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khuzena · 22 days

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Friends

Jing yuan x g/n!reader

Summary: The xianzhou citizens don't often indulge in romance, to love is to one day see yourself fall into the embrace of mara— to let your lover witness it. Some still love, some deny themselves of such feelings.

Cw. Angst, unrequited love (not really), getting drunk, mixed signals, implied sexual stuff and a little bit of that but they don't actually do it (i think), no fluff no comfort because that shit is for the weak

A/n: Did I cry writing this? Yes. Was it worth it? I don't know.

Love.

noun

an intense feeling of deep affection.

He wonders if you ever noticed how he felt about you. Lingering gazes lasting deeper than it should, ‘accidental’ brushes against your hand or how he finds himself dropping everything he's doing just to be with you.

“Jing yuan, your move.”

Your words snap him back to reality, he awkwardly bit his lip, his focus back on the board. Right.

He wonders as he moves his piece two tiles forward, would you ever get wind of these growing feelings of his? If you did,

“Checkmate.”

Would you feel the same?

A light chuckle leaves his lips, the sight of your frustrated expression ingrained in his mind, like every memory he has of you.

A loud slam echoed in the room, “How do you always win?”

“You make brash decisions on the board,” Jing yuan backtracks the pieces before the soul-crushing checkmate, he positioned your pieces, “It should've gone here, you could've blocked my move.”

An exasperated sigh escapes you, clamping chunks of your hair frustratedly after realising you could've won, “I hate you.”

The man laughs as he tidies up the table, eyes still trained on you.

He doesn't know how and why you both ended up in this position.

Your relationship was complicated.

He doesn't understand you.

Sometimes you'd hold his hand, tell him all your secrets like he were a priest at a confessional, take care of him and everything of the like.

Yet, you always pushed him away. He'd sit right beside you, looking over your shoulder to read the novel you recently took interest in. As if he were a bug, you'd swat him away for being too close.

“Ji, don't get too close. I'm melting from the heat.” you say, but it was winter?

He doesn't understand love at all.

He loves mimi, he loves starchess, he loves his family (the high-cloud quintet, or should I say, ex-family), he loves tea, he loves his home.

Sometimes you two would go out to the library, indulging in me-time, faces buried in pages.

“Jing yuan, have you found a book about that one novel I told you about?” He shook his head no, he doesn't indulge in fictional work that often. But you loved novels.

“I think I found it.” He wipes the dust off the book spine. ‘How to fall in love with a genius’, what a strange book title.

“Really?” quietly tiptoeing towards his direction, the library lady eyeing you two; you had a habit of making too much noise, leading to the bookkeeper scolding you both.

“Here,” he blew over the cover, dust particles puffing in your face.

“Bastard—” words barely audible as you spoke in-between coughs, “Thanks though”

The bookkeeper glaring at you two, sending shivers down your spine. The idiot laughs again, you slap his back.

You both get kicked out.

Friends don't get drunk together, friends don't cuddle, friend's don't do this.

Like ‘friends’, you cling to him in his bed, head nuzzled in his neck. Jing yuan was scared to hug you or even dare to hold your waist.

He can only get a taste of heaven but never the real thing, you can hug him yet when he reciprocates he's too close.

He envies at how audacious you are. That you're not afraid to hold him like he's yours but he could never call you his. How you could just stare at him with those loving resplendent eyes but he could never stare longer at yours.

This time however, he wishes he slept in, he wishes he told you he was busy, that he doesn't want to hang out today.

One drink turned to two, two drinks turned to three. More, more and more, until you're on top of him, all of him you can see.

“Ji.”

How cruel you are. Straddled on his lap as he was laid against the pearly sheets of his bed, your eyes devoid of light as your free hand tug on the hem of his shirt, “Jing yuan, I'm sorry”

You cried again, gripping his shirt tightly. Why can't he push you away?

Tears spill out as you desperately wanted to love him, as he did too. But was it really love?

“I love you.” he accidentally slips out.

Your eyes widened in fear, you tried to convince yourself you didn't hear anything as you grind your hips on his lap, croaking out a guttural moan.

“Please,” you grinded faster, your hips burning, you prayed to god that what you heard was a lie, that you misheard him.

He groans in desperation, hands on your hips, “I really love you.”

Without a second thought, as if you were sober, you swatted his hand away and got off his lap. He stares at you like you were a madman— why did you suddenly stop?

He wishes he was drunk enough to indulge in you that night, but sober enough to have never said that.

He sat up, his hand reaching out for you but you swat it away again, “Stop.”

A sob stuck in his throat, heavy breaths drowning out the wanton moans from earlier.

“I…”

He wishes he never even loved you in the first place.

Tomorrow came, those lingering gazes on each other no more, those playful banters dissipated into thin air.

He can't bring himself to confront you, too scared to accept what's become to the two of you.

“Ji— General. Documents from Madam Yukong”

The way your eyes dart to anything but him, he bit his lip anxiously, “Yes, thank you. You may leave now.”

As if nothing happened last night, you bowed your head and ran away as quickly as possible. Does he even have the courage to ask you for another game of starchess?

Days passed yet no progress. Your relationship has turned into a strictly professional one. So cold to each other, yanqing and fu xuan can't wrap their hands around what could've happened but they don't have it in them to ask what happened.

The general signed paperwork, like usual. Not noticing loud thumping footsteps nearing his desk.

“General,” a part of him wished it was your voice.

“Yes yanqing?”

“They've turned in their resignation paper”

Oh. Huh?

He thinks yanqing is joking. Not when his dear retainer thrusts the documents to his hand does he realise he's really lost you.

“For what exactly?” he asks as if he doesn't know the answer.

Yanqing sighs, “I'm not sure either, but they talked about retiring.”

“They're too young to retire,” the man scratched his head, his mind racing with a million thoughts and a million regrets.

“General, they're 630 years old”

“Oh right,” he gave his retainer a weak smile, hoping the young boy doesn't notice the uneasiness in his eyes when he read through the contents, “I shall talk to them before I approve their resignation. You may leave.”

Yanqing nods, taking his leave as Jing yuan trembles. He's lost the high-cloud quintet, does fate have to take you too in its stride, far away from him?

He was okay with just being friends with you.

Jing yuan called for you in his private garden, he didn't expect you to actually come especially after that.

“You came.”

“You called,” your eyes as empty as that one night.

He tried his best to hold back the tears, heart burning yet he had to remain professional. After all, he was your boss.

“Yanqing brought me your resignation request.” he pauses, unable to find the right words.

Normally, if an employee of his decides to resign, he'd sign away their request and carry on with his life but this— how could he just sign so easily?

“Have you not signed it yet?”

“No.” he can't bring himself to.

Your fingers found solace under the table, fiddling and fidgeting together but you'd rather die than let the man in front of you notice it, “Can't you just sign it?”

“It's just… you've been working with me since the high-cloud quintet and it's not that easy.”

“How so?”

“We’d lose an important member of society, your contributions to the mechanical team have been beneficial,” he tapped his foot aggressively, agitated. “Can't you think twice about it?”

Without hesitation, “I can't. I'm getting old, sooner or later I'd die—”

He listens, not interrupting you, “— I don't want to die without living.”

Living? What a lie. You've been more alive by his side more than anything.

“What exactly do you mean by living?”

He pretends to not understand, he wishes you'd just take him into consideration and talk to him like he was Jing yuan, not the general arbiter.

“You know what I mean,” the air sucked out of your lungs, why did he have to make you say it out loud?

“I want to live. I want to be finally free of my duties, get married, and retire.”

He nodded along with your words, he felt sick. Sicker than he ever was in his life.

“I wish you told me sooner”

“What good would it bring?”

“I just wished you were honest from the start.”

The words were once stuck again in your throat, trying to blink nonstop to not let those pathetic tears spill out, “This is for me—”

“What about me?”

Desperation laced in his tone, he wishes you'd give him a chance, that you'd let him in.

“What about you?”

You wonder, what about him? He wants to ask, what about us?

“This is about me,” neither of you could find the words, but you try.

“I want to live,” forlorn, not a glimmer of hope in your eyes, he wishes on a sliver of hope, “Is that too much to ask?”

Yet life is cruel. It was a mistake trying to be more than friends with you, again; he wished he stayed as friends with you. He would have been fine with anything.

For your own good, “I understand.”

Jing yuan reluctantly took his pen, staring at the paper. He signed.

“Thank you.”

He signed you away, at least now, there's no more need for formalities. He is no longer your boss, he is just jing yuan to you.

“I… “ his mouth snapped shut.

“No more words, general?”

As selfish as it sounds, he wants to tell you that he's willing to leave this life behind. That if you want to live, he'll live with you, if you want to marry, he'll marry you. If you want to retire, he'll retire with you.

But duty calls, he can't just stop being ‘general arbiter’ in a heartbeat for you. He wishes he could.

It's not that hot outside today, but he feels like burning.

“Ah, nothing. Where will you go now?”

“It doesn't matter, I'll just go somewhere, live alone or maybe start a new life.”

“I wish luck for your future endeavours.”

Jing yuan has never been selfish. This time however, he wishes he wasn't the general. He wishes he was just a normal man, he wishes he had the privilege, that he had the choice to be your man.

You could no longer handle being under this suffocating atmosphere, “Can I leave now?”

“By all means.”

That was the last time he talked to you, he wonders, he wishes, that he was anyone but him. Not even he could have foreseen this.

When your footsteps grew quieter as you were farther away from him, he cried.

It's been long since he's cried… years, centuries perhaps.

He's lost his family, he's lost you too. All because he wanted to be more than friends.

He wonders if you cried too, if you'd come back. It's for the best.

In due time, one of you will turn mara struck. He doesn't have the heart to see you in that state. But he wishes you gave him the chance to love you, even for just two years. A year or two is all he needs to be content.

None of that matters, he wipes his tears. Reporting back to the seat of divine foresight.

Note: not proofread so dont laugh. 😔😔😔 Before one of you bitches say, who hurt you, who hurt you? No, this is just me projecting with my cupioromantic and aromantic tendencies. ITS SO COMMON TO SEE MC BEING THE ONE GETTING REJECTEd BUT NOT THE CHARACTER GETTING REJECTED I NEED MORE FICS WITH THIS PLOT GRRRRR 😟. ITS 3:16 AM FUCK SLEEP FUCK IT ALL GRRRR

Written by @khuzena. Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. ♡

#what have i done #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr fluff #hsr x reader #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan smut #jing yuan angst #honkai star rail angst #hsr angst #jing yuan fluff #jing yuan x you #hsr smut #honkai star rail smut

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headspace-hotel · 1 year

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I think a critical flaw in the vegan’s user’s argument was that they clearly buckled down on how capitalist exploitation and overproduction factors into milk and meat markets… and then seemed to assume that vegan diets avoid capitalist pitfalls completely.

But you’ve already posted on your blog before about how crop production under capitalism has created huge environmental issues in terms of biodiversity, depletion of topsoil, and sustainability. Meaning even a non-animal diet can (especially on the scale necessary for every human being currently in existence) still create large-scale issues if that diet demands having specific foods in abundance to avoid eating meat.

Like, I’m sympathetic to what vegans want to do, it just feels like they’re ignoring a MASSIVE number of pressing logistical and environmental issues to push that agenda. There’s several intersecting problems here, and claiming humanity as a whole is poised to chuck eating animals completely seems to be jumping the gun.

This is basically exactly what I hope to convey to people. I feel like extremely pressing issues such as topsoil loss, pesticide and herbicide use, and pollution caused by nitrogen fertilizers, not to mention the severe biodiversity impacts of monoculture, are being disregarded in favor of a very simplistic "Meat is killing the Earth" argument.

And I think the "veganism to save the earth" idea is just...distracting, as a movement. I'm glad people are motivated to do it. I don't think it's bad. But we need people to take action beyond just Buy Product. Anyone telling you that the most important action you can take is Buy Different Product does not have your best interest, or the planet's best interest, in mind.

If you're eating a plant based diet, but your only relationship with your food is Buy Product, you are still alienated from the source of your food. You still don't know, and can't respect or care for, the ecosystem or the labor that gives it to you.

My agenda is far more along the lines of "society needs to be organized so more people are directly involved in growing food that feeds their community" than anything to do with animals, but it's clear to everyone who has studied it for 2 seconds that farming needs to change hugely and it's so, so much more complicated than "farming animals is bad, farming plants is good."

Also the fact is that veganism cuts you off from sources of nutrients that have been part of virtually every human society ever, a LOT of people have disabilities, allergies or nutrient absorption issues that mean going vegan isn't possible for them, and people who try to argue with me about this simply Stop knowing how to read when this is brought up. "Some people need animal protein to live" is a reality of the world but people who don't like this straight up refuse to consider it.

I have no food allergies or sensitivities, and I still struggle to eat enough food to live. I lost thirty fucking pounds in college because of stress, the dining hall being shit, and my roommate trying to control my eating habits (long story). Thats like...well over 1/5 of my body weight. Sometimes people Cannot restrict their diet safely.

Like, sure, I 85% agree with the vegans who like to comment on my posts, but the remaining 15% of things they say is completely insane.

And some of them are so out of touch with reality that they will swear up and down that it's impossible for humans to drink milk without someone having to murder a baby animal. They seem to think farming is exclusively some kind of horror show that happens in a warehouse somewhere, and don't understand the concept that "some people live in rural areas" or "it's not uncommon in some places to just keep a few dairy goats that provide milk for your family."

And if they admit this exists, it's like "well, that's not where your dairy comes from, because the INDUSTRY—" thats. that's my point, you can get milk from a farmer who keeps a small herd that is well treated, we should start doing this actually, you can even keep your OWN goat

my ideal world involves "backyard chickens and goats are legal in suburban areas where there's space" because there's literally nothing innately unethical about keeping a couple dairy goats or healthy heritage breed chickens and you can quote me on that and you can even fight me.

That one person (the one who kept bringing up eating poop) (Lord what a sentence to have to write) eventually turned to "Well those sources are wrong because governmental organizations want you to keep eating animal products" which is already well into "conspiracy theory" territory. No thanks.

#weight loss tw

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iovesia · 2 months

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Keanuverse as dads? :3 i think jw would be such a girl-dad !!

content : fem!reader. dad au. fluffies. & angst. brief mentions of abuse (not from keanuverse guys).

john wick — most definitely a girl dad! he would spoil your little girl to pieces. any barbie, dollhouse, dress, bows she wants? she gets! on valentine's day, he brings flowers for you and your daughter: his two special ladies ♡ he'd be hesitant to be strict / discipline her because of his own traumas. growing up in the ruska roma where he'd be whipped or beaten for a single mess up— he's so worried about projecting on his babygirl :(

the two of you sometimes argue about this: you wanting to be the fun-parent for once, and john's reluctance to be bad-cop sometimes. eventually he realises he can't let your daughter act out whenever her spoiled little self wants to. he's very gentle parenting coded (in a good way).

he feels so guilty he can't spend more time with you and your child. if he's still in the assasin world by the time you have a kid, he's always keeping tabs on you, or making the two of you stay at the continental for his piece of mind. winston and charon are more than happy to have you and your daughter stay in the nicest room available (they're the fun uncles!). he of course brings back gifts for you two!

great dad vibes: solid 9/10.

john constantine — oh my word .. this one's complicated. i don't think constantine would ever explicitly want kids / not want kids (he says he hasn't thought much about it). but soon enough, he greatly underestimates how much work it is to raise a child.

he's naturally a very detached person, and like most parents he'd be very stressed around the baby / toddler stage. you almost have to scold him when you catch him taking a smoke break for the fourth time in a day.

he loves his child obviously, but having not grown up with the most affectionate parents, i think he just doesn't realise how much TLC your little rascal needs. so he shows his love for your kid by at least spending time with them or teaching them stuff. constantine and you are definitely blessed with a wild child. a kid with a taste for mischief. (gets it from constantine .. obvi).

you often find constantine and your child sat together in the living room, and he's showing off explaining some cool gear or legends about his escapades. your child just giggles, asking for more! more stories! it makes your heart warm seeing your child curled up against his side, and you see that rare grin on constantine's face.

decent dad vibes: 7/10.

kevin lomax — i'm gonna be so for reals ... him having a kid with you is like 70% for image sake and 30% out of genuine desire for a kid. he loves the little guy! definitely .. just make sure he smiles when the cameras are pointed at him. like john, he's working like 24/7 and is the typical rich-dad-absent-father archetype.

it's mainly you doing a lot of the disciplining and parenting, while he's kind of the fun dad who takes everyone to disney. kevin has a lot of connections and would be so excited if your kid expressed even an inch of interest in being a lawyer. nepo baby era for your kiddo.

as physically absent as he is— nobody fucks with his kid! he's still protective over his family (ehem.. his image). if your child ever pulls some crap in school, kevin's gonna be in the principal's office, pulling that typical "we'll sue you and this damn school" bullshit. and with the devil on his side, you know damn well he'll win 😭

.. better than milton at least: 6.5/10

send me more thoughts!

#love letters.#dad au #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves imagine #john wick x reader #john constantine x reader #kevin lomax x reader #john wick fluff #john constantine fluff #*⠀john wick.#*⠀john constantine.#*⠀kevin lomax.

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entertext · 2 months

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HGSN 25-2

Chapter (Japanese)

(Please hit the green thumbs up at the end of the chapter to show support)

Rough translation by me

Dad: Before he died, Kouhei argued with the higher-ups that he wanted to be the last to do the ritual. Saying that "Unuki-sama isn't what you all think it is. The ritual's meaningless." And that was when he died in an accident.

Dad: I wonder if that was really an accident...

Yoshiki: ...

Yoshiki: ...Dad, what was it like when Hikaru's dad died?

Dad: There wasn't a single good thing about this village anymore. That's what I thought...

Yoshiki: (It's so similar, I hate it)

Dad: Yoshiki, you know, you aren't anything like me

Dad: You have your mom's strength and kindness...

Dad: so you'll grow into a better person than your dad.

Yoshiki: ...say that stuff to Mom

Yoshiki: Why don't you ever talk to her properly?

Dad: ...I'm scared to. Your mom is strong

Dad: It feels like soon there won't be a place for me to belong in this house

Yoshiki: That's so dumb

Yoshiki: ...is "belonging" that important?

Dad: People become greedy for what they've lacked. Those who couldn't eat their fill become gluttonous, and those who were starved for love want to be loved even more. I suppose someone fixated on "belonging" must not have had a place to belong.

Yoshiki: ('Hikaru' is like that too, huh...)

Dad: I have to make sure to talk to your mom too...

Yoshiki: ....yeah.

Yoshiki: Hey, Dad. ...you have a lot of books right?

Dad: Yeah...you can read them if you want

Yoshiki: ...thanks

Kaoru: *whisper* Hey, Mom, big brother and Dad are talking!

Mom: He's so quick to put on a good face in front of the children. *sighs*

Kaoru: Hmmmm

Kaoru: What's for dinner tonight?

Mom: Ginger fried pork

Kaoru: Come to think of it, ginger fried pork is Dad's favorite...

(sfx: RAIN)

(sfx: thnk)

Rie: Tsujinaka-kun...

Rie: He's become "mixed up".

Rie: Just like my son...

Hikaru: "Mixed up"?

Rie: Very rarely, there are people who, after being touched by something from the world beyond, end up with parts of it mixed up in their soul

Rie: When that happens, that person's boundary line between them and the other side becomes fuzzy...

Rie: And tons of impurities will gather to them

Rie: The impurities must want to come close because it's something within their reach.

Rie: I used to desperately protect my son who was like that...

Hikaru: If he gets any more mixed up,

Hikaru: Yoshiki will be in danger?

Rie: I don't even want to imagine what could happen...

Hikaru: ...To be honest, I can't really understand human feelings

Hikaru: Even if I know what a soul is, I don't really get the value of "life". Love, friendship, familial love...humans are so complicated.

Hikaru: For me, those are all...things I can't truly understand

Hikaru: But Yoshiki...

Hikaru: He said I didn't have to understand. That I didn't have to become human

Hikaru: That's why I...I don't want to hurt Yoshiki

Hikaru: But, if I'm around, everything becomes stranger and stranger...

Hikaru: And lately, sometimes I can't keep control of myself

Rie: Perhaps, like a weakened animal goes into a frenzy

Rie: you're instinctively affecting Tsujinaka-kun

Hikaru: Is it because I'm weakened? No...Either way, before long I'll...

Hikaru: lose to that "instinct" and take Yoshiki's soul...

P10

Rie: I suppose...it's in your nature

Rie: (This child is terrifying)

Rie: (An existence so big as to destroy everything if things go wrong)

Rie: (It's not as if there's no method I can think of)

Rie: (But, this child wants to stay here. Said he wants to protect the place he belongs)

Hikaru: Hey,

P11

Hikaru: If I go back to the mountain, will that solve everything?

Rie: ....

(sfx: nervous gulp)

Hikaru: If I do that, the impurities will decrease too,

(sfx: rain)

Hikaru: And everyone will be safe, ...and everything will go back to how it was before?

Next chapter: in a week

Twitter Extra (link):

At the hairdresser's

Mom: So I see you've just come up to Tokyo~

Dad: Yes

Mom: Isn't it tough being on your own?

Dad: I get lost a lot...and for some reason I get questioned by the police everyday...

Mom: Everyday....

Dad: Thank you

(sfx: THUNK)

Dad: Ow

(sfx: rattle)

Dad: Ah!

(sfx: clatter)

Dad: Aaah!

Mom: Ah, it's alright, I'll clean it up

Dad: I'm sorry

Mom: (Is this guy going to be ok?...)

Mom: And before I knew it, I'd married him

At the time, Yoshiki's dad had pushed his parents to let him go to a university in Tokyo

There, he met Yoshiki's mom who was working as a hairdresser

EDIT: Changed the wording one of Rie's lines and one of Yoshiki's in 23-4 because it seemed to be getting interpreted in a way that wasn't my intent. Hopefully, this reads a little better...

#hikaru ga shinda natsu #the summer hikaru died #hgsn spoilers #theres been an awful lot of fuss lately but i am still here :)

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jalluzas-ferney · 3 months

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Soooo….I made some nationality headcannons! At first I was a liiittle bit unsure if to do so cuz then again.. they live in ninjago…. And im pretty sure countries like argentina or Morocco don’t quite exist in the ninjago universe LMAO. Butttttt. Already seen others make headcannons, so hell, why not? I uses they apply to some irl au or what if they lived in our world uk? And what different countries would I see them coming from and etc.

I can imagine that the EM might have travelled all over the world, either to go into hiding, or missions, or escape conflict, etc. Or maybe simply that’s where they came from! So yeah that’s my little explanation that is mostly for myself cuz im a little bit too literal sometimes lol.

When thinking about nationality I always think a lot about where they grew up and what nationality they grew up with and would later on identify with the most. It’s a complicated concept when your parents are from a different nationality and theyre immigrants in a different country- so you grow up in this country, surrounded by this culture and people, but your. Also. Raised by your parents who also have your family living in this completely different country- where you also find home and relate to the people considering how you look, the language you speak with your parents- or the specific culture and environment your parents grew up wiooith, impacting your home life and the way your raised. Perhaps you lived in both places, or travel a lot to your parents homeland. Perhaps you live in one of your parents countries but the other. Not. but you still identify with one of your parents nationality because of the rest of your family from that side and the culture your take in from them. So it’s always very personal! So for Kai and Nya, I imagined that ray was Argentinian and Maya Filipino. And perhaps - because I want to project onto my faves- they were born and grew up in Argentina. But have always also identified a lot with their mothers homeland, since not only does their race impact the way they might feel more different and set apart from kids there, maya loves talking about her childhood in the Philippines and is always talking over the phone with their aunts and cousins, meaning Kai and Nya def were taught some Tagalog, tho theyre not incredibly fluid with it. In their early teens they probably travelled to the Philippines, (took ray and maya some time to settle down and get enough money to travel, as well as find time) and met their whole family, and the place they reside in, habit that would turn quite common as they would continue to travel other times the following years.

For Lloyd, I really wanted to make him Asian -Brazilian. It just felt right. So imagined that my queen (don’t you judge her >:() Misako would be Brazilian, meanwhile Garmadon,Japanese. i imagine that Misako adores traveling, so she met Garmadon on her trip to Japan, and decided to stay there for a WHILE because of the brothers. During her time there, she had Lloyd. Since her family heard of her new baby, she travelled back to Brazil with a two y/o Lloyd to have her family meet the him and catch up overall. but as the serpentine wars rose In japan (ill hc it happened in japan let me know what u think of that) Misako was told to wait in Brazil. Misako didn’t really like that though, and while she dreaded having to leave her son, she was sure shed come back soon after helping out the Brothers in the battle against the serpentine. So Lloyd was left to live with his aunties and grandparents in Brazil. Of course, after Misako found out about the whole Green Ninja thing and all that crap, she pulled the same stunt as in the series and ✨ vanished ✨. But then Garmadon came and fucking took him like divorced parents sometimes do uk? So then he spent some other of his childhood years growing up in, ya guessed it, Japan. This is how Lloyd identifies both with being a Brazilian and Japanese. As for the rest, I just envision that they lived in their respective countries their whole lives till they were recruited!

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invisibletoothpasteman · 9 months

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Something that is completely unserious but I just need to get off my chest is how people mistake complicated family dynamics as something inherently bad and therefore gravitate towards something completely stripped of any real complexity.

While I know this applies to lots of fandoms, I'm thinking specifically in regards to Batman comics.

With the rise in popularity of comics over the past little while since their decline in popularity in the 2000s there has naturally become an increase in their fandom as well, especially for Batman and the batfam. Don't get me wrong, this is great news. The comic industry NEEDS all the readers it can get and the renaissance of sorts it's been going through really shows hope for the future of comics. And with a growing fandom comes more people introduced to these characters through the fandom itself rather than the source material, which again, is a good thing.

What grinds my gears is how throughout this fandom theres been this whole idea spread that in the comics Bruce Wayne is always a shitty parent, the batfam is hardly a family, that the fanon version of him is what we deserve and is the "superior" version of him.

This fanon version of bruce (and the batfam as a whole) is perfect. He's not perfect in the sense that he's perfectly characterized. He's not perfect in the sense that he never makes mistakes. No, he's perfect in the sense that when he makes a mistake, he can flawlessly atone for it. There's conflict sure, but whenever there is some amazing therapist-approved communication is put right into play, the batfam talks about their feelings, and boom everyone is happy.

The thing is in reality that's just not how things work. Relationships are messy, especially family. Resolving conflict is messy. This is all especially true when you apply it to a family of messed-up vigilantes that go through incredibly stressful, emotional, and just plain crazy things on the daily.

The lack of always perfectly solved conflict is what makes stuff interesting. It allows for nuance in characters and situations that there isn't normally room for if everything is designed to be wrapped up in a sweet little bow.

I feel like a lot of people see the comics solely as batman being shitty and the rest of the batfam not really being a family and just overall poor story choices. While I can't deny that sometimes there are really poor or ooc choices made (such is the nature when so many different creators get to work on the same group of characters) for the most part batman in the comics is portrayed as he should be: well meaning, but far from perfect. The rest of the batfam is similarly flawed. Their relationships with each other are far from perfect but such is the nature of family. It's messy, it's imperfect but going through all of that makes it more compelling.

While I still definitely enjoy the simplified version of the batfam from time to time and am glad so many others do too, I think it's a disservice to say its the better version of them. as much fun as wfa or the like can be, they're not able to portray the same complexity as the stories that have the batfam with their flaws and all. It's still possible to tell heartwarming and fun stories in comics where everyone is heavily flawed and nuanced.

That being said really i'm glad people are able to enjoy these characters no matter how they're presented. Goodness knows that everyone should absolutely be indulging in little things in life even if that is ooc batfam. Just consider if you're still new to batman and only familiar with the fandom getting out there and reading some comics because they're pretty great.

(sorry this whole thing was written in a sleep deprived rant state, don't take it too seriously)

#batman #bruce wayne #dc comics #dc #damian wayne #bat family #wayne family adventures #wfa webtoon #wfa #anti wfa #comics #nightwing #dick grayson #red hood #jason todd #red robin #tim drake #robin dc #cassandra cain

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tonyspank · 9 months

Text

CHAPTER THREE | RECKLESS

Tara Carpenter x G!P Reader x Female OC

Warnings: kissing, fluff, short chapter because i want u guys to be happy one last time

series masterlist | main masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

SEVEN MONTHS LATER

It's been seven months since Tara and Sam brought you back to their community. You've settled into a routine and formed close bonds with the people there. Life has become more stable, and you feel a sense of belonging that you haven't felt in a long time. The community has become your new family, and you couldn't be more grateful for Tara and Sam.

Sometimes you'd go on supply runs; other times you'd take out groups of walkers, clearing the area around the community to ensure everyone's safety. The once terrifying world has become a place where you can make a difference, and you're determined to protect your new family at all costs.

You've grown close to Sidney, Tara, and Ethan the most. Sidney has become the aunt you've never had, always offering wise advice and comforting you during tough times. Ethan has become like a brother to you, always looking out for your well-being and making sure you never feel alone.

While Tara...she's... you don't even know how to explain it. She's a close friend, but at times it feels like there's something more to that, a deeper connection that you can't quite put into words. There's a magnetic pull between the two of you, an unspoken understanding that transcends friendship. It's both exhilarating and terrifying, leaving you questioning the boundaries of your relationship and what it could potentially become.

But, you don't want to risk anything. Especially since Iris is here. It feels weird to move on from her because, since the start of this apocalypse, the only thing you could think of was Iris and how much you missed your girlfriend. But, it doesn't seem like she feels the same way. You'd catch her and Chad being intimate and affectionate, making it clear that she has moved on.

Heather told you that Chad and Iris have been a complicated couple since they met at the community. Iris was stuck on you while Chad was pursuing her relentlessly. He even saved her life one day on a dangerous mission, which made her start to develop feelings for him. It's painful to accept, but it seems like Iris has found happiness with Chad, and it's time for you to do the same.

It's hard to accept that Iris has chosen someone else, but you know deep down that you can't force someone to feel a certain way. You deserve someone who loves you wholeheartedly and reciprocates your feelings. It may be difficult now, but with time, you will find someone who appreciates and cherishes you just as much as you do them.

"Ouch!" You grunt out, landing on your back. Ethan smiles at you, panting as he holds out a hand to help you up. You send him a playful glare before taking his hand and allowing him to pull you up. "How are you so good at close-range combat?"

You ask, still catching your breath. Ethan chuckles and says, "Cop dad. He taught me a few moves growing up," he explains, wiping the sweat off his forehead. "But ever since, you know, the dead and stuff, he's been on my ass about it."

You hum in response, "That's nice. Officer Bailey seems like a nice guy...when he's not sulking around the place." Ethan nods in agreement, a hint of sadness in his eyes. "Yeah, he's been through a lot. Losing Mom really hit him hard. But he's trying his best to keep us safe and sane in this messed up world."

You give him a sympathetic smile, understanding the weight Officer Bailey carries on his shoulders. Despite the tough exterior, you can see the love and dedication he has for his family.

"C'mon! Chop, chop." Dewey says, interrupting your conversation and urging you two to spar more. You and Ethan exchange a knowing glance before playfully rolling your eyes at Dewey's impatience. You hold up your fists again, ready to continue the sparring session.

After about twenty more minutes of sparring, the session is finally over, and you're sitting cross-legged on the grass, catching your breath. Dewey walks over, a satisfied grin on his face, and pats both you and Ethan on the back. "Great job, guys," he says. "You're really improving." You exchange a proud smile with Ethan as Dewey walks away.

"I have a very serious question." You look at Ethan, curious about what he's going to ask. "What is it?" you reply, eager to hear what's on his mind. "Did you take my pudding from inventory?" You raise an eyebrow in surprise at Ethan's question. "Your pudding? No, I didn't take it," you answer honestly, wondering why he would think that.

Ethan thins out his lips, eyeing you suspiciously. He then sighs as he senses your genuine confusion. "It must've been Chad then! Ever since we've been returning from supply runs, every single one of my sweet snacks has disappeared." You tilt your head, considering Ethan's accusation. "Chad? Are you sure it's him?" you ask, curious about the possible culprit.

Ethan nods, frustration evident on his face. "I've noticed him eyeing my snacks before, and he always seems to have a guilty look when I ask about them," he explains. You hum a bit before turning your head to Tara, who was walking down the community's street, looking bored as ever.

"I'll talk to you later, E." Ethan nods in response, a small smile playing on his lips as he watches you jog over to Tara. "Hey, Tara."

"Hey, what's up?" Tara responds, smiling at you. "Not much, just wanted to ask if you maybe wanna hang out outside the walls for a bit." Tara shrugs, her smile never fading. "Sure, why not?"

"Cool, let me just shower, and I'll be ready to go." You quickly make your way back to your house, taking a quick shower before meeting up with Tara again. She greets you with a warm smile, her excitement evident in her eyes. "Ready?" she asks, her voice filled with anticipation.

You nod eagerly, "Mhm." You wave at Officer Hicks, who salutes back to you, opening the gate for you and Tara to exit the walls. You and Tara start walking away from the community, stealing glances at each other every now and then.

"I actually have a surprise for you." You say, breaking the comfortable silence. Tara raises an eyebrow, looking at you. Curiosity sparkles in her eyes as she waits for you to reveal the surprise. "Well, remember how you mentioned you liked horror movies?" you begin, a mischievous grin spreading across your face.

"I found this abandoned movie theatre not too far from here. Ethan helped me clean it up and fix the projector. We can have our own private horror movie marathon today."

Tara's eyes widen with thrill as she realizes the surprise. "You're lying!" she exclaims, her smile matching your mischievous grin. The two of you quicken your pace, eager to reach the movie theatre and begin your thrilling movie night.

"What's your favorite scary movie?" You ask Tara in a Ghostface mask, trying your best to imitate the iconic killer from the Stab franchise. Tara giggles and playfully pretends to be scared, but then responds, "Hmm, I think I'll have to go with It Follows. Elevated horror is where it's at."

You take off the mask, tilting your head. "Really? Elevated horror? What about Friday the 13th? Jason is a classic." Tara shrugs, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Sure, Jason is iconic, but I prefer the psychological depth and thought-provoking themes of films like It Follows. It's all about the slow-burning suspense for me."

"You're lucky you're cute." Tara chuckles and playfully nudges you. "Well, I guess my good looks give me an advantage in our horror movie debates." She winks, teasingly adding, "But hey, maybe one day I'll convince you to appreciate elevated horror too."

"Blah, blah, blah." You say, walking further into the movie theatre, ending up at a snack bar. You lean against it as Tara continues her argument about elevated horror. "Jason is just a mindless slasher. It Follows actually makes you think and keeps you on the edge of your seat." Tara playfully sticks her tongue out at you, daring you to challenge her taste in horror movies.

Rolling your eyes, you retort, "Please, Tara. A classic slasher film like Friday the 13th is a timeless masterpiece. It's all about the thrill and suspense, not overanalyzing every single detail. But hey, I'll give It Follows a chance if it means shutting you up for once." Tara giggles, knowing that you're just playing along and secretly enjoying the ongoing debates between you two.

You turn around, facing the snack bar, and reach for the old and expired candy box, that's probably been there since before the apocalypse. Your heart skips a beat when Tara does the same, your hands touching.

You both exchange a quick glance, causing a slight blush to creep onto your cheeks. It's in these small moments that you realize there might be something more than just friendly banter between you and Tara.

"You can have them." You tell Tara, chuckling a bit. She smiles, placing the box of candy in your hand. "Take them." You shake your head, "No, uh," you interrupt yourself with your own laugh. "If you want them, you have them." You set down the box of candy in front of Tara, who quickly picks it up, holding it in front of you.

"You think I want these?" Tara raises an eyebrow playfully, her eyes sparkling. She breaks eye contact with you as you stare at her, a lingering smile on your face. "Kind of..."

"They're like one hundred years old." she jokes, setting them back down. "Maybe that's your thing," she mutters, finally glancing back at your eyes.

The two of you stare at each other, caught in a moment of playful tension. The air between you is charged with unspoken words and a hint of curiosity. It's as if time has momentarily frozen, allowing the anticipation to build. Both of you are aware of the unspoken connection, wondering where it might lead.

It's been a while since you've been truly happy with someone, so happy that your cheeks hurt from smiling so much, so lost in the trance of the woman in front of you. She was perfect. Her perfect hair, her perfect eyebrows, her perfect eyes, her perfect nose, her perfect lips. Everything about her seemed meticulously crafted to perfection.

You smile wider at yourself, glancing between her eyes and her lips. Tara's heart has never felt this alive, pulsating with newfound energy. She knows she's attracted to you, that much is sure, but there's something more than just physical attraction.

It's the way you listen intently to every word she says and the way you laugh at her jokes as if they're the funniest things you've ever heard. There's a connection between you that goes beyond surface-level beauty, and it's that deep emotional bond that truly sets you apart from anyone else she's ever met.

But she's also scared. She's scared to get attached to you more than she already is and lose you to the walkers that lurk in the shadows. The fear of losing you to something beyond her control haunts her, making her hesitant to fully embrace the connection she feels.

She knows that the world is unpredictable and filled with dangers, and the thought of losing you to those uncertainties terrifies her. It's not that she doesn't want to fully embrace the connection, but rather, she's grappling with her own vulnerabilities and the fear of being left alone in a world that feels increasingly unstable.

However, another part of her says to do it. Take the risk and allow her to be happy, even if it's just for a second. Tara takes a deep breath, "I actually—"

She's cut off by you connecting your lips with hers, and in that moment, all her fears and uncertainties melt away. The warmth of your embrace reassures her that maybe, just maybe, taking the risk was worth it after all. Her hands grip your face, pulling you closer if that were possible, you wrap your arms around her body, holding her tightly as if she's going to fade away.

As your lips part, an intoxicating sense of contentment lingers in the air. Tara stares into your eyes, a hint of tears reflecting the depth of her gratitude. In that electrifying moment, she realizes that she has found something she never thought possible—a passion that is boundless and worth every ounce of risk. With a smile curving on her lips, she whispers, "What took you so long?"

You chuckle softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I finally thought of that heartfelt thank you," you reply, your voice filled with bliss. Tara giggles, her laughter filling the air like music. "I can't believe you remember that."

She leans in closer, bringing you into another quick and simple kiss. When she pulls away, her eyes glance between yours, her hand trailing your facial features. "I'm scared of losing you."

You gently take her hand in yours, reassuringly squeezing it. "I promise you, Tara, I'm not going anywhere," you say sincerely, your voice filled with love and determination. She smiles softly, her fears momentarily eased by your words.

"I actually do have a question." You tilt your head, waiting for her to continue. "Was...Iris the only person you had before...the outbreak?" You pause for a moment, memories of the past flooding your mind.

"Kind of...yeah. It's always just been Iris and her family. I actually met Iris a few months after my adoptive mother passed away...she was the first person I connected with after such a difficult loss. We quickly became each other's support system, and we started dating a bit after that.." You pause, a bittersweet smile on your face, as you recall the bond you share with Iris. "I'm just glad she's okay."

Tara nods, her eyes filled with understanding. "Thank you for telling me." You appreciate Tara's empathy and the safe space she has created for you to share your story. It feels good to have someone who listens and understands without judgment.

"You're finally back!" Heather says, bursting through your front door. You turn toward Heather, a smile spreading across your face. "I am." Heather lets out a loud groan, "Then can you please watch Iris? I'm supposed to be hanging out with Amber."

You furrow your eyebrows, "What's wrong with Iris?" You ask, concerned about Heather's sudden change in attitude towards Iris. Heather sighs and rolls her eyes, "She's sick, and she's been acting really cranky all day. I just need a break from her for a little while. So! Now that you're off your date with tiny Tara, can you watch her?"

You blush, "It wasn't a date," you mutter, not convincing Heather one bit. "But sure, I can watch Iris for a bit. Is there anything specific I should know or do while taking care of her?"

Heather shakes her head and says, "Not really, just make sure she takes her medicine and gets plenty of rest. She's been running a fever, so keep an eye on that too." You nod, assuring Heather that you'll take good care of Iris.

Heather exits your house, causing Amber to rise, "She said yes?" Amber asks her girlfriend, who nods in response. "Mhm," Amber continues, "I can't believe you're still trying to play cupid with Y/N and Iris. I'm pretty sure Y/N really likes Tara."

"Well, you never know. Sometimes feelings can change unexpectedly. Besides, Y/N did agree to take care of Iris, so maybe there's still a chance for them." Amber rolls her eyes playfully and says, "Sure, babe."

You knock on Iris's door, and a faint, "Come in." follows your knock. As you enter, you see Iris lying in bed, a wet washcloth on her forehead. You walk over to Iris and ask, "How are you feeling?" She looks up at you with a weak smile and replies, "I'm still not feeling great, but the washcloth is helping a bit." You sit down beside her and say, "I brought you some soup. Maybe it'll help you feel better."

You help her sit up, supporting her back with a pillow. Iris gratefully accepts the soup and takes a few spoonfuls, savoring the warmth and nourishment. She looks at you appreciatively and says, "Thank you so much for taking care of me." You smile and reassure her, "Of course, I'll always be here for you."

"Did Heather set you up to this?" She asks, a faint smile on her lips. You chuckle and shake your head, "Yeah, but still, I just wanted to make sure you're okay." Iris's smile widens, and she says, "Well, I'm lucky to have you in my life."

"Remember when Heather got sick and we all took turns taking care of her? It's nice to see that we have each other's backs." Iris says, not making eye contact with you. You start laughing, And it turns out she was faking the whole thing."

Iris's brows furrow, "What?" Your eyes widen, and your jaw drops. "Yeah, she admitted it later. I didn't know she didn't tell you." Iris's smile fades, replaced by a look of disbelief. "I can't believe she would do something like that. That's really messed up."

"I mean...she did have to run the mile that day, I'd do the same thing." You shrug, trying to lighten the mood. "Well, I guess we all have our own ways of avoiding running." Iris chuckles, shaking her head. "Yeah, but faking sick behind my back? That's a whole new level." You both laugh, finding peace in the moment.

Iris puts down her soup and stares at you. "You look happy." You smile back at Iris and reply, "Yeah, I guess I am. It feels good to just relax and have a laugh with you. You look like shit, though."

Iris chuckles and rolls her eyes. "Thanks, I appreciate the honesty. It's been a rough day." You nod sympathetically, understanding that it's because of her sickness. "Maybe you should try and sleep." You suggest, helping her lie back down. Iris sighs and nods, her eyes showing exhaustion.

"Yeah, maybe you're right. I could use some rest." You tuck her in and dim the lights, creating a soothing atmosphere. "I'll stay here with you until you fall asleep," you offer, hoping to provide some comfort during her rough day.

"You could lay down too..." Iris mumbles, her voice trailing off as she starts to drift off. You hesitate for a moment, considering her suggestion, before deciding to join her. As you lie down next to her, you feel a sense of closeness and reassurance, knowing that your presence brings her some ease.

Iris places her head on your chest, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat. The sound lulls her into a deeper state of relaxation, and you can feel her tension slowly melting away. You gently stroke her hair, and mutter, "You better not get me sick."

Iris chuckles softly, her voice barely audible as she whispers, "Don't worry, I'll take care of you if that happens."

When Iris finally falls asleep, it's late at night. You slip from her grasp and leave, making your way to the inventory to see if there's any tea that could help her. Your heart drops when you see a figure standing in the dimly lit room, their back turned towards you.

They turn around quickly, and you let out a sigh, allowing yourself to relax. "Richie, you scared the hell out of me." Richie chuckles and apologizes, "Sorry about that. I didn't mean to startle you." Your eyes fall to the basket in his hands.

He notices speaking up, "Gale asked me to get this." You hum, "Do you have any tea? Iris is sick." Richie nods sympathetically and says, "Yeah, yeah. Here." He reaches into the basket and hands you a small packet of tea. "I hope this helps," he says with a warm smile.

Richie then walks away, basket in hand, leaving you standing there, thankful and confused. Maybe he was the one who stole Ethan's snacks.

#reader insert #wattpad #tonyspank #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega fluff #tara carpenter scream #tara carpenter x g!p reader #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x gn!reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x fem reader #tara carpenter fluff

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 month

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AITA for accepting money/gifts from my mom?

(🦭🐟 to help find later)

Ok bear with me here because this is a serious question w/ some context even though the question doesn't seem bad.

My (19NB) mom (54F) is not a very good parent. Things were not great when I was a kid, to say the least. It's complicated to get into so I'm gonna glaze over most of it and say I plan to go low/no contact when I'm older and can afford to support myself on my own. For now I'm amicable since I need help while getting through college. This has been my plan for a WHILE but I've started to feel a little guilty?

My biggest issue with my mom is the way that she treats/treated my siblings. Sometimes she gets on my nerves but I know I have the privilege of being the youngest (and the favorite) therefore my parents don't pull the same kind of bullshit with me. For example one of my siblings had family therapy with her, and she would frequently not show up and leave them to do the exercises with the other families in the group session that they didn't know. She also complained about their suicide attempt. She talks down to my oldest sister because she couldn't pursue the medical career my parents wanted because she couldn't deal with the cadavers, and since she spent her whole education trying to reach their standards she's been lost trying to figure out what she wants for herself, and my parents keep harping on her for not having a career plan and being "useless". This is only the tip of the iceberg, and it's plenty enough for me to feel justified in my decision to eventually go no contact. I am not asking if AITA for cutting her off, that is not where the guilt is.

It's always been the case that instead of directly saying she was wrong my mom would spend a lot of money on us and buy gifts (usually stuff she likes and not what we like, but I figured out I could leverage her guilt to buy specific things bc free stuff ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ even if I don't forgive her). I think this is because she didn't have much money growing up so now she's a shopaholic now that she has the money to do so (both my parents are in the medical field so they are far from poor. abt upper middle class). She also keeps defending our uncle despite us bringing up how he's creepy and pervy and makes us uncomfortable, and she has some... interesting political takes (like defending the price of insulin being so high???)

My mom I think has been trying to be better but she still never apologizes for any of her actions and is guilt trippy by saying stuff abt how we all think shes a bad mom that caused all her kids to be depressed and suicidal. So its not enough of an improvement for me to forgive her, but I do notice that she walks away from situations sometimes rather than blow her fuse, and she's more tolerant of my ADHD and queerness than she used to be. And she's been trying to be more supportive of me and my decision to pursue an art career. I do believe that people can get better and change themselves, I just think in the case of my mom it's too little too late (and she hasn't improved her relationship with my siblings as much). I've also been polite and friendly since I'm still living with her.

So like, this combined with me accepting her gifts makes me think I'm leading her on? Like she thinks that she's salvaging a relationship with one of her kids and that I'll stay. And I feel a little bad about that. Like if it was JUST the gifts I would feel no guilt bc if she thinks she can bribe her way into our good graces without changing her behavior than shes gonna be down money and still have no kids. But shes trying to improve, albeit slowly and not when we needed her, but better nonetheless. So it feels less "this is the least she could do given the trauma" and more "i feel like i'm taking advantage of her".

One of my siblings refuses to accept her money on principle (they've already moved out) and it makes me think I should probably do the same, but also i dont know if I can since I don't have a job yet and I'm still in school, so maybe just refuse the gifts thing? But neither of my siblings seem to have an issue with my relationship with her, so maybe I shouldn't feel bad? She's treating me better so I feel I have less justification for using her wealth for my own benefit, even if I still don't forgive her for how she treated my siblings.

Basically, AITA for still accepting guilt money/gifts from my shitty mom despite planning on cutting her off later on?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #suicide cw

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mamawasatesttube · 2 months

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So i was just rotating your "Jack drake lives au" in my mind and at the same time remembered those panels of superman shaking hands with Some Fucking Guy (i think he was being a bitch to Lois or smth) and he makes direct unflinching eye contact with the tight lipped smile and his grip is a little too tight to be friendly

Anyways im not saying he hates Jack but i do think Kon off-handedly mentioned the "joke" about his nail polish and Clark went "oh really now?" And didnt forget

So rip Jack at that family dinner night bc not only is Lois waiting for an excuse to obliterate him but Clark is right there with her and if jack thinks that Good Ol Country folk Ma and Pa will back him up then hes in for a surprise lol

oh yeah absolutely!!!! the thing is. literally Nobody likes jack in this au ksjdhfkd like kon and dick absolutely have texted each other to bitch about him, ma openly shakes her head when she hears about how he treats tim (and she WILL speak her mind if he ever tries to shut that sweet boy down in front of her!), cass literally won't speak to him bc he failed the vibe check so bad, etc...

and like. no one is telling tim this. they Know it'll make him feel like he has to defend his dad bc he loves him! but sometimes tim mentions oh he can't join for games this friday night, he and his dad are going on an early morning fishing trip. and cass just meets kon's eyes across the room behind tim's back and rolls her eyes so hard.

but yeah. clark will mostly let lois handle the obliteration with ma's backup as needed bc he knows she's got this. his form of expressing his severe disapproval of jack, his views, and his parenting? supporting tim. thanking him for doing the dishes after dinner, praising his work ethic, ruffling his hair and telling him he did a great job with that case he wrapped up last week, etc. it makes tim go "!!! :D!!!" like that pic of the cat getting patted. tim has always craved approval and affirmation and affection from people around him and he gets it in spades from the kents. and jack sees his son light up and open up around these people way more than he does with him. it's not a good feeling.

it's just tough bc like, tim doesn't want anyone getting mad at jack. but the idea of anyone getting mad at jack on his behalf is also just such a shock to him. he's not used to that. he feels like he has to manage jack and be responsible for him in a lot of ways (if jack says something shitty in front of lois, tim cringes because now jack is gonna get his ass handed to him and feel humiliated, and that's his dad and he was trying to help, and also he feels like it's on him that his dad is being like that. why? oh you know.) (its the unnamed emotional abuse, thats why.)

but also clark and kon watch lois ask tim how his degree is going now that he's in engineering school, and lightly rib him and ask if she can't poach him into investigative journalism instead, because she doesn't usually take interns but she'd make an exception! and tim cocks his head like a dog and says well, maaaybe he'd be down to consider an internship if she's serious? it does sound cool. what are the details? and jack, who barely gets more than one-word answers when he talks to tim about his future, is just kinda seething. heart rate goin up bc hes mad. and kon and clark just exchange extremely amused glances across the kitchen and sip their hot chocolates.

like the tim and jack dynamic is complicated; it'd be a lot easier if the love wasn't so real but it is present. its just that jack is soooo emotionally immature and grounded in Classic American Manhood and ideas of fatherhood. and the fact that tim is growing beyond that and not fitting in the mold he's "supposed" to eats at him. its a tragedy but also we are all pointing and laughing at jack every time superfam make him grind his teeth.

#answers #peacheel #jack drake lives au #tim #clark #jack drake

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mermaidlighthouse · 5 months

Text

Why I think Izzy’s death was actually necessary despite me being sad about losing my favorite* character…

So I am once again looking to reframe a moment/scene involving Izzy around Ed because as much as Izzy was his own character (with a wonderful redemption arc) his function in the narrative imo is as an extension of the Blackbeard persona and therefore Ed and his perception of himself

Ok so this is gonna be long but I think it’s necessary to frame this properly

Izzy and Ed’s relationship is one of misery loving company and instead of finding ways to legitimately pull each other up and heal from whatever brought you to that place it turns to one of toxicity where you either repress the trauma (Ed never telling anyone that he killed his father, that he feels like a monster) or express it in ways that only perpetuate the misery. At this point that constant cycle of misery is so familiar it can be difficult for the participants to recognize what they’re doing to themselves and each other and it’s difficult to not fall back into those patterns.

So while Izzy is making strides and having his arc, instead of saying to Ed maybe don’t go looking for darkness when you’re standing in the light, don’t look for trouble or problems that don’t exist just because that’s what you’ve come to expect he says maybe you’re just a mopey twat and there isn’t a fuckin storm, when Ed does apologize for his leg Izzy’s only response is fuck off.

They can’t communicate with each other effectively and it’s already caused issues. When Izzy tells Ed to listen to the feeling of throwing away the trappings of Blackbeard, Ed does but he has also been told by Izzy that Ed isn’t good enough so why would Stede want him now that he’s not gonna be Blackbeard. I think Izzy meant well and had the right sentiment but the fact is that the damage of what they do to each other has already been done. Izzy doesn’t just represent the devil on Ed’s shoulder, he’s the voice in his head telling him he’s worthless without Blackbeard.

So could the narrative have just said Izzy went off on his own or went with the crew in the end? imho no they couldn’t because in order to have a healthy relationship with Stede, and just to be a generally well adjusted person Ed needs to love himself and the constant knowledge that his self loathing can just pop up out of nowhere (something explicitly shown as an Izzy staple) won’t allow him that freedom. (I recognize this isn’t how self development/self esteem works irl but this is a dark comedy rom com just let some things be hand wavy.)

Sometimes the best way to help each other grow and be whole is to recognize that you need to let the other person go. That’s true for BOTH of them.

Izzy dying was the only way they could finally communicate honestly without the jibes and the looming Blackbeard of it all they could just talk to each other as family as people who love each other (this is not my ship and I have a serious issue with the lack of nuanced takes on love in this fandom but that’s a separate issue).

To give Izzy some grace here I would like to point out that his story can also be seen as one that tells the audience that toxic people in your life or people you have complicated relationships with are allowed to grow on their own and make positive changes for themselves BUT that does not mean you have to accept them back in your life, you are not required to give them space after they’ve wronged you. You can celebrate their growth but you don’t owe them anything. Ed can recognize that Izzy has changed but he was never going to fully excise Izzy from his life he’s too familiar and too much a darkness to hide in and it would have created more toxic situations. So yes Izzy had to die.

*I always mean favorite side character because my favorite character is EdStede/StedeEd. If you don’t love them, together and separately then you don’t love the show because this is their story

#yes I still cry whenever I watch this scene #I’m also masochistic enough that I added Du Gamla to my playlist #and I cry about that too #this may end up just being for me but I needed to get it out of my head #izzy hands #the new unicorn #edward teach #ed teach #blackbeard #stede bonnet #the gentleman pirate #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #ed x stede #our flag means death #ofmd season 2 #ofmd s2 #ofmd

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sailforvalinor · 11 months

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As I've finally finished Ten's run...my thoughts on all of Ten's companions (in an order that makes sense to no one but me)

Martha:

I have...complicated feelings about Martha. I'm going to be honest, for her first few episodes, I did not like her all that much. Of course, the thing is, you're almost not supposed to like her at first. One of my favorite things about series 3 and 4 is that Rose very much haunts the narrative--you can feel her presence in Ten's thoughts, how her absence informs his decisions, almost as if she never left. Martha's role, at least in those first few episodes, is to make us miss Rose. She's a plot device. I don't think this is the case for the rest of the season, she has a lot of compelling things going for her character--her complicated relationship with her family and her desire to travel with Ten partially being due to her wanting to escape their chaos were really interesting. Also, her studying to be a doctor while traveling with the Doctor could have been a fascinating plot point if it had been utilized more often--but unfortunately, I think everything her character had going for it was too often muddied up by the "one-sided pining for Ten" plotline. I'm by no means opposed to the plotline in and of itself, I actually quite like it, but halfway through the season it started to get annoying to me. Like, I get it, him kissing her in episode 1 and then asking her to travel with him is really confusing, that's totally understandable, but after that long of traveling with the guy and him making it extremely clear that he doesn't like her like that...like, girl. Give it a rest.

(Not that Ten is entirely blameless in this situation--this man has never heard of a healthy coping mechanism. He just wanted Martha to travel with him because he was lonely, nothing else, but didn't make that clear at all. His refusal to even acknowledge her feelings, which he was perfectly aware of, and have a healthy conversation about it wasn't helping matters.)

I loved how they handled her exit in Series 3, however--I loved how Martha acknowledged that their relationship wasn't healthy for either of them, and that she needed to get out. (Ten staring as his shoes in that scene...gosh...)

And, with the one-sided pining plotline out of the way, I loved her appearances in Series 4! I loved how she actually got to be a doctor and do cool stuff! Also, I know her ending up with Mickey in the end is a very blatant Pair the Spares move, but have you considered: I do not care. I love them. They are so cute. (Didn't Martha have a fiancé in Series 4 though? What happened to him? Did he die or something and I missed it?)

Also, Martha is the most obvious example of what the Dalek's argue in the Series 4 finale--that the Doctor cannot help but make his companions into soldiers.

Donna:

Donna!!! I'll admit, I was pretty neutral about her in her first appearance--but I was so excited to have her back in Series 4. It was a breath of fresh air to have a companion who was very clearly a friend rather than another love interest, and her dynamic with Ten was so different than with any other companion. Their banter was so entertaining, and her lack of tact, though it got her into trouble sometimes, enabled her to say important things to Ten that Rose avoided saying for fear of jeopardizing their relationship, and Martha would have regulated to passive-aggressive muttering under her breath. (Thinking of "you talk all the time, but you never say anything" -esque conversations.) She cuts through Ten's bluster with relative ease, and it's fascinating to watch.

I also love that her traveling with the Doctor helps her grow as a person, flying in the face of Ten's belief that he destroys everything he touches--until the memory wipe, of course. Still, the Doctor Donna is still in there. (Also, was I supposed to think that the woman in white in The End of Time was Donna? That's what I assumed, but I'm not sure if I'm right.)

Rose:

Believe it or not, when I was thirteen years old and tried to watch Doctor Who for the first time, I did not like Rose Tyler. I thought that Rose was annoying, and that Nine was too angry and scary. (Thirteen year old me only got as far as The Doctor Dances, forgive her.)

I liked her much better the second go-round--I think the moment I was really sold on her character was her whole Bad Wolf moment, which makes sense. Her character growth throughout the series is by far my favorite, though I'm not sure I could tell you why. I'm going to try, though!

I think one thing that's pretty easy to forget about Rose is that she begins as quite a similar character to Donna, in that she doesn't have all that much going for her in her day-to-day life--she didn't do all that well in school, didn't go to university, is working at a department store (a job which she loses in the first episode), is living with her caring but rather foolish mother, and is dating a well-intentioned but pretty immature guy. It's a little startling at first glance how quickly she's totally on-board with traveling with the Doctor and being in so much danger all the time (even before she's in love with him), but it makes sense when you consider how little there is left for her at home. There's her mother, there's Mickey. That's it. And once she's seen the beauty of the universe, despite how dangerous it is, she just can't go back.

Just how sold-out she is for Ten (and vice-versa) is one of my favorite things, but also, one of her greatest strengths is her empathy. She's not brilliant like Martha, or a soldier like Jack, or a Time Lord-to be like Donna. What she has is a compassion that allows her to connect with all kinds of people--with a dying Dalek, with a terror-inducing little boy who is really just looking for his mother, with a housewife who is terrified of her abusive husband, even with a time-traveling man responsible for a war-ending genocide of millions.

I'm not going to go too much into Tenrose here (because I talk about it enough on this blog), but I find it so interesting that Rose represents healing to both Nine and Ten. Ten makes it very clear in the Series 4 finale that Rose saved him from himself--and not even intentionally, just by being who she is. Her influence on him is just that strong. (Please excuse me while I weep.)

As I mentioned earlier, I love how in Series 3 and 4, Rose is not physically present, but you can feel her haunting the narrative. You can almost tell when Ten is thinking of her, when her absence or influence on him causes him to make certain decisions, even though he talks about her pretty rarely. And how rarely he talks about her makes her into a sort of mythic figure for both Martha and Donna, making her return all the more incredible.

I also love that it is Donna who keeps seeing Rose everywhere and is so involved with her return. I sort of see Donna as someone Rose could have very easily become if she had never met the Doctor. They both also understand him in a similar way, though their relationships with him are fundamentally different. If the universe had allowed it, they would have been best friends.

Also, while it's sad for Ten, I loved the Tentoorose ending. I honestly couldn't see ending it any other way and keeping the integrity of Doctor Who's themes.

Finally, it has to be said—Ten and Rose are just so much fun to watch. They’re so happy together. They grin at each other like idiots. Ten does not smile like that with that amount of frequency for anyone else in the series, and I’m so unhinged about it.

A few random thoughts on some other assorted companions:

Mickey: Mickey my beloved!!! One of the things I love about the writing of these four seasons is that they are very aware of their own writing--they know that they're making Mickey into the third wheel, but they're also very aware of that fact. Seeing an arc like this handled with such self-awareness was so cool to see. I liked how Rose didn't immediately leave Mickey for the Doctor, she tried to make their relationship work, but they both eventually came to see that their relationship was immature. I also loved how he had his own arcs independent of Rose, and his character growth in those arcs were just incredible. I also think he has some of the most underrated performances in the show--the scene in Pete's World where he finds his grandmother makes me want to weep. And, of course, I love him and Martha together.

Astrid: Liked her quite a lot, I just don't get why we need to be throwing love interests at Ten all the time. Give him a break.

Jackson and Rosita: I mean, I get it, but also...huh??

Christina: Why. Why. Why.

Wilfred: 10/10. No notes.

#this is unhinged and disorganized i apologize #also these are opinions not an academic thesis please treat them as such #doctor who #tenth doctor #rose tyler #martha jones #donna noble #val cries over a madman with a blue box #tenrose #tentoorose

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faulty-writes · 6 months

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[ Hello my dear followers and or fans. I present to you a Keigo piece, written for the Hawks Big Bang 2023. This was exceptionally fun to write, and I hope you all enjoy this piece. Hopefully, I'll come up with a few more ideas for some Keigo-based fan fics in the future. ]

[ As a support specialist, you were used to receiving attention, and it wasn’t just because you were the child of Endeavor, but you had your suspicions that might be why a certain winged hero liked you. Furthermore, it might explain why you were assigned to create his new feathers. Unfortunately, you run into a certain complication while trying to craft them. ]

It wasn’t easy being the child of Endeavor, the number one hero. When you think about your past, all you remember is how busy he was and how you constantly pleaded for his attention, especially when you came up with invention ideas.

Yes, your love of technology and keen sense of curiosity set you apart from the rest of your family. It was common for you to spend time in your room creating blueprints, drawings, or lists of the inventions you wished to create growing up.

On more than one occasion, you’d fall asleep at your desk with blueprints scattered underneath your sleeping head, half-made prototypes lying in front of you, and your hands still loosely gripping a screwdriver or wrench.

This made it difficult for your siblings to spend time with you and it was always a fight to get you out of your room and away from your passion. You recalled being dragged away by your caretaker with your nails scraping against the floor of your bedroom more than once.

But even this wasn’t enough to tear you away from your life’s purpose. The desire to change the world through your inventions led you to enroll at Yuuei, despite your father’s wishes, and though countless support manufacturing companies offered you positions after you graduated, you chose to start your own business.

Many thought this was impossible, but you knew that your inventions were unique and that potential customers would come to you for your customization abilities. The fact that you never said no to a challenge, no matter how difficult, was another characteristic that set you apart from other support item specialists.

In that aspect, you were sure you had inherited your stubborn nature from your father, but at least he had softened his attitude since Shoto had started attending Yuuei. However, despite your success, you have been unmotivated as of late and who could blame you?

Touya, your oldest brother who happened to be alive but turned into a villain, was responsible for attacking and critically injuring your father and youngest brother. You had originally thought focusing on your work would help you forget about him and the heavy overwhelming feelings that consumed you.

Clearly, you were mistaken. Your thoughts kept drifting back to the current events you were dealing with, causing your chest to ache so fiercely that you almost wished you had inherited your mother’s quirk so you could numb it and feel cold.

In any case, you didn’t inherit your mother’s quirk, at least not in the way you had hoped. Just like your father, you possessed a fire quirk and like your brother, Touya, the fire you produced was blue but…cold. Yes, you had some sort of cold flame ability, but it was nowhere near as powerful as the ice quirk your family possessed.

You weren’t as able to control your fire as Touya, Shoto, or even your father either. Although, like your older brother and sister, you didn’t use your quirk for anything practical outside of experimenting with some inventions that were powered by it.

You will always remember the first time you tried this new type of quirk-powered technology. You thought it was going to be a breakthrough, a new source of energy. Of course, you were still a support student at the time and that could have played into your naive nature.

Anyone in the support business knows that sometimes your inventions don’t go as planned and, in some cases, literally blow up in your face. This is what happened to you, instead of your quirk-powered invention doing as it was designed, it went haywire and blew up when you were within close range of it.

As a result, your dominant hand’s thumb, index, and pinky fingers were severed and the Development Studio was off-limits for a couple of weeks while you adjusted to living with seven functional fingers. Unlike most rational-thinking individuals, you refused to have them reattached.

Rather, you saw this as an opportunity to make another version of your failed invention which is where the origin of your robotic fingers came in. Countless individuals chose to have certain body parts or limbs replaced with robotic ones and in that sense, you didn’t feel any different.

Of course, it had been tricky learning how to channel your quirk to your automated fingers and gauge just how much of your power you needed to make them work efficiently as you needed them to, but eventually, you mastered it.

Now only if you could master the ability to turn your feelings off, but you knew that was impossible. Even so, the latest project you had been given by the Winged Hero: Hawks could distract you for the time being.

Even though most would feel honored to create prosthetic feathers for the number two hero, you felt guilty knowing that those wings were burnt by your brother’s flames. Then again, maybe this was a way to help atone for his wrongdoings and this wasn’t the first time you had been assigned to craft something for Hawks.

He had been coming to you for several reasons since you graduated, and part of you thought it was because of your connection to Endeavor, who he was a big fan of. As time passed, you began to associate his unexpected visits with his desire to spend time with you.

The only problem was that you were too busy for him, and he often disregarded this. You leaned away from your work table to examine the blueprints you had created. “At least these feathers are pretty straightforward,” you tapped the end of your pencil against your lips being careful not to break it with your artificial fingers.

They were made up of three parts to give realistic joint movement, and these three parts gleamed the faintest blue color. The fingers were attached to a special device worn over your hand that looked like an ordinary compression glove but was made from a special type of metal.

As with your artificial fingers, it had a lining that glowed, and three circles across the top, and each circle was connected to one of the three mechanical fingers via a small wire. You paused when a soft vibrating sound filled the air causing you to look at the table.

You noted that the noise source was your phone. If there was one thing people should know about you, it was that you hated being interrupted when working. You sighed when you grabbed it and noticed a familiar number flashing across the screen.

“Bothering me already?” you muttered. You placed the device back down and grabbed your blueprints. “He can wait until I’m done with these,” it was standard for your customers to have your number, but you noticed Keigo had a bad habit of calling you whenever he pleased, and you didn’t have time for that.

You couldn’t even imagine how he had time for that, especially in his current state. He couldn’t even speak and needed a voice assistance device. Of course, it was only temporary and most likely given to him in the rush of everything else that was going on.

Still, you couldn’t help but think you could have made him something better. But it was time to forget about that. You glanced over the table which was currently cluttered with scraps of metal and beaten-to-death-looking tools.

“Let’s see…” you leaned over to the bulletin board that was hanging on the wall directly in front of said table and proceeded to hang the blueprint up. It was good to have a reference to look at when you were creating, although you were the type to tweak things here and there along the way.

Luckily, it never resulted in anything catastrophic. “There,” you leaned back, placing your hands on your hips and smiling proudly. “Now it’s my favorite time of the day,” you pulled your work stool out from under the table and sat down, pulling up the sleeves of your hoodie.

Well, okay. It was Natsuo’s hoodie, and you might have stolen it out of his closet without permission. But he had a million more and as much as you hated to admit it, the simple piece of clothing did bring some comfort.

You cracked your knuckles before leaning over to grab your work computer that was resting against one of the legs of the table and opened it. A few clicks sounded and seconds passed before a building program popped up on the screen.

Yes, even support item specialists used building or modeling software, and if you wanted to create prosthetics, feather prosthetics at that, you had to build a 3D structure that you could work with. However, unlike when you crafted things by hand, certain programs used to create more specific support items needed to be precise.

This also meant you had to spend hours and hours perfecting each little detail based on the hand-drawn blueprints you created before moving on. It wasn’t uncommon for you to get so caught up in your work that you drowned out the world around you. Noises such as your phone vibrating were deaf to your ears.

“Mm…” Keigo frowned, shrugging his shoulders. His yellow-golden eyes were fixed on his phone screen. Since he couldn’t talk right now, he wasn’t sure why he was calling you. However, his concern was heightened with every attempted call as they all went to your voicemail.

Tsunagu, more widely known as “Best Jeanist” noticed the distressed state the younger hero was in. He narrowed his eyes and approached, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. As expected, Keigo glanced up at him. “Perhaps it’s best you leave them be,” he suggested.

While he would normally support a fellow hero and their pursuits, he didn’t think it wise Keigo continue bothering you. It was evident that Endeavor was still recovering from his physical injuries, and his family was suffering emotionally now.

Keigo blinked and refocused his attention back on his phone, seeming to disregard the elder man’s words. He closed his eyes and after a few seconds, looked at Tsunagu again. His thumb quickly glided over the screen of his phone, and he typed out the message, “I need to check on them.”

Tsunagu sighed, pressing his hand against his forehead. He had his suspicions as to why Keigo wanted to see you, and it wasn’t just because you were assigned to create his new feathers. He didn’t want to see a fellow hero go down the dead-end path of romance.

At the same time, he knew far too well that he could not tell another adult, much less another hero what to do and in that sense, he could not rightfully refuse Keigo’s request. “Very well,” he replied, trying his best not to sigh and turning to walk to his car.

“Finally!” you leaned back, grinning at the 3D model of a prosthetic feather on the screen. “Now all that’s left is to print it,” you dragged the mouse over to the ‘File’ button and scrolled down. You were about to click ‘Print’ when you heard something.

“Hm?” your head turned to look at a small monitor nestled in the corner of the room, it was activated by a motion camera and much like a phone notification, it chimed when someone approached. You narrowed your eyes when you noticed the individual standing in front of the door.

His ash-blond feathery hair caught your attention first, followed by the medical bandages that were wrapped around his head but still exposed his face. The next thing was the respirator mask he wore, and the black button-up shirt he had on.

In his right hand, he was holding a small device which you assumed was his phone. The only thing that was missing was what you were currently working on, those beautiful bright red feathers that made up his wings. “What the?” your eyebrow twitched, and you clenched your jaw, immediately feeling annoyed by his presence.

‘What is he doing here!?’ you thought, balling your trembling hands into fists. ‘Well, I’m going to find out!’ With that, you stood from your seat and marched over to the door just as a few knocks sounded. You roughly pulled the door open, ignoring how it smacked against the wall.

You glared at the injured hero. “What do you want?” you demanded, crossing your arms. Yes, most wouldn’t be rude to pro heroes especially when they were as injured as Keigo. But, in your defense, he should know better than to bother you while you are working.

He stared at you, and you weren’t sure if he was in shock or disbelief over your words. “You ignored my texts” he replied. You furrowed your brow. “Texts?” you repeated. With a pointed artificial finger, you said, “You didn’t text me!”

You expected him to make a smart remark, but silence followed, and his attention was focused on your finger. In response to the glowing blue finger, his body stiffened and memories of the flames that had stolen his wings and voice came flooding back to him.

You noticed the blue-hued reflection of your finger in his eyes but quickly turned to march back to your work table and snatched your phone off it. After unlocking the device, you looked to see…you were wrong. There were several text messages from him and a few missed calls, but you weren’t sure if all of them were from him.

“Told you,” a robotic voice said. “Ah!” you jumped and turned around, swinging your fist at him. Even in his weakened state, he was quick enough to block you. “Whoa there,” his facial expression softened as if he had enjoyed the fact, you almost punched him. “Didn’t mean to scare you,” you rolled your eyes, looking back at your phone.

Part of you was curious to see what Keigo’s text messages said while another was annoyed that you were wasting your time, you had work to do! You clenched your jaw, lowering your phone before snapping, “Why are you always bothering me!?” Keigo leaned back, his eyes widening.

You could only imagine the shocked or disbelieving expression that was hidden underneath that respirator mask. He blinked once or twice before typing into his phone, “I wanted to see you today.” Well, that didn’t answer your question.

You sighed, placing your hand against your head and being careful not to let your hair get stuck in the small spaces of your robotic extremities. Keigo stood there, his eyes shifting ever so slightly as he absorbed each detail of you.

Even though he could see Endeavor’s anger and stubbornness in you, it was more charming, even cute coming from you. Yet, it was still hard for him to accept that you were the child of his favorite hero. “Look,” he immediately shifted his gaze to your face when you spoke.

“Your feathers aren’t finished yet, and you’re distracting me, so leave now!” you demanded, pointing to the door. You turned your back to him. “Jeez…” you muttered, slamming your phone back onto the table. You couldn’t fathom why he had wanted to see you, since you didn’t see yourself as interesting.

In addition, your life was consumed with work. There was always something to be done. Day in and day out, inventing, fixing, and creating. It was a miracle you even had time for your own family, let alone others. Keigo frowned, although he knew this was how you’d react.

He assumed Endeavor taught you to keep to yourself and to keep everyone at arm’s length. But that only made him question what were you trying to hide or was it that you were afraid of what would happen if you let someone in? He understood how that felt, given his neglectful and abusive childhood scars.

There was a part of him that wondered if life had led him to you only to remind him that he was nothing more than a villain in disguise and that his effort to dirty his hands to keep yours clean was all for nothing since he could never reach you no matter how hard he tried.

He curled his free hand into a fist, hearing the gentle cracking of his knuckles. But heroes and villains had one thing in common: they never gave up. So, damn the world because he’d keep trying, and with everything going to hell in a handbasket, now was the ideal moment to capture your heart and fuck the consequences.

His eyes lingered on you, once again taking in every detail. Although he was struck with curiosity when he noticed the hoodie you were wearing, it looked a bit too large for you and he swore he had caught a musky scent earlier that contrasted your typical fruity but spicy fragrance.

His suspicions were heightened and frankly, he didn’t like the fact that you were wearing another man’s clothing. He intended to disregard your wish, not that he would abide by it anyway, and he anticipated how you would react when he leaned forward, pressing himself against your back.

“What the-” You tensed up and lifted your arm, fully intent on elbowing him in the stomach, but once again he was too fast for you. The sound of his phone hitting the table echoed through the room. “Hey!” he grabbed your left wrist and pinned it against the table.

“What do you think you’re doing!?” you demanded, feeling him pin your right hand against the table as well. It was a tad odd to feel the cool metal touch of your artificial fingers against his. Part of him wondered if you missed the sensation of being able to feel or touch.

After all, even you couldn’t invent something that brought back the nerves that were taken away after that incident years ago. Yes, he knew about it, and he was still at a loss for why you didn’t choose to simply reattach your fingers.

Then again, there was a chance that even if you did, they’d hold no or very little feeling at all. But flesh or not, nothing was going to stop him from tightening his grip and enjoying how his fingers fit perfectly between yours.

When he rested his chin on your shoulder, you tensed up in response. He tried to get a glimpse of your face before he moved your wrist closer to his phone and used the bottom of his palm to keep it pinned against the table while his fingers typed out another message.

“Whose hoodie are you wearing?” The question threw you off and you looked dumbfounded before knitting your eyebrows and the sound of your growling filled the air. “Why do you care?” you replied, glaring at him from over your shoulder.

An expression of distant longing filled his eyes, and he offered no words in response to your question. “Huh?” you froze when he released his hold on you and stepped away. Although he knew it was dangerous, he didn’t care since he had nothing left to hold back.

The moment you saw him reach up to remove his mask, your eyes widened. “Wait!” you cried out, grabbing his hand to force it away from his face. “What are you doing? Are you crazy!? You need to keep your mask on!” you exclaimed, almost hating yourself for showing that you cared about him.

Your words were met with silence, and his eyes remained with that distant look as if he didn’t comprehend what he was doing or what you were saying. Although your robotic fingers might be digging into his flesh and causing him discomfort, you tightened your grip.

After a moment, however, you took a deep breath and dropped your hand. “Fine,” you said, crossing your arms. He almost hated the frown you wore, but he knew you needed to hear his voice even if it physically pained him to speak.

“Do what you want!” you yelled, latching onto your lip, feeling embarrassed that you had let your emotions slip. Yes, maybe you did care about Keigo, a little, but he didn’t need to know that! He lowered his eyebrows and resumed removing his mask. “Mm…” you glanced back at him, dropping your arms instantly.

Your eyes widened and your mouth hung agape. The left side of his face was marked by a jagged scar, which ran down to the side of his neck. It was red and in the process of healing. You wondered if it still required treatment, but his hardy and struggling breathing distracted you from any further thoughts.

“You…wearing another man’s…clothing,” his voice was barely audible, “makes me jealous.” Your eyes began to water at the sight of the damage left on his skin and at the sound of his vocal cords straining to speak. Stepping closer, you said “I-It’s Natsuo’s hoodie,” and cursed yourself for trembling when you spoke.

“Mm...” his eyes narrowed as if he were debating whether you were telling the truth or not. “Is…is that what you really care about right now!?” you growled. “You are so…” you wanted to call him stupid, an idiot even. Instead, you swallowed and looked at him, with a few stray tears running down your cheeks.

Your hand came to rest on the side of his injured cheek, and you almost wished you didn’t have these damned metal fingers so you could properly brush your thumb over his skin. Your compression glove’s cool metal texture made him recoil and at the same time, a sense of sadness filled him.

He would have much preferred to feel the touch of your warm palm, of course, then you wouldn’t have the use of a thumb period. “Did Touya really do this to you?” he frowned at your question and reached up, clasping the side of your face. It was apparent that your tears were now streaming over his hand and down his wrist.

Although most tears felt warm, yours were cold and left faint red lines on his skin. He quickly assumed this was because your quirk was cold enough to burn and partly wondered if your tears would leave a kiss of frostbite or at the very least, leave his skin feeling cold for a while. Not that it mattered.

He almost wanted to laugh, because unlike your brother, who shared that his tear ducts were burned, yours seemed to work just fine. Seeing a hero in such a fragile state, one that everyone looked up to, was always hard to accept.

But this was reality, and he didn’t fear showing you his weaker side, he just wished you’d do the same. Although you were already going through a lot emotionally, he felt a tiny bit guilty that he was only adding to it. At the same time, he felt hopeful that he was getting closer and closer to tearing down your walls today.

As he cradled your face in his hands, he gently moved his thumbs, collecting your chilly teardrops and wiping them away. You latched onto your lip, feeling your heart speed up at the caring and gentle gesture he was performing.

You were typically someone who bottled up their feelings and if you had to cry, you usually did it in private as you believed it was a sign of weakness. But it seemed that you and Keigo were both weak and needed to lean on one another for the time being.

The answer to your earlier question was obvious, and frankly, you didn’t know why you had even asked it in the first place. “Damn it…” you hissed under your breath and tried to turn your head, but Keigo refused to allow you to look away from him.

His noisy and raspy breathing made you cringe, and you hoped that he wouldn’t collapse. Your eyes closed and you pressed your teeth together, you couldn’t take any more drama. A soft hitch of breath came when Keigo stepped closer and pressed his forehead against yours.

Tears continued to trickle out of your eyes, possibly a sign of all the emotions you had been holding back until now. Silence filled the space between you, apart from the man’s continued breathing and it was only in this moment that you noticed the unfamiliar heat coursing through your cheeks.

As he cautiously stepped closer, his hands slipped down to your shoulders, drawing his breath against your face and you felt the warmth of his lips so dangerously close to yours. “I’m...not a good...guy,” he said, struggling with his words once again.

“What?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. You lowered your hand from his face, how could he say that? Yes, you were aware of what he had done. Your brother had told Japan that the Winged Hero: Hawks had murdered Twice, the villain.

However, you knew from your own experience that heroes aren’t always heroic. Your father was a prime example of that, but as of recently, he aimed to improve himself, despite the hatred the world now held for heroes. You could only assume that Keigo was following in his footsteps.

His hands brushed over yours and he took them in his grasp, holding them to his lips. As he kissed each one of your knuckles, he closed his eyes, taking another breath. “You…make me…feel like one.” Tingles ran through your body, and when he opened his eyes again it felt like those golden orbs were staring directly into your soul.

Yet, you felt comfortable for a moment. As if all the troubles you felt were suddenly lifted. Your eyelids lowered and you squeezed his hands, almost unconsciously pressing yourself against him. The tiniest smile came to your face, and Keigo’s eyes softened when he returned that smile. It was good to see you in this state.

Maybe now he could…he paused, releasing your hands and instead, wrapped his arms around you. His fingers almost possessively dug into your back, and he leaned forward. A soft coo escaped him as he carefully nuzzled against your neck making you tremble in response.

It was hard to tell if you were shocked by the way he embraced you or by the bird-like noise he made. Of course, you should have expected it given his quirk. Your hands remained at your sides, and you thought, ‘Should I hug him back?’

You were never one to express your affection physically, but it seemed the two of you were already past that. “Mm...” you hesitantly slipped your arms beneath Keigo’s, allowing your fingertips to graze along his back while remaining conscious of not harming him with your robotic fingers.

Your eyebrows knitted as you felt two distinct bumps on his shoulder blades and quickly realized they were the remains of his wings. ‘Oh right...his wings…’ you thought bitterly, glancing to the side. ‘I should be working on his damn feathers, what am I doing!?’

Despite your rational thoughts, your body didn’t listen. ‘Why…why can’t I move away?’ Was it because this felt nice? His body was warm and comforting despite being bruised, beaten, and fragile. Your eyes began to water again, and you tightened your embrace.

Your fingers, or at least the flesh and blood ones, were trembling. As soon as he noticed this, he drew back but kept his arms around you. He noticed your watery eyes first, followed by your frown and overall look of hurt across your face.

He wanted to ask what was wrong, but words were useless. Maybe he should show you that everything was okay or as okay as he could make it at this time. Pulling back his hand, he lightly grasped your chin and grazed his thumb along your bottom lip. The moment he leaned forward, your heart pounded faster.

What was going on? Was he going to…and why did you want to? Your eyelids lowered, and your lips parted, prepared to feel the warmth of his against them. However, the door opened right as your mouths touched, and both of you froze. Then a familiar voice came, “Y/n?”

You instantly pushed your hands against Keigo’s chest and glanced past him to see your father. What was he doing here, shouldn’t he be in the hospital!? Well, unless he got discharged. But if that were the case, then Fuyumi should have informed you. Then again, you weren’t exactly paying attention to your phone today.

You expected him to react with anger, but instead, he frowned and lowered his eyebrows, confused at what he was seeing and why Keigo was so close to his child. “Apologies,” Tsunagu’s voice came and seconds later you watched him squeeze past your father.

“I attempted to explain to Endeavor that you were currently engaged in conversation with Y/n, but it appears he favored disrupting regardless.” Well...in addition to ignoring your phone, you realized that if someone was preoccupying your attention, you also ignored the chime of your motion camera. Lovely. “However, they are his child and I believe we have interrupted Todoroki family matters enough,” he was somewhat concerned as to why Keigo hadn’t turned around yet. But knowing the young hero, he was more than likely attentively listening to and acknowledging the two men now present in the room.

In addition, due to his years of conditioning as a hero, it was also likely he was continuing to shield you because he wanted to make sure you and everything else were safe. Enji glared at Tsunagu before shaking his head and looking back at you and Keigo.

Though he didn’t say a word when he walked over, his eyes burned with an intimidating gaze that made you tremble. “Uh...hi Dad?” you awkwardly said and, with some regret, stepped away from Keigo. Without warning, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you away.

You were surprised that he said and did nothing given the fact that in the past he had no trouble laying his hands on Keigo and threatening to turn him into fried chicken. Maybe double-fried chicken in this case. You shifted your gaze to Tsunagu as you passed by, and he merely shrugged.

“Mm…” your cheeks were flushed, and Enji loosened his grip on your wrist when the two of you got closer to the door and instead, took a secure grip on your hand. As he yanked it forward, three distinct snaps echoed through the room.

You paused, realizing that he had unintentionally taken your artificial fingers off, but luckily that was part of their design. It enabled you to replace whichever finger you wanted or fix them if necessary. He paused and looked to see three metal appendages now in his palm. His eyes widened, and he looked back at you.

“Shouldn’t have pulled that hard,” you said, holding your hand up. The metal compression glove remained, but the three wires that connected to your fingers were hanging against it. Judging by your father’s frown, it was difficult for him to see just two flesh and blood fingers because it reminded him of his shameful past.

After losing your fingers, he should have been stricter with you and consulted you about what you needed to do. He curled his hand into a fist and grabbed your wrist with his opposite. “Let’s go,” he finally dragged you past the door, leaving the two fellow heroes behind.

Upon hearing Keigo fumble with his respiratory mask, Tsunagu asked, “Is this what you meant when you said you needed to check on them?” Keigo ignored his words and grabbed his phone from the table, briefly glancing at your computer which was left open.

He noted the odd program you had displayed on the screen and the strange feather-like image on it. He turned to Tsunagu, “They’ll be back later,” he typed out. “Endeavor wouldn’t distract them for long, after all, they’re obsessed with their work,” he noted before walking past the fellow hero.

“We need to make sure to lock the door, I don’t want Y/n’s possessions to get stolen,” he paused in the doorway, focusing his gaze on a black vehicle pulling away from the building in a hurry. It was safe to assume that it belonged to Endeavor.

Your hands curled in your lap when your father finally got you into the car, though it was a tad odd to see the three stumps where your fingers used to be. “Hi Y/n,” Fuyumi greeted but only received your glare in response.

It must take a lot out of her mental health to have to force herself to remain optimistic over everything she does, and part of you hated her constant positivity even when there was none to be found. You shifted your gaze to Natsuo, who, like your father, had a temper.

But he was at least honest with you and expressed his opinions without remorse. He saw the truth in everything and accepted it no matter how hard. Shoto seemed to be missing, but you presumed that his injuries would take more time to heal and further presumed that your mother was with him.

“Mm…” you turned to Enji, holding out your opposite hand and he hesitantly handed you the metal fingers. After clicking each one into place and ensuring they worked properly and that the wires were firmly reattached, you muttered, “Thanks” and looked out the window.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t annoyed that you were once again being distracted from your work. Enji frowned, staring at the back of your head, and contemplating his next words. “Stay away from Hawks,” you looked at him in disbelief.

However, your reaction was not surprising to him, and he remained with a stern expression and crossed arms. “What?” you hissed out, your eyebrows slanted, and your teeth bared as if ready to pounce on him like a hungry animal after its prey.

“Wait…” Fuyumi said, her voice full of concern. “Hawks visited you?” she frowned and pressed a hand against her chest. ‘That must be why Dad was so upset,’ like your father, she was unphased by your glare and her facial expression reflected her concern and loving nature.

She cared about this family as hellish as it was and wanted nothing more than to take care of her younger siblings, especially in the absence of your mother. Granted she decided to come back into the picture quite recently, which was yet another emotional toll you had to deal with.

Like Shoto, you kept a distance from your older siblings, and no matter how hard they tried to connect with you, there never seemed to be anything in common between you and them. You preferred to stay indoors and often refused to play with them growing up.

This, of course, was a result of your passion for support items which drove you to confine yourself to your room where you spent hours creating, fixing, or making blueprints of inventions. You paused and glared at her again, was she really asking such a dumb question?

You turned to Enji. “He’s not that bad you know. After everything he’s been through because of Touy-” a deep growl rumbled from his throat. “I know very well what happened,” he remarked, anger seeping from his words.

Guess he didn’t want to be reminded of the awful deeds his own flesh and blood committed. Natsuo sighed, pressing the tips of his fingers together. He felt hopeless that he couldn’t do anything about Touya. He glanced at you, crossing his arms before pressing his back into his seat.

“Lay off Y/n,” he demanded, now glaring at your father. “It’s not their fault that Touya ended up the way he did,” he noted, ignoring Fuyumi’s hand on his shoulder. “Don’t say that Natsuo,” she urged in a quiet whisper, why she always felt like defending your father was unknown.

You sighed, glancing out the window again. “What did he want?” Natsuo asked, catching your attention. “Hm?” you responded, not fully catching his question. “What did he want?” he repeated, slightly annoyed. You knitted your eyebrows and huffed. “Nothing,” you replied nonchalantly.

Natsuo narrowed his eyes, with the way you were dragged out the door, he didn’t buy it. Before he could inquire anything further, Enji said, “So it was Hawks who initiated it then.” You stared at him silently as you pressed your lips together.

He narrowed his eyes, returning your stare. “I’ll have to have a chat with him later,” he stated, it wasn’t in his interest for Keigo to have a romantic relationship with his child. “What?” you replied before pressing your hands against the empty space between you and Enji.

“No, you won’t! Nothing happened between us, he was just…” Your words faded into the air, and your eyes shifted back and forth. “Just what?” Enji asked, daring you to complete your sentence. “W-why does it matter?” you replied, knowing you were acting like a love-sick teenager.

As you stared out the window yet again, you took notice of the clouds passing by. “Y/n,” Enji snarled possessively. You sighed. “What?” you asked, glancing at his reflection in the glass of the window. He was wearing a frown, and his eyes held a hurt expression.

“I want to protect all of you,” he stated, once again attempting to show his softer side. You heard Natsuo huff in response while Fuyumi remained quiet. You lifted your hand to brush the cool metal tips of your artificial fingers against your lips, ignoring the blue-tinted hue that reflected off the window.

You recalled the feeling of Keigo’s breath against them and the faint butterfly kiss of his mouth against yours. ‘What would have happened if Dad didn’t interrupt us?’ You weren’t sure if you wanted to know, but one thing was clear.

“You can’t protect someone else’s heart,” you replied, your voice soft but audible. That hurt expression on his face deepened, but you didn’t bother turning your head or looking at his reflection any longer. Instead, you were more concerned over the realization that maybe, just maybe you liked Keigo after all.

#keigo x reader #hawks x reader #keigo x you #hawks x you #keigo x y/n #hawks x female reader #hawks x male reader #hawks x y/n #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha x y/n #faulty writes: keigo takami: 23 #faulty writes: keigo takami: one shot: 23

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lxvxadrusxlla · 1 month

Text

Why are all Slytherins "evil"?

I was re-reading Harry Potter in the last period. Awesome experience, as always. I mean, HP is literally my favourite book series: it helped me to grow up and find my own identity, it made me feel less alone, it taught me how to dream and it introduced me to the world of fandoms in the internet.

Despite many problems of the series (narrative and ideological), I love Harry Potter with all my heart and I will never stop to recommend it to young readers.

But, you know, there's always something that really, really bothers me with Harry Potter. Well, yes, we could discuss about the problematic aparth- uhm, separation between Wizards and Muggles, or about the fact that Elves slavery is pratically... justified (?), and there's no solution for the Elves question in the final book.

But these topics are too much complicated for a random tumblr post, and we are on the internet, I don't want to start a war about politics, etc. :)

No, I want to complain about a certain thing that I really can't understand and it bothers me everytime that I read the books or watch the movies.

WHY ARE ALL SLYTHERINS EVIL? JOANNE, I NEED AN ANSWER, BECAUSE I DON'T UNDERSTAND.

Why they have to be so mean everytime? Being ambitious and shrewd doesn't mean "bad person".

Also, why are they all racist? And why it seems that all of them are sons or daughters of Death Eaters, or in any case their parents share Voldemort's ideology?

Are you saying that ALL SLYTHERINS are pureblood and racist? ALL OF THEM came from a family of Death Eaters? So there are not cunning, ambitious and shrewd people between halfbloods, Muggle-Borns and healthy pureblood families. That's weird.

Oh, yes, and in the first book Slytherins are described as all ugly. Literally.

So, yes, Slytherins are evil and ALSO ugly. Again... why?

Yes, there are some exceptions.

The first one is Severus Snape: now, I love Snape, he's such an interesting character and I feel sorry for his past; the scene in which he gets bullied is so hurting to me (I was bullied myself so I can understand the anger and that feeling of weakness), but... he was not a good person. He has been dominated by hate for his entire life and he never overcomed his past. He was a Death Eater for a period. He bullied Harry, Hermione and Neville for no reason. And sometimes he was so cruel that I think his behaviour is a part of the "All Slytherins are evil" mentality.

Like, Snape has deceived the Dark Lord for years, he is a genius in Potions, DADA and Occlumancy, he's supposed to be one of the smartest characters in the series. So... why has he never understand that Harry is not like James?

"Because he was blinded by hate", you can say.

Ok, but when he saw Harry's memories in the fifth book, why didn't he change his mind?

"He had to act cold because he was pretending to be still loyal to Voldemort."

OK, but there's a difference between being cold to someone and being openly cruel. Snape's behaviours are often illogical and contradictory with the idea of his character, and I can only think that the author depicted him in that way not only to write a "grey character", but also to be loyal to the tradition of "Slytherins are evil".

Next? Oh, Regulus Arcturus Black, one of my favourites. Yes, he was a Slytherin, he was a hero who betrayed the Dark Lord for the sake of Wizarding World. However, his character still has many negative traits: he was a Death Eater, and he shared the racist ideology of his family for years. Again, not bad, but not a good example.

Narcissa Black. She saved Harry, but she is still a racist woman who is married to a Death Eater, and she failed complitely to educate her son.

Her sister, Andromeda Black. Yes, she is the only example of "good Slyhterins" who is not racist or who has not connections with Death Eaters. So, yes, she is good, but there's another problem in this case: she appears once in the whole series, she is barely a character!

Horace Slughorn, my love, he is good, yes. BUT the main trait of his character is negative: he loves to collect the best students like they were trophies.

Draco Malfoy. He is a useless bully for five books, then he changes but even when his character became deeper and more interesting he remains a coward.

Sorry Draco's fans: I like Draco too, but it's true.

I often see people talk about "Draco's redemption", but honestly I don't see this redeption. Simply he became a decent person, but he is not go through an actual process of change. He is mean, but he never wanted to kill, he never wanted war, so he tries to not get in the way of Harry and his allies, that's it. This is not a redeption, this is an awareness.

There are also Albus Severus, Scorpius and Leta, but they are not characters from the original series, and they were created AFTER all the criticism about the fact that all Slytherins are depicted as bad, so I won't consider them.

It's a shame, you know? Because one of the most important themes in HP is supposed to be INCLUSION. So, why, WHY, nobody, even the "good characters", try to understand or socialize with Slytherins?

Why, in the SIXTH BOOK, I have to read about Harry and Neville who don't greet their Slytherin schoolmates beacuse "Gryffindors and Slytherins don't talk, that's it." Yes, Harry says that.

This is the reason why I love those fanfiction in which we can see Harry and other characters interact with Slytherins. Because this is what I want to see at Hogwarts: inclusion, no prejudice, brotherhood between the four Houses.

I don't know why, but nowdays I still see some "fans" of HP criticize or have prejudice about Slytherin house and I'm like: "After all this time?"

Don't answer "Always" this time, Slytherism (?) has to finish, once and for all.

So... Yes, peace and love between the Houses, thay are all great in their own way!

[I also hope that my English was comprehensible, I'm not that good, but I'm trying my best.]

#harry potter #harry potter criticism #slytherin #severus snape #draco malfoy #narcissa malfoy #andromeda tonks #horace slughorn #regulus black #hogwarts #I'm a proud Ravenclaw btw

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idolatrybarbie · 5 months

Text

the world tipped on its side

epilogue - a sip or a spoonful

series masterlist | read on ao3

pairing: francisco "frankie" morales x f!reader

word count: 1.9k

rating & summary: mature | he wants all of your love.

warnings: hospitals, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff and feels, discussion of surgery and anesthesia.

notes: we have reached the end of this months-long delve into emotions, disability and family! omg - it's really insane to think that this lil' fic brought me some amazing new friends and introduced me to a great new writing community. twtois is my baby, and i love these two. i hate to say goodbye, but all good stories must come to an end. thank you to everyone who has followed me because of this fic, and/or showed this fic any love. it was a gamble writing about disability - as in, no one coulda read this fic and we would not be here - but like frankie i am a gambling man. and it paid off! so thank you again, and i hope you enjoy.

You’re stuck in the waiting room. Doctors won’t let you past the threshold of the medical floor, so here you are. Family only. Try as you might, the assertion still stings. He’s going to be okay. He has to be. It’s the only thing keeping you from losing your mind.

This ultimate curve ball you’ve been thrown has you reflecting, the flimsy chair you’ve chosen threatening to create a human spill of you at any second. Things with Frankie are easy. You have no clue why you ever wished for anything to come along and complicate that. Except that’s not entirely true—another lie, but you’re getting better at catching yourself.

When you’ve spent so much time acquainted with pain and uncertainty, the lack of it becomes a foreign concept. Existence without struggle is like pulling teeth. Feeling that free-flowing ease that Frankie somehow provides in droves still sometimes makes your skin crawl. It's a learning process. But nothing could possibly be scarier than the thought of losing him. You learned that today. Every other fear, all discomfort you hold fades to the background. He and you are inextricably linked.

A man bursts through the doors of the E.R., a whirlwind for your mind to grasp onto amid the sea of sterile white pain. He’s a bit shorter than Frankie, skin beige and brow creased as he strides through the waiting area like he’s on a mission. His walk makes him impossibly familiar: the way he wears his shoulders like earrings, toddling in the slightest with every right step. When he reaches the front desk and speaks to the attending nurse, his spine only relaxes slightly.

Of course you eavesdrop on their conversation.

“Here to see Francisco Morales,” the man says, speaking precisely.

“I’m afraid he’s not accepting any visitors right now,” the nurse replies.

“You’re looking at his emergency contact. Santiago Garcia…you look it up, you’ll see me.” His words are forceful; a slap across the face with an order to stand at attention.

You mumble an, “Excuse me,” and join Santiago at the attendant's desk. “How is he?”

“Ma’am, I already told you—”

“Please. I’m his…girlfriend,” you say. The word tastes weird in your mouth.

Speaking to Santiago, the nurse says, “I can speak to you. I can’t speak to her.”

Rolling your eyes, you push yourself away from the desk and walk back to your seat. Rubbing fingers into your temples brings no relief to the steadily growing tension headache at your forehead. Your brain is working overtime, thoughts echoing as you try and take deep breaths.

He’s going to be okay.

“Ma’am?”

You’re expecting the nurse again, ready to ask you to vacate the waiting room to make space for the family of someone else—someone more important than him. You fix your mouth to tell her to get bent before you see who it is. Santiago.

“Oh, um—hi,” is all you manage.

He takes the seat next to you, keeping his back straight against the bendy top rail of the chair. “Frankie didn’t tell me he was seeing anybody,” are the first real words to you from this virtual stranger.

“It’s new.”

“I’m glad someone else is here,” he says, presenting you with a hand to shake. You take it, grasp firm around the bones of his knuckles before you let go.

He’s got palms like Frankie’s. Scarred and worn with use, from carrying a gun. From killing people, the back of your mind whispers. You ignore it. What was it that Frankie had said about this Santiago?

“He’s the only one still doing military shit these days…a bit of an asshole. You two probably wouldn’t get along.”

And then there was that other thing—the medical death wish. Perhaps an urge not entirely reserved at the hands of a doctor if he’s out there pretending to be G.I. Joe while all his friends have retired. Suddenly, unfortunately, you understand this Santiago Garcia better than most people you’ll ever meet. The pang of jealousy that hit your stomach at his materialization dissolves as you finally make proper eye contact. You introduce yourself. He does the same, telling you to call him Santi.

“Did they say anything about his condition?”

“He’s fine,” Santi shakes his head. “Just giving him a few to recoup, taking a couple tests.” Silence lingers a while before he broaches the topic of your relationship: when, where, how long. He asks nicely enough that you find yourself answering.

“We met on this stupid fucking movie,” you say. “I needed a helicopter and a pilot to fly it. And I’m sure you know he’s the best.”

“Oh, for sure,” Santi agrees. “You made the right decision.”

“Wasn’t me actually,” you say. Despite yourself, a smile creeps along your face. “My best friend—Mia. She’d worked with him before and it just happened to work out… I don’t know. Strange series of events.”

“Sounds like Frankie.” When you give him a questioning look, Santi explains, “He has a habit of finding himself in unconventional situations. Like crashin’ a fucking helicopter, for example.” The breathy laugh that accompanies his words should lift your spirits, but it doesn’t.

A drop of water falls to the back of your hand, and before your brain can catch up, you’re sobbing in the emergency department waiting room. The pliable chair beneath you threatens to fold with every sob that wracks your body. Santiago sits next to you, frozen in uncertainty.

“Sorry,” you say, voice garbled with tears. “I—it feels like my fault. He shouldn’t have been there in the first place.”

“Look, hey. Listen,” Santi starts, “People like us, like Frankie and me…we do dangerous shit. It comes with the job description. That’s the deal we cut.”

You don’t want that. Not for Frankie, not for Santiago. Not for anyone. You love what you do—what you did, before the accident. You know there is no reward without risk, but somehow that doesn't seem quite fair. The hardship you’ve endured is a different sort of pain, but you know regardless. No one should have to live that life.

“But I can tell you that these last few months, Frankie’s been the happiest I’ve seen him since his kid was born. He’s not one for show ‘n tell, so I wasn’t sure why. But I am now.”

“You don’t have to say that.”

“Sweetheart, with all due respect, I don’t say anything that I don’t mean.” He averts his gaze now, staring out at nothing as he says, “Frankie’s been through a lot. Done a lot. I don’t know what he’s told you. But I do know when that man cares about something, he will do anything in his power to get back to it.”

You get tissues from the nurse’s desk, settling in. You’re in the middle of trading Catfish tales when you freeze mid-sentence. The man himself stands before you—patched up and limping, but alive. They’ve taken his clothes and given him a hideous set of toothpaste green scrubs. You practically rush him, pulling Frankie close in a bear hug. The material crinkles like paper beneath you.

Your nose brushes against his jaw, the smell of him under soap and cleaner. Frankie carefully wraps his arms around you in turn. The action warms your skin, bringing you in from the cold.

“You’re okay,” you whisper.

“I’m okay,” he confirms. Frankie pulls back from the hug to look at you. “You saved me.”

“I don’t think—”

“You did. Thank you.”

“Always.” The word falls from your mouth like second nature.

Frankie must spot Santiago over your shoulder, giving him a nod before he pulls you in for another, briefer hug. Then he moves to Santi. You watch as they pat each other on the back like brothers. The shorter man paws at Frankie’s shoulders to get a firm grasp. They share a deep, concentrated stare; their communication is all in the eyes. Maybe that’s where Frankie gets it from. Regardless, you can’t decipher it. Whatever the two men share stays between them. Frankie embraces Santiago, lifting him an inch off the floor for effect.

“Alright,” Santi huffs. “Put me down, Fish.”

“I see you two have already met,” Frankie says as he steps away.

“Quite the lady you got here.”

“He was telling me some stories about your first deployment together,” you say.

“You got here right in time,” Santi says. “Was just about to tell her about how you got that call sign.”

“I think that’s enough storytelling for tonight,” Frankie says resolutely.

You narrow your eyes at him with a laugh. “You can’t escape me, Catfish. I’ll find out sooner or later.”

They let you take Frankie to your car in a wheelchair. Santiago makes Frankie promise to call him before he walks it back to the hospital doors. Frankie’s seat sits at an incline, letting him lay down while he stays buckled in. He looks exhausted, thoroughly worn down and ready for days of bed rest.

“We’re headed home, okay?” you say, readjusting the seat cushion beneath you at a red light. “You’re gonna sleep, and then when you wake up we can order food. That sound alright?”

Your fingers tap against the center console, a tick you’ve picked up from Frankie’s own car habits. You stop when he takes your hand into his own, squeezing gently. He looks up at you with round eyes, dark circles beneath them. He’s okay.

“I’m already there,” Frankie says.

You hate hospitals. The smell of antiseptic can never truly hide the stench of death. Your dad died in one; the possibility of living life as you loved it was robbed from you in a room just like this. And yet here you are putting your faith in this hospital, the doctors that work within its walls, and the spirit of hope that lingers here. Or maybe that's just Frankie.

They've got you in a gown, laid out and waiting. Soon enough, the anesthesiologist will come in with another doctor and stick you with a needle. You'll count back from ten...and light outs. It won't be up to you anymore.

Until then, Frankie's by your side. Holding your hand, kissing your forehead. Talking to you about nothing, really, but you like to hear his voice. He stops you short when he asks, "Where do you want to go first?"

"What?"

"When everything is, y’know, said and done. If you could go anywhere?" he explains.

"Home. In a wheelchair. I won't be doing much of anything," you say.

"Come on, just—anywhere."

You laugh. "Frankie, there's nowhere to go. What, are you gonna wheel me across Europe?"

"If you want," he says.

"You are ridiculous."

"And you still love me for it. Where?” Frankie insists. He's not letting this go.

You sigh as you answer, "I don't know. I kind of liked that story you told about Michigan. With the snow."

"The one where I almost froze to death?"

"Yeah, that one. Except maybe we skip out on that part this time," you say.

"There are more glamourous destinations,” Frankie says.

"You said anywhere. That's where I want."

"The great state of Michigan.” He leans back in the plush seat beneath him. “Okay. I think I can make that happen." His phone chimes. Frankie pulls it from his pocket to take a look. "Mia's on her way."

"What? Why?"

"I called her," he admits.

"She won't be here in time, and then I'll be in surgery for a while," you say. Five hours. Three hundred minutes, give or take, to make or break your life. "I won't be discharged for a few days."

"I'll be here. We both will," Frankie says.

"You don't have to—"

"I'll be here," he repeats, firmer this time. The look in his eyes is fierce; halfway between love and a safety net, your own face reflecting back at you.

Part of you, jagged and lingering, wants to call his bluff—expect the worst and you aren't disappointed when it happens. But no, Frankie looks serious. His face is stone, jaw set tight as he holds your gaze. You have no choice but to trust him. Forever and always.

So you nod, squeezing his hand. "Okay."

tags! @wannab-urs @iamskyereads @anoverwhelmingdin

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier fanfiction #santiago garcia #pedrostories #fic: the world tipped on its side #pedro pascal fanfiction

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