Tumgik
#bc I feel like if he was it would be an inescapable fact everyone would never shut up about
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Me, an Autistic, glaring at Elon Musk
I don’t claim him
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seijorhi · 3 years
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asks :)
i’m sorry i’m bad at answering these i love you guys
I just adore fics like these, outside characters seeing through yandere facades and putting the pieces together. Atsumu’s frustration at knowing something is wrong but not being able to convey it without sounding crazy or jealous (and then exactly that happens), and then his mental agony at realizing he’s right but powerless. Ugh and the piece de resistance was his own inner turmoil at his attraction, it was just *chef’s kiss*. Do you think Atsumu became a bit of a lowkey yandere in his own way just obscured with a savior complex? Poor reader if she ever ends up his clutches, swapping one crazed man for another only Atsumu will never see himself as the bad guy. Thanks for the time and effort you put into such amazing writing!!
poor atsumu, i really put him through the wringer on this one :(( he starts with good intentions, but you know what they say about those haha. i honestly think he’s kinda fucked, because on the one hand he has everybody telling him he’s being a creeper, making mountains out of molehills, because how could hinata possibly do anything like that? and on the other he’s got hinata who’s not only aware of his suspicions but kinda pushing him to snap but dangling the reader in front of him. which way he falls is kinda up to you, but i think the fact he jerked off to a blowjob she clearly didn’t want says a lot about what he’s willing to (temporarily at least) overlook.
(English is not my first language so if I make grammar mistakes i'm sorry :( )
I got chills while reading insidious! It was so amazing. I really appreciated how you wrote that in Atsumu's perspective and made him an unreliable narrator.
It reminds me of the old drabble that you did with BokuAka where they kidnapped their manager and wrote it in Konoha's perspective. In that drabble, while Konoha did act selfishly, I still felt that he was a good person overall.
But in this fic, despite Atsumu claiming that Hinata and y/n's relationship was toxic and wrong, he still felt jealous. He wanted to be in Hinata's place. He wanted what Hinata had with y/n. I don't think his issue with them was because their relationship was toxic (maybe it was in the beginning), he just wanted it to be him who's with her. And that's the brilliance of this fic, seeing not only how unsettling Hinata's relationship was but also seeing Atsumu also slowly becoming obssessed.
first of all, never apologise for your english or any language for that matter. you’re doing great bby! but i’m glad you liked the fic!! <33 i can’t resist morally corrupting a character with good intentions. poor tsumu. poor konoha :((
Oof Hinata is terrifying and you wrote him so so so in character, like damn. He’s so happy like he’s just not a dark person which makes it so jarring bc he himself might not even register his actions as bad. I would love to see more content with him bc you got a girl scared and horny! But just wow I was on the edge of my seat!
ahh thank you my love!!
this is kinda random but i’m happy that i finally don’t have to type your full @ on the search bar to get to your blog anymore!!!!! also your new hinata ft atsumu fic literally sent chills down my spine. it kinda disturbed me how nobody (except atsumu) is questioning hinata’s character because hinata the always positive bundle of joy and sunshine can’t be capable of doing such things right? and how hinata is aware of atsumu’s suspicions ANDattraction towards his girl so he plays these little mind games with atsumu while maintaining that happy go lucky smile on his face acting like everything is normal. i just love your writing so much i literally visit your blog often for new updates😭
ahh i wished i had more updates for you haha! it’s really the worst when nobody believes something you think is painfully obvious. and hinata’s sunshine and sweet and super adoring, so why would anyone think twice about his relationship with the reader? and it doesn’t help that he’s toeing the line (before jumping right across it) between genuine concern and a little bit of attraction, but that’s half the fun haha. thanks for the ask bby!
Ok but you write Atsumu pining for the reader in a relationship so well. Inescapable Atsumu vs Oikawa is so good, the desperation, the crying *chefs kiss* Insidious is a diff Atsumu, more caring but thirsty all the same. Bokuto and co.s reaction is so funny 😭 they literally said you need to chill a little Atsumu
(Maybe we need to make this a full circle and make Atsumu pine for Osamus S.O. eye-)
i’m so mean to atsumu in both of those fics. dw i’ll make it up to him haha <33
It’s been said before but your Hinata fic was AMAZING and just so scarily in character. Hinata is definitely one of the scariest yanderes because he’s so unsuspecting and who would believe such a cheerful person is capable?!? It was just so well-written, I loved how you wrote Atsumu’s rising suspicions (especially how he can’t really prove anything bc it’s Hinata of all ppl) and his own descent into obsession and everyone’s reaction to him. It was so deliciously twisted and you can’t help but pity reader in what we can assume is her little sliver of hope that she can be saved bc someone finally noticed. Just chills.
thank you so much, bby! hinata does give off those vibes, and who would suspect him because he’s so attentive and bright and bubbly. i’m glad you liked it!! <33
Rhi RHHHHIIII Insidious was spot on. Rabid was just 👌👌 mmm and I've just realized how good you are at capturing a character's pov, like Atsumu's was on the money for capturing the confusion and unsettling feeling and it was so effective i feel like 👀😳 @ hinata now lmaoo
I WAS THE LAST ASK TALKING ABOUT POVS BUT I FORGOT SOMETHIIINGG. DAICHI'S POV. DAICHI'S POVVVV 👏👏👏 I could feel myself feeling his frustration and anger (I wanted him to whip oikawa's ass so bad fr) and his piecing together of things made me feel so awful and anxious, but like in a good way!! Writing is suppose to make you feel things and your fics always, always accomplish that 🤍
ahh nonnie, thank you so much! i like to get inside of the character’s head and fuck with their emotions and stuff, it’s super fun so i’m glad you guys enjoy it!! ily!! <3
oo Hinata as a yandere is so scary bc he's so sweet and caring. BUt he's also sincere and earnest about everything and who's to say that passion won't carry into darker activities 👀
you get it anon haha. he’s honestly a little terrifying but i still want him to spit in my mouth y’know??
i just finished reading insidiuous--it was FANTASGTIC SHDFJDSHFJ the way that atsumu crossed a line he couldn't come back from and was just,,,, rightfully consumed with shame for it?? that was great. also loved reading how hinata knew what he was doing and was doing it purposely, but poor reader. my heart goes out to reader.
thank you so much, bby!! i’m glad you liked it <33 
God, you have no idea how much I loved Rabid. I read it probably like 5 times in a row the first time. How do you imagine what happens to reader afterwards? I wonder if he’d end up taking her back to his place, or how does he interact with her afterwards? I’m sorry if this is annoying, I’m just so in love with the story 🥺💕
ahh thank you so much! as for what happens afterwards, you’re definitely kyoutani’s girl. if you think he’s just gonna let you go back to your place, keep working your job, you’ve got another thing coming. he tries to be gentle. a good boyfriend. he’ll definitely pick up on you shaking after he’s finished up; but he’ll misinterpret it as you being cold and make you wear his jacket haha.
Have u permanently closed commissions?
not necessarily, just taking a break :))
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wheresmynaya · 3 years
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Lost in the Lights Ch.2 | Brittana
Okay so I’m breaking routine here by posting another chapter so soon but I’m just blown away by the response so far and I got excited. LIKE WOAH, I really thought I wasn’t going to reach many people with this bc like...sports. Guess we all just really love Brittana, huh?
Also, 9-0 baby! 😘
Available on ff.net (x) ao3 (x) 
No one is more surprised by the discovery of the Titans’ new quarterback than Santana. Actually, surprised doesn’t even begin to cover it. Santana’s flat out dumbfounded by the news.
Is it the fact that they’ve never had a female Titan, let alone a female QB? Is it the fact that she’s actually really good? Is it the fact that it’s Brittany?
Santana’s at a loss.
The blonde just didn’t strike her as the type to play such a rough sport. She’s like this walking ray of sunshine that irks Santana to no end and she’s only had to deal with her for like a week! No one would’ve ever guessed that Brittany was the one to lead the Titans to their first win but maybe that’s because there’s apparently this side of her that Santana just hadn’t seen yet?
Judging by the way Brittany dominated on the field, Santana had her all wrong.
Santana spends her entire weekend trying to stay on top of her tan before the Autumn chill sets in, but in between sips of cold sweet tea and scrolling through her social media feeds there’s Brittany. Again, she doesn’t know why the quarterback keeps disrupting her thoughts, but it seems like she can’t outrun the girl.
At the moment, Brittany’s everywhere Santana looks! Mainly on social media; one minute Santana’s liking a picture Quinn posted of them before the game on Friday and the next she’s being bombarded by shots of Brittany posing with her teammates. Mike and Sam basically make the same exact post with the whole New Year New QB, but what surprises her is that even Puck is on her feed doing the same thing!
To think that the guys would even allow having a female quarterback is beyond her, because the last time she checked they were all a bunch of sexist pigs. Then again, maybe Coach Beiste has finally taught them all a thing or two about respecting women enough to be okay with playing alongside them?
Santana has no idea.
It’s just crazy how this girl seems to have popped up out of nowhere and now Santana can’t get away even when she’s not at school. The weekends are sacred to her, it’s her time to relax and reset before having to deal with all the McKinley High imbeciles but seeing so much of Brittany has her thoughts running nonstop.
What’s worse is that Santana can’t describe why she’s so annoyed by it all!
\\
It isn’t until Monday rolls around that things finally start to come to a head.
The Titans’ recent win still seems to be the only thing anyone at McKinley wants to talk about, but Santana manages to evade all those conversations. She doesn’t know anything about the game other than the Titans have sucked for most of her high school career but she’s still obligated to cheer for them.
It’s a small price to pay when you’re a real winner. The Cheerios have way more titles and that’s really the only thing Santana cares about.
It’s all apart of her master plan to get the hell out of Lima once she graduates. With several National Championship wins under her belt, along with being Co-Captain since Sophomore year, Santana’s hoping it’ll help to expand her university options.
Although, she knows her future is practically mapped out for her – deep down she still has hope for a miracle. Until then, she just wants to make sure she’s well-prepared for anything which means retaining her position on the squad and making good grades.  
\\
Santana goes through the motions of the school day as usual, and as usual she fights the inescapable feeling of giddiness as she makes her way towards her final class of the day. She doesn’t actually mind the class – Miss Holliday is secretly one of her favorite teachers at McKinley – but she’s not the blonde that’s making her stomach fill with fluttery things.
She’s barely taken two steps into the room when she spots Brittany already sitting at their shared desk. She had been resting her chin in her palm looking bored as ever until Santana walked in. That’s when Brittany perked up and turned on her signature mega-watt smile.
It was getting harder and harder for Santana to scowl at the sight of it.
“Hi!” Brittany greeted happily as Santana took a seat next to her, “How was your weekend?”
It was always the same with Brittany, no matter what kind of look Santana threw her way. Brittany never seemed to be fazed by her grumpiness. She just took it in stride and continued to try and make conversation even if Santana never gave her much to work with.
Maybe that’s why Santana’s drawn to the blonde? She doesn’t scare easily unlike most at the school who wouldn’t dare be so persistent.
“Fine,” Santana answered with a sigh of indifference while she got settled and took out her binder and pen.
“Awesome,” Brittany nodded and picked up her own pen to start doodling, “I had good weekend too. I went to the park, did some chores around the house, hung out with some guys from the team and – “
The team caused a crack in Santana’s façade.
She looked to Brittany, trying to figure out how the girl sitting next to her was the same fierce player she saw Friday night. With the confusion and curiosity that’s been building ever since, the words just came tumbling out of her before she could catch them.
“You’re our new QB,” Santana stated but it sounded more like an accusation than an observation.
Brittany’s brows rose and a coy smile began to spread across her lips, “So you can say more than two words?”
Santana rolled her eyes at the sarcasm but even more so at how that smile made her stomach flip. She really needed to get her shit together.
“But yeah,” Brittany added coolly, “Seems like I am.”
Santana looked down at her binder, “You didn’t say.”
“You didn’t ask,” Brittany replied just as quickly.
Before Santana could get wrapped up in that giddy feeling again, she hardened herself. She was starting to see how Brittany could keep up with the guys on the team, the girl was quick and she had confidence.
Santana liked that…or whatever.
“Sup dudes!” Miss Holliday greeted the class as she strolled in just after the bell, “Is this Monday dragging or what?”
Some kids grunted in agreement. Brittany chuckled away and Miss Holliday smirked up at her.
“Awesome game, Chica!” Miss Holliday complimented as she walked down their row closest to Brittany. She held out her fist for Brittany to bump, “You kicked butt out there.”
“Thanks,” Brittany replied sweetly as their fists connected, “It was a team effort.”
“Spoken like a true leader. About time we got a little girl power in this school,” Miss Holliday nodded approvingly before moving down the row.
Santana watched Brittany giggle then get swept up in listening to Miss Holliday’s instructions for the warm-up activity. Again, Santana found herself in awe of how Brittany was the same girl who could break tackles and fire a football downfield. Brittany was friendly and soft and diplomatic, nothing like any of the guys on the team.
“You’re staring,” Brittany pointed out although her gaze remained on Miss Holliday now standing at the front of the class setting up the projector.
Santana doesn’t know why, but Brittany’s comment makes her cheeks burn.
She was glad when one of the kids closest to the door was asked to turn off the lights. In the darkness, she found some comfort and a little confidence. She was able to get a grip and act like a normal person.
“We’ve never had a female QB before,” Santana whispered. She had her pen in hand, trying to follow along with everyone else by doing the activity but her focus was elsewhere.
“So I’ve heard,” Brittany replied just as softly.
Santana didn’t know what to say next; this was the most they’ve spoken to each other thus far and she really didn’t know where the conversation was going.
What she didn’t anticipate though was fucking it all up with one sentence.
“Girls,” Santana breathed out and for some reason the word made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She didn’t realize she hadn’t said it in awhile, maybe not since seeing…  
Santana swallows hard at the memory trying to worm its way in. She pushes it to the back of her mind; now isn’t the time for it.  
“Girls,” She repeats herself with a steadier voice, “They aren’t supposed to play football.”
When Brittany looks at her, the friendly smile is gone and her pretty blue eyes are darker and fill with disbelief.
Santana knows she said the wrong thing the second the words leave her lips. It’s not exactly what she meant, but it’s too late to take it back now. Her words have already done the damage.  
“Huh,” Brittany scoffs and averts her eyes back to her work, “Didn’t expect to hear that coming from you.”
Santana frowns – mostly out of guilt – but her instincts have her on the defense, “What’s that suppose to mean?”
She watches Brittany’s jaw tighten before she’s turning to look at Santana again. Her brows knit together, “It means I didn’t think you were the small-minded type.”
Santana feels winded.
She’s been called many things in her life and has heard some creative insults aimed at her, but never has she ever been called small-minded. She’s surprised by how much that one actually hurts. After everything she went through last year, after all the backlash, after having to deal with real small-minded people she feels a little offended. She can’t be lumped in with them. It’s not possible, because she’s…
The word gets trapped her throat and Santana has to swallow hard again to steady herself.
She isn’t like everyone else.
On second thought, maybe she is if she’s still saying something like that?
“I’ve always been told that those who can play the game well should,” Brittany tells her firmly, “I think I’m someone that can and judging by your team’s standings for the past three years, you could use someone like me on that field.”
Santana gulps. She can’t remember the last time someone at this school spoke to her the way Brittany is. It’s not a tone she’s familiar with, but she knows she deserves it.
“I don’t know you very well, but I thought – I don’t know – I thought you’d at least be a little more accepting than the hicks I’ve come across in this town,” Brittany continues, “I guess I was wrong.”
Santana’s lips part to defend herself, but nothing comes out.
Brittany doesn’t notice, “It shouldn’t matter if I’m a girl or a boy or a damn alien from outer space. If you can play – if you want to play – then you should, no matter what the sport is. Anyone that thinks otherwise is just…well, they’re stupid.”
The last word has Brittany’s voice cracking and the sound finally has Santana sputtering for an explanations, “I – I didn’t mean to – “
“You should probably just pay attention to the board, Santana.”
Santana bites her lip at Brittany’s clipped tone – that might’ve been the first time she’s ever heard Brittany say her name. She does as she’s told though. It’s best if she doesn’t dig herself a deeper hole.
\\
Santana spends the rest of the day mulling over Brittany's words. Even through Cheerios practice after school, Santana can’t seem to get her head on right.
Maybe she really has become a product of her environment? Maybe all the small-minded people she's surrounded by have somehow managed to rub off on her after all of these years?
That can’t be the case, can it?
She hates that she has to ask herself that. Usually, Santana’s not one to have any regrets or remorse once she spits out her vicious words but this time she finds herself backpedaling when it comes to Brittany. She wasn’t trying to be a bitch, it just sort of happened and for once in her life she feels kind of horrible about it.
\\
“You okay?” Quinn asks hesitantly after she dismissed the squad for a water break. Santana was meant to lead warm-ups today but Quinn seemed more eager to take over and Santana didn’t mind considering she’s so distracted.
“Yeah,” Santana shrugs, “I’m fine.”
“You’re quiet today,” Quinn notes, “You didn’t even laugh when Bec accidentally called Coach Sylvester sir.”
Santana tries to mask her worries and shrugs again, “She’s not that far off, have you seen Coach lately? Very mannish.”
Quinn smirks, pleased to seemingly have her best friend back, “So true.”
Just then Coach Sylvester blows her whistle and barks orders at the squad. Santana’s reluctant to move, but she pushes herself up anyway.
“God,” She groans as they walk over to the others, “I’m over this year and it hasn’t even started.”
“Same,” Quinn chuckles, “Let’s go make fun of the JV squad later? I hear they need a ton of work and their practices runs longer than ours because they suck so much.”
If it were any other day, that suggestion would have Santana eager to get a front row seat but even that doesn’t help. Still, she has to retain some sort of normalcy even if thoughts of Brittany are trying their hardest to disrupt that.
“I can’t wait to see that train wreck,” Santana quips and together, she and her best friend fall in line with the rest of the squad.
\\
The remainder of the week is more of the same: class, Cheerios practice, homework then repeat. The only thing that’s out of the ordinary for Santana is the icy, cold shoulder Brittany’s giving her now.
Or maybe Santana’s the one avoiding her?
It’s all minor details. What’s important is that they aren’t speaking to each other anymore and Santana’s starting to miss Brittany’s usual cheerful greetings.
She knows what she needs to do to fix this. It doesn’t make it any easier for her to actually do it though. To admit that she was wrong, to apologize for her words, to accept responsibility for her actions? Santana’s not use to most of that!
It’s a weird kind of tension though between her and Brittany, so Santana’s not sure how much more she can take. Instead, she steals sideways glances in the dark and hopes Brittany takes pity on her and makes the first move.
Brittany doesn’t and soon one week’s worth of silence ends up turning into two.
\\
Santana had every intention of making amends by last Friday’s game, but things just kept coming up. There’s class and Cheerios practice, but now she actually has to study for upcoming quizzes and assignments. She can’t fall behind again so once practice ends, Santana usually gets changed right away and heads straight for her car without even glancing in the Titans’ direction.
Is she using schoolwork as a lame excuse to avoid dealing with her shit? Of course, she’s a teenager. Procrastination comes naturally to her!
\\
Later that night, Santana sits with both of her parents at the table for dinner. It’s a rare occasion to have Maribel and Hector home at the same time, but that quickly loses its novelty when Hector starts to grill Santana on her studies.
“Papi, it’s only the third week,” Santana gently reasons.
“And?” Hector gives her a stern look, “You need to stay on top of things, Santana.”
It’s a simple sentence, but Santana feels like there’s way more beneath the surface. Sometimes it’s hard being the daughter of a successful doctor whose father was also a doctor and his father before him. There is a long line of them in the Lopez legacy and that looms over Santana like a dark cloud, especially now that she’s in her Senior year.
It’s gone without saying whose footsteps Santana will follow, but it’s still a lot of pressure for her. It’s only a matter of time before her dad begins to lecture her again about college and the importance of good grades and extracurriculars while her mom tries to elevate some of that stress.
She’s never met two people who show their love for someone so differently.
“Don’t put too much pressure on her,” Maribel says and squeezes Santana’s hand from across the table lovingly, “You’re doing fine, mija.”
Hector frowns at his wife, “Fine isn’t enough. You think any of these Ivy League schools care about fine? Of course not. They’re going through thousands of applicants a year and fine doesn’t stand out. Fine doesn’t get into Harvard.”
Maribel narrows her eyes at his rambling.
“Don’t give me that look,” Hector huffs but his voice softens as he looks to Santana, “You know what I’m talking about.”
Santana can already guess what he’s about to say. She’s heard it so many times before.
“You can’t get complacent, Santana. You have a lot to make up for,” Hector adds just as Santana knew he would, “Especially after the year you’ve had.”
“That’s an understatement,” Santana mumbles as she pushes food around on her plate.
“What was that?” Hector raises a challenging brow.
“It’s nothing,” Santana dismisses and smiles reassuringly at her dad, “I’m on top of everything this year, Papi. I promise, you don’t have to worry. I won’t disappoint you.”
When Hector matches her smile, Santana feels a little relief even if it only lasts for a moment.
\\
It isn’t until they’re nearing the end of the third week of school when things on the Brittany-front begin to shift for Santana. They still aren’t speaking to each other, but the blonde practically pops up everywhere she goes – if not physically, then someone’s bound to be talking about her.
After securing a second win for the Titans, Brittany has quickly climbed the ranks on the popularity ladder. The buzz around her grows, but what’s odd is that despite her obvious talents and annoyingly charming smile the students of McKinley have mixed feelings about her.
More importantly, about having a female quarterback.
On her walks to class, Santana has overheard the murmurs of doubt in Brittany’s abilities. Some are frustrated at how a new kid was able to dethrone Finn Hudson who has been leading the team all of her high school career. Some think Coach Beiste is getting soft. Some think it’s all a hoax, but Santana doesn’t really understand that one.
Regardless of how they feel about her though, Brittany’s still able to part crowds any time she walks down the hall. It doesn’t look like she pays them any mind, but Santana’s been wrong about her before.
But with popularity comes the irritating gossip mongers and Santana happens to overhear Brittany’s first encounter with McKinley’s most annoying: Jacob Ben Israel.
\\\\\
Between her morning runs, class, football practice, weight training, homework and helping out with Pete, Brittany’s having a hard time finding a moment to relax. She should be use to the hectic schedule by now, but making the change from her old school’s system to Lima’s is throwing her off a little. The school days start earlier, football practices run later and the work is a little harder than she use to.
Then there’s everything going on with Santana and that might be the most frustrating.
For nearly two weeks, they’ve kept this thing between them going. Did Brittany overreact by saying what she said? She doesn’t think so. Maybe Santana didn’t think what she said to her was a big deal, but to Brittany it was. The things people say to her in Lima aren’t anything knew, but that doesn’t mean she’s immune to their sting.
Most times, she’s able to ignore them but it just hits differently when she hears the utter disbelief coming from a fellow female. It’s like, whatever happened to empowering and uplifting each other? Did Santana not grow up listening to the Spice Girls? Has she never watched She’s the Man? Bend it like Beckham? A League of their own?
It’s so irritating because she can’t even ask Santana, the girl avoids her like the plague! The only time they’re ever close enough is in English class and that’s only because they have to share a table.
\\
Brittany’s tired and achy and she’s so wrapped up in her thoughts as shuffles through her locker for her textbook for next class that she doesn’t notice she is no longer alone.
“Brittany Pierce!” Brittany hears someone say and the sound makes her flinch, “You’ve become quite the celebrity.”
She leans back slowly and peeks around her locker door to find a rather dorky looking guy with a huge cloud of hair. She notices the mic in his hand next and is instantly confused.
Is she on tv?
“Who are you?” She asks and glances around unsurely for a camera.
“Jacob Ben Israel,” He says and holds out his hand for her to shake, “Some call me JBI for short. I’m McKinley’s #1 source for news and the hottest gossip.”
Brittany shakes his hand; it’s grossly warm and sweaty as hell but she’s not surprised judging by the look of him. He certainty isn’t dressed like a journalist or one of those news reporters she has seen on tv.
She can hear her dad’s voice in her head chastising her for judging a book by its cover so she gives JBI a polite smile, “Oh okay. Nice to meet you.”
She goes to turn back to her locker, but JBI is quick to start the questions.
“So you’re the first female QB here at McKinley High. You’re new to the school and you’re the first to ever bench Finn Hudson and you’ve already led the Titans to their second victory this year. Hoping for a third this Friday?” JBI pauses and holds out the mic for Brittany.
She clears her throat, she’s not sure where the camera is so she just looks at him, “Of course. There are a lot of really great players on the team and I’m confident we can win a lot more games this season.”  
“Awesome,” JBI replies enthusiastically, “A winning streak isn’t something a lot of the students here have experienced. You’re off to a great start this year. You’re bound to be nominated for Homecoming Court!”
Brittany almost laughs at that.
She’s been nominated at her old school before – even won a couple times – but that’s because she was voted for by her peers, peers who have known her for years. She doesn’t expect any nomination this year, the only reason anyone knows her is because she plays football. If she were to be nominated, it wouldn’t be because she’s well-liked or something like that. It would be because she sticks out like a sore thumb.
“Sounds cool,” Brittany replies despite disagreeing with him.
“So tell us,” JBI’s voice takes a dip. It’s sneaky, almost mischievous, “Would you rather be crowned the King or the Queen?”
Brittany’s stomach flips. She doesn’t like this interview thing anymore.
“What?” She asks because the question confuses her but she finds him wearing this sly grin like he’s just found her weak spot.
He hasn’t, but Brittany’s guard instantly goes up.
“Don’t be shy,” He coaxes with the wag of his brow, “You know what I’m talking about. You’re a female QB, no way you’re strai – “
“Hey!” Suddenly Santana’s there, of all people, and there’s fury in her eyes as she shoves JBI’s mic to his chest, “Fuck off.”
Brittany blinks like she’s caught in a daydream. Her eyes shift from Santana to JBI whose grin widens upon seeing the Co-Captain.
“Now this is a pairing I’m sure everyone would love to see,” He says as he talks into the mic again like nothing’s happened, like Santana isn’t about to beat him over the head with it. He looks to the camera – the kid’s been lingering over Brittany’s right shoulder thus far – and says, “It’s the infamous Santana Lopez, gracing us with her presence.”
Santana rolls her eyes, “I’m not gracing you with shit. Your little show sucks.”
“That’s not what my viewer count says. I’m sure you remember,” JBI quips as he turns back to the pair, “So Brittany, you didn’t answer the question.”
Brittany feels like a deer caught in the headlights; she can’t even remember what the question was, but thankfully Santana interrupts again.
“I said beat it, loser, before I shove that camera so far up your dumb ass you’ll be spitting out polaroids,” Santana snaps.
To Brittany’s surprise though, JBI doesn’t move right away.
“That doesn’t make sense, we’re not even using that kind of cam – “
Santana grits her jaw and takes a threatening step forward. Her voice dips low and gravely, “Try me, Jewfro. Please. I’ve been itching to kick you square in the nuts.”
That threat has JBI reaching to protect his crotch before he turns and runs down the hall with his camera-friend following him.  
Brittany watches Santana smirk like she’s so proud of herself for being able to instill the fear of God in someone before she’s averting her gaze. When her stormy brown eyes land on Brittany, the blonde feels a cold chill.
The smirk’s gone and in it’s place is a familiar scowl. Brick by brick, her wall goes up.
“I know you’re new here, Pierce, so a little word of advice,” Santana warns as she turns to the lockers, “Don’t talk to him. He’s a wannabe journalist that reports nothing but bullshit. He’ll twist your words if you let him, trust me. I’ve seen it happen many times and I don’t want you to get caught up in his shit.”
Brittany’s at a loss for words.
Santana hasn’t spoken to her all this time and now all of sudden this? Why would it matter to Santana what she did or said or who she spoke to? Why would she care, she doesn’t even know Brittany?
There’s so many questions beginning to swarm her, but none make it out of her head.
“Thanks,” Is the only word Brittany ends up saying around a shy grin.
There’s a hint of smile on Santana’s lips when their eyes catch for a quick second, but it disappears just as fast.
“It’s whatever,” She says and Brittany hears a locker door slam, “I’ll see you in class.”
It isn’t until Santana’s halfway down the hall that Brittany finally realizes that their lockers are right next to each other’s. She can do nothing but laugh at the small coincidence.
\\
The second time Santana speaks to her, it’s because Brittany accidentally scared the crap out of her.
It’s Thursday now – the last day of practice before the Week 3 game – so Brittany wants to get a jump on warm-ups. She knows there’s a thirty minute buffer between Cheerios and Titans practice, but she has to account for the extra time it takes to pick up her gear from Coach Beiste’s office first since everything’s stored in the boys’ locker room.
Usually, she gets the whole room to herself and plays a little music from her phone to get amped up. This time though, there’s one Cheerio that’s already there and this particular Cheerio surprisingly has a beautiful singing voice.
Brittany feels like she’s being lured in by one of those sirens she has read about in Greek mythology. She thinks she should probably make her presence known because creeping around a locker room is kind of weird, but she’s so in awe of the girl’s voice.
More importantly, the owner of that voice.
“Jesus!” Santana gasps when she rounds the corner to find Brittany lingering by the hampers. Her hand flies to chest to steady her beating heart, “What the hell are you doing, Pierce? Trying to give a girl a heart attack?”
Brittany thanks the heavens when she finds that Santana’s fully clothed already.
“I’m sorry!” Brittany blushes, “I didn’t think anyone would be here.”
Santana just shakes her head before eyeing Brittany again. There’s a flash of concern when Santana says, “You look like shit, worse than yesterday when I saw you with JBI.”
Brittany’s not sure how to take that. She hasn’t been sleeping well, that’s for sure, but it worries her that her tiredness is beginning to show. At least, that’s what she hopes Santana is talking about.
“I’ve been super busy lately. Guess I’m just ready for the weekend,” She says instead as she fumbles with the shoulder pads in her hands, “Sorry for interrupting you.”
“Interrupting me?”
“Yeah, you were singing. It sounded really pretty.”
“It’s not a big deal,” Santana brushes off before crossing her arms over her chest, “Why are you in here so early? Doesn’t your practice start at 4?”
“Why are you in here so late?” Brittany challenges, “Didn’t your practice start at 3:30?”
Santana cocks her head to the side, “I had to talk to Ms. Pillsbury about something.”
“Who?”
“She’s the guidance counselor. You’ll probably meet her soon, she’s on all the Seniors about their college application due dates. Figures, she’d want to start off with me.”
Brittany wants to know more. Afterall, she’s naturally curious when it comes to getting to know new people so the questions build but she doesn’t voice any of them. Not that Santana would give her any answers anyway.
Santana’s looking at all the gear Brittany’s toting along with her duffle bag and her brows furrow, “Did you carry all of that here?”
Brittany looks down at her gear and nods.
“Why?” Santana scrunches her nose, “Don’t you have a locker or something?”
Brittany shakes her head, “I was never given one. Coach Beiste said Coach Sylvester is meant to assign one to me, but I guess she’s been busy.”
“Doubt it. She hates Coach Beiste so in turn, she hates you.”
Brittany frowns; what’d she do?
“She’s probably just giving you a hard time because you’re a Titan instead of a Cheerio,” Santana answers then walks off. She goes to grab the clipboard that hangs above the hampers, dangling from it is a key, “I can assign you one, it’s part of my Co-Captain privileges. This side is reserved for the squad, obviously, but the set by the showers are all free. You can leave your football stuff there too, doubt anyone in here is going to want to steal it.”
Brittany’s taken aback by Santana’s random act of kindness for a second time that week. She let’s her smile shine, “Thanks. It really helps having everyting in one place. I don’t have to waste so much time walking back and forth.”
Santana nods and there’s that hint of a smile again before she’s leading the way over to the section of lockers that’s now become Brittany’s.
“Top or bottom?” Santana asks as she scans the list attached to the clipboard. Brittany smirks and notices the moment Santana realizes what she has said, “As in locker preference.”
“Duh,” Brittany jokes with a straight face, “What else would you mean?”
Santana’s face is flushed now and Brittany tries her hardest not to laugh. She’s kind of cute when she’s flustered like that.
“I’ll put you down for top,” Santana answers stiffly. Now her eyes are solely glued to the clipboard in her hands, “I guess I can unlock the bottom one too though so you can have the entire segment. You can – uh – decide which you want to use or whatever.”
“That works for me,” Brittany replies casually before she starts to undress.
Santana practically runs into a wall when she sees Brittany pull her top up over her head and let it drop onto her open duffle bag.
“I’ll just leave you to it then,” Santana calls over her shoulder as she scurries off.
Brittany watches the whole thing curiously. Has Santana never changed in front of other girls before or something? That’s the only explanation she comes to for how awkward she’s being.
Brittany doesn’t dwell on it, just continues getting dressed.
\\
By the time Brittany’s got her practice gear on, Santana appears again. She looks a little shier than before and she’s fiddling with her hands.
Brittany just smiles and reaches down for her helmet, “You going now?”
“Yeah,” Santana answers, “Just trying to enjoy the last bit of A.C.”
“It’s not that hot out,” Brittany chuckles and motions to her pads, “At least you don’t have to wear all this.”
“True,” Santana smirks, “Now that would suck.”
Brittany chuckles again. She likes this version of Santana, she hopes she can see her more often but there’s still a giant pink elephant in the room so Brittany doesn’t get too excited.
“I’ll see you out there I guess,” Brittany says.
Santana nods and turns to leave, but then stops and turns back to face Brittany again.
“Actually, I just wanted to say,” Santana starts.
Brittany wonders if this is it. If she’s finally going to get an apology after what Santana said to her the other week, or at least the start of a conversation about her opinion? Anything would suffice by this point.
Brittany waits.
“I just wanted to say,” Santana repeats and her voice is so shaky. It’s completely unlike the confidence she possessed when she told off JBI, “Have a good practice.”
It’s not what Brittany was anticipating her to say – and judging by the uncertainty on Santana’s face, it wasn’t what she was anticipating to say either – but she’ll take it.
“Thanks,” Brittany grins as she walks by her to leave, “You too.”
\\
By Friday night, Brittany’s feeling better than she has all week. Although they’ve yet to acknowledge Santana’s misjudgments, baby steps in the right direction have been taken.
Kind of.
First Santana defended her against JBI then on Thursday she assigned Brittany a locker and today? Today Santana brought her a drink from the Cheerios special lounge while Brittany was getting ready for the game.
“What is it?” Brittany asked hesitantly as she eyed the color of it. She’s sitting on the benches in the locker room completely dressed now in her uniform. All that’s left are the final touches like a quick dance party to get her pumped and applying a little Game Day eye make up.
“It’s a bunch of healthy stuff like fruits and veggies. All fresh so that explains the color, no preservatives. There’s some vitamin supplements in there too,” Santana explains like it’s all a bother.
Brittany’s beginning to see through that though.
“I don’t take drugs,” Brittany replies and tries to give the bottle back.
Santana rolls her eyes and there’s that hint of a smile again, “Does Vitamin D count as a drug? If so, then Puckerman is definitely on something stronger.”
Brittany frowns at the accusation, “Wait, seriously? The team can get in a lot of troub – “
“Easy, Pierce, I’m sure he’s just all-talk,” Santana amends, “I wouldn’t open an investigation on him or anything.” Then there’s a pause and for a second she looks a little shy as she motions to the bottle in Brittany’s hands. Her voice comes out softer, “Drink that. It’ll help with the tiredness and it’s good for your immune system too incase you’re about to come down with something.”
“You think I’m getting sick?” Brittany chuckles and turns back to apply thick black stripes to the apples of her cheeks.
Santana lifts a shoulder casually before standing, “You almost fell asleep in class today.”
Brittany blushes. Did she really? She’s so tired, she can’t even remember.
“What does that have to do with getting sick?” Brittany wonders.
“It’s almost that time of the year and bugs move quick,” Santana explains, “A lot quicker if you’re not taking care of yourself…for example, not getting enough sleep.”
That takes Brittany by surprise. Santana caring about her? Why? But despite the surprise, Brittany feels warm and fuzzy all over.
“Alright Doc, I’ll drink it,” Brittany jokes as she finishes up drawing on the left stripe. She turns to Santana as she twists off the lid and makes a show of taking a long drink.
Santana actually laughs this time before she shakes her head.
“I feel better already,” Brittany beams as she stands. They’re close now and it’s then that Brittany really notices the height difference, “Thanks for this. What do I owe you? Pressed juices like these probably cost an arm and a leg here.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Santana dismisses and takes a step back to put some distance between them, “Just bring home another win.”
“You got it,” Brittany winks and goes to take another swig while she watches Santana leave the locker room.
\\
Unfortunately, it’s a rocky start this time for the Titans. It’s not that Brittany isn’t playing at her best because she always brings 110% to the field no matter how she’s feeling. It’s actually her teammates who aren’t as focused as she is for some reason. There’s still a lot of work to be done when it comes to being a cohesive unit, but today they’ve really taken a step back.
They’re down by 17 points when the half is called.
\\
“Alright, what’s going on out there?” Coach Beiste questions. She’s fuming as she eyes everyone for an answer, “What I’m seeing is that Pierce is the only one here that’s come to play.”
Karofsky scoffs and folds up his arms, “I’m so over hearing about her!”
“Me too!” Azimio chimes in, “First we let in Hummel and now her? What’s next? She gonna join the Puck Heads in the off season and change the game for them too? The rest of us are chopped liver now. It’s not good for my reputation!”
“Your reputation? You were a loser just like the rest of us before Brittany came,” Mike replies but the two don’t take kindly to being called a loser and start shoving at him.
“Cut it out!” Sam tries to breaking it up.
Brittany looks over at them and grimaces. Dave and Azimio both have been a pain in her ass since she’s joined the team, but she thought they were past this by now? They’ve got a winning record, they’re actually improving on being a better team, so what’s the issue all of a sudden?
Coach Beiste shakes her head at them, “Give me a break! One person doesn’t win games. You don’t have to like Pierce but you’re going to give her your respect if you want to play on my field. It’s as simple as that. You work together, you listen and respect each other. That’s what it means to be a team, is it not?”
Brittany eyes her teammates. Aside from the select handful that actually like her, the guys look at her like she’s the enemy. It makes Brittany feel really unsettled.
“Is it not?” Coach Beiste presses.
There are mumbles amongst the squad but it’s not enough for Coach Beiste.
“Louder!”
“Yes, Coach!” They say in unison.
“Okay then, let’s starting acting like a team out there and win this game!” She says with the clap of her hands.
\\
They’re in the fourth quarter now and the Titans have managed to make it a close game despite their rough start. Coach Beiste’s pep talk must’ve worked because the team is playing harder than the first half, but Brittany still senses the undertones of resentment.
She packs it away for now and just focuses on making plays. Afterall, she’s meant to be winning this one for Santana. Well not for Santana; it’s more like paying her back for the drink earlier.
Brittany nods resolutely and looks to the sidelines to see the Co-Captain shaking her pompoms. She does a high kick and yells out a cheer in time with the others, but the smile she’s wearing is what catches Brittany’s eye.
She shakes her head and focuses on the snap.
“Down!” Brittany calls out. She catches the other team’s Line Backer’s movement from the corner of her eye. The defense looks hungry, but so are they. She smirks and braces herself, “Hut!”
The ball is snapped and Brittany quickly hands it off to Puckerman. So far their run game has been pretty weak tonight, but Puckerman surprises everyone and kicks into gear. He plows through the defense at full speed, breaking tackle after tackle, until he crosses over for a first down and steps out of bounds.
He spikes down the ball and makes a sawing motion with his arm while the crowd goes wild. Matt runs up to congratulate him with a hard pat on the back.
“Yes!” Brittany jumps up and down as she cheers.
Over on the sidelines, the Cheerios are just as excited as they chant:
“First and ten, first and ten! First and ten, let’s do it again!”
Brittany sees Santana watching her with a huge grin and it makes her feel warm all over again. She knows it’s silly to think that Santana’s cheers are just for her – same goes for that smile – but she can’t help but dream.  
Yeah, she’s decided. She’s really going to win this game just for her.
Brittany quickly runs up to their new line of scrimmage and everyone starts to take their position. She smacks Puckerman on the back when he jogs up next to her to get in formation.
“Nice carry, Puckerman!” She compliments.
“Sawed right through them!” Puckerman shouted excitedly back.
“Let’s keep up that energy,” Brittany praised and called out another play. They were in field goal range now, but like always – Brittany wasn’t here to play it safe especially with the new set of downs.
This time she wanted to try another play-action route since it worked pretty well in the pre-season game. Mike and Sam have proved to her that they have great hands, but they needed to work on their speed and timing. Now was a perfect time to test that. With Puckerman on a roll, the defense was sure to up their coverage on him rather than the receivers which would work perfectly in Brittany’s favor.
“Blue 82!” Brittany repeats and looks to her sides for confirmation that they’ve picked up the slight change.
Mike and Sam give her the barest nod before they’re glaring at their defenders. Brittany kicks up her foot and Mike quickly changes position so that he’s next to Sam now on the right side of the field.
“Blue 82!” Brittany calls out again and readies herself for the snap, “Down…Hut!”
The ball is hiked and she fakes the hand off to Puckerman so smoothly that the defense follows after him just as planned. While they chase him down to the left side of the field, Mike and Same cut up the right. Brittany holds onto the ball longer than she likes, making sure she gives her receivers enough time to breakaway from their defenders.
The other team’s Line Backer is trying his hardest to break through her O-Line though. Thankfully, Matt ends up making a key block for Mike and Brittany’s able to step up in the pocket and fire down a quick pass. It’s a little lower than Brittany wanted, but Mike makes the catch and pushes past a defender for another first down!  
Everyone went wild, but the play clock was still going since Mike hadn’t made it out of bounds.
Brittany motioned for everyone to hurry into position – this time she was going for a slant route with Matt being the intended receiver. She kept her eye on the seconds ticking away, but the team was able to make it in time to get set.
“OG 30!” She called out. She was really starting to feel that adrenaline kick in but she kept her cool and held out her hands, “Down…Hut!”
Again, Brittany caught the ball and dropped back as everyone began to move. Despite the grumpiness during half time, the guys that made up her O-Line – mostly Dave and Azimio – did their jobs correctly and held the line. Brittany looked to her right and faked a throw before turning to her left and firing at Matt.
He juggled the ball in the air, but ultimately was able to secure possession of it and ran up the side of the field for an easy touchdown!
“Let’s go!” Brittany pumped her fist in the air. That was their best drive all game and now with the new points on the board, they’re finally up by 6! With just a little over ten minutes left in the final quarter, Brittany’s feeling good about their odds in coming away with another win.
\\
She was right to feel confident; Titans end up winning the game 27 – 21. When the final whistle was blown, everyone was cheering and some of her teammates rushed to congratulate her efforts. She happily returned the sentiments, but she couldn’t help but glance over at the sidelines to see if Santana was watching her again too.
And she was, alongside Quinn and the rest of the Cheerios.
Brittany just grinned as she pulled off her helmet and let down her hair, happy that she was able to make good on her promise to Santana.
\\
Despite how great she felt after Friday’s win, Monday morning was a different story.
Everything hurts and she was so exhausted that she didn’t even go for her usual morning run which is telling because she’s one of those rare people that actually works well with routine exercising. She guesses all those late nights studying combined with her patchy sleep schedule have finally taken its toll on her body.
She thinks back to what Santana said Friday about getting enough rest. God, she hopes she isn’t coming down with anything. Getting sick is just not what she needs right now.
“Hey mom?” Brittany taps on Whitney’s bedroom door. The curtains are already drawn and welcome in the morning sun so she knows her mom’s awake already. Whitney appears in the doorway of the master bath in her work uniform and instantly looks worried.
“You feeling okay, kiddo?” She asks as she crosses the room to press at Brittany’s forehead.
“I don’t think I’m sick, but I feel horrible,” Brittany explains.
“Yeah, you don’t have a fever. Have you been getting enough sleep?” Whitney asks.
Brittany shakes her head. Whitney eyes her with concern.
“It’s not the dreams again, is it?”
Brittany shakes her head again, “No. I haven’t had one since the last time I told you. I think I’m just worn out.”
“You’re a busy girl,” Whitney nods.
“Is it okay if I stay home today?” Brittany asks hesitantly, “It’s the only day of the week that I don’t really need to be at practice. I think I can access most of my schoolwork online so – “
“It’s okay, Britt. Just rest today,” Whitney says, “Missing a day isn’t going to break you and I know you’ll catch up when you’re feeling better.”
Brittany fills with relief and gives her mom a weak smile. She’s so happy that Whitney’s so understanding, but she guesses that’s come from experience with everything that happened at the beginning of the year with her dad’s passing. Many mental health days were taken, but Whitney never made her feel bad for it. If anything, she always encouraged them.
“Thanks mom,” Brittany says before taking herself back to bed. She’s able to fall asleep fast for once and she doesn’t wake again until she has to use the bathroom.
\\
When she wakes up the third time, it’s just after three. She sees a text from her mom saying that Gran has Pete and she’ll pick him up once she gets off of work so that Brittany can continue resting.
She smiles and sends a text back to thank her before getting up. After a quick snack and a big glass of OJ, Brittany heads to the couch for another nap.
This time, sleep doesn’t find her as easily as it did the other times so she turns on the tv and tries to find something to watch. She decides to put on something she considers boring in hopes that maybe it’ll bore her right to sleep.
Miraculously, her plan works and she settles in for another nap.
An hour or so goes by when Brittany begins to stir because Pete’s trying to squeeze onto the couch next to her. His cold feel touch her bare ankles beneath her blanket and she flinches at the feel.
“Honey, what did I say in the car?” Whitney whispers, “Let your sister rest.”
“I am,” Pete pouts, “I just wanted to sit with her.”
“How about you come help me with – “
“It’s okay, mom,” Brittany pushes to sit up. Pete instantly beams at her, “I’ve slept enough I think.”
“Feeling better?” Whitney asks and brushes her hand over Brittany’s wild hair.
She nods and does a little stretch, “Much better.”
“Good to hear,” Whitney says and bends down to press kisses to Brittany and Pete’s head, “I’m going to make dinner then. Just leftovers so it shouldn’t take long.”
When she heads off for the kitchen, Pete snuggles in closer to Brittany.
“Did you get to watch cartoons all day?” He asks curiously.
Brittany shakes her head, “Nope, but I did take many naps.”
“Nice!”
“Totally.”
\\
Brittany and Pete are watching tv together a moment later when Brittany hears a knock at the front door. Pete jumps up at the sound and rushes to see who it is.
“Don’t open that door, Peter!” Whitney calls out from the kitchen, “Let your sister get it.”
Pete pouts and hangs back as Brittany moves to get up. She chuckles and ruffles up his hair as she passes by. When Brittany takes a peek, she’s shocked by what she sees and quickly opens the door.
“Santana?” Brittany greets. She’s both confused and pleasantly surprised.
“Who are you?” Pete asks curiously with his head tilted up at the Co-Captain.
“Hi,” Santana smiles kind of nervously as she glances between the two. She’s dressed in her Cheerios warm-up gear – she must’ve just finished practice – and has her binder tucked under her arm.
“Uh…I’m Santana,” She answers softly, “And you are?”
“I’m Peter!” Brittany’s brother holds out his hand to shake, “Everyone calls me Pete though, so you can too if you want.”
Santana quirks a brow at him but smiles as she shakes his hand anyway, “Nice to meet you, Pete.”
“Pete, can you go help mom?” Brittany instructs. She waits until he’s run off then asks Santana out of disbelief, “What are you doing here?”
“You weren’t in class today,” She says.
“Yeah…I didn’t feel well.”
“Didn’t I say you were going to get sick?” Santana smirks.
“I’m not sick,” Brittany sighs, “I was just tired.”
“Right,” Santana keeps the smirk and motions to her binder, “Well, I brought you the work you missed. It’s kind of important for the paper due in a few weeks.”
Brittany just blinks. Maybe she’s still asleep and this is all a dream?
“Here,” Santana offers and goes to flip through her binder for a couple handouts to give to Brittany.
The blonde accepts them although she’s still trying to grasp the fact that Santana’s standing on her doorstep, “Thanks.”
“Sure,” Santana nods and it looks like she’s about to turn away.
“Wait. How’d you know where I lived?” Brittany quickly asks before she can run off.
“Mike told me,” Santana shrugs, “Actually, Mike told Quinn and Quinn told me. Apparently you two are neighbors?”
“Yeah, he likes to tell everyone that,” Brittany chuckles before she gets a sudden burst of confidence and asks, “Did you…want to come in?”
“Uhhh,” Santana looks unsure but then she gives Brittany a small smile, “Okay.”
Brittany opens the door a little wider and leads Santana into the living room. She pushes the blanket she brought down from her room to the side so they can both sit on the couch. Brittany starts to flip through the packet Santana gave her and she’s already dreading the assignment.
“Woah,” Brittany gasps, “This is a lot.”
“Yeah,” Santana nods, “I can help you with it though if you want? Miss Holliday said we can work in groups if we wanted, but we’ll be graded individually.”
Brittany blinks blankly again, “Huh, that’s funny.”
“What?”
Brittany just shakes her head and shrugs, “Just the other week you were insulting me then you stopped talking to me for awhile and now you’re being super helpful. I just can’t get a read on you.”
Brittany wasn’t trying to make Santana feel cornered, she just wanted to open up the conversation. She was over ignoring the obvious, so she went straight for the kill and brought it up head on.
Santana’s shoulders dropped, “Look, I’m…I’m really sorry about that. I was so out of line.”
“Yeah, you really were,” Brittany replies but she isn’t trying to rile Santana up by being argumentative, “You know how many times I’ve heard something similar over the years? Ever since I started playing sports it’s always been: you run like a girl, you throw like a girl, you’re pretty good…for a girl.”
Santana looks apologetically at Brittany and goes to fiddle with her hands in her lap. Brittany notes the familiar motion and decides its something she does when she’s nervous.
Brittany adds, “Like being a girl that plays sports is somehow less than, like it’s a bad thing. I’ve never understood it. I’m just as good as they are.”
Santana shakes her head, “No. I’ve seen you play. You’re so much better.”
“Thanks,” Brittany chuckles weakly, “You know, when I first started I wasn't trying to make some big statement. I didn't want the pressure of being the first female whatever, I just wanted to play. And my family, they've always been super supportive no matter the sport, especially my dad.”
Brittany feels the lump in her throat slowly start to form at his mention and takes a deep breath before speaking again.
“He use to come to every game. But people are so stuck on how I've disrupted their precious norms and it makes things harder than they need to be. No matter where I go, the people will either love me or hate me for this. It's crazy. I'm just a girl who loves playing football, why's that so odd?”
“It’s not,” Santana reasons, “You’re a good different, a kind of different a place like this needs.”
Brittany smiles fondly at Santana’s kind words, “Then why did you say what you did?”
Santana pauses for awhile trying to find the right words but in the end she just shakes her head and sighs, “Probably because I’m a bitch?”
Brittany flinches, she doesn’t think that’s the case.
“You’re just…you’re not what I imagined. I thought football players were rough and you’re not like that at all. You’re soft, delicate. You treat with kindness.”
“So does Kurt,” Brittany offers kindly, “And Mike, Sam too.”
“You know what I mean,” Santana replies.
“Yeah, I do. It’s called a stereotype,” Brittany smirks, “Football players happen to come in all shapes and sizes though. Some are soft and delicate like you say I am and some aren’t, but out on the field we’re all the same. We’re one team.”
Santana nods, “I’m sorry about what I said. You have every right to be on that field, same as the guys. I’m sorry if I made you feel otherwise. I guess I’m still trying to adjust too. It’s not really something you see here…”
“I accept your apology,” Brittany grins.
Santana lets out a deep sigh, “This town can be so old school sometimes and it sucks how there are younger generations out here that don’t know any different. They don’t see how wrong it is to have such a shit mentality. I guess I forgot what progression looks like until you came.”
Brittany knows Santana’s being genuine now and it makes the wait for this conversation worth it. She goes to joke, “Well it’s a learning process. Now you know for the next time you come across someone who doesn’t fit the status quo.”
“Yeah,” Santana matches Brittany’s grin, “I really do.”
“Well hello,” Whitney greets as she enters the living room. She glances between Brittany and Santana as Santana rises to her feet. She stands up straight and proper, “You going to introduce me to your friend, Britt?”
Brittany gulps at the label. She doesn’t know if she’d call Santana a friend just yet.
“This is my mom Whitney. Mom, this is Santana,” Brittany says while Santana gives a polite smile, “We have class together. She was just bringing me some work I missed today.”
“That’s so kind of you,” Whitney compliments Santana.
“It was nothing,” Santana replied and glanced to Brittany, “I tried to warn her about the risks of over-doing it. I can’t imagine having a schedule like hers.”
Brittany’s brow rises at the overly polite tone. Who knew Santana was a little suck up when it came to parents. She smirks as she watches it unfold.
“Stubbornness, she gets that from her dad’s side,” Whitney jokes, “Would you like to stay for dinner? We’re just having leftovers but there’s plenty to go around.”
“Lasagna!” Pete cheers as he runs in from the kitchen.
Santana chuckles but shakes her head, “Thank you, but I should probably get home before my mom starts to worry.”
Whitney nods, “Of course. Well, it was lovely meeting you. Come on Petey, let’s make our plates.”
When they both wander off, Brittany’s again standing alone with Santana in the living room.
“So you’re a kiss-ass,” Brittany jokes, “Never would’ve guessed it.”
Santana rolls her eyes despite smiling, “I have a thing with parents. They love me, okay?”
“Sure, sure,” Brittany giggles, “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone that you’re secretly kind. Wouldn’t want to ruin your rep.”
“I appreciate it,” Santana quips playfully before gathering her things, “Well, I really should head off before my mom starts blowing up my phone.”
“Cool,” Brittany nods and leads the way over to the front door to walk Santana out, “Well. Thanks again for bringing over the work I missed.”
“No biggie,” Santana waved off as she turned to leave, “Glad you’re feeling better. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” Brittany waved and watched Santana make her way over to her little red Mazda with a pleased smile.
Maybe they weren’t exactly friends yet, but compared to the downward spiral they’ve been experiencing…they weren’t enemies either.
And in football terms, that’s called forward progress.
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spideyspoods · 5 years
Text
illusions (ffh spoilers)
Pairing: Peter Parker X F!Stark!Reader A/N: tumblr needs to get their act together because this is the SECOND (2nd) time i’ve posted this. i edited the tags and everything on it DISAPPEARED. anyways i hope you like this despite my obvious anguish bc this is one of my favs so far.
Warnings: Mentions of death, manipulation, angst if you look close, and depictions of action sequences.
Word Count: 3k
Masterlist!
Y/N Stark was on a plane to Venice all because of her boyfriend, Peter Parker. She thoroughly convinced herself on not going for the main reason being that she wasn’t sure if she would enjoy it because of everything that came before, including her Father’s death. Peter knew that, but he also knew that she deserved a break. After using the infamous Parker Puppy eyes, she packed a suitcase and chose a window seat next to him. “How was your Spider-Man appearance last night?” she teased with a knowing smile. His Aunt May hosted a charity event and in efforts to gain more awareness, and invited Spider-Man over to say a few words. Peter bit his tongue, remembering how awful it was. “I only said four words but I think I nailed it!” Sadly, Y/N could see through his lies. “It could’ve gone much worse! Oh that reminds me, apparently Nick Fury tried to call me-”
“Wait really? What’d he say?” She shifted in her seat, using Peter’s jacket as a blanket. “I don’t know I didn’t answer it.”
“You’re joking. Peter he’s going to tear up the city looking for you now!”
“I just wanted a relaxing vacation for once!”
“That’s out the window now that you ghosted him are you kidding me?” Y/N knew from personal experience that leaving Fury hanging was the quickest way to death. Peter had a point, but she knew that this was inescapable. Peter frowned, not realizing how much of a big deal it was. “He’s probably going to call me instead. Don’t be shocked if he’s one of the flight attendants, Parker. I warned you.”
--
After eight hours, the group had finally landed in Venice. After setting their bags down in their ‘charming’ hotel, the class had an hour to kill on sightseeing. On the plane, Peter had been memorizing certain Italian phrases to help conversation flow smoothly, but for the most part it made things worse. As they were ordering gelato, he stumbled over his words. Y/N tried to stifle a laugh over his poor pronunciation, before speaking for him. Peter was shocked as Y/N continued taking in the sights.  “You didn’t tell me you speak Italian.”
“I can’t reveal all of my secrets at once,” she winked. Peter looked down, chuckling before shooting his head back up and looking to her. “What? Is it the ‘Peter Tingle’?” Usually he’d make a deal out of it, but this time he just simply nodded and ran towards the canals, Y/N following closely behind.
Water gushed up, raining down as it soaked everyone. “What the hell is that?” Y/N stood up analyzing the scene. “It’s some sort of hydro man? Get everyone out!” she pointed her finger towards safety, leading everyone away from the danger. Ned was one of the last ones to flee, but she stopped him. “Make sure nobody sees me and Peter, got it?” He nodded, “Has anyone ever told you that you’re the definition of power couple?” She rolled her eyes and smirked at the comment before seeing Peter crashing into the bridge. Y/N ran to him, pulling him to his feet. Ready to fight, they saw a trail of green smoke contain the monster.
Left and right, buildings crumbled. Peter was at the bell tower, webbing everything up to minimize the damage while Y/N stood low, scanning for any openings. With one final green blast, the water erupted one more time before disappearing. All of them finally had time to catch their breath. The mysterious man hovered closer to them and spoke, “Thanks for your help. I think we’ll see each other soon.”
--
Once they had dried off, Peter & Y/N took a seat on the stairs of the hotel lobby. On the small TV in the corner, Italian reporters displayed footage of what had happened moments ago. “They’re calling him Mysterio, man of mystery or something.” MJ remarked.
“I’m just trying to wonder why he has a fishbowl on his head and a cape. That’s poor costume design right there,” Ned said making everyone laugh. With a look of disinterest, Flash crossed his arms. “Yeah but he’s no Spider-Man.” Y/N gave a look to Peter who stayed silent, “You’re right. Spider-Man is much cooler.” Flash’s eyes lit up with excitement, as if he were a child again. “You’ve met Spider-Man?!”
“I thought that was a given. The Avengers are practically my family.” she spoke softly, trying not to let her emotions get the best of her.
“No way! What’s he like?”
“He’s great and super funny. Not to mention he’s kind of cute.” Peter coughed, trying to cover the fact he was blushing. Flash on the other hand didn’t buy it, “He can’t be that cute. You’re dating Peter out of all people.” Y/N simply glared, sending a chill down his spine.
--
Ned & Peter resigned to their shared hotel room. Just as they entered, Peter’s best friend was shot down by a tranquilizer dart, crashing to the floor. He jumped, turning to see Nick Fury sitting on the small couch. “You’re a hard man to track, Spider-Man.” Shit. Y/N was right. Then again, when was she not?
After a few disruptions he was taken to an underground base to discuss the threats in private. Y/N stood next to the same man they saw earlier, whose actual name was Quentin Beck. “I told you that he’d find you.” Y/N muttered. Beck continued to explain his dilemma. “I come from earth, just not your earth.” “Are you saying that there’s a multiverse because that’d be insane! Actually impossible, that would change the way we think of time and space as we know it!” Peter continued to ramble, before being met with a bored glare from Agent Hill. Quentin looked at the boy with empathy, “Hey. Don’t apologize for being the smartest one in the room.” Y/N knew that it was true, hell the kid was a brainiac, but something felt off about the man. He had taken an interest to both of them and seemed very enthralled. Despite his backstory, it felt as if it was too coincidental to be true. Essentially the mission was to stop the most powerful Elemental in Prague, but it meant ditching their class. Y/N had her fair share of missions already and insisted on going while Peter was reluctant. Fury stayed silent for the rest of the meeting, handing Peter a glasses case before dismissing both of them.
The next morning, Mr. Harrington gathered all of the students for an announcement. “I know the itinerary says that we’re going to Paris, but the travel agency called and offered us a deal to go to Prague instead!” The class cheered while Peter’s face looked pale. Y/N stood next to him, taking his hand into hers. “We need to get some more rest on the bus, we have a fire monster to kill.”
--
Hours later, Y/N & Peter were in position. They sported their new suits, that were essentially the same thing they were used to but just black to stay incognito. Y/N perched on a tile roof opposite of Peter. There were small crowds of people, mingling amongst the square. Seeping through a metal grate, molten began to pour out. “It’s showtime.” As the lava monster began to form, everyone sprung into action. “Make sure that it doesn’t touch any metal, that’s how it grows!” Y/N eyes darted to the ferris wheel where she spotted Ned & Betty stuck at the top. She stuck her hand out, moving the entire ferris wheel away from the fire elemental. Y/N had telekinesis as a result of a mission gone wrong, and only used it in emergencies.
The monster roared, chasing Peter up the wall as he flipped away. He webbed up a metal pole and jumped, yanking it away from its reach. Quentin took a hit at the monster, only making it even more furious. The battle seemed to have reached a dead end, as it inched closer and closer to the ferris wheel; leaving everything ablaze. “Kid, hold it back!” Y/N put all of her strength into pushing away the elemental, but it was just too strong. She yelled in pain, giving it her all. “That’s it, I’m going in.”
“Beck, what are you doing?” Peter screamed.
“What I should’ve done before!” He ran into the creature, engulfed in flames. The monster tore apart and shattered apart, turning into ashes. Y/N collapsed on the ground at the sudden loss as Peter ran to her, making sure she wasn’t hurt. “Hey hey hey, we did it. Are you alright?” She slowly got to her feet, panting. “I think so? Where’d he go?”
Quentin stirred, before standing back up. “I think I need a drink. Come on, let’s go.” Y/N and Peter looked to each other, “We’re underage.” “What about it?” He continued to walk away, taking his helmet off. Y/N took notice of his face before placing a hand on her boyfriend’s shoulder, “You should go with him, I think I’ll sit this one out, make sure that everyone knows we’re okay.” He squeezed her hand before following after.
--
Y/N peeled off her suit and freshened up. Her legs were covered with cuts and she spent a while recovering. There was a knock at her door to reveal MJ & Ned. She beckoned them in, locking the door. MJ raised a brow to the suit. Y/N never told her, but she trusted her friend enough to see it. “Something just doesn’t add up. I feel like I’ve seen him before.” She tapped her watch to display a hologram. “SID, do we have any files on a Quentin Beck?” SID, or ‘Stark Industries’ Database’ was her father’s final gift to her.
From a young age, Y/N always had an interest in technology and innovation, something she inherited from her father. Even if it were past her bedtime, Tony would sneak her into the lab; projecting constellations onto the ceiling. He would point out each one and tell stories about what they meant. As little Y/N began to nod off to sleep, he would whisper “I love you more than the sun and stars, pumpkin.” Despite being tired, she always had the energy to respond. “But the sun is a star.” As she grew up, it became their inside joke. Smart kid but a smarter mouth, Pepper would say. When her father passed away, he left a note and the watch. On the band, ‘I love you more than the sun and stars’ was engraved in silver letters. Y/N struggled sometimes, but felt at ease once she knew he was always with her.
SID continued to sift through as Ned marveled at the technology. “Y/N that’s why I came here. I found this at the battle. Looks like some piece of a robot, maybe a drone?” MJ handed her the sleek white machine part. Turning it over in her hands, it whirred to life and projected a scene identical to what happened at the battle. “What the hell,” she whispered.
“One match to Quentin Beck, former Stark Industries employee.” SID chimed. It didn’t take long for her to realize what was happening. “We need to get Peter.” Y/N rushed to the door, before hearing her window slide open. Her boyfriend took off his mask, freezing at the sight of MJ. “It’s fine, she knows. Listen, babe, I need to use EDITH real quick.” His mouth hung open as he tried to find the words, “It’s with Quentin.”
“Why the hell does he have it?”
“I gave it to him!”
“Peter Benjamin Parker, you’re going to be the end of me! That was his plan all along!” Y/N rubbed her temples. “What’s going on?” Ned gestured to SID and the drone piece when Peter realized he messed up big time. Y/N slipped into her suit, turning away from anyone. “Wait, where are you going?” Peter held her arms, worried. “I need to tell Fury, he’s in Berlin and we don’t have any time to waste.”
“I’m going with you!”
“You can’t. If he worked with Stark Industries then I’m the one he’s after.”
“That makes no sense, he’ll hurt you,” he frowned as tears started to form in his eyes. He couldn’t lose her too, especially if he knew that it was his fault. Y/N cupped his cheek in her hand, pressing a lingering kiss to his lips. “No. He won’t. MJ and Ned, tell Mr. Harrington I had family matters to attend. Peter, Happy will pick you up to keep you updated.” They all nodded and Y/N grabbed her mask before opening the window. “I love you,” Peter said.
“I love you too.” Just like that, she was out and after Quentin.
--
A few hours later, Y/N arrived to the sleek building where Fury was supposed to be. She was still dressed in her suit, but wasn’t phased. There were bigger problems to face. A black car eased towards her as she stopped in her tracks. The tinted windows rolled down, showing Fury in the driver’s seat. She slipped in as he drove off, beckoning her to stay quiet before she started talking.
As soon as they made it into a conference room, the worried girl started talking at lightning speed catching him up to date along with Maria. “So you’re saying that Mr. Beck isn’t who he says he is? I’ll admit, I had my doubts about him.”
“He’s a total fraud after power and lies. Here I have this as proof!” She slid the drone piece in their direction. “We have to act fast. Let me go after him, I’m the one he wants anyways.” Nick kept his stone cold glare and before either of them speak, their surroundings flickered and disappeared. “He’s here.” A drone threw an explosion in their direction, as Y/N dived to protect him. She seemed to phase through the ground, landing on her back in a concrete warehouse. “Wow, Y/N. Just when I thought we were finally bonding. I knew Fury had to die, but now you’re convincing me that you need to go too.” Y/N spun around, drones appearing out of thin air surrounding her. “Stop hiding, you coward!”
Her surroundings shifted into a pitch black room, Mysterio inching towards her. “You know, you’re just like your Father. That arrogant son of a bitch only did what he thought would help himself.” Y/N threw a punch at him, only to realize that it was a solid concrete pillar. She winced, seeing Morgan standing at the top of Stark Tower, confused. “Y/N what’s happening?” Her head pounded and she couldn’t see straight. “Stop it!” Beck stood behind her little sister, the ground disappearing as they fell. It seemed endless and she couldn’t wrap her head around it until she crumpled on top of a car. Drones whirled over her head, taking her into another vision. She stretched out her arms, desperate to move them away but they only grew closer.
“You hide behind your Father’s lies, thinking that you Starks are so high and mighty. I’m here to show the truth!” Y/N stood upon stone, a statue of Mysterio looming over her. “Mysterio is the truth!” The weathered stone crumbled, suffocating her. Y/N gasped, face covered in dust and blood. “You’re the reason why your father died, don’t deny it.” His voice echoed into a hollow room. In front of her was his tombstone. Her breath hitched in her throat, before a decaying Iron Man suit took her into a chokehold. She had tears in her eyes, but remembered that it wasn’t real. It shifted once more, this time Tony laying against a rock. The light in his eyes were long forgotten. “You failed me. You’ll,” he stammered “never be enough.”
“Dad!” she reached for him, and closed her eyes. “This isn’t real.”
“Oh, but isn’t it?” Y/N stood on a fire escape 100 floors high as Peter gripped to the edge. “Y/N please,” he pleaded. His eyes were bruised and nose bleeding. “Peter!” The floor creaked and her heart thumped. “Y/N help me!” She grunted, pulling him up. “You’re okay,” she whispered pressing her forehead to his. His eyes turned red, “I never needed you.” Peter pushed her back as the illusion dissolved, and into a speeding train.
She tried to yell, but couldn’t bring herself to breathe. Barely clinging on, she had split vision. Slipping through the train door, Y/N slipped into unconsciousness and away from everything.
--
Peter wasn’t able to focus at all the entire day Y/N was gone. Ned tried his best to distract him with Star Wars anecdotes, but even that didn’t work. During lunch, he saw Happy talking to his teachers before motioning him to follow. Peter got into the jet, Happy not taking a single second to waste. “What happened? Where’s Y/N? Is she okay?”
“She’s in Broek op Langedijk-”
“What? Where is that? How close are we?”
“Netherlands. We’re an hour out, but she’s alive don’t worry-” Peter scoffed, pacing in the jet. “How am I not supposed to worry? I love her and she can be on the verge of dying right now-”
“Peter-”
“I knew I should have gone with her-”
“Peter! I’m going as fast as I can, but I need to concentrate. I care about her too, okay? We just need to try to calm down, can you do that for me?”
--
As soon as they touched down in a field of tulips, Peter jumped out. Y/N’s eyes were bloodshot and her arms scratched. There was a red stain on her neon orange shirt that she definitely wasn’t wearing when he last saw her. “Y/N thank god you’re okay-” he took her into a hug, only to be pushed away. “Stop it! Get away from me!” He raised his hands up defensively, and felt sharp pain seep through his heart. He had fought villains and had been on the verge of dying, but even that didn’t hurt as much as this.
“Y/N, please.” She was taken back to the moment Quentin messed with her mind. His voice was exactly the same, making the battle in her mind even more difficult to fight.
“No, no. You’re not real!” He stepped closer to her, reaching for her hands. In his grasp, she made fists; trying to hit him. Y/N’s voice trembled, “Let me go! Come on, Beck! Tell me how I failed everyone I know!” She looked him dead in the eye. This wasn’t the Y/N he knew. Now, she looked so weak; something she had never been before. “I’m not Beck, Y/N I swear. I’m here for you and I want to help you.” His eyes were glossy, the girl he loved didn’t want anything to do with him anymore. “Promise me that you’re not some sort of illusion!”
“Y/N I promise!”
“What’s something only Peter & I would know?” He immediately thought back to their first date a year ago. “Okay on our first date I got you flowers, but I didn’t know you were allergic.” Y/N seemed to ease up as he continued. “After you recovered, we went to the fire escape. I told you I love you, even if it might have seemed to early but I told the truth,” Truth, Quentin’s voice echoed in her mind.  “We kissed and May saw us! Remember, she dropped the snack platter?”
Y/N ran into his arms, sobbing. He kissed her and wiped the tears away. Peter took her face into his hands. He whispered words into her ear, stroking her back. “You’re real. You’re here.” He pressed another kiss to her forehead. 
“Yeah, I’m here. I always will be.”
--
Thank you for reading! Feedback is appreciated, but not required! My requests and taglist are open! :)
Taglist (sorry for the notif AGAIN): @parkeret @savedbystark @harrysbbby @cutiepiemimi13 @leelee--thebaek @softrdj @happylittlesuns @lovertony @anolddayslover @astromilku @ninja-boss-barbie
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unfamiliarize · 4 years
Text
The adult human who can't raise his own child for a few hours a day is the problem.
Two threads by Mikki Kendall on Twitter that are giving me life and making me think this morning, with my favorite replies quoted:
Thread 1
“This article makes no sense to me. Why would you stay with someone who won't work or do childcare? Why would you give up your career? The adult human who can't raise his own child for a few hours a day is the problem.” ... “Help me understand because I can't find his purpose except to be a millstone” “Because women tell each other that hubby can’t/won’t do (insert normal parenting here) and teach others that it’s NORMAL. If anyone criticizes it then they aren’t being sympathetic to the realities of marriage. THEN they will twist into a pretzel to insist hubby is a GOOD DAD+“... “because of any little thing he manages to do. Why? ‘Because the kids love him!’ Well yes Cassandra, the kids will lap up even the smallest scrap of attention bc they’ve bonded with their parents and you’ve taught them that a bare minimum dad is enough.“ “As long as childcare and housework are considered things men do to “help” women, we will never have equality. You both had the kids, you both raise ‘em. Periodt.“ “Then these men be at the courthouse talking about 50/50 custody when they’ve never patented these kids a day in their lives.“
“I put up with this for YEARS because everyone around me told me I was the one being too demanding. We were on and off welfare for a decade because he wouldn’t work, and I couldn’t keep a job because he wouldn’t watch the kids. I finally wised up, but it wasn’t easy.“
“There is a reason why I asked my husband when we started dating about how he felt about housework. If he had said anything BUT "I will do half because I also live there" I would have dropped him. Same thing about child rearing.“ “She probably wouldn't have to work 70hrs a week if her husband was working too...“ “I feel like she is going to burn through the life savings taking care of her family and then he leaves her.” “I can't speak for her but from my own personal exp. I am Codependent from childhood abuse/trauma. Didn't know I'd been abused until about 5 yrs ago. Didn't know my ex was also abusing me until after I left. Someone on the thread for the article pointed out there's likely” ... “emotional/financial abuse going on in this woman's rel. 1. Getting kid to interrupt work calls. 2. Sabotaging her co. So yeah. I worked my ass off to earn love from my lazy selfish abusive ex bc of a lot of issues I didn't realize then. It's a whole lotta mess.” “The fact that the framing of this story makes it sound like the lack of daycare is the problem, instead of, oh I don’t know,the lazy bump on a log man child that refuses to take care of his child, is crazy to me.“
Thread 2
“Y'all do you know the static a mom with no job would get if an article about her wanting her husband to shut down his company & take over childcare ran right now? She's need a whole new identity“ ... “I have been a working mom for the majority of my adult life. People have always felt free to ask me who was with the kids while I traveled for work. The idea that their Daddy was there was still blowing minds in March when I went to NY. March. 2020. For kids who are 14 & 20“ ... “People ask me what they'll eat while I'm gone like every person  in my house can't cook. I don't understand why people are acting brand new about that article, but that woman is in a terrible relationship & the devil in her house doesn't deserve sympathy“ ... “Motherhood doesn't have to be martyrdom. Marriage isn't a place to sacrifice yourself. I know people will insist that it's inescapable, but divorce laws exist and I promise you life is easier as a single parent than as one with human millstone around your neck“ ... “"But Mikki, you don't understand, what if he doesn't want to be a good partner or parent? I can't make him." You're right. You can't. But, this is why divorce attorneys exist. And let me tell you another secret, your kids can learn not to interrupt you 12 times & to do chores“ ... “But first, that whole grown adult that needs parenting to be a facsimile of a partner? Fire. Them. Give yourself that gift. My divorce was one of the best decisions I have ever made. And listen I love the Husbeast. But that love has a lot to do with him being a real partner“ ... “The idea that he would even want me to sacrifice my career is just so outside of our dynamic. But if he did? I can tell you I'd be single again. We paint divorce as failure, but honestly if that relationship doesn't work? Kids would rather be from broken homes than live in them.“ “She might not even be aware she's being abused. Plus there's trauma bonding where you're literally addicted to the abuser. I was in a similar situation (except owning a co.) & didn't know I was being abused until after I left.“ “They have rental property(ies) and he also sold a business. Yet, he has no work pressures and did not want to lighten her burden with parenting duties.  The statement she chose to be a mother when she always was a mother is problematic.  Working did not cancel her motherhood.“
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ktophers · 5 years
Text
I am dedicating this fic to @unlucky-mage who has come up with the best pregame Shuichi headcanons, which heavily inspired my characterization for him in this fic. I am also dedicating this fic to @lovely-luminary bc I love their pregame Kaito headcanons and those also heavily inspired my characterization for him in this fic. Thank you both for being so incredibly valid, ur headcanons really helped me out while writing this. And especially thank you to Tate bc I’ve never really written Shuichi properly before but ur headcanons r what inspired me to give it a try. Also I know I’ve already dedicated this fic to two people lmao but shoutout to @golden-redhead bc I love the way she writes the saioumota dynamic and her fics always make me want to write them myself. The title of this fic comes from the song No Better by Lorde, and I’d highly recommend u give it a listen bc it’s underrated and perfectly matches the aesthetic of the first half of this fic. Anyways, thank you for reading and I hope y’all enjoy this fic! The pregame boys r Soft and not creepy, and abusive pregame content needs to stop right now and that’s that on that!
Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19257478
But I Kiss You Like A Lover
Saihara Shuichi is Kaito’s first kiss.
The chapter three finale of the 52nd season of Danganronpa has just finished airing an hour ago, and reruns of past episodes play at a low volume from Shuichi’s shitty TV as he theorizes.
Kaito is only half-listening; the episode had been interesting enough, but he likes to save the analysis shit for Saihara and Ouma. Instead, he focuses on watching Shuichi gesture as he speaks, his hands enthusiastically emphasizing his sentences even as he nervously eyes the ground.
There’s something beautiful about him when he gets like this, this intense focus.
It’s one of the reasons Kaito had kept coming back to the boy’s side, even after he had chased away those bullies of his for good. Shuichi was far from the first person he’d saved from being harrassed, but he was the first person to shyly promise to pay Kaito back by recommending him a good book to read afterwards.
Shuichi brings a hand up to remove his cap and wipe off some of the sweat collecting on his brow before smoothing back his hair and affixing the hat back in place, not once pausing in his speech as he does so. Kaito kinda wishes he’d wear the cap less often; he understands the other boy has trouble with eye contact and doesn’t want to push him, but Kaito thinks it’s a real shame considering how pretty his eyes are.
Shuichi turns away from Kaito to point out some hint he had noticed in the episode to Kokichi, tugging on his sleeve as he does so. His fingers are delicate and just a bit shaky, like he’s so excited he can’t possibly express it entirely through words or broad gestures.
Last week, Ouma had insisted on painting everyone’s nails as the three of them sat together on Kaito’s roof and tried to escape the sweltering heat of summer. Now, Kaito gazes at the already-chipped black polish on each of Shuichi’s nails and the evidence of his terrible habit of biting them that he and Ouma have been trying to break forever. The leftover color on Shuichi’s left thumb could almost resemble a heart, if Kaito tilts his head just right.
Shuichi glances back to Kaito as he continues. “… And, I also thought, it was kinda romantic, the way he had confessed to her right before he died, don’t you think?” Kaito tries to remember exactly what had happened at the end of the episode; truth be told, he had been a bit preoccupied with watching Shuichi’s reaction instead of paying attention to the plot.
He couldn’t help it; it was one of the few times Shuichi kept his hat off for longer than a few seconds, clutching at it excitedly as he watched his previous theories come to fruition. His hair framed his face so nicely when it was loose like that, and it was especially cute when Shuichi tucked it behind his ears to better see the TV.
“Really, you think so?” Kokichi chimes in, and gives Kaito a pointed stare before continuing. “I think it’s more romantic when the characters confess before they die. That way, they get more time together, you know?”
“Yeah,” Kaito finally contributes, his voice just a tad too loud. Shuichi startles a little bit, eyes flicking up to scan Kaito’s expression for a moment. Kaito isn’t looking at him right now, though; his gaze is trained on the three piles of paperwork sitting on Shuichi’s desk, identical except for the signatures scrawled out on each page. “Yeah, you’re right, ‘Kichi.”
Kaito would never consider himself the sharpest tool in the shed, but he also knows for a fact that they’re running out of time. This summer will end, differently than every summer before it has, and this bubble that the three of them have been containing themselves in will pop; gone will be the hushed conversations held huddled together on Kokichi’s ratty futon, gone will be the nights spent fixated on the TV screen in the dimness of Shuichi’s small room as they sat closer together than necessary, gone will be the sunsets watched from Kaito’s roof and the constellations they’d made up together.
Come the end of this summer, they themselves will be gone in every way that matters, buried underneath false memories and new personalities. Kaito wonders if they’ll hate each other. Kaito wonders if they’ll kill each other. He knows that he needs that prize money more than anything but he also, quite desperately, wants to fossilize all three of them as they are now, mummified by both the summer heat and their unspoken intimacy.
Kaito doesn’t like thinking that deep about shit though; it’s not like him to get all poetic. They’ve already auditioned, already been selected, and like hell is he gonna let Kokichi and Shuichi go into a killing game without him, even if they do end up being the death of each other.
So instead, he swipes a thumb over his own bloodied knuckles self-consciously before leaning forward and cupping Shuichi’s face.
“Wha- Kaito-kun?” Kaito pauses for just a second; it’s now or never. He squeezes his eyes shut tight and presses his lips against Shuichi’s.
The other boy’s lips are chapped and the brim of his cap knocks against Kaito’s forehead unpleasantly. The sensation still sets off fireworks in Kaito’s stomach; the feeling of Shuichi slowly relaxing in his grasp and shakily settling a hand on his shoulder only increases the sweetness of the moment.
Kaito leans back and smiles, grinning wide like an idiot. Shuichi brings a hand up to his mouth, a blush rapidly spreading across his cheeks as he stares at Kaito with wide eyes.
In the background, Kaito sees Kokichi give him a thumbs-up, before he lunges across the bed towards Kaito and knocks him backwards, kissing him, hard, energetic where Shuichi was tentative but still so, so good. The smile does not leave Kaito’s face for the rest of the night, as they all curl around each other and attempt to fall asleep together on Shuichi’s twin size mattress.
Ouma Kokichi is Kaito’s first kiss.
The boy is weak in his arms, eyes still somehow frighteningly lucid even as his body shakes and shivers and tries to expel the poison that has settled in his veins.
“Hey… At least I wasn’t boring, right?” Kaito is breathless, due to both his own illness and the inescapable sensation of tragedy filling every inch of the hangar.
“No. No, of course you weren’t boring.” Kaito doesn’t know what else to say, if he should admit to the boy that he’s one of the most interesting people he’s ever met, if he should tell him that the only time he ever truly forgot about this shitty situation they’ve been placed in was when he was chasing him around like an idiot.
“Hey, Momota-chan? Do me one last favor?” Kaito nods, afraid to hear what his voice will sound like if he speaks right now.
One of Kokichi’s small hands reaches up to grip onto Kaito’s collar, and the boy yanks him down with a surprising strength.
The kiss is good. The kiss is metallic and bittersweet and terribly messy, and it’s good. There’s a certain sort of familiarity to the other boy, in the way he fits just right in Kaito’s arms, in the way that he knows exactly how to tilt his head so that their noses don’t bump. Kaito wonders what it would have been like if they’d gotten to do this more than once. Kaito wonders what it’d be like to share a lifetime with the other boy without the scent of blood clinging to their skin.
He supposes it’s probably best that even his imagination won’t let him think too deeply about that scenario; he doesn’t think he’d be able to handle it right now.
When Kaito finally places Kokichi down on the press, he tries once more to look at the boy and see him as nothing more than an enemy. He tries to conjure up that same hatred that Kokichi had inspired in him so many times before.
“Thank you, Momota-chan.” Without any cameras left to witness him, Kaito finally allows himself to let out a sob. “Can you tell Saihara-chan… Well, nevermind. Even if he doesn’t figure out that I believed in him, I’m sure you’ll do enough of that for the both of us, right, Momota-chan? No need to ruin my image right before my death is revealed.”
Kaito somehow manages to bark out a laugh even through the tears welling up in his eyes. “Of course. Shuichi’ll see right through us; I’m sure he’ll do his best to help us out.”
Kokichi gives Kaito one last smile. “See you on the other side, hero. Put on a show for me out there, won’t you?”
Kaito nods, and leans down to place a kiss on Kokichi’s cheek.
He just hopes, desperately, stupidly, that the pressure of his lips on the other boy will somehow outweigh the pressure of the hydraulic press.
Momota Kaito is supposed to be dead.
In his first lifetime, he grew up too poor and too angry for anyone to give too much of a shit about his well-being; if he got into fights and ruined all his chances for a future and died young, well then, that was his own fault.
In his second lifetime, he was too untouchable for anyone to realize he needed to be saved; his hero’s grin was blinding enough to distract from his pain all the way up until his illness had finished destroying him, and if he got into stupid fights and burned himself out before he was able to grow old, well then, that was his own fault.
Momota Kaito should be dead, and Shuichi and Kokichi are both endlessly glad that the other boy is much too stubborn for that.
“You’re an idiot, you know that, right?” Kokichi leans up on his tippy-toes to brush another kiss against Kaito’s jawline.
“What the fuck did you just call me-” Shuichi gently grips Kaito’s chin and presses a kiss to his mouth before he can continue arguing.
“Both of you, quiet.” Shuichi’s fingers are still a little shaky, but his eyes are focused and his actions are determined. Conversely, Kokichi’s hands are just as energetic, but everything about him is more precise, more deliberate.
“Aww, Saihara-chan is no fun!” Shuichi leans back and gives Kokichi a patient look that is just bordering on exasperated, before Kokichi takes advantage of his separation from Kaito to latch onto the other boy and kiss him soundly.
Kaito just watches, pleased with this turn of events. They’re both beautiful, and Kaito can’t stop thinking about their own little apartment that’s waiting for them when they get out of here. He made sure their new place would have access to the roof when they were trying to decide on where to live; he’s even already bought a telescope so they can properly take a look at all those constellations they’d named together.
As they had each signed the lease for their new apartment, their signatures familiar and yet still noticeably different, Kaito had finally known that the past was slipping away into a new summer, a new future, free of any bloodstains and full of possibility.
“Ouma-kun, we really need to finish packing.” Kokichi just sticks his tongue out at Shuichi and throws the nearest article of clothing haphazardly into their suitcase.
Kaito is positive that this time, they’ll get things right.
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socialdegenerate · 5 years
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Ficlet Request: Looking after Doppo?
I took a couple of ~60 min ficlet requests on Twitter, the third one being something I don’t even remember because I wrote 2/3rds of this in December and only finished it today because the new drama cd track made me REALLY SAD FOR MY POOR BOY
LET DOPPO HAVE SOMETHING GO RIGHT FOR ONCE, YOU ABSOLUTE  MONSTERS
(I was going to work on my Doppo/Jyuto but I couldn’t be even slightly mean to Doppo after the release of that new drama track)
Hasn’t really been edited bc I've been drinking.
Hypnosis Mic MatenrOT3 | Jakurai Jinguji x Doppo Kannonzaka x Hifumi Izanami SFW (a few mentions of dicks) 1,540 words
When Doppo was finally able to escape from the usual bar his boss had dragged the whole floor to after their final shift for the week, he was expecting to top off a bad night with a crowded train ride home and an uncomfortably staggered walk to the convenience store near his and Hifumi’s apartment to grab whatever hadn’t already been cleared out. Having to match the boss drink-for-drink was never fun, but his boss had been in a particularly sour mood that had led to a boozier night than usual.
Doppo certainly hadn’t been expecting to find Hifumi and Jakurai loitering in front of the bar, rugged up against the winter chill in heavy coats and scarves.
“Um,” Doppo said, barely remembering to step out of the doorway and not block everyone else from leaving. That seemed to catch their attention and they both looked up, Hifumi bounding up to him and Jakurai following slower with a fond smile on his face. “What are you guys doing here?”
“Well, we…” Hifumi trailed off, nervously eyeing the woman who had the desk next to Doppo’s as she left the bar and waved at them. He bounced back the minute it was obvious she wasn’t going to stop to talk, picking up exactly where he’d left off. “Figured you’d be tired and drunk, so we came to pick you up!”
“It’s going to take forever to drive home at this time of ni-”
“I prefer a little traffic to thinking about you being crushed on the train after the week you’ve had,” Jakurai said, the gravity in his deep voice making it sound like an inescapable fact of life. “Hifumi took the night off work and insisted on making dinner for us, so we decided to pick you up and eat together.”
“And it’s your busiest night!” Doppo exclaimed, turning to Hifumi and just barely remembering that it probably wasn’t a good idea to grab Hifumi’s hands in public with his coworkers and boss floating about. “What if you lose your ranking?”
“If one night off is enough to let those wannabes take my number one spot then I never really deserved it in the first place. Besides, you’re getting worn down again so I wanna take care of my precious Doppo, okay?” Hifumi’s fingers brushed across Doppo’s wrist, quick enough for no one outside their little group to notice but it meant everything to Doppo.
“Okay,” Doppo said, too bone-deep exhausted and drunk to want to fight the care his boyfriends were trying to give him. “Let’s go home.”
Jakurai had somehow managed to find an empty parking spot in a small lot just a block down from the bar, Hifumi bundling Doppo into the car and turning the heater on while Jakurai paid to get out.
The drive home didn’t take quite as long as Doppo had been expecting, and it was much nicer to doze against Hifumi’s side in the quiet warmth of Jakurai’s car than it would have been to be crammed onto a train and then have to walk home in the cold. It wasn’t a luxury he could get used to, but even as a one-off event it made him feel loved and looked after.
When they got back to Hifumi and Doppo’s apartment, the heater had kept the place warm and welcoming; Hifumi immediately helped Doppo out of his coat and ushered him into the seat at the table that was closest to the heater. Doppo was too drunk to protest it, and before too long Jakurai and Hifumi had brought the food to the table and joined him there.
It was an easy dinner, Hifumi’s food as delicious as always and the conversation flowing naturally. They didn’t push him to talk about why his work had him so down, knowing he’d rather just forget about it; but they listened when he brought it up himself, and Hifumi’s suggestions were amusing if not exactly practical while Jakurai’s were actually helpful.
Jakurai cleared the dishes before Doppo could try to help and although Doppo figured that would be the end of it, he found himself being hauled to his feet by Hifumi and dragged to the bathroom.
Usually when all three of them were naked and in the same general vicinity Doppo was entirely up for what was going to happen, but he was swaying slightly on his feet and not even sure if he could pull himself together enough to actively participate in anything sexual. When he managed to say as much, though, Hifumi just laughed and prodded his shoulders until Doppo was sitting on the bathing stool.
“We can do that in the morning if you’re not too hungover, but for now you’ve gotta let us take care of you.”
“But you-”
“This isn’t about us,” Jakurai said as he finished pinning his hair into a messy bun and kneeled in front of Doppo. He easily caught the bottle of liquid soap that Hifumi tossed his way, squeezing some onto his hand and working it into a lather as Doppo heard Hifumi turn on the water and wait for it to heat up.
Doppo must have been more drunk than he realised, his cock trying and utterly failing to properly react to having Hifumi guide water down his body and Jakurai cover his wet skin in soap. He almost managed to get properly hard when Hifumi put the detachable shower head aside to shampoo his hair at the same time as Jakurai was soaping the inside of his thighs, but his alcohol-dulled body just wasn’t having it.
Jakurai didn’t seem to have any such problem, and neither did Hifumi when he moved into Doppo’s field of view to switch the shampoo for conditioner, but Hifumi caught Doppo’s hand in his own when he tried to reach out and touch. “Doppochin, this is for you, not me.”
Doppo mumbled something that might have been an argument, but it was hard to keep it up when he was feeling so very sleepy and Hifumi was massaging his scalp. Jakurai’s thumbs pressing into the sole of his foot made Doppo jump before he lost control and moaned, the dual massage on top of his drunkenly relaxed state too much for him to resist.
“That’s right,” Jakurai said softly, somehow working tension out of Doppo’s foot that he didn’t even know was there. “Relax, Doppo, you deserve it.”
Doppo was too drunk to work up the usual wave of anxiety that would normally tell him that he didn’t deserve it at all, instead just feeling an unbearable warmth well up in his stomach. He wasn’t sure how he’d managed to get two boyfriends who loved him more than he could ever realise, and he didn’t notice that he was crying until Hifumi laughed softly and ran a thumb under his eyes.
“You’re always such an emotional drunk,” Hifumi said fondly, folding his arms around Doppo’s naked body and giving him a tight squeeze. “Let’s get you rinsed off and into bed.”
The warm water running over him wasn’t quite as good as Hifumi’s hug, but it was close enough that Doppo caught himself drifting off. He could hear Hifumi and Jakurai talking over him- or maybe to him- and even though he tried to focus in on it, he could only let the gentle familiarity of their voices wash over him.
He felt too safe and loved and home to be able to wake back up, and he allowed himself be lifted easily off the seat and rinsed off one more time before he was covered with soft, fluffy towels that were obviously Hifumi’s obscenely expensive ones.
“He’s out,” Doppo managed to catch Hifumi saying, the words accompanied by a soft kiss to his damp hair. “Let’s get him into bed.”
“Hmphh,” Doppo said. He tried to help the other two get him to the bedroom but it definitely seemed more like they were carrying him, the weightlessness of his body feeling utterly strange until he was gently pressed into the middle of their mattress. He had a vague sense of movement around him and heard the unmistakable sound of kissing in the quiet room, but there was no time to be jealous when soon enough Hifumi was curling up on one side of him and Jakurai was pressed up against the other.
“I love you, Doppochin,” Hifumi said quietly, brushing some of Doppo’s hair behind his ear and leaving a quick kiss on Doppo’s lips. “Sleep well, beautiful.”
“I love you too,” Jakurai followed up. He wrapped an arm around Doppo’s waist and pulled him closer, Doppo feeling Jakurai’s voice rumble in his chest when he said, “You deserve the world and more.”
Normally he would have fought the sentiment every step of the way, not feeling like he was worthy of such naked devotion, but for once the gnawing worry in his mind was quiet and Doppo let himself fall into his boyfriends, alcohol and overwhelming comfort lulling him to sleep.
He’d have to do his best to make sure his boyfriends knew how much he loved them back, but that could wait until the morning.
For now, he simply let himself enjoy being loved.
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wehveechen · 6 years
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A Red Lamb: Urokai One-Shot
A little One Shot with Urokai bc I love him k. also posted on ao3!
This must have been the quaintest little shithole he has seen in at least twohundred years. He'd managed to escape Zarga's endless nagging and the constant annoyance caused to him by the 10th and 12th Elders. They shouldn't even be allowed to talk to him at all, these miserable worms! He vaguely remembered the world map, and if he was not wrong, he was somewhere on an island called Ireland. No one in the world would go and look for him here. Good, all he wanted was some quiet.
 However, this place did not alleviate his boredom. Urokai wandered through empty streets, the few people he saw averted their gaze in a sense of discomfort  - good. He didn't want to talk to anyone anyway. After about half an hour, he reached the largest building in the small town, an old church that must have stood here for longer than most of the other buildings. The heavy door creaked when he pushed it open and he was met with a draft of cool air coming from the inside. Dimmed sunlight fell through the windows of stained glass, throwing colorful specks of light on the floor and the columns. Other than that, the building was disappointingly unornate. Quite unlike the much larger cathedrals he had seen in other places. Still, the quietness of this place was one he could appreciate. Idly, Urokai strolled towards the row of candles that must have been lit at some point. Some of them seemed fresh while others had burned down almost entirely by now.
"  “You look a little lost, if I may say so. Can I help you?" Not a quiet voice, but a calm one. Slowly, Urokai turned towards the human who'd addressed him. Dressed in black, early thirties, he'd wager, tousled dark hair. He did not seem too angered over the visitor. Still, Urokai huffed, feeling insulted by the mere fact that a mortal dared speak to him just like that, uninvited. Still, he didn't want to cause a scene, meaning to keep a low profile until Zarga and the rest decided they no longer felt the inescapable need to annoy him. "No. I'm just having a look around."
The main church was usually empty, apart from sundays and the rare elderly person looking for company and comfort in the presence of the young priest. A small comunity of hardly a thousand inhabitants in a rural area, an inornate church that seemed to get emptier each year. Thus, he was surprised to see someone here - someone young, and someone new. Though Thomas most certainly did not know everyone in town, he knew all those who attended church regularly, and none of them a one-eyed redhead. Maybe he moved here only recently. For the first couple of minutes, he had not bothered the man in case he had come here to pray or light a candle. He didn't - and so Thomas approached the stranger, hands folded in front of his torso.
"Oh. I see. We rarely see tourists around here. I am afraid there is not much to see here." "I noticed that. About as dead as it gets... You're a priest, right?" "Yes, I am." "What do you do all day, apart from preaching?" (Urokai realized he never talked to a human priest before. Why would he ? ) The priest seemed to be a bit taken aback by the question, but he still answered patiently. "Apart from preparing the masses, I am responsible for counseling at the nearby nursery home and the school, as well as the local youth club and neighborhood community." "So, talking to people all day." The man in front of him laughed, it sounded off in this little church. But somehow Urokai liked that sound. It felt so... light. Genuine. "Essentially. Of course, each priest performs different tasks. But I like people, so that's what I do: helping them." "Isn't God or something supposed to help them?" Urokai snorted. He was vaguely familiar with the notion of religion, after all. "God is the one who gives us strength to help ourselves." Once again, Urokai was tempted to snort. Right. Humans needed something like that too. A Lord. A noblesse. Someone to look up to. Instead of their kings, just as foul and flawed as the common rabble, they turned to God.
"... I still need to tend to the chapel's Garden, but don't hesitate to ask, if there is anything I can help you with." The priest was too friendly, Urokai did not like it, and it almost made him snarl. That smile was too genuine, unpleasant to see with his own eyes, sore of all the bitter faces and false smiles he was forced to see whenever he had any union business to take care of. Zarga never has been particulaly funny and Roctis must have forgotten how to smile altogether. Ignes, though not much younger than him, was too intense for his tastes. For fuck's sake, how low has he stooped, to seek company from a human? "I will just hang around," he finally replied through gritted teeth, and for a moment, he was certain the man must feel his tension (but ah, Urokai never has been good at hiding his feelings. He played with his heart on his sleeve). "You're welcome. I rarely have company... My name is Thomas." He offered one hand. Urokai glanced at it with furrowed brows and, once the Priest realized that the redhead had no intentions of accepting the handshake, he let his arm drop back to his side. "I'm Urokai."
He followed the priest out in the garden, slipping his hood off. A bunch of herbs and flowers he was not familiar with. The priest grabbed a pair of intensely yellow rubber gardening gloves and a green bucket with tools that were probably meant for gardening. Urokai realized he knew absolutely nothing about herbs and plants, he always left the garden of the clan's estate to the gardener. The man, Thomas, hummed a tune as he filled a green watering can with water from an old faucet. He wasn't silent, but quiet. This was one of the rare moments Urokai remembered that they did not mean the same thing. "So, are you from far away?", the priest asked, kneeling in the dirt to clip wilted flowers from a shrub. "I'm from New Zealand." One of the elders had told him to just always say that, if asked. "New Zealand? What a far way you come from! Probably on the way  to Cork? You should drop by at Kilkenny, it's maybe an hour away from here. Though I guess that won't impress someone from New Zealand. I heard it's an absolutely gorgeous place." Urokai shrugged with a hum. He never has been to New Zealand and didn't care to. "Why are you a priest? Must be a shitty job." Thomas halted and glanced up to him before returning his attention to the rose bush. "Not everyone is made for priesthood, and that's alright. There are many ways in which people do the Lord's work, after all. I want to help people. There's many ways to do that, too." "why bother helping people? As if they ever return anything you give them." " It's not about receiving. To give and to receive is barter... The love we receive from God, we give back to our neighbours, or brothers and sisters. Compassion is not a single kind deed, but a way of life." "And then you burn yourself like a candle, to keep others warm." "If I am to burn, then so be it. Whether in this life or the next, whatever we sow we will reap."
Urokai laughed bitterly. How naive! How foolish! As if this man knew nothing of life. "Oh, yes. You love, you give, you love, you give, and you get nothing back. What you sow, another reaps. And you are forgotten and left behind. That's the way it goes. You do everything for someone you admire and cherish and you get nothing in return. You are forgotten. That's all it leads to." Finally, the priest set down his gardening tools, shifting to look at him. There was a sadness in his green eyes. "I am sorry you have been hurt so much," he said, softly. His voice was gentle, so gentle, like the tender caress of a loving father. Urokai gulped, feeling taken aback by his own outburst of emotion and the calm he was met with. In this moment, the human reminded him of someone he had tried to erase from his memory. "Often, this world is not just... often, we despair, question, wonder whether there is a purpose and a reason. We ask ... how can there be a God who makes us suffer like that? How can God loves us and still let this world be like that? It's one of the hardest questions in the world. But we all have a cross to carry, such as Christ, and the Lord does not place a cross on our shoulders heaver than what we can carry - and if we keep our faith, if we can stay good people despite everything... through these hardships, we grow. And in this growth lies salvation." Urokai swallowed, embarrassed by his own outburst of emotion before this stupid human who started talking of God. "I should go." He felt uncomfortable being here. The priest gave a little nod. "God be with you... Be safe on your travels. I hope you will find peace there."
Something about that stuck him, even long after returning to his base. I hope you will find peace there... In that little garden, in the company of that humming priest, he'd felt peace for a few moments. And for the first time in centuries, Urokai found himself wishing he could turn back time. Undo the wrongs he'd inflicted on the one he loved the most, go back to visisting the Noblesse with his friends, go back to Lukedonia, go back to times that would never come back. Urokai found himself missing the happiness he once had.
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vardasvapors · 6 years
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DRUNK LIVEBLOG OF THE AKALLABETH BC I PROMISED @rose-of-the-bright-sea​
Uh unfortunately i’m not too drunk since once again my job was to bounce everyone once the party ended but uhhh it is early morning and i’m still not asleep and i did just spend 5 hours dancing and doing shots so...
ANYWAY: first scene of the Akallabeth, remember how the edain were the only Men who fought against morgoth in the war of wrath etc, and when morgoth was defeated the Evil Men who fought for him ran away and conquered all the Stupid Men who were still living in the middle earth area and these men’s lives sucked and were constantly attacked by orcs and monsters and they were dumb and wild and stuff. this explanation is like 20 kinds of LMAO NARRATIVES but also not like, in a lying way, just in a framing way.
otoh the edain got given a giant island in the middle of the ocean as a reward for fighting against morgoth and stuff, osse and aule and yavanna did it. (valar: ‘have an island way out in the sea’ elros: ‘SOUNDS LEGIT’). meanwhile the elves of ME are long-sufferingly granted permission to come to tol eressea because their lives kinda suck. the difference in the tone of the edain’s gift and the elves’ gift is totally not noticed by the narrator but the fact that avallone was build on the eastern edge of tol eressea where it could be seen from numenor is. lol.
there’s this super gorgeous entrancing description of how earendil burned super bright so that he shone night and day and the edain followed him over the calm enchanted sea until they found the island of numenor -- andor the land of gift, elenna that is starwards. however we all know all this incredible rich storytelling stuff isn’t important compared to the tiny scrap of smugness that can be wrung out of making elros hate earendil and/or elves, bc everyone knows that no character’s narrative matters except the feanorians’.
elves of ME also brought all the edain to numenor and elves of tol eressea gave the edain a ton of tools and gifts and stuff to help build their new nation, but you know it’s fun to headcanon elros as a bitter chest-puffing supercilious self-satisfied little prick who finds these elves embarrassing and blinkered and their existence pitiful and tut-tuttingly Wrong. bc that makes sense and is woke for some reason.
the numenoreans became taller than all the sons of middle earth, not all the men of middle earth, so numenoreans are taller than elves. also they didn’t have a lot of kids, bc i guess population explosions on islands with almost no death outside of like 300 years of old age is a Bad Time.
also “and the light of their eyes was like the bright stars” hahahahahahahahaha lmao! kill me! lies down. does not get up.
WHITE TREE FRACTALS
the numenoreans are super cool and get to talk and visit with both elves of tol eressea and elves of middle earth, which seems to lead to the completely inescapable conclusion that numenor is a place where the peoples of all lands can pass messages to one another but this is never mentioned. the numenoreans could totally also have prob defeated the evil human kings of middle earth if they tried but they were totes peaceful -- at an undefined point in time. nice vague timeline blurring bruh.
instead they like, instructed the dumb middle earth men on how to grow grain and grind flour and make stuff out of wood bc uh i guess the middle earth men are too dumb to figure it out, for “the ordering of their life, such as it might be in the lands of swift death and little bliss” hahahahahaha this is the most condescending line in the entire silm it’s great.
then the numenoreans start getting dissatisfied with how they still gotta die and stuff. it’s vaguely described as being something to do with how even their long lives are still not as long as elves’ loves, but every time i read this it reminds me how pissed about mortality i’d be if my great-great-great-uncle who was totally allowed to choose to become immortal kept popping in to talk about how he got to see the cool millennia of my country’s history first hand and debate with my revered ancestral founding king. so.
however the numenoreans totally brush over these sorts of super compelling and sympathetic and valid points and instead just whine about how they’re A Bigshot Kewl Superior Race and HDU Say We Can’t Control Everything If We Wanna, 36 Presents? But Last Century I Got 37! because they’re fucking useless dumbasses.
The valar reply that Aman Will Not Make You Immortal, Yo, and also that elves being immortal and men being mortal aren’t rewards or punishments, which are reasonable points. they then go on to go ‘TBH shouldn’t WE be the ones envying YOU bc you get to peace out of this clusterfuck world, huh, huh whaddaya think about that. also btw the whole mortality thing is some Secret Plan To Fight Inflation eru came up with, and none of us will know it until you and a bajillion generations of your descendants are all dead, lol!!!!’ THANKS VALAR. THAT’S REALLY HELPFUL. GREAT JOB OF ACTUALLY ADDRESSING ANYTHING THE NUMENOREANS ARE BOTHERED ABOUT. KUDOS. i love dumb gods.
the numenoreans are super dissatisfied but instead of anything constructive the king decides to hold his breath and throw a tantrum stay king until he’s totally senile and his son is old, bc of spite, then numenor gets divided into the king’s men and the faithful. the faithful are also bleh about death but assume that the valar have some kind of good reason for what they said, because um, reasons, i guess. no one says if the reasons are more mindless dogma or more a grounding and strengthening faith, but since numenoreans sound like RL humans to a tee it’s probably both. the king’s men aren’t skeptics tho -- they just conquer and enslave and colonize and steal from middle earth, bc ‘the west was denied to them.’ some fans find this to be a ‘yes, but--’ where it’s not the best thing to do but sympathetic and better than those un-nietzschean faithful. i’m gonna assume every single person who finds this nod-worthy is as White as sour cream.
later on Ar-Gimilzor bans the Faithful’s language, sends secret police or smth to find out everyone who is Faithful and forcibly remove them from their homes, relocate them to Romenna, and corral and watch them, call them and the elves of tol eressea spies, chase them out of numenor, and force the faithful leader’s sister to marry the king. some fans still somehow think this was a morally grey and understandable thing to do because secular-culturally-christian libs are vile and have never parsed a history book in their lives.
Tar-Palantir becomes king after being secretly taught Faithful stuff by his secretly faithful mom, but nothing he does to fix things helps and he eventually dies young from depression. His daughter Tar-Miriel becomes queen but her cousin Ar-Pharazon forces her to marry him and give him the kingship instead. exactly how this happened remains unexplained! Boo! I want more details. Anyway Pharazon is a Fragile Masculinity poster boy and when sauron starts causing trouble he decides he’s just gotta go capture him and bring him to numenor to show off and stroke his ego, bc he is an Heir Of Eärendil and Respect Meehhh!! God this guy sounds SO UNPLEASANTLY FAMILIAR DOESN’T HE EH. (parenthetically i am delighted beyond words at how absolutely bang-on it is that the King’s Men, both here and earlier with the convo with the Valar, totally Do Not Mention the fact that they’re heirs of Elros, not just Earendil, bc that would be super inconvenient to their vision of themselves and their mortality grievance!! lol!!! i love it!!!! god!!!!!!!! *fingers and thumb in a circle emoji*).
anyway sauron is super smart and an awesomesauce genre-savvy villain and way too good for pharazon and he flatters him and manipulates him into making him his councilor and convinces him that the valar are lying and and to worship morgoth and slaughter the faithful by sacrificing them on.....hm....altars....as rebels and as scapegoats for all numenor’s Problems(TM)....>_>....lmao tolkien can be really fucking dumb and scattered about his mythology and religion patchworking, and yet the wokeness-masturbating section of fandom is infinitely worse in the most predictable ways.
WHITE TREE FRACTALS (this time featuring bonus BAMF and Super Awesome And Lovable 21 Year Old Isildur......have i mentioned recently how much i hate peter jackson......)
anyway when Pharazon has a mid-life crisis about getting old sauron also convinces him he can become immortal by invading aman, which he should totally do bc The Strong Do What They Will And The Weak Bear What They Must (remember this is tragically admirable if flawed, because it’s defying fate!) and a super armament is built to invade aman and ar-Pharazon’s ex-bff Amandil who’s secretly friends with the Faithful freaks and makes secret plans to sail to valinor to beg the valar to do something and has his son elendil prepare to go to middle earth to see the elves who are hunkered down there doing.....uhhhhh???? probably hiding from numenorean conquest????
but anyway when pharazon invades aman and chases the elves out of tol eressea and then tirion, he has a Uh-Oh I Think This Was A Bad Idea feeling but can’t back down now so he lands ashore and camps out around tirion and then manwe prays to eru to bail everyone out and says he will lay down rule of arda for a minute since he doesn’t know what to do, presumably a la ‘omg dad i fucked up and totally crashed your car,’ and eru solves this by getting ar-pharazon & co buried under a mountain until the end of the world (funny how so few fans ever address this thing re: tirion in valinor fanfic eh? oh yeah i forgot silm fans don’t give a shit about humans), opening up a big crack in the ocean, pulling aman and tol eressea out into space, turning the earth from flat to spherical, and letting the island of numenor get buried under the resulting tidal wave and fall down the crack to wherever. because you know overkill is great! also sauron is too busy doing an Evil Villain Laugh to realize he’s about to get drowned and he totally dies and has to make himself a new body out of Anger and he’s now ugly, which sucks for the fanartists.
anyway manwe saves elendil and his fleet (it doesn’t say manwe, but it does say ‘but the great wind took [elendil], wilder than any wind that Men had known, roaring from the west, and it swept his ships far away...’ which, duh) and they wind up washed up on middle earth, but totally grief-stricken over the destruction of numenor.
I can’t liveblog the rest any better than verbatim so I’ll just quote:
Among the Exiles many believed that the summit of the Meneltarma, the Pillar of Heaven, was not drowned for ever, but rose again above the waves, a lonely island lost in the great waters; for it had been a hallowed place, and even in the days of Sauron none had defiled it And some there were of the seed of Eärendil that afterwards sought for it, because it was said among loremasters that the far-sighted men of old could see from the Meneltarma a glimmer of the Deathless Land. For even after the ruin the hearts of the Dúnedain were still set westwards; and though they knew indeed that the world was changed, they said: 'Avallónë is vanished from the Earth and the Land of Aman is taken away, and in the world of this present darkness they cannot be found. Yet once they were, and therefore they still are, in true being and in the whole shape of the world as at first it was devised.'
For the Dúnedain held that even mortal Men, if so blessed, might look upon other times than those of their bodies' life; and they longed ever to escape from the shadows of their exile and to see in some fashion the light that dies not; for the sorrow of the thought of death had pursued them over the deeps of the sea. Thus it was that great mariners among them would still search the empty seas, hoping to come upon the Isle of Meneltarma, and there to see a vision of things that were. But they found it not. And those that sailed far came only to the new lands, and found them like to the old lands, and subject to death. And those that sailed furthest set but a girdle about the Earth and returned weary at last to the place of their beginning; and they said:
'All roads are now bent.'
Thus in after days, what by the voyages of ships, what by lore and star-craft, the kings of Men knew that the world was indeed made round, and yet the Eldar were permitted still to depart and to come to the Ancient West and to Avallónë, if they would. Therefore the loremasters of Men said that a Straight Road must still be, for those that were permitted to find it. And they taught that, while the new world fell away, the old road and the path of the memory of the West still went on, as it were a mighty bridge invisible that passed through the air of breath and of flight (which were bent now as the world was bent), and traversed Ilmen which flesh unaided cannot endure, until it came to Tol Eressëa, the Lonely Isle, and maybe even beyond, to Valinor, where the Valar still dwell and watch the unfolding of the story of the world. And tales and rumours arose along the shores of the sea concerning mariners and men forlorn upon the water who, by some fate or grace or favour of the Valar, had entered in upon the Straight Way and seen the face of the world sink below them, and so had come to the lamplit quays of Avallónë, or verily to the last beaches on the margin of Aman, and there had looked upon the White Mountain, dreadful and beautiful, before they died.
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braywashed · 7 years
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anyway at some point i should probably ramble about my trip to boston?? so i’m gonna go ahead and do that??
like right off the bat let me just say the worst [art was actually GETTING to mass. my train was supposed to leave at 9:55am, and around 7:50 i got a text saying it was delayed until 1:03pm. we arrived around noon, and gradually my anxiety about going on the trip turned into anxiety of NOT getting on the trip as the board kept delaying... and delaying... and delaying...
....and then it started pouring out. crazy wind. murmurs the train lost signal and all contact with the station. after i finally got on (at 3:00pm), my aunt texted me that all that? yeah. that was a tornado warning. wat.
i got a pair of seats to myself for most of trip. fought with my wifi. listened to the crazy lady rant about dope ruining america a few rows back. mostly enjoyed the view and basked in the fact that i was not, shockingly, puking my stomach lining out. until we got to utica, and a shit ton of people got on.
my seat buddy then became an almost cute 18 year old dude with dreads and a lower half trash polka sleeve who was more interested in his earbuds than anything so i was fine with this. until we were about to MA and a few exchanged word and lazy lounging around turned into him doing THING guys think is cute where they lowkey rub your skin with the side of their finger against my thigh. so i ended up sitting up and the next stop he moved his shit to another seat. YEAH BYE.
along the way we kept having to stop bc signal problems and track construction and letting other trains pass. needless to say the train that was supposed to get in at like 8pm got in at at like 2:30am.
it was miserable, and raining. rachel got us an uber and i sat in the back seat next to some chick wh was super pretty and dressed up and here i was, a goblin, smelling like train restoom, in an ill fitting deadpool hoodie and yoga pants.
when we got to her place she made me some ramen (WITH THE RANDOM EGG AND EVERYTHING) that was good but spicy af and my stomach noped out and tbh over a week later my stomach is just now letting me eat properly again. tho i’m blaming this more on the issues with my abdomen acting up prior to leaving than the actual trip (tho, my skin having pores the size of actual craters i am blaming on the trip). i think the one thing we ate that DIDN’T act up in my body was the awful chicken wings we got from Wings Over that were about half fat and ridiculously undercooked. it figures.
ANYWAY. her futon is huge. it’s sad that i have more leg room on a futon than an actual mattress, but whatever. and there was construction going on across the street. fun fact: i came home to construction going on on MY street. so this was inescapable from the jump.
day 1 i got cute as possible and we hopped a bus and a train. my stomach was less forgiving of the motion here, but i lived. i saw Ron, the T-Rex. and we went to the isabella gardner museum where she lied and said i was a student. i was then asked a bunch of questions about being a student, none of which i was prepared for, and i’m pretty sure the only reason they let me in was because my zip code was accurate. that place is massive and pretty gorgeous from head to toe and i can’t fathom ever being that fucking rich.
then we went to get some food at a nifty little bar and restaurant . the name is escaping me rn but i stole a coaster. again, the food did not agree with me, and i could do a review on boston restrooms at this point. but it was great.
NINJA SEX PARTY! the house of blues wasn’t as bad as reviews made it sound, and aside from the mess that was the merch table they we kind of cheated like assholes due to some pretty honest confusion, was a good time. the line was MASSIVE. we got there an hour early and it was already around the corner and hard to miss. by the time we got towards the front of the building, it was around the block. we met a couple younger dudes from maine and a significantly more awkward gentleman more our age to keep us entertained. there were some street musicians. some asshole staff. you know.
all i really have to say about the concert itself was it was probably the best live music show of any kind i’ve ever been to and definitely the most enjoyable environment (huge tall dude who kept, somehow, ending up directly in front of me aside). everyone sounded amazing live, even if we were RIGHT under the speaker stage left and now permanently have bass vibrations embedded in our bones.
day two we hit up the museum of fine arts, which is massive and we didn’t see all of (and i paid full price for, thank you very much) and then grabbed a pizza and those awful wings and intended to chill out with some boy meets world. but the disks wouldn’t play. so we settled on mst3k. and let me tell you, i have not nearly cried from laughter in something as much as ‘cry wilderness’ nearly made me fucking cry.
day three we headed to south station to meet probes and hung out. there were a bunch of food trucks outside that were kinda neat. we didn’t think that girl would ever fucking find us, but she did. everything was OKAY. NO NEED TO PANIC. NO FIVE HOUR DELAYS. jess gives massive hugs, for the record.
we hit up a spot for lunch where they served be like, the biggest plate of pasta and bread i have ever witnessed in my life. i felt wasteful only eating barely half of it. then we found our way to the trains and the aquarium just in time for some sweet penguin education and eventually a lecture on their huge ass fucking tank that takes up the entire center of the room with a 90 year old sea turtle in it and some sharks and string rays. it was pretty cool, yo.  i got a stuffed squid in the gift shop, even tho we did not see any giant squids (0/10 do not recommend) and outside jess gave me a present even though i fucking told everyone no presents (RAChEL ALSO GAVE ME NAIL POLISH AND A WRISTBAND WTF). it was a new day candy bar from fye. and yes, pop rocks n chocolate is surprisingly pleasant.
our PLAN was to go see hitmans bodyguard. but everyone showing it before like 7 was only showing 3d, and we wanted to get her on a bus home by 9. haha what fucking suckers @ us, because the bus didn’t leave until like 10. so we got shitty milkshakes, hit up the comic shop, and wandered around harvard for a bit until it got dark. and then were stuck at south station, wondering if she was going to be stuck in MA forever. reflecting on two quiet nerds and one extrovert being a not great possible combination of three people. but i still had a good time.
day 4 we did, in fact, see hitmans bodyguard and while it was mostly forgettable summer action lulz, i do ship the hell out of samuel l jackson and salma hayek now. so that’s cool. it was a fun time. hit up the park after, and a b&n to get schooled on peak writing stephen king. then we went to starbucks and i HAD STARBUCKS FOR THE FIRST TIME?? it was the double choc ship frap thing. it’s good. i’m mad about it.
we headed back, did laundry, ordered food. i ought her dream daddy, which was a waste of money, but i do take pride in just knowing she’s stuck having technically played a portion of dream daddy now. it’s her own fault for asking about it, it really is. mostly we watched more mst3k, some grumps shit, some random shit, some postmodern jukebox, had a drink. just chilled. and the ‘oh... fuck... haha... i have to go home tomorrow’ feeling hit when i turned off the lights.
i was too bummed the next day for much of anything tbh. i get depressed after anything fun. i get depressed after wwe shows, lmao, so for the trip to already be over when it suddenly seemed like i just got there sucked. plus it only just then really hit me i was in a different part of the country, if that makes sense even if it was only one state over. it was a weird realization as someone who never travels to have.
the train home i wasn’t so lucky to be alone most of it. i ended up in an aisle seat with a college girl. we minded our own business. stuck directly under the AC that was way too cold. a woman and a fucking baby sitting the next row over the second any space cleared out. had a layover in albany where an old guy made me a shot of iced chocolate espresso which he had never been asked to make before, and truthfully, i’d never had before, but it was alright. i actually enjoyed the layover as some weird, space between spaces, time to reflect on my own in an unfamiliar place kind of thing.
we got in around midnight, my aunt picked me up. got home around one.
that was that.
i had a really good time. i’m sure it didn’t seem that way. i’m like that. but i did and i appreciated the opportunity and definitely appreciated rachel for letting me freeload on her futon and showing me around and making me ramen i felt guilty for not finishing.
the city was nice. i’m sure i was only seeing the nicer parts, mind you, but compared to rochester or buffalo it just felt wider, cleaner. idk. i didn’t HATE it, and as someone who hates being in cities for more than a couple hours, it wasn’t bad.
it was a great time away from the world and despite the stress of coming home to everything, and a room without molding on the door (which was, for the record, still locked), i did feel a lot better afterwards. i still do.
=)
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problemstarchild · 5 years
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also i’ve been talking abt this to a friend but. i feel like ash gets dealt a pretty shitty hand by fandom. a lot of people get rid of her on virmire bc she’s xenophobic, but the first contact war was only 26 years ago, and her whole family’s been blacklisted in the military because her grandfather made the choice that saved civilians
she spends her whole life living with this idea that she has to be better than the best to even get off the ground. she’s spent her whole life trying to be accepted by other humans, and it’s because of aliens that she even faces that difficulty.
of course, it’s not actually their fault. it’s the fault of the alliance (and especially her father, though i sincerely doubt he meant to) for putting that pressure on her.
i only feel like this is wild because she’s just more directly vocal about being xenophobic than garrus. garrus in me1? sucks. i mean, i love him as a character; he’s very reactive to your moral advice in me1, but as soon as you take him on an elevator, he proves his ignorance and turian racism. he chides tali for her people’s involvement in creating the geth, defends the genophage - he doesn’t even know that quarians have to be suited (making a comment about how she should get armor without a helmet, though tali’s response to that has several character variants so they might have just needed him to say something to reuse tali’s audio for a conversation? but it’s also in there and canon), pretty blatantly insults krogans in general with one of those “you’re different from them” comments to wrex. garrus gets all preachy in an elevator convo w/ kaidan, “humanity will be judged by the sacrifices it’s willing to make”, saying the turians would have kept the L2 implants (that have led to horrific physiological issues for human biotics - there are at least 2 missions in me1 that have to do w/ angry biotic groups killing politicians and military alike because they feel that they’ve been abandoned by humanity).
if someone asks him about going up against saren, he’s fixated on “restoring the good name of turians everywhere”.
i mean like... he’s a cop. so... it’s kind of a “duh, he’s a xenophobe” moment, i guess? the only aliens he doesn’t seem to insult in me1 are the asari.
ashley insults aliens in general, but only to your face, iirc. she hates cerberus as much as anyone else, and is actively hostile toward a representative of the xenophobic terra firma party. she only kills wrex if you signal her to, or if you’re not persuasive enough to change his mind on virmire - and if wrex HAD shot shepard? there’s no way everyone else wouldn’t have retliated. in her elevator conversations, she’s nowhere near the bar garrus set for xenophobia (servantofclio’s transcript of elevator dialogue can be accessed here, if you need a refresher): she asks a few personal questions, talks a little about sexism. if she’s the one who talks to tali regarding the dialogue about treated like a beggar or thief, she admits she’s heard things about quarians and suggests that people don’t get to know them because they don’t stay in one place for long. i think that’s the worst thing she says to an alien, and most of her grievances about the council are out of a hatred for politics. she’s jumpy around aliens, period, when you’d probably assume that her family’s background would make her specifically wary of turians. despite that, all of her elevator conversations with garrus are polite. she’s also the only person that garrus doesn’t racially insult (though he does comment on having noticed that most alliance women serve support roles rather than frontline roles).
so i feel like most of the fandom’s widespread love for garrus and dislike for ashley stems from the fact that ashley’s me1 xenophobia is general and to your face, where you can confront it, whereas garrus’ xenophobia is specifically targeted to "background characters” - inescapable elevator rides where he regurgitates common racial stereotypes and galactic history. as me1 is the first entry in the series, typically, the player reads it as worldbuilding. they’re focused on the information they just heard, not the implications of that information.
honestly, i’m only bringing it up because a friend and i have been replaying recently and it’s astonishing once you know the series pretty well to listen to him talk to your other squadmates the way he does in me1. his crew on omega in me2 was diverse, and he tells you they’d all lost someone to the asteroid’s extensive underbelly - his experience on the normandy turns him into someone who can look at a batarian and see a real, actual person who loves and grieves like anyone else... and then do that a couple more times until the message sticks.
ashley’s effectively written out of mass effect 2 (or the end of mass effect 1 if you don’t save her on virmire), so she doesn’t get any immediate character development the way garrus does, aside from throwing away her previous deference to shepard aside on horizon to (rightly) criticize their apparent new loyalties. even then, it doesn’t show until me3, where she’s willing to shoot you to protect the council (which, of course, contains a human now, too, but if she were as bad as some people think she is, wouldn’t he just let her in on it? leaving out the cerberus part, of course).
she spends a good chunk of mass effect 3 just sitting in a hospital bed... idk. again. i ADORE garrus, but he got way more opportunity for character development than ashley did - coming from systemic privilege, holding a position that gave him significant power over civilians (he admits to roughing up a suspect in interrogation until he started bleeding when he’s telling you about dr. saleon!), and then starting a new life on omega where all of those unsavory non-council species gather and having to actually interact with them on a daily basis.
ashley just doesn’t get the same narrative chance to redeem herself that garrus did, even though i feel like garrus’ initial xenophobia is way worse. narratively, shepard can tell ashley she’s out of line for her comments, and she won’t make them anymore. narratively, shepard just stands by and listens to garrus make snippy little condescending comments to their other allies on long elevator rides without saying or doing anything about it, no matter what side of the paragade spectrum they fall on.
tl;dr if you love garrus vakarian or even just like him, and/or don’t see a problem with his me1 self re: his elevator conversations in me1, you have a duty to extend the same courtesy to ashley, whose potential for character development suffered badly from artificial scarcity in both me2 and a solid chunk of me3.
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narkik · 7 years
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slightly long but relevant explanation of why naraku LOVES kikyou, how she is literally the center of his entire world, how his life is meaningless without her, bc tbh its been 2 years & it blows my mind that some ppl still don’t see this and i am t i r e d
(summary @ the bottom for ppl who don’t wanna read the whole rantTM. if anyone doesn’t understand why narkik is shipped , pls, pls read this)
first and FOREMOST,, i’d like to reiterate that oNIGUMO IS NOT NARAKU. they are 2 entirely different people. kikyou is a different person than kagome, right??? right !!! i could go on about how kagome/naraku parallel one another and how kikyou/kagome & onigumo/naraku are textually compared in literally every fucking way, but that’s whole different discussion
anyway: naraku loVEs kikyou. naraku. all by himself. ??? why??? bc , kinda like how kagome is different than kikyou and loves inuyasha for her own reasons, naraku fell in love with kikyou for reasons entirely beyond onigumo. kikyou lived her human life with as much agency as a human could have. but naraku was literally born for her?? his . literal. entire. body. would not exist. if not. for onigumo’s thirst. in fACt, that was part of the bargain he made w/ the demons !!! like “hey guys, i’ll let y’all eat me alive if you give me a new body, so i can grab the shikon jewel & grab me some kikyou ;)))”
the problem?? naraku was a person of his own. thats why he had 0% issues w murdering kikyou in s1 episode 1, then frolicked around feudal japan for 50+ years w/o worry.
THEN. SHE COMES BACK . suddenly naraku’s Thirsty Human Heart is fuc kin racing, making his hands sweat, shoving warm fuzzy feelings down his throat whenever kikyou makes some snide remark about his body, etc. and he’s like??? “fuck fu ck cfuCk fu Ck” for CHAPTERS ON END. it pisses him off that she has that effect on him, it pisses him off that he can’t just stab her 10 million times, it pisses him off that she Turns Him On even tho she’s made of clay. every cell of kikyou makes him wanna die and he Hates Her Entire Ass. its incredible
fast forward a couple chapters: naraku finally removes his heart. hurray !!!! right ??? n  o p E !! he learns p quickly that the human heart that loves kikyou is the LITERAL GLUE THAT HOLDS HIS PHYSICAL BODY TOGETHER. just !!! let that sink in !!! w/o that love, his bod y actually f cukin cant keep itself together,!!!
thats?? not even the best part???? whats even better is when round 2 of this happens, onigumo’s human heart doesn’t love kikyou; the infant says himself that he did not possess the love for kikyou which caused naraku so much suffering. i think its at this point where these feelings become naraku’s; they’ve evolved from onigumo’s own. bc, a few chapters down the line, naraku realizes that. he doesn’t know what he wants to do w the jewel after its completed. therefore he has no DriveTM to complete it. and the jewel couldn’t have THAT
so naraku has to take back his love for kikyou. why??? bc the bitterness, hurt, and anger that he felt because of it fueled his actions. ALL OF HIS ACTIONS. kagome points this out later -- how he makes every1 suffer by breaking human bonds. the agony he felt from unrequited love fueled everything he did, up ‘til he made his wish on the jewel, whICH WAS FOR KIKYOU’S HEART!!! not for the chance to feel her up, not to fcuk her 5 ways to sunday -- he wishes for her heart. on tOP of thaT, he laments about how they could never be together: not in this life, and not in the afterlife (bc ,, like.. even he knows he’s gonna burn in hell 5ever lmao). idk about y’all, but if i lust after some1, the first thing i ??? dont think of?? is their heart?? or the fact that we couldn’t /be together in life/??? just !! sayin !!
naraku wishes for kikyou’s heart because it’s an echo of what onigumo wanted, yes, and onigumo’s feelings are the reason his Whole Entire Life started. BUT he wishes for her heart bc he realized that he had no other purpose on planet earth other than to love her after completing the jewel. naraku himself loves kikyou bc she fleshes out his existence -- he literally doesn’t know what to do without her. after finishing the jewel, he has no other p ur p o se than to love her. kagome, who asserts her identity beyond kikyou through her love for inuyasha, is able to free herself from the jewel -- but naraku could not. even though he himself fell in love with kikyou, it was in accordance with the circumstances of his creation. inuyasha says “kagome was born for me & i was born for her as well!!” guess what my guys??? naraku was born for kikyou. she’s the literal core of his existence. and they hate each other bc the shikon jewel needed it to be that way. neither of them had any choice in that.
this isn’t even incLUDIng the actual literary narrative structure that parallels inukag OR the fact that narkik is the cyclical repeat of midoriko/magatsuhi a la the jewel’s manipulation OR how the overall theme of ~~humanity vs. monstrosity~~~ rumiko makes in the text is in accordance w/ the fact that naraku is so haunted by love, a human emotion?? i mean !! god !!
anyways , to summarize , can you fucking believe naraku’s entire existence revolves around how he’s supposed to suffer, how his love will never be returned, how he Has No Other Purpose on god’s green earth than to love Kikyou + be hated by her + complete the jewel 2 trap them both inside it???? can you belie ve that naraku was his own goddamn person, tried his hardest NOT to love her, but like how kagome was ~~born for inuyasha~~, naraku was born for kikyou, and had no fucking way out of the fact that he loved her just bc he happened to be the person born via onigumo’s thirst???? bc the shikon jewel squished him into a role and didn’t care about how he was his own person??? and can you believe that in sPITe of all this , naraku fell in love with kikyou for the fact that she grounds his very bEING, that his love for her is the only thing he knows, that at the end of the day he still wished for her heart ??
and no it’s not healthy love, it’s not functional love, it’s by no means good reason to love anyone at all. but naraku’s love is what differentiates him from onigumo, and it exhausts me when i see them being lumped together bc everyone remembers how kagome was different from kikyou?? rumiko’s Whole Entire Point w/ so much of the series was that people are not defined by their heritage, that they are not defined by the people who preceded them, that every1 is their Own Goddamn PersonTM even in the face of some(thing)one reducing you to a role just bc you have similarities to whatever they want to see. naraku was his Own Damn Person, yet he still fell in love w/ kikyou , he wouldn’t exist w/o that love, those inescapable feelings for her define his life, & idk about y’all but this is why narkik is my otp?? i will never be over it, not for as long as i live, and i still can’t believe the most academically consistent/intricate story i’ve ever seen is from a fcukin 90s anime
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