the best part of pride was being called a theythemmie while shitfaced in the club after and immediately breaking down into heaving sobs because suddenly there was a physical space where it was real and all kinds of strangers just giving me hugs and telling me I'll be okay like i got babied i got held and i know none of us knew each other but I'd never felt more like i belonged somewhere what a night

ex [a.bonmati x reader]

prompt: aitana pushes you away after the break-up, but you want to be more than just past lovers.

author notes: a full fledged fic? who would have thought 🙇🏽‍♀️ anyways this fic is angsty, but i swear it's not anything toxic. enjoy it 💕

playing ex by kiana lede 🎵

hey, hm

we went from 2 am calls to

zero communication, yeah

we spent too long in heaven that

we felt the elevation

just 'cause it's different and

we're not the same

doesn't mean things have to change

i got no trouble with my pride,

got trouble cutting ties

friendship breakups are bone-crushing, worse than actual relationship breakups most of the time. if you knew the moment aitana left out of your place that day meant to the end of a years long friendship, maybe you would have figured it out. aitana was a constant figure in your life since you were only eleven. with you both playing at a youth academy a friendship was bound to emerge and that it did. the spainard should became one of your closest friends as the years went by.

by your late teens, she was basically a part of your family. coming over to your family home almost everyday and even staying overnight when it was too late to make the trip back home. you two watched each other change from awkward eleven year olds to established adults. the bond between you two was special; aitana always said so. you were her bestfriend, her soulmate, practically the love of her life. eventually that deep friendship blurred into something more, but the short spainard didn't address how intimate the friendship has gotten by the time you were both twenty-two, so you didn't either. what's the point of ruining a good thing over feelings you don't even know are repiocated?

when you went overseas to the wsl, aitana was heartbroken. she was planning on confessing to you right on your twenty-third birthday, but no, you just had to take a different direction in your career.

the night before you had to leave for manchester, you and aitana were sitting on the beach. side by side. shoulder to shoulder. it's around nine pm, so time was ticking by. you would have to head home soon to get a good amount of rest for your morning flight and by the silence between aitana and you, she didn't like that fact.

"why are you leaving?" she breaks the silence, mumbling. her head leans over to rest against yours. the question sounds so sad coming from her lips that you almost want to tell you that no, you weren't leaving. weren't leaving barcelona. weren't leaving her. but you couldn't so you just sigh.

"i want to try something new. you know, see a new style of football," you try to explain but the words don't sound that convincing. you didn't add in how you wanted to get away from aitana so you could settle your feelings. you didn't add in the fact your contract was only for a year and a few months, not even the media mentioned the length of your contract with manchester city.

"you can try new things here, no?" aitana leans away before turning her head to look at you. her eyebrows are furrowed; showing the slight annoyance in her mood. "barcelona has been trying new things, so why won't you stay?" she says, no, nearly begs to know.

you interlock your hands with hers. giving them a gentle squeeze before saying, "i swear i want to stay. i would never want to be apart from you, but it's not just that.."

"then what is it? i'll try to fix it, i'll help you fix it. just tell me and we can figure it out. we always do," her eyes glance into yours. the sad pout on her lips makes you want to just cancel your flight and stay here in spain, but you can't so you just pull her into a hug. the tears start to flow from her the moment aitana stuffs her face into your neck. "it feels like i have never been without you.." she cried into your skin. you fight your own tears, rubbing her back gently.

some may say that display of emotion was dramatic, but they just didn't understand how deep you and aitana's friendship went. you two spent nearly every moment together, off the field and on the field. without each other to be physically around all the time, who would fill that empty spot in you two's lives now?

maybe aitana would react to the news better if you confessed your feelings then, but it was too late to even try to in the moment. you just let her cry as you comfort her. inviting her over to your place afterwards to spend one last night together.

when you did come back to barcelona after your contract with manchester city ended, aitana cried again in your arms. this time out of happiness instead of sadness. the spainard became determined to keep you in spain for the rest of your career; she couldn't deal with just facetimes and texts anymore.

the rest of the barcleona team welcomed you back with open arms. teasing you about how you better not leave home ever again. you didn't ever plan to anyway, so you would just joke back.

your plan to leave spain and get over your feelings for aitana was an absolute fail. everytime you heard her voice over the phone your feelings just got bigger. you would rather endlessly want more with her than be away from aitana any longer.

you slip right back into your role in the team and in aitana's life. going over her house after practice everyday, cuddling while watching movies, becoming a great duo on the pitch again, and all the other stuff you two always do. your feelings were still there but you always pushed them away. not wanting to ruin a good thing. you had just got your best friend back.

fast forward to aitana's twenty fifth birthday. the short spainard had a large dinner with her family and her barcelona teammates. afterwards, it was her and you, a little tipsy on the balcony of her apartment. she was getting horribly handsy, but it didn't bother you. people in spain are just naturally affectionate and this was also your bestfriend, your aitana. she could touch you however she liked. it wasn't until she pulled away from you, but not too far, her hands holding onto your hips.

"y/n.." she says softly. looking up at you with a nervous look in her eyes. your heart races at not only how beautiful she looks in that moment, but also the nervousness in her eyes; aitana is never nervous around you. she doesn't have to. you are her bestfriend, her y/n, her rock. she can be whatever she wants around you. however she wants.

"what is it?" you whisper out, moving your hand to push some of her hair behind her right ear. she leans in closer. eyes a little dazed from the wine she drank earlier.

"i like you.. a lot. no, i love you a lot," she says. you chuckle before saying, "of course you do. what would you do without me." your heart races so fast hearing her speak. her words carry a different tone than before when she usually says those three words. why did it feel different now?

aitana pouts before furrowing her brows. obviously annoyed you haven't caught on to the different meaning behind her words. this i love you wasn't the same one she first said back when she was thirteen, when she realized she wanted you to stay around in her life forever as her best friend. this was more than that. "no.. i love you. i just want to kiss you.." she says.

you widen your eyes before smiling. aitana actually returned your feelings? before you can fully react she pulls you into a kiss. too impatient to hear your verbal response. the kiss is pretty messy with aitana being drunker than you, but still you savor it. your first kiss with aitana is worth remembering.

when she pulls away she pouts away, "i didn't ask you if you liked me back or if you even wanted a kiss." you giggle and peck the pout off of her lips, "of course i like you back."

after that you two got together. your relationship didn't feel that different though, just with more kisses and more than before. whenever you got jealous you actually had the right to act on it. there were many perks that came along with being consider aitana's girlfriend rather than just her best friend. however there were some setbacks as well.

you realized people were right when they said just because someone is a good friend, doesn't mean they would be a good girlfriend. not to say aitana was a bad girlfriend, but she struggled to understand why you would get jealous when she would be incredibly touchy with others. she didn't want to reveal your relationship to the public, perfectly fine with only the people in you two's personal life knowing about the change between you. which wasn't so bad until you see how many people think she's dating someone else and have to fight the urge to post about how she's yours. she was the worse at arguments. quicker to do the silent treatment than to try to work anything out. it was a bad habit from your friendship that you knew she had and just dealt with because she was your bestfriend, you knew how to get around it, but in a relationship with her you didn't want to. you wanted to communicate like a healthy couple should.

everything came to a head a few days after your twenty-sixth birthday. almost a year after aitana confessed to you.

the barcelona team have dragged you out for a good time in the club since your birthday was on a match-day, meaning you couldn't go out like you wanted to. aitana was clinging to you the entire night until she was swept away by some blonde stranger.

you were sipping on your drink, a glare directed right at the blonde whose hands were on your girlfriend as they danced. why did you let her pull aitana away again? because your feet were hurting? yeah well now your heart was. when you finally had enough at the sight of that stranger moving her hands down from aitana's waist to her hips, you pull her away. ignoring the spainard's complaints as you pull her all the way outside. quick to take your jacket off to make sure she didn't feel cold in the paris winds; you may be annoyed at her, but you still love her.

"why were you letting her be all over you?" you want to shout badly, but instead just talk calmly. not wanting to draw attention to the fact two barcelona players were outside about to argue.

"it was just a dance, amor."

"it wasn't just a dance. she obviously wants you," you grab onto her arm, holding in a soft grip before saying, "why can't you act like you have a girl? that you aren't single."

aitana frowns hearing your words. where was this coming from? she quickly tries to deny your statement, "i do. it was never going to go further than dancing."

"that was already too far."

"then why didn't you say anything?"

"why should i have to? you should know that nobody would be fine with some woman dancing with their girlfriend like that!" you say in a hushed tone. pulling aitana closer so that nobody would hear the conversation between you two. the confused look on aitana's face makes your heart hurt. why didn't you communicate your feelings? you always hated how she goes straight to silent treatment, but you go straight to being angry every single time.

"you have never been angry about this before," she replies. fighting the instinct in her to just shut down and go back into the club. she can't even if she wanted to with you holding onto her.

"before what? before this situation or before we got together? i'm not just your bestfriend anymore, i'm your girlfriend, act like it!" you finally let out all the frustration from previous times where aitana just didn't get it. aitana glares at you before shaking her head. "don't tell me what to do. don't yell at me! yes, you're my girlfriend and i'm yours but you don't control me. i'm an adult, so treat me like it!" she argued back. pulling herself out of your grasp harshly before rushing back into the club. leaving you by herself outside.

aitana ignored you for nearly two days. it felt like a year with no texts from her, no calls her, and her refusing to hang out with all the other barcleona players who went to brunch right after the night at the club. even when you all went on the plane to head back to spain, she sat next to alexia. sleeping the entire flight away and being the first to get off. you knew you screwed up and it was your entire fault for her behavior even if it wasn't the healthiest. you should have communicated better even with your frustration.

finally when the silence all got too much, you went over to aitana's apartment. it only takes two knocks for aitana to open up. she sighs once she sees it's you, but doesn't turn you away. instead letting you inside silently. walking over to her couch while you slip your shoes off at the door. your eyes noticing your jacket from the night at the club hanging on a hook near the door.

"aitana.." you move over to the couch, sitting beside her with some space left between you two. she scoots closer which is a good sign that the anger from before isn't still present, but still the silence made you nervous.

"aitan-" you don't get to finish your sentence before aitana speaks. "i'm sorry.." she says with her head down, "i get what you were saying that night. i shouldn't had let her just be all over me and at the time i didn't understand, but after thinking about it, you're right. i'm so used to thinking about you as my bestfriend rather than my girlfriend that i overstep."

the genuine regret in her voice makes you want to reconsider the reason you came over here; to break up with aitana. it has been on your mind for a while now, but that day in paris was just the last push you needed to go through with it. that's not the only reason you're here though. you wanted to come check up on aitana and make sure your words didn't hurt her too deeply, you still love her but it feels like you're slowly falling out of love with her.

"aitana, listen. i love you, okay?" you smile when she lifts her head up. a happy look on her face as she listens to you. "it's just.. i don't think we were meant to be more than best friends. you're my world i swear and i love you but not like this.. anymore," aitana's face immediately drops after you finish speaking.

when she saw you at her door she thought, yes, i could fix it but instead this visit is just the death to the relationship she's been craving from you for a while now.

"so you want to break up? why..?" aitana's voice cracks, "why are you leaving me again? i don't get it."

tears start to flow from her eyes before she could stop them. this break up reminds her of when you left for manchester; she felt like she lost you. now she's losing you again.

you sit there awkwardly, not knowing what to say. seeing aitana cry makes you cry as well. you pull her into a hug that she accepts quickly; even when you're breaking her heart, she clings to you. as her bestfriend you have always been her source of comfort, but now you're her source of pain as well. a condiaction that she's not willing to think about.

for the rest of the night, aitana clings to you. not allowing you to do anything without her by your side and eventually you two fall asleep in her bed. with her face nuzzled into your neck, her arms wrapped around your waist, her legs tangled with yours.

the next day you didn't leave her apartment until three in the afternoon. aitana almost begged you to stay, but she just lets you leave. she loves so much that she will respect your choices and if that means breaking up than she will respect that.

after the break-up, it's like aitana continued on the silent treatment. hardly replying to your texts or answering your calls, she stopped sitting by you everywhere, no more cracking jokes while in the locker room, she just disappeared from your life. it was just like when you left for manchester expect that she didn't try to stay connected.

and you understand why, you would never hate her for it. she's trying to get over you and can't do that if you two are acting like the closest people ever but still it hurts. hurts so bad. you have never been without aitana since you were eleven years old. she was always there, being her cute self. and now she's gone; it feels like your world is collapsing.

you may have broken up with aitana, but you still love her. you're just not in love with her.

you want your best friend back.

i don't wanna be your ex

we way too good at being friends

can we still hangout

on the low, get wild

i don't wanna be your,

i don't wanna be your

hit ya girl up with a text,

when you're alone and feeling stressed

i don't gotta be in love with you, to love you

i don't wanna be your, so

don't treat me like your

e-e-e-e, e-e-ex

i don't want to be your

e-e-e-e, e-e-ex

without aitana, you felt lonely. you have tons of friends outside of aitana of course. you're close with all of your fellow barcelona teammates and have made a reputation of being friends with many other women footballers. then there are your childhood friends from your schooldays that you cherish with your entire spirit. but none of them could compare to aitana. she has been and still is your number one.

all those nights where you held eachother, the daily ice cream trips you two would go on, the endless movie nights could never be replaced by anyone else. it just wasn't the same.

the rest of the barcelona team realized you two broke up as the days went past. when aitana who would usually jump up at the first opportunity to pair up with you for training exercises instead choose to pair up with ona, everyone knew something was up. their suspicions were confirmed when you left before aitana. unlike before when aitana and you would leave together, either going to get food together or going home together.

nobody wanted to be one to ask the question they knew the answer to, so everyone acted like everything was fine. aitana and you still connected on the pitch, but off of it that connection was dead and cold.

aitana wasn't doing any better than you mentally. she felt alone, even when she was hanging out with alexia or ingrid. her mind always drifted back to you, but the hurt you caused to her heart makes her want to resent you. to punish you for leaving her. she's know this is unreasonable, childish, and partially true because you love her.

aitana knows you love her dearly, she can see it in your eyes but it isn't the love she holds for you. it's just as deep, just as intimate, just as special but not romantic anymore and that kills her.

her own romantic feelings were slowly fading though and the yearning for you was getting stronger. not as her girlfriend, but as her bestfriend. she's used to waking up to either you cuddling her or a text from you saying good morning. now she has neither, she hates that. she wants you, but feels too stubborn to do it just yet.

whenever aitana felt down, she would go through you two's messages. her mood getting better just thinking about all the moments attached to the texts. she scrolls through her photos of you, trying not to just call you and hear your voice. she craves you deeply, but won't let you know.

a month passed then two then three.

aitana ignoring you was becoming old. you want to be back in her life, you need to be. she's your soulmate; has been since you were both eleven. a life without her doesn't sound right, so you become determined to make her come back to your arms. seeing aitana be so loving to everyone else while giving you the cold shoulder was incredibly annoying and heartbreaking.

you aren't sure on how to get aitana to pay attention to you. she seemed set on ignoring you for the rest of you two's careers, but you weren't going to allow that.

one day you just decide to take a leap of fate by calling her. the phone rings for so long you almost think she isn't going to answer, but she does. aitana doesn't say a thing, but you can tell she's on the other line. her breathing clear as day.

"tana..?" you say softly, slightly nervous. it feels strange to feel nervous when talking to aitana. it reminds you of the first time you two met as children. feeling too shy to speak to the talented eleven year old that was aitana. she took the first step by handing you a freezepop after practice one day, scooting closer to you before eating her one. you felt it in your spirit that she was made to be your bestfriend then.

"yeah?" she replies. her tone not being venomous like you thought it would be.

"can we hang out or just talk? i miss your voice.."

"but you hear my voice everyday, no?" aitana jokes. you roll your eyes at quick she is to make the conversation light, but it's an endearing trait you love about her. quickly she gets more serious, "why? why would you want to be around your ex?"

you groan at hearing the word ex escape her mouth. in your mind that small relationship was just a chapter in your friendship with aitana, not anything that holds any impact. you want her to think of you as her best friend, not her ex.

"because you aren't just my ex, aitana. you're my best friend and i can't stand another day without spending time with you," you say. aitana goes silent on the other line. her silence makes you frown; was she going to grow angry that you aren't fully acknowledging the fact the feelings between you two were very much real?

it takes a minute but aitana eventually says, "i miss you too. can i come see you..?"

the smile on your lips was probably the warmest you have ever smiled. "yeah. let's meet at that ice cream shop, you know, the one we always go to," you say. aitana hastily agrees before hanging up.

you couldn't wait to see her.

let's skip the awkward run-ins, or

pretending like we're strangers

and get back to how we started, yeah

don't pour water on fire

just 'cause it's different and we're not the same

doesn't mean things have to change

i got no trouble with my pride,

got trouble cutting ties

seeing the familiar ice cream shop that aitana and you have been regulars at since you were eleven brings back the best memories. the first time you two became super close, the first time aitana comforted you, the first time you and aitana considered eachother bestfriends. it all rushes back as you walk through that simple white door where the paint has been peeling off for years now, but nobody ever fixes it.

you arrive twenty minutes before aitana is supposed to meet you here, wanting to have some time to breathe and figure out what to say. this would be the first time talking face to face where you weren't saying soccer related things in three months.

"been missing you," the old lady behind the counter, esperanza, says. she's been here since forever. you don't remember a moment where she wasn't working the counter. she knew all of you and aitana's favorites.

"missed you more. sorry for not coming around as much," you say. happily accepting the vanilla ice cream she hands you. esperanza doesn't let you pay, saying it's on the house since she's been missing you.

"it's okay. where is your little friend?" she questions. you just shrug before shaking your head, "she's coming. she would never miss seeing you."

esperanza chuckles at that before gesturing for you to go sit down, so your ice cream wouldn't melt. you sit at one of the tables near the window. the shop wasn't huge, but it was homey. with various decorations that have been up since you first came here. everything was same it felt like expect for the relationship between aitana and you. the rest of your lives seem to be frozen in time while the friendship between you two was speeding past.

you look out the window, thinking about what to say. would aitana even show? hopefully, she isn't the type to just blow someone off even when angry. she cares about others time. your question is answered when aitana passes by the window before coming through the door.

"hi esperanza! i have missed you, you know," she says with a huge smile on her face. not even noticing you near the window as she comes over to the counter. it isn't until she finishes her conversation with esperanza and gets her strawberry flavored ice cream before she spots you. turning to see you at the window. the way her body tenses makes you cringe; is this how everything is going to be for now on?

you stand, half eaten ice cream in hand, and walk out of the shop. why were you moving away from her like she's some stranger? you couldn't help yourself, seeing her stand there awkwardly makes you want to scream. however you don't go far. sitting down on the pavement in front of the shop; this street doesn't allow cars and it wasn't really busy on thursdays, so there was no one to bother you or spot a top footballer sitting outside of some quaint ice cream shop.

aitana is still standing in the shop. frowning as she looks out the window and see you just sitting there on the pavement, like you always do when it's too hot to stay inside of the shop, but you weren't out there because of the heat this time around. it was because of her.

she didn't mean to just fall silent once she saw you. aitana had so much to say, but hardly the words to express it. seeing esperanza than you seriously brighten up her day that she froze up a bit. hopefully you won't shut her out.

"go talk to her. she misses you," esperanza says, leaning against the counter. before aitana can question her words, esperanza says, "i'm an old woman. i know these things. do you know how many people come in and out of here with love stories? she loves you. talk to her and make whatever this is right. you guys almost made my shop chillier than the ice cream."

esperanza's words make aitana really realize she wants to make this right. her feelings for you were still lingering in her mind, but she could care less; she needs to talk to you.

aitana walks out of the ice cream shop. sitting down right next to you on the pavement, shoulder to shoulder. your ice cream is completely gone by now, aitana takes that as an opportunity to start up a conversation. "you just couldn't wait?" she jokes, gesturing to your hand that had a lack of an ice cream cone in it.

you look at her in confusion before giggling loudly. "not my fault that you are such a slow eater," you joke back. pointing to her strawberry ice cream that was half melted by now. aitana tries to eat the rest of her ice cream quickly, but that doesn't really help as her ice cream melts away.

you two fall back into your roles. easily getting comfortable again despite the obvious conversation that needs to be had. you want to bring up what happened, but can't, worried that it will ruin the atmosphere between you. aitana seems to worry about the same thing as she says nothing about it, but that doesn't you two don't enjoy yourselves and sorta apologize in your own little ways.

aitana brings up how you know she can be really stubborn sometimes as a joke and you easily tease her about it before she teases you about your anger issues.

you two don't get to fully apologize that day, but you do rekindle a friendship that almost went stale.

i don't wanna be your ex

we way too good at being friends

can we still hangout

on the low, get wild

i don't wanna be your,

i don't wanna be your

hit ya girl up with a text,

when you're alone and feeling stressed

i don't gotta be in love with you, to love you

i don't wanna be your,

so don't treat me like your

e-e-e-e, e-e-ex

i don't want to be your

e-e-e-e, e-e-ex

don't act like i don't care for you

cause you know i'd always be there for you (oh)

don't act like i don't care for ya

cause you know i'd always be there for you

i don't want to be your ex

we're way too good at being friends

can we still hangout on the low get wild

i don't want to be your, i don't want to be your

i don't wanna be your ex

we way too good at being friends (yeah)

can we still hangout

on the low, get wild

i don't wanna be your, i don't wanna be your

hit ya girl up with a text,

when you're alone and feeling stressed

i don't gotta be in love with you,

to love you (love you)

i don't wanna be your, so

don't treat me like your

e-e-e-e, e-e-ex

i don't want to be your

e-e-e-e, e-e-ex

e-e-e-e, e-e-ex

i don't want to be your

e-e-e-e, e-e-ex

it takes a while for aitana and you to fully become comfortable with eachother. you two start to hang out more outside of soccer just like before; visiting that same ice cream shop nearly everyday.

those unsaid feelings still hang in-between you two, but you refuse to be the one to address them. even though you said you would fix it, if things are going well, why mention it? you were afraid of ruining what aitana and you have again. running around the topic wasn't doing either of you favors either. you couldn't bring up new crushes like you used to because you didn't know if aitana had moved on fully yet.

aitana was having a mental challenge of her own; she wanted closure. the break up to her felt so sudden that she had no time to process it even when she spent months not talking to you. during those months all she did was yearn for you, so it wasn't that beneficial. her feelings for you had definitely faded into something small; aitana will probably always like you in that way for a tiny amount but the platonic love she has for is even stronger. she just wants to be apart of your life as your best friend. the one you can always trust.

how can she get to that point fully if she doesn't express how she's feeling? aitana ponders about this for nearly five days. the question becoming larger and larger in her head everytime she saw you until she had to say something.

"y/n, want to come over to my place today?" aitana asks as you two walk around on the practice field. she's holding her waterbottle in one hand and yours in the other. you shrug before saying, "what do you think?"

right after practice you two go to aitana's apartment. she convinces to hold her bag all the way up to her apartment floor, reminding you that she held your waterbottle earlier. you jokily grumble about how you will never let her do something for you again. the atmosphere between you is light for nearly a full hour. aitana makes a large salad for you too even though you begged for her to add chicken pieces in it; she refused.

"tana, stop," you groan softly. your eyebrows furrowed together as you push her with your shoulder. currently you are trying to beat her in fifa, but she's been distracting you the entire game. laughing loudly during a game should be a crime with how loud aitana can be when she wants.

"but y/nnn. i wanna win," she giggles. pushing you back which lets her win the game. you roll your eyes, setting your controller down on her coffee table. mentally you remind yourself to tickle her for revenge later on. suddenly as aitana sets down her controller, the air around you two feel so serious.

she gives you a nervous glance, you thought you two were over this awkward phase? why is she acting so nervous now?

aitana grabs onto your hand before resting her head against your shoulder. you rest your head against hers, squeezing her hand gently to let her know to not be nervous. "i have something to say.." she says. you let out a sigh; now it's your turn to be nervous.

"why did you break up with me? i just want to know.." she trails off, glancing at you to see your reaction. why does it feel like you two are walking on eye shells around eachother? it's annoying.

you sigh before saying, "because i realized we weren't meant to be more than bestfriends and that's not in a bad way. i love you so much. i can't live without you. when we weren't friends, i lost my mind. all i want in life is to be with you."

aitana stares at you for a moment before smiling, "i love you too. let's promise to never push each other away again?" she holds out her pinky to you. just like back when you two held out your pinkies and promised to be friends forever at eleven. "promise," you say, linking your pinky with hers.

you pull her close into a hug, just relieved you now fully have your best friend back. you may not be in love with her, but you do love her.

© THINKINGABOUTJAEDYN

Here's a translation/explanation of L'Amour Dans Le Mauvais Temps for @love-love-you. There's a lot of metaphors/play on words, so it's very long...

Nous y voilà, toi et moi sur notre sommet Ces deux montagnes, de fierté à soulever

Here we are, you and I on our peaks Those two mountains, we carry them with pride

Here what he means is that him and his signifiant other have been accumulating a lot in this relationship, and they've both reached their limit (peak). The problems have accumulated (mountains) in the relationship, but neither of them will say something/apologize to the other. He says they both actually carry their mistakes with pride.

À qui la faute, celle qu'on se rejette chaque fois Le premier qui saute, sera-t-il le fou ou le roi?

Who's fault is it? The one [fault] we keep denying and blaming on each other The first one of us who will jump, will he be a fool or the king?

They are both guilty, and here he wonders who will be the first one to own up his mistakes. He says "jump" to build on the mountain metaphor: who will be the first to jump from the mountain, to own up their mistakes? Will the other person fight back and treat them like a fool/like they are crazy, or agree and surrender, meaning they lost and the other person who jumped is crowned “king” of the fight?

Après nous, le déluge, se laisser tomber, dévaler Jusqu'à un refuge, jusqu'à s'oublier

After us, the flood, we let ourselves fall down the mountain Until we reach refuge, until we forget ourselves

“Après nous, le déluge” is an expression in french, it basically means that a person will do anything for their own sake, without thinking of how their actions will affect everyone around them, after the person’s death. Basically by using it here, he means the metaphorical death of the relationship: meaning they’ll both ruin each other until it’s over, without caring about what comes after. They both would let the other “fall down the mountain”, take the blame for this relationship. They’re in so deep that they both forgot who they are, and why they are together. They don’t remember who they were before

Mon amour, personne à l'horizon Plus que le temps assassin

My love, no one is on the horizon All that’s left is time, that is killing us slowly

The next two are harder to explain, sorry: he was saying before that they forgot themselves, and here he says that there is no one on the horizon, but it’s not literal. He means two things: first, that neither of them seem like they are going to jump, and second, that there is nothing left inside of them, no one is there. All they have left is those last few moments together. Another french expression is “le temps est assassin”, which means “time kills”, and that’s what he refers to here. He means that all that’s left is the time they have together, and even this is killing them. 

Personne et s'il n'y a plus de saisons Pourquoi écouter en vain La météo cruelle, moi j'aime autant Faire l'amour dans le mauvais temps

No one [is on the horizon], and if there are no more seasons left Why listen in vain to The cruel weather forecast, as for me I like it just as much To make love in the bad times [as in the good times]

This one has lots of imagery too, I’m sorry: He repeats again that no one is there, and he says: well, if we have no more “seasons” (time) left that they will spend together after this one, what is the point to pay attention to their fights? Instead of fights, he says “the cruel weather forecast”, because in french, “temps”, means both time and weather. So he uses that double meaning: he was talking about how their time together is killing their relationship, and how they don’t have much time left together, and then switches to the second meaning, which is the weather. He does this because “mauvais temps” as an expression can mean bad weather, but also bad times. So he says: I personally don’t mind making love during the bad times of our relationship, it’s just the same as doing it during the good times, so why must I bother and listen to what you have to say, and try to keep up with the “status” of our relationship (if we are doing good or fighting). He means that their time is limited together anyway, so why waste time talking when they could be making love. He used the play on words for weather/times in the last line, that is why he referred to their relationship status as the weather forecast in the line before. 

Nous voilà bien  à guetter le premier qui glisse Et brisera le lien assis au bord du précipice

Here we are, watching impatiently for the first one of us who slips And will break the bond which is already on the edge of the precipice

Here, he goes back to the mountain metaphor. They are both waiting for time to kill this relationship, but they’re almost impatient for it to happens. He uses “guetter”, which implies that the only think they’re both doing is watching the other, none of them will look away until one falls. By falling (which in the begining of the song he implies means putting their pride away and starting a real discussion concerning the issues in this relationship), this person will break the bond, their relationship, which is already fragile and breakable, it is sitting on the edge of the precipice. This sentence is really beautiful considering he started the song by saying that they are both on the peak of two different mountains, so here it’s almost a reminder to the beginnning of the song, he says their relationship is a thin line that connects them both, and is going to fall and break at any moment. 

On l'apprendra, y'a que les montagnes qui ne Se rencontrent pas, bien trop fières pour faire un seul pas

And only then we will learn that there mountains are the only ones that Do not meet in the middle, because they are too proud to take a single step  

Finally, he says that only when this all will happen, when they break up, they will finally understand that the only things in this world that do not meet in the middle are mountains. He uses “rencontrent’, which means, meet, but also come to an agreement, and also more literally, are connected physically. So it works in the sentence since the two mountains are not physically connected, and it works in terms of the song since neither of them will compromise for the other. At the end, he goes back to the theme of them having too much pride to own up their mistakes and try to apologize and fix the issues in this relationship. He says the mountains are too proud to take a single step to meet the other in the middle. This is also nice, because all throughout the song, he talks about falling and jumping off of the mountain, which both of them considered to be the only possible outcomes for this relationship, when really they were both ignoring the third option, which would be to swalow their pride and actually have an honest conversation about what is going wrong. 

Daredevil - Haikyuu x Reader

Summary: Tanaka (y/n), younger sister of Tanaka Ryunosuke! You’ve been watching your brother play volleyball since you both we just kids. You found your own passion, which you quickly gave up on due to... reasons. It happened halfway through your last year of middle school, then having to go to Ryu’s practices after school to wait to walk home with him. After spending your last year along side him and the team, you’ve come to cherish your time with Karasuno’s Volleyball Club. Now that you’re entering high school, you decided you wouldn’t go back to the past and stick with your new found interest; to help Kiyoko with managing the team of lovely crows! However, these other first years are something else; will you be able to handle them? Will you be able to handle your over protective brother? Most importantly, can you find your own wings while helping the others fly high? The past can’t stayed buried forever after all.

Pairings: Karasuno First Years x Reader; Kei Tsukkishima x Reader; Tadashi Yamaguchi x Reader; Tobio Kageyama x Reader; Shoyo Hinata x Reader

Warnings: Cursing

MASTERLIST

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Chapter 1 - First Day Back

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“Oni-chan,” you sigh, irritated at your brother as he put his jacket on, “Can you hurry up?”

Your brother simply waved you off, glancing at you with sleep still prominent in his eyes. You sigh again, louder just so he could hear it.

You love Ryu, you do, but having to deal with him in the morning was nothing short of a pain; he was always half asleep, always slow. Half of the time you would start to walk without him, having to contain an eye roll as he’d run to catch up with you. Even though he was a year older than you, he had insisted on being a good big brother and walking you to Oujitsu Middle. However, now that was all different, you were finally attending Karasuno along with him so he didn’t have to worry about taking you to school and running to his own. 

Once he finally decided to move his lazy ass, you both left the house with silent goodbye to your sleeping elder sister. You smooth your skirt, glaring at him from the corner of your eye. 

“Oni-chan, it’s my first day you know, you could’ve tried to put in a little more effort to leave early so we wouldn’t be late.”

“Ah, sorry (y/n)-chan. It’s just hard to wake up in the mornings, yanno?” He yawns loudly, arms raised high as he stretches.

“Maybe you should go to bed sooner, instead of kissing photos of Kiyoko-senpai all night long-”

“Hah, shut up punk I do not!”

He threw his arms around you, trapping you against his chest as he brought a hand up to give you a noogie.

“RYU YOU JERK, LET ME GO!”

“THEN DON’T MAKE OF YOUR AWESOME BIG BROTHER!”

You swat his hands away as he laughs at the mess of your hair.

“Ne, that’s a good look for you, (y/n)-chan~” He teases.

“You’re worse than nee-chan.” 

He shudders at the mention of your guys’ sister, and you take that moment while he’s distracted to strike; you smack the back of Ryu’s shaven head, the sound loud and sharp.

“Ouch, what the hell!?” He whines, rubbing his head tenderly.

“That’s what you get,” you huff, fixing your appearance before sticking your tongue out at him, “not my fault you decided to go bald, jerk-suke!”

“You’re so lame, nerd-(/n),” he grunts, shoving you lightly as the gates appear in your line of sight, “Now get to class before I kick your ass. You want help on where to go, need me to walk you?”

He stops at the gate in hopes you’d accept, but pouts as you continue walking and wave him off.

“Nope, I’m good. Thanks anyway, oni-chan, I’ll see you after school.”

“We’re practicing at the gym right after!” He yells out, sighing as you only wave him off once more.

Tanaka clicks his tongue, a little worried about you, but overall knowing you’d be fine. With what happened after last year, he felt bad that you felt as if you had to stick with him at his own club, but if that’s what you wanted then he wouldn’t push it.

As long as you were happy, he didn’t care; it also helped that he wouldn’t have to worry anymore, knowing you’d be a couple feet away.

After walking away from your brother, you head up to the board to see the class lists posted, trying to find your class. You spot your name on the roster and head towards class four, still a little in shock of how you made it to the college prep class, your exam scores not only shocking you but the rest of your family. Your two older idiot siblings had always managed to just barely scrape together passing scores; well you had to give Saeko some credit, she was in college after all-even if she really didn’t care about her core classes.

You got to your class with no problems, but were somewhat dreading the idea of walking in since you expected it to be somewhat full with classes starting soon. You weren’t late, per say, but you were by no means early.

‘Thanks oni-chan.’ You think bitterly, sighing as you slide the doors open.

To your frustration, your assumption was correct; the classroom was already full of first years, and you had to hold back an irritated groan as all the good spots were taken. Glancing around, you spot a seat that was going to have to be the next best thing for now; it was somewhat towards the back of the class, the next seat over from the window-the seat you truly wanted. Slipping off your bag from your shoulder, you hang it on the hook beneath your proclaimed desk as you sit down with a gentle breath of relief. 

Light music catches your attention, moving your head ever-so-slightly to peer at the boy sitting next to you. His headphones were playing loud music, the genre hard to catch as it was muffled just enough to leave the people around him wondering what it could be. You take in his appearance, short blond locks and thin framed glasses that hid his eyes; he was also pretty tall, even though he was sitting down you could tell. He looked as bored as you knew you were going to be as the day progressed-

Hell, you were already bored and the day hasn’t even started yet.

You had intended to turn away right after the initial glance, when his sharp gaze met your own; you had been taken aback by that single look, his face remaining unchanging but those now visible amber eyes overflowing in emotion.

The contrast intrigued you.

You purse your lips, overall unaffected by his stare, before turning to look back towards the front of the classroom. A grunt of distaste fills your ears, and you bite your tongue to hold in a retort. You continue to tell yourself to ignore him, not wanting to get caught up in drama on the first day.

Your eyes unintentionally flutter back over to the boy as his music comes out crisper, his headphones sliding off his head to rest on his shoulders. 

It wasn’t like you were trying to stare, it was just the music had caught your attention.. 

So when his eyes instantly caught your gaze again, eyes now a harsh glare, you knew that you wouldn’t avoid the drama this time. 

“What do you want.”

You raise a brow, his voice sounding calm despite the look on his face.

“Nothing?”

“Then, could you stop looking at me.” His tone turned upbeat, a sickly sweet smile on his face.

You wanted to gag at how fake it was.

You click your tongue instead, giving him a once over before staring straight back into his eyes with your own steady gaze. You weren’t going to lose this, whatever it was.

“Then could you keep it down next time? I, and I’m sure anyone else, wouldn’t want to look at you without reason. Thanks.” You shoot him the same fake smile he gave you.

You saw his smile falter, and you just stare, amused at his crumbling facade. 

“You must’ve had a good reason then, since this wasn’t the first look, midget.”

“Hah,” you both glare at each other, the tension rising, “you’ve got some nerve-”

“Nerve, smarts, height. Everything you don’t.”

You felt your face contort, knowing your inner Tanaka-special-look was shining through. This guy looked anything but intimidated, looking down at you with amusement instead.

“Seems like I have all the looks too, what an ugly face you’re making there, chibi-chan. Is that why you’ve been staring at me, hm?”

The anger coursed through your body, about to push yourself to stand when a brunette sitting in front of the blond turned around, waving his arms.

“Tsukki, you shouldn’t tease like that,” he glanced at you with a shy smile, “S-sorry about that, please don’t take any offence.”

You raise a brow in question, looking at both boys before sighing out as you settled into your seat again. Your gaze turns from the freckled boy, who looked distressed and exasperated all at once, and towards the blond asshole to your left. 

“Tch, make sure you keep your sass to yourself, Tsukki.”

“Don’t call me that.” He snapped, and you only snicker at his frustration.

“Or what? What are you going to do, Tsukki-chan~.”

The sensei walked in right after, cutting off anything he was going to say.

It was always to get the last word in, especially when you got looks like that; amber eyes burning in annoyance. 

-----

The rest of class went by without a hitch; the welcoming ceremony was held right after lunch, and you felt yourself snickering as you saw the-painfully obvious-wig atop your vice’s head. However unfortunately, you were forced to stand next to Tsukki, being his desk neighbor and all.

“You laugh at the most idiotic things, chibi-chan. You must only have a few functioning brain cells.” He gave a smug smile.

“Oi, do you ever shut up? Attention wh-”

“Y-you guys might want to quiet it down..” Yamaguchi, as you learned during the lunch period you spent with them, whispered from in front of the both of you.

You had decided to stay in your seat for lunch and, to your dismay, the grumpy blond giant and his friend had the same idea. You didn’t want to hurt your pride by seeming like a coward, so you stayed in your seat and faced him head on instead of getting up and running away.

The entire lunch period was full of insults and fighting between the both of you, to which poor Yamaguchi had tried to defuse. You realized you liked the brunette, he was nice-maybe a little dumb considering he was friends with the asshole, but nice. Although, he did join in on throwing some teases your way, but you thought they were more cute than anything. He had blushed when you said it out loud, and you could only laugh at his flustered expression. 

“Ah, sorry Yamaguchi-kun.” You sigh loudly, causing other students to look at the scene. 

Yamaguchi flushed at the attention, turning back to the speeches as Tsukkishima huffed another insult under his breath; an insult you gracefully ignored, not wanting to get in trouble on your first day for yelling in the auditorium.

-----

Once the academic school day ended, you felt a slight amount of excitement shoot through your body, knowing your brother had practice and you’d get to see everyone again. As soon as the bell rang you sprung out of your seat, rushing down to the changing rooms and changing into one of your old track suits. You brought it with you because you really didn’t feel like wearing the schools, plus this one was much cuter anyways. 

You hadn’t worn it in a while, not since..

You shake your head, pushing those old memories from your mind as you head down to the club room, hoping to find your brother, but spotting someone even better.

“Suga-kun!” You wave excitedly as he comes down the stairs.

His shocked expression quickly turns into a smile as you meet him at the bottom. 

“My my, (y/n)-chan,” he laughs while pinching your cheek, “It’s been a while hasn’t it, look at you!”

You blush at his antics, brushing his hand off with a giggle. Sugawara had been kind to you from day one, even though you were just the little sister who sat in the gym while waiting for her brother to finish practice. He, along with the rest of the team, welcomed you with open arms. 

You only met them halfway along in the school year, the first part spent at your old club activities in middle school, until that happened.

Ever since that day you had to go wait for your brother at Karasuno, instead of him picking you up from practice, so you quickly had to get used to all the crazy yet wonderful people you met;

Which is why you were finally glad to be back, being surrounded by really amazing people, no one with false intentions. 

“Suga-kun, that hurts!”

He laughs again, only to be cut off by a loud whine.

“(y/n), why don’t you ever smile at me like that. I’m your brother, not Suga-san!” Ryu pouts, walking down the steps with the captain, your eyes widening at the sight of him while you ignore your brother.

“Daichi-kun!”

Diachi laughs at Ryu’s deflated look, walking over and placing a hand on your head. 

“Long time no see, trouble-maker,” his laughter stops as he looks at you closely, a teasing smile appearing on his face, “Say, have you grown since last time?”

You place your hands on your hips, grinning cheekily.

“You noticed huh, I’ve grown a few cm, now I’m officially 155cm!”

Your happiness was cut short when Suga and Daichi raised a hand to stifle their laughter, and you pushed off the hand resting atop your head.

“Don’t laugh, you asked!”

“Ah poor little sister, you got stuck with the short genes.”

“I’m almost as tall as nee-chan-”

“You’re both short, (y/n).”

“Says the loser who can’t even reach 180cm!”

“Oi-”

“Alright you two, knock it off,” Daichi chuckled, lightly bopping you on the head while being a little more forceful to your brother, “Let’s get going. You ready for your first actual year being a club member, kiddo?”

“Oh yea, now I get to actually actively help instead of being forced to listen to oni-chan yelling with nothing to distract me.”

“Hey-”

“I bet Kiyoko will be thrilled to have you this year too.” Suga smiled, cutting off your brother who just grumbled angrily under his breath.

You all were making your way to the gym when Daichi pulled out a few papers from his club jacket. 

“I agree, hopefully the new recruits won’t stop by too late, we have an interesting person joining after all.”

“Oh? Who would that be?” Suga questioned.

“The one kid we saw at the middle school matches, Kageyama Tobio.”

“The first setter of Kitagawa is going to join the team?”

“Huh? But, that guy is totally cocky.” Ryu sneered, thinking back to the matches he saw him in.

You remember the kid briefly, going with your brother and the other two to the games. Kitagawa was a powerhouse middle school, most of those kids ended up going to other powerhouse high schools, which wasn’t Karasuno.

Yet.

“He was pretty good though, from what I could tell,” you chime in, “I’m just surprised someone like him didn’t go to some high-end school in the prefecture. He seemed like he could totally get in.”

“Look at you,” Ryu cooed, trying to bring you into a noogie, “Thinking you know all about volleyball and the skills~”

“I know some things, idiot!”

“Quit it you two.”

“Okay…” You both agreed, knowing how scary the third year captain could be when he wanted to be. 

“You better not try to intimidate the Kitagawa kid either, okay Tanaka.” Suga teased, changing the subject back to the matter at hand.

“I-I wouldn’t do something like that.” He grumbled, causing you to snicker.

“Ha, yea oni-chan-”

“You either, (y/n)-chan. You can be just as bad.”

Now it was your turn to pout and grumble while your brother laughed at you.

The gym doors were already open to your surprise, after getting the proper footwear on and heading inside, you spot two kids you haven’t seen before.

“Hello.” The taller male exclaims, and you snap your fingers together as you realize he was the kid you were just talking about.

“It’s him.”

“Oi, oi, oi,  who said you could waltz in here-”

Your brother was cut off as Daichi grabbed the back of his jacket, yanking him backwards.

“You’re Kageyama, right?”

“Osu.” Kageyama agrees, standing straight and still as the boys approach him. 

You stay behind them, only looking out from the back of your brother. You take in his features, and notice how intimidating he looked up close; he was tall-taller than Daichi even, eyes holding a sharp concentration, and as you glanced at his lips pulled in a taut line, you wondered if he could smile. A flash of orange caught your attention, glancing behind Kageyama to see another student sneaking besides the others. He starts to head over behind your friends, towards you, and doesn’t notice you until he’s standing almost directly beside you. He glances over and jumps, red spreading across his face as he yells out a greeting.

“H-hello!”

The others were too engrossed in their conversation, so you smiled politely back and gave him a small nod in greeting.

“Hello-”

“HELLO!” He shouts again louder, another shy blush spreading across his cheeks as he repeats himself once more. You laugh, catching the attention of the boys and they look at you.

“Huh, who are-OH, YOU!” Ryu shouts and points, causing Hinata to squeak and back away from you.

“M-me?”

“SHORTY NUMBER ONE!”

“You’re the other applicant, Hinata Shoyo.. I’m a little surprised.” Daichi smacks your brothers hand away, giving a welcoming smile to Hinata.

“Uh.. hm?” He bites his lip, confused.

“Oh,” you point at him suddenly, causing the blush to come back as he jumped back even further, “you’re the orange who jumped super high!” 

The captain and vice held back snickers at the name, but it just made Hinata grow tongue tied.

“I-I, uh, huh?”

“We saw your match last year.” Suga clarified.

“You’re way short, and sucked pretty bad. But you’ve got guts, yanno?” Tanaka nodded. 

“Ah, thanks!” Hinata grinned, beaming at the attention. 

“Your jumps were awesome, right (y/n)-chan?” 

“Right,” you agree with Suga, an excited gleam in your eye, “it was sooo cool to see! You looked like you were flying!”

“TH-THANKS!”

“But it looks like you haven’t grown so much since then,” Ryu measured out with his hand, “At least he’s taller than you, (y/n).”

“Oi, I’m not that short-”

“I may be little, but I can jump,” Hinata interjected, looking at the three members before looking at you, “I’ll become Karasuno’s ace!” 

You flush at the way his eyes stared determinedly stare into your own.

“Ace huh..”

“Oi, oi… The newbie says he’s going to be the ace? Making that declaration to my sister no less, what are you getting at, you’ve got some nerve, boy.”  Tanaka’s face twists into something scary, glaring down at the boy who froze up, slowly turning his head to make eye contact with your brother.

“S-s-sister? I-UH, I-I DIDN’T MEAN IT LIKE, UM, LIKE THAT!” He waves his arms in a panic.

“It’s good to be ambitious, right?” Suga swoops in to save the kid from further embarrassment.

Hinata sighed, agreeing and apologizing at the same time.

“Hey,” Kageyama’s voice pierces the conversation, “If you want to be the ace, I hope you’ve improved. If you goof around, you’ll waste another three years.”

That’s when all hell broke loose.

They began to fight, bickering back and forth about growth and how neither one has been wasting their time. Hinata lost his happy-go-lucky aura and Kageyama’s face was even scarier, each glaring at each other with just as much loathing. You were now standing between your brother and captain, hearing the latter sigh as he tried to diffuse the situation. You gulp down your nerves as they cut him off, watching how Daichi’s smile grew tight and his eyebrows furrowed. 

Oh lord, here it comes.

“Oi, Daichi-san is talking to you!”

“Yeah, you should listen to your captain, yanno!” You throw in your two cents after your brother, only to feel annoyed when they both ignored you.

“What’s the commotion, volleyball club?”

You freeze, slowly turning your head to see the vice principal walking inside the gym.

“Yikes, the vice!” You and Ryu gasp.

“Sensei.” Suga hastily corrects you both.

“S-sensei.. Right.”

You purse your lips together, looking down at the court hoping you can this time contain your laughter. 

“You’d better not be fighting.”

The duo, who were totally not fighting, had paused momentarily as the vice walked towards the crowd. 

“Of course not,” Daichi gave the man a convincing grin, motioning to the two first years, “just a little friendly rivalry, right?”

“Hey, the vice likes to make trouble for us, so keep it down.” Tanaka Hisses, and you nod along while raising your hand to your mouth to mimic your brother.

“You don’t want the club to get in trouble now right?”

Hinata’s brown eyes lock on yours and he nods meekly. You let out a smile, glad he was finally calming down, when Kageyama tsk’s and gives Hinata an ugly look. You sigh, looking over at the taller boy to see a dark look on his face, it was almost scary.

“Server! And I’ll return them all!”

You facepalm as Hinata took the bait, your brother raging at them from beside you, the tension growing thick in the gym. The vice wasn’t amused as they continued fighting, if the sharp glance he gave to Daichi was any indication anyway. 

The two idiots went to serve and receive, and you could only watch an awe as Kageyama went to do a jump serve. Sure, this wasn’t the time for such things, but not many people you knew could do a jump serve, it was cool to watch one up close. The force he used to smack the ball was plentiful, jaw dropping as Hinata barely dodges and the sound echoes when the ball makes contact on the floor.  

Hinata stands back up, yelling for another when Daichi tells them to knock it off, only to be ignored again. You knew it was coming, hopefully the vice would leave soon so you could watch Daichi blow up on them with front row tickets-

You gasp as the ball, the second attempt that Hinata didn’t dodge, smacked against his arms, flew up into his face, before ricocheting off and hitting the vice square in the face. It was as if time slowed down, the ball hitting the vice’s cheek, his head snapping with enough force to pop his wig into the air. You watched, eyes glued to the head piece that went up and up till it came down, landing straight on-

Your lips part to laugh, thankfully Sugawara noticed and slapped his hand over your mouth to stifle the bellows you wished to release. Everyone stood frozen in shock as the hair piece landed atop the one and only, Daichi. 

“He was wearing a wig?” Kageyama muttered, eyes blown open wide.

“You just noticed?” Hinata snickers, amused at the sight.

“You guys,” Ryu was trying to hush his own giggles, “shut up!”

“Tanaka, you shut up too!” Suga scolds, hand still on your mouth as you shake from silenced laughter.

“Sawamura-kun, I’d like a word with you.”

Once they left the gym, Suga let you go only to have you clutch your sides in laughter. Your brother was no better, practically passed out on the floor as tears escaped his eyes. The scene replayed itself over and over in your mind, the lack of oxygen making you woozy. However, as soon as you heard a chuckle coming from Hinata, you Tanaka siblings stopped laughing. 

“That was sure stupid of you,” Ryu cracks his knuckles, giving his scary face, “you’re going to regret not listening to Daichi-san.”

Hinata looks to you for help, surprising you, but you just shrug.

“Oni-chan is right, you’ve done it now. Good luck you two.”

“Wait, why am I going to be punished for something he did!?” Kageyama glares at you, and you shudder slightly.

There was no reason to be upset at you, but the way he was looking at you caused you to look away nervously. 

“You both were the issue.” Ryu huffs, arms crossing to give his own glare at the taller first year.

“This is all your fault!”

“Huh, me!?”

The boys began to argue, leaving Ryu to shake his head and Suga to rub his temple with an exasperated smile. 

What a fun first day back, you can’t wait to see what else was to come.

I absolutely loved the one where Newt came to look after Hermann when he though he had consumption and I was wondering if there was any chance you could do a short sequel? Something to do with Newt being dissaproved of by Lars? :)

i can’t really tell you why but the FINALLY cool weather we’re getting has put me in the mood for this au again....pls enjoy some hermann “yearning” gottlieb

part one of the fic

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Hermann rarely allows himself fits of indulgence as extreme as oversleeping, but on the occasions he does, it is always on days such as today: cold, wet, gloomy. Days designed to be spent inside with the curtains drawn tight and a hot water bottle tucked in the bedclothes. Hermann in particular has plenty reason to do so; the constant dull twinge of pain in his left leg builds to a roaring throb when it rains, and the bought of pneumonia he’s only just managed to shake has left him wary of stepping beyond his front stoop in anything less than sunshine. It’s not as if he has any pressing work waiting for him at the laboratory. Newton, he’s sure, can manage a single day without him.

At half past eleven, Hermann is roused by the distant thud of the heavy wooden door knocker downstairs. Thirty-five minutes past eleven, there is a lighter knock at his bedchamber door. “Dr. Gottlieb?” their footman calls. “You have a caller.”

Damn. Hermann groans into his pillow. “Thank you,” he calls back. “I won’t be a moment.” 

It takes Hermann a bit more than a moment--his bed is very warm. At risk of making whoever is calling wait longer, he merely ends up belting his dressing gown over his nightshirt and trading his long socks for his house slippers to go down. He regrets it the moment he pushes the parlor door open.

It is Newton; of course it is Newton. “Hermann!” he exclaims, and rises from his stool at once as Hermann stumbles back against the doorframe in embarrassed surprise. He’s in his dressing gown, by Jove. “You’re alright. Why didn’t you come to the lab? I was so worried.”

“I was feeling a bit under the weather,” Hermann says weakly. He draws his robe tighter round himself as Newton struts forward, practically overdressed in comparison, even with his sleeves pushed up (garish tattoos revealed), his glasses smudged, his perpetually untidy hair even untidier than usual. “Goodness, Newton, if I’d known it was you--I’m not decent.”

“And yet you were completely willing to entertain anyone else in your nightclothes,” Newton says, grinning. He clasps Hermann’s hand. “Am I really that different, my friend?”

Hermann colors; desperate to avoid the question, he clears his throat and poses one of his own. “Why are you here?”

“I told you,” Newton says. “You didn’t show up at the lab. I was worried, so I decided I’d check up on you. I thought--” His voice falters a moment. “I thought your illness may have returned.”

Hermann has not been alone with Newton since his illness. (In their laboratory, they are under the constant watchful eyes of their fellow researchers, their hired hands, and on the occasions they dine out together for supper or take a walk, at least a dozen other like-minded individuals. Here, it is almost always under Hermann’s father’s eye, who finds a way to situate himself into the corner of whatever room they’ve occupied without fail. Their stolen moments of privacy are rare and brief--nothing at all conducive for the long talks Hermann yearns for.) The details of that last occasion do not escape Hermann now: Newton’s tears, the way he’d flung himself at Hermann’s side, sponged Hermann’s brow and forced food and water down his throat, held Hermann throughout each night, each bought of wracking shivers, and not left his side until it’d all passed.

The tenderness with which he did it all, palpable to Hermann even through the haze of fever. “It has not,” Hermann assures him; Newton visibly relaxes, “but I am terribly glad you’ve come. Will you take tea with me?”

“I should be getting back to the lab,” Newton admits. “They don’t even know I’ve left.”

“Tea,” Hermann says again. “We can talk.” Then, pointedly, “Father is out.”

“Oh,” Newton says. “Oh.”

Hermann shows him to his private study further down the hall and--never quite at ease with his father’s over-reliance on the household staff, and quite at ease with balancing objects on one hand--fetches them the tea tray himself. Newton has already made himself comfortable on Hermann’s small chaise when he returns, waistcoat and boots flung across the room, and he’s evidently drawn the curtains and stoked the fire back to life. It crackles merrily in the corner fireplace and bathes Newton in a warm orange glow. “Cake, too?” he says when Hermann sets the tray down in front of him. “You’re a godsend.”

Hermann unbelts his gown and graces him with a small smile. “Uneaten from a luncheon my sister hosted,” he says. “I know you’re fond of them.”

Newton shoves two in his mouth; he washes them down with a swiftly-poured, and clearly scalding, cup of tea, wincing all the while. “I am,” he says. “Take a seat, will you. Do you want sugar today?”

There is a smudge of pink frosting at the corner of Newton’s mouth. Crumbs on his shirt. “Not today,” Hermann says. He settles his cane against the side of the chaise, and then settles himself in next to Newton. Newton slides him his tea. “Thank you.”

Newton makes himself even more comfortable once he finishes off the last of his cup, lowering his head to the chaise cushion to rest inches from Hermann’s knee, hands settled in his lap, legs stretched out to dangle over the opposite end. Not touching--never touching. He has a lazy smile fixed on his face as he gazes up at Hermann. Throat bared. (The picture of hedonism, Hermann cannot help but think. He is gorgeous.) “What did you want to talk about?” Newton says, after some minutes of pleasant silence pass.

“Hm?” Hermann says. He’d like to push the soft brown hair (slightly damp from the rain) from Newton’s face. Pull off his thick glasses. Run his fingers over the rough stubble of his cheeks, drag them down to his mouth--his pink mouth-- “Oh,” he says. “I wanted to thank you. I realized I never properly did so.”

“You’ve thanked me plenty,” Newton says dismissively. “We’re friends. Friends do these sorts of things for each other.”

“You put yourself at great risk for me,” Hermann says. Unable to help himself, strokes back a few strands of that soft hair: Newton does not push him away, but leans into the touch.

“That feels good,” he says. “You’d’ve done the same.”

“I would’ve,” Hermann agrees, too earnest, not caring that he is playing the cards that should be kept to his chest much too fast, much too soon. “In a heartbeat, Newton. I...” He swallows around a sudden lump in his throat, around the unintentional confession that threatens to spill out. He’s certain Newton knows it anyway. (Hermann is not subtle in his stolen touches and glances.)

Newton’s smile flickers, but does not fade. Something curious passes behind his eyes--understanding, perhaps. “Hermann,” he says. His pink tongue swipes across his pink lips. “You,” he tries again. Words seem to fail him; he reaches for the hand Hermann’s pressed to his hair and begins to drag it, slowly, assuredly, to that pink mouth. Hermann does not move.

There is a small flurry of noise far down the hallway: the front door opening. “Hermann?”

“Damn,” Hermann hisses. It’s his father. Newton drops his hand and leaps to his feet.

“My boots,” he says, “where are my damn--fuck--”

He stumbles to the corner and shoves his stocking’d feet back into his dirty boots, pulls his waistcoast back on, rights his shirt, hastily buttons up both. His face is flushed a deep red and creased with guilt. Hermann imagines his own is in a similar state. (They have nothing to be guilty for, he reminds himself. Nothing happened. Nothing at all.) “In here,” he calls, dazedly.

Newton arranges himself at the fireplace mantle and adopts a look of cool boredom just in time for Hermann’s father to swing the study door open. He is stone-faced and stern as usual, even more so as he glances between them--lingering particularly over Hermann, his dressing gown, his dishevelment, the visible blush from Newton’s touch. “I was informed you were absent from your laboratory today,” he says. “You and Dr. Geiszler.”

Rain flecks the shoulders of his overcoat, which he’s not even bothered to take off: he’s clearly stormed home from his own office as fast as he could. “I woke up feeling rather, ah, under the weather,” Hermann stammers, “so I stayed in. Dr. Geiszler merely wanted to ensure it was nothing serious. He was worried, you see, considering my recent illness.”

“I’m certain,” Father says. He does not nod when he greets Newton, if Hermann can even call it a greeting: narrowed eyes, and an unimpressed “Dr. Geiszler.”

“Dr. Gottlieb,” Newton says, and, to Hermann’s equal part amusement and horror, gives an obnoxious bow. “Sir.”

Father’s lips curl down. “Get dressed,” he snaps at Hermann. Then, turning back to Newton, “As you can see, Dr. Geiszler, my son is far from death’s door, so your concern is misplaced. You’re welcome to leave. You must have plenty of work of your own to see to.”

“No!” Hermann says (hardly believing his own daring--contradicting his father is something he does not do--and ignoring Newton’s tiny smile of pride across the room.) He pushes himself to his feet unsteadily. “No, I would prefer Ne--Dr. Geiszler stay.”

“It’s fine, Hermann,” Newton says, emphasizing ‘Hermann’ too-loudly. Newton has never cared to use Hermann’s title in lieu of his first name, and he’s certainly not going to pretend to now. “I’ll go. Rest up. We have our dinner engagement tomorrow, after all, and if you skip out on me I’ll be furious.”

They have no dinner engagement. Or--had no engagement. Hermann is more than happy to treat this as the invitation Newton obviously intends. “Of course,” Hermann says. “Tomorrow.”

He extends a trembling hand in Newton’s direction; Newton steps forward and takes it in a mere companionable handshake, yet Hermann cannot help but feel the ghost of the far more intimate one they left unfinished. Behind them, Hermann’s father sweeps from the study to undoubtedly wait pointedly in the foyer for Newton. Then Newton ducks closer. “Come to my rooms tomorrow,” he breathes, so quiet Hermann can scarcely hear. “We’ll say we decided to take a long dinner.”

“A long...?”

Newton lifts Hermann’s hand up--a mirror of earlier--and brushes his lips over the knuckles so gently, so reverently, that the air leaves Hermann’s lungs. It falls limply to his side when Newton releases it. He feels dizzy. “Tomorrow, Hermann,” Newton says.

“Tomorrow,” Hermann echoes faintly.

He sits by the parlor windows and watches Newton scurry off down the street until he’s a mere speck in the rain, and, unable to quell his smile, the small bloom of joy in his chest, touches his knuckles to his own mouth.

Changing titles ~ Pt.3

A/N: Ugl, ne morm več na splošno. Moji možgani so bleh and I just wanna sleep. 

Xx

It didn't take long for the news to get out. (Y/n) Potter having a new boyfriend, someone actually worthy of her time. Because you were someone every boy wanted. You never believed it but everybody fell for your charm.

You didn't mind the other gossips that flew around. The one where you were under Imperius curse, another where you joined the Death Eaters and bare the Dark Mark...

" You're joking, right?" Chilli stared at you in disbelief. "Antonin Dolohov."

" You're acting like it's a bad thing." you smiled and continued to eat your toast you have been now eating for almost 20 minutes.

"It is a bad thing. Don't you hear rumors that fly around about this guy? "

"Exactly. Rumors." you looked at her, putting down your toast and putting your hair in a ponytail. "Anyways I'm stuffed so I better be going to Potions." you smiled and got up. "Another class of how great Regulus Black is." you rolled your eyes and started walking towards the dungeons.

But something was odd to Chilli. How could you be stuffed after not even finishing one toast? And through how many mood swings you go through in a day. She looked down the table, catching an eye on James and considering this one possibility....but no. She can't. You'll hate her.

Before you reached the doorknob you felt strong arms wrap around your stomach and pull you away.

He twirled you around and placed you against the stone wall, kissing you. " Imperius curse, huh?" he grinned and you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"Apparently." you smiled. " You monster." you joked around and he chuckled.

"How come you still insist on this?" he asked, placing his hands on your hips and slowly swaying you with him.

" On what?"

"This." he leaned into a kiss, this time more aggressively and roughly as he did before.

"Hmm." you hummed as he pulled away. "Maybe because I don't give a single damn about them."

"HEY!" a voice shouted from the hall and both of you turned around to face an angry looking boy storming towards you.

Dolohov in front of you sighed and looked up at you. "This is sure gonna be fun, won't it love ?" he smiled before removing himself from you and stand his ground.

The boy stopped right in front of him, gripping his wand tightly and angrily. His hazel eyes were focused on one guy and one guy only. Antonin Dolohov and as his fingers kept clenching around his wand, his forehead seem to show long veins pop out.

Behind him, there was another boy. Hair just as black as your boyfriends but a bit more curly and his eyes bright, blue and definitely special.

He wasn't fixed on Dolohov. He was fixed on you and he was looking at you with something that resembled more of a disappointment than anger or sadness.

"Get your filthy hands off my sister." James growled as he continued to glare at Dolohov.

Your boyfriend, however, kept his cool. He didn't show any sign of irritation or fury. He was standing there with his hands together and his mouth curved in a smirk.

"James, what the hell are you doing?" you rolled your eyes, feeling annoyed by him already.

"What the hell are YOU doing!?" he shouted. "Snogging that piece of trash!"

"Ouch." Dolohov chuckled catching James attention again. "What are you going to do James? Jinx me, hex me, curse me..." he grinned, walking closer to him with an evil twinkle in his eye. "We both know you don't have what it takes to curse me, do you? Only weak wizards jinx and hex. Like they are afraid to show their power." his expression suddenly fell into something much more darker.

You felt something inside of you clench. The thought of Dolohov trying to hurt your older brother or Sirius...it didn't feel right but somehow with everything happening, you found yourself frozen on the spot.

" You can't duel me, Potter. You'll lose and oh what would happen when that Head Boy title is ripped away from you?" he goaded, making James' temper rise. " But you wouldn't do that, would you? No, no. You'd rather get your sister ripped from you instead...because there' nothing greater for a Gryffindor than having his pride." and with that Dolohov turned around and walked towards you. His hand placed itself on your chin and gently brushed against it. " See you later, darls." he winked before walking off.

And you stood there, not staring but glowering at your brother. He was there, standing with his hand around his wand, furious and looking where Dolohov disappeared.

Because Dolohov was right. James would rather see his sister be ripped from him than his Head Boy title.

"Really, (y/n)?" the boy behind him loomed at you. "To stoop so low."

" I wouldn't be the one talking, Black. " you replied harshly, making your way back to the Potions classroom. " I can't be lower than the people abandoning their families." you continued to keep your eye contact with him. His eyes flashed away for a moment, making you the opportunity to glance at your brother then walk into the classroom

---

“ You afraid little girl?” a sneer came from one of the Slytherins. His eyes glowing with fire while his mouth curved in a malicious smirk.

You turned your eyes to him and chuckled. “ I’m shaking.” you spoke sarcastically, leaning on to your boyfriend.

“ Couldn’t think of anything better to say than that?” Dolohov spoke as he kept watching at the lake.

Mulciber chuckled, pulling up his sleeve and showing you the Dark Mark. Your heart leaped for a moment but since you were a bit high on the new stuff, you managed to keep your cool. “ Doesn’t this scare you?”

And for some odd reason, you saw the mark and you felt like giggling. “ Really cool design. Who made it?” you took a hold of his forearm and the four boys and a girl laughed.

“ The Dark Lord, who.” Mulciber rolled his eyes and moved away.

“ You really don’t get scared, do you Potter?” Lestrange joined the conversation with Bellatrix under his arms.

“ Of?”

“ Anything.”

“ Life is too short to be spent in fear.” you hummed and let the sunlight shine on your face.

Bellatrix quickly got up from Lestrange’s hold and crawled up to you. “ So..:” she smiled wickedly, her teeth in perfect white color as her curly hair contrast to that. “ Would you get the Dark Mark? Follow the Dark Lord?”

You opened your eyes lazily, seeing four dark eyes instead of two. “ Uhmm...no.” you managed to get out and close your eyes again.

Dolohov chuckled and let his hand find your forearm. “ Shame. I’d look sexy on you.” he whispered in your ear, loud enough for everybody to hear while he caressed your forearm with his thumb. “ Very shame indeed.”

“ Yeah well...” you moved your arm away from his hand and turned around so that you were facing him. “ I might be a bit high right now, but I’m not high enough to go to “the dark side” “ you made air quotes and kissed him on the lips, quickly getting on your feet. “ Anyways...I have to get be now going to get on my essay McGonagall.” you seemed to spit out words that made no sense. “ Gotta find my dorm.” you smiled and walked away with a military greet.

You were a bit confused. The new drugs he gave you made you dizzier than the old ones. It kept messing with your mind after the good feeling. You stopped at the spiral stairs and looked up. “ Bollocks.” you muttered under your breath as they kept spinning. “ Oh well. “ you shrugged and started climbing.

Somehow, you didn’t know how you managed to get to the portrait hole and what was worse, you couldn’t remember the password.

“ Password?” the Fat Lady asked proudly.

“ Uhm...” you let out and heard yourself giggle. “ Well, shite. I forgot.” you giggled again, your heart beating a bit faster as sudden joy entered your body. “ Can’t you just let me it. You know I’m a Gryffindor.”

She glared. “ Password.”

“ I don’t know. Grapes.” you spluttered out and found yourself giggling at it.

“ Are you making fun of me, girl?” she started to sound offended.

But before you could reply to her, the door swung open and the famous Head Boy jumped out.

“ Oh, JAMES!” you exclaimed, making your way to the portrait hole. “ Thank you, James.” you swung on your legs drunkenly and smiled at him like a complete idiot. “ James, James.” you continued to look at him as his eyes furrowed in your odd behavior. “ Well, goodbye, James.” you waved and climbed through the portrait hole. and found yourself in the common room.

But before you could turn to the girls' dormitories, James grabbed you by the arm and turned you around. “ What’s up with you?” his voice echoed in your ears and you just kept smiling at him.

“ Boop.” you tried to boop his nose but missed it by an inch, getting his cheek instead. You grabbed his cheek, widening your eyes as you saw it stretch wider and wider. “ WOW! “ you marveled as the colors started to mix around. “ I nEver knEw yOUr skin was so stretchy.”

He slapped your hand away and placed both of his hands on the side of your head, looking into your eyes. “ Are you high right now?!”

You giggled, putting your index finger up and focusing on his nose. “ Boo-” your finger made its way to his nose. “ -oop.”

He just stared. He couldn’t believe his younger sister was doing drugs. To be honest, he was in complete shock, speechless and had completely nothing to say to this.

“ Hey, Prooo-” Sirius beamed but dragged James’ nickname on his tongue as he saw him holding your head. “ -oongs?” he stopped in the middle of the stairs and stared. “ Whatchu two doing?”

“ I reckon I wanted to go up to my dorm.” you turned your head and moved from James hold and walking to Sirius. You stopped at the bottom of the stairs and gazed up at them again, seeing as they spun in the room. “ UUUGGHH.” you groaned and prepared to climb the stairs again.

You made your way up and bumping into Sirius. “ Oh, sorry.” you looked up and smiled. “ Oh, hey Sirius.” and you continued to climb.

He grabbed you by the wrist as well and turned you around. “ Are you high?” he looked into your eyes.

“ No.” you lied and felt the giggling feeling bubble up. “ Just...tired.”

“ Tired, huh? What color are my eyes then?”

“ Hah. Blue.” you smiled and tried to walk up the stairs again.

“ And my hair?” he asked, pulling you down again.

“ Black, like your surname. You have a birthday somewhere in October, you have a brother who is in my Potions class and you’re Animagnus is a big black dog, just like your personality.” you gave him a fake smile before trying to go up again.

“ Alright, How many brothers do you see down there?” he pointed his finger at James who only looked at you with this weird look on his face. A look you haven’t ever seen on James before. Almost as he cared.

You squinted your eyes at him, looking at James and feeling the effect of the drugs suddenly wash off. You turned to look at Sirius, your smile now turned into a frown as your eyes focused on his. “ None. I don’t have a brother.” you spoke coldly before ripping your hand away from his grip and stomping up the stairs again. “ Don’t ever touch me again. Both of you.” you shouted before finally turning to the girl's dormitories and slamming the door shut.

A Not Actually Definitive Ranking of Fire Emblem Games

So after a lot of deliberation I’ve decided not to revisit last year’s Zelda ranking project on a full scale for FE, but that doesn’t mean it’s not something I really wanted to do. 2018 is the year we’re going to get alternatively hyped for and disappointed by FE16, after all. With that in mind have an abbreviated list that will end up being one very long post. I’ve got games to gush over and an anon or two (and very likely actual followers…eep) to piss off, so here we go.

The “personal favorites of the series, love revisiting them” Tier - FE10, FE2/15, FE4

I’m never going to argue that Radiant Dawn is a perfect game or even just a perfect FE game, but damned if it doesn’t manage to do so much right all at once. An extremely ambitious story that builds off its mostly conventional predecessor in a variety of interesting ways, deconstructing a bunch of series narrative standards (life in a defeated country kind of sucks and there are people that don’t warm that quickly to young and inexperienced rulers, go figure) and taking an eleventh hour hard right at Nietzchean atheism as read by a Pride parade. Kind of falls on its ass by the end, but every experimental FE story does the same thing so I can’t fault this one. I love the army switching as motivation to try different units almost as much as I love the oh-so-exploitable growth and BEXP mechanics. Its Easy mode also hits a sweet spot for me of being challenging enough to not be a complete snore while also allowing the freedom for all manner of weird self-imposed challenges that don’t even require grinding. By all accounts Hard mode is one lazy design choice after another, but I don’t play at that level so no complaints here.

Never played Gaiden, but to its credit around half of the unique gameplay mechanics I like in Shadows of Valentia were also in the original: the modest army size, the novel approaches to inventory management and magic, the pretty basic class system with just a hint of nuance. The remake threw in some hit-or-miss questing, dungeon exploration, and achievements, but all the rest was either a solid addition or a continuation of NES-era annoyances that I could live with. And the story…SoV makes me dislike the DS games even more just because this game does so much with so little. Even leaving aside the mostly great voice acting there’s a bunch of new content that characterizes almost everybody and makes half of them (the men, anyway, because this is a remake of a Kaga-era game and therefore misogynistic as can be) gay because why the hell not, and then some development that constitutes the only solid attempt at worldbuilding Archanea-Valentia-Ylisse has ever really gotten and also retcons some stuff from Awakening into making sense. It’s even got some solid DLC with lots of character stuff for the Deliverance, the least sucky grinding of the 3DS games, and probably the only context in which I’ll ever be able to comment on anything from Cipher.

No remake needed for Genealogy of the Holy War to make it competitive with the rest of the top tier - just an excellent translation patch and the standard features of an emulator. I’ve never watched Game of Thrones and probably don’t plan on it, but I gather that this game provides the same essential experience with less blood and female nudity and marginally more egalitarianism for all. I can forgive it for being the original Het Baby Fest since you’d be hard-pressed to find a single entirely healthy and well-adjusted individual anywhere on Jugdral and I relate to that just as much. Screwed up family dynamics for everyone! It’s also arguably got a more fun breeding meta than either of the 3DS games, lacking Awakening’s optimization around a single postgame map with very specific parameters or Fates’s high level of balance that ironically stymies analysis. This is another game for interesting inventory management and unit leveling that isn’t too obnoxious, which mostly makes up for the maps taking an eon to play through even with an emulator speeding through those enemy phases. This would be a strange game to remake, but if it got a localized one of the same caliber as SoV I fully acknowledge that this could climb to the #2 spot. SoV would probably have the queer edge though unless they do some strange things to the plot or just make Gen 2 really gay…but then again Gen 2 is the part that’s more in need of fleshing out as it is. (Also, this game has So. Much. Incest. That’s not even really a kink of mine especially as it’s all straight incest, but I just find that hilarious in light of how Tumblr’s purity culture speaks of such things.)

The “good games, but don’t come back to them as much” Tier - FE7, FE9, FE8

Blazing Sword is not here for nostalgia purposes, especially since when I first played the game at 14 years old most of what I like about it didn’t really register. It was just that game with RPG elements that I liked and permadeath that I didn’t, and it took a few games after that for me to become an established fan of the franchise. Massive props for putting such an unconventional spin on a prequel to a textbook FE; this is a game in a series about war in which no war is fought, how crazy is that? We actually get to see the backstory of FE6′s tragic antagonist, even as it’s completely tangential to the plot of this game and so just feels like random Jugdral-esque family drama without context, and on top of that we get the first hints of interdimensional travel and kinky human/shapeshifter sex several years before either of those became controversial talking points about how they were ruining the series. I am so there. Lyn doesn’t matter to the saga, but her character arc is distinct and self-contained and also she picked up a disproportionately large fanbase while being bisexual and biracial so go her. Eliwood is sympathetic and homosocially-inclined even if his growths frequently make me want to cry (at least he gets a horse unlike his similarly-challenged son), and I can live with Hector even if I could have done without his lordly legacy. Throw in some average-for-the-time gameplay with just enough variety across the two routes and even more good character work *waves at Sonia and Renault and Priscilla -> Raven/Lucius and Serra and…* and it’s all in all a solid experience. The ranking system can go die in a fire though, which funnily enough it did after this game. Yay!

Like most early 3D games - except on Gamecube so it’s even more embarrassing - Path of Radiance has aged terribly by every aesthetic measure aside from the soundtrack. It’s also painfully slow, and my computer can’t run Dolphin apparently so an emulator’s not going to fix that for me. Those obvious flaws aside, it’s still an entertaining game, and more importantly it’s the prologue that had the crucial task of setting up all the pins RD knocked over in stellar fashion, whether we’re talking about the basic storyline that actually isn’t or the many het relationship fake-outs (more so in localization…I guess we’ll never know if NoA was actively planning that when they pushed Ike/Elincia like they did). PoR is also a love letter to Jugdral in both gameplay and themes, albeit an occasionally critical one. The jury’s still out on whether Jugdral or Tellius succeeds the most (fails the least?) of the FE settings at developing a complete world with a nuanced and resonant saga narrative, but that Tellius manages to be competitive while being kind of clumsy overall with racism and shifting the series’s overarching motif of dragon-blooded superhumans to one of kinky interracial sex is pretty impressive. The less I say about Ike the better since it’s only his endings in RD that save him for me; suffice it to point out that his worldview and general personality were clearly designed to appeal to a demographic that does not include me.

And finally comes The Sacred Stones, truly my average benchmark FE as I like it but struggle to have any particularly strong feelings on it one way or the other. The story is standard but has a few intriguing quirks, like the light vs. dark magic meta, surprise necrophilia, and how the main antagonist’s sexuality sort of depends on which route you take (except he’s still never getting laid so does it really matter?). It also seems to have been the first game to have made a legitimate effort toward the kind of replayability that’s normal for RPGs, what with the branched promotions, the route split, and the actual postgame. That’s all much more engaging than just filling up a support log. The gameplay is also more polished and (I think?) more balanced than the other GBA games, if one is willing to overlook the minor issue of Seth. Let’s see…something something twincest that’s now an IS running gag, something something guys talking intimately about their lances, something something SoV did the whole dungeon crawling with monsters bit better but I can forgive SS for not taking it that far. Moving on….

The “they have Problems” Tier - FE14, FE13

Probably qualifies as a fandom heresy, but yes I’m putting Fates first of these two. Fates is in every conceivable way for me the “You Tried” game, because I had such high hopes for it from the moment we got the earliest promotional content. I was expecting a World of Warcraft-style conflict between two morally grey factions with myriad convoluted grievances against each other messily resolving themselves one way or the other according to player choice (though note that this is already somewhat damning with faint praise as no one’s going to call WoW a storytelling masterpiece), with Conquest in particular a true villain campaign that I imagined might play out as European Imperialism: The Game. What we actually got was…not that, not at all, but amid all the complaints about plot holes and idiot balls and moral myopia most fans seem to have forgotten just how much there is to this game. It’s three full stories that together average out to be just about passable, with possibly the biggest gameplay variety in the series that fixed most of Awakening’s more broken elements (pair-up, children being unquestionably superior to the first generation) while also adding in new features that undoubtedly appealed to someone or other like Phoenix mode and the castle-building aspect. I can even mostly forgive the obvious growing pains Fates exhibits in terms of queer content, as they were pretty much inevitable once the developers realized that (almost) everyone was picking up on the subtext and that that approach just wasn’t going to cut it anymore. Again, they tried, and if the results included face-touching fanservice and plot contrivances left and right and two-way cultural posturing that inevitably crosses over into real world racism at some point I can still step back for a moment and acknowledge that Fates began as a distinctive, high-concept setting on par with Tellius and Jugdral that was willing to do something different with the narrative norm (for two of its routes at least, and even so I’m not begrudging Birthright its conventionality because that grounding is important overall). And who knows? Maybe a later game will come along and retroactively make this setting coherent.

Fates might have more sexual fanservice, but if there’s any FE that I feel ends up a slave to fanservice in a broader sense it would be Awakening. Yeah, I get that when it was in development everyone thought this would be the final game, so it makes sense that the finished product turned out to be a nostalgia-laden greatest hits piece. It’s still hard to forgive Awakening for feeling so insubstantial, doubly so since it ended up revitalizing the franchise and now it and Fates are everywhere. It’s got a plot that only makes some sense in light of SoV and possibly on a meta level (following my theory that the plot structure is meant to mirror FE1-3 in sequence), the first iteration of an Avatar dating game heavily coloring the characterization and support system, and a queasily feel-good atmosphere that allows almost no character to actually remain dead and centers everything around the self-insert and the power of friendship. So much for the series’s traditionally dim view of human nature and recurring theme of the inevitability of conflict. What’s more, in spite of its theoretically broad scope (including a criminally under-explored time travel plot with a bad future) and numerous call-backs to older games Awakening does surprisingly little for developing the series’s most frequently-visited setting. I think it was in large part how generic this game has always felt to me even before release that I never got very hyped for it and as a consequence was never very disappointed by it. It’s just….there, with its nostalgia and its chronic “no homo” and its host of hilariously broken mechanics. I wonder if we’d have ended up viewing Awakening more favorably if it really had been the last game? Eh, probably not.

The “needs a remake or needs a better remake” Tier - FE5, FE6, FE3/12, FE1/11

I don’t have a specific order for these, except that FE1/11 is almost certainly the bottom since 5 and 6 have remake potential and, lack of localization aside, New Mystery was a better remake than Shadow Dragon.

I still haven’t fully played Thracia 776, but I’ve watched and read through Let’s Plays and have read more than enough analysis and meta on the game to where I can definitively say that I wouldn’t enjoy playing it too much and don’t feel all that emotionally connected to the story except insofar as it relates to the overall Jugdral saga. The concept of a standard FE plot that ends with the playable cast losing is an intriguing one, though they really could have done better than the weird non-ending that is this game’s final boss. I’m also not as invested in Leif the fallen aristocrat as I usually am those types of characters, possibly because it’s a foregone conclusion that he eventually gets his kingship anyway. I would like a remake, hopefully one that smooths over some of the original’s mechanical roughness and also makes a bunch of characters gay because the material’s certainly there in places, but I also admit that I’d rather have a remake of Genealogy first. Or, for that matter….

Binding Blade doesn’t have the potential for an amazing story-driven remake that Thracia does; after all, it’s basically a soft reboot of FE1 with an equally bland lord saved by his Super Smash Bros. fanbase and possibly his weirdly large harem. That said, there’s a fair amount of character potential and worldbuilding opportunities what with the series’s first true support system and the content of its unorthodox prequel. Even by itself I feel like BB does more to sell Elibe as its own distinctive world than any of Marth’s games ever did for Archanea, and that’s even with the reality that like the Archanea games this playable cast is inflated with some really forgettable characters (that seem to have followed a semi-rigid numerical quota by class in this instance. It’s weird.). This game never really stuck in my mind as a good playable experience either, not helped by the fact that it feels simple and antiquated compared not only to the GBA games that followed it but to the Jugdral games that preceded it. Good on them for throwing out some of Thracia’s more unwieldy mechanics, but did they have to throw out skills, hybrid classes, and varied chapter objectives too? The space limitations of the GBA couldn’t have been that severe.

While I’ve been spending much of this post ragging on Archanea, I will say that (New) Mystery of the Emblem has some interesting character beats, like the resolution of the Camus/Nyna/Hardin tragedy, Rickard and the situationally bisexual(?) Julian, and some of the antics of Marth’s retainers. I did like bits of the remake’s new assassin plot even if most of it is cribbed from the Black Fang; Eremiya’s no Sonia, but Clarisse and Katarina have their moments. Also, Kris isn’t that offensive to me since I was never all that engaged in Marth’s inconsistent personality and from what I’ve seen his/her supports don’t all devolve into a dating sim. New Mystery has a broader array of characters than either the original or the previous remake, without requiring the player to kill off characters just to get some of the new ones. That said, the reclassing in the DS games is still broken and allows the player to strip even more character out of their personality-deprived units. I’m getting to the point where I’m having trouble separating the two actually, so I’ll just go ahead and remark that I think everyone can agree that Shadow Dragon is the worst of the three remakes so far, with no supports, the aforementioned killing of units, a prologue that adds to the story but only exists on Normal mode and also requires you to kill someone off (seriously, what is it with this game? Is it commentary on the necessary sacrifices of war that they tried forcing on the player for one game until they realized it was a terrible idea?), the needless removal of features from earlier games like rescuing even as others like weapon ranks and forging were left in, that first clumsy iteration of reclassing, and little to nothing that I can see as elevating the story above the standard fantasy adventure fare of Dark Dragon and the Sword of Light that might have been good in 1990 but didn’t look so hot in 2008. Archanea just feels so lifeless overall compared to every other setting in the franchise, to the point where I don’t even feel that guilty about putting the first game in the series way down at the bottom when over in the Zelda ranking I raised the NES games above ones I found more fun to play solely because of their historical significance. Isn’t FE1 arguably the first tactical RPG? I feel like I should appreciate it more, but I just can’t. *shrugs*

Entrancing

It's been a year since he's been rescued​; he's been avoiding the topic as much as he can (making Goldstein, Abernathy and Fontaine read and fill the paperwork required to close the case) he doesn't even want to check the reports​... even though he knows he should. His unprofessionalism ends today; he should confront pieces of that past he wants to erase from history and the first step is to request auror Goldstein to bring her best friend (whom she doesn't stop talking about) Newt Scamander. He's heard he's coming to give Goldstein his book. Percival knows he owes that man his life so at least he has to thank said man in person. He recalls the few conversations he has had with Theseus Scamander about his brother and dismisses them instantly because starting to form an opinion of a person from the perspective of his overprotective, obviously biased older brother is not a good place to begin with. 'Newt? He's a wild, little creature with no respect for the law,' Theseus had said with the most fondly look on his face. 'Be he only means well. He's also reckless and gives me a heart attack every single time I see him, but he's passionate and kind as well.' Definitely biased. He sighs and decides to check on the documents about Mr. Scamander. (Why is there no pictures of him?) He reads anyway and, after all he has heard from the Goldstein sisters and from his aurors as well, he's shocked that the man has been arrested only twice? How? The sole content of that infamous case -if the rumors are true- must be enough to make a wizard earn at least few years of imprisonment. It's not that he plans on arresting Mr. Scamander -the man saved New York and him- but he doesn't plan to go easy on him either; if Scamander wants to stay in the city he should arrange the permits necessary for ALL of his creatures. He smirks to himself, with that new goal in mind when auror Goldstein walks in her office; there's a spark on her eyes when she looks at something beside him. "Can we come in, Sir?" She asks, carefully, almost afraid of interrupting. Percival nods. "This is Newt Scamander," she introduces him with pride in her voice. "Newt, this is my boss, Director Percival Graves." It's very unfortunate he has decided to stand to greet the newcomer because just when those green eyes meet his Percival feels weak on the knees. He thinks he might be sick, only for a second, because Scamander looks away which helps the auror to recover... a little bit. The magizoologist avoids his gaze (which makes him feel oddly irritated for no apparent reason) and Percival feels with the liberty to stare. And he does. He notices the freckles all over that lovely face and the reddish curls falling over his forehead and those soft, inviting lips of his... Then he stumbles, like a clumsy child, and drops the cup of coffee he just grabbed; the thing falls to the ground and breaks into pieces before he can do anything. Goldstein looks at him, shocked. And Percival blinks because he has completely forgotten she was still in the same room with them. That means she just saw him ogling at her friend... What? No! Of course not, he's not... he wasn't ogling, his eyes only roamed over Scamander's body once... or maybe twice. But that's normal because he's an auror and he was just inspecting Ne- Scamander because he's used to it. He feels his cheeks hot, but ignores it as well as the look Goldstein is directing at him and waves his hand to fix the cup. Percival offers his hand in order to end the awkward silence that followed and he regrets it almost instantly. "It's a pleasure," Scamander mumbles and his voice is so clear and kind it makes Percival relax. He shakes that freckled hand and although it's not soft, it's definitely warm. And the Director likes the feeling, perhaps a little too much. "The pleasure is mine," there's something in his own voice, something low and primal that reminds him of a cat and to his utter horror he realizes that he, Percival Graves Director of Magical Security, has just purred like a fucking horny teenager. Scamander blushes, which only makes things worse because suddenly Percival takes another step forward, hitting himself with the corner of his own desk in the process. What's going on with him? The wizard starts talking, but Percival gets distracted by those lips of his. Newt Scamander has to repeat himself. "Sir... my hand..." "Right. Sorry," he lets go of the other's hand and wonders how he hadn't noticed he was keep holding it. Something is not right, because he has seen beautiful people before, wizard and witches, some of them have tried even flirting with him, but none of them had gotten a reaction like that from him. Although none of them had been as devastatingly beautiful as Newt Scamander​. He's overwhelmed by need and want; he has to touch, kiss and claim... Percival shakes his head, no, he wouldn't do that. There must be something wrong with his head, the months of torture must've affected him. Or maybe it's Scamander and his unnatural beauty? Percival needs to know, he needs answers and he's going to get them. *** He decides the best thing to do is to keep an eye on the magizoologist; Picquery has offered the man a job and it's only natural for Percival, as Director, to spend as much time with Scamander as possible just in case... It doesn't cross his mind it might be not a good idea at frist, not when he offers Newt to drop formalities and call each other by their given names, not when he hears his laughter for the frist time and thinks it's the most beautiful sound he's ever heard and certainly not when they both end up in his office talking about nothing in particular with grins on their faces. Instead, Percival Graves forgets eventually why he started to follow Newt everywhere and enjoys his time with him; he keeps being clumsy and unfocused around him, his eyes betray him sometimes and sparkle when he's in the same room as him; he doesn't care when he breaks his own promise and ignores the rules in order to give Newt what he wants. But he remembers, all comes back to him when Weiss informs him about the new group of traffickers that arrived New York only a week ago. "The leader is with them this time, I think we have a chance to capture her if we investigate further the information our sources have found." She explains, waiting for approval, which the Director gives. "Alright, take Fontaine and Abernathy with you." But Weiss shakes her head. "What about Roberts and Goldstein, Sir?" "What's wrong with Abernathy and Fontaine?" "They're men." Percival frowns, half irritated half confused. Then something must've clicked inside her head because the next thing she does is to look embarrassed and blurts out an apology. "I'm sorry! I forgot to tell you our sources have said the leader is half-veela, Sir." Now he gets it. He gives her permission and dismisses her with a gesture of his hand. She's gone by the time Percival realizes. Newt Scamander must be half-veela or at least part-veela, he must be the only one in his family that has inherited the abilities because Percival knows Theseus and he's​ nothing​ like his brother. He must be; it's the only reason why he affects Percival the way he does. That's why he can't stop thinking about him, that's why he stares at him and why he feels like he's starving every time Newt's around. But now he knows Newt enough to be sure he doesn't use it to hurt others, although​ everyone in the department seems to love him and can't say no to him when he looks at them with his big, bright eyes of his. It's impossible to deny him something. But he's the Director, he can't be compromised... he can't. He starts avoiding him and because he's a weak, weak man he only lasts two days. Two long and horrible days without Newt. And because Percival Graves is pathetic, he decides he doesn't care. At least now that he knows and he's prepared it can't get any worse... He's wrong. He has never been so wrong. *** Men that have been entranced by a Veela tend to act in certain (ridiculous) ways in order to catch her attention. Percival Graves doesn't do any of that, he just gives Newt whatever he asks for. "Percy, I think it's a great idea to start giving conferences​ here in MACUSA so the other wizards can learn more about magical creatures." The very next week all aurors are invited to a conference about the importance of the Erumpent and all of them have to go and listen to the magizoologist unless they want to be murdered by Percival Graves himself. "Percy, it's just a cub, I have to keep her and take care of her until she's prepared to be in the wild." "It's a full-grown​ Nundu and it's hissing at me right now." "That's because she knows you're angry, she's sensitive!" "Fine, keep it!" "Percy, would you help me feed my creatures?" "Your Graphorn almost killed me!" "Nathaniel would never do that! I'm sure you misunderstood his intentions; he's just grumpy because his horns are growing again." He wonders if the others notice his favoritism, he hopes not. The only one he's sure is aware of it it's Queenie Goldstein, he tries as best as he can to block her, but something must've slipped at least once, because she always has the same amused grin every time she sees him. After the first few times Percival just ignores her. *** Oddly enough it doesn't bother him, just on the days he has much work to do and Newt is sitting on his couch, reading or talking with Pickett and makes Percival's work twice as hard because he's adorably distracting. "Can you please turn it off?" He asks almost in a whisper because it's the first time he acknowledges it out loud, the first time he lets him know how much it affects him. "What? What are you talking about, Percy?" Even his confusion looks adorable and the auror wonders if he's doing it on purpose. "You know what, your... ability. I'm sure you don't need to use it all the time," he huffs, but his expression softens the moment he sees Newt's face. He's completely lost and Percival knows he's not faking his confusion; he has no idea. Of course Newt Scamander would be the only half-veela that doesn't know how to control his abilities. Because Mercy Lewis is cruel and wants to punish Percival for some reason. "It's nothing. Forget it." *** After a month of constant chasing, they manage to capture them. The problem is when Newt doesn't listen to Percival and enters the building to search for the magical creatures. And the Director follows him because Newt's semi-human magic has a strong pull, especially on Percival. He doesn't listen when Weiss yells behind him 'don't look at her.' With a movement of his wand, he disarms the three wizards that come after him. Then a woman with silver hair arrives and instead of attacking him she just tries to convince him to stop the fight and join her. Percival Graves has never been more confused in all his life because honestly that witch thinks he's going to turn his back on everything he believes him, that he's going to leave Newt because of her? Just because she's making eyes at him and talking so oddly slowly? He takes her wand in a second. She's completely shocked for a second, then she smirks, knowingly. "You must be Director Graves, am I right?" She purrs and it sounds so wrong in Percival's ears that he can't help but think of a dying cat. His answer is a wave of his hand, she kneels and her arms get tied by magic behind her back. She doesn't seem to mind. "Are you in love, Mr. Graves?" Percival doesn't think about love, he's a grown man and has no time for such things. But now that her words are in his head, just for a second the word 'love' transforms into images in his mind; soft curls and freckles, a soft voice in the afternoons in his office, a voice filled with passion for magical creatures. He blinks and shakes his head. He knows he's not in love, he just has been​ bewitched by Newt Scamander. Nothing he can't handle. Percival is about to leave the room and search for said magizoologist when he sees him, carrying a wampus cub in his arms and looking so happy the auror can't help but smile. "Percy, look! He's okay, he was just scared and a bit thirsty." Another creature to feed and take care of. "Oh, I see," the witch says and only then Percival remembers that he has capture four of the traffickers. Goldstein and Weiss storm in the room, followed by other two aurors that suddenly look away when Weiss tells them two. "Did you find her?" It's the first thing he ask and when Weiss looks at him with shock he adds: "Their leader." "That'd be me," the woman on the floor says. "I thought you were half-veela," he comments, although he doesn't mean to say it out loud. She smirks. "I am." Percival stares at her, hoping to notice the entrancing beauty he's used to, but instead he finds... nothing. "You look disappointed," she comments. "Were you expecting something else?" His gaze lands on Newt, who's sitting in a corner with the cub, making it follow a light on the floor he just conjured with his wand. He chuckles when the wampus jumps back into his arms and Percival grins like an idiot at the sight. Reluctantly, he looks back at her; no reddish curls, no green eyes and no freckles... That doesn't seem very enchanting. Maybe it's because of Newt. His beauty must be stronger than hers. That must be the reason he's not affected by her; Percival is so completely enthralled by him already. Still, it's hard for him to believe she's half-veela until she starts to sing and Collins runs right towards her and Percival petrifies him with a simple movement of his hand. Then he casts a strong Silencio on her. For a second he not only feels sorry for Collins but also irritation... no, he's offended and shocked because how on Earth does a man fall for such a trick when Newt Scamander is in the same room? He just doesn't understand. But instead of keep thinking about it, he tells Weiss and Goldstein to take care of everything and walks towards Newt to help him with the cub. Then, because he's ridiculous, he asks: "Newt, can you sing?" "No, but I can dance." Percival regrets asking in the first place. He doesn't need images of a very tempting Newt dancing in his head. No, he can't be distracted. "I learned an expressive dance when I was in the Middle East, I think it's called Baladi. The clothes to perform it are beautiful, I still have the one I used to dance there. It's not simple, but if you practice enough you get the basics in a few weeks. You have to move your torso, your hips and arms, it can be used to perform fluid movements, vibrations an-" Newt stops as soon as he notices his... distress. "Are you okay, Percy?" "P-perfectly fine." "Are you sure? I think you might have fever, do you want me to fetch you a healer?" "N-no, I'm alright." Newt doesn't look convinced. "So... Did you name him yet?" The magizoologist stares happily and the cub on his lap, who purrs when Newt strokes him behind his ear. "I like Damian, what do you think?" "It suits him." *** "I'm impressed with your team, Graves," Picquery says the very next day, when the Director present her the reports and the conclusion of the case. "And with you of course." Percival nods and smiles back. "And... actually, I'm surprised," she adds, amused. "It's​ been a long since you used so much wandless magic, not for combat at least... It looks like you really were trying to impress someone." "I wasn't," the response comes too quickly. He was, of course he was. Newt has mentioned a couple of times he considers Percival's​ ability to use wandless magic 'truly amazing'. And it has been proven since Newt arrived New York that the Director is a very weak man. Picquery seems to be very much aware of it as well. *** When Theseus Scamander arrives New York to pay a visit to his baby brother, Percival doesn't plan to mention anything about Newt and he tries not to show how much he affects him. But Theseus notices, of course he does. And he waits, he waits for Newt to go with Tina and Queenie for lunch. The smile on his lips dies when they're alone. "Mate, I really like you, but you're making very difficult for me to keep considering you my friend right now... Could you please stop ogling my little brother while I'm in the same room with you two? No, just stop ogling at him at all!" "I wasn't ogling him." Theseus' eyebrows quirk up. "Well... You can't hardly blame me, he's half-veela. Also, a warning would've been nice! I'm only human, Theseus!" "For Merlin's sake, Percival! What kind of nonsense is that? Newt is not half-veela, there's nothing like that in our family!" Percival freezes; his heart is beating so fast he can feel it in his ears. "Why would you think something like that?" The Director blushes at the question and Theseus eyes open wide with the same realization that is hitting his own mind right now. "You're not just attracted to him, aren't you? You're in love with him!" It seems he is and now Percival is panicking because he doesn't know what to do, because probably Newt doesn't love him back and a confession would only chase him away. And Percival doesn't know how to go back at his time before Newt, doesn't know how to live without him. Perhaps he should woo him, but doesn't know how. He turns to his brother, desperate. "Help me." "I will, but first you have to pass a few tests to prove yourself worthy of my brother." He has changed his mind, he's not as desperate to ask for Theseus' help. He'll think of something else. *** Theseus has returned to England, but not before warning him what would happen if he dares to break Newt's heart. Which is ridiculous because he'd never do something like that. 'Are you sure none of your ancestors is a Veela or part-veela?' he asked one last time before the other parted. Theseus rolled his eyes. 'Pretty sure. You're just besotted, my friend.' He is. The problem is that he doesn't know what to do about it yet. "Talk to him," it's Miss Goldstein's advice, weeks later. Percival doesn't know how. *** Newt is breathtakingly beautiful, he always has been and it doesn't matter he has not a single drop of Veela's blood in his system, he has something that is constantly pulling Percival towards him. But sometimes it's too much for Percival to handle. Like in that moment that Newt's so happy he just hugs Percival and the auror has no choice but to hug back. He inhales his scent and smiles over his shoulder. "I love you," he blurts out, because it seems his mouth has life on his own. Newt takes a step back, then two and stares at Percival for a couple of seconds. He has made a mistake. But then Newt blushes and smiles. "I love you, too." *** The first bet the whole Department of Magical Security made about them ends when they finally get together. The second bet ends at the wedding and leaves a few complaining about losing all their money. Picquery wins a considerable amount of money with the third one because she's the only one to know Graves well enough to be sure he would still act like the same besotted idiot even years later.

Joy (Inside Out): ESFJ

Dominant Extroverted Feeling [Fe]: Joy is warm, affirming, and group-minded. She’s an enthusiastic natural leader who takes pride in the work she and her team do. She’s good at keeping spirits up and does what she can to facilitate a happy environment. When everyone else lashes out at Sadness for ruining Riley’s happy memories, Joy is kind, patient, and gently instructs her not to touch another one until the issue has been resolved. She tries to remain sensitive to her feelings, though she has a harder time remaining calm when it happens again. Joy is good at suppressing her frustration and irritation and hides her true feelings to avoid hurting anyone’s feelings. When Disgust decides they want to be friends with the “cool” girls, Joy immediately wants to go over to them and start a conversation, which Disgust is against doing. Joy is good at mediating and smoothing things over. She recognizes the talents of the other emotions and utilizes them in order to delegate work. Joy wants to maintain peace and harmony. Joy is complimentary and enjoys pointing it out when others do a good job. She knows how to make others feel good about themselves, and wants Riley to connect with other people through this. Joy can be a bit controlling and incorrectly believes that happiness is the solution to everything.

Auxiliary Introverted Sensing [Si]: One of Joy’s favorite things to do is relive old memories. She understands their significance and their impact on Riley. When Joy watches as the workers dispose of old memories, she is horrified. These memories are important! Why would you throw away perfectly good memories? She can recall any one of Riley’s memories with extraordinary detail. She uses her memories in order to form plans, such as thinking to stack Riley’s imaginary boyfriends in order to get them back to headquarters. Sadness learns from her mistakes and eventually realizes that happiness isn’t the way to fix everything, because she has failed to improve things with joy on multiple occasions. She finally realizes that it is Sadness who can stop Riley from running back to Minnesota.

Tertiary Extroverted Intuition [Ne]: Although the past is important, Joy can be good at seeing possibilities for the future. She’s an optimist and she tries to make the best of every situation. Joy speculates about what the new house in San Francisco will look like. When everyone else is depressed by Riley’s new bedroom, Joy sees opportunities. She sees what it could be. When Joy wants to keep Sadness out of the way to keep her from causing more damage, she decides to try to make it “fun.” She creates a “game” where Sadness must remain inside the circle at all times. She later does the same thing with Bing Bong in an attempt to get him to show her where the train station is. Joy loves Imagination Land and understands the importance of creativity. Joy’s ideas come from the external world. She’s inspired by what other people say and formulates ideas by using her memories (Si) to generate creative solutions (Ne/Ti), like she did by stacking Riley’s imaginary boyfriends. Joy also comes up with the idea to use the rocket to launch herself out of the Memory Dump after Bing Bong says they “might as well be on another planet.”

Inferior Introverted Thinking [Ti]: Sometimes, Joy appears to struggle with being able to come up with logical solutions to the problems she faces. It didn’t occur to her to take the train until Bing Bong suggested it. Even though it’s unsafe, she goes along with his plan to take a shortcut through abstract thought anyway because of how desperate she is to get back to headquarters. When Sadness warns her about the potential danger, Joy ignores her. Because Joy is so focused on being upbeat and cheerful all the time, she fails to recognize the role that the other emotions play. She tries to brush off Bing Bong’s pain by being happy, but when that doesn’t work, Sadness steps in and commiserates with him. Joy sees Sadness empathizing with Bing Bong as “making him feel worse.” However, this approach is what manages to pull Bing Bong out of his funk. It’s difficult for Joy to wrap her brain around why that worked. She can sometimes disregard other people’s solutions to things, but can see their worth after taking a moment or two (such as Sadness suggesting they wake Riley up). She’s completely against the idea of scaring Riley awake, but eventually sees that using fear works.

Enneagram: 2w1 7w6 1w2 So/Sx

Quotes:

Joy: And you’ve met Sadness. She…well, she… I’m not actually sure what she does. And I’ve checked, there’s no place for her to go. So, she’s good. We’re good. It’s all great.

Joy: And we’re out. That’s what I’m talking about. Wooh! Another perfect day. Nice job everybody. Let’s get those memories down to long term.

Joy: Which… actually was really lucky. Because that gave us plenty of time to think about what our new house is going to look like. What? Let’s review the top five daydreams.

Joy: Hey, it’s nothing our butterfly curtains couldn’t fix. I read somewhere that an empty room is an opportunity.

Sadness: It’s like I’m having a breakdown. Joy: You’re not having a breakdown. Sadness: I keep making mistakes like that. Joy: No, you’re not!

Sadness: How about we wake her up? Joy: Sadness, that’s ridiculous. How could we possibly… [She follows Sadness’ gaze and spots Dream Productions.] How about we wake her up!? Sadness: Great idea, Joy. Joy: Thanks. Come on!

Sadness: Well, she wakes up sometimes when she has a scary dream. We could scare her. Joy: Scare her? No no, she’s been through enough already. Sadness: But Joy– Joy: Sadness you may know your way around down here, but I know Riley! We’re gonna make her so happy she’ll wake up with exhilaration! We’ll excite her awake! Sadness: That’s never happened before.

Joy: Ready? Sadness: I don’t think this happy thing is going to work. But if we scare her- Joy: Just follow my lead. Here we go!

Joy: Hey, that was a good idea. About scaring Riley awake. You’re not so bad. Sadness: Really? Joy: Nice work.

Joy: Woah woah! Sadness! [pushes her back] Sadness, stop! You’re hurting Riley! [Joy pulls a core memory from the satchel. It’s bright blue but slowly fades back to normal.] Sadness: Oh no, I did it again… Joy: If you get in here, these core memories will get sad! [Joy watches Family Island crumble. She looks down at Sadness. Joy, pained, decides.] I’m sorry. Riley needs to be happy. [She pulls the tube closed and starts up alone.]

Joy: Do you remember how she used to stick her tongue out when she was coloring? I could listen to her stories all day. I just wanted Riley to be happy. And now… [She holds the recent blue memory of Riley in class. Joy hugs them all until the memories fall out of her arms. Joy cries. A long, deep, painful cry. Joy has lost everything. Around her, memories fade and disappear. A tear falls onto the faded twisty-tree memory. Joy wipes it. In wiping the tear, the memory rewinds. Its color changes from gold to blue. In the memory, Riley sits in the tree with her parents, the team approaching in the distance. Joy looks closer. She rewinds more. In the memory: Riley sits in the tree, crying, alone. Joy remembers what Sadness said about the memory…] Sadness (V.O.): It was the day the Prairie Dogs lost the big playoff game. Riley missed the winning shot. She felt awful. She wanted to quit. [In the memory: Mom and Dad come to console Riley. Joy fast forwards.The hockey team lifts Riley on their shoulders and cheers. Riley smiles.] Joy: Sadness. Mom and Dad, the team… they came to help because of Sadness. [She turns to Bing Bong, ready to take action.] Joy: We have to get back up there! Bing Bong: Joy, we’re stuck down here. We might as well be on another planet. Joy: [getting an idea] Another planet. [sings] Who’s your friend who likes to play? [sings louder] Who’s your friend who likes to play? Bing Bong: His rocket makes you yell “Hooray!” [Far off, BING BONG’S ROCKET answers. They run towards it.] Bing Bong: Who’s the best in every way and wants to sing this song to say, who’s your friend who likes to play? Bing Bong Bing Bong! [Joy and Bing Bong find the rocket]

Joy: Sadness? Sadness? C’mon Sadness, where are you? Okay. If I were Sadness, where would I be? [Joy slumps to the ground. She kicks a leg up in the air.] Ohhh… everything is awful and my legs don’t work and you have to drag me around while I touch all the– [Joy stops. Something has caught her eye: a path of blue memories on the bottom shelves. Joy follows the path.]

Joy (Inside Out): ESFJ was originally published on MBTI Zone