Once again I need everyone to like me all day long so much and it's INCURABLE

Dark Cloud

rating: pg

Summary: If anyone understands the pain of losing someone you've already mourned, it's Jake. (AKA my dad passed a little over a month ago and it’s been difficult to understand my emotions so I’m doing what I do best and write about it) Warnings: Death of a parent, bad relationship with parents, abusive parent, self-deprecation, general anxiety, grief, feelings, etc. (Anything else and I’ll tag it.) Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x GN!Reader (Pretty sure GN but if you catch anything, let me know and I’ll change it to the correct pairing) Word Count: 3.8k Top Gun Taglist | Top Gun Masterlist

Jake Seresin was not known for his silence.

At any given moment, he could be counted on to produce a witty quip or sarcastic comment. He was known for having a big ego and an even bigger mouth. To those who knew him - those who loved him - it was a mild annoyance. To those who didn’t, it was infuriating.

Despite his reputation, however, there were moments of relative quiet in the life you shared with Jake.

There were moments of quiet reflection, often in the days before or after a deployment, where he ruminated on what he’d done with his life - the things he’d accomplished and grew prouder of with each passing day, the things he had yet to achieve but knew were within his reach, the future he’d built with you.

There were moments of bliss, comfortable stretches of time where no words were needed as you allowed yourselves to disappear into your own little world. Those moments were few and far between as you were rarely left alone long enough, but you savored every chance you had to enjoy the life you’d built together.

There were moments of discontent, seconds that felt like hours passing in an uncomfortable lull that only amplified the insecurities or worries or sorrows either of you felt. Those moments dragged on, heavy and bitter in an otherwise beautiful existence, but were luckily few and far between.

Some of the moments of quiet you shared stretched on endlessly and you were grateful. The moments of quiet bliss and peaceful contentment were moments you wouldn’t trade for anything. Others grew less intense with time but you were still grateful for them as they encouraged growth.

But as you sat in a deckchair almost as old as you in a backyard you’d spent a different lifetime in, one of those moments you hoped would disappear just as quickly as it began enveloped you.

This moment was not one driven by Jake. The silence was not his choice - not something prompted by a reflection on his own mortality or the future he often worried he was jeopardizing by following his dreams. There was no bliss, no pride, no happiness, no worry for himself. This moment was one he held entirely for you.

Three days had been spent in a heavy hush, a silence that pressed on your chest and left Jake quieter than you’d ever seen him. He’d been rendered speechless after a short midnight phone call from your mother and chose his words carefully in the days leading up to the moment you found yourself desperate to run from. The silence was tentative, as if he knew one wrong word would snip the fraying thread you found yourself clinging to, and you hated it.

Though you’d often asked him to be quiet - almost always teasingly - and though his presence brought you comfort, his silence only made the overwhelming noise of your thoughts that much harder to withstand.

Despite finding yourself surrounded by family, the vast majority knew little about you. Jake, however, knew you well. He knew that you’d spent those three days struggling to understand - to rationalize, to compartmentalize - feelings that were complicated at best. He knew when you needed guiding, when you needed him to ask questions to help catalogue what you felt. He knew when you needed him to distract you, offering you stories from his last deployment to pull you away from the heaviness at hand.

But, most important of all, he knew when you needed space.

The moment that enveloped you, the quiet he’d given you in the three days since receiving that phone call, was meant to be comforting. It was meant to be the space you needed - space to decompress, space to be uncertain, space to be overwhelmed, and you appreciated the thought behind it. You were grateful he wasn’t pushing, grateful he hadn’t joined your mother or other well-meaning friends and family members in asking how you were doing, but you’d grown tired of the quiet as the still of the backyard surrounded you.

Orange light from the setting sun lit the world aflame and burned nearly as warm as the flurry of emotion churning in the pit of your stomach. It was difficult to catalogue what exactly you felt - mentally, physically; everything blurred into one overwhelming ache that you felt deep in your bones - and you weren’t quite sure how to articulate that.

Very little about the few days you’d experienced made sense, least of all your emotions, but you knew that if anyone could string together meaning from your rambling stream of consciousness, it would be Jake.

With a sigh, you slumped deeper into your chair and blinked back the sting of tears threatening to fall.

Every single person you’d interacted with for the better part of three days began every conversation with a barrage of questions; how are you? How are you feeling? What can I do? They all declared how tough it must be, some even claimed to understand exactly what you were feeling. It must be so hard, they cooed, before promising they were there if you needed them.

It was all superficial, at best, but you took the question as a base to begin a conversation you’d been dreading.

“I’m fine, Jake.” There was little chance he didn’t notice the quiver in your voice, even less of a chance he didn’t notice the clench of your jaw and the heavy exhale you released, but he nodded, just the same.

“I believe you.”

Jake knew that you weren’t fine - not really, not entirely - but he also knew that what you were feeling was more complicated than grief.

Losing a parent was always going to be a difficult experience but losing a parent you’d gone no contact with for reasons beyond your control only further complicated matters. There was no easy explanation for the multitude of emotions clouding your brain and Jake understood that.

Jake lost his own father in his twenties. Though he’d still been on speaking terms with his father upon his death, if only barely, their relationship had always been difficult. His father was cold, controlling and domineering, so Jake understood complicated relationships with fathers just as he understood how difficult it was to grieve someone long before they died.

Everything you felt, every complicated emotion and messy blur of feelings, you knew he would understand. It was likely he’d felt them himself. Regardless, it still felt nearly impossible to articulate as you blinked against the sun’s harsh glow.

Few others had seen the toll your mother’s misguided attempts at encouraging a reconciliation between you and your father had taken. It was well-intentioned, you were sure, but ended in an anxiety you hadn’t felt since your teenager years.

From the safety of your shared home, Jake had witnessed a handful of tense phone conversations. He’d listened as your father threw insults thinly disguised as questions or compliments and belittled you in ways that made his blood boil. He’d watched as you slumped on the couch and gave one word answers as you willed those awful conversations to be over. He’d held you after as angry tears tracked down your cheeks and you wondered just what you’d done to deserve this kind of treatment from someone who was supposed to love you.

It made sense, then, why he’d remained so quiet at your side. And instead of pressing for an answer, asking questions that would only make the entire process that much harder for you, he waited. He sat quietly, green eyes flickering between you and the trees in the distance as he waited for you to gather your thoughts.

“None of this is for me.”

The declaration felt bitter, dripping acid as it fell from your lips, but it was honest in a way you couldn’t be with anyone else. No one else understood, no one else saw you - really, truly, completely saw you - in the way that Jake did. Though you felt overwhelmed, anxious and upset, you felt hopeful that he’d get it as he hummed.

“How do you figure?”

“Funerals are… hard,” your settled on, blinking hard against the tears you were frustrated still managed to sting at your eyes. “They’re supposed to be for people you love, people that meant something to you. They’re supposed to give you closure. It’s a final send-off, something that just… marks the end, I guess. You mourn someone that meant something to you but all he was to me was a nightmare.” With a deep breath, heavy and barely enough to fill your aching lungs, you shook your head. “I didn’t lose my dad on Sunday. I lost him when I was old enough to realize what kind of person he was.”

Anger, burning hot and all encompassing, made it easier for you to finally feel the emotions you’d been attempting to rationalize away. And Jake, who had been waiting calmly for the storm, sighed.

There was little doubt that Jake was also feeling a multitude of emotions neither of you felt capable of exploring in the moment but that did little to stop him from reaching out to take your hand in his own. The weight of it, the heat of his palm pressed to yours, tethered you to the moment. A gentle squeeze helped you remain present as you swallowed the emotion clumping in your throat.

“Everyone here things I’m the problem,” you began, quiet but angry. “They think I just up and abandoned my dad. They think I’m a bad person because I haven’t had a relationship with him in over a decade but no one bothers to ask why. No one asks what happened to make me leave home and refuse to come back. No one asks why I went nearly fifteen years without speaking to him. No one puts any of the blame on him. They just ask why I didn’t try harder.”

The still of the night stretched endlessly around you but Jake’s attention fell solely on you. Those green eyes burned into your skin, patient, as you took a shuddering breath.

“Why was it my responsibility?” The question, a broken plea for an answer you knew Jake couldn’t give as he’d wondered the same thing, lingered unanswered for a brief moment before you huffed. “I’m the child here. He was the adult, he was my dad. He was supposed to care, to make me a priority, to love me. Instead, he made me believe I was worthless. He told me that no one would ever love me, that I was too difficult for anyone to ever waste their time on me. He was a miserable, abusive, narcissistic son of a bitch but no one ever acknowledges any of that.”

Breathing grew more difficult with every word you spoke. The weight of every emotion you’d ever felt in relation to your father pressed on your chest, leaving a dull ache between your ribs as you took a moment to clench your jaw and regain some semblance of your composure.

Jake knew all of that.

The beginning of your relationship had proven difficult because of your shared difficult pasts. Both of you had been wary of commitment - Jake because of his own insecurities, his own doubt that he’d never be worthy of anything more than a one night stand - but you’d managed to take everything in stride. Just as you’d encouraged him to know his worth, he’d been instrumental in helping you to find your own.

There was a flicker of hurt in his eyes as he realized just how difficult the experience was proving to be, just how easy it was for you to revert to an old way of thinking. It seemed that no matter how hard you tried, no matter how much progress you’d made, you felt yourself spiraling as you scrubbed at your cheeks.

“Everyone says he talked about how proud he was of me. He told them all that I lived in California and had a good life but he didn’t know anything about me. He had no idea what I do for work. He didn’t know your name, didn’t even know we were married. He didn’t know anything about me but he had everyone convinced that I was the problem. And I just…” With a weary sigh, feeling the weight of the world pressing on your shoulders, you laughed. “It’s not fair. Why did he get to have friends and so many people to defend him? Why did he get to spend so much time being happy, not caring, loving his friends when I spent years wondering if anyone would ever be able to love me?”

Jake squeezed your hand gently and you could feel the weight of that single gesture. It meant more than he likely realized, warmed you from within, and you desperately wanted to look at him but you knew that sparing him a glance would only end with you dissolving into tears. You were on a roll, speaking the thoughts you knew made little sense to anyone else but had been plaguing you since you received that phone call, and stopping didn’t seem like an option.

“Sometimes I wonder if all of this was my fault.” The admission was quiet, your voice dropping to a near whisper and thick with emotion as you laughed quietly - self-deprecatingly. “I remember being so happy when I was little. I remember him taking me places, going out to dinner and seeing movies and going to the roller rink. I remember him coming to my softball games and my spelling bees. I remember feeling loved.”

With a shake of your head, you tugged at a fraying thread at the hem of your top. “I remember all of that, but then I also remember being ten and wondering if everyone else had a dad who yelled at them. I wondered if everyone else had a dad who would disappear for days when he was angry. I wondered if everyone else had a dad who would throw things at them and make them cry. I don’t… I know if I just got older and he got meaner or if I just gained consciousness and realized he was always mean.”

Faint sounds of life began to bleed into the backyard - the noise of your mother and step-father and various family members who’d dropped by with food and well-wishes milling about - but you ignored them all as you inhaled a shaking breath.

With a single glance spared at the silhouette of your mother, you laughed quietly. “My mom doesn’t remember it but we had an argument when I was, like, fourteen. I don’t remember what it was about but I remember her being so angry at me and saying that I was more and more like my dad every day. I didn’t cry much but I remember breaking down. Nothing anyone has ever said to me has hurt that bad. I think about her saying that all the time and I try so hard to prove that it’s not true but it feels like no matter what I do, no matter how hard I work to be a good person, I keep seeing more and more of my dad in myself.”

With another harsh breath, this one a desperate attempt to clear your throat of the emotion threatening to choke you, you wiped harshly at the tears that had started falling. Somewhere in the midst of your inner turmoil, there was an anger that you allowed yourself to cry. None of this was worth your anger, your upset, your energy, but it felt impossible to do anything more than continue spouting a stream of consciousness you only hoped Jake could still follow.

“While you were deployed, I went to the bar with some friends after a bad day. I wasn’t really in the mood but I ended up having fun,” you admitted, shrugging lightly as you dropped your gaze to where your intertwined hands rested on your thigh. “At the end of the night, though, it was just me and Blake on the patio and we were talking about all the stupid shit that was happening at work. I made a joke about trying to be more positive and he laughed. He said it was no use because I’ve always been a ‘dark fucking cloud’ and that was just who I was. It was a joke,” you conceded, lifting your hand to trace a nonsensical pattern across the back of Jake’s hand. “But it really wasn’t. He’s right. I’ve always been a dark cloud and I’ve always been miserable and bitter and angry.”

A quiet laugh, devoid of any humor and clearly as defeated as you felt, escaped as you shook your head. “All the words parts of me, all the things I wish I could change, all the things I know that make it difficult for people to like - let alone love me - are all parts of my dad. And I just wonder, what happens if I can’t fix those parts? What happens if I spend the rest of my life as this dark cloud? What happens if one day, all my friends realize how miserable I make them? What happens if, one day, you realize that you could do better? You can be a jackass but you’re a good man, Jake. You could easily find someone who loves you that’s bright and happy and warm. I worry that I’m going to die alone, miserable and forgotten, just because I’m me; a dark fucking cloud that pushed everyone away.”

Jake allowed the silence to linger for a moment, giving you a chance to catch your breath. When he realized you were finished speaking, he reached out to carefully brush away the tears tracking down your cheeks. From the corner of your eye, you caught the look on his face - a deep sadness you’d never seen from him before, complete with shiny eyes and a frown - and felt a fresh wave of tears stinging at your eyes.

Though you tried blinking them away, Jake shook his head.

“Sweetheart.” He slid his chair a touch closer, his knee knocking into yours as he lifted his free hand to your cheek. “I don’t say this often, but you’re wrong. I don’t know what to say that will make all of this better but I can tell you what I do know.” With gentle fingers, he tilted your head to meet his eyes and, despite the urge to glance away, you held his gaze.

“You are not a dark cloud.” His conviction was clear, certain and strong as he searched your face. “You know that everyone was surprised when you showed up to the Hard Deck. They couldn’t believe that someone as good as you, someone as bright as you, could love me. I can be an ass, but you? Even when you don’t want to, you try to see the best in people. It doesn’t matter how bad your day is, doesn’t matter how rough things are, you’re always trying to encourage the people in your life. I can’t count how many times you’ve told me your day was shit only for you to turn around and spend the night hyping up Bob, cheering up Phoenix, singing with Rooster, making Coyote laugh.

You’re the most supportive person I’ve ever met. Anyone who asks you to show up for them, you’re there and cheering the loudest. You push people to be the best versions of themselves. When I’m in my head, you’re the person to bring me back. Despite everything, you’re a good person. You try so hard and everyone can see it. I’m difficult to like, but you? There’s nothing difficult about liking you and there sure as hell isn’t anything difficult about loving you. You love me, you make me happy, and I’m lucky I get the chance to love you.”

With another gentle squeeze to your hand, Jake sighed. “None of this is your fault. You were a kid, sweetheart,” he reminded you, careful to avoid irritating your skin further as he brushed away the few tears that continued to fall. “I know all of this is hard. I know you loved him when you were a kid and I know there’s still some kind of love there. I know it still hurts, even though he hasn’t been in your life. And I know that none of this makes any sense. I can’t tell you not to worry about any of this but I can promise you that I’ll remind you every chance I get of just who you are. I’ll be here to remind you just how loved you are. You are a good person, sweetheart, and I love you. On the good days, on the bad days, on every other day in between; I love you and I’m not the only one. You mean so much to so many people and we’re lucky to have you in our lives.”

As the tears fell faster, Jake stood from his seat and tugged you up after him. He pulled you into an embrace, arms wrapped tightly around your body, and pressed a soft kiss to the crown of your head. He allowed you to squeeze him tight, body pressed close to his, and waited patiently for you to calm.

“I love you,” he whispered, voice carrying through the night when your breathing began to even. “You know I’m not just saying this for the sake of saying it. I’m not that nice.”

When you laughed quietly, Jake smiled. “Thank you.” With another soft squeeze to his middle, you sighed. “I love you, too, Jake.”

“Alright, what d’you want to eat?” Jake shifted then, tipped his head to look you in the face, as he redirected the conversation. He knew there was an apology coming - one neither of you needed - so he stopped it before you could. “You haven’t eaten anything all day. And if you tell me you’re not hungry, I’m calling Rooster and letting him sing as many songs as he can,” he teased, waiting to see if his joke would earn him a smile.

“You decide,” you offered, smiling lightly as you nodded. “I don’t want to make any decisions. I’ll have whatever you get.”

“Okay,” he relented, appeased by the easy agreement as he wrapped an arm around your waist and began guiding you back to the house. “C’mon, we’ll get you some water and figure it out.”

The pair of you knew the pain of this loss better than anyone. There was no easy resolution, no easy answer for the messy feelings you still felt roiling in the pit of your stomach - no solution for the feelings this dredged up in Jake - but you felt a little more at peace.

The path now placed in front of you was in no way straightforward, not one you’d be able to navigate easily, but you felt hopeful that there would be a rainbow shining bright through the dark clouds, just as long as Jake was by your side.

_____________________________________________________

Author's Note: I dunno, man. It's been a rough two months.

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Question: if you were one of the Supergirl writers and had been tasked with explaining how or why Lena didn’t know Kara was Supergirl (given how generally obvious it would be when Lena— the world’s smartest woman— has interacted with both Kara and SG) would you have written something fundamentally different than what the show decided to go with?

i couldn’t sleep this morning, suddenly remembered this ask, and decided i desperately needed to answer it.

so my absolute favorite explanation for this was in "The Love of Forgetting" by KL Morgan. i know it would've been extremely difficult to execute on film, but i would've really liked if the explanation had been that kara used cloaking tech or the "image inducer" and that it slightly changed her face. i thought this was SO smart in the fanfic, and one of the few explanations i could actually buy; that lena doesn't recognize kara because they LITERALLY don't look the same. just both blonde, fit, and beautiful, but not the same faces. it would've been amazing if they'd just used her stunt double, but then you wouldn't have your star actress in the dramatic scenes, so. i get it.

the only other explanation i liked was for superman. i'd think i'd seen a post on here about it, but it was the idea that no one THOUGHT superman had an alter ego. no one imagined that he would pretend to be human in his downtime and hold down a job and have friends. no one was looking for superman in the real world, so no one saw the similarities between he and clark kent. that might get us to lena not recognizing kara, but my god... the evidence was abundant and insurmountable on the show which leads us to fanfic's most popular explanation...

denial. i think this one treads water a bit because we know lena's had a highly traumatic, dysfunctional upbringing. they even show us that her one other friend CANONICALLY GIVEN, andrea, lied to her and betrayed her. she just doesn't want to see it. we also see her, quite regularly, show a form of disappointment with this highly idealized concept of supergirl. she moved to national city for her. does quite a lot to get her attention and impress her. and then still believes that supergirl doesn't trust her, that she can't move past her last name. "never meet your heroes." i think maybe denial might stop her from thinking her only friend in national city and second in her life (maybe third if you cound sam) would be SO duplicitous for four years, even if lena did see all the signs (the most egregious of which to me was Supergirl SAYING HER NAME WAS KARA!) it's just extremely difficult for me to believe that a smart woman like cat grant would figure it out but not lena, so it really leaves the only explanation is emotional for lena, which sort of tracks (but not really.)

we know the show dragged it out for years because it was the most important (and only) emotional element to the show, which to me is a critique of how little they managed to build for kara than anything reasonable about lena being unable to see it. lena "finding out" was always going to be a seasonal arc, but they kept pushing it off while failing to make us care about anything else in the plot. then it's this massive amount of time that's passed but a genius hasn't guessed, but EVERYONE ON THE SHOW INCLUDING CHILDREN, have guessed kara is supergirl. it was never going to make sense. what i would've fundamentally done differently is known how to write a la ali adler in season 1 and given us real conflict, stakes, character development, etc. for kara that didn't weight her conflict with lena SO heavily that it had to be drawn out until the show was literally ending.

Dark Cloud

Rating: PG

Summary: Ashton is there in a difficult time. (AKA my dad passed a few weeks ago and it's been difficult to understand my emotions so I'm doing what I do best and write about it) Warnings: Death of a parent, bad relationship with parents, abusive parent, self-deprecation, general anxiety, grief, feelings, etc. (Anything else and I'll tag it.) Pairing: Ashton x GN!Reader (Pretty sure GN but if you catch anything, let me know and I'll change it to the correct pairing) Word Count: 3k (not much has changed, honestly)

Though Ashton was not known for his prolonged silence, he had moments of relative quiet.

There were moments of quiet reflection, peaceful bouts of silence where he ruminated on the things he’d accomplished - the things he grew prouder of with each passing day, the things he had yet to achieve but knew were within his reach. There were moments of bliss, comfortable stretches of time where no words were needed as you allowed yourselves to disappear into your own little world, surrounded by love and light. There were moments of discontent, seconds that felt like hours passing in an uncomfortable lull that only amplified the insecurities or worries or sorrows either of you felt.

Some of those moments stretched on endlessly; the blissful quiet and the peaceful contentment. Others never lingered very long and grew fewer and farther in between the longer you spent together. But as you sat in a deckchair almost as old as you in a backyard you’d spent a different lifetime in, one of those moments you hoped would disappear just as quickly as it began enveloped you.

This moment was not one driven by any need of his. There was no rumination on his life, no bliss or discontent. There was no worry about the future or grief for the past. This moment was one he held entirely for you.

Three days had been spent in a heavy hush, a silence that pressed on your chest and left Ashton quieter than you’d ever seen him.  He’d been rendered speechless after a quiet midnight phone call from your mother and chose his words carefully in the days leading up to the moment you found yourself desperate to run from.

Though his presence gave you comfort, eased some of the ache in your chest and made the tingling in the tips of your fingers more bearable, his silence only made the overwhelming noise of your thoughts that much harder to withstand.

Unlike nearly everyone that surrounded you, Ashton knew you well. He knew that you’d spent the three days struggling to rationalize feelings that were complicated at best. He knew when you needed guided, when you needed him to ask questions and help cataloguing what you felt. He knew when you needed him to distract you, offering stories from the road to pull you away from the heaviness at hand. But, most important of all, he knew when you needed space.

The moment that enveloped you, the quiet he’d given you in the three days since receiving that phone call, was meant to be comforting. It was meant to give you space to decompress, space to be uncertain, and you appreciated the thought behind it. You were grateful he wasn’t pushing, grateful he hadn’t joined your mother or other well-meaning friends and family members asking how you were doing, but you’d grown tired of the quiet as the still of the backyard surrounded you.

Orange light from the setting sun lit the world aflame and burned nearly as warm as the flurry of emotion churning in the pit of your stomach. It was difficult to catalogue what exactly you felt - mentally, physically; all of it blurred together in one overwhelming ache - and you weren’t quite sure how to articulate that.

Very little about the few days you’d experienced made sense, least of all your emotions, but you knew that if anyone could string together meaning from you stream of consciousness, it would be Ashton.

With a sigh, you slumped deeper into your chair and blinked back the sting of tears threatening to fall.

Every single person you’d interacted with for the better part of two days began every conversation with a barrage of questions; how are you? How are you feeling? What can I do? They all declared how tough it must be, some even claimed to understand exactly what you were feeling. It must be so hard, they cooed, before promising they were there if you needed them.

It was all superficial, at best, but you took the question as a base to begin a conversation you’d been dreading.

“I’m fine, Ash.” There was little chance he didn’t notice the quiver in your voice, even less of a chance he didn’t notice the clench of your jaw and the heavy exhale you released, but he nodded, just the same.

“I believe you.”

Ashton knew that you weren’t fine - not really, not entirely - but he also knew that what you were feeling was more complicated than grief. 

Losing a parent was always going to be a difficult experience but losing a parent you’d gone no contact with for reasons out of your control only complicated things.There was no easy explanation for the multitude of emotions clouding your brain and he understood that. Ashton understood complicated relationships with parents just as he understood how difficult it was to grieve someone long before they died.

Everything you felt, every complicated emotion and messy blur of feelings, you knew he would understand. Regardless, it still felt nearly impossible to articulate as you blinked against the sun’s harsh glow.

Few others had seen the toll your mother’s misguided attempts at encouraging a reconciliation between you and your father had taken. It was well-intentioned, you were sure, but ended in an anxiety you hadn’t felt since your teenage years.

From the safety of your shared home, Ashton had witnessed a handful of tense phone conversations. He’d listened as your father threw insults thinly disguised as questions or compliments and belittled you in ways that made his blood boil. He’d watched as you slumped on the couch and gave one-word answers as you willed the conversations to be over. He’d held you after as angry tears tracked down your cheeks and you wondered just what you’d done to deserve this kind of treatment from someone who was supposed to love you.

It made sense, then, why he’d remained so quiet at your side. And instead of pressing for an answer, asking questions that would only make the process harder for you, he waited. He sat quietly, hazel eyes flickering between you and the trees in the distance as he waited for you to gather your thoughts.

“None of this is for me.”

The declaration felt bitter, dripping acid as it fell from your lips, but it was honest in a way you couldn’t be with anyone else. No one else understood, no one else saw you - really, truly, completely saw you - in the way that Ashton did. Though you felt overwhelmed, anxious and upset, you felt hopeful that he’d get it.

“Funerals are… hard,” you settled on, blinking hard against the tears you willed away. “They’re supposed to be for people you love, people that meant something to you. They’re supposed to give you closure. It’s a final send-off, something that just… marks the end, I guess. You mourn someone that meant something to you but all he was to me was a nightmare. I didn’t lose my dad on Sunday. I lost him when I was old enough to realize what kind of person he was.”

Anger, heavy and encompassing, made it easier for you barrel through the feelings you’d been bottling up. And Ashton, who had been waiting for the storm, sighed. It was heavy with an emotion neither of you intended to explore in that moment but accompanied by him reaching out to take your hand in his own. The weight of it, the heat of his palm pressed to yours, tethered you to the moment. A gentle squeeze helped you remain present as you swallowed the emotion clumping in your throat.

“Everyone here thinks I’m the problem. They think I just up and abandoned my dad. They think I’m a bad person because I haven’t had a relationship with him in over a decade but no one asks why. No one asks what happened to make me leave home and not come back. No one asks why I went nearly fifteen years without speaking to him. No one puts any of the blame on him. No one asks why I went nearly fifteen years without speaking to him. They just asks why I didn’t try harder. But why was it my reasonability? I’m the child here. He was supposed to be my dad. He was supposed to care, to love me, to make me a priority. I was supposed to be important to him but he made my life a living hell. He made me believe no one would ever love me. He made me believe I was worthless. He was a miserable, abusive, narcissistic, son of a bitch but no one acknowledges any of that.”

Breathing grew more difficult with every word you spoke. The weight of every emotion you’d felt in relation to your father pressed on your chest, leaving a dull ache between your ribs as you took a moment to grit your teeth.

Ashton knew what happened. The beginning of your relationship had proven difficult because of it. He had his own issues - his own insecurities and traumas to work through - and had taken yours in stride. But he’d also been instrumental in encouraging you to find yourself. Therapy, both individual and couple’s, was something he’d inspired you to take on and you could see the hurt in his eyes as you felt yourself falling back into an old way of thinking.

However, it seemed that no mater how hard you tried - no matter how much progress you’d made, you felt yourself spiraling as you struggled to come to terms with what you were feeling.

“He told everyone how proud he was of me, that I lived in California and had a good life. But he didn’t know anything about me. He had no idea what I do for work. He didn’t know your name, he didn’t even know we were engaged. He didn’t know anything but he had everyone convinced I was the problem. And I just… it’s not fair. Why did he get to have friends and so many people to defend him? Why did he get to spend his life existing, happy, when I spent years wondering if anyone would ever be able to love me?”

Ashton squeezed your hand gently and you could feel the weight of that single gesture, of his warm gaze burning into the side of your face, but you knew that sparing him a glance would only end with you dissolving into tears. You were on a roll, speaking the thoughts you knew made little sense but had been plaguing you since you received your mother’s phone call, and stopping didn’t feel like an option.

“Sometimes, I wonder if all of this was my fault.” The admission was quiet, your voice dropping to a near whisper and thick with emotion as you laughed quietly, self-deprecatingly.  “I remember being so happy when I was little. I remember going out and doing stuff, getting dinner and seeing movies and going to the roller rink. I remember feeling loved. I remember him coming to my softball games and my spelling bees. But then I also remember being ten and wondering if everyone had a dad who yelled at them and threw things at them and made them cry. And I don’t know if I just got older and he got meaner or if I, I don’t know, gained consciousness and realized he was always mean.”

Faint sounds of life began to bleed into the backyard - the noise of your mother and step-father and various family members who’d dropped by with food and well-wishes milling about - but you ignored them all as you inhaled a shaking breath. 

“My mom doesn’t remember it but we had an argument when I was, like, fourteen. I have no clue what it was about but I remember her saying that I was more and more like my dad every day. Nothing anyone has ever said to me has hurt that bad. I think about her saying that all the time and I try so hard to prove that it’s not true but it feels like no matter what I do, no matter how hard I work to be a good person, I keep seeing more and more of my dad in myself.”

With another harsh breath, this one a desperate attempt to clear your throat of the emotion threatening to choke you, you wiped harshly at the tears that had started falling. Somewhere in the midst of your inner turmoil, there was an anger that you allowed yourself to cry.  None of this was worth your anger, your sadness, your energy, but it felt impossible to do anything more than continue spouting a stream of consciousness that you only hoped Ashton could follow.

“While you were on tour, I went to the bar with some friends after a bad day. I wasn’t really in the mood but I ended up having fun,” you admitted, shrugging lightly as you dropped your gaze to where your intertwined hands rested on your thigh. “At the end of the night, though, it was just me and Blake on the patio and we were talking about all the stupid shit that was happening at work. I made a joke about trying to be more positive and he laughed. He said it was no use because I’ve always been a ‘dark fucking cloud’ and that was just who I was. It was a joke,” you conceded, lifting your hand to trace a nonsensical pattern across the back of Ashton’s hand. “But it really was’t. He’s right. I’ve always been a dark cloud and I’ve always been miserable and bitter and angry.”

A quiet laugh, devoid of any humor and sounding just as defeated as you felt, escaped as you shook your head. “All the worst parts of me, all the things I wish I could change, all the things I know make it difficult for people to like me, let alone love me, are parts of my dad. And I just wonder, what happens if I can’t fix those parts? What happens if I spend the rest of my life as this dark cloud? What happens if one day, all my friends realize how miserable I make them? What happens if, one day, you realize that you could do better? You’re such a bright light, Ash, and you could so easily find someone who loves you that’s bright and happy and warm and matches your energy. I worry that I’m going to die alone and miserable and forgotten, just because I’m me; this dark fucking cloud that pushed everyone away.”

Ashton allowed the silence to linger for just a moment, giving you a second to catch your breath and decide you were finished speaking, before reaching out to carefully brush away the tears tracking down your cheeks. From the corner of your eye, you caught the look on his face - a deep sadness you’d never seen from him before, complete with shiny eyes and a frown - and felt a fresh wave of tears stinging at your eyes.

Though you tried blinking them away, Ashton shook his head. “Oh, honey.” He slid his chair a touch closer, his knee knocking into yours as he lifted his free hand to your cheek. “I wish I knew what to say to make you feel better,” he began, quiet but as serious as you’d ever heard him. “I don’t, but I can tell you what I do know.” With gentle fingers, Ashton tilted your head to meet his eyes and, despite the urge to glance away, you held his gaze.

“You are not a dark cloud.” His conviction was clear, certain and strong as he searched your face. “Even when you don’t want to, you try to see the best in people. It doesn’t matter how bad your day is, you always try to encourage the people in your life. You’re the most supportive person I’ve ever met. Anyone who asks you to show up for them, you’re there and cheering the loudest. You push people to be the best versions of themselves. When I’m in my head, you’re the person to bring me back. Despite everything, you’re a good person. You try so hard and everyone can see it. You’re not difficult to like and you’re really not difficult to love. You match my energy, you make me happy, and I’m lucky I get the chance to love you.”

With another gentle squeeze to your hand, Ashton sighed. “None of this is your fault. You were a kid, honey,” he reminded you, careful to avoid irritating your skin further as he brushed away the few tears that continued to fall. “I know all of this is hard. I know you loved him when you were a kid. I know it still hurts, even though he hasn’t been in your life and he hurt you so bad. And I know none of it makes any sense. I can’t tell you not to worry about any of this but I can promise that I’ll be here to remind you of just who you are. I’ll be here to remind you just how loved you are. You’re a good person, honey, and I do love you. On the good days, on the bad days, on every other day; I love you and I’m not the only one. You mean so much to so many people.”

As the tears fell faster, Ashton stood from his seat and tugged you up after him. He pulled you into an embrace, arms wrapped tightly around your body, and pressed a soft kiss to the crown of your head. He allowed you to squeeze him tight, body pressed close to his, and hummed soothingly as he waited for you to calm.

“I love you,” he whispered, voice carrying through the still of the night as he shifted to meet your eyes once more.

“Thank you.” With another soft squeeze to Ashton’s middle, you nodded. “I love you, too.”

“Alright, what d’you want to eat? You haven’t eaten anything all day. And if you tell me you’re not hungry, I’m calling Michael and letting him explain Rocket League, in detail,” he teased, waiting to see if his joke would earn him a smile.

“You decide,” you offered, smiling lightly as you nodded. “I don’t want to make any decisions. I’ll have whatever you get.”

“Okay,” he relented, appeased by the agreement as he wrapped an arm around your waist and began guiding you back to the house. “C’mon, we’ll get you some water and figure it out.”

There was no resolution, no easy answer for the messy feelings you still felt roiling in the pit of your stomach, but you felt a little more at peace. It wouldn’t be a straightforward path, not one you’d be able to navigate easily, but you felt hopeful that you could see a rainbow through the dark clouds with Ashton by your side.

______________________________________________________

Author's Note: Honestly, I wasn't sure I should post. But I realized this blog has been here for me in some of my worst moments. Best of times, worst of times, I've written. For 5sos, here on this blog. So, here it is. September was a difficult month. It started beautifully with my 5sos show but got worse. But I'm still grateful for the opportunity to have seen the boys. I do have a fluffy Ash fic I'm working on. Funny how I always return to them when things get rough. Anyway, hope y'all are well!

I think the ss fandom would have less issues if they didn’t pretend to have some sort of moral high ground with their ship. They’ve convinced themselves ss is actually a genuine love story and how they’re actually one of if not the most developed and healthy ships in the series because….. *checks notes.* they were on the same team and… what else? Uhh.. they’re the same age and They look fairly aesthetically pleasing together ig…

It’s just funny for a ship with such awful moments like the Genjutsu (which is STILL talked about for how it practically put a nail in the ss coffin and how it gives people second hand embarrassment lmao.) that they STILL somehow think they can pretend they’re morally better than other pairings. There’s just some hilarious about an ss speaking about how “toxic” or “abusive” ships like k*kasaku, sasuk*rin, or sns are when they ship ss.

It’s crazy how a dumb wish fulfillment non canon ship like K*kasaku is still better than ss simply because they don’t have any godawful moments. S*sukarin is kind of a different case considering it does have a few really bad moments, but the fact Sasuke doesn’t completely hate Karin does put it above ss. Sns doesn’t need to be explained ofc lol.

It’s just embarrassing for a canon ship in such a well known series to be so bad that non canon ships… hell… crack ships are better than ss. It’s even more embarrassing the fans pretend it’s the single best thing in the entire history of the world lol.

Because they always manage to

twist any bad moment into something positive (Sasuke put Sakura in a violent genjutsu to protect her despite the fact he could have used a way less violent way to do that)

Or they steal moments from Naruto and Sasuke's relationship (Sakura saved him, Sakura is his one and only, Sakura knows his heart etc.)

they simply lie or make shit up (like claim Sasuke responded to Sakura's call when he literally said his line first as one should know considering how manga is read from right to left)

they take things out of context (like claiming the forehead poke is a good thing when even Itachi in his last moments acknowledged poking Sasuke's forehead was a wrong thing to do and stopped doing it and put their foreheads together, bringing him close instead of pushing him away with his hand)

I don't even know, delusion is a strong force. I have seen all kinds of wild takes from SS, it's hard to be surprised by anything anymore.

Their dynamic does not change. Kishi even makes callbacks to the past to show how it does not change.

Now growth. No change. No mutual feelings. Only Sakura's desperate attempts to get Sasuke to like her. It's really sad.

"You believe you are unworthy, but I know you are so much more. Sometimes the world doesn't need a white knight, sometimes it needs something darker, so you have two choices: you could either become the destroyer of this world, or you could be its savior." - Dr. Fate (Black Adam 2022)

Pick the picture(s) that you're drawn to, then scroll down for its corresponding message.

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Pile One👤

The backbone of your shadow relates to manipulation and the desperation to be known and seen, even if it means being acknowledged for notorious deeds. You're savvy when it comes to being charismatic and having your way with others, as well as getting on another person's good side. You have this cheeekiness about you that's both your strength and your downfall, it's charming and useful for networking but is also a gateway for making enemies that don't find your wittiness to be amusing or convincing. You could see another person's trust as something that you should take, from finding their weaknesses and exploiting them through soft lies or willingly dousing the person with what it is that they seek, even if it's you, in particular, because I'm seeing a lot of puppetry/pinnochio themes, you could be the type to be a couple of steps ahead of people that want to manipulate you by allowing them to think that they have power over you, but it ends up being you with most of the control in the situation. On the other side of your shadow, is acceptance that everyone will not like you and it's not your responsibility to win over their approval and letting go of thinking that everything needs force. Coexisting with your shadow, is understanding that recognition is yours by not overcompensating and and overexposing yourself to multiple people and causes. Allowing things about yourself and your life to remain a taboo, is what makes you harmonize with your shadow side while still being able to shine.  Why the world needs this, is because you teach others that lust or desire for something that someone has, isn't a valid admission or reason to give away your trust. I feel like this has a lot to do with independence, and valuing self-importance, with not just the people that learn from you, but also yourself. You could be likely to come across someone who's prone to reconciling with another person out of longing or to acquire something about them that they feel that they don't have within themselves (confidence, love, strength, etc), feeling that they need to look or be a certain way to be attractive (maybe even cling to something that they consider an enhancement that they need), or any other situation that relates to seeking power that they feel that they don't have. Your shadow mostly teaches others to find their own strengths so that they don't feel like power is something that they need to consume or force out of a person through manipulation, but I also get that the benefit of being around your shadow relates to beauty as well—it enlightens a person to know that feeling inadequate about their looks doesn't mean to do more, there's a physical appeal in what they keep as a mystery or the unparalleled allure that comes from remaining unfiltered.

Pile Two👤

I'm getting that the people who are drawn to this pile are highly in tune and developed with what the traits of their shadow side are, you guys could be rebels and skeptics instead of blindly conforming to anything, but besides having your own thoughts and beliefs, there could be something different about you that you can't exactly pinpoint on why you don't feel like you can relate to anyone in this world or what makes people likely to alienate you in some way, I feel like at some point in your life, you thought that mimicking your surroundings instead of expressing the authentic parts about yourself would make you feel more included or at home, but it never really changed anything in regards to how people treat you besides making you feel even more alone inside. This could be something that you struggled with before growing more confident with yourself, but your message about your shadow, is that the only thing about it that's holding you back, is the way that you choose to go about accepting it. Your message reminds me of the movie Megamind. Don't allow your loneliness or another person's poor reaction to you, interpret your differences as a weapon. Being unique or misunderstood shouldn't conclude you as someone who's an enemy to the world or someone to be feared. Furthermore, just because you're different, doesn't mean that you don't have anything useful to contribute to the world. Change is the only constant, and what's more useful to change than something new and what isn't common? Accepting yourself doesn't mean reducing yourself to what other people call you, nor does it reflect on how much you appear to not care on the outside. It takes grit to walk freely without anyone's validation, but don't let the hardness from your surroundings, harden you inside, or make you believe that just because the world isn't showing you care for your feelings, that you aren't deserving to express and receive sensitivity. Why the world needs your shadow side, is because that there's a truth that needs to be exposed within humanity—there isn't anything normal about it. You help others take a step closer to loving and appreciating who they are by helping them let go of trying to get others to normalize the things that aren't, and to instead, just normalize their selves. Co-existing doesn't come from fighting all of the time, or trying to get people to agree with you, co-existing starts with just being.

Pile Three👤

(specifically 1:36)

What I'm picking up about your shadow side, is that it relates to possessiveness and smothering. You guys could be very powerful visionaries because of how much they're derived from pent up emotions that you could have been taught to keep in or a lot to do with love that wasn't reciprocated, the ace of cups isn't in your spread, but I'm just getting this image of this huge cup being overfilled your feelings and dreams. When I think of the people in the pile, I think of Georgia from the show 'Ginny and Georgia' on Netflix. You guys have a huge heart, and you mean well, but how you direct and show your love can be depicted with the worst parts of your shadow, it doesn't mean that you're a bad person at all, this is just about not particularly making the best choices when you react emotionally. What makes your shadow side combust, is not having any boundaries with the real world and what you envision for yourself, in a way that makes you inconsiderate, but also prone to heartbreak, like you could treat others as if this is just your world and they're the props. This could also look like not having boundaries with others or trying absorb another person's space. I keep picking up these specific scenarios, or should I say messages? To be careful with assuming that your love language should be something that another person should accept. I'm seeing someone growing up to be a parent, who loves their child to pieces, but shows it in a way that's self absorbed and suffocates the child in the end by wanting to give them a life that you didn't have but you don't realize that you're restricting them from their growth or identity. I'm also seeing someone having a specific dream about their life that they want for themselves, but are wanting specific people to fill in roles without realizing that everyone has free will and it's their right to have it. These themes are about making other people your happiness and in some way, robbing them of their right to make decisions in however way that this applies to your life, this isn't at all to say that this makes you bad, to make you aware. Similarly to pile one, your shadow side is needed for both the world and yourself, your message is also like life and death. You could have had a lot of endings, and are having trouble letting people or things go because of fear over it possibly being literal, as if your life ends if you can't have this specific person or achieve these specific goals, or that the only way to continue on is by living through another person, but it's not true. I feel that the cup I was thinking about earlier is actually supposed to symbolize the fountain of youth, you are the source for what makes your life lively, it isn't to be measured by the things that don't work out, create more dreams, goals, interests, but most importantly, see the next day as a reason not to attach to whoever or whatever isn't meeting you half way.

some thoughts on jane tennant & kate whistler and the awful takes i’ve seen on their characters so far...

I think there’s a particularly harmful narrative out there that has been started that Jane “uses & abuses” the people around her (namely, Whistler) when she needs something or when she’s in trouble and I just think that’s incredibly antithetical to who she’s been designed and created to be as a character. Do you really think the writers would a) do that to Vanessa (or Tori), b) be so careless in handling an incredibly complex, woman of colour (and in senior leadership, no less) who has been involved in the espionage game and all the toxicity surrounding espionage, war, intelligence and politics in this current political climate and c) write female friendships/working relationships to be so toxic in an age where females doing literally anything on tv are scrutinized for no good reason? Do you think that maybe, just maybe, it was intentional from the start to highlight how at the core of Jane’s being, that she’s not an inhuman byproduct of what the CIA creates its operatives to be?

NCIS: Hawaii, so far, has been deeply intentional in the way the seasonal story arcs/thematic arcs are crafted. Everything about each season has led up to what happens in its finales. The first and second season has established and zeroed in on the theme of family/found family/etc., and that’s not something that’s just thrown in there because it sounds pretty or cute. The theme of family is constantly reinforced because it’s the backbone that drives this series. Ohana. It’s what sets the Hawaii office apart from the other shows. It’s not as dark, gritty, violent, or depressing, and that actually works to its advantage. Family drives every aspect of this show and its characters. And you know what else? Family is messy. And while I still have my own grievances on how they’ve focused so heavily on Jane (again, for obvious reasons), her family/kids, and her past and not so much the other characters (yet), I also believe it’s worked to their advantage. I haven’t seen a show do flashbacks and retrospective character study on its characters, and do it well, in a while especially for a “police procedural.” For us to even have flashbacks and character-centric episodes is a gift for a procedural, and we have to remember that. We’ve seen bits and pieces of Jane’s past, and now we see how it all plays into this storyline of how her past is coming back to haunt her. Jane is a woman who fiercely loves and cares deeply for those who are close to her heart, but even to those who cannot fight for themselves, or are in deep trouble. That was made so beautifully highlighted in 2x18. That’s what makes her an incredible boss, an incredible leader, and most importantly, a wonderful friend. Has your boss ever invited you to their office for a drink? Let alone to their own home with an open door policy? Has your boss risked their life to rescue not just themselves but others who are wounded and are in desperate need of medical attention, all the meanwhile being badly injured themselves? Jane’s life revolves around family and caring for others because it’s something she was deprived of as a child. Her mother was not around. She did not have siblings. She had a loving father, but with him being in the military, she would have had to move from base to base. Her childhood would not have been steady. Friends would have come and gone. Her entire life was on the go. She’s had to fend for herself growing up. She’s had to stand up for herself. Jane Tennant is a woman who is deeply informed and shaped by her experience and leverages that to be the person she needed as a child to those around her. It’s what has made her an extraordinary SAC. But Jane also isn’t perfect. She has flaws, and they’re making themselves known in this finale.

So now, despite Jane being the Special Agent in Charge of the Entire Pacific Rim™, she also has a past. We can’t ignore that. Jane Tennant has a past. And it’s a CIA past. And from the sound of it, it’s a past she’s not particularly proud or fond of. We can see that Jane’s CIA past has deeply affected her, as it should. You’ve all seen (in some shape or form, fictional or non fictional) the extent of what the CIA is, what it represents, the shadiness and the dark side of how it operates, and what its people are capable of. We know the toxic culture of secrets, lies, deadly surprises and betrayal that can follow with being involved with the CIA. Jane has been involved with all of that. And she is still, unfortunately, involved with that despite having switched agencies and careers. She no longer is a covert CIA operative, she is the SAC of the NCIS Hawaii office. But that doesn’t mean she won’t slip back into covert CIA operative mode the moment she finds out she’s in danger. Like everyone else, Jane has a fight or flight response... She just happens to do both. So what does this mean?

Well, if Jane is in danger and it involves her extremely dangerous, shady CIA past, everyone in her life will inadvertently be in danger as well. Why else would Ernie call Jane out that she was being shady? She doesn’t really have a choice. She’s played the intelligence game long enough to know that secrets, information, and data can get people killed. The people she’s dealt with are extremely dangerous, and if they get the slightest idea of who is important to Jane, they will stop at nothing to eliminate those around her to hurt her. To torture her. Can you imagine the weight of that? Knowing that your past has put your kids at risk for being targets? Your closest friends, your colleagues - your family? Hell, I’d be shady too. Jane is incredibly smart. She knows the loopholes, she knows what angles to play. She knows the risks she has to take. She has been through it and knows exactly how to manipulate and play the system. That’s what makes her such a polar opposite to the character Kate Whistler is. 

Okay, enter Kate. Because I know what you’re all thinking. What was the point of reinforcing the family theme with Kate with the amount of Jane/Kate interactions we’ve had all season only for Jane to use her to get into the bank in Venezuela and then handcuff her to a column in a kitchen, basically leaving her to dry? What was the point of all of this if Jane going rogue anyway is going to put everyone in danger? Wouldn’t Kate be pissed as hell for Jane getting her into this mess, risking her career, putting her in danger, etc etc etc? Well, I’m glad you didn’t ask, because I’m still going to tell you anyway. 

Short answer, Kate didn’t see it like that. Long answer, Kate Whistler isn’t a chump and is a foil to Jane Tennant’s character. Aka, Whistler is everything that Jane is not, and yet, is everything that Jane needs. I’m not saying Whistler is an antagonist (maybe it seemed like she was in the first season, but we’ve seen how she’s grown since then - keep this thought tucked away in the back of your minds for later). But why else would they have introduced Whistler the way they did in the pilot, if they weren’t going to use her to balance Jane out? And vice versa? Why else have they spent so much time developing Whistler’s character, despite her being an agency-adjacent character (AKA, a non-NCIS character on an NCIS show)? Why have they spent so much time writing scenes and moments between the two women and developing that friendship? One, it’s because they’re establishing Whistler to be just as an important part of the NCIS team despite her being interagency, and two, it’s because Jane and Kate both need each other. And most importantly, they trust each other. Keep this thought pinned. Trust. Whistler looks up to Jane, despite her sticky way of operating. And Jane looks up to Whistler because of how brilliant she is. How unlike Whistler is to herself. Jane recognizes that Whistler is someone she needs in her corner; not because she has malicious intents of using Whistler for what she can do, who/what she knows, and what she’s capable of, but because Whistler is just wired differently, and she needs that - dare I say, craves that. Jane has spent so much of her life depending on and trusting people like Maggie who are like her, only for people like Maggie to betray her in the end. She knows that Whistler will never do that, because she knows what Whistler is driven by (protecting the intel/secrets/data to the highest degree, etc.) Whistler knows, understands, and can play the intelligence game just as well as Jane can, and Jane sees how much of a breath of fresh air she is. And for Whistler, despite Jane’s way of not doing things by the book, it’s yielded results. Jane’s methods have worked, and that’s what Whistler has seen and understands of Jane and who she is as a leader. She sees and appreciates Jane’s ideology as a leader, reminding her of the kind of person, perhaps one day, the leader (ASAC, SAC) she wants to become.

And that’s why she’d listen to Jane in going to Venezuela.

Okay, let’s back it up a bit. Jane’s methods have worked.

... But they don’t always do.

Alas, the moment you’ve all been waiting for - Jane’s habits of slipping back into a covert, secretive, protective and shady operative, is not working. Jane going rogue is not working.

And yes, it puts others in danger. It puts herself in an immense amount of danger. 

Okay, so that part was obvious, so what am I getting at? Once again, I’m glad you didn’t ask (because I did, for you), so here we go.

As we can see in next week’s promo, Jane is kidnapped, and is being tortured by Adrian Creel, a dangerous person from her past. Not only that, but is someone who she thought was dead. Both her past and present worlds are colliding, and she’s now scrambling to do damage control. So she goes rogue. We have to remember that Jane is highly intelligent, calculated, and cunning. That combination of words is absolutely fucking terrifying if used for harm instead of good. But that’s not who Jane is. And we saw that in a flashback.

This is what sets Jane apart from the person that Maggie Shaw is. Maggie is a textbook CIA operative. She has little regard for those who cross her and will do whatever it takes to get a job done. Spies are trained to not get attached to others. To push aside their emotions and feelings. And despite Maggie having a soft spot for Jane and becoming a mentor/mother figure to her (which makes her betrayal so deeply wounding to Jane not having a mother of her own in the picture), Maggie and Jane are fundamentally different people. One sees people as assets, assignments, collateral, or worse - collateral damage. The other sees people as human beings. One is completely unaffected by betrayal. The other is deeply affected. One is unfazed by death. The other is. You catching my drift?

Jane’s CIA experience has shown her how terrible the world of espionage can be. How messy, interwoven, terrible, and haunting it can be. Right now, it’s haunting her, and coming back to bite her in the ass. So what do you do when your past is coming back for you in the present? You pull every stop necessary to protect those you care about the most. To protect your family, the people you’d easily lay your life down for. Jane is not the kind of person that would intentionally get others she cares about into messes, nor is she the kind of person that gets people into messes that she herself wouldn’t be able to pull them out from. These are calculated risks Jane is taking. It’s not that she doesn’t know or think that her actions won’t cause problems for herself or others later on, she absolutely knows and understands the weight of every outcome and every choice she has to make. She wouldn’t put her team or colleagues in more danger than they need to be. Please understand this language. She can’t protect them from everything that could possibly happen, but if she has the smallest chance of controlling what she can control, then she’ll put herself on the line first. So she’ll make the choices that have the least collateral damage. She voluntarily pulls herself off the case from NCIS to protect her team. She would rather risk herself getting fired or killed before there’s a slightest chance of danger coming towards her team. She reaches out to Whistler, not because she doesn’t care about Whistler as much as she does with her own team or doesn’t care about her enough to not put her in harm’s way, but because Whistler is the only person she can trust right now (and that’s a massive thing for Jane after being betrayed by the one person she thought she’d never, ever get betrayed by). Jane knows that Whistler is absolutely vital in ensuring that whoever is after her, will never be able to reach Whistler, her team, or her kids. Her team can’t do that (lead her to Venezuela) for her. In a weird way, Jane knows that she cannot do parts of her mission alone, but she also recognizes that she cares too much about Whistler to fully let her accompany her in a mission that she knows that she may not come back from alive. This is the grey area of the espionage game that Jane is playing. Jane going rogue and the espionage world is not black and white. Things just aren’t that easy. And it’s baffling that so many people think “well if Jane would have just been honest and let her team help her they wouldn’t be in danger.” It literally doesn’t work like that. Why else would they continue to highlight the stickiness of Jane’s CIA past? Why even highlight the CIA at all? Simple: to show how drastically different NCIS is, how NCIS operates, but also how much Jane has changed since getting out of the spy game, and how much she’s affected the people around her because of the person she is. It’s not that she’s gone rogue and isn’t letting people in and is putting everyone in danger like everyone sees it to be, but she’s trying to keep everyone safe from how deep and messy things are when they’re not taken care of (i.e. “I made a mistake and I need to fix it”), and how much of a splintering effect it can have if not dealt with the way things need to be dealt with (and I mean “dealt with” in the CIA terms of killing someone). For Jane, Creel cannot know that Whistler helped her get close to him (despite her not knowing Creel was alive this entire time, just that someone has impersonated her and has emptied out the account). Creel cannot know that Jane has kids. Creel cannot know that she is in charge of multiple offices full of NCIS Agents and American government personnel. Creel cannot know anything. The stakes are so fucking high.

Jane is involved in a war that has now involved death, and will continue to do so. And she’d rather it be Creel’s, or hers. What if Jane had allowed for Whistler to accompany her to the house of her impostor in the name of not keeping Whistler in the dark? What if Whistler had been the one that was shot instead of Charlie-1 because none of them had vests on? Or conversely, what if Whistler had been kidnapped along Jane and had been the one getting tortured by Creel in retaliation of what happened to him?

Jane would never forgive herself if harm (or death) came Whistler’s way. So handcuffing Whistler to the column was genuinely to protect her. Not because she’s an ungrateful asshole who just uses Whistler for access or that she doesn’t trust in Whistler’s ability to handle herself in the field or that Whistler wouldn’t have her back, but because Jane knows the violent outcome of what this will be. And she’ll do everything in her power to avoid Whistler (or anyone else in her life that is important to her) to become collateral damage or fall victim to her dangerous past. It’s not that Whistler is a rookie that Jane can’t trust to have her back in the field; it’s that Jane can’t afford for harm to come her friend’s way: for Whistler to get injured, tortured, or die on her account. Jane can’t afford her closest friend to fall victim to something they will never come back from. It’s not perfect, it’s messy, but it’s Jane’s way of keeping her safe. Once again, Jane is built like a spy. Secrets and lies and shiftiness is unfortunately, a part of her DNA. But she also isn’t a heartless, unemotional, ghost of a shell. She cares so deeply for the ones she loves, and it motivates her to do the things she needs to do to keep them as far away from imminent danger as possible.

Okay, now back to Whistler. (I told you it was long)

I think what was greatly overlooked was Whistler’s reaction. She wasn’t angry, hurt, or betrayed by Jane cuffing her to the column. Frustrated, yes, but Kate immediately recognized the gravity of the situation that Jane is in, and once again, worries for her friend diving headfirst into danger. Kate doesn’t yell at Jane, she calls out her name because she fears for her friend’s life. Listen to the tone of their exchange closely. It’s not one that’s done in anger or rage. Both of them know how dangerous this has become. Again, Kate isn’t a poor chump that walked into Jane’s mess. Whistler understood what Jane has asked of her to risk. She didn’t like it, but she also can’t stand around and do nothing while her friend is in danger. Of course she’s going to help. Whistler understands immediately what Jane has walked back into. Whistler knows exactly who Jane is from her time in the DIA. I have no doubt in the back of my mind that she’s run extensive background checks on Tennant and the team while she was at the DIA because of how much of a liability the NCIS team was with the DIA (hence, her having to liaise and almost babysit them in terms of data sharing and collection.) Whistler has seen Jane’s dossier, and she’s probably studied the woman’s profile like she would’ve studied material from grad school or studied a profile on a terrorist. That’s what made Jane Tennant the bane of her existence, but it’s also what fascinates her the most: how unlike Jane is for someone that has worked for the CIA. That Jane puts others first, treats her team like they’re her family, and fiercely cares for them. This baffles Whistler to the core, because she’s worked with CIA/NSA/DEA/all government acronyms type personnel. She’s worked with spies. She’s interrogated terrorists and traitors. She knows the formula of what makes a covert operative. Jane has been everything but that. And on top of that, Whistler has worked with upper brass. She’s worked with bosses, admirals, generals, commanders, ASAC’s and SAC’s. She’s worked with people who don’t care about you unless you have impressive accolades and accomplishments that are worth listening to. So for her to cross paths with SAC Tennant... It drastically changes the way that she sees world; the people that she works with, has worked with, and it changes the way she approaches things. Whistler is a type-A personality; likes to plan ahead, likes to know exactly what is going on; every detail, and overarching piece. DIA Whistler would never have allowed for this to happen - in fact, she probably would’ve been the one to inform the brass about what was going on and would immediately have Tennant arrested for treason. But Kate Whistler, friend of Jane Tennant sees that her friend is in need of her help, and that’s what informs her decision to help Jane and go to Venezuela, despite her not actually knowing what the outcome of this entire thing will be. Despite the high risk she’s taking. Despite the fact she could very well lose her job over this if things go south. Despite seeing how much her friend has shifted back into fight or flight CIA mode. Whistler realizes how much danger Jane is in. So no, she’s not angry. 

But she sure as hell isn’t going to sit around and do nothing either. 

This is where things get real juicy, because once again, DIA Whistler would never. But FBI Whistler has spent enough time around Jane Tennant to know the kind of person she is and her value of others, that people are the priority. And when people are in danger, she will stop at nothing to come to their aid. This entire season has highlighted Whistler coming to Tennant’s rescue in sticky situations (2x08, 2x11, 2x18) and some being situations she didn’t particularly like, but have followed her and/or sent aid, or has gone to rescue Jane herself. And so far, the finale has been the culmination of that. Not because Whistler’s a pawn in Jane’s game, but because of the incredible growth that has transpired in Whistler’s character to become someone who will take risks for others, despite every ounce of her being saying otherwise. To play things safe, by the book. Whistler’s unlearning her patterns and habits of going by the book, being a stickler for the rules, because not everything in life will happen by the book. Having a relationship with someone you work with isn’t in the book. Having a drink with your co-worker at her home after having a 50-cal gun aimed and shot at you by a Yakuza member isn’t in the book. Your friend having a dangerous CIA past isn’t in the book. Not everything is in the book. Whistler is starting to see that. Whistler could’ve easily packed her shit up and angrily gone home. But she stays to go after Jane to try and rescue her. Because that’s who Whistler is.

So, finally, what’s the point of all this again?

Ah, yes. The Tennant-Whistler relationship and how it will be affected by all of this. (Oh, yes, sorry. I forgot to mention this is actually the thesis. I just hoped you would entertain my thoughts long enough and read this far, so if you did congrats. But also, I’m sorry.)

There’s a few articles out there already teasing how this will affect the team in the future - how Jane’s secrets and past will affect everyone, and immediately, how this whole “come with me to Venezuela and help me but also I’m going to handcuff you in the kitchen to keep you safe even though I might die” discourse will affect Jane and Kate’s relationship moving forward. Because on the surface, Tennant asking Whistler for this massive favour feels incredibly transactional and one sided. But if you’ve been watching the same show as everyone else has, this wouldn’t have happened if their relationship wasn’t built slowly on trust. The Whistler we see now isn’t the same Whistler that was introduced to us. The Whistler that helps Jane in Venezuela is a Whistler who, like Jane, is being formed by her experiences, which informs the decisions she makes. The Whistler we see now is someone who would lay their life down for their friend because she knows that Jane would do the same for her. The Tennant-Whistler relationship, aside from the romantic Kacy relationship, has pretty much been the forefront of this season. The tension/disagreements, the favours, the seeking out wisdom and advice, comfort & encouragement, coming to each other’s (mostly Kate coming to Jane’s) rescue. If I may be so bold to say, I actually don’t think this will affect the others as much as it will affect Jane and the choices she’s made. It’s very Jane-centric. It will be Jane-centric in the way it shapes her as a boss, a leader, and a friend. Everyone else is very secure in who they are, in their ability, and who they’re working for. It’s Jane that needs to see that she cannot continue acting on the lone wolf mentality. I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t say that I think this is still very much building into NCIS Hawaii’s overarching theme of family but also how this now could be flipped on its head in later seasons as we explore more of the other characters and their pasts. But like I mentioned earlier, Jane has a past. But so does everyone else. And they needed to establish Jane’s character, all her strengths as well as her flaws, in order for people to see why she goes the absolute lengths that she does to protect who she loves (I’m still so convinced that Whistler’s DIA past and involvement in various top-secret assignments and the many people/contacts she has everywhere will also come back to haunt her in the future and when that time comes, Jane will 110% return the favour Whistler has constantly been doing for her by coming to her rescue this entire season but that’s a theory for another day), but also why the people she loves will also do the same for her (Jesse’s line in the promo, “I’d put my life on the line for you”, and Whistler coming to her rescue literally 4x this season). Jane wouldn’t abuse that. We know that Jane is going to be fine, but in light of these revelations, Jane is going to have to make some major changes regarding the way she operates as a person as a result of what happens from this entire situation. We already know that the season will conclude in its trademark ohana-esque manner (thank you promo pics), but it’s not to say that this won’t cause tension in the future. Family is messy. I can’t stress this enough. But all of them are mature enough to understand that what Jane was doing, was ultimately to protect them all. Even Alex understood the gravity of the situation. They might not like it, but they understand. And that’s an important word - the understanding. They will come to the realization that the damage control Jane was doing was very much for their safety, despite how in the dark they all felt. It’s not invitation for them to be petty, bitter, or angry with Jane. When they find out that Charlie-1 is dead and that Jane was kidnapped and tortured, they’ll see just how dangerous her past life is, and why Jane did what she had to do. Because getting shot or being kidnapped or tortured could have easily been one or more of them, had Jane not played her cards right.

Back to the Tennant-Whistler dynamic. I think Whistler and Tennant are going to continue to have their moments, but I think the establishment of this dynamic (over, say, Jane’s dynamic with Kai, Lucy, Jesse, or Ernie) has been so vital this season, a) because it shows not only how much trust has been built between the two, but how fundamentally different their dynamic will be moving forward from how Jane and Maggie’s relationship was, b) how Kate has never really had a friendship or relationship with someone like Jane ever, and aside from her own relationship with Lucy, and how much Kate also needs Jane as a figure in her life. Both women have been able to lean on each other for support and both women recognize how much they need each other. They see each other as equals; they are each other’s professional/career match (and I will die on this hill despite Kate being significantly younger than Jane, but I think Kate’s career has invited her to tables that people her age would never normally be invited to, but because of her intelligence, high capacity and ability to see things quickly and put things together has placed her higher up quicker than anyone else) and c) the theme of Whistler coming to Jane’s rescue this season will eventually come to a reversal where Whistler will find herself in trouble and will be needing Jane’s support or even rescue, and Jane will be there for her. They’ve hinted at how equally dangerous Whistler’s job is this season. They’ve hinted at Whistler being in the field more, gaining more experience. They’ve hinted Whistler leading teams, working with CI’s, setting up sting operations and leading join efforts in busts. They’ve hinted at the kind of criminals she deals with (serial killers, terrorists, assassins, etc.) This undoubtedly is going to come into play in the future.

Jane values family over everything else. But she also realizes that she can’t just use them when she needs something. She’s going to have to learn how to let her family in, and she’s going to learn that family isn’t transactional, but unconditional. And I think that’s the angle they’re going to play in the latter half of this finale, as well as building into future seasons. The lone-wolf thing will never work. We’ve seen it with Kai in the pilot. We’ve seen it with Lucy (especially in 2x19). It’s not going to work for Jane either. I mentioned earlier, Jane is not perfect. Nobody is. She’s going to have to unlearn things from her past, and she’s going to have to work towards letting people in. She’s going to have to learn to take her own advice. Yes, she’s been badly burned, and being in the espionage game has traumatized her. She’s got literal scars and experiences to show for it. But the beautiful thing is that she has a family surrounding her that will be with her every step of the way - she just has to let them be there for her the same way she’d be there for them in a heartbeat. Yes, this can be so hard to do when you’ve lived on your own and had to fight for yourself for so long, but NCIS Hawaii wouldn’t be NCIS hawaii without these incredibly important themes and arcs, and I’m thankful they’re exploring this with Jane. We’ve gotten a taste of how fiercely protective Jane is with her team and family. When a situation in the future calls for her to step into action, she absolutely will lay her life on the life for her colleagues and team the same way they would for her. I think Jesse’s line to Tennant will be the turning point for her, and she’ll do better moving forward. They needed to do this in order to set up the future story arcs for others in future seasons. Family is messy. But we’re all in it for the ride, and so are they. 

I've been thinking about War of the Robins, aka 'Damian challenges the other Robins to prove he's the Best Robin' storyline from Batman and Robin 2011, and what I think worked about it in terms of characterisation. (look I'm reading New 52, you get to hear lots of my ten plus years out of date thoughts about New 52, enjoy)

Because look, I think it was successful in presenting how desperate for approval and validation Damian is, but it also feeds into the narrative you can see percolating during this time that Damian can't cope with just being one of the family, he has to be the best, have the most love and approval, have physical demonstrations of his superiority, because he's grown up understanding being one of the group to be a death sentence. (Dick has to be his Batman, and Damian Dick's Robin, he needs the writers giving him reassurance that they were 'the best' right before he dies, the new timeline cuts off any other occasions Dick was Batman, Damian gets given extra pets right before he dies as a sop for his death, etc etc)

Which is believable characterisation for Damian! It is understandable given the background they're building for him! But also sharply aggravating because nobody has ever accused fans of being reasonable and this just digs people into being more deeply opposed to the character their favourite is in conflict with.

So he 'challenges' Tim and Jason 'at something you feel unbeatable at' in a way that sharply exploits emotions they're sensitive about.

Damian...shows Tim a video of Tim considering killing and pulling back, and implies that that makes Tim a killer just like Damian and "they're the same". Now I think this one is actually pretty weak - while yes it's exploiting a point Tim's sensitive over (and in our world has dealt with twice in the calendar year prior to this story), it's also something Tim's pretty solid on; Tim knows he's not a killer and will pull back, while he's seen Damian kill. I also think that a Damian who's working to be a better person would not refer to the Spook situation as "a bit rambunctious", rather than it being something he regrets and tries to grow from. It does amuse me that Tim gets to smash Damian into Jason's trophy case however this time for the parallel, though being the one who breaks the case generally is framed to make you the one 'in the wrong' in the confrontation. Also as far as I can tell Damian never takes a physical trophy from this fight, which sort of ruins your whole premise, Damian. NB: I see Damian has Tim's bo in his room later, but Tim clearly ended the fight holding it and then left. There's definitely an art issue here.

Jason's fight is even more exploitation of a known weakness. Jason's got every right to be touchy about someone threatening him with a crowbar. Also I really really dislike that Damian's just freely admitting to the time he locked himself in with the Joker to beat him up at GCPD, because honestly that bit of story and its timing has always seemed to contradict the 'he's getting better' narrative that Dick maintains during Reborn. And again the whole conversation is "we're so alike but nobody loves you". At least this time Damian clearly takes his trophy (which is a helmet, which is still displayed in Damian's room during scenes there in the B&R Requiem issue).

Dick showing up at the end to explain to Damian that he doesn't need to try so hard prove his worth and just handing over an escrima stick - look it's sweet and it does impart the moral that Damian needed to learn over this whole situation. But also it does not really help, as it's just deepened the family fault-lines between Dick & Damian as a pair and *sigh* Jason & Tim.

The other thing I get out of it is whether it's just bravado or not, Damian's a lot more comfortable with his childhood violence continuing to come out rather than working to fit the rules of what makes a Robin and a superhero than people want to say he is. Yes, he needs unconditional love and support to grow and learn, and Dick's being used to provide that. But it's also occasion 3000 when I'm sitting here going "is anyone ever going to give Damian actual boundaries and enforce them when he tests them?" because he's once again well outside what is expected. Bruce tries at the start to defuse the argument, and Dick tries at the end to explain why Damian didn't need to do this, he's already won, but I do wonder how much of it sunk in.

As for the RoyKeeley reunion part of my KJPR/Keeley arc discussion (here)...I've processed more and landed on the reason I didn't love it, and it's not because I don't believe Roy has done the work or fixed his side of many of the problems that contributed to the end of their relationship. Not because I don't think he's finally at a place to accept joy and happiness into his life. We've seen that growth in him throughout the season, in his relationship with Jamie especially, but also with him processing the end to his time at Chelsea, with Trent, the Rebecca scene last week, Isaac, the final epiphany moment this episode with the teacher...It's all been there, it's been gradual, and I believe in it without hesitation.

I didn't like that they threw RoyKeeley back together** because it doesn't make sense for Keeley. It doesn't help or allow her character to grow at all. I think a lot of the fandom is happy to believe the breakup was all Roy, and his self-confidence issues, and his unwillingness to allow himself to have good things' fault. For me, it's always been more than that. Keeley has a lot of self confidence issues herself that the show constantly sweeps under the rug; and having Roy tell her she's still Keeley fucking Jones is not the magical fix all to it, either. I know this absolutely isn't the show's intention, but it kind of does read to me like they're stamping a relationship with Roy back on her like a bandaid and calling her a healed case, and I hate that.

Let's not forget that just LAST EPISODE, Keeley was sending Jack a wall of desperate blue texts all but begging Jack to take her back! Not even that, just to talk to her! To acknowledge her at all!! She was begging this woman who treated her like crap, from a relationship that was detrimental to her mental health and wellbeing, to please accept her!!

The reality is, we have:

Keeley breaking up with Jamie in season one, regretting it the very next morning because as she herself proclaims, she always second-guesses her relationships ending, and then getting together with Roy not long after.

Roy breaking up with her, and her getting together with Jack not long after, notably right after proclaiming she isn't over Roy and is also reevaluating her prior breakup with her other ex, Jamie

Jack breaking up with her, Keeley trying to still fix it between them, then....getting back together with Roy not long after that

Like, no wonder the RoyKeeley reunion fell flat. Look, I haven't been in the "why won't the writers ever just let Keeley be single!" camp all season, but it's partly because I assumed they were trying to tell us a clear narrative about her. There is an undeniable pattern of behavior they've set up here that points to certain aspects of her character: Keeley struggles with abandonment issues, Keeley struggles with being alone, Keeley struggles with feeling good enough for people and leans on external validation, she has been known to act rashly when it comes to her relationships, etc. If the goal was just to get RoyKeeley back together as quickly as possible, well, they succeeded at the cost of throwing Keeley's character development out the window, because none of these problems have actually been addressed. And if they weren't going to address them, why were they not only introduced but also reiterated across multiple seasons?

**And yes, I say "throwing Roy and Keeley back together" without taking into account what they might do with the last two episodes. Was this a "getting back together" moment in the sense of now RoyKeeley is endgame, back in a committed relationship, their problems won't be addressed again or addressed only minimally, and they will now ride off into the sunset happily ever after? Or was it more like, there's still a ton of love there, Roy made a deeply important breakthrough with his apology, they had their long awaited and much needed post-breakup sex, and now Keeley is going to realize she's slipping back into familiar patterns and roll things back? And to be fair, we don't know yet!

What I want is something like Roy acting like things are now great and Keeley's obviously his girlfriend again, only for Keeley to stop him and be like "Wait, Roy, but this hasn't magically fixed everything." I do want Keeley to be single for a while and deal with her own stuff. I want them to work at it, together, perhaps with the expectation that yes they will probably get back together in future but not right now, not when they still have a ways to go with themselves as individuals. If the show goes in the second direction, it scraps this whole post for me, but with two episodes left of the series, this is coming from the part of me that is very concerned they're heading towards the former.

afo is now your character. congratulations. what are you going to do with him?

well firstly he's going to be in that waistcoat he was wearing at the start of this last battle all the time and we are getting full frontal with it. no more being partially obscured or in the distance or seen only at weird angles. he will be the fashion.

anyways there would be two options. either he gets a graceful exit after kamino and his jailbird arc where he still gets to be a powerful and savvy villain who passes his legacy onto shigaraki and lets him do what he wants without any complaint. the way it could have been in a kind world. keep him in the story long enough to make an impact, but not so long that the story needs break itself bending over backwards ensure the audience knows how evil and wicked he is even though that was already well fucking established. what a beautiful world that could have been.

but if i was compelled to keep him in the story longer then i'd incorporate him better into the themes of societal-level failures → embittered selfish villains → further societal neglect etc etc tragic past kind of bullshit that i argued for here, and also what @codenamesazanka talked about here with afo with how he could still fit into the story's faltering representation of civilians, afo's desperation to be known and remembered, and how shigaraki can play into it. i KNOOOOOOOOOOWWWWW afo only exists to be a generic big bad but i cannot lie that the thought of giving big bads some measure of emotional complexity gives me a thrill. love it when pure evil is vulnerable i shan't say.

but honestly i gotta be real. i think if afo was mine he would be like a very tormented barbie to me. i put him in outfits and throw him into situations. i want every thing he sticks his greedy little fingers in to turn into really messy morally disappointing gay melodramas. he absolutely tries to seduce his pseudo-foster kid's situationship because he's a magnet for problems. he is a pop girlie. he listens to ayesha erotica. he is a parody of a big bad to me.

but also ummmmmm i shan't say too much about what i would do with him if he was mine. in case things in the wip idea pile. grow.

Dkbk | Collage AU | No quirks au | TW // Weight Gain | Model AU

Thinkig about struggling college student bakugou,who desperately needs money for rent,bills and his college tuition,he looked through many different jobs advertisements but none them pays that well.

One day he stumbles upon a job offer for plus size models,it pays very well,even more than he needs but there is one tiny little problem…he is slim,in fact even pretty muscular since he does work out regularly.So he throws that idea away,but it's still on his mind even days later,so he decided „fuck it” and gain some weight to become the best plus size model the world has ever seen!

And It’s way more important to him to make money rather than counting to live in this crapy apartment and constantly deny himself every little thing! + if college life taught him anything useful it is were to get a lot of good and cheap food so gaining some weight will be an easy task!

So bakugou begins his plan,he starts eating all of kinds of food,sweet,sour,salty,sweet and salty,sour and sweet etc.

He is almost constantly eating or drinking something,no so secretly enjoying himself,since before he was avoiding fast food or any kind of snacks,now he buys and eats whatever catches his eye,he also ditched his workout almost completely,beside doing some yoga here and there.

So after only few weeks bakugou was already starting to get noticeably chubby,he didn’t expect to gain weight so easily and fast,which before he probably would have hate,but now it’s literally a blessing! his face had noticeably got rounded,his arms got softer,his ass got bigger,but most importantly his stomach got bigger and softer than he expected to be by only few weeks of gaining weight,it was becoming noticeably bigger and bigger by each passing day of which bakugou was very proud of!

After only few months he was almost unrecognizable,his face was puffier and rounder,his arms were big and soft,his ass was bigger too and it was also nicely shaped from all the yoga he was doing,his legs were bigger and shaped very nicely as well,but most importantly he had a gut! it was big,soft and perfectly round,and bakugou very much enjoyed showing it off by wearing fitted t-shirts,shirts that were one or two sizes smaller than what he „should” be wearing,and he looked fantastic in it! he knew how to dress himself and he didn’t hide it,not that he wanted to.

Bakugou didn’t feel this good and confident since he moved out for college to this cheap ass apartment,yes he could ask his parents for money but he wanted to be independent for so long! he doesn’t need their money! he will be perfectly fine by himself,thank you very much!

Anyways,since he achieved his goal,he had applied for a job as a model,bakugou was a bit nervous (not that he ever admitted to it…) that he won’t get a job and all of this will be pointless…not that he hate it his new look/weight,he absolutely love it! and he ditched the idea of losing weight about 55 pounds ago or so,he was absolutely going to stay as he is now but still he would be a bit disappointed…

Luckily he did get a job!!!

And that’s how Bakugou started his long career as a model! he quickly become very popular and successful,he was known as-„Dynamight” ,but no one knew how he exactly looked like,since all of the photos were and are taken from the neck down,he honestly prefers it this way,it gives him some privacy and he doesn’t have to deal with paparazzi’s and fans all the time,he also moved in to a much better,bigger and expensive apartment.

Bakugou was living his best life! enjoying his job,doing amazing in college,eating all sorts of delicious food that he couldn’t afford before,buying clothes that he wanted for a long time and creating amazing looks with them,showing his looks off in public or on his social media for his fans to see and praise him for,buying merchandise and figures of his favorite childhood superhero from a popular cartoon-All might

The life could not be better for Katsuki Bakugou!

Till one day he got an job opportunity to do a photoshoot with a famous fashion model-Deku,apparently he caught the model’s eye,and he is dreaming of working with him! and it’s very well paid!

So he gladly agrees to the offer,but little does he knows that this the beginning of his hot and passionate romance (and in the future marriage) with the world’s famous model/sweetheart-Izuku „Deku” Midoriya

𝙨𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨: meet the kang family and their dynamics

areum is more of yumi's mom than her own mother.

grandma areum basically raised yumi and her brother as her mother worked nightshifts at the hospital.

her mom got home at 6-7 AM, heading straight to sleep while yumi & her brother woke up at 7 to make it to school on time. because of this, her grandma was the one who woke them up, made breakfast and got them all ready for school.

her grandma basically took the role of her mother.

when yumi moved to seoul because of her training, she begged her grandma to move with her as she wasn't supposed to move away with them. and fortunately for her, her grandma moved with her.

yumi sees grandma areum as her mom as she's never had that special connection with her actual mom.

her grandma was and still is her confident, whenever yuyu ran into problems she would go to her grandma for help. and being the wise woman she is, she gave her the best advice.

areum made sure yumi's desires were always made reality, even if it went against her mom's whishes.

for example, yujun (yumi's brother) had always been interested in cars and motorcycles. Yumi being the little sister she was, she wanted to be like her big brother and so badly wanted to go to races. her mom was not in favor of that, saying that it was a boy's thing and that girl's things were modeling, dancing, etc.

but, areum saw how disappointed her granddaughter was and decided to take her to these races behind her mom's back.

Yumi is eternally grateful with her grandma because if she didn't bring her to those yumi would have never found out her passion for cars and motorcycles.

Yumi loves her grandmother very much and always tries to visit her in between schedules.

she's taken her members with her when visiting her grandma and she absolutely adores them.

now whenever yumi's grandma calls her, she asks how the members are doing.

the members lovingly call her enha-grandma.

oh boy, where do we even start with them.

for context, arin had yumi at the young age of 22 ( having her brother when she was barely 18 ). her father was never in the picture, leaving when he found out his girlfriend was pregnant.

his excuse? he was only willing to stay for one kid. he told arin he would only stay if she gave up yumi to which she said no after much convincing from her mother.

but him leaving was honestly for the best, as his and arin's relationship was very turbulent and toxic. they would fight almost daily and it would sometimes be so bad that areum had to get involved to de-escalate the situation.

because of her work, yumi barely saw her mother. this strained their relationship from the very start.

added to this, arin always had felt resentment towards her daughter since, in her eyes, yumi was the reason her boyfriend left. as time passed, she also grew resentful of her son.

this resulted in arin always acting cold, stoic and even hostile towards her daughter.

because of this, yumi had always looked of the approval and love from her mother. she was always seen doing little crafts and favors for her mother. she just wanted her mother to acknowledge her.

when yumi was 5, she got noticed by a well-known clothing brand. they offered a lot of money to have yumi model a toddler clothing line they had just launched, being blinded by the money, arin agreed.

after being a model for that brand, she was noticed by a modeling agency and they quickly tried to sign the toddler. yet again, blinded by the money and not thinking about the repercussions that modeling at a young age could bring, arin accepted.

it was only then, that arin started to treat yumi less coldly. arin saw her as the thing that could bring her the money she desperately needed.

being desperate for money, arin started to control what yumi ate and make her go on extreme diets for her age, just to please the modeling company and be what they thought "would sell".

this affected yumi very badly and caused her to have an unhealthy relationship with food. she still suffers with this.

apart from this, arin was very restrictive with her daughter. she'd never let yumi play with her brothers cars or action figures as a child. she said they're “boys things” and that she should stick with modeling and dancing ( which both were very imposed onto her ).

as yumi grew older, she noticed how toxic her mother was and started to pull back from her. she realized that she would never be enough for her and that her mother only saw her as a source of cash.

she knew that if she still was in contact with her mother, her mental health would deplete and she would go back to the dark place she was her entire childhood. so, when she moved in with enhypen, she took the opportunity and went little to no contact with her mother.

and arin didn't bat an eye, she didn't even notice how her child didn't contact her. with the money yumi brought to the table after all those years of modeling, arin was able to quit her nursing job and start a small jewelry store. said store slowly but surely started to grow and it's a well-known store now in seoul.

her mother will only call to give her backhanded compliments and ask for money whenever the store goes on a low.

yumi has tried to deny her the money multiple times but her mother always manipulates her into it.

the members know some of this ( only way yumi has told them so far ) and they always make sure that her mother's calls are hung up. they know how arin made yumi's life miserable and don't want any of it to come back.

omg these two are literally inseparable.

even before yumi was born, yujun would be stuck at the hip with his mother as he tried to hear her sister in her belly.

when his sister was born, yujun was ecstatic. he was the first one to see her at the hospital and instantly wanted to hold her.

as they grew older, they became even more close. they bonded over their mother's coldness towards them ( yujun was also a victim of this. arin only saw him as the star athlete of the family, bringing her attention for being his mother. )

when older ( between the ages of 5/6 & 8/9 ) they started to develop a tom & jerry type of relationship. they would tease each other to no end and even prank one another.

they enjoyed spending time together like that, even if it was unusual.

yujun was always yumi's bodyguard. at school everyone knew that if you messed with yumi, you'd be messing with her older brother.

since he was always the tallest of his class, he had that intimidating factor and would scare away any kids that would make fun of yumi. he'd also scare away any of yumi's crushes because of this lmao.

speaking of crushes, they'd literally make each other's life's so difficult whenever they knew they liked somebody.

once, yujun told the boy yumi was currently talking to that if he ver hurt his sister he'd make him disappear. safe to say, that boy never spoke to yumi again. in retaliation, yumi told the girl yujun was interested in that he was talking to five other girls.

that made them so mad at each other that they didn't speak with one another for almost three weeks.

yumi is his number one one supporter at his volleyball games. she always makes time for them, even if her schedule is packed. even if he doesn't say it, yujun appreciates it so much.

but don't be fooled, he will always go to the first show of her comebacks. he is always spotted in the crowd of at least one of the groups shows each comeback.

yujun was also the main defender of yumi with their mother. whenever he noticed arin was being rude towards his sister he would quickly shut it down. he never ever let their mother speak down to his sister.

he also sneaked her out of the house to go see street car races ( he had his contacts ). she would always smile so brightly when she got the chance to see it.

the members have met him a couple of times and really like him. yujun has also told them that if they do anything to hurt yuyu that he'd actually kill them. they were very intimidated by him at the start because of this.

even though they bicker and annoy each other, they'd literally kill for each other.

taglist ( open ): @seolboba, @flowerjun, @lost-leopard-beanie, @itszeni

For the Unusual NSFW asks:

(Answer to you own comfortability!)

4 - Genie granted you three NSFW wishes. What are you wishing for?

14 - What body part would you worship on other people to the end of time because NGHHHH?

22 - What’s a toy you’d love to use? Why?

32 - What is your most unusual turn on?

41 - What’s the best orgasm you had in past months?

46 - What scent do you find arousing?

Bonus questions:

1 - Are you satisfied with your sex life? If not, what would you change? If yes, is there something you would still like to improve to make it even better?

3 - Did you find out something new about yourself?

My own questions:

Are there question(s) you were hoping to answer? If yes, which one(s)?

I've seen you around my notifs and want to make an effort to be be more social! On the chance I shall return, may I go by 👑 anon?

Hehe, I did answer all of these, but I’m a yapper, so it’s all under the cut. Thank you for sending them!!!

General Questions

Genie + 3 wishes:

I tried my best to pitch these like an actual genie was going to fuck me over if I worded these wrong, haha

I want a strap (the dildo, not the gun kind) and a matching harness. The harness will perfectly fit anyone who wears it, however they choose to wear it, and it will be effortless to slip on and off per their desire. When they wear the strap, it can transform into anything they desire the strap to be. When they wear it, the sensation of the strap will travel to its wearer as if the strap were a part of their body. The strap can be removed from the harness, and if someone is touching/holding it with intention, the same powers apply. When someone wears the harness only, without the strap, the ring where the strap usually sits can transform into any hole the wearer desires, and the sensations travel to the wearer. Essentially, I wish for a shape-shifting dildo and harness for me and all my peeps to use, to get insurmountable levels of euphoria, hehe

Whenever I need it, brand new quality condoms and lube (i.e. not expired, no rips or holes, still in its packaging, hasn’t been used before) that is proper for the context of the scenario (i.e. if we use the shapeshifting dildo, then shapeshifting condoms would appear) will appear somewhere I will effortlessly find without shame of retrieving it (i.e. they cannot be high on a shelf, or appear in front of my family during dinner, etc)

…I want the genie to have sexual intercourse with me, per their consent. The sex cannot begin without full honest disclosure of boundaries and protective barriers like safe words, aftercare procedures, plans for the acts, etc. No matter what, both parties must treat each other with respect before, during, and after the sex. The both parties are obligated to stay until both parties have been properly recovered/taken care of after the intercourse, in all regards. If either of us wanted a repeat, the other party is easy to contact and discuss with, per our respective consents.

Body part I worship:

Uhh hm. I don’t quite know yet; everytime I’ve seen a body I find attractive thus far, everything has had equal magnetism

I suppose I’ll say the neck area? I’m really into marking and stuff like that, and doing that right next to someone’s ear sounds deliciously devious, hehe

Toy you’d love to use:

The desperate playthings that wanders onto my page.

Something controlled by an app so anyone in the world could play with me flusters me to no end (I’m a bit of an attention whore). I’ve wanted a knotted dildo for as long as I’ve known they’ve existed. I have wolf ears and I’d really like a matching tail

And y’know, the all-powerful shapeshifting dildo/strap I made for the genie question would be pretty baller too, bwahahaha

Unusual turn on:

…well, pen ink is probably the most bizarre, but I’m making you read the arousing scent question for that explanation, hehe

But in terms of fantasy stuff, I kind of forget what counts as unusual? My brain is rotten from the internet age, bwahaha. Sometimes my brain wonders if porn has been made for a certain niche so I’ll look that up and sometimes it ends up being arousing. Oh, like dick biting! That was an impulse search, and I mean, I wouldn’t actually bite someone’s genitals at risk of hurting them, but there’s something so…. real to me about the thought?

I mean, blowjobs use your mouth. A mouth that isn’t really made for that activity. It’s designed to daily bite and tear through flesh, or even just tough food/material (shoutout to the vegans hehe). We have teeth that specialize in stabbing and grinding, our jaws are made to snap closed and maim, and the saliva of our tongues, that beloved “wet, warm heat”, is really used to destroy whatever touches it on a molecular level. And all of that is tucked away or ignored for a shared pleasure. But, at any time, I or my partner(s) could just “chomp!” and it’s game fucking over and. We just choose not to. It’s… powerful, and hot

Best orgasm:

This past weekend, I was on the phone and got teased by my friends, and I couldn’t sleep, so after the call ended I fucked myself for hours. It felt soooo good; I’m squirming just thinking about it. I finally had access to a toy and the fullness wasn’t just good, it was downright relieving, haha. And I didn’t want the fun to end so I just kept edging myself and fuck, I was so desperate for it by the end, I couldn’t stop my little whimpers and pleas for more. My entire body was tingling after I gave myself permission too

Arousing scent:

okokokokokokokoo hear me out… benzaldehyde. It’s is a common, natural chemical in cherries and almonds and apple seeds, and is a rather large solvent component in pen ink and perfumes.

How did I learn this? Well, about a year ago, I found a ballpoint pen. And it smelled. Reeeeally fucking good. Everytime I wrote, the paper would smell like cherries after, and my favorite fruit is cherries, so at first I was like, “oh, neat!!” So even before this sexy stuff, I was just obsessed, couldn’t stop smelling it

But then, some wonderful Internet person talked about using the smell of benzaldehyde to make a “dangerous, luring” heat scent, like a spider attracting mates like they’re prey. Having to Google what benzaldehyde was, and learning it was in the pen I was practically huffing each time I used it, was so humiliating but so arousing. In a way, I had been lulled in by the scent; I was obsessed with it. I ended up in a pretty long rut because I was unable to stop myself from obsessing over the smell of this pen, freshly associated with my embarrassment and the unstoppable allure of a heat and hhhhhhhg because of dom(me) omegas in general please use me like I’m nothing more than your dildo holy fuck

My poor hyperactive high-libido brain still hasn’t been able to break that dissociation from benzaldehyde and heat. Sooo yeah. Some specific ballpoint ink pens, specifically that benzaldehyde solvent they have, really turn me on, haha

Bonus Questions

Critiquing my sex life:

Despite being a virgin, I’d say I have a rich sex life. Some aspects I’m happy with and some I’m not. Making this account was probably one of the biggest steps I could’ve taken to bettering that; it’s just one of the only spaces I feel comfortable expressing myself like this, not to mention exploring gender/sexuality identities. I want to keep working on interacting with people!

I also just want to try out new ways of orgasming! I have a very particular method, which is good and can be fun to exploit all on its own, but when I’ve tried other ways they’ve been way more pleasurable despite me not being able to orgasm from it. So I want to work on breaking that old routine.

Finding something out about myself:

Yeah, I didn’t realize how into primal play I am right now until I started answering these, haha!

The genie question was tough but fun; I was wondering at some point if I should just make a necklace with shape-shifting powers for first wish, but it didn’t feel sexy enough, bwahaha

I was thinking about a portal for the third wish, like any party could instantly travel the to meet, but I got dizzy trying to make the bounds for that one, bwahahaha. Plus, I thought the genie fucking me would be a funnier punchline. And also because I. Kind of maybe got a little horny while writing all of this, haha.. i mean, I’ve been chipping away at answering these non-linearly since last night, I think you can tell which ones I started answering towards the end here, hahahaha

Though, also, I didn’t really realize how high my libido was until recently!! So there ya go, I think that’s like 4 new things learned?

Your Questions

Questions I wanted to answer: Yeah, a couple!!!!

I REALLY wanted to answer that scent one because I’m into a/b/o so much it makes me look stupid bwahahahaha. So thank you, thank you!!!

37 "What's your opinion on sexting?": I fuckin' love it. More people should do it really. With my specifically, hehe. (Really, I wanted to answer this one so people knew that there was an open invitation)

42 “Do you like going commando?”: I do! I usually don’t sleep with any underwear on actually, unless I’m menstruating or something. Although sometimes wearing underwear, especially boxers with a harder seam has its… appeal

69 “Would you let your partner pimp you out”: ….mhm. I’m learning more and more that I like having a lot of attention on me — I think that’s why I had my whole phase on packs taking care of each other’s ruts/heats — and I’d trust the ones I have in mind with that. I mean, in practice, I’d want to discuss it a little more, make sure there’s a lot of trust and safety going on, but. Yeah, the thought of it is pretty…. Hnnf, yeah

People with vaginas 2 “favorite way to jerk off”: one of the funnest ways for me to jerk off is when I tug against it like it’s my dick. Maybe is TMI but sometimes I use my pubes as an “anchor” to stroke myself and it just does something for me. I’ll do the classic two finger handjob too, bwahaha

Re being 👑:

Hehehe, absolutely you can, you cutie frickin' patootie *kicking feet, giggling, twirling hair* !!!

Thank you again for asking all of this; it was hella fun. Keep asking more if you’d like, and feel free to drop by anytime! I’d be more than happy to hear from you and help you, in any way you desire, my prince ;p

OK so not seen any Oscar stuff so here's a little soft angsty one.

You're the dom for Mclaren and you've wondered for the last few weeks why Oscar only wants short scenes with you. You chalk it up to him still finding his feet, but lando comes to you to say the reason why he only wants short scenes is because he's scared.

Your reputation as a dom is that you get very close to your subs. Closer than any of the other team doms, in his eyes he replaced Daniel. So you're going to get angry with him at some point.

Even though he desperately needs longer scenes and more from you.

Soon as you find out you're praising lando for telling you then as soon as you know he's ok (he got upset because Oscar made him promise not to say) you're running to Oscars driver's room. 🐇

Aw poor Oscar!!! I’m very happy to see we’re talking about him more and this is brilliant.

Firstly, I think in general Oscar struggles a lot with the fact that he knows most people didn’t want him to be the person in his seat? He’s well aware that most people preferred Daniel, that most see him as a bratty replacement who will never last and will never be able to live up to Daniel.

At first he’s actually so thankful and excited to meet you, because he knows he needs a pro Dom. He knows that he hasn’t been taking care of his submissive side right and that the pressure is starting to get to him. So genuinely he’s excited to meet you.

He was self aware enough to know he was lacking a safe space to relax and submit, and he really thought you’d be able to give that to him.

But then he heard more about you and he heard how you’re known for forming very special bonds with your submissives and his heart just drops. Because he knows there’s no way in hell you didn’t form a special bond with Daniel, and there’s no way you didn’t already hate him for replacing Daniel.

Lando tries to talk some sense into him, maybe even suggests doing some scenes together? But Oscar won’t hear it. He sticks to short scenes with you, barely revealing anything about himself to you and not allowing himself to form an actual connection with you because he’s so sure you hate him.

And of course you don’t hate him, but you can’t force him to scene longer then he wants to. If he says short sessions, then that’s what it will be. You haven’t gotten to know him enough to feel comfortable overruling him on that.

But the truth is that he’s not functioning. You’re a good Dom, there’s no denying that. Oscar genuinely loves his scenes with you, and no one has ever treated him better.

The problem is that Oscar can’t properly fall into a deep subspace because he doesn’t have enough time for that.

What he really needs is just to relax, to submit for a long while and get a full day’s with of aftercare. But that would involve long cuddles and soft kisses and trading stories and a level of bonding he promised himself he wouldn’t reach.

Naturally, Lando blabs to you about this.

But don’t blame Lando!! The poor thing had just been fucked silly and all he could think of was how he knew Oscar would never have been fucked like this before because you only do it when you can spend the rest of the day on aftercare. And never being fucked silly by you is cruel and unusual punishment in his opinion.

You have to approach Oscar about it, and Oscar genuinely gets so scared. He thinks that now that you know how secret, you’ll come clean about your true feelings.

Which isn’t true of course. You sit Oscar down and talk to him, telling him that the past is the past. Who you dommed before doesn’t matter when you have him to look after, when he is your responsibility.

Maybe you share some things about yourself with him? You went him to realise that you actually want a bond with him, that he’s allowed to interject himself in your life, to wonder into your room to kneel whenever he wants, to take your fingers into his mouth whenever he can, etc.

He ends up in subspace for a full weekend.

even though i'm binary, nick cave's letter to a nonbinary fan of his still makes me so emotional

I’m non-binary, which (sorry if you already know this) means I feel neither male nor female. To most of the people who know me in this shitty country town, I’m a butch dyke. My amazing girlfriend got me into your music, and I honestly can’t adequately thank her for it, and can’t adequately thank you. Especially when I saw some of the music videos, the androgyny and sort of cross-genderedness of your performance style (my girlfriend agrees you often bring an amazing drag-queen energy) make me feel so seen and understood, in a way I never get to in my real life. I never thought I’d see the physical embodiment of what my mind desperately wants my body to be like, though it’ll never be. It was an unformed yearning before. I want to be like you when I grow up. I guess my question is, what would you say to as not-man, not-woman, pseudo-dyke fan and their unformed yearning to feel right in their body and now has an admittedly unattainable model for exactly what they want to be? MARY "MICKEY", SOMERVILLE, USA

Dear Mary “Mickey”,

I enjoyed your letter very much and I think I understand your notion of “unformed yearning” – a kind of longing that has yet to find its provenance. I have felt something similar for most of my life, although obviously in a very different way, and it has taken me a lifetime to work out who I am, or at least what my own personal value is in the world. It also seems that for most of my life I felt a strange gravitational pull toward an undisclosed traumatic event, that could only be described as a dreadful yearning, and I found it eventually in my son’s death – something that both destroyed me and ultimately defined me. It feels that the unformed yearning that followed me through my days, manifested in the death of my son. Does that make any sense to you? My son’s death brought me to the essence of my formed self. I mention this, because it could be that the unformed yearning that you speak of may turn out to be something that eventually obliterates you, but also brings you back to life, transforming you into something beyond yourself.

As for the “androgyny and cross-genderedness” that you spoke of in your letter, well, this can be fairly simply explained. Although I am a man – and have spent a fair amount of energy writing about that – I have actually never felt any real allegiance to my masculinity; there was nothing particularly invested in it, and even though I was more or less heterosexual, I have always felt pliant in my navigations between maleness and femaleness, even – and perhaps especially – growing up within the overtly masculine Australian culture. It just wasn’t of any special focus to me – my interests were elsewhere – art, music, image, clothes, etc. – of which many of the students at the school I attended, back in the 70s, were deeply suspicious. My small group of friends and I were known at the school as the “art poofs” – we kind of liked it actually, and happily appropriated a certain queer and rarefied air, as it ring-fenced us off from the rest of the school, and in retrospect it toughened us up for the world to come.

I am happy that your girlfriend acknowledged my “drag-queen energy” – which means to me, defiant, courageous and savvy; to quote Camille Paglia, “The drag queens of old knew how to handle themselves on the street.” As for me being a role model, well, you could probably do better, but I am honoured to serve as a placeholder until someone more suitable comes along.

As I said, I very much enjoyed your letter, and maybe I recognise some of what you are talking about. Obviously, I have no real authority to answer you, except to say, I hope you find some form of escape from your “shitty little town”, within yourself or outside of the town itself, and the unformed yearning of which you so beautifully speak, in time, manifests to your needs. Whatever, I am with you.

With love, Nick

Little Sunshine - Chapter 2

(Also available on AO3 with poorly translated Italian and Latin poorly translated for you!) +18 MDNI Includes: 2k+ words of smut, Papa IV/Reader, Interrupted solo play, dirty talk, body worship, light sub/dom, oral, vaginal fingering, comfort/gentle play, mutual pining, masturbation, etc. Notes: Shorter chapter this time so you don't have to wait forever. I was aiming for smut, I swear, but I landed closer to cute and feels. There is still smut! Copia just also needs love, okay?

_________________________________________________________

Not Papa… Copia… It drags up the memory of the first time you saw him. Those vivid red robes in a sea of black. Looking more uncertain in the black paint than you’d ever seen anyone look. That awkward smile and his old moustache. One look and you’d known you were doomed. And now he’s here, promising to take care of you. It feels even better than his fingers working you close to madness.

The toe of his leather shoe pokes between your feet, slowly urging them apart. Spreading you open wider for him. Making your knees shake and lighting an inferno in your soul. Here it may not be Papa but, Satanas, who else could hold such power over you? Partly out of desperation to touch him and partly to keep from collapsing, you reach back to bury your hand in his hair. His mouth hasn’t moved more than a hair’s breadth from your skin since his arm wrapped around you and his hot breath on your shoulder comes almost as hard and fast as your own.

When you tip your face toward his, hearing his name on your lips is all it takes for him to claim your mouth again. The same desperate, eager passion as the first time. Kissing you like it’s all that might sustain him. Your fingers tighten in his hair and he moans deeply, pulling away just enough to gasp for breath. “Cara mia… Satana può avere la mia anima, ma il mio corpo è tuo.” He says with a shaky breath. Fingers slowing their pace enough for you to regain even a modicum of your composure.

Forcing your hand to relax, to gently drag your nails over his scalp, you lean into his kiss. Softer this time, slower. Setting aside the pure, simple, thoughtless lust. Instead, giving him every ounce of passion and care and attention you have felt.

It’s so very easy to get lost in the blinding carnal desire. And so easy to overlook the way your heart swells every time you see the corner of his mouth quirk up from across the room, the way his laugh echoing in the hall has you grinning like a fool, the way the sadness just behind his eyes makes you desperate to hold him tightly and tell him he is perfect, and beautiful, and so very loved. Him, just as he is. Copia.

The sound that flows from him isn’t the same moan. It barely sounds like the same man. Enough to shake you to your core. Like touching something pure and perfect for the first time. Like summer rain on the parched earth. You barely notice his hand has stilled until the other brushes your side. Turning you around to face him. Not Papa, you think again. Copia.

It barely takes a nudge to have him stepping with you, backward to the bed. When the mattress bumps the back of his legs, he reluctantly pulls away from your kiss and sits. Hands never leaving you, exploring every surface, every curve. His mouth delicately following his hands, trailing kissing and soft nibbles that leave you whimpering and struggling to keep still.

“Copia,” you breathe, cupping his cheek, and those mismatched eyes meet yours. “I know, your turn. I won’t argue.” A small cheeky smile and a soft kiss. “Especially now that I know how very good you are with your hands. But will you allow me one tiny concession?”

He looks up at you curiously, almost suspicious. You are a wily one, after all. He’s learned that quickly. “And what tiny concession is that, cara mia?”

Your eyes flick down, trying not to focus on his open trousers or his achingly hard cock demanding all of your attention. But instead the trousers themselves and his perfectly shined shoes. “Will you let me help you out of those clothes, please? That’s all I ask.”

That tiny smile melts your heart. Copia nods, slowly letting you go after a few more lingering kisses. “How can I say no when you ask so sweetly?”

His hips shift to help when you tug the waistband of his trousers down over the swell of his backside. Copia’s eyes glittering when you steal the opportunity to run your hands over his skin, kneading your palms into the muscle. Besides, who could blame you? It’s hard to resist when a cake that looks that good.

Kneeling on the floor is much easier this time. Sitting back on your feet, a little more relaxed. Taking one foot and then the other. Undoing the laces delicately, setting them neatly aside, and tucking his socks into them. The pattern of the fabric and the red lines left by the seams of his shoes stand out starkly against his pale skin.

He chuckles softly when he hears you tutting. “The hazards of the office, tesoro. Long days and too much time on my feet.” His husky groan of pleasure stokes the fire burning in your heart, massaging firmly into his poor tired feet. Even if he gives you a bit of a scolding look and teases with a wag of his finger. “I thought it was just helping me undress, we agreed to. This feels dangerously close to more than that.”

You meet his minor admonishment with those big doe eyes again. Giving him a bit of a pout. “It’s much easier to get your trousers off without your shoes, mio angelo oscuro. And I wouldn’t want you to be distracted by your sore feet when you could be focused on far more pleasurable things.”

Copia shakes his head with a grin. “Una cosa così malvagia che sei.”

“You say the sweetest things.” Your smile mirrors his and you finish easing away the pains of his day. Trousers following quickly to join the rest.

Only then do you crawl up off the floor to straddle his lap. Finally facing him, pressed tightly against his warm skin. His hands splayed on your back, holding you there firmly. Your hands massaging into his shoulders, working out the knots of tension, and down his arms. The wonder and the awe on his face as he watches your are so plain to see, you can feel the blush rising without him saying a word.

“Now,” you purr, rolling your hips against him. “You were going to care for me, this evening? Is that right?”

His hands pull you closer and his mouth is trailing kisses over your skin without hesitation. “Si, cara mia.” He’ll accept no argument and you have none to offer. Combing your fingers gently through his thick brown hair. Moaning softly as he sucks at your nipple, flicking his tongue with expert precision.

His hands shift behind you, bracing your back and cupping your backside with a satisfying squeeze. The muscles of his shoulders flexing under your hands as he lifts and turns, lying you back down onto the bed. In the same place this all started. Staring up at the ceiling, thinking only of him. This time, however, you don’t need to picture his face. He’s right there, in all his glory. The warm glow of the candles dancing on his skin and the soft lines of his face making him look like Le Genie du Mal come to life.

His voice is gentle, a private whisper only for you. “Is this as good as you were picturing earlier, mio angelo?” His kisses follow your neck and along your shoulder.

“No…” You admit, toying with a lock of hair that hangs down over his forehead.

“No?” Copia’s attention snaps back up to your face, looking almost crestfallen.

“No,” You repeat, with the faintest hint of a smile and a shake of your head. “It doesn’t even compare. This… This is better than any silly fantasy could hope to be. Why would I ever, ever want a dream over this? Over you?”

All of the tension goes out of his shoulders and he chuckles softly, giving one hard pink nipple a pinch just enough to get a squeak from you. “Naughty girl, tormenting me so. You scared me.”

You cup his cheek and he leans into the touch. “Forgive me, I tease. I can’t help myself.”

“Oh no. No, no, no.” He bites at your shoulder and begins trailing kisses down your chest. “This just means I will have to repay your wickedness later.”

Pater infra, I hope so. This man has you grinning like a fool again.

Copia covers your chest in kisses, down over your belly. Nuzzling his nose against your skin and exploring every inch with his hands. Every little sound of pleasure from him like a gift. Watching how the muscles of his back flex and move as he explores is almost too much to bare. When his mouth presses into the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, there is a part of you that is just a little sad. The part that remembers his moustache and the hours spent thinking about how it would tickle just there. But whatever is missed from a fantasy is more than made up for by reality.

His fingers slide over your clit, agonisingly slow, as he nibbles teasingly at your thigh. One firm hand holding your leg in place. Pressing your hips closer to his fingers, trying to get more, only encourages him to pull away a little further. Even from your position, you can see the teasing smirk. Encouraging this man’s mischievous streak may be your undoing yet.

Copia looks up at you, a wicked glint in his pale eye when the candle light catches it. “You did ask me to bless you, Sorella.” He purrs.

His fingers leave you, despite a whimpered protest, two raised and slick from his teasing. He reaches up and marks your belly with a cross, speaking in a tone you know all to well from his sermons. “In nomine Patris obscuri…” Another just above your public bone. “…et Filii…” And finally, he licks his lips, sliding his fingers over you again in a cross. “…et Spiritus Profani.”

Before you can even make a sound, his fingers press in deeply, curling up and sending a jolt along your spine. He kisses along the crease of your hip, savouring your moan while his thumb circles your clit languidly. When you feel him pulling away, it’s almost enough to make you cry. But he holds up his fingers again, slick down to his knuckles. That devious smile playing on his lips. You watch as he licks the taste of you off his fingers and hums with deep satisfaction.

“Nettare degli dei…” He says almost dreamily. Shifting himself a little into a better position, Copia pins your legs open wide and reverently leans into take a taste.

Like he’s been with everything so far, he begins slowly. Giving you time to adjust, and letting the tension build. His tongue proves not to be any less skilled than his fingers, his nose bumping against your sweet spot as he drags the flat of his tongue over you. The moan he gives is almost obscene, hips grinding into the bed, grip tightening on your legs. When his tongue presses inside, you bury your hand in his hair again.

No matter how sternly you command your legs to give in to his grip, they shake and squirm as his tongue works you harder and faster. Your hips won’t comply either, pressing back against him, eager for more. For all of him. You’d tell him as much, but the only sounds you can manage are a series of increasingly needy moans.

“Co… Copia…” You manage to gasp, writhing under him and gripping the bedding until you’re certain it will tear. “Satanas… Please… I’m… I….”

He pulls away slowly, looking up at you with hungry eyes. One hand releases your leg and the marks left by his grip ache deliciously. It’s a brief reprieve as his hand picks up where his tongue left off. Copia’s chin is practically dripping, any trace of the black lip paint he wore is long gone. “You want me to release you, cara mia?”

“P-please…” The whimper is desperate. “I can’t… I can’t…”

“Can’t what, dolcezza?”

Every ounce of concentration not dedicated to slipping over the edge just yet is needed for three simple words. “I can’t… wait.”

He chuckles softly, licking his lips still slick from his ministrations. “Ah, I see.” He settles back down kissing just over your pubic bone and nuzzling his nose against your skin. “In that case, bellissimo angelo, it would be cruel to keep you in torment… Cum for me.”

Copia’s generous lips catch your clit almost daintily. As if you weren’t close enough. As if his order wasn’t one you were eager to comply with. The gentlest sucking and the quick flicking of his tongue has your back arching off of the bed like one possessed. Your voice catches in your throat and your breath along with it. While the inferno he sparked explodes and consumes you until you wonder if this may be the actual death of you. The cry that finally breaks loose is like nothing anyone has ever gotten from you before. The waves crash against the shore and slowly, finally recede, leaving you gasping for breath on the bed.

It must be only moments, though time has lost all meaning, before he’s tactfully cleaned his face and climbs up to look at you. More than a little pride in that smile. His hair is a tousled mane that wreathes his face, the work of your own hands. When he kisses you, you can still taste yourself on his tongue, sending another shock wave through your core. And another when you feel him stiff and wanting, pressed against stomach.

“Copia…” Somehow both the simplest and most complex prayer you know, said with such reverence and care. You cup his flushed cheek and kiss him again. Slowly, deeply, passionately.“Tu sei perfetto… Non Papa, non Emerito, nemmeno Cardinale... Copia. Bella, dolce, divertente, meravigliosa, perfetta... Copia.”

His blush only deepens and for a long moment, he searches your face. That sadness you’ve seen behind his eyes looks out at you again. Wanting to believe the words but holding back.

“Voglio te. Solo tu. Tutti voi. Per favore. Ti prego.” Your hands slide around, kneading into the muscles of his back, holding him close. Kissing him once more, one soft, simple kiss. Whispering as if someone might catch you both and staring back into that uncertain gaze. “Il mio cuore, la mia anima... sono tuoi. Copia.”

The look on his face is hard to read. For half a second you worry you’ve said the wrong thing. An apology is already half formed. Such a fool to be so terribly forward. To think so much of yourself. He doesn’t need to assurances of some no-

His arms wrap around you, pulling you tightly to himself. Kissing you with such ardent desire it makes your head spin. Breaking away only just enough to look at you in wonder. “Che posto strano per trovare un angelo.”

If it were anyone else, at any other time, you’d believe it was only a line. But from him, just then, hearing the tone of his voice… nothing has ever sounded so sweet and sincere.

You kiss along his jaw, nibbling at his earlobe. “Do you want me?”

His forehead presses into your shoulder. “Desperately.”

“Then, please, take me.”