses a finger to his lips to indicate he understand the secret part.

You don't run into anyone else (but tris and you threatened to make her faction less if she tells) you are both quickly locked away inside your apartment and Peter flops down on your bed.

He gives you a sly smile as you take a seat next to him. He was wanting to get caught and you knew it. He wouldn't take your word for it. You were one of his trainers, who got to decide who goes and who stays.

"You asshole," you say as you lay down next to him. He just flashes you another one of those stupid smiles that made your legs go weak

"But you love me," he replies with his smile only growing bigger by the passing second. You glare at him until you can't help but smile to. He was adorable. And you were in love.

The chances of the relationship staying successfully hidden until it was appropriate was zero. Peter wouldn't be able to help it. He almost revealed a few times on accident. But you wouldn't care. If it got revealed, so what?

[crellanstein]

Prodigious

I find it odd how the fandom focuses so much on Aang’s childhood being ruined when he learned he was the Avatar at 12, but there’s very little talk about how discovering she was the Avatar as a toddler affected Korra’s life and how she was raised.

But we’ll circle back to that...

Because this is a good starting point to talk about one of the most prevalent themes in the story, which the mainstream discussion of tends to only focus on a few characters -- That is the Child Prodigy. 

We’ll start with the two most obvious. The ones we always talk about.

Azula.

The clearest example of your typical child prodigy (if there is anything typical about a prodigy). Azula showed early mastery of very advanced Fire-Bending techniques, and is the only Fire-Bender to use blue flames, which was intended to make her stand out amongst the other villains but is also indicative that her Fire-Bending is more pure and powerful (blue flame is produced when burning pure O2 or fuel without contaminant at a very high temperature). 

All this lead to her being praised and favored by Ozai as a child, but as double-edged swords go, this also meant she had a lot of pressure on her shoulders to never fail, and she rarely did. Her ego matched her talent, and let’s be honest she was the baddest bitch the show had ever seen. Conquering Ba Sing Se, defeating the Avatar in combat, and dropping some of the most devastating lines of dialogue in villain history; she was a force nobody wanted to reckon with. 

And that become a problem for one asshole in particular...

Being jealous of his own child is just one item on a laundry list of reasons why this guy is the worst father in the history of fathers. Azula had begun to outshine him with her victories, and Ozai’s maniacal ego couldn’t handle that, so he left her behind to babysit the Fire Nation while he went out to burn/conquer the world, which also was her idea.

And while this wasn’t the only thing that aided in her demise, it certainly was the final straw which sent her spiraling down into this...

In the end Azula is a sad example of how certain unfair expectations are placed upon talented children, and the more they succeed, the more these expectations grow and weigh on the them until they either disappoint those looking down on them or surpass and embarrass their elders.

It is a lose-lose situation which inevitably destroys them.

There is a similar example of the child prodigy, but his story goes a little different.

Aang.

Even as a twelve/thirteen year-old boy Aang by far has the most impressive stats among any character in the Avatar universe.

Basically mastering 3 of the 4 Elements in less than a year, after mastering Air by the time he is twelve (not to mention inventing his own Air-bending move, the Air scooter). 

Aang is an example of a child prodigy who had too much thrust onto him at too young an age because of the talent he showed; because of this he panicked and ran away, and the world was worse off for it. 

Aang/Sokka/Katara’s story is all about how in times of War, responsibilities normally handled by adults are pushed onto kids who then have to grow up very fast in order to deal with it all.

The message is clear. War robs the young of their childhoods. 

Now, let’s talk about a different kind of child prodigy.

The Unacknowledged. 

Yes, of course I’m talking about Toph, the greatest Earth-Bender to ever live.

Because of her blindness, Toph’s family tried to keep her sheltered and safe by hiding her from the world. Refusing to believe she could ever be more than helpless. Anyone who has seen the show knows that is far from the truth.

But because her potential went unseen, there were some negative effects to her personality. Initially, she resented her parents, and rebelled; which established a certain level of independence, a bad attitude, and a hot-headed streak. Over time spent with the Gaang these behaviors subsided because she finally had friends and they accepted her for who she was. By the end of the series she was fully willing to accept aid from them when she needed it, like holding on to Sokka’s arm in environment where her bending couldn’t help her “see”. 

Toph’s story is a foil to Azula’s, both showed immense talent and badassery, but while recognition of Azula lead to ever-mounting pressure for her to succeed; the lack of recognition for Toph created a need for her to be acknowledged and set an undercurrent of frustration which leads to her acting out in the ways she does.

The lesson to take from Toph’s story is not to shelter your kid from the world out of fear for their safety, and to be open to recognizing their talents, not shun them.

Next are two more Unacknowledged.

Katara and Sokka.       

Their story, and the reason behind their circumstances, is one of the more complicated and nuanced ones in the series, so here we’ll focus on how it fits into the subject of discussion.

Because of the War, Katara was robbed not only of her mother but also of any Southern Masters to train her, and any role models Sokka could have looked up to left with his father to fight. Because of this Katara’s potential and Sokka’s genius went unacknowledged not due to neglect but rather due to circumstance. (Yes, I think Sokka is a genius, how many 15 yr olds do you know that can plan an invasion, design submarines, and spit poetry off the cuff?).

This is a further example of how War robs kids of necessary childhood experiences, and these two robberies had particular effects on both Katara and Sokka’s character developments.

Sokka had the responsibility of protecting his home put upon him at a young age. The men of his tribe leaving prevented him from completing his rite of manhood until the Gaang ran into Bato of the Water Tribe, and early on Sokka was constantly trying to prove himself as a man and a leader. Sokka is one of the smarter characters of the series, but he rarely got credit for it until the third season. Not to mention that because he wasn’t a bender he often seemed less useful than the others. The circumstances of war made his talent go unnoticed and because of that he often was unsure of himself and overcompensated to prove something.

Speaking of talent going unnoticed.

Katara is definitely one of the more talented benders of the series. After training herself for years with little progress, she essentially mastered Water-Bending in a few weeks under Master Pakku. While her anger towards the Fire-Nation mostly centers around the loss of her mother, it can’t be ignored that the delay in her training was a direct result of the Fire-Nations’ actions.  Toph’s anger and frustration vented itself as rebellion. However, the same frustration and anger is within Katara, but because she wasn’t as natural a bender as Toph she sought to learn and be respected, and when that was denied to her is when that anger bubbled to the surface in some terrifying ways. 

While Toph’s talent went unnoticed because of her families neglect, Katara and Sokka’s wasn’t acknowledged because there was nobody to acknowledge it. Because of that both brother and sister wanted to prove themselves to the world.

And then there is Zuko.

I know what you’re thinking. Zuko wasn’t a prodigy, his Fire-Bending skill didn’t catch up with Azula’s until the finale and he never mastered Lightning-Bending, but this section is about the Unacknowledged.

Zuko had many other talents besides Fire-Bending, he was a master swordsmen, and was able to successfully break into every secure facility he attempted in the show (which was almost every secure facility the show featured).  Unfortunately, these talents were never recognized, because the only thing the royal family cared about was bending ability (It’s possible the reason he learned the sword was because he lacked skill in Fire-Bending). 

As per usual with Zuko, this part of his tale is quite sad. Many can relate to being outshined by a sibling, and when it becomes all too clear that one cannot match another’s talent it’s quite understandable to focus on what they do excel at, but even then there is no promise of recognition for their own talent. Zuko was even mocked by his father during the solar eclipse when Ozai tried baiting him into attacking with his swords. 

This lack of recognition is one of many sad aspects of Zuko’s early life, but it is a definitive example of one of the hardest unacknowledged prodigy’s cross to bear. The Outshone prodigy, one whose talents are never noticed because a bigger and brighter star stands in the way of such recognition, and arguably the most frustrating type mentioned here. Toph/Sokka/Katara all came from situations were there was no recognition being given to them or anyone, but Zuko had to bear watching massive amounts of praise be piled on to his sister while he and his accomplishments went by the way side.

Ozai summed up the situation best.

“Azula was born lucky, Zuko was lucky to be born”

Alright now where have I been going with all this?

So, far we’ve covered a lot of wrong ways to treat a child, whether they show talent or not, and how the circumstances of war can also take many things from children.

But what happened to Korra?

(Before we get into to this I should state that I like Korra, and the purpose of this is not to bash her as a character or her arc, but rather to give a little of my insight into it.)

It’s well established that Aang was told of his heritage too young, and that was a detriment on his development into an adult, but what would have happened if he realized his powers himself not long after he could walk? We’ll never know, but we do get to see the effects it had on Korra. 

When she revealed herself as the Avatar, Korra set her entire life in a new direction, and because Aang tasked the White Lotus with finding and training her that direction was out of her control. There are two key differences between Korras’ and other Avatars’ lives.

1. She grew up in isolation on a White Lotus compound.

Every Avatar before Korra we know of spent a portion of their early lives traveling the world in order to master the elements; along this journey they not only learned how to bend the other 3 elements, buy also many things about the 3 other nations and the world they are tasked to protect as a whole. By confining Korra in safety and bringing the masters to her the White Lotus deprived Korra of this opportunity to learn and grow and understand the world and the people within in. It also deprived her of learning modern bending styles until she reached Republic City.

While this might have kept Korra safe from the Red Lotus, it grew within her a naiveté about how the world worked, and because of this when she actually did venture out into the world she was terribly unprepared for it.

2.  She was trained and mastered 3 of the elements by the time she was 16.

Most Avatars don’t know they have this power until they reach 16 and then they spend several years learning to control it. Korra’s natural talent in the bending lead to her training being expedited not by necessity like Aang’s, but due to her talent and eagerness. Korra excelled at the physical part of being the Avatar and because of this by the time she reached maturity she had become over-confident in her abilities and true to what her Fire-Bending master said in Ep.1 she lacked restraint.

I’m not saying her bending isn’t great, but rather because it is so great it’s her go-to solution to anything, and she enjoys that so she uses it with enthusiastic gusto and not a lot of thinking before striking.

This overconfidence coupled with her naiveté of the world is what lead to many of her rash decisions and actions, most of which had negative consequences, and I believe are the reason behind some fan are dissatisfied with her. Aang had been almost the complete opposite, even by the age of twelve he was an experienced world traveler and an incredibly humble guy. 

Some may have been dissatisfied by these character decisions, but they served a purpose, they are only the beginning of her arc. The internal challenge Korra must overcome through 4 seasons is to humble herself before the world, and learn from it. This was finally achieved in the 4th season when the metal poisoning in her body forces her to face others in the world as equals, only then had she completed her journey.

And why did it all go this way?

Because she is a very unique child prodigy, what she demonstrates in the first episode of LOK would be akin to a toddler playing the violin or hitting a three-pointer; she could bend 3 elements close to just after learning to walk. That is the kind of prodigious talent rarely seen because it is mostly impossible. How does a rational person handle a child like that? 

It’s a tough question, and something this essay has been circling around the whole time. Each example here is the wrong way to handle talented and different children, but what is the right way?

As always look to Iroh.

Who treated his surrogate son Zuko with both respect and compassion. 

Unlike Toph’s parents, Iroh worried over Zuko’s well being, but also allowed him to be independent, make his own decisions, and take his own risks.

Unlike the Nomad Leaders, he didn’t want Zuko weighed down by his position in the world and the responsibility that came with, and always encouraged him relax and take advantage of the moment.

Unlike Ozai, Iroh would always be there to support Zuko in his victories and his failures. Iroh shows him the right path but does not force him down it.

And even after Zuko betrayed and abandoned him.

Iroh was never angry with him, and embraced him upon his return.

He wanted Zuko to grow and be a better man. Even if Zuko wasn’t a prodigy like his sister. 

And that is the answer here. The way to raise a prodigy is the same way anyone should raise any child. Love, Support, a Guiding Hand rather than a Forceful Shove, Recognition of What Makes Them Unique, and Forgiveness When They Falter. The problem comes along when you start treating children differently because you see them as different or special. All children are different, all children are special.

Kids are kids, and they all deserve a proper childhood.  

[michelle-is-writing]

Cooking, Eddie Munson

Word Count: 1.1k~

Usually, if Eddie and I are having dinner, I’m either cooking, or we’re picking something up. So, when Eddie announced to me tonight that he was going to cook for a change, I was mildly shocked. However, I was still excited to see what he would make for us tonight when we arrived at his uncle's place, and the initial shock only grew when I saw how much planning Eddie put into dinner.

“Is spaghetti for dinner okay?” He asks as we set our stuff from school down in the kitchen, my eyes quickly catching the grocery bags littered across the counter. “I got the recipe from an old cookbook, and I know you like pasta and whatnot, so I thought it was a safe option…” he explains, zoning off on the end as if he were suddenly shy. He can be so cute sometimes.

Turning toward him with a heartfelt smile, I hang my arms around his neck while he quickly focuses his hands on my hips, gently swaying us in his hold. “No, that’s great, babe,” I tell him, resting my head against his chest. “I didn’t even know you could boil water,” I further add, earning a laugh in response.

“I boil water all the time, baby!” Eddie reminds me as he moves back to imitate lighting up a bong. I can’t help but roll my eyes at his actions as I turn away from him and focus on putting away our bags. He only smirks at my reaction before heading over to the counter and unbagging everything. As he does so, I question myself on how he was able to get groceries when we just left school and came straight over here. Then again, I did overhear one of the teachers complaining to another teacher about Eddie’s absence in her class today.

“Eddie, you didn’t go back to your classes after lunch, did you?” I ask him, making him let out an almost boy-like giggle at getting caught. Resting against the counter, I watch as Eddie separates everything out, digging through his uncle’s cabinets to find some pans.

“Well, I came back to pick you up when you got out,” he explains, making me laugh. We always ride home together after school; no matter what, Eddie’s always there with his van waiting for me.

“Yes, you did,” I murmur, walking toward him to wrap my arms around him from behind as he starts messing with the knobs on the stove. “And I thank you so much for that.”

At my words, Eddie places a ring-covered hand on my arm to keep me there behind him, moving me with him as he wanders throughout the kitchen, grabbing various things he needs. For a few minutes, I keep up with him until letting him go despite his groans of disapproval. However, his complaining stops as I hop up onto the empty counter beside him and dangle my legs off the edge, Eddie quickly placing himself in between them as soon as I’m situated on the hard surface.

“Don’t let the food burn,” I tell him, gently tapping his nose as he leans in for a kiss. However, before our lips meet, he pulls away from me and stares at me with half-lidded eyes, shaking his head as his long brown hair moves with him.

“Ye lacks faith in her boyfriend, I see!” Eddie teases, making me laugh at his goofy, yet fancy voice. He always uses this voice in his hellfire meetings when he gets into the gameplay, and I love it when he does.

“No, it’s not that!” I say, his brown eyes unwavering as they stare into mine. “I’ve just never seen you cook before, so this is… new.”

“I know how to cook spaghetti, babe!” He argues, comical disbelief in his voice.

“Babe, I make your ramen for you,” I remind him, making him roll his eyes. He doesn’t say anything back to this, and instead settles on resting his head against my chest. I mess with his unruly curls for a few moments before turning my head over to the stove and seeing the familiar foam fall out the edge of the pot, indicating the noodles are over boiling. “Eddie, the noodles!”

At my words, he takes a quick glance over, only to nearly jump in realization as he rushes over to turn the burner down. As soon as he does and the boiling water goes back down, Eddie looks back over to me with a straight face. “That doesn’t count.”

I can only smile at his words as Eddie resumes cooking, cutting up the vegetables as he looks back at the stove every few seconds, a bit more cautious and watchful now. Hopping down from the counter, I resume my place behind him and rewrap my arms around him. “Thank you for cooking dinner, babe,” I murmur into his back, his Metallica t-shirt muffling my voice.

Instead of simply placing his hand on my arm like last time, he turns around in my hold and pulls me to him, leaning his head down to place a kiss on my forehead. “I just wanted to do something nice for you,” he admits, making me crane my head up to face him. “You cook for me all the time, so I wanted to cook for you for once,” Eddie adds, a few seconds before he chuckles a little. “I know it won’t be as good as your food, but it’s the thought that counts, right?”

Shaking my head, I bite my smiling lip before leaning up and pressing my lips to Eddie’s. He quickly kisses me back, but this time, he manages to reach behind him and turn the burner off to avoid another over-boiling situation like last time. Once I pull away, I rest a hand against his chest with a smile. “The spaghetti is going to taste fine, and I do have faith in you, honey,” I assure him, “I know it’s going to taste great.”

Eddie waits a few moments before giving me another quick kiss. “Thank you, babe,” he murmurs before turning us both to face the stove. In front of us, there are two pans and a pot on the various burners, but only the pot has something in it with the pans remaining empty. “Now,” Eddie starts, his one arm still holding me to his hip while the other gestures to the ingredients he has yet to combine. “could you please teach me how to cook the meat?”

[quoththe-ravenn]

Oooo saw you write for Corrupt Sydney and I had a magnificent idea. You know how PC has to corrupt Sydney by doing lewd things and such? Well, this technically goes against canon or whatever but how about a fem!PC that unintentionally corrupted m!Sydney while she stayed pure and holy? Sydney only finds it fitting to get back at her for doing this to him, but he's much more upfront about teaching her the rush that comes with all these lewd behaviors <333

omg anon your brain is so huge I'm sweating. Sorry this has taken so long but irl problems came up. The entire time though I have been writing this scene in my head so HERE YOU GO. <3 <3

TW for corruption (kink?), dubcon, virginity

This got a lot longer than I planned so I put the rest under the cut!

You hadn't meant to do it, Sydney knows. You're too sweet, too innocent for that. But, well-

How could his mind not turn toward lust around you? How could his eyes not linger on your legs as you crossed and uncrossed them while studying? His lips not part when you bent over to retrieve something, your skirt just barely covering your sweet little pussy?

His dick not strain against his pants when you'd stretch your back, the buttons on your shirt straining to stay in place against your pert breasts?

The first time he touched himself to your image, he was glad he had chosen a time when nobody was home. He was overwhelmingly loud when his cum hit the phone in his hand, the image of his cum on your face made him hard all over again.

A touch to his shoulder makes him jump, makes him realize how tight his pants feel. He shifts to cover himself, turning to both face you and keep you from seeing how you affect him.

You look at him with a small pout, brows furrowed softly in concern. Your eyes burn into him, (pure, too pure), asking if he's okay silently. You know better than to speak during one of Jordan's sermons, you're just so good.

A sigh escapes his lips, and he pushes his black hair out of his face; he had changed it for you, had hoped you would notice him the way he always noticed you. It was also the reason why his clothes were fitting a bit tighter these days.

He's about to give a non-committal response when you lean in close, whispering just loud enough for him to hear. "You look stressed today. Is there any way I can help?"

His breath catches, images of you bent over and stuffed full of his cock running rampant in his mind.

His tongue wets his bottom lip, his blue eyes lazily trailing over your body. He could do it. It was only fair, right? Only fair that he makes you feel the way he does. You did this to him, after all.

A wicked little grin spreads before he can stop it. He grabs your hand, indicates that you should follow him. Like a good little girl, you go with him; Sydney's been an initiate here longer than you, after all. He knows what's allowed and what isn't.

If only you realized where that sort of thinking would lead you.

Sydney pulls you into a closet, pushing your back roughly against the door before it has a chance to fully close. You worry the door slam will be grounds for disciplinary action, but Sydney has other plans.

His lips are pressing against yours, rough and biting and tongue invading your mouth. You give a small squeak, trying and failing to pull away.

Something hard touches your stomach and you gasp, frantically pushing against Sydney's shoulders. He leans back, body still keeping you pinned to the door.

"Syd, wh-what are you doing?" You whisper, too afraid someone will hear.

You squirm as he kisses your neck, rubbing against his already throbbing cock. He moans, hands sliding under your shirt. The unfamiliar touch of his fingers rolling your nipples makes your back arch with a loud moan.

"Shh, my sweet. It's okay. I just want to try something. You trust me, don't you?" He gives you the same sweet smile he's always reserved just for you.

You bite your lip, cheeks starting to burn red. "Yes," the word is quiet. You love him, after all. You know he wouldn't do anything to hurt you.

He nips your collarbone, grin sliding into place. "Good, that's good." He tweaks your nipple again, coupled with a thrust against your sex. Even clothed the sensation is unlike any other.

You shuffle again, hands gripping his shoulders. A shudder runs along your spine, a mimic of the fingers sliding down your stomach, dipping below the waist of your jeans, your underwear.

He moans into your ear as they slide in between your folds, rubbing back and forth and creating a pleasant friction that clouds your mind. A panicked feeling floods your chest, and you grip his arm to stop him.

He leans back to look you in the eye, his own half lidded and clouded by lust. You swallow against the dryness in your throat. "I'm not so sure about this, Sydney... What would Brother Jordan think?"

You think you see a flash of anger in his eyes, but his finger sliding into you sends the thought flying from your mind like an airplane leaving its runway. Your nails dig in, body following instinct and rubbing against his arm. "Don't worry about him, my love. Keep your mind here, on how I make you feel."

You keen when he curves his fingers, finding a bundle of nerves you didn't even know you had. His request isn't so hard to follow; your attention can't drift away from the sensations. It's so different. You didn't even know you could feel this way.

He begins slowly, making sure his fingers glide against every inch of your walls. Your head is thrown back, mouth agape and breathing hard. You're desperately humping his fingers, trying to increase the friction, chasing a high you're not even aware is there to grasp.

Just as your body begins to tingle, to start that delicious climb toward the top, he pulls his fingers out of you. Your eyes shoot open, desperate, wild. "N-no! Don't... Don't stop, please." Breathless, you can't breathe. You need it back, need him to keep going.

Sydney's halted laugh brings you to the present, if only slightly. "Patience. This will feel ten times better than that did." You now realize that he's dropped his pants, and is rubbing his dick with your juices. Your thighs clench involuntarily at the sight.

He easily spreads them apart again, and arm hooking under your right knee and lifting. You let him, unsure of what you should be doing. Has Sydney done this before? How does he know what he's doing? You feel a bit sick to the stomach at the thought.

Again it becomes the last thing you worry about when you feel him press against you. It feels good at first, the way it rubs against your sex. You groan, rub back, inviting him in.

You tense when the head goes in. It's not that it feels bad, just... Unusual. You feel the familiar sting of anxiety threatening you again. "It's okay, just relax. I'll go slow, I promise." Helpless, way out of your league, you nod, attempt to release your muscles.

He pushes further in. You cry out, the feeling of being stretched shocking your core. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. "Sydney, I-I don't..." You're cut off by the feeling of his thumb pressing against your clit, a strangled whine filling the air around you.

"I've got you, I'm here with you. This is my first time too, sweet girl. Okay? We're in this together." Unable to form a coherent sentence, you nod. It does settle you though, allows Sydney to push himself in to the hilt.

You feel something pop, clench your eyes shut in an effort not to think about what that could mean.

Sydney tries to keep his word, tries to go as slow as possible to give you the chance to adjust. But, fuck, you feel so good squeezing around him, taking him like you were made for this. His grip on your leg tightens, his other hand gripping your hip and pulling you roughly onto his cock.

You cry out, hand pressing against his shoulder to signal that it's too much. He's gone to the lust, though, and sets a brutal pace. Your pained cry only adds to his excitement, makes him thrust into you harder.

The obscene sounds of skin hitting skin fills the room, accentuated by Sydney's moans and your bated breaths and sobs for him to, 'slow down, please Sydney!'

He pauses long enough to hook his arm under your other knee, lifting you off the ground to give him better access. The sensation as he picks his pace back up makes you groan in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

"You feel so fucking good, my love. So, fuck, so tight around me. Such a good, oh fuck, a good girl for me." The words please you, only further adding to your confusion. Is this how it's supposed to feel?

It doesn't take long before pain gives way completely to the pleasure and the tingling begins anew. You moan, hands tangling in his hair, a whispered, "Yes, right there, oh yes," said directly into his ear.

It's a relief that you cum at the same time he does; Sydney's not sure he would have been able to hold out much longer. You press your face into his shoulder, trying hard to muffle the noises ease pulse pulls out of you.

Your insides feel warm, and cum drips to the floor when Sydney finally pulls away. Your face burns red at the sight; that was really inside of you? Before Sydney lifts your chin, blue eyes gazing adoringly into yours. "I love you, you know that? Thank you for trusting me."

You glow, feeling unbelievably proud and leaning into the kiss he gives you. That wasn't so bad, after the original sting. The thought leaves you giggling and wondering when you can do that again.

[ooooo-mcyt]

For real though watching yhs has lead me to the conclusion that despite Grian seemingly has such an active fight instinct....most of the time he actually doesnt respond to situations with half the fight attributed to him.

When faced with a traumatic situation Grian will absolutely bare his teeth at the nearest threat. He's absolutely vitriolic towards Sam at all times without fail and has even initiated physical violence in their confrontations once or twice. He's often on edge, often quick to angry outbursts, just overall rather hostile when faced with a dangerous/frightening/harmful situation. Which definitely indicates his main response to these scenarios is to fight. Hard.

However the more I engaged with fanon the more I faltered. A lot of fanon does portray him as very hostile in the face of trouble. Which should make sense. Canonically Grian knows when to say no, when to argue, and even sometimes when to physically fight back. Any episode with Grian present will likely have examples of him pushing back against harmful situations. And yet something always feels very Off about that being the start and end of it in a lot of fanon. Which led me down an interesting line of thinking.

I honestly suspect that Grian's volatility and will to fight back isn't nearly as strong as one would believe from observing him on surface level. In fact, his on the surface hostility feels like it's borderline a facade altogether to be honest.

I mean look at examples throughout canon of Grian in distressing situations.

Yhs halloween episode. The one where Taurtis got stabbed. And the following situation where Grian is famously forced to dress up like Taurtis. Grian would later be very upset about Sam stabbing Taurtis, however his initial response was to nervously laugh and even give Sam appeasing praise. I mean, Grian says "you weren't supposed to stab him" pretty clearly, but he anxiously laughs before and afterwards and even tells Sam he's proud of him when prompted. Obviously Grian was very upset about the whole thing later on after taking Taurtis to the hospital however in the moment he's mostly silent and when he's not he's just nervously laughing throughout, even agreeing with whatever *Sam* says when he's outright prompted by name for an opinion, then when everyone else tries to play it off casually Grian actually goes along with it almost entirely, even agreeing to let Taurtis drive him home for some reason. Then, according to his own story, he had an opportunity to talk to police at the hospital and he didn't incriminate Sam. He knew they were supicious of *him* but he still didn't incriminate the actual killer. "I told them I found him like that" Grian alleged. Honestly it sounds like he didn't tell them much of *anything* before being released and making the walk back to meet Sam. The next morning Grian was significantly more vocally upset about Taurtis being stabbed and expressed being upset with Sam however he seemed significantly more anxious than he was angry throughout the interaction. Then Grian immediately pretty readily agreed to go with Sam and Yuki to school and willingly put on the Taurtis outfit before the other's even started with the threats in the name of making things 'less awkward'. He certainly objected, however he was once again a lot more anxious than angry, nervously laughing, coming up with really weak unimportant excuses, and agreeing within ten seconds of being asked. Pretty much the rest of his time dressed as Taurtis goes very similarly. He objects to most things he's told to do and brings up Sam stabbing Taurtis multiple times despite the other's not wanting him to but is primarily nervous rather than hostile and he never actuslly puts up enough resistence for it to stick. Even when the other's were stuffing plastic down his throat and he told them he thought it may kill him Grian still did it and told the other's he *liked* it when pushed. Eventually he got out of it by running on Rowan's command and no sooner than being told to get out of there. When Sam found him again Grian immediately even reverted back to doing as he was told and cowering away from him in obvious fear up until Okami and Rowan showed up and shoved Grian behind them. Then he *still went home that night* knowing Sam would be there. When they found Taurtis it was pretty clear that Grian was hoping Taurtis would help him once he got his memory back however when instructed to stop telling Taurtis who he was Grian for the most part did aside from subtle pushing about the familiarity of certain things and then later when Taurtis got his memory back and made it pretty clear he wasn't going to help Grian? Grian conceded. He spent a good few minutes arguing about everything he'd gone through- everything they both had- and insisting it wasn't okay but when Taurtis made it pretty clear he wasn't going to do anything and they collectively agreed Grian was the real problem? Grian kinda...stopped. When Taurtis made it clear he wasn't going to be helping, Grian just kinda fell back into their normal routine with the other's, and when Sam demanded an 'apology soda' from Grian for what he'd apparently done, Grian bought it for him saying "If that's what it takes for things to go back to normal".

Let's also look at Grian's involvement with the law during/shortly-after the Halloween situation. When Sam and Yuki dragged him to join the Yakuza he was upset and objected anxiously but caved as soon as he got pushback. When Sam wanted to steak from the Yakuza he once again got objections from Grian who nervously insisted that it was a terrible idea but once again Sam shoved aside Grian's complaints and once again Grian just kinda fell into place despite being upset. When the police also started threatening the trio's lives to work for them, Grian objected. He questioned if they were allowed to do that and was very openly not happy about any of it, however he very quickly submitted under pressure. Both times Grian was locked in solitary confinement he loudly protested his sanity and both times he voiced how disturbing it was on a really deep level being locked up like that but both times when he was let out he just went with the other two again and let them brush it all off- even knowing full well they let him out to be *death fodder*. He just went with them relatively quietly save for maybe a token remark or two. Honestly the large majority of this bs Grian was involved with was under physical threat and he almost always bent under it. Even down to his fight with Pie over Ellen. Pie showed up and started challenging their relationship. Sam, Taurtis, and Yuki insisted they have a knife fight. Grian said *no*. Pie said yes. Sam, Taurtis, and Yuki affirmed there would be a knife fight. Grian objects more. Everyone else present discusses how the knife fight will work. Grian gets stabbed. Grian suggests they just ask Ellen who they want to date *obviously*. Ellen chooses nobody and leaves. Grian was upset but then just kinda accepts it and goes on with what the whole group was doing before.

And just to round this out with one more example. The Starwars Cosplay Incident. Apparently Sam burst into Grian's room, undressed him, shoved him into Leia Cosplay complete with fake boobs, and locked him in the basement for three days. Grian sits there for three days until Taurtis rescues him.  Grian has a moment of being rightfully very angry and finally even tries to physically attack Sam, demanding to know if Taurtis is aware of what Sam did to him and insisting that they can't expect everything to be fine now. Except it kinda...was. Taurtis stopped Grian from attacking Sam, they both brushed it off as a joke and not a big deal, and then they went to school. And Grian just *went*. He walked with the other two, he wore the outfit Sam put him in, and he just kinda moved on. Grian would later object when the clones tried to pull him out of class, snapping that he just wants to learn and get an education like a normal person and demanding to know why he's not allowed to. But he goes! And when he's released he walks right back to Sam and Taurtis, makes some bitter remarks to them, and let's them shove it all aside as if it's unimportant. Later when it's Grian, Sam, and a member of school staff alone in the closet, some innapropriate remarks are made to Grian. He very quickly says he's reporting the remarks made by school staff but Sam tells him not to be rude and it doesn't seem Grian ever does. Later on when Geode makes a comment about Grian's outfit as well Sam and Taurtis start pondering *giving* Grian to them. Grian repeatedly said *no* but with a lot more despair than defiance and we don't even know if he'd have actually followed through with fighting back if they'd tried to actually give him away because they were interrupted before the situation got to that point. Grian once again just let the other's move on as if that didn't happen and continued following them around, though! And he wore that damn outfit he was very explicitly uncomfortable with. All day.

Which is kinda all to say that when it comes to fighting back Grian is a lot more bark than bite.

Grian throws out a lot of bitter remarks, makes his objections very apparent in most things, and even has more than one vitriolic rant to his abuser(s) throughout the series. But that layer of his responses to things is so fragile that it tends to fall away within minutes- if that, sometimes *seconds*.

Of course ive seen other people take note of this and argue that it means Grian actually *wants* to do these thingd he's objecting to but I think that's silly. If it were just things like group crime or violent acts then id possibly see it but Grian puts up the same kind of response to having plastic shoved down his throat and to being locked in the basement for days which there's no way in hell he was any kind of okay with. The more likely scenario here isn't that he secretly wanted to do any of these things and made his resistence weak so he could pretend he tried while still doing it.

The likely scenario here is that his fight response is much more for show than one would think. Because Grian's strongest most influential response to things really never seems to be to fight. Aggression is really hardly Grian's overall stance on handling a distressing situation.

Much more frequently you see the most influence coming from completely other instinctive responses.

Looking for outside help in adults, friends, and classmates like when Okami and Rowan protected him during his time dressed as Taurtis or when Grian tried desperately to get Taurtis to be on his side and help him after Sam seriously hurt him both when Taurtis first got his memory back after Halloween and when Taurtis found Grian in the basement during the Starwars Cosplay Incident, hell, even during his fight with Pie it can be argued that Grian calling for them to just ask Ellen was an appeal to outside help as he hoped Ellen would agree to end the fight and save him from the situation as a result.

Running away- or trying to at least- from the threat. Most notably seen back during the halloween incident when he quite literally ran out the back of the gym and hid from Sam+Yuki then hiding behind Okami and Rowan when they showed up in an attempt to flee from Sam which is how he got away from the other's at all during that situation. Grian's consistent need to exclaim every so often how much he wants to go back to Europe is a subtler example of this, though, of Grian's urge to get away.

Honestly though being quiet and moving as he's directed seems to be the most common winning response. You see little sparks of reaction from him but most of the time Grian is just quiet, nervously laughing, following Taurtis and Sam around in what they ask of him, and even outright appeasement strategies to maintain a calm environment. This is So common from Grian. This is what usually wins out. His quiet nervous laughter and agreeing with Sam when Taurtis is first stabbed. The fact that he didn't tell the police what Sam did when alone with them during questioning and then immediately walked to meet up with Sam and went to school with Sam+Yuki with literally no objections. The fact that he didn't say no like *at all* to putting on the Taurtis outfit in the name of not making things awkward and complied within seconds of first being asked. How he proceeded to do what he was asked all day and didn't make any move to get away until Rowan outright instructed him to run. The fact that he went back! The fact that he went along with it when they joined the Yakuza and when they stole from the Yakuza and when they joined up with the cops and when they *forced him into a knife fight*. How Grian eventually just lost his spark of defiance after Taurtis first got his memories back and made it clear he wasn't helping Grian, with Grian agreeing to buy Sam a fucking *apology soda* if it meant things would go back to normal after hearing everyone else agree that *he* was the problem in all he'd been put through. The way he just goes back to following Sam and Taurtis after they got him locked in solitary confinement on blatant lies because they *wanted* to. The way he walks around school with the other two while wearing cosplay that made him feel gross and uncomfortable that Sam had literally physically forced onto him and just went along with what he was told in the end.

Grian always puts up a fight but not a good one. He makes side comments, he makes objections, he even has more than one emotional rant about the hell he's put through, however this never wins out in the end and this presenting fight is very frequently just barely holding down much stronger freeze and fawn instincts that usually win out pretty damn quick.

Which!!! In a situation like Grian's it actually makes significantly more sense to have strong freeze and fawn responses than to have a strong fight response! I mean, think about it. A fight response is primarily useful in scenarios in which it's possible to take strong action to remove the threat. You're attacked by a dog so you throw stuff at it till it backs away. You're picked on by an upperclassman so you punch em' in the nose expecting fully that they'll leave you be after. Someone attacks you while you're walking home so you try and stab them with your key. Fighting is an incredibly good response for random/one time attacks. If you're ever kidnapped you wanna scream and punch and kick and make a scene so they can't take you to a secondary location. You fight. Fighting is optimal for unexpected stranger conflicts. That's not the situation Grian's in though. Grian suffers from serious long term physical, emotional, and financial abuse. He's in a country he doesn't have residency or family in, he doesn't have a readily available source of income, he doesn't have his own mode of transportation, it seems that most of the time he doesnt have a clear way home, he's often dealing with long term friends of his and seemingly his biggest source of support prior to this situation, even back in Europe he doesn't have much support system to run to given his parents canonically left him, he's frequently under threat of physical danger, etc. This is not the kind of situation in which an intense primary fight response helps. This is the type of situation in which an intense primary fight response either gets you seriously hurt or wandering the streets with no way to provide for yourself. It would likely be similar if he presented an intense primary flight response to be honest. In long term abuse situations where there's no rational way of escaping safely or no rational place to escape to? Often the primary responses that promote survival are fawn and freeze. Appeasing the aggressor or sinking into the background. Those are your ways to stay alive when you can't expect to 'win' or escape. It absolutely makes more sense for Grian to have primary fawn and freeze responses than a primary fight response.

But then why does he present so much hostility? What's with all the bitter remarks and the attempts to voice objections and the occasional overt insults/screaming? How does a fawn/freeze response present as fight when first pressed at?? Well fun fact, I have experience with that kind of presentation because I *was* that kind of presentation. Oh boy did I try to push strong fight responses towards my abusive father with token resistences and petty remarks even though most of the time I crumpled under the slightest pressure and spent my time ignoring the problem or dissociating or trying very hard to avoid future conflicts. You put up a token front of fight even if that's never going to be your primary response for the sake of your own mental health, really. To assure the world- and *you*- knows that you don't *want* this situation. So you can say you tried. Out of some misguided hope that your attempted bravado won't be seen through and that maybe this time they'll just stop pushing instead of calling the bluff. Which. Makes sense with Grian as well. I mean looking at the times he really truly goes off before reverting back to a more appeasing stance, most notably his rants from when Taurtis first got his memory back as well as from when he got out of the basement during the Starwars Cosplay Incident. Most of those rants were taken up by Grian loudly and passionately reiterating what he'd been through, insisting he was the victim, and calling Sam an awful person before the defiance fades out and he becomes more willing to just go about their day. It's one attempted push hoping the other parties present will vie in his favour and a reassertion that he's not okay with this and that *he* is being hurt which gives way within minutes to a much duller attitude. That's just a painfully familiar format. Adding on Grian's token objections/passive aggressive remarks to many situations that distress him and how quickly those objections give way as dismissed by others. That kind of behaviour feels strongly like an attempt to preserve your own mental wellbeing as much as possible with the knowledge that you tried to some extent and with just generally hearing out loud that you are the victim even if from yourself. Grian's behaviour just really feels like a facade of defiance to cover up general helplessness which makes a Lot of sense for the scenario. Probably more than just plain defiance would.

[mickey-henry]

𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: bucky’s been flirting with you, but hasn’t taken it further than that. frustrated, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: occasional swearing (but not much) and frustrating flirting (I’d be melting if it was happening to me). besides that, this fic is pure fluffy fun.

author’s note: hello there! this is my second fic; I’m very excited to post it! I found the header image here, and if you want to listen to the song I reference in this fic, you can listen here. bold text indicates singing, while italicized text refers to inner thoughts. likes, reblogs, messages, replies, and comments are cherished! I hope you like it! 💖

Bucky Barnes is an acquaintance at best. The two of you rarely work together, and with conflicting schedules, you see little of each other around the compound. On a random Friday in April, however, something changes in you. The moment is nothing out of the ordinary. You’re sitting on the couch in the main living space, re-reading one of your favorite books. Bucky has just returned from a mission; you glance up to see his exhausted expression. He catches your eye, winking with a smile, before walking to his room. Your heart flutters and your head freezes at the response. “Oh, no,” you think to yourself. “Maybe that was a one-time thing? I don’t actually like him, right?” Wrong. 

Ever since that night, the mere presence of Bucky Barnes drives you crazy: his stunning blue eyes that squint ever so slightly when he smiles, his adorable nose that crinkles when he laughs, his pillowy lips that you lose yourself in, his  fluffy hair you can’t help but imagine running your fingers through, his scruff speckled jawline that you wish would brush along your hands, cheeks, anywhere really. He occupies your dreams; you can’t escape this man even if you try. Today, he drives you crazier than usual. He stands in the compound's kitchen in a tight black t-shirt, one that leaves nothing to the imagination. This is the first time you’ve seen him in short sleeves, in anything other than tactical gear. You can’t help but stare as he prepares his lunch. The shirt hugs his frame tight, accentuating his biceps that had no right to be that big. “Gosh, he must spend hours in the gym to look like that.” You then notice the vein in his right arm protruding from his skin, tracing it with your eyes. You didn’t think he could become any more beautiful, but here he is before you, incredible as ever. 

You’re pulled from your reverie when Bucky calls your name. “Yeah?” you reply, barely masking the startled stutter in your voice.

“Pass me the salt?”

“Oh! Sure, of course,” you muster, taking a sip of water from the glass in front of you as you hand him the salt shaker. 

“Thanks, doll,” he flirts with a smile, the same one he gave you that night when he got back to the compound. You nearly choke. “Bucky Barnes called me a term of endearment?!? Holy shit.” Your heart swells and you look down at your glass in a desperate attempt to hide the blush creeping its way across your cheeks. “Goodness gracious, I respond this way from a simple word?” You couldn’t imagine how you’d feel if he touched you. 

It didn’t take long to find out. The following day, you stand in the kitchen prepping your lunch, singing softly along to the song playing from your phone. Bucky appears soon after. He stands close to you for a moment, closer than necessary, but of course you don’t mind. He has just showered; his cologne lingers in the air, intoxicating you. Somehow, you keep singing along, showing no sign that your mind is elsewhere. 

“Ugh, he smells amazing. This man has too much power over me; this is ridiculous! I don’t even remember what I was doing—”

“You have a beautiful voice,” he compliments.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you softly reply, your heart racing at his praise.

“Let me get by you real fast, doll,” he says, moving to walk behind you. 

“There he goes again with the pet name. My god, could this get any worse—” 

He places his hands gently on your hips as he moves beside you. Electricity travels through your whole body; you’re internally screaming at his touch. His hands feel better than you imagined. Even though the contact lasts only a moment, the effects of his touch linger after, leaving you speechless. 

You hear a musical chuckle from the man behind you. “Is he teasing me? It sure feels like it,” you wonder. There is no way that he can’t see the effect he has on you. Before you can even formulate another thought, he touches you again as he moves back to the other side of you. “That was definitely on purpose; certainly he wouldn’t do this by accident. Right?”

Your eyes linger as he finishes putting together his lunch. He catches your gaze and smiles. “See you later, sweetheart,” he says with a wink before leaving the room. “Okay, that answers my question; that was very intentional. What am I going to do with myself?”

You don’t know how much longer you can take his teasing. Throughout the week, he ups his antics, calling you pet names more than your own, stealing touches whenever he can get away with it, smiling whenever you make eye contact. The tension is insatiable; thoughts of Bucky follow you everywhere. You decide to take matters in your own hands; Bucky did not seem to be planning to make a move anytime soon. If he is going to tease the hell out of you, you might as well get some payback. 

───────────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ─────────────

Tony’s announcement of Friday night karaoke gives you a wicked idea. However, for it to work, you need to recruit help. You know just who to ask. It doesn’t take long to find Sam and Steve; they spent a ton of their free time sparring in the gym. They seem to be at the end of their workout, their movements slow and sloppy, relying on witty retorts to throw off the other. They stop when they notice your arrival. 

“Hey!” Sam says with a smile, hugging you as you approach. You squeeze him tightly, even with his sticky sweat coating his arms. You greet Steve with a hug too.

“What brings you to our neck of the woods?” Steve asks as you let go.

“Can I ask you guys something? And you promise you two won’t laugh at me? Especially if I'm reading this wrong?”

“Of course,” answers Steve. 

“Yeah, for sure,” replies Sam. 

You hesitate for a second, taking a deep breath. “Does Bucky like me? I swear he does. He keeps teasing me, and I don’t know how much longer I can take it. I think I am practically in love with the guy at this point, he’s so beautiful and—”

You stop as the boys exchange glances and begin laughing. 

You cross your arms, hurt. “You said you wouldn’t laugh at me! I can’t control how I feel.”

“No! Wait! We aren’t laughing at you!” Steve says between giggles. 

You furrow your brows. “Then why are you laughing?”

“Bucky’s obsessed with you,” Steve answers after calming his laughter. 

“God, yes, you’re all he talks about nowadays,” Sam adds. 

“What?! He does? Why? Are you shitting me right now? Because that would be really freaking mean—“

“No! Of course not,” Steve insists. “Don’t you see the way he looks at you?”

“And the pet names he gives you?” Sam adds.

“And how he can’t seem to keep his hands to himself lately?” Steve finishes. 

Now you feel stupid for even asking. Of course you noticed all of those things. They were all you ever thought about. “Well, yeah, but maybe he does that with all the girls.”

“What girls?” Sam retorted. “The only women who are here often enough to cross paths with him are you, Natasha, and Wanda. Wanda’s with Vision, as weird as that is, but love is love. Natasha shoots daggers at anyone who looks at her with love in their eyes. That leaves you.”

“Why in the world would he like me? Of all people? He’s out of my league,” you sigh,

Sam’s scoff pulls you from your thoughts. “Bucky? Out of your league? He’s a crazy ex-assassin with emotional issues! If anything, he's out of your league.”

“You’re a catch, why wouldn’t he like you?” Steve assures.

Steve and Sam always know just what to say to make you feel better. “I guess you’re right,” you admit with a defeated grin. 

“So, you know how Bucky feels. What are you going to do about it?” Steve asks. 

“I have an idea, but I need your help.”

“We’re listening.”

You divulge your plan to them. They smile, hyping you up. 

“Dude, I’m so down!” Sam exclaims, clapping his hands in excitement. 

“You think this will work?”

“Definitely,” Steve assures. “This is going to be amazing!”

“Okay then, we’re doing this. Let’s go find Bucky. Time to initiate phase one.”

───────────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ─────────────

Bucky is sitting on the common room couch, flipping through a book when he sees you, Sam, and Steve enter. He exchanges a glance with you, smiling as your eyes light up. The three of you sit down. You’re sitting next to Sam, closer than usual. There’s a brief moment of silence before you speak. “Sam, are you going to karaoke night?”

“Of course! Wouldn’t miss everyone’s drunk-ass singing for the world.”

“Will you be my duet partner?”

This catches Bucky’s attention. He looks up from his book. Why the hell were you asking Sam to sing with you? You normally ask the girls...

“Sure thing, baby. It’ll be a ton of fun!” Sam smiles. 

Baby?! What?! How dare he call you a pet name, his girl, right in front of him? Well, you may not be his girl yet, but Sam knows how he feels about you. What the hell is he thinking?

“Yay! This’ll be so fun!” You hug him, grabbing his hand before continuing, “Wanna practice with me in a bit?”

“Find me when you’re ready, sweetheart,” Sam answers, kissing your knuckle before letting go of your hand. 

Sweetheart?! What the fuck was going on? Did he miss his shot? Would Sam really do that to him? Bucky can barely handle his swirling thoughts. He storms out of the room without looking back. 

Steve can’t help but laugh once Bucky is out of earshot. “That worked a little too well, wouldn’t you say so?”

“That wasn’t too far, was it?” you ask with a worried expression on your face. 

“Nah, don’t worry about it. He’ll just come on even stronger now. He won’t give up on you that easily,” Sam assures you. 

───────────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ─────────────

Bucky can barely contain his anger as you step on the stage with Sam, giggling and smiling at your karaoke partner. Jealousy engulfs him. He can barely listen to the start of the song, ignoring the catchy beat blasting through the speakers. He doesn’t recognize the song, but looks up from his drink when you sing, “Hey Bucky boy, what you doing tonight? I wanna see what you got in store."

He looks right at you. Did she just say Bucky?

Sam echoes, “Hey, hey Bucky!” Well, that answers his question.

“You're giving it your all when you're dancing on me. I want to see if you can give me some more,” you continue, twirling your fingers through your hair.

“Hey, hey Bucky!”

“You can be my man, I can be your girl, and we can pump this jam however you want,” you sing, swaying your hips to the cadence of the lyrics.

“Hey, hey Bucky!”

“Pump it from the side, pump it upside down, or we can pump it from the back and the front,” you wink as you finish the line. Bucky sits up suddenly, crossing his legs, his face turning beet red. You smile, knowing the plan was working. Steve laughs from beside him. He keeps his eyes glued on you as the two of you continue the song, utterly entranced. You look him right in the eye as you end the song, “I want you tonight.”

You saunter over to where he is sitting after high-fiving Sam, confidence filling your chest. “So, what did you think of my performance, Bucky?”

You yelp as he grabs your hips and pulls you down to sit on his lap. His voice deepens, “you’re such a tease, you know that right?”

You laugh. “I’m the tease? Really? You’re the one who just pulled me onto your lap and taunts me with flirtatious remarks and smiles all freaking day. My god Bucky, make a move already—”

He cuts you off, pulling you in for a kiss, his flesh arm grabbing the back of your neck. The team whoops and cheers. 

“Glad you finally made a move, Bucky,” you pant as your lips part from his.

“Best decision I ever made in my life, doll.” Before you can respond, he kisses you again, the karaoke bar fading in the background as you finally embrace the man of your dreams.

[cutemeat]

do u think dennis killed maureen?

No, I do not! I think Charlie is responsible for the death of Maureen (I will explain further in a minute) and that Dennis was trying to help him cover it up! I will explain my thoughts here using the eps Making Dennis Reynolds a Murderer and a bit of Paddy’s Has a Jumper as my points of reference. :)

So… I’ll start by laying out the course of events I think took place that night and using some of the details in those episodes mentioned to try n support my argument!

Sometime around 10 PM on October 21st, 2016

Maureen comes into the bar to collect her alimony check for the month. Dennis makes a big show of getting her with the spray bottle… Charlie was there.

Now we know that at the time Charlie was watching a lot of wrestling. We know this because the investigation started pretty immediately after that initial first report of Maureen’s death on the night of October 22nd, 2016 at around 12 AM.

What I believe happened is that Dennis was complaining about Maureen to himself (and/or to Charlie, who was likely heavily intoxicated by this point) and may have even made a comment about wishing she were dead so she’d stop taking all his money with these alimony payments.

I think Charlie, who is again intoxicated and has been obsessed with watching wrestling lately, takes it upon himself to ‘help out’ his best friend in need. He probably left the bar without really saying anything and Dennis didn’t think much of it.

Then, I think Dennis most likely gets a phone call from Charlie asking him to come down to wherever he is. Dennis, again, doesn’t have much concern and assumes Charlie is just kind of out of it but Dennis has to close up anyway so he just locks up and goes to meet Charlie where he asked Dennis to meet him.

But, when Dennis gets there he sees Maureen’s body lying facedown on the ground— mangled and very clearly not moving or breathing. This is the point where Dennis probably starts freaking out and asking Charlie what the fuck happened.

My guess is that Charlie followed Maureen up to that rooftop, does what he tells Detective Girard and “goes up behind her and puts her in a chokehold” and threatens her and tries to “give her a pile-driver” but all this results in is (because, again, incredibly intoxicated and uncoordinated) Maureen stumbling to the edge of the roof and falling off… to her death.

Because Charlie is so out of it, he probably is not fully grasping the severity of this situation and what he’s just done— which likely only adds to Dennis’ mounting stress.

So I believe (based on the fact that we know Dennis a. Is good at doing voices/impressions and b. At the very least has a voice modulator that can be attached to any payphone he hits up) Dennis does a similar thing to what the gang does at the end of “Frank’s Pretty Woman” where he calls in an “anonymous” tip to the police about Maureen’s dead body (I think this is Dennis because of the similar pattern in speech to the whole Clown Baby conversation from “Hundred Dollar Baby” when the “caller” says ‘It’s not a cat! It’s a woman, but also a cat. It’s a cat woman!’ Which yes could just be a callback but it could also be an indicator that this was actually Dennis who made this “anonymous call” cuz that would serve both the narrative and work as a clever callback) and from there flees the scene with Charlie and gets to work on crafting an alibi for the both of them.

This, to me, would explain perfectly why Dennis is so frustrated with Charlie in those phone calls he makes trying to make sure Charlie has their story straight. Dennis knows this is not a situation Charlie can just get out of by claiming he was drunk and it was an accident (take in “The Gang Gives Back” where Charlie, still in denial about his alcoholism as ever, believes if he told the judge he was drunk that the judge would ‘let him off the hook’ for burning down a building)…

So Dennis did totally want the police to be given ‘unreliable answers’ by Charlie… He totally planted those items in his safe… Dennis very much crafted a narrative, not to only make himself seem innocent but to make Charlie seem innocent and most of all like he was not even heavily involved that night at all. Dennis is already very good at doing this kind of thing so that’s what I believe was the real situation behind what happened that night!

TL;DR I think Charlie was responsible for Maureen’s death and I think Dennis is trying to cover his ass but most of all— covering for Charlie!

[utakoi]

Suds

Pairing: Soft Yandere!Enji Todoroki x GN!Reader 

Summary: A reformed Enji gives you a bath and contemplates your relationship with him.

Warnings: Yandere themes (abduction + mention of lewd thoughts + bindings [it’s rlly soft stuff tho])

A/N: never thought I’d write for Endeavor, but felt like this kind of concept fit his character the most after his redemption arc and uh... Idk kinda soft and horny for him whoops. Also I started a new aesthetic for my fic headers to separate them from my hcs, but idk if I like it yet

“Is the water too hot?”

You say nothing back to Enji as you kneel next to the tub, dipping your fingertips into the water. After a few moments of inspection, you rise from your spot and give Enji a pointed look over your shoulder. Knowing what the look means, Enji turns his back towards you and crosses his arms. 

For the past couple days, you’ve been trying out a new tactic of defiance: the silent treatment. 

Silence in his home isn’t new to Enji. Rei had been a quiet wife for most of their marriage, only conversing with him if he spoke to her first or if it was in regards to their kids. After Rei’s hospitalization and Touya’s death, his life had practically become silent, save for the times his remaining sons would jeer at him and the small talk his daughter would initiate. 

But he’s not used to silence with you. The first few weeks after he abducted you were anything but silent. Begging him to let you go, screaming that he’s an asshole, shattering fine china when you threw the dishes at his face and missed… and most recently, breaking the bathroom mirror during your scheduled bath time. He had come rushing in, only to be caught off guard when you swung a shard towards his chest the second he burst through the door. Luckily, his instincts as a hero allowed him to react quickly enough to swerve to the side. After the incident, he told you that he would have to monitor your baths from that point forward. You spat at his feet in response. 

To be honest, Enji thinks you should be more grateful that he didn’t punish you more severely for attempting to kill him and for your other past acts of rebellion. He could have easily done whatever he had wanted to you. For a second, images of your wrists tightly bound by rope and your quivering lips forced apart by a dirty rag flashes through Enji’s mind. He shakes his head. 

No, he’s a new man now… sort of. He’s trying his best to please you, at least, as much as he can as your captor. Sure, he’s forced a few cuddles here and there, but he had never forced himself on you sexually. Even when you were stripped bare to bathe, he hadn’t made a single move.

… Ok, he’s not completely innocent; he’s had lewd thoughts, but he never acted on them. 

The sound of your robe falling to the floor brings Enji back to the present and he waits until he hears a splash to turn back around. Once he does, the sight that greets him makes him crack a smile. 

The tub is ridiculously full of bubbles, the cloud-like mass practically engulfing your form. If any more of the soapy solution were to be added, he’s sure that he’d only be able to see the top of your head peeking out from the suds. To top it all off, you’re pouting like a child, clearly not wanting to give him the gratification of seeing you enjoy the perfect bath he prepared for you. 

“I know that you’ve been wary of your modesty, so I made sure the bath had more bubbles today,” he says as he sits cross-legged by the tub. “Though I suppose that I went a bit overboard with them.”

He eyes your face for any type of reaction. You say nothing back to him, but he catches your eyes soften. 

Enji’s not exactly sure why they do. Are you finally warming up to him? Or perhaps you're just grateful that he had gone through the efforts to make sure your intimate parts were concealed while he washed you? It’s most likely the latter, but he can’t help but let the hope of the former possibility sweep through him. 

“Which shampoo and conditioner would you like to use today?” Enji asks. You take a while to eye the several bottles in the shower caddy before indicating your choice by pointing at them. Enji makes a mental note of the brands as he squirts the shampoo into his calloused hands. 

As per routine, you shift yourself against the tub so that the back of your head is facing Enji. Gently, he lathers your hair. To be honest, he could probably trust you with bathing yourself; it’s not like you could do much damage by swinging some shampoo and froth at him. He could have just stood by the side and watched, making sure that you wouldn’t do anything like before. 

Still, he can’t help but just want to spend some peaceful quality time with you. Anytime you’re in the same room as him, your shoulders are always squared, as if you’re prepared for an attack at any moment. The few times he’d gone in for a hug after an exhausting day of hero work, you struggled and told him to fuck off. Your bath times are the only moments where you allowed yourself to relax. 

Actually, the first bath time after he announced your punishment was completely opposite to now. You had screeched and clawed at him when he tried to touch your hair; Enji still had a light scar on his forearm from where you managed to scratch him. 

Now… Well, he could only guess that you gave up on rebelling, at least, during your baths. Enji felt warmth pool in his chest at the thought. He had put in a lot of effort in trying to make the baths as nice as possible so that you could ease into the practice easier. The idea that he had succeeded in making you happy made his pride skyrocket. 

He takes his time scrubbing your arms and legs, savoring the feeling of your skin against his. You’re obviously aware of his actions, but seem to let them slide, only giving him warning glares when his hands would get too close to your torso. He turns his back towards you again once he’s done with your limbs, leaving you to clean your most intimate parts and wash off the foam. 

When you give him a tap on his shoulder to signal that you’ve put the robe back on, he sits on the lid of the toilet and lightly holds onto your waist to pull you onto his lap. Once you’re situated, he takes a brush and combs through your damp hair. While he could trust you in washing yourself, he could never trust you with combing your own hair; the brush was what you used to break the mirror. 

“Enji?”

He stops brushing your hair for a moment, surprised that you had broken your silent treatment. He hadn’t even realized that you had called him by his given name for the first time rather than his hero name until after you leaned your head back to lay on his chest. 

He clears his throat before responding with a shaky, “What is it?”

“Will I ever be able to bathe alone again?” You tilt your head backwards to meet his downward gaze. 

He resists himself from frowning at your question. If he let you bathe alone, he wouldn’t have moments like these anymore. He’d be back to experiencing your anger and malice 24/7 again.  

“... If you behave for a while longer, then I’ll consider it.” He hopes that, while it’s not a straight yes or no answer, it’ll suffice.

To his relief, you merely let out a hum in response and lean forward again. Enji goes back to brushing your hair, trying his best to be gentle when combing out the knots. 

For a while longer, he lets himself enjoy the serenity of the moment, pretending as if this wasn’t a punishment. 

He was just taking care of the love of his life and you were simply enjoying being pampered by your loving husband.

[h4nabi-archived]

Pity Party

a/n: This was a request from @lexy586​. I’m sooo sorry its late and for accidentally deleting the ask. But from what i remember, the sender wanted a fic about the reader being in either the baku or deku squad and the start to forget about them and then their birthday shows up. I changed it a little but not much so i hope you like it :))

∾ Bakusquad x Reader (platonic), Izuku Midoriya x Reader (platonic)

∾ little angst, fluff

∾ warnings: none

∾ 1497 words

8:30 PM

That's the time you had told everyone to show up to your dorm for your birthday.

But instead, you were lying face down on your bed in an empty room.

No one had shown up.

You didn't know why it got like this. One day, you were hanging out with the "bakusquad" and the next, you were just a thing of the past: no texts, no get-togethers, nothing. You were left all alone.

This wasn't something you weren't used to, though. If anything, by this point, it shouldn't even be a surprise to you.

Friend group after friend group, you were always left behind. Sometimes they'd have the decency to tell you straight up that you just "didn't fit in." But most of the time, it was a gradual process. and this was no different.

You could tell that everyone slowly forgot about you. It all started about a month ago when everyone was talking about a new movie they had seen. This was new news to you. Usually, Kaminari or Sero would text the group chat about any popular new film they wanted to see. But not this time.

"Oh, sorry, Y/N. I just assumed you would be busy that day. Next time I'll ask, promise," Sero said with a genuine smile.

At the time, it didn't particularly bother you. Hero training and all had been keeping you busy lately, so the mixup was excusable.

But these "mixups" became more frequent. "schedule conflicts" also became common when you tried to invite anyone out. Whether it was studying for a test or a sudden case of the cold, everyone seemed to have something better to be doing than hanging out with you.

You started to feel isolated at lunch, as well. Eventually, you had to move to Midoryia's table because it was all getting to be too much. No one batted an eye when you left. No one texted you to see if you were okay—nothing but radio silence.

It hurt being alone again. It hurt worse, knowing that you actually thought this time would be different at one point. After you had transferred to UA your second year, you didn't expect to be welcomed with open arms. But to your surprise, you were.

Kirishima had been the first to reach out to you. He was friendly, going out of his way to even ask if you wanted to sit with him and his friends at lunch. That's when you met everyone else. You instantly clicked with everyone. It took some time for Bakugou to warm up to the new addition, but indeed everyone seemed to enjoy your company.

You were invited everywhere with them: study dates, sneaky late night outings, movie marathons, everything. It felt good having such a close friend group, and you truly felt like it could work out.

Looking back, you could tell that you didn't really belong. The five of them had an already established bond, and you just couldn't compete. You stuck out like a sore thumb. Everyone else was so much cooler and stronger than you, advancing with their quirks and overall popularity, while you were always left in the dust.

Maybe you were naive, missing all the signs that screamed that you didn't belong. Or perhaps you did see them but decided to ignore them. Who knows.

Going to the messenger app on your phone, you immediately went to your shared group chat. You knew you would see a response from anyone, but still, a small part of you had hope. But that hope was crushed when you looked and saw nothing—just the dozen other messages you had sent with no response.

you looked at the time on your phone. 12:45 AM, the numbers seemed to mock you as you stared down at them. Your vision became blurry as you threw your phone down on the floor. Then a tear fell. Then another. and another. all until you were sobbing in your pillow.

You cried and cried until you couldn't anymore. You started to get a migraine from all the crying. You felt crazy. It was your birthday. You were supposed to be happy—another year of life. And yet here you were in your dark dorm room, with tears staining your face. You felt pitiful.

You closed your eyes, trying to force yourself to sleep. And just as you were about to, a text notification sounded.

You didn't want to look. You wanted just to sleep and get this day over with. But soon enough, you were reaching to grab your phone off the floor.

You unlocked your phone and looked at the text.

From: Deku

Hey!

From: Deku

Happy Birthday Y/N!!!

You wiped your eyes and smiled at the texts.

You and Midoriya had grown closer since you moved to his table. You guys were the closest friends, but it was nice having at least one person still by your side.

From: You

thanks Midoriya :)))

Just as you were about to lock your phone, the texting indicator popped up on your screen. You waited for a response when suddenly the indicator disappeared. It didn't show up again, so with a huff, you locked your phone and threw it back on the floor.

You were alone again. You weren't sad anymore, which was good, but you were left with a sinking feeling in your heart in return. You turned on your side and faced the wall. You tried to make yourself comfortable so you could fall back asleep, but nothing seemed to work. The sleepy feeling has been whisked away, and now you were left staring at your blank wall.

You sighed and got out of your bed. Quickly slipping on a random hoodie and your slippers, you quietly made your way out of your room. Maybe a late-night snack was what you needed.

As you arrived at your destination, something made you stop in your tracks.

At one of the many dining tables sat Midoriya. His back was facing you so you couldn't see his face, but his slouched posture made him look tired. It made sense seeing as it was currently 1 AM. Next to him was a small slice of cake. Just looking at the desert made your eyes sting. Quickly you focused back on the boy and made your way over to him.

“Hey,” you said as you sat in the seat beside him. Izuku, stunned by your sudden appearance, jumped and almost fell out of his chair. After making sure he was alright, a small giggle escaped your lips.

"H-hey Y/N. What are you doing here?" He looked like he had seen a ghost by how shocked he was. His hands quickly grabbed the cake and moved it in an attempt to hide it.

The whole scene was very suspicious. Raising an eyebrow, you looked from the cake up to the freckled boy. from where he sat, the moonlight shone on him almost entirely. You could see the deep red blush that fused his cheeks and the way his eyes looked everywhere but you. It was cute if you were being honest.

“I should be asking you the same question,” you moved to point at the cake, “What’s that?”

"This? Oh, um, nothing. Just late-night cravings."

“Cravings? Really?”

"Yes." He was obviously lying. It was painted right on his face. Sensing your disbelief, Midoriya looked down and pushed the treat in front of you. He looked down at his lap and spilled the beans. "Actually, it's for you. You know, for your birthday."

You looked at the slice. It was a plain vanilla cake with white frosting. Your age in pretty, pink frosting was the only decoration. Even in its simplicity, the cake looked delicious. Your eyes started to sting, and before you knew it, you were crying again.

Midoriya immediately looked up when he heard you sniffle. What he didn't expect to see was the wide grin on your face. You reached over and pulled the boy into a tight hug, knocking the wind out of his lungs in the process. His arms made their way around you and gave you a small part in your back.

pulling away, you turned and looked at the cake again. "Thank you, Midoriya. I'm really thankful."

"It's the least I can do. We are friends, after all."

You guys were friends. Midoriya had always been nice to you. Checking on you when you first moved to his table suddenly, helping you with homework you’d usually ask bakugou to help you with, making you feel included in his group, and the list goes on and on. You weren’t alone. You had friends who cared.

Midoriya pulled out two plastic forks and handed it on to you. After you two said your thanks, you dig into the cake.

It might not have been what you initially planned, but you wouldn't have chosen to spend your birthday any other way than this.

[guardianspirits13]

I wanna talk about Natsuo Todoroki for a second here.

tw// mentions of abuse, self harm, and suicide

Natsuo visibly has the most emotional trauma out of anyone else in his family (Touya not included), and I really wanna talk about why that is.

For starters, we haven't seen him really smile since he was introduced in chapter 187. He's introduced as having a friendly, easygoing persona and it's easy to imagine this is how most people outside of his family know him. However, every time we see him appear since then, another layer of his trauma is revealed and expanded upon, and it cuts DEEP.

I think the main reason that Natsuo still seems so vulnerable compared to the rest of his family is different than what you'd assume. Fuyumi and Shouto both spend a lot of time around Endeavor, and have been in close proximity to his (relatively recent) decision to atone. They have seen his growth firsthand and come to terms with it. Rei has obviously taken a very different path to healing- not entirely voluntarily- but she has been working with doctors and therapists for years to change and recover and reconnect with herself and her children. Natsuo is off at college, and takes every opportunity he can to avoid Endeavor. He (understandably) wants nothing to do with him, and shows stagnant resistance to his attempts to atone.

The reason why Natsuo can't move on from the past is because his trauma didn't come from Endeavor. It came from Touya.

Now initially we were led to believe that it was simply Touya's untimely death that still bothers Natsuo, and it makes sense seeing how Endeavor drove him to the edge. Losing his best friend and brother as a young kid without parents to support him or any therapist to speak of can absolutely been the source of persistent emotional damage, but the more and more we learn about Touya's situation, the more evident it becomes that Natsuo's trauma is much much deeper than even grief.

Touya, as we know, was driven by an ambition instilled in him by his father and experienced extreme rejection sensitivity when those ambitions were no longer realistic. Touya's relationship with his parents could be described as insecure attachment, a psychological term primarily regarding how kids react and respond to their parents and other close relationships. As he was raised, Touya learned to equate his potential to be a hero with his personal worth and similarly confounded attention with love. The difference being, of course, that love is unconditional, but even attention was being continually directed away from him as a punishment for continuing to train and burn himself so he could once again become worthy in his fathers' eyes.

This is where Natsuo comes in. At first it was assumed that all of the Todoroki children were born out of Endeavor's strong-willed desire to have a child that could surpass All Might, but we learned that this isn't exactly the case. I'd argue that it was narratively poetic on Horikoshi's part once this was expanded upon. Fuyumi was born to support and encourage her brother, and that is the exact role she plays 23 years later, keeping her family together.

Natsuo's case is even more intersting.

It was bad enough if Natsuo was only born for the potential of his quirk, but it's even more sinister that the sole intent behind his birth was to discourage Touya from his ambitions. I'd say it was to replace him, but it was more to promote the idea that Touya was expendable than to raise aonther kid with the same ideals but the potential to actually achieve it, although that was definitely a secondary motivation.

The parallelism in this is how much Natsuo's life revolves around Touya. He was born because of Touya, he looked up to and took care of Touya as a kid, and the absence of Touya in the present continues to drive him and his decisions in life (but more on that later).

I continue to pray that we will eventually get more solid backstory on Natsuo and Touya's relationship as kids and where it cut off, wether on a bad note or not, but there are a few things we know for certain. One, Touya was mentally ill. Yes, he was rejected by his parents but he seems to have been particularly vulnerable to this compared to any of his siblings since he was the first of them and thus relied only on his parents for validation in his early years. He shows early signs of a variety of different mental disorders, particularly BPD, which I have previously written a whole analysis for on its own. Touya is shown self-harming both by the very nature of his quirk and even by very directly ripping his hair out. He was incredibly self-destructive.

This is why it is so much more concerning to me that Natsuo, who was AT LEAST four years younger than him, was his primary source of comfort. Natsuo was too young to have known anything more than 'my big brother is sad that daddy won't train him anymore' and he obviously wasn't equipped in any way to handle Touya's severe mental illness. Touya most definitely needed professional treaatment as his forms of coping were abnormal even for the neglect and rejection that he experienced. Natsuo comforted Touya through breakdown after breakdown, and more than that Touya relied on him and came to him voluntarily for support. Natsuo was the best option he had, and he took full advantage of that. The main source of Natsuo's trauma was Touya's reliance on him.

Not to say at all that this was in any way Touya's fault- he was mentally ill and desperately in need of some form of comfort to keep him sane; it was almost a survival method at this point since neither of his parents really acknowleged him at all anymore. Touya's instability hurt Natsuo more than parental neglect ever did, but it was the neglect that enabled it and striped Touya of the supportive atmosphere he would have needed at this point not only to prevent but to heal from the mental damage he had already suffered.

Natsuo dealt with this for years and you can see how much it hurt him to see Touya in so much pain, not only from Endeavor's rejection but from his own self harm as well. For Natuso to know that his brotherly love would never be the same as having loving parents; would neve be enough- but at least it was something so he continued to love and care about his brother for little in return- is indicative of the kind of character he is.

(Edit: After the events of chapter 302 we know that Natsuo's relationship with Touya wasn't perfect. I will elaborate more on this in a different post, but I just wanted to clarify that although we were shown a very high-tension scene between them, it is implied that this was a regular occurrence that Natsuo was usually more receptive too but tired out of, in addition to Touya's spiraling mental health. It fit with the natrative to show the tension Touya was feeling with his family from all directions, but Natsu and Touya clearly had a stronger relationship up to and before this point, evidenced by their sharing a room and playing together regularly.)

He is incredibly selfless, and it's interesting to note how many of his positive qualities as an adult stem from negative experiences as a kid. He never really felt love from his parents, so he relied on Touya (and likely also Fuyumi) for that as well. If he grew up learning he had to give love in order to recieve it back, it absolutely influenced who he became in the future, a solid example of this being the responsibility he feels to reach out and have a relationship with Shouto and further regrets that he wasn't able to help his abuse in the past either. Another aspect of his character that intruigues me is how gentle he is. Personality-wise he seems about as opposite as he could be from the awkward, stoic, emotionally-stunted person that is Endeavor.

There are a couple of reasons for this, beyond what I've already discussed.

One, he had little to no contact with elements of toxic masculinity growing up, especially not from Endeavor.

Two, most of the influence he did have growing up was from Fuyumi, who is established to have endlessly cared for him since he was a literal baby.

Three, he grew up in a household where almost everyone around him was in much more literal, immediate pain than he was so he developed a very strong sense of empathy that might also have been tied to early survivor's guilt.

Now I have one important distinction to make, and that's the temptation to label him as a 'softboy' or something of the like after seeing him caring for his family and more pointedly, watching him break down in tears during chapter 252. While there is absolutely nothing wrong with men being soft or vulnerable (on the contrary it's actually so so important and relevant that Hori is writing characters like this in a mainstream shounen manga but that's an essay for another time), it is unfair to label him as such based on a moment when his trauma is being exposed.

Because his truama stems from such a young age, there is a blurry line between just being born with more emotional intelligence and the situation he was in fostering those traits. You know, the classic nature/nurture thing. My point being, it's important to tread carefully when discussing the nature of his personality to avoid invalidating his trauma; I have no doubt that he is very strong for having survived these things, and the moments we see of him onscreen are definitely among his most vulnerable.

Another thing that people less familiar with Natsuo's character might assume is that he is hot-headed and argumentative. I thought that at first too- after all, he doesn't seem to shy away from yelling at Endeavor when given the opportunity. However, this doesn't seem to be the case at all.

The first real scene we see him in with Endeavor, the man walks into the room and Natsuo decides he can't handle it and goes to leave. However, Endeavor happens to be blocking the doorway. Endeavor physically stops him and provokes him to his face, asking him to say whatever is on him mind. While Natsuo is notably not confrontational, Endeavor is. I think it's fair to say that he felt at least uneasy at this gesture. Natsuo is very honest with his feelings, and it's obvious that he's pissed at the audacity of Endeavor to be so oblivious to his own son. This is presumably one of the first real interactions they've ever really had, and at this point Natsuo has been dealing with trauma (caused by Endeavor!) on his own for years, and Endeavor seems completely oblivious to his pain and dismmisive to the rest of the family's as well.

Again during the internship arc Natsuo tries to get along with Endeavor and this time he actually gives it a fleeting chance. Tensions are high, however, and the conversation very quickly becomes uncomfortable, at which point he leaves. It is continually implied that Natsuo is uncomfortable being around Endeavor because his very presence brings up painful thoughts and memories of a time when sharing the same space as him was a warning to run and hide. This is later directly confirmed by Natsuo as he says that every time he looks at Endeavor's face he remembers Touya and the pain he was in.

I feel like an important side note is that we have never seen Natsuo outside the context of his family, which is understandable, as the role he plays in the story directly relates to them. However, if you take a look at Shouto, even though his experiences have shaped him to become who he is, he definitely acts differently when Endeavor's not in the vicinity.

Back to Touya's death, it would be very rare that someone would mourn a death for an entire decade without finding closure unless there are other factors preventing it, and uncomfortably this seems to be the same thing for both Natsuo and Endeavor: guilt.

This is getting incredibly long already, but it's important to note that Natsuo probably felt an incredible responsibility to take care of Touya and protect him because of his empathetic nature. His love was never going to be the same as having loving parents. His encouragement was never going to be the same as having support from Endeavor. Even further than then neglect and abandonement, it was not being able to save Touya that really made Natsuo feel worthless.

He seems to try and remedy this inability to save Touya and diminish his guilt by doing everything he can to be better. He reaches out to Shouto to be a better brother, he consistently pushes his limits to entertain Fuyumi's notion of a happy family, and he's working hard towards a degree rhat will allow him to help people like Touya (and Rei) because he failed to do so in the past.

His bio mildly implies that he didn't have much of a direction he was heading in after high school, but Fuyumi's encouragement led him to seek out his current college career. This goes back to Natsuo's 'purpose' in a sense revolving arount Touya, from his birth to his relationship with him to his death, after which he lost his direction. They were always rather inseperable, so naturally their seperation hit Natsuo hard. He lost his direction in life so when Fuyumi encouraged him to rediscover it, he thought of helping people, because that's ultimately what he was born to do.

Thank you so, so much for reading this if you made it to the end! I clearly have a lot of thoughts on this. Let me know what you think about it as well, and hopefully we'll get more info on this soon in the manga :)

[kanmom51]

In the early years, we've seen Jimin being quite confident and vocal eventhough sometimes shy in his attempts at "wooing" JK or just in his interactions with JK while JK has been the shy person.

You've said multiple times that you believe it was always JK who made the first move, whatever it was, a kiss or a confession. Why do you think so. I mean, I can totally see that happening because JK is such a romantic sap when it comes to Jimin. But I want to know how, why and what makes you think it was JK who took that first step closer. Because it's easy to believe it would have been Jimin and that's also what most jkkrs believe.

Simply put anon, like you said, JM kept hinting, pushing, saying, and JK pushed back, rejecting him.

Yes, it was all with a smile. Yes, it could have been said jokingly. But you know, there is a grain of truth in every joke. JM was putting himself out there, and I know he probably didn't expect JK to jump on him in return, but maybe he thought he won't be outright rejected time and time again the way he was. He was young too. Maybe didn't understand that putting a shy introvert on the spot in front of cameras isn't the way to go about it.

In any case, JM might be open and fun and seemingly confident, but at times we get a glimpse of just how insecure he can be.

We also need to remember that he was a young man who had feelings for another young man, someone that was underage at the time, living in a society that isn't accepting of that kind of love. Both of them, for that matter, had to come to terms with who they were and with the feelings they had, which according to the society they live in, are considered to be wrong.

Add that to JM being the older and expected to be the more responsible one, and the emotional pressure on him goes up ten fold.

I really believe that JM was scared to make the first move - scared of being rejected again, scared of what it actually meant, scared of JK still being a minor, scared maybe also of how it would be perceived by others.

Then we have JK's parents story. His mother being a couple of years older than his father, and yet, his mother, a woman, going against conventions and initiating the first move with his father by asking him out. Could this have set an example for JK?

JK making the first move, that breaks the dam. Everything can now overflow.

JM's reaction to JK calling him handsome and complimenting him during JK's mission. The happiness, the surprise. He can't believe JK genuinely means it, thinking that he hid his phone or was up to something. I know JK was on a mission, one he pretty much finished within a few seconds, getting JM to say thank you. But JK just kept on going, not only enjoying giving the compliments, saying it out loud, supposedly having to (but not really) but also enjoying JM's reaction to it. And JM, well he was having trouble believing in JK's sincerity. That is not one to make the first move. This is filmed 18 August 2015.

Only two days later, JM's reaction on 20 August 2015 when JK stops by his side and sings the lyrics from 'For you' to him. The surprise. The joy. You can kind of see the cogs turning in his brain.

And then we have them in the HK concert on 29 August 2015. The way JK holds eye contact, his confidence, that's the confidence of someone that make the first move. JM's shy, kind of hesitant look back and smile, they are indicative of someone being on the receiving end rather than being the initiator.

So, yeah, I think JK was the one to initiate things between them. The one to make the first move.

[pascalpanic]

Begin Again (Marcus Pike x f!Reader)

Inspo: Begin Again by Adam Melchor

Summary: Dating apps never pair you with the right people. Until you come across the profile of a handsome, pancake loving FBI agent named Marcus.

W/C: 4.8k

Warnings: lots of talk of food, language, late night deep conversations, some sadness at the end but nothing intense? reader has a pet cat, is that worth a warning? idk

A/N: HI GUYS this is my first full length Marcus Pike fic! I really hope you like it!! thank you so much to @theteddylupinexperience and @sanchosammy for being my best editors and proofreaders and idea givers!!!

note: PLS listen to the song before/after/while reading! it’s one of my favs and it really goes along with the story

Over the course of your adult years, you’ve become convinced that dating apps are complete and utter bullshit. The algorithms never work right, never pair you or any of your friends with anyone worth seeing in person. Maybe that’s just the problem; maybe it’s not the apps but the people. Whatever the answer is, whatever reason you’ve never found success in the endless swiping, you’re through with it.

That was before last week. The rainy Tuesday night left you in your apartment, alone, to succumb to the cold spring dreariness. Over a cup of hot tea, you’d downloaded the app again. Might as well try, right? You have nothing to lose. If worst comes to worst, catfishing an annoying guy is always a blast. The good news is that this app requires you as the woman to make the first move. That’s kind of a downside- you never know how to start conversations- but at least you can’t get unsolicited dick pics right off the bats. Life is full of tradeoffs, you suppose.

You begin again. The app becomes your favorite pastime. Bored at work or home? Dating app it is. Left. Left. Left. Boring man after boring man. One labeled himself super-straight: absolutely fucking not. One holding a fish: nope. A man who describes himself as a gym rat: not your type. It’s a boring way to spend your lunch break, you’re aware, but the entertainment value is fun if nothing else. There are a lot of strange men out there.

After a few days, your luck seems to turn around as the photo of a man with brown hair and warm brown eyes pops up on your screen. He has a scruffy beard and wavy hair, and the way his smile tugs at the corner of his lips makes your heart flutter. He’s really cute, you have to admit. You read the bio next.

Marcus, 35

❗️ Washington, D.C.

Got forced into making this, but optimistic. Lover of art, dogs, and time to relax. Always down for breakfast for dinner and cuddling. Looking for someone with a sense of independence, love of travel, and a sleep schedule equally fucked up as mine. Must love pancakes.

Must love pancakes. That’s absolutely adorable. You immediately think of your cat, named Pancake, and you laugh and swipe right, hoping the man already thought the same of you. Your eyes widen with excitement and you almost laugh out loud from your giddy state when you see the little logo indicating it’s a match.

The first message you send him has to be perfect. You ponder your options for a minute, frowning and furrowing your brow as you think. You don’t want to come on too strong; you’re not trying to sound like you want a hookup. A simple one-word greeting wouldn’t be enough.

You could comment on something from his bio, you realize as you read it again and again. Maybe ask him about his dog? No, that’s too awkward. You want it to be about him, something that can draw him in. Talk about traveling? No, you don’t want to sound like you’re bragging about the places you’ve gone in your life.

Pancakes. Pancakes are good. You love pancakes. You think for a second more, debating what to say, before inspiration strikes and you send off the message before you can stop yourself.

-

Marcus Pike has essentially felt the same as you. He’s a somewhat charming man. He’s had his fair share of relationships, but they never quite work out. His ex-wife, now long gone and blocked from his phone, was an absolute failure of a relationship. He’d gotten close to what felt like true love with Teresa, another FBI agent, but she flaked at the last second.

Maybe the constant here was that he met them in person. When Marcus falls, he falls hard and fast, down an endless spiral of emotions with no escape. Maybe if he met someone online, it would be different. His best friends had all encouraged it, and on a night out not long after Teresa left him, Pike set up his own profile. He liked that the app didn’t require him to make the first move. It’s refreshing.

Marcus had seen your profile hours ago, on a mindless phone break from his work. He’d swiped right too, stunned by your smile and the lovelines you radiated even through the phone. He crossed his fingers for a good part of the day, hoping you’d swipe right on him too.

His day is busy, leaving him no time to fiddle with his phone and distract himself. He eats in the cafeteria, checking up on his phone. After lunch, he’s walking back to his office when his heart flutters as he sees the dating app indicates he’s had a match. He looks at it and swallows hard before stopping, moving to the side of the hallway to allow others to pass. He’s breathing hard, and his heart speeds up when he sees that you are the one that matched with him.

He knows how this app works. He has to wait now, to let you make the first move. He can’t even write a message until you send one. So he pockets his phone again and continues on his walk.

He’s determined on his walk, rushing back to his desk so he can sit and be thoroughly enthralled in waiting for or receiving your response. His phone buzzes several times with notifications, one of which he prays is you. When he finally sits, he opens the app ceremoniously and has to hold back a genuine laugh when he sees your first message.

Blueberry or chocolate chip?

Marcus shoots back a text nearly immediately. Sorry, what?

Your bio. “Must love pancakes”. Blueberry or chocolate chip?

Marcus is absolutely beaming as he leans back in his chair, crossing his legs. Blueberry. Always. I hope that’s the right answer :)

Unfortunately, it’s not, but you’re cute so I’ll let it slide

You called him cute. It makes Marcus’s heart flutter. Come on. There’s nothing like the warm blueberry popping in your mouth.

There is. It’s when the chocolate chips are all melty and creamy.

God, Marcus is already painfully into you. You know what… at least you love pancakes. I’ll let it slide. You got a favorite place?

Anywhere I can get ‘em. You seem like quite the connoisseur, do you have one place in mind?

Jane slams down a stack of files on Marcus’s desk. “Paperwork overflow, Pike. Can you get these done tonight?”

Marcus is the fastest in the office with paperwork, which often leads to him being the one that flies through the files in the place of the people who actually filed it. He nods. What else is there to do? “Sure.”

Jane claps him on the shoulder and wanders off. Marcus watches him in slight annoyance. The best place in D.C. is definitely Sandy’s. Hey I gotta go, text ya later?

I’d love that :)

-

It didn’t take long for your texting to move from the dating app to actual texting. It happened within the same day, in fact.

Marcus messaged you some hours after the initial conversation. Your phone buzzed while you were doing yoga in your apartment, your cat curled into a ball beneath your stomach as you held a downward dog. You nearly collapsed on top of Pancake as you fumbled to sit cross-legged on the end of your yoga mat.

The message from Marcus is bright on the top of your screen. Hi. Sorry that took so long. Work stuff.

Smiling, you take a swig from your water bottle and lean back against your couch. Not a problem. Understandable. What do you do for a living? It’s a loaded question in D.C.; they could range anywhere from politicians to their rich sons to artists and athletes.

I work for the FBI, actually.

Your eyes light up in excitement. That’s the coolest shit I’ve heard. What do you do? Are you an agent?

The man’s responses don’t take long at all. He must be waiting in the chat to respond. The idea makes your heart flutter. Yep, I’m an agent. I work in international art crimes.

You certainly didn’t expect that for an answer. Wow, okay, that’s even cooler than I thought. I was about to call you Agent Pancake but I think my girl would be disheartened...

Snapping a photo of the way Pancake is nuzzling into your side, meowing for snuggles, you have to laugh as you send the photo his way. Funny you love pancakes so much. This little muppet is named Pancake.

Marcus responds with a barrage of heart-eyes emojis, which makes you laugh aloud and scoop Pancake into your lap, stroking her strawberry-blonde fluff. She’s an absolute angel. Like her mother, I’m presuming.

Your cheeks flood with warmth and you can feel the tips of your ears turning hot too. You’ve never even met me, Agent…? You trail off the text, asking for his last name.

Pike.

Agent Marcus Pike. What a nice sounding name. It sounds official and strong and you really like it. Cute last name. Might steal it from ya someday ;)

You don’t normally flirt this shamelessly, but he’s so goddamn cute and funny. You cross your fingers behind your back that this isn’t just a facade, that this is Marcus himself texting like he would to anyone else. You got a phone number?

As you laugh, Pancake paws at your chest to grab your attention, nails nearly digging into the stretchy fabric of your yoga tank top. “Watch it,” you scold her softly and remove her paw from your chest, picking her up and giving her a kiss on the head. Sure do. You want it?

Yes please.

You send your number his way and moments later, your phone pings with a text from an unlabeled number.

Maybe: Pike: hey, it’s Pike :)

You: hey… dammit, I really want to call you Agent Pancakes, but I think my fluffy little heathen would be offended. I don’t know what to save you in my phone as...

Agent Pancakes: Save me as whatever, I suppose. Not my problem, right?

-

The texts became more frequent. Over the course of three weeks, you’d stay up late talking like teenagers, knowing you need to go to bed but unable to bring yourself to do it.

You learned that his middle name was Mauricio, that his mother wanted him to have at least something a little more Latino in his name. You told him the story of how you’d adopted Pancake as a kitten from a shelter and she woke you up one morning with her claws entwined in a snarl of your hair. He told you about his ex-wife and ex-fiancée, Teresa, and you responded that he deserved something better than that. You can already tell that he’s a good man.

At the end of three weeks, you shot Marcus a text. Things seemed to be going pretty well.

You: Hey, you want to do a video call sometime soon?

Agent Pancakes: I’d love that! I’m free tonight if you are.

You: Always free. Shouldn’t you know that?? Doesn’t the FBI spy on us through our phones and whatever?

Agent Pancakes: well, I do work in art crimes. Even if we did, it would be a totally different thing

You: Good.

An hour later, you fidget with your hands as you sit on your couch, the laptop propped up across from you and ringing for a video chat. Marcus’s profile picture bobs on the screen as you wait for him to pick up.

Marcus’s face and apartment fills your screen, and you automatically grin. “Hi,” you giggle and wave, absolutely enraptured by how cute his real smile is, not the forced one in the photos.

“Hey. Nice to kind of-finally meet you,” he tells you and waves back. The wall of his apartment is nothing exciting, but his facial expressions already have you falling. Those big brown eyes compliment natural but ridiculously pink lips, and his brown hair is neatly done. It looks like he’s wearing a tie and a dress shirt; probably his work gear, you suppose.

“You too!” You tell him, unable to stop smiling. “You shaved.”

-

Marcus’s heart jumps out of his chest when he sees you ringing him. He barely has time to flop on the couch and turn it on, propping up the camera across from him.

God, you’re so gorgeous. Your giggle is infectious, making Marcus laugh softly at god knows what. Your grin is equally as contagious, making him smile back. He rubs his jaw in response. “Yeah, yeah. I tend to keep it clean there. Stubble takes too much maintenance, and I have this little patch where it never quite grows,” he tells you as he juts his chin to the camera, touching the spot where his beard can’t grow.

“I like it either way,” you assure him, shrugging a little. “How was your day, Agent Pancakes?” Your voice is the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard, even with the granulated audio over this shitty app. Agent Pancakes makes his heart flutter. “No, not you!” You groan as Pancake climbs onto your lap. “Hi. Your twin wants to say hi.”

Marcus’s smile widens. “Oh my god, hello cutie pie,” he chuckles, launching into baby talk. “What a pretty girl. You make a good Pancake.”

You smile and rub her fur, grinning. “She’s my baby,” you chuckle and set her aside. “Yeah. I’m busy. Leave me alone.” Pancake meows in protest. “Shut up, I’m on a date,” you whine.

Marcus’s ears perk up. “This is a date?”

Your eyes widen as you turn back to him. “I… yeah?” You ask, wincing a little.

He grins back at you. “I like it. And I’m really in love with the idea of seeing your face when you talk.”

“I like your voice,” you flirt back, but you mean it. “It’s so pretty. Do you sing?” You ask mindlessly, studying the way his brow furrows and his eyes convey exactly what he’s thinking.

He chuckles softly. “I used to. I haven’t in a long long time.”

“You’ll have to sing for me sometime.”

When he shakes his head, his neatly gelled hair tries to break free. A strand does, falling in his face. “You don’t wanna hear it, I promise.” He removes his tie, and you can’t help but watch the movement. It’s incredibly sexy.

A mischievous smile makes you bite the inside of your cheek. “No, I really do, I really think I do.”

Marcus rolls his eyes. “Only if you try the pancakes at Sandy’s sometime. I promise you, they’re the best pancakes in the District. I’ve never had the chocolate chip pancakes, but if they’re anywhere near as good as the blueberry, they’re fantastic. And they’re open 24 hours. I go there a lot for late night case work.”

You smile at that, getting cozy on your couch and hugging your blanket. “That does sound nice. I love a good all day breakfast,” you say with raised eyebrows, the teasing in your voice. “Okay, human Pancakes. How was your day?” You ask him again, intent on hearing his answer. Not only is his job fascinating, but he’s adorable when he explains things.

Marcus frowns, and that makes you instinctively frown too. “Well, it’s been good. We’re tracking a huge smuggling ring right now, but since we’ve pinpointed a stock house for them, I might have to travel for a while.”

You frown. You’d been hoping you could have a real date soon, at least. “How long is a while?” You ask him curiously, sipping from your water bottle that sits next to you.

“Couple weeks. No less than a month, probably. I’d… well, I might have to go undercover, which means we couldn’t talk for a while.” His eyes are apologetic, showing that he hates this news as much as you do. “And… I’d leave maybe tomorrow or the day after.”

Your heart sinks. “So soon,” you say with a sad smile, a desperate and lonely chuckle. “Well, if you want to come home to me, I’ll be here.”

Marcus’s smile perks up just slightly. “You would be the best thing in the world to come home to. And I’ll have the scruff back by then.”

“Yes!” You exclaim and laugh, pumping a fist in the air. “I think you’re really cute anyway, but I really love the scruff,” you shrug shyly.

“Maybe I’ll grow it out just for you.”

-

The adrenaline from his first technical-date with you prevents Marcus from sleeping. The call lasted hours, the two of you covering almost everything important in your lives. You talked about your favorite television programs and politics, your parents and your favorite pizza toppings. Talking with him was like nothing you’d ever experience, a connection you’d never thought a dating app could offer.

After several hours, during a lull in the conversation, Marcus suggested the two of you log off. It was around 11 P.M. now, and, even though Marcus has a sleep schedule like a raccoon, he figured you should sleep. He blew you a kiss through the camera, which you pretended to hold to your chest and grin at him.

But now it’s an hour later, just past midnight, and Marcus is antsy. He doesn’t sleep much anyway, but your face is running through his mind like it owns the place, and at this point, maybe you do. Marcus sits up in bed and sighs. He knows the proper remedy for this: Sandy’s. Throwing on a rare pair of jeans and a leather jacket over the white v-neck he wears, he slips on his shoes and makes his way to the tiny, 24-hour diner.

-

The adrenaline is coursing through your veins too. You text any of your friends that will listen, rambling about how beautiful Marcus’s face is and how wonderful it was to finally hear his voice. You pace your apartment, petting Pancake as you pass her perch on the arm of your couch. You try to do a little yoga to calm down but you can’t stop smiling. Marcus occupies too much room in your brain to try to think about anything else.

When it’s just after midnight, hunger strikes. You realize you never ate dinner, too preoccupied with talking to the handsome man to even consider microwaving something from your fridge. Talking with Marcus has instilled you with a love for pancakes, and you think to yourself that maybe Sandy’s would be worth a shot. It’s open late.

So you toss on a jacket and pick up your purse, slinging it over your shoulder and leaving your apartment. You toss the book you’ve been reading into your bag, planning to read it while you sit and eat. Pancake gives a sleepy meow of protest but you just smile and lock the door behind you.

The diner is just as small as Marcus described it to you: just a short line of booths along the windows and a smattering of tables in the middle. There’s a colorful, warm-toned tile floor that juxtaposes the warm green of the walls and the smell of fresh coffee and pancakes wafting through the air. Quiet classic swing music filling the atmosphere. You can see why he likes it: it automatically makes you smile.

You sit in one of the booths, facing away from the door, and the kind waitress takes your order: chocolate chip pancakes and an English breakfast tea. The air conditioning is blasting, making you chilly. You tighten your jacket around yourself and sip the tea when it arrives, adding cream and sugar.

Cracking open the book, you cross your legs and lose yourself in the book. The restaurant has a calming aura, and you can feel the tea warming you from the inside. It’s fitting that Marcus loves this place, you think to yourself.

When the pancakes come not long after, you take a bite and almost groan in happiness. It’s absolutely delicious: Marcus was most definitely right. Disappointingly, you have to go to the bathroom about three bites in.

Even the bathrooms are cute, you discover. When you return, someone else sits a booth away,  another lone diner at this godforsaken hour of night, facing the door. You can see the back of what appears to be a man’s head, neatly trimmed brown hair and a brown leather jacket over their neck and shoulders. Sitting back down, your back to the other customer’s, you return to your book and continue to eat your chocolate chip pancakes.

The customer and waitress are talking, but you don’t pay much attention, too enraptured by your book. It’s quiet again after the man puts in his order, and you enjoy the soft jazz music that makes you tap your foot in time against the tile.

There’s a buzzing and the melodic sound of a phone’s ringtone; one of the defaults that a phone provides. Your heart skips a beat as you hear the man pick up. “Agent Pike.”

That can’t be your Agent Pike, can it? You turn and listen and realize it’s definitely him, from his voice and the way he holds himself and the stack of- of course, blueberry pancakes and a hot coffee set in front of him.

“Yeah. Yeah. Okay. Sounds good. Let me write that down.” Marcus types something into his phone. “See you then. At the office? Good. Alright, see you.” He hangs up.

Standing, you tuck your book back in your purse and put the bag over your shoulder. With one hand, you grab your plate of pancakes, and the other grabs your tea. You set them down across from him and slide into the booth, grinning. “Huh. Agent Pancakes, here, in the middle of the night. How unusual.”

Marcus’s tired face lights up in excitement. “What?” He laughs, his eyes scanning your face. “Why are you here?”

You shrug and take a bite of his pancakes, sighing. “Had to see if they were worth the hype. I couldn’t sleep, you got me so excited.” The blueberry pancakes are absolutely fantastic, just as good if not better than the chocolate chip ones on your plate. “Damn, you were right.”

“Hey,” he laughs and pulls his plate closer to his chest. “Don’t touch my pancakes.”

You make pleading pouty eyes, frowning a little. “Can’t we share?” You tease. It already feels like you’ve known him for years, even though this is your first time seeing him in person.

Marcus sighs. “I suppose,” he says and rolls his eyes in sarcasm, pushing his plate back out so you can access it.

-

Marcus is beyond stunned, absolutely enraptured in how beautiful you are in person. If he thought he fell on that video call earlier, he’s now reached the very bottom of that cliff, the impact of your everything stealing the air from his lungs. God, he wants nothing more than to kiss you right now, on those lips coated in blueberry juice and maple syrup.

The two of you spend quite some time so there, just talking and continuing the conversation where it left off before. The waitress refills Marcus’s coffee twice and your tea once. “So who called you when you were sitting alone?” You ask him as you bring the white porcelain mug to your lips, sipping at the creamy tea.

He sighs. “Guy I work with, his name’s Patrick. He’s a douchebag, I can’t lie,” he says with a chuckle, and his heart flutters at the way you give a soft laugh back. “Just telling me the details. I leave in about 6 hours. I’ll be in Singapore for a couple of weeks.”

“Singapore?” You exclaim, eyes wide as your fork clanks against your plate. “You better be able to contact me.”

He shakes his head. “I told you, I’m going undercover. I can’t.” He sighs, and he dares to reach out and touch you, to reassure you that he’s there and himself that you’re real, that you’re right there. “Will you wait for me?”

Your heart melts, from an already slush-covered river to a rushing rapids. “Of course, Marcus.” It makes his heart skip a beat. You’ve called him lots of nicknames, but never his real name. Something is painfully intimate about it. “I like you a lot; why wouldn’t I?” You ask, shrugging as if it’s the simplest thing. “Distance makes the heart grow fonder.”

When you finish your meals, Marcus picks up both tabs, despite your protesting. “Can I walk you to your place?” He asks as you both stand and adjust your jackets.

You nod and take his hand. The lights of the city are seemingly extra dim tonight, leaving the street lights to illuminate your beautiful face as the two of you stroll along. You have all the time in the world, don’t you? It’s 1:30 in the morning. You’re both already evading sleep desperately. A little more time together can’t hurt.

His hand never leaves yours, his fingers lacing through your knuckles. You chat quietly, as if you could wake the sleeping city from the peaceful blue drone of a weeknight morning into its daily splendor of horns and hordes of speedy pedestrians.

Marcus bumps your shoulder with his, making you stumble a little to the side and laugh as you look up at his gorgeous face. His face reflects the love you’re both feeling, almost giving the city around you a pink glaze of warmth from the rose-colored glasses you must have placed over his eyes.

The walk draws to an end, as you stand at the entrance to your apartment building. Marcus’s body looks so soft and inviting, and you dare to wrap your arms around his neck and hug him to your chest. “I don’t want you to go, Agent Pancakes,” you murmur into the soft skin of his neck, which is starting to get a shadow of stubble.

Marcus kisses the top of your head. He doesn’t move either, prolonging this time you have together before he can’t see you. “I don’t want to go. I’ve never wanted to stay here more than I do now, but I have to.” His arms wrap around your waist, strong and safe.

Lifting your head, you look up at him, your noses practically touching from the proximity you share. The world feels like a bubble around you two, like some impenetrable one-way material that makes it so if Marcus leaves now, he can never come back. “Well, it’s gonna be a long time, a month or two,” you say with a sad smile. “We’ll have to begin again.”

Marcus shakes his head, his brown eyes almost welling with tears. “There’s no one else I’d want to begin again with.” With that, he looks in your eyes, the question hanging there. Wait for me?

Always, you respond silently by pressing your lips to his, kissing him slowly in the orange glow of your apartment building’s entrance. He kisses back, his lips tasting of coffee and maple and blueberry, yours tasting like chocolate and tea.

You squeeze your arms tighter around him, getting on your tiptoes to be as physically close as you can to him. He has one hand on either side of your rib cage, holding you there as he kisses back with all of the passion and love he has.

It can’t last too long or he’ll never leave. He won’t be able to. He breaks away after a few moments, his lips close to yours. He presses your foreheads together, arms encircling you again. “I have to go. I have to be at the office in an hour.”

You lift your head and your brow furrows in confusion. “Then why did you take so long to walk and eat with me?” You laugh quietly.

Marcus shrugs. “Didn’t want to leave you yet,” he admits, his eyes trained on yours. He gives you one last painfully gentle kiss. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you more,” you say with a sad smile. “You’ve been my distraction lately. Whenever I’m bored, I text you.”

He sighs, the confession increasing his frown. “I’ll be in an entirely new place, without you.”

“But I’ll be here, in my same old life without you in it.”

The words punch a hole through Marcus’s heart. It’s true; he’ll have new distractions, new things to do. You’ll be here with a Marcus Pike-shaped hole in your heart. He kisses your forehead, the wheels turning in his head. “If you get a call in the next few weeks from an unknown number, be sure to answer it, okay?”

You nod and smile softly. “You need to go. Go.”

He nods and his hand squeezes yours. “I can’t wait to begin again with you.” With that, Marcus Pike, Agent Pancakes, whatever you want to call him, the man you’re highly suspecting might be your soulmate, walks off into the slightly chilly D.C. night.

-

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