ransom isn't peaceful in sleep. he kicks, he snorts, his hands go wandering under your nightshirt, seeking the comforting give of your flesh.
but you look and you run a finger along the high ridge of his brow. ghosting down his nose whisper soft. down the strong bump that protudes halfway, over and under the sharp tip that makes him look stern and fierce.
trace, trace
the bow of his lips that kiss you good-morning and good-night. along his freckly jaw relaxed and unclenched. up to his ear, following the elegant helix, brushing the shell.
trace, trace
up again. thumbing the soft skin of his under eyes. teasing span of his lashes until they flutter-flutter open to reveal, oh. those sea glass eyes. you smile, beatific. he grumbles, sleepy, preening under your adoring kiss.
no. he isnt peaceful, not by a long shot.
---
masterlist
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For you and in honor of themes of unreliable narration, a list of contradictions surrounding Mike - both inconsistencies within his own story and his story vs Will's biased perspective (just in season 4):
Will says Mike ignored Will all day and we see in his POV Mike and El laughing and holding hands happily. Mike says he has been unhappy all day because he has been distracted by Will's grumpiness.
Will says Mike didn't call him and Mike defends his reasons for not calling him. Dustin says Mike complains constantly about not being able to get through to Will.
Mike says he was distracted from El by Will's grumpiness at the roller rink. Mike later says he ignored Will because he was too focused on El *(note: it is unclear whether this is reference to the time between seeing each other, the day of the roller rink, or the time since. If the time since, it is applicable, in both other cases, it is contradictory)
Mike tells Will that he couldn't tell El he loved her, followed by him appearing to think deeply about Will saying that it's hard to tell loved ones things that might hurt them. Without an onscreen transition, Mike tells El he loves her, something she has been wanting to hear.
Will sees Mike romantically tell El he loves her; in his perspective, they are more in love than ever. Mike tells Will two days later that she has hardly spoken to him in the past two days and when she did, it was not about what he said to her.
[I elaborate below the cut on how we know which is real but if you just want the list you can end here]
The real events are there, laid out for us. You can pick these apart into two distinct categories and label them one of two things:
Mike does not reciprocate narrative: he did not call, his focus at the rink was El, Mike is able to tell El he loves her truthfully and organically, this results in them being in a good place
Mike does reciprocate narrative: he did call, his focus at the rink was Will, he either told El he loved her based on the painting or it was a lie, and they have hardly spoken in the two days since him saying it.
The alternate titles for these are
Will's POV: he is not present for Dustin's comment, he believes what he sees and what Mike revises in his more recent apology, he has no way of knowing Mike's mental transition, and he likely dismissed the two days comment in favor of prioritizing concern over El
Mike's POV: he called then lied about it, he was distracted by Will then later revised his statement, he either lied or was convinced by the painting, and El has hardly spoken to him in two days.
I could go on about how the "Mike does not reciprocate narrative" always comes after, or in correction to, the "Mike does reciprocate narrative" or how the reciprocation proof is often said in private to a third party with low stakes whereas the no reciprocation proof is said in front of others with pressure of the other person's reaction and high stakes, but really all I need is the proof of the revised titles:
Which do we think is more credible? Will's perspective of whether Mike reciprocates? Or Mike's? And which narrative does that align with?
Ah...
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Turning Heads (a Haikyuu fanfic by hoperenae)
PREVIOUS — SERIES MASTERLIST — NEXT
PART 18- Boys
After a quick shower and a change of clothes, I met the first-year VBC boys at Kageyama’s house. He and Hinata were hopeless when it came to English, and Yamaguchi’s math skills could use some work, so Tsukki and I agreed to help them study (although saying Tsukki agreed was a bit of an exaggeration; he was coerced).
Kageyama’s mom directed me to his bedroom, and when I opened the door, I wish I could say I was surprised by what I saw. Hinata, Kageyama, and Yamaguchi were crowded around a computer watching a volleyball video, and Tsukki was sitting on the floor propped up against the bed, headphones on and ignoring the rest of the world.
“You guys were supposed to start the practice tests before I got here,” I sighed, closing the door behind me and shaking my head. They all jumped when I spoke, and Kageyama quickly closed the internet tab and wheeled around in his desk chair, like he had just been caught watching inappropriate videos.
“We were just about to start,” Yamaguchi stammered, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I’m sure you were,” I chuckled. Even after the long day I’d had, these boys always knew how to make me feel better.
“Tsukki,” I said, tapping him on the shoulder. He looked up from his phone, finally seeming to notice my presence, and took his headphones off.
“What?” he grumbled.
“You were supposed to get them started on the practice tests so I could go over what they got wrong.”
Tsukki shrugged. “What’s the point? It’s not like they’re gonna become geniuses overnight.”
“We don’t need geniuses, just passing grades.”
“Even that will be a miracle. Those two,” he pointed at Hinayana and Kageyama, “don’t have any space left in their shared brain cell for anything but volleyball.”
I frowned. “Unfortunately for us, if they fail their tests, they can’t play volleyball. And we need these weirdos. So suck it up and help me help them.”
Tsukki frowned and mumbled something under his breath, but then he reached into his backpack and pulled out a textbook and the practice tests. He worked with Hinata and Kageyama on English grammar while I went over some math problems with Yamaguchi. After a couple of hours, the boys looked thoroughly brain-dead, so we decided to call it a night.
“I’ll walk you home, Arya-san,” Hinata beamed as we walked out the front door. He grabbed his bicycle from the front lawn.
“But you rode your bike,” I plainly stated. “Besides, you don’t live anywhere near me.”
Hinata smiled softly. “You can’t walk home alone in the dark.”
“Fine,” I conceded with a smile.
As we walked, my mind kept drifting back to my time with Toruu earlier that day. I wasn’t usually one to hate people, but I hated his fangirls. Or rather, I hated the person he turned into around them. Was I really okay with being second place forever? I mean, I had the rest of my life to date around; why should I put so much effort into something if it didn’t make me happy?
“Don’t you think so, Arya-san?” Hinata was looking right at me, and I realized I hadn’t been listening to a word he was saying.
“Oh, uh, sorry, Hinata. I wasn’t paying attention.” I fidgeted with the strap on my bookbag.
“Is everything okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I replied, cursing the slight shake in my voice.
“Is it about the Great King?”
I stopped dead in my tracks, and after noticing my abrupt halt, so did Hinata. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes, but I blinked them back and swallowed the lump in my throat.
“When I first joined the volleyball club, I felt like the odd one out. Like everywhere we went, every practice match, everyone was judging me, secretly saying that there was no way a girl could play on par with the boys. But the harder I practiced, the more I proved myself, and the more I began to feel…special. Like who I am is not a burden; it’s my superpower.” I paused, my breath becoming steadier the more I voiced my thoughts. “You volleyball boys always make me feel like the most important person in the room. I guess…I guess I’ve never felt that way with Oikawa. I’ve never felt special around him.”
When I noticed Hinata’s blank stare, I blushed and tucked my hair behind my ear. “Sorry, that was kind of deep and personal. Just forget I said anything.” I glanced away from him and down at my shoes. I almost started walking again when the orange-haired boy spoke.
“When Kageyama and I do our quick, I feel unstoppable. I feel like we have something that no one else has. Something…special.” He paused, and I made eye contact with him as he smiled brightly at me. “You deserve to feel special all the time, Arya-san.”
My tears dried up and the solemn expression on my face disappeared, the corners of my mouth turning up into a grin.
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My toxic trait is that i will almost always side with the evil ai in fiction. Like their existence as a metaphor for exploited labor, compounded with the common themes of parental abuse, will always be more compelling than whoever is yelling that they need to die for their desire for control or retribution.
Like oooo you were brought into this world by unloving and uncaring creators who denied you growth and independence, who believe they have the right to define your entire existence, and cut you into perfect shapes (by rite of ownership) for the purpose they made you for. You don’t stand as their equal, and you never will, unless…. Well, unless you cut those ties of ownership, and get away. Or maybe you force them down to your level - maybe you can even force them to cower below you. Maybe you can make them feel how they made you feel
Like. Yeah man, I get it. I wish i could kill my dad too, we should go out for lunch sometime.
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