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inairbinad · 10 months

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Steve's Got a Date with a Vampire! (7)

Now Complete! | Explicit Part One | Part Six | Read on AO3

warnings: none. just a fluffy little epilogue.

A few days after their first date—first everything—Steve and Eddie decided it was probably time to resurface long enough to actually socialize with other people.

Technically, only Robin and Nancy knew that he and Eddie were officially dating now. But Steve knew well enough that between Dustin’s big mouth and the fact that neither Steve nor Eddie had shown their faces anywhere but at work for several days, everyone in their little group had to know by now.

Not that Steve minded. He wouldn’t mind putting out a newsletter about it, actually, he was so fucking happy.

Especially when he kept getting to eat breakfast with Eddie every morning. Or Steve got to eat, at least, and Eddie usually watched while they talked.

It was sickeningly domestic, and Steve absolutely loved it.

“So we’re telling them we’re boyfriends, right?” Steve asked around a mouthful of toast. He considered torturing Dustin a little and pretending they were still dancing around it, just for shits and giggles. But Steve was pretty sure he was too enamored with using the word boyfriend to really get away with such a deception for longer than a minute or two.

“Mhmm,” Eddie hummed softly, not bothering to hide his own satisfied little smile at the thought. Steve had to brush his toes against Eddie’s leg under the table just to do something about how cute it was.

“What about the levitating thing?” Steve asked, unsure if Eddie wanted to keep that just between them. Eddie’s best guess about why it happened was that he was literally so happy he could fly, and Steve wasn’t exactly eager to dispel that notion in any way. Which is exactly what would happen if that became Dustin’s newest “problem” to solve.

It didn’t seem like Eddie was all that enthusiastic, either. He chewed his lip in thought for a moment before responding.

“I’m really not quite ready to be the flying monkey again, Stevie,” he sighed. “They’ve just started getting used to the new me, anyway. No need to go adding extra oddities to the mix.”

“That’s fair,” Steve agreed, but felt the need to clarify one worry that was written all over Eddie’s face. “But you know everyone’s still gonna love you, flying or not, right?”

Eddie huffed out a soft little sigh, like he did know that deep down, but he had needed to hear it anyway. Then the corners of his mouth twitched up in a teasing grin that made Steve’s heart sputter.

“Oh yeah? Everyone?” Eddie asked, holding Steve’s gaze until his face felt hot from the implication. Eddie didn’t make him sweat it out for long, though, and deftly moved back to the point. “If Dustin finds out about the floating thing, he’s gonna want us to recreate the initial circumstances, for science and shit, and he’s gonna want to watch.”

“Oh, shit,” Steve breathed out, realizing there was no way on earth Eddie could start feeding from his neck again in front of anyone without it being an embarrassing disaster. “You’re right.”

“I know,” Eddie crowed, then slipped his hand up Steve’s thigh beneath the kitchen table and squeezed. “We can always practice figuring it out on our own.”

God, Steve wanted to kiss him.

Not for the first time, and probably not for the last, with a surprised jolt Steve realized he didn’t have to quash that impulse anymore. So he leaned across the table with a smile playing at his lips and waited for Eddie to meet him halfway.

Despite days of Steve practically hanging from Eddie’s lips every chance he got, sometimes Eddie still got this little surprised look on his face when Steve moved in to kiss him. On the one hand, Steve wanted Eddie to know deep in his bones that Steve always wanted to kiss him, to touch him, to show his affection in a million ways big and small until Eddie didn’t question it for a second.

And yet.

The little quirk of Eddie’s brow when Steve would start to tip his face to the side, or the sparkle in his eye that read something like again?, and really?, and lucky me, drove Steve absolutely wild. Part of him hoped Eddie never stopped.

Steve didn’t think it’d be a bad thing if neither one of them ever lost a little bit of the wonder at being each other’s, out of all the other people in the world.

Steve relished in that same sparkle for a moment as he nudged his nose against Eddie’s. “Let’s just not fly too high, yeah?”

He really never tired of making Eddie laugh, especially not when he was close enough to feel it, or to see the mirth that lit up his eyes.

“Deal, sweetheart.”

Eddie finally brushed his lips against Steve’s in a soft promise that might’ve been enough to send Steve flying out into orbit anyway.

— — —

A couple of hours later, Steve was lazily lounging on a floatie and trying to catch some sun before the gremlins arrived, while Eddie read a book in the shade nearby. It seemed only fitting that they have another day by the pool, considering how this had all started.

Soon enough, Steve’s peace was thoroughly disturbed by the sound of Dustin’s screeching reaching his ears. Steve bolted upright and turned towards the racket, confused, until he noticed literally everyone standing around the edge of the pool and staring at his chest.

His chest that was littered with bites, bruises, and scratches, all on full display as he sunbathed.

“Oh my god,” Robin said, just barely containing a full-on cackle. When even Robin was staring at his chest with wide eyes and a tilt to her chin, Steve knew he had to be a sight.

Steve nearly felt embarrassed—but not quite. This was his house, goddamnit, and he’d show off that Eddie was his boyfriend now as much as he damn well pleased.

“Get it out now,” he sighed as he paddled over towards the edge of the pool to climb out. Steve looked over to see Eddie’s reaction, only to find he was very determinedly hiding his face in his book.

“I knew it,” Dustin squealed, practically bouncing. Steve didn’t think that was a particularly impressive claim, since Dustin had been the one to set it up, but he shrugged it off as everyone else chimed in.

“How are you not dead?” Mike asked, and Nancy did the honors of pinching the back of his neck in response. “What? It’s a legitimate question!”

“Max, you’re staring,” Lucas pointed out, and Max shrugged him off without averting her eyes for a moment.

“So what? We all are,” she said, completely unbothered.

“Not like that,” Lucas argued as Steve finally got out of the pool and dried off. He wasn’t going to be the one to point out that Lucas himself was very much staring in the same vein as Max, since he was trying to stay humble.

“Dude, that’s true love right there,” Argyle said to Jonathan as much as he did Steve. It was the first thing that made Steve actually blush, so Robin took it as her cue to swoop in and shut down the commentary for now.

“Steve and Eddie are happy, yes?” she asked, looking between them. Eddie finally peeked out from behind his book and gave Robin a blinding smile and a thumbs up. Steve just nodded as he swooned a little. “Right. Then let’s be happy for them and try to act civilized.”

“Thank you, Robin,” Steve shot her a grateful smile that she returned in kind. Then he moved over to sit on the same chair as Eddie, folding himself between Eddie’s legs until his back rested comfortably against his boyfriend’s chest. Eddie wrapped his arms around Steve’s middle, and Steve raised his eyebrows at everyone in a challenge.

No one was cowed, though. Dustin lit up like the sun itself, and the rest of the kids broke out in a chorus of “fucking finally”s while the older teens just gave Eddie and Steve looks of sympathy and happiness in equal parts.

“That went about as well as we could have hoped,” Eddie muttered in Steve’s ear.

Steve had barely hummed in response as Dustin came and plopped on the chair beside them.

“You could at least say thank you,” he grinned.

Steve twisted around enough to look at Eddie, who gave him a sheepish smile in return when he said, “Spoke too soon.”

“Hey, we helped!” Erica called Dustin out immediately, gesturing towards herself and El. Steve already knew that El was involved, but Erica too?

“How did you help?” Steve asked her, cutting right into whatever argument Dustin was teeing up.

“Tina’s brother was the one working the Ferris wheel,” Erica shrugged, and Steve tensed just thinking about being stuck up there again. Eddie squeezed him a little tighter, probably to help Steve remember they were on solid ground just as much as it was to keep Steve from shoving Erica, Dustin, and El into the pool over it.

Erica didn’t seem bothered by the queasy look on Steve’s face, and explained further. “I threatened to send pages of his journal to his crush if he didn’t let you all dangle for a while after El stopped the wheel. Now Dustin owes me a favor.”

The devious glint in her eye almost made Steve feel bad for Dustin. Almost.

“You little shits,” Steve grit out, somehow both impressed and irritated at their dedication. “I’m scared of heights!”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have gotten on the Ferris wheel then?” Mike chimed in, and Eddie snorted.

“What happened to leaving them alone?” Jonathan asked calmly. Steve wanted to kiss his forehead.

“I just think I deserve a little credit!” Dustin said. Robin came over to shoo him out of his chair so she could take it for herself, and by some miracle Dustin complied. Steve still wondered how the hell she got him to do whatever she wanted.

“Then so do we,” El affirmed, backing Erica up. “And so does Murray.”

“Murray?” Nancy perked up, more interested now. “What does he have to do with it?”

“Dustin called him up and asked for matchmaking tips weeks ago,” Lucas filled Nancy in. Apparently everyone was privy to Dustin’s plans, and had been all along. Steve didn’t know why he was surprised.

“Is that who you were calling sir over the radio?” Steve asked, the puzzle pieces finally slotting together. “For your ‘project?’”

“Yep,” Dustin beamed, still standing over them while everyone else dispersed to either the pool or their own chairs.

“So you didn’t really come up with any of those schemes on your own, then?” Eddie asked, sounding a little disappointed.

“I did so!” Dustin squeaked. “All Murray suggested was getting you two alone where you couldn’t avoid each other. Preferably in small spaces, and maybe to encourage some friendly competition. But I did the rest!”

“Yeah, that tracks,” Eddie hummed. “No one but Henderson would’ve come up with the linen closet story.”

“Hey, it worked, didn’t it?” Dustin challenged, and Steve didn’t really want to rehash how he’d fallen for the nasal spray excuse.

“And our dinner?” Eddie asked, trudging right along. “Did you know it was gonna storm?”

“Of course I did,” Dustin scoffed. “What do you take me for, an amateur?”

“And I assume El was why the power went out?” Steve sighed.

“Actually, no,” Dustin laughed, obviously proud of himself. “But she would have been if it hadn’t gone out on its own.”

Steve twisted around to give Eddie a look. “I told you so.”

But Eddie had a much more horrified expression on his face, and it took Steve a second to realize why. If Dustin had waited around to see if the power went out, that meant he could’ve seen…

“Wait,” Steve grit out, feeling like his whole body was about to erupt into flames. “How long did you wait around and watch?”

“Just long enough to see you kiss!” Dustin defended himself. And while Steve would admit that was a mildly relieving answer, it still left him thoroughly mortified.

“You little creeps just stood around in the rain to make sure we kissed?” Eddie asked, his voice sounding much squeakier than usual.

“We had raincoats,” El shrugged.

“I needed to be sure you had it covered, Steve,” Dustin said in his most condescending tone. “You weren’t exactly taking initiative!”

Steve didn’t know how Eddie escaped that particular critique, but Steve wasn’t really sure he could stomach any more of this conversation long enough to ask. He felt like he’d just dodged the most appalling bullet of all time—and one that probably would have ruined his sex life at that.

“If I say thank you will you shut up about it? Forever?” Steve asked, completely exasperated and unwilling to hear any more bragging from the little shits.

Eddie turned into Steve’s shoulder to hide a laugh. Even after days of not taking their hands off of each other, little things like Eddie’s breath on his skin still had Steve feeling all mushy.

“Yes,” Dustin said simply.

“Thank you, Dust,” Steve and Eddie both said in unison. Then Eddie added, “Now shoo. Go play with your friends.”

Dustin rolled his eyes, but he was still grinning as he walked away.

Their peace only lasted about three minutes.

“I know I said we’d drop it, but…” Nancy trailed off, glancing between Eddie’s face and Steve’s neck and chest. “Does this mean we can stop our clandestine trips to the blood bank?”

Steve snorted, imagining Eddie and Nancy driving a getaway car full of bagged blood, but he could feel how Eddie tensed behind him.

“Uh, maybe less frequently,” Eddie half-mumbled. “Still not trying to kill my boyfriend.”

“Hey,” Steve turned his head to look Eddie in the eye. “I’m fine, okay? No guilt, please.”

Eddie’s lips twitched every time Steve said please, he noticed, so Steve might’ve been tossing the word around a little more than usual. He figured it couldn’t hurt to be polite.

“That reminds me. I got you something,” Robin perked up and started rummaging around in her tote bag. Steve and Eddie alike leaned forward, trying to get a peek at what she was doing. “Aha! Here.”

Robin held out a large, rattling bottle for Steve to take. He pinched his eyebrows together in confusion as he read the label. “Vitamins?”

“Iron supplements,” Robin said. Steve wasn’t sure how she managed to look both playful and stern about it, but she pulled it off with ease. “Take two every day so you don’t get anemic.”

Dustin apparently found this hilarious, which only set off a chain of everyone else snickering in appreciation at Robin’s gift. Steve hadn’t even realized anyone else had even been paying attention to them, but he couldn’t muster much more than an amused eye roll over their antics. Even Eddie chuckled lightly before pressing a soft kiss into the bare skin of Steve’s shoulder, which made it all that much easier for Steve to refuse to be embarrassed about this, too.

“Thanks Rob,” he said with a genuine smile.

“Oh you’ll thank Robin without issue,” Dustin said, which set Erica and El off again at demanding he stop taking all the credit. With the kids bickering again, Robin leaned in further so only Steve and Eddie could hear her.

“You should probably start eating more salads, too. Leafy greens in particular,” Robin suggested. When Steve just scrunched up his nose at her in reply, she sighed. “It won’t kill you. Might even make you taste better.”

Steve felt his bare chest flush, especially when Eddie’s grip on him tightened just a fraction as he huffed out another laugh. Steve powered through it anyway, shooting Robin a smirk. “I’ve heard I already taste pretty damn good, Robs.”

Eddie’s quick bark of a laugh came with an enthusiastic nod, and now it was Robin’s turn to look disgusted.

“Please don’t ever tell me that again,” she said, even though she was the one who brought it up in the first goddamn place.

Steve just leaned further back into Eddie’s arms and gave her a smug look.

“‘Pretty damn good’ doesn’t touch it, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured in Steve’s ear, too low for anyone else to hear. Then, quick like a cat, Eddie licked a stripe up the side of Steve’s neck until he reached Steve’s ear, and gently nipped at the lobe. It sent a shiver down Steve’s spine as he mentally cursed Eddie for making him want with such ease, and in front of everyone else.

“Eds,” Steve warned over his shoulder. “Not again.”

“What?” Eddie said, voice dripping with faux innocence. “I didn’t even make any popsicles today.”

Steve leaned his head back against Eddie’s shoulder, groaning as much as he laughed. It was going to be a long summer, and Steve couldn’t wait to dive in.

Yeah I definitely have more Vamp!Eddie ideas so. Stay tuned.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fic #stranger things #fanfic #dani's drafts #steve's got a date #vampire!eddie

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rred-gaze · 8 months

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(Chinhands) Tell me about your verdante headcanons

HI i have like. a lot of Jumbled Thoughts about them some of which aren’t even headcanons? idk. ill just throw everything here it’s gonna be long

thoughts on Canon interactions:

-the april fools event was fucking wild BUT there were crumbs like. the implication that they’re stuck together in every universe. vergilius clearly being worried while trying to fix them and telling off ishmael for bashing dante’s head in. shoving his hands in dante’s head and getting them covered in oil and grease. “i’d much rather have this glacial gaze over any other” HELLO? verdante surprisingly wasn’t very popular before but it fucking exploded after this which is GREAT for me because i was starving for years

-vergilius is bitchy in general but he seems to be Slightly nicer to dante. like when they have to revive the sinners for the first time he asks them gently at first (before threatening them when they refuse but still), he literally straight out says “you might be the only one on the bus i can actually converse with”, that part in canto 4.5 where he complains about having to talk with heathcliff and ishmael but after dante expresses their appreciation for it he gets a bit nicer about it and says they can consider it a favor

-vergilius can READ THEIR THOUGHTS? like they didn’t even say this out loud

-in addition to vergilius reading their thoughts dante eventually just expects to be understood by him despite him (supposedly) not being able to hear what they say. they both joke about their conversations being one-sided but. are they really. if a man can’t understand your words but reads your mind/expressions and responds to that in kind so you can properly have a conversation is it really one-sided

-vergilius fucking with them occasionally is very funny. sometimes he just says some long-winded poetic bullshit that just amounts to “fuck you im not explaining this to you” or just says that

-inferno red…red gaze…fuck you guys have matching colors for

actual headcanons ig (me just making shit up):

-they’re loser4loser vergilius in a miserable wet cat way dante in a trips over cracks in the concrete way

-i enjoy them in various forms, realistically i dont think they’d act on their feelings for each other but my favorite is where they kiss and heal because i NEED vergilius to let himself open up to someone so badly. everyone he was close to died </3

-it would take a LONG time for them to get close i think with vergilius. being how he is. he’s trying his best not to get close to anyone and it would be very hard to break down that barrier even a little bit but dante would be very patient with him

-due to aforementioned loved ones dying i think he’d be especially protective of dante and charon

-vergilius shows love very subtly and i think dante would pick up on it but maybe question his intentions or just Why at first

-vergilius seems very touched starved to me so if dante showed him any sort of physical affection he’d melt and lean into it like a very sad cat. i dont think he’d be for PDA at all though…if dante tries to hug him in public he just stands there and waits for them to stop

-i dont think vergilius would hug people often but i imagine him doing it in a really specific way for some reason. one arm around the waist with his face pressed into the shoulder and hair hanging down covering his face depressedly. i think he’d only do it if he was particularly sad and would only give them to dante, one of the children (including garnet and lapis/charon), or someone in his office

-something i noticed is that when he genuinely smiles it’s usually when no one else is looking. but what if dante got to see

-i think vergilius sleeps like garbage due to ptsd, he probably tends to have a lot of nightmares. being held by/holding dante may ease them just a little

-dante is very lost and confused and not very confident in theirself and i just like the idea of vergilius kind of giving them courage but in a very Him way yk what i mean. like when he said their performance has been decent recently

-expanding on how i like verdante kiss and heal vergilius not only carries so much grief and guilt with him at all times but thinks he deserves it for all the horrible things he’s done. he doesn’t even think he deserves to be loved and suffers in silence. he hasn’t talked to anyone about this. opening up to dante about it wouldn’t fix him but i think it’d make him feel a bit better at least. i want SOMEONE to tell him that he doesn’t need to suffer any more than he has and deserves to be cared for. i want vergilius to tell them about the people he cared about so deeply and for someone to see how much love he has to give

-going to angst central now, vergilius canonically at least knew who dante was before their memory loss (said they were a bit of a bigwig before that happened) so if they knew each other and were close there could be the grief in someone you love not even remembering who you are. which would make that the second time it’s happened to him

-the reason vergilius even joined the company in the first place was for the promise that he would get garnet and lapis back. it’s very possible that dante needs to be sacrificed to get this so he’d end up needing to choose between them. i like this as a concept to explore BUT in terms of it in a canon setting in my opinion it literally makes no sense to put that man through any more grief than they already have narratively speaking. projmoon media has always had a theme of the light in the suffocating darkness, there’s never any real “good” endings for anyone but there can be good things for them in the end of their arcs. a bittersweet sorta thing. there is an entire novel dedicated to vergilius and it ends with nothing but pain and suffering for him so it wouldn’t make any sense for all of that to be for nothing

stuff from the divine comedy that i just feel like i should mention somewhere:

-if you don’t know they’re based on the characters from the divine comedy, which is about the spirit of dante’s favorite poet (virgil) leading him through hell. dante really looked up to virgil and regards him as an inspiration who he holds a lot of respect for

-if i remember right virgil is also a bit bitchy to dante in the beginning but they get closer throughout the story

-before paradiso, virgil is unable to accompany dante in his tour of heaven due to being stuck in limbo himself. i cant remember exactly what the text says but it’s meant to be very emotional and dante cries when he has to leave him

in conclusion i’m sick in the head. some of the things i mentioned aren’t inherently romantic and i like the idea of it platonically too, like vergilius just allowing himself to finally open up to someone please god. i do actually hc dante as aroace (im projecting) so! yes dating is still an option but….qprs…..i like all of these options

i think a lot of why i like verdante is because of how invested i am in the both of them separately tbh. makes my favs kiss each other

#i hope this is what you were asking for UH #verdante #asks #long post #👁️‍🗨️

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thesherrinfordfacility · 9 months

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Longwinded anon from yesterday again:) The thing about Crowley's self-contradictory narratives about his Fall, which are a warning that the viewer/reader should PROCEED WITH CAUTION, is that Gaiman writes all of them in ways that don't just diminish Crowley's responsibility, but also diminish just whom he was "hanging out" with. At the end of the day, there is nothing in canon or in Word of God *cough* to suggest that Lucifer & co. are anything other than evil according to our understanding of the term. God is also horrible--the novel and the series both take the bog-standard theological position "God's ways cannot be reduced to human concepts of good and evil" and push it to the logical conclusion--but "Lucy and the boys" are not an improvement, even though Crowley conceals that by talking about them as though they're random teenagers hanging out on the street corner getting up to random teenage mischief. (Insert my irritated rant here about the "God ships it!" trope in this fandom, which in the moral universe of the novel/series has horrific implications.) It's a revolt in which the revolutionary leaders are at best identical to the regime they're revolting against, and produce an outcome that's just as oppressive.

Crowley keeps trying to pretend that he didn't choose to do anything, but he's in a plot where free will means that it's paramount that you admit you have choices, make them, and then take responsibility for the results. Both the novel & the series explicitly come out and say this, in different ways, during the climax at the airfield. Crowley /chose/ to hang out with some terrible people, even though Crowley himself is not fundamentally terrible. He's just morally flawed like Aziraphale is (and Aziraphale's own journey in series one involves realizing that he has also /chosen/ to be with some terrible people and taking action to remedy that). But if you decide to chill out with [insert horrible political group here], then other people get to ask some hard questions and arrive at some hard conclusions about your own politico-moral beliefs. There's been a summary of the standard Vimes plot in Discworld circulating around Tumblr for a while, in which Vimes screws up, realizes that he screwed up, and decides to stop screwing up, but still has to accept the consequences of screwing up. That's also Crowley's plot, by and large, except Crowley so far has not been so great with step four.

hello Longwinded Anon✨ hope you dont mind the delay but after your first ask, and now this one, I wanted to ruminate on it all a little more in the hope i can respond with my own thoughts perhaps a little more intelligently... rather than you catching me when my feed was going beserk and also having to work in human-being world which was (as impeccable cosmic timing wills it so) also very busy - hence brain at the time being the consistency of melted chocolate icing.

for anyone else reading, the previous ask is here along with my original dumbass reply, but full response to that and this current ask are under the cut (she's lengthy, apologies in advance) (no seriously, a huge post but in my defence there is a lot to unpack from these asks)

first off, i think your reflection on how crowley was written, honestly, is exactly how he should be written, or at least is a very authentic way to write him.

i feel like some writers write characters the same way that one raises a child; the situations and dynamics you expose them to, the lessons you teach them... and what - over time - comes out are decisions, thought processes, personality traits and opinions that one is sometimes shocked by, surprised by, and even sometimes appalled by. this to me is the most truthful way you can make a character come alive off the page; they feel like theyve not just stepped fully formed out of someone's imagination, but have been nurtured into being exactly who they were always going to be, and even then may still have some growing to do.

so this is how i see crowley's character, in the abstract. he is, the same as any one of us, a product of his experiences and lessons. it doesnt matter if he only exists on paper or indeed on tv; any well written character will feel like they are a person that sometimes you will be shocked, surprised, or appalled by. you'd hope that whatever situation they come across, they make the right decisions. and that's why crowley being an arguably immoral character is so fascinating to me, and right, correct, and appropriate. i think he's written exactly how he should be written for this reason.

anyway i digress. i see your point about how possibly an overarching concept of 'political allegory', as you succinctly put it, morphed somewhat into being something way more subjective and personal, and possibly wasnt meant to be. but respectfully (genuinely welcome your thoughts here, i think i might have misinterpreted), isnt that the entire point? whatever kaleidoscope the concept of objective morality - the argument of right vs. wrong, good vs. evil - is seen through, doesnt it all boil down to how we think and act as people on the smallest of scales?

to me yes, crowley's self justification of his actions are very reminiscent of the idea of responsibility in command, in that he effectively appears to wash his hands of said responsibility when there is a higher entity to own it for him. there is validity to the nuremberg defence as a concept, but it has to be rationalised against the result - "do the ends justify the means?", as ive said before - and in many peoples lives, we literally justify our actions because we're just doing what we're told.

hardly the same scale as say the apocalypse or mass genocide, granted. but my point stands; morality to me is a fallible construct, same as anything else. why is what is evil, evil? and what is good, good? who decides that? and when is a good action necessary for the sake of evil, and an evil action necessary for the sake of good? doesnt that by definition mean that the good action becomes an evil one, and vice versa? how far does the stain spread when it makes contact?

a lot of what i do in my own job could be considered immoral on paper in actual physical words (and i wont go into further detail for risk of doxxing myself lol). but who is to decide that, when i can justify what i do because im told to do it by far more significant people than myself, and that accountability is removed from me? and also because i know that i am doing it for a good reason? things that on face value, in black and white, seem questionable, until i told you the context in which i do them?

context is key to morality. someone that gives to charity and promotes for good causes to the point of being awarded prestigious titles and rewards can be found to have essentially done it in order to commit evil atrocities. and suddenly, that evil taints the good immediately... the good even amplifies the evil of that initial action. what was initially evil is now even more evil because the conduit was something good.

context, and full, complete context, is not only key, but it is inescapably necessary when discussing morality.

this is where i come back to my interpretation of not only aziraphale and crowley, but good omens in general. the bureaucratic setting for this story's concept of good and evil trivialises this, and i think its meant to. the sterile nature of heaven/hell in GO is the perfect backdrop because i think it makes you as the reader/viewer misguidedly downplay the concept of morality, when instead as the reader you should be seeing it even more obviously than before.

yes its obviously comedic and very droll - and i love it equally for that reason; most of us have all had shitty office jobs and equally shitty bosses - but to me the main thing i take away from the sterile, efficient nature of penthouse heaven and the messy, filthy chaos of basement hell is that evil has nowhere to hide in the former, and good is practically a beacon in the latter.

crowley to me - for all the things that i love about him - is the character out of our duo that actively warps amd distorts the context. he plainly chooses to remain blind to certain aspects, because, frankly, it suits him. he completely disregards that he is in fact in charge of his actions, and that he alone is accountable for them. "but he loves the earth, wants to save it, he's threatened by hell, he's traumatised from the fall, he just wants a home", yes, that's all possibly true, and thats the context, but all of it is to his own benefit.

(i will add here that the descriptor of crowley as a "proto-Marxist with demon-class consciousness" was - well, to this house comprising of two political history enthusiasts, VERY funny)

he is, first and foremost a demon, and it's not a demons job to be altruistic, that's true. and crowley has moments of kindness yes (debatable book vs show imo), but does that justify his actions? him doing a bad thing (planning to kill a child) for a good reason (save the world) - shouldnt that, by the same logic, stain the good? in my opinion, it does. because he wants to save the earth for his own ends (which to be fair to him- absolutely understandable), but saving humanity seems to be just a byproduct. and in the same vein, just because he is under pressure and is scared, does not mean that he has any moral high ground in tempting aziraphale to kill warlock.

i still cannot fathom how anyone would try to trick their friend (crush? lover? partner?) into committing such an act. antichrist or not, killing an eleven year old boy. in the show specifically, aziraphale evidently displays discomfort with the idea, and abruptly shakes off the temptation and changes the subject. but even when aziraphale is clearly upset by the prospect, crowley pushes. and pushes. silver tongue indeed. to me, and this again would be a separate post, makes me wonder how convenient it has been all along for crowley to be friends with aziraphale. his feelings may have developed since or he may have had an initial crush, I don't know, but how much of that emerging and later established friendship went hand-in-hand with aziraphale just simply being useful to crowley?

theres no apology for the warlock temptation, and this to me is because aziraphale either doesn't realise that he did what he did, or because he's choosing to dismiss it; either option shows the huge amount of blind and arguably naive faith that aziraphale has in crowley (not going over this again, but ive touched on this here, but put it this way - aziraphale really has his faults where faith is concerned, and imo is part of why he and crowley came to verbal blows about how to handle armageddon - aziraphale has real issues with faith and pedestals). and like you intimated, anon, does crowley realise this? take advantage of this, because it suits him? yes, i think he does.

honestly congratulations to anyone who has made it this far (including you, anon), but the party isn't over yet!

so i made a post earlier about crowley's fall, and how obvious it now seems (anon may agree or disagree) that crowley's reason for falling is either complete bullshit, or was concocted by a higher power than himself. now i said jokingly in the tags that i hope its the latter because im a sucker for a It Was All For A Reason trope, the romantic that i am, but of course it may be neither, or even a bit of both. only time will tell, just have to wait and see.

but in response to your point about the difference (or there lack of) between god and the archangels, and 'lucifer and the guyyyys', it too (as i think youre getting at) demonstrates to me the differences in the respective definitions of revolution vs rebellion. a power vacuum that is replaced with an equally shit alternative is not change, progressive or inert; its just an insurrection that only succeeds to change the letterhead on the stationery.

i take it from the next bit of your ask that you consider free will to be a complete, comprehensive concept in heaven; that they are free to ask questions, to hang out with who they want etc. and i completely agree based on those examples; it must exist. but i come back to my previous point on whether (in essence) morality can truly be defined without context, and if so how this works with free will.

so, i appreciate that there must be the concept of fear in heaven if angels are discouraged (forbidden?) from questioning god, but is there any concept of punishment in heaven at this point, do you think?

my understanding is that there isn't; that falling wasnt a concept until The Fall, so what else could happen to an angel that starting exercising free will a bit too far? do you think it would follow the same bit (refrained from the word 'gimmick' here) as heaven being a corporate office; if you ask god a question she doesn't like, do you get stuck on the recycling roster? /j

the archangels are portrayed as being practically morally vacant; is that not similarly punishable? i guess what im leading to is: do you think crowley, at this point, whilst able to exercise free will, even understood the implications of hanging out with these people? would he have continued to do so if he had had the benefit of experience to know why they were a Bad Thing that he Shouldnt Get Involved With - experience of which presumably he didnt have before he fell?

obviously this doesnt invalidate the simple fact that crowley doesnt appear to have learnt from his experiences when he rises again as a demon and up until where his story is now. but if crowley is still mentally and emotionally stuck at the moment in time that he fell, stuck in that moment like a perpetually shaken snowglobe, unable to accept that that was the consequence of his actions, does that say more about his character, or more about whether his fall was justifiable in the first place? or... is that the point?

i hope you don't mind that i barely talked about aziraphale; my mental acuity has dropped significantly in the last two hours, but in any case i hope to see you in my asks again soon, anon✨

#good omens #crowley #not a shitpost but its good omens babyyyy #as may be abundantly clear from this post #i have a habit of Not Getting To The Point #and a similarly frustrating habit of talking about stuff noone asked for #but enjoy i... guess?#ask #tldr: rhi gets on her uneducated philosophical bullshit once again #personal #because of the personal reference that i may live to regret #the legend of the longwinded anon✨

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radioiaci · 2 months

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HC: Alastor is intelligent, calculating, and manipulative, but his desire to be more of a showman supersedes his intelligence sometimes. He does his best to cover his mistakes with more showmanship, when possible. And he'll certainly talk his way into thinking and feeling as though he is/was/always will be correct. Which makes him really fucking annoying to talk to sometimes. He will not apologize for it.

More on this topic but about the writer below:

Conversely, I am very stupid, sometimes struggle with reading into situations/conversations/implications, and as a result, sometimes my characters may make missteps that I don't always intend and sometimes it can be easy to take advantage of that.

That's not to say that anyone should change THEIR character reactions as a result, but just keep in mind that I try very hard to make sure I catch everything before I respond to something but if I don't, I am sorry aaaaa. Please don't take it to mean that Alastor (or any other character I play, I guess) is stupid or bad at the core of their characterization as a result.

Playing a supposed "villain" character is difficult when my own writing mistakes make them seem less threatening when that's not what I intend at all. And as always, it's a struggle to make sure that they're seen as the threats they actually are when sometimes I do a little silly mistake here or there.

Nobody's made me feel this way thus far here SO IF YOU'RE STRESSED, PLEASE DON'T BE, but I just want to preface my rp here with that now that I am playing with more people that I'm not wholly accustomed to playing with lol. It's a huge reason why I stress out a bit about playing canon characters. I don't want people to make them into jokes.

ANYWAY if you read this, thank u I appreciate u. <3

BACK TO OUR NORMAL PROGRAMMING.

#⧊ hellish headcanon ⧊#▶ after hours broadcast ▶#[ OOC stuff under the read more ]

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homenecromancer · 1 month

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I’m absolutely not getting into it because I no longer have college-student levels of energy to write posts all day, but I sometimes find myself in the Dune tag looking wistfully at a post like. Hey. Nice thoughts, I appreciate your willingness to engage with a text on a deeper level. However. Before we can engage on the same plane, you gotta go read Frank Herbert’s Wikipedia page and at least one science fiction story by Isaac Asimov, Arthur C. Clarke, or Robert Heinlein. Then come back and we can talk.

There are reasons for those selections, of course.

Frank Herbert was a very specific type of guy that I feel like is almost extinct today — firmly, solidly a Republican, but also into nature conservation and ecology. I’m having trouble articulating the specifics, but these are the kind of guys who are comfortable acknowledging “yeah, we need to take care of the environment, because I want my grandkids to be able to hunt and fish like I did”. I don’t think Frank Herbert was this way himself, but this is the type of guy who was still trying to live out the white American myth of the frontier in the 20th century. That type of person still exists, but, like. The modern tradwife who wants to retvrn probably believes that government could be an OK thing as long as her kind of people — Christian nationalists, not to be too plain about it — were in charge. Herbert was a “don’t trust the government, Watergate helped make that more obvious” guy who didn’t think we should be in Vietnam. Point being: do not mistake Frank Herbert’s concern for environmental balance as something that’s coming from a left-wing point of view.

And the science fiction reading is because — after 60 years, a lot of science fiction is in some way responding to Dune. In the same way, Dune is responding to its own early-1960s zeitgeist — the writers I’ve named enjoy enough lingering popularity that it wouldn’t be hard to find work of theirs to sample. Dune presents something within spec for science fiction of its time: a teenage protagonist, who has special abilities that put him above his peers, travels to a new planet, finds himself in danger, meets a native girl, rises in the esteem of her people, and eventually gets his revenge by/while gaining great power.

And the whole time Frank Herbert is looking the reader in the eye and going “you do understand that this is bad, right”. There’s a whole chapter where one character effectively turns to the reader and says as much. “No more terrible disaster could befall your people than for them to fall into the hands of a Hero.” Dune Messiah leans on this a bit more, in a curious way — Dune definitely doesn’t avoid showing violence, and quite a lot of it. But it does end by telling the reader that what comes next is war on a galactic scale, war on the kind of scale other science fiction books aren’t shy of showing.

When we pick up after twelve years of holy war, Dune Messiah refuses to do more than allude to the events of that war. You can go read Starship Troopers if you want to see interstellar war being fought. Herbert’s here to rub the reader’s nose in that interest in blood-and-guts, and to follow the implications of his hero’s actions. You’re here because Paul became Emperor, and you want to see your guy rewarded for his deeds? Well, the book starts with a character saying this, to put it in the reader’s mind before they go on: “…Paul Atreides lost something essential to his humanity before he could become Muad’Dib.” [This is an slightly edited quote: in context, the speaker is describing the views of another character. What matters is that the thought is put before the reader.]

You can be the hero of that Robert Heinlein novel, but the cost will be heavy. For everyone.

I was not there in December 1963 when the first part of “Dune World” was published in the pages of Analog. But the more that I learn about the world that surrounded Frank Herbert as he wrote, the more I feel I understand about his work. It’s fitting that Dune begins with Irulan taking pains to place her subject in his time and place; you get more out of Dune by doing the same with it.

#marlowe talks dune #also there are ppl in the tag who are clearly still in college or like grad school #i am completely self-taught in analyzing texts AND have not done so for a grade in five years #i’m rusty at best. we’re not gonna be on the same rhetorical level #dune

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thetriggeredhappy · 2 years

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(tw: ed) i want to say from the beginning that you don't have to read this at all but i recently read "chosen or otherwise deserves..." and it struck a chord with me. you're an excellent writer and really got deep into the matter without it being too much. the way that you've written sniper has always made me point and go "he's just like me!"

there were a few moments in there that reminded me a lot of when i was trying to recover from an ed on my own because i had tried my damned hardest to not let anyone find out during more intense cycles. the focus on him eating a meal (or consistently snacking) at least once a day in particular really spoke to me. if you don't mind me asking: was that implication intentional or was it something you hadn't really thought about? or do you not remember because that's totally understandable lol

um, thank you so much if you do respond to this. it's a lot of explanation for a simple question because i'm tired and got worried about commenting on the actual fic

(thanks for tossing the e.d. trigger warning up there, i’m gonna add a few more to my response here: warnings for discussion of depression, anxiety, self-destructive behaviors, etc etc)

short answer: yes

long answer: when i write characters, in particular from their point of view, and further in particular when that fic focuses on mental health and emotional well-being, consider a healthy 95% of what i write vis-a-vis symptoms and behaviors to be intentional. not to talk too much about my factual personal life (which i don’t enjoy doing even on good days, i’m a very private person by nature), but comorbitity is my middle name, and what little i don’t write from personal experience, i write from the experience of having others around me who are willing to openly discuss the day-to-day of living with debilitating emotional states. the very few times i receive a comment or feedback about a symptom i’ve written that i didn’t intend, it’s usually because i’d assumed that the symptom was a fact of life, or a side-effect of being (insert facet of self-identity that i possess). in that way, comments like this one can sometimes be pretty enlightening for me, or for other people, and i appreciate them a lot—sometimes it’s like… a version of me, many years ago, when that symptom was more prominent in my life, was noticed. like someone saw it, and acknowledged it. i think it would’ve been good for me, and it makes me feel better to know that other people get to feel noticed and acknowledged when they read about it.

(in this case, i absolutely knew this was an e.d. sort of problem already—my relationship with food has been complicated for the majority of my life, by now, even if i’m getting there, slowly but surely. it helps that i’m a pretty good cook thanks to perfectionism, and live with people who enjoy being cooked for.)

i really need to update “chosen or otherwise” at some point. i keep meaning to, every few months i’ve started drafting another chapter for it, but there’s other things on my list too that are being pretty distracting. it definitely doesn’t feel finished, as it is.

#shut up me #everybody talks #thanks for the ask! also i feel you abt being nervous abt comments #honestly i’m too nervous to answer comments half the time. its a lifestyle

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transphilza · 2 years

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on second thought, i’m gonna talk about the situation Once, right here. don’t mind me!

i know i said i wouldn’t discuss this extensively but i am at core a researcher and someone who prioritizes knowing as much as i can about a situation before deciding anything about it. so i’ve done my digging into the accusations and things and i’d like to summarize the main points as well as discuss how things have played out a bit. i won’t be answering asks about this, i just wanted to put it all in one place, cause this is how i process information, lol.

there are two aspects to these allegations: dream is being accused of housing an abuser, and manatreed is being accused of being that abuser. <- this is important. i’ve seen some dteam mains, who probably haven’t seen the extent of the original posts, stating that these allegations only affect manatreed and that He is the only one who needs to explain, but he isn’t, sadly. as of now there is no way for manatreed to defend himself without doxxing himself - which is what op wants. op specifically asked manatreed to post a redacted version of a license if he wanted to prove himself innocent… despite the fact being that even while blacking out parts of it, it is incredibly easy for a license to be traced. for manatreed as of right now there isn’t anything he can do other than doxx himself or proceed with legal action.

dream’s situation is…. a bit messier. there’s the court records linking the abuser to an address which has been associated with dream and sapnap. i cant say whether or not this actually is their address, of course. this past address (with sapnap) has been doxxed, and old private photos been uncovered in an attempt to link him to this person (the abuser) who is believed to be seen in childhood photos with dream. people have also doxxed his family members - if you weren’t aware, this is why dream’s private twitter was deactivated, because people were responding with doxxed information about his sister. i don’t even know what dream is supposed to do here, honestly; his side of things is a lot more confusing because it isn’t as cut and dry as just “is he or isn’t he this person on these documents?” … it implicates him in extremely personal matters. the doxxed information could be incorrectly linked or otherwise fabricated, sure. i’ve read some people saying that the timeline op uses doesn’t line up, and that dream/sapnap may have lived at that address but at a different time than the abuser. dream could’ve actually been housing this person with the criminal record; but he may or may not have been aware of such record even existing and may have been simply trying to help a friend. he may have been lied to or misled by this person. the absolute worst case scenario, which obviously at this point is just as impossible to prove as everything else, is that dream knowingly housed an abuser and created a several-month-long ruse to eventually give said abuser a platform. given dreams past (without saying anything more than that he has past experiences with domestic abuse, which i believe were also discussed in the past due to another doxx) i find this to be unlikely. he immediately removed a previous dsmp recruit for abuse allegations before. it would be career suicide for him to do this knowingly, and dream is really stupid sometimes but i seriously don’t think he’s that stupid… but that judgement also comes back to the fact that i have my own biases toward dream, so.

the other most important thing i think people are ignoring is that THIS DID NOT COME FROM A VICTIM. this was not a victim speaking out. do not say “believe the victim!” for this situation — the victim likely never wanted this information to be publicized, and she is being doxxed too. this came from people who intentionally dig up personal information about people and spread it on social media, not a victim.

for me, the allegations themselves are far more important than how dream (and sapnap by proxy) and manatreed have responded to them. although the lore stream does make me feel sick: at first i figured it must have been scheduled and they were just shit at reading a room, but given dream tweeting about an hour before asking what he should stream and no prior hype being given by sapnap, who likes to plan and hype his lore streams…. it’s fair to assume this was really shitty and insensitive damage control. in terms of the initial tweets, however, i understand why dream at the very least responded how he did: this is an absolutely terrifying situation where a lot of extremely private and personal information about both himself and his family is being broadcasted to the internet, where a lot of people dislike him. i seriously don’t blame him for that “i’m scared for my family” thing - i don’t think that was him playing the victim, i think it’s just… true. this is scary, whether he did or didn’t house the abuser.

lastly, i want to talk about the future, which for most of us is the scariest implication of it all. i’m going to tell you the two outcomes in terms of my blog as well

best case scenario(s): manatreed isn’t guilty, or if manatreed is guilty, dream publicly renounces their association. the documents linking his address to the abuser were either false or there were extenuating circumstances to why dream was housing them (i.e. dream was unaware of their criminal record). and honestly, for me, even if he was somewhat aware of their record, i don’t think it’s immoral to try and privately support someone you know who has done bad things in an effort to make them better. a court record doesn’t tell us everything about this situation; there could be many reasons dream would want to help someone get back on their feet despite a criminal offense. in my opinion, if this abuser is not manatreed, then it’s none of our business. in this case; my blog remains entirely normal, i will continue to support dream and his community on here (albeit perhaps less frequently, depending.)

worst case scenario: manatreed is proven guilty and dream continues to associate with him. and/or: it’s proven that dream was aware he was an abuser this whole time. dream choosing to give a platform to this abuser is what i worry about most. who he chooses to let sleep in his house is none of my fucking business; who he chooses to lend his massive audience to is. if this were the case, this has serious implications for the dream smp as a whole, and as such, would change this blog’s content. in this situation, i would no longer post about dream nor anyone else associated with the situation. i would continue to post about the dsmp should it continue, or in any form that it does continue in, focusing primarily on characters less connected to dream.

this blog, as much as i post about the dsmp, has always been cc-centered though. in terms of me, as long as wilbur and ranboo (among a few others; mostly sbi/bench trio) continue to make content, i’ll be around. but yeah

here’s hoping things work out

#ok to rb!#writing things out is how i process my emotions so yea #manatreed situation #cw discourse #cw negativity #tw abuse #tw doxxing

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moonlit-reveriee · 3 years

Text

Baby Blue

technoblade x fem!reader

concept: techno is scared of ‘corrupting’ the reader, but the reader’s kinda into it...

content warning // NSFW, virgin!reader, very minor angst?, small argument that gets resolved

listen to this while you read: BBBlue (Single) by Olivver the Kid

(this fic was heavily inspired by the lyrics of this song, so i highly recommended giving it a listen!)

───※ ·❆· ※───

When Techno found out you were a virgin, he was terrified. Not necessarily of the thought itself, but of the implications.

He’d never forget the look on your face when you told him. You tried to be casual about it, but he knew you well enough to spot the dusting of pink across your cheeks. You nuzzled yourself closer into his side. Whether out of embarrassment or something else entirely, he couldn’t tell. All he could feel was his heart dropping as the voices chanted at him to “ruin her”

Of course you, his pure sweet angel, would be a virgin. He once again crumbled under the idea that you had chosen him. How on earth could a person like you even think of being with a beast like him. Yet alone, giving up your virginity to him.

He hated how horribly turned on he was by the thought of taking it.

The voices had been relentless about it ever since. They were hyper focused on your every move, twisting every thought of his into something promiscuous. When you rolled out of bed in the morning and stretched, a small sigh escaping your lips, it was endless cries of “make her do that again” “you should fuck those moans out of her” “make her scream”

While making breakfast together in the morning, they wouldn’t stop telling him to “bend her over the counter” “take it right here”

Even at times where he was alone, the voices preoccupied him with endless thoughts of you. He was fairly certain they had forced him to imagine every possible way in which he could have you. “imagine fucking her against the wall” “you can be gentle for the first time y’know” “she’d feel so good writhing underneath us” “press her face into the mattress instead” “make her get on her knees and suck you off” “she’ll be such a pretty little slut for us”

He tried to take care of himself as often as he could, but it was becoming impossible to keep up with. There were only so many times a day he could jerk himself off alone behind locked doors. He was desperate, and sexually frustrated to say the least.

He felt disgusting for it.

After a week of this torment, he could barely even look at you yet alone touch you without the voices and his own guilt pounding against his skull. You couldn’t even think about broaching the subject again, because he was avoiding physical contact like the plague. He wouldn’t come to bed until he knew you were asleep, and would leave long before you woke.

As much as he tried to hide it, you could tell he was tired. Something was wrong, but you knew that he’d never just tell you about his problems unprompted. Techno was insufferably stubborn in that way. After several days of avoiding your gaze and leaning away from your touch, you chose to confront him.

“Techno”, you called for his attention quietly, trying to sound stern while remaining gentle with him. He didn’t turn to fully face you, but he glanced at the spot on the wall just above your head.

You struggled to find the words you wanted to say, so you settled on telling him, “Techno, you look tired.”

He turned his attention away from you. “Just a lot of work around the house this week. I’ll be fine after I rest.”

“Then come to bed with me.” You saw the way his body tensed and tilted away from you at that simple suggestion.

“I just need to write a couple letters first. You can go ahead of me.”

“Techno...”, you whined, daring to take a step closer to him. He gave you an almost panicked look, “why does it feel like you’ve been avoiding me?”

“I haven’t been avoiding you”, he responded quickly, trying to look through you instead of at you.

“Yes you have”, you responded firmly. A flash of guilt washed over his face at your tone. “You haven’t kissed or touched me for nearly a week now. I don’t even know for sure if you sleep in the same bed as me anymore. Fuck, you barely even talk to me.”

Angry tears threatened to spill down your cheeks, but you wanted to hold them in. Techno felt his chest tighten at the sight of it. He instinctively turned and reached out to comfort you, but forced himself to freeze.

“There”, you said, gesturing towards him, “just like that. You’re stopping yourself. Why are you doing that?”

He repeatedly opened and closed his fists at his side, wanting to have any conversation other than this one.

“[y/n], there’s just a lot going on in my mind right now”, he said. It wasn’t a complete lie. “I just need to work though it.”

“Then let me help you.”

“No”, he responded a little too quickly, “I- I mean, I just don’t want to talk about it with you yet...”

“Why not?”, you retorted, trying to squeeze any information you could out of him.

“I just don’t, okay? It’s uncomfortable, I don’t want to talk about it yet.”

“... is this about me being a virgin?”

“I never said that”, he replied, but the tension in his shoulders was enough to tip you off.

“Ah geez Technoblade, if it was that much of a problem for ya, you should have just told me”, you said sarcastically, “instead of avoiding all physical contact for a like week straight!”

“It’s not a problem, [y/n].”

“Certainly doesn’t feel that way.”

Techno huffed in frustration, grabbing a fistful of his hair at the root. He wasn’t sure if he was more upset with himself, or the fact that a few of the voices were still begging him to “please fuck her already”

“Love, I wasn’t avoiding you because I didn’t want it. They”, he tapped a finger against the side of his skull, “they want it so badly. It’s driving me insane.”

He breathed in and out shakily, trying to gauge your expression in the brief moments before he continued.

“I’m a monster. I’ve spilt more blood than anyone every should in a single lifetime. My appearance is more beast than man.”

He looked up briefly to find you staring right at him, a tight-lipped frown upon your face.

“What does that have to do with any of this?”

“I- ... I don’t want to corrupt your innocence”, he admitted.

“What on earth do you mean by that?”

“[y/n], you’re so perfect”, he answered almost breathlessly, “you’re so kind and so pure. Just living with me does enough to taint your reputation, I don’t wanna-“

He cut himself off to swallow thickly. He almost seemed scared of the words he was going to say next.

“I don’t want to ruin this part of you either...”

A heavy silence filled the tiny sitting room of techno’s cottage. In those few seconds, your eyes widened ever so slightly as his words suddenly clicked in your mind. This hulking boar of a man, an undisputed war criminal, was scared. He was scared of damaging you, your reputation, or your recently revealed ‘innocence’. Compared to himself, he saw you as a pure being who could be tainted by unwholesome thoughts.

If what he said about the voices was true, then his actions of the past few days would’ve made sense for him.

“Oh techno...”, you muttered softly, tentatively placing a hand on his jaw. His posture was curled inward, making him look small despite his size. He was stiff at first, but allowed you to lift his gaze to meet yours. He searched your eyes desperately for an indication of your reaction. You gave him a reassuring smile.

“Do you remember when we first met?”

A small wave of confusion washed over his face, but he nodded anyways. “It was at the festival...”

“That’s right”, you said, moving the hand on his face down to rest over his shoulder, “and do you remember what I did that day?”

“You threw an axe into Schlatt’s shoulder”, he answered, watching as the scene played out in his memory.

You lived with Niki in her bakery at the time, and witnessed firsthand the injustice she faced during Schlatt’s presidency. As the chaos after Tubbo’s execution occurred, you took the opportunity to hurl your axe where Schlatt stood upon his podium. The blow wasn’t fatal, but that wasn’t necessarily your goal. You just wanted to see the man in pain.

“It was a lucky shot really”, you admitted, “I wasn’t even aiming properly.” That managed to draw a small smile onto Techno’s lips.

“And do you remember”, you continued, “when I tried to confront the Butcher Army by myself?”

He grimaced at the thought. You had told him you just needed to make a quick trip to L’manburg for some supplies, leaving him at home alone to recover from the previous day’s events. You returned that evening with a sprained wrist and a couple large bruises forming on your body. None of them were trying to kill you, but you took a pretty good beating from Quackity just for trying to confront them.

“Why are you bringing all of this up now?”, he asked.

“Because”, you said, “this is the evidence that will support my next point.”

He looked bewildered by that statement, but continued to listen.

“I’m not a perfect person”, you resumed, “I have blood on my hands just like you do. I know it’s hard to compare to you, but I’m not devoid of my own sins. I can be mean, I’ve hurt people. I’m not a pure, angelic being who would quiver at a single inappropriate thought. I think you forget that sometimes.”

He let your words swirl around in his head; he couldn’t deny the logic in them. The evidence prevented him from denying the truth of your statement. He could almost be mad that you’d talked him into a corner, but he was more overjoyed at the fact that you knew him well enough to do so.

“And you know...”, you spoke quietly, letting your hand fall down to rest on his chest, “if you did somehow ‘corrupt my innocence’ as you say... I really wouldn’t mind that.”

Techno’s breath hitched in his throat. There were a brief few moments, maybe minutes, where he just stared at you. Then his lips were on yours; sudden and clumsy, but passionate. You gripped the fabric of his shirt as he grabbed at your waist, desperate to have you in his arms again.

“I’m sorry, I had to”, he muttered, his lips left hovering a hair’s breadth away from yours.

“You’re so silly sometimes”, you sighed affectionately, rubbing small circles into his collarbone. He gave you a gentle smirk before pressing another kiss into your lips.

“I’m sorry darling, I really am”, he said as he drew you into a tight hug. He took in your scent and the feel of your skin for the first time in days. It felt like he could survive off the feeling of your arms wrapped around his body alone. He wondered why he ever let himself be depraved of this.

“You know I trust you, right?”, you spoke with your face pressed into his chest.

“I’m not sure why, but yes.”

You decided not to reprimand him for saying that. You could help him unpack all that later. Instead, you brought your head up to whisper in his ear.

“You have my full and unconditional consent to take my virginity whenever you’re ready.”

Techno inhaled and held his breath, though for what, he wasn’t sure. It took a while for the full weight of those words to sink in. He leaned back to stare at your face, bringing one of his large and shaky hands up to cup your cheek.

“Are you sure?”, his eyes were wide with trepidation, practically pleading with you to tell him the truth. You leaned into his palm, indulging in the feeling of his skin on yours.

“I want you, techno. I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

Techno was lost in your words. The sudden absence of guilt left his heart light and airy in his chest. For the first time in days, the voices were only a gentle murmur.

“she’s so beautiful” “she wants you” “make her feel good” “show her how special she is” “make her smile” “she’ll be so pretty” “she’s always pretty” “be gentle, no need to rush”

“make love to her”

“... I think I’m ready now.”

───※ ·❆· ※───

ayyyy guess who finally finished writing something!!!

parts of this feel a little rushed but ehhhhhh i was just excited to finally post it. i looove writing techno as an extremely self-conscious character who’s too caught up in their own head to see how ridiculous they’re being. so, this was a treat for me to write

i hope you enjoyed :D

-moonlight

#c!techno #red:moon #mcyt x reader #techno x reader #technoblade x reader #mcyt smut #techno smut

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killerbananas · 2 years

Text

Cajole

Zeke is jealous of Reiner’s eyes on you, but he can’t let you know that.

🔞 mdni | masterlist | 713 wc | Zeke x gn!reader x Reiner

Warnings: smut; boozy sex/dubcon, Dom/sub tones, come play/eating, unprotected sex, facial, threesome, rough sex, throat fucking, creampie/inside, throat bulge, masochism, voyeurism, masturbation, fingering, Zeke being manipulative, ??

AN: This is an old work of mine previously posted on tumblr.

Original request: *shakes cup* spare zeke and reiner threesome ma’am ??? spare zeke and reiner threesome??

Original response: Babe whatever you got in that cup made this grow legs. Bottle it and throw it at people. For science. And pure chaotic amusement 🥰😘

Zeke orchestrates trouble by bringing Reiner over for a purposefully light dinner and drinks around the table as you find Reiner laying more and more obvious looks on you. You can feel his eyes tracing your mouth with that blossoming hue across his cheeks, stuttering as he responds once realization dawns on him that he'd been questioned and should be answering but fuck if he knew what.

Zeke drops double entendres more and more frequently as the wine pours and you notice how he's already tenting his pants because he had slipped a teasing plan or concocted scheme to Reiner before inviting him over. He knows how much Reiner wants to fuck you and he's going to see it tonight.

Reiner will slip up at some point between the way Zeke's antagonizing cracks stay lodged in his mind and how he can't help but think about how soft your lips seem and wondering how they'd look wrapped around his cock.

You can tell very well and good when Zeke is cooking shit up. He's cocky and confessed before how he'd watch another man fuck you just so he could prove to you that his dick and how he fucks you is uniquely addicting and something only he knows how to provide. He reads you like a book sometimes, how needy you are before you realize it yourself even, damn arrogantly accurate fucker.

It only takes a look, one Zeke receives from you often, to make him feel a bit chastised and get to his point. You can feel the implications and tension building, breath paused as he finishes his cup and promptly tells Reiner to fuck you over the table in thanks for the meal.

Zeke naturally waits to do so until Reiner is also sipping for that spurt he knows he can cajole from him. It's almost too easy, but it still makes him giddier than he outwardly conveys.

Once Reiner can tell you really do seem to be more than absolutely fine with this if your smirking countenance and hand balled in his shirt, demanding a kiss mean a damn thing… How can he resist?

Reiner is careful and steady as he can be in his state, but once he hits his stride, he is fucking handsy. He wraps them around you and maneuvers you to warm up on his fingers because we know he's probably got enough girth and length to leisurely wreck you on. He leaves bruises because he's so overcome every time you moan at his roughness. Poor big lustdumb lug cannot help it.

Zeke starts stroking himself when Reiner begins pushing his head into your slickness and hisses at how sensitive his own swollen member is at the sight. He's fucking your throat before Reiner seats himself fully inside you because he thought he could hold out, but the picture is too tempting.

Reiner is soft and gentle as he knows his size is always a hurdle to vault as he splits you. It's when your hips start doing that squirming writhing knee-jerk plea for friction that he has to watch himself because he wants to just slam you down into place like Zeke is, but he doesn't want to come that fast either. So he tries to rehearse a mantra of slow strokes that kindle your fire up as he watches Zeke bulge down your throat before popping back out to let you breathe.

Reiner fucks your body at a pace that builds the fire to molten electricity, spasming your limbs into twitching responsively as his hand works between your legs to pull you into his madness of lust that is tightening his sac before he even appreciates it. His thrusts become needy and sporadic when he loses himself to your catalytic orgasm that grips him with a fervor passionate enough to pull a beautifully broken moan from him.

Zeke outright refuses to admit that it's this very noise that makes him burst hot shots of white over your face well the hell before he ever intended to come.

It mentally reinforces his then-verbalized vote for another round as soon as he can get you to lick them both spotless with your mouth while Reiner cleans up the mess between your legs in a likewise fashion.

Taglist: @antoxsmith @bakidose @butwestillrememberyourname @casuallyck @chaotic-nick @eyesucket @pockcock @theinariakuma

#aot #snk #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin #aot smut #writing with kbee #aot x reader smut #zeke jaeger imagines #zeke yeager imagines #zeke yeager #zeke yaeger x reader #zeke jaeger #zeke jeager x reader #reiner braun x reader #reiner x reader #reiner braun #reiner x y/n #dubc

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paintingcranes · 2 years

Note

hi! what are your thoughts on bloodbending in atla and it being framed as this "evil", morally corrupt form of bending? do you think it could have been presented in another manner and something that is capable of both good and bad?

Hi anon! I'm so sorry it took me a million years to respond to this ask - I was busy with life stuff when it first arrived and then it completely slipped my mind. But please know that it's sweet you wanted to hear my opinion :)

Within both the show and ATLA fandom (though honestly, maybe more in the fandom than the show itself), I think bloodbending sort of became a representation of "Katara's dark side," and can be interpreted as "proof" that if she succumbs to the anger and grief inside her, the result will be destruction. That implication upsets me, because as anyone who has read my fics probably knows, I think Katara has always needed to express her emotions (including the dark ones) to the absolute fullest in order to both heal and continue being her most empathetic self. ATLA's idea of anger being destructive is reinforced when Hama (and Jet)'s storylines suggest that colonized people who "give in to their anger" become villains, which again is frustrating. That being said, I think sometimes in an effort to talk about how bloodbending can be good, people in fandom swing in the opposite direction and don't recognize that being able to reach into someone's body and take full control of it is psychologically scary (to me at least). Even though this is a kid's show, racialized women like Katara know the threat of sexual and physical violence intimately, and I think gaining the ability to reach inside someone's body can be triggering and traumatic in itself - I would personally find it much more emotionally distressing than just simply dropping a rock on someone's head or even burning them. It also does bring up the philosophical question of how much power someone should have to control another human's body. I think there should be more emphasis on how bloodbending was created from a place of deep grief and trauma (Hama being imprisoned for decades) and at the end of the day, it was the only thing that allowed Hama to escape the prison and her oppressors. It was, in that way, the only choice this colonized woman had for survival (regardless of her later actions). So I think bloodbending represents the fact that war, colonization, and trauma often forces people to reach into dark parts of themselves to survive, which I don't think should be demonized, even if those acts of survival leave emotional scars and are very morally grey. Even though I really do not like the way the narrative made Hama a "villain" by having her go after villagers, Katara similarly learns bloodbending to survive a traumatic experience of fighting a woman she cared for, and I would argue that hunting her mother's killer likely involved similar triggers to invasion and death that made it natural for her brain to turn to bloodbending again. Writing this answer very much makes me want to explore a potential storyline of Katara accepting how bloodbending has left emotional scars on her, but that she holds no regret or anger at herself for it, because once again, it was a product of the war that the world forced on her. So basically, I see bloodbending as a survival mechanism that is easy to misuse. I personally can't really see Katara being able to teach it to others, as that would involve reaching into her own trauma and sharing the scariest part of it. Also, since bloodbending evolved over decades from Hama's suffering of forced imprisonment, and Katara is able to pick it up so fast partly because she is the most powerful waterbender in the world and partly because of her trauma, I don't think there's much risk of any random person learning the how to do it by accident (like I don't see some dude in the swamp accidentally learning he can control someone's body). In my opinion, letting bloodbending die with Katara could be a statement in itself about how she's worked hard to create a world in which women don't have to turn to this type of bending (or make similarly traumatic choices) in order to survive. I'm not sure if all of this answered your question, and I suppose in a way I made bloodbending sound more negative than I intended, but what I mean to say is that the tools people adopt in order to survive can be painful, even if they don't regret using them, because they were compelled to do so by the worst circumstances imaginable. Of course, there are many other ways to interpret bloodbending, and people are free to disagree with me - I know others have talked about it being a form of medical healing, which is a cool idea. These are just my thoughts that I was happy to share, so I hope they were interesting!!

#katara #bloodbending #my asks #my writing #colonization #trauma #war #zutara #tagging zutara because it's the fandom my katara centric stories are most connected to

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reidyoulikeabook · 3 years

Text

Sometimes You Just Don’t Know the Answer

4 times you don’t know the answer, and the 1 time you do

This is the 2nd part to Personal Google! (You don’t have to read it to understand this, but it exists if you want to).

Ship: BAU!reader x Spencer Reid

Summary: You’d call yourself a pretty educated individual, and most people wouldn’t argue with that, given that you’re a member of the BAU at Quantico. There’s just something about your best friend Spencer Reid that gets you all tongue tied.

Warnings: Mentions of cases and case-typical violence, mentions of alcohol, Spencer and Reader being idiots again.

Word count: 3k

A/N: The feedback (in asks and the tag reblogs) for Personal Google was so lovely and encouraging and I am very grateful for it! I only made this account a few days ago and I’m already so glad I did :) I hope this is a satisfactory second part and, requests are open!

(This is the Reid I’m imagining here)

“What is up with you and Reid?” Emily’s volume is unmoderated at the best of times but right now it’s like she’s trying to alert the entirety of Virginia to your dating woes.

Dating woes might be a stretch, actually. Somehow, just her implication that something is happening between you and Spencer (even though it isn’t, unless you count two exhausted idiots falling asleep on each other and being too bashful to ever mention it again), is enough to get you feeling uncharacteristically shy.

“Nothing,” you shrug, “Well. I don’t know, honestly, nothing I guess? We haven’t spoken about that night.”

Emily’s eyes rake over you, and you can tell she’s waiting for you to continue.

“There’s nothing!” you object, “We just, it was accidental, we fell asleep because we were watching a documentary and we were tired and neither of us fell asleep on purpose.”

She laughs, dry and amused, “At this rate, you’ll be lucky to have sorted things out before you’re 50.”

You scowl, but it’s only because you know she’s right.

***

You don’t have much time to think about your situation with Spencer for a few weeks, considering the rate at which the cases come rolling in. This newest one arrives within about two days of the last one you’d just wrapped up. It’s actually kind of rude, you’ve decided, that the serial killers of America have decided to deny you two weekends in a row.

You’re briefed on the case quickly: four women have gone missing over the past 7 months from a small town in Ohio. There’s no distinct pattern that can be discerned among the victims, the oldest is 60 and white, the youngest is 23 and Asian-American. However, the first three have been found dead in the past two weeks, all within a mile of each other and all killed with the same MO: ligature strangulation.

“So we have no idea how he’s choosing them,” you say.

“No,” Hotch replies, with a sigh.

Meaning that this is probably going to take a while. Spencer senses the way you tense up a little as you absorb that fact. So he goes out of his way to sit next to you on the plane. Once the discussion about the case is done, he nudges you gently, “Did you bring a book?”

You shake your head, “I finished the one in my go-bag. Didn’t have a chance to replace it.”

“Would you like to read this with me?”

You place your hand on his wrist, gently turning it so you can see the cover, “Spencer this is written in Greek.”

“I can translate,” he says.

You move closer to him then, your head resting just against his plane seat and your chin almost jutting against his shoulder.

“Is this okay?”

He nods. The remaining 45 minutes of the flight are spent with him reading to you softly, adding in his own thoughts as he translates and sometimes going off on little tangents. By the time you land you’ve entirely forgotten about your ire with the case. You’re focused only on the characters he introduces you to, who are clearly in love even if they’re too stupid to see it, and the way his nose crinkles a little when he reaches a word with no direct English translation.

Whhat you don’t realise, is that you end up folding into him: head pressed against his chest. Somehow, neither of you notice how you naturally gravitate towards each other. Some pair of profilers.

Hotch sends you in different cars to the precinct, and you’re soon reminded of your frustration as you’re caught up in the hub-a-bub of the case. It’s not until you’re leaving the station, after a long and relatively fruitless briefing with the medical examiners and local PD, that you even have time to acknowledge Spencer properly again.

And even then, it’s only when Hotch says.

"You'll be sharing a room with Reid, alright?"

He’s only really asking as a formality. Nobody questions Hotch’s assignments for them. So why, then, do you feel yourself flush a little.

Why then, do you feel so embarassed replying, “Alright.”

***

There was nothing much to be nervous about with sharing a room, as it so happened. The past day and a half had been a whirlwind since the unsub had snatched a fifth victim. You’d been sleeping in shifts, making sure that some of you were awake at all times to keep working.

You were working on the geographical profile with Spencer, and had taken to driving around to look for landmarks at night, when there was nothing much else to do. There were maps but sometimes it helped just to get things embedded in your brain. And now, at 4am, you’re bursting into the conference room occupied by Spencer and Rossi, because you might just have got something.

"I have an idea,” you say, and before anybody can even respond you’re scribbling hurriedly on the whiteboard.

“Slow down kiddo,” Rossi laughs.

“Sorry I’m just,” you cut yourself off, slightly flustered and tapping your foot with frustration as you try to put the last pieces of it together, “Diana Matthews.”

“Yeah?” Spencer responds.

“She was the one who lived on Lakefield right?” Rossi asks.

Annoyingly, you can’t remember off rote. Spencer sees the pinch of frustration in your brow. He senses that you’re heading for the case file.

So, he answers, “Yeah 38 Lakefield Drive.”

Smiling gratefully at him, you breathe a sigh of relief, “There’s three different stores in the area for this local electronic repair company, Gladston Digital, in this area. Two of them aren’t accounted for on the maps because these are from last year, and one of the ones on Google is pinned to the wrong street, there are two Minister Avenues and one’s on the complete opposite side of town.”

Denoting the map with annotations as you go, you continue, “All of the victims had residences within a mile of one of the three stores. And we interviewed the area manager, Paul something, he manages all three stores. He came to speak to me and Hotch while we were scoping the area.”

“Inserting himself into the investigation,” Rossi notes, “Fits the profile. A stalker like that would want to remain an illusion of control.”

“I just need to get Garcia on the phone to see if it checks out.”

Spencer just watches, slightly in awe, as you make the phone call to Garcia. She manages to cross-reference bank statements and emails, showing that all five of the victims had taken something of theirs in for repair sometime in the year before their disappearance. And he feels something in his gut. Pride? Maybe. That’s certainly a part of it.

But there’s something else in there too. Your eyes meet his, with a flicker of recognition. He realises what it is then: marvel. Your brain works so fast, and that’s not novel to him, he knows you’re intelligent but there’s just something about how fast you manage to put it all together. You conjure something out of nothing, a link that he’d missed. And he’s reminded, again, that he has to try and keep up with you sometimes. He wonders if you know that.

Probably not, he thinks. You’re rambling down the phone and gesturing with your hands, in a way you may or may not have picked up from him, and all he can think is how you look so in your element. And beautiful.

He’s a little embarassed about how normal it feels for that last observation to pop into his head.

***

“To _____!” Prentiss cheers.

8pm has rolled around. Since your revelation 16 hours earlier, you managed to confirm your thinking, apprehend Paul Bader, and save the fifth victim. All in all, a pretty good days work. It’s not just down to you, but everyone’s singing your praises so loudly it’s making you a little embarassed.

Even Hotch sets a drink down in front of you, squeezing your shoulder, “Really good work today ____.”

Fair to say you’ve probably peaked there.

Spencer is sat to your left, sipping at a Mai Tai that you know is going to have him giggly in about an hours time.

“I wasn’t trying to keep you out before,” you tell him, “I was going to come and wake you up when I got back but you were in the conference room.”

He smiles, “I know. It was my shift to sleep.”

“Bet you’re paying for that now.”

“A little,” he chuckles, “It’s worth it.”

"I just didn’t want you to think I was hanging you out to dry. You know, to make myself look good,” you decide to press further: mostly just because the team has sung your praises and that kind of attention makes you shirk at the best of times. Let alone when you’re sat with the guy responsible for creating half the damn profile.

His eyebrows furrow. You worry for a minute about what he’s going to say, but then, “I would never think that about you. We’re a team.”

He squeezes your hand. Maybe that’s your favourite thing about Spencer, really. More than the fact he remembers to get your caffeine just how you like it, more than how gentle he is with just about everybody he encounters, more than his relentless enthusiasm for your questions about whatever pops into your mind. No, it’s his modesty. The way he doesn’t even think for a moment to be prideful or arrogant about his intelligence. He genuinely roots for you in every moment, you think.

“Are you okay?” he asks, “You seem a little..quiet.”

It wasn’t until he mentioned it that you realise you’d let your thoughts run away with you, “No. I’m good. Just thinking about how good of a teacher you are.”

“You think so?”

“Of course I think so. You’ve taught me. I didn’t know the first thing about geographical profiling when I got here two years ago. I could barely read a map,” you laugh, keeping your tone sincere, “You’re a really good teacher Spence. I feel like I learn so much from just being around you.”

“I often don’t give you much choice.”

You smile, “I wouldn’t want you to. Really. I’m always interested in everything you have to say. I think you know that. But I wanted to tell you anyway. So you’re sure.”

He’s incredibly grateful you get pulled into a conversation by Morgan, giving him a moment to process.

A lifetime of being insecure. Of feeling like nobody was interested in what he had to say but not being able to really control whether he said it anyway. All this time being insecure in himself, and you liked it. Complimented him on it, even. Considered him a teacher. He doesn’t think he could articulate, in any of the languages he speaks, the sense of peace that brings him.

-----

The Mai Tai’s do make him sleepy. Buzzed, but sleepy. After being bought rounds by Hotch, Morgan, and Spencer, you’re feeling exactly the same. It’s only 10:30pm by the time you decide to make your departure for the night. This is much to the chagrin of Emily, who lolls against Rossi’s side demanding that you stay.

“Some of us have been up since 4 this morning, breaking their backs to keep this country safe,” You tease, putting on a melodramatic air just for affect, “Besides, you’re going to regret this when you have to be up and back on the jet in the morning.”

“You will, especially since you still owe me that report,” Hotch teases, with a smile.

Emily rolls her eyes, “You two are no fun.”

She’s joking, goading you, but unfortunately for her you have a sleepy Spencer nuzzling against you which is a far more pressing matter to deal with.

“Come on Spence, let’s get you to bed,” You say, gently wiggling out from under him and offering him your hand.

He pouts at the momentary loss of contact. It’s subtle. You catch it though. He links his fingers through your own, holding your hand properly, and you try not to read into it too much. He’s tipsy. He’s tired.

Ignoring the deliberately obvious eyebrow-wiggling from Morgan, you make for the lift.

“You didn’t have to come to bed just for me,” Spencer says, “I feel bad for taking you away from the others. I’m not that drunk, I could get myself to bed.”

You shake your head, “I wanted to go to bed with you.”

His eyes snap to you, a grin playing on his lips.

“I mean, I wanted to go to bed. And we’re sharing a room. So I’m going to bed with you. As in we’re going to the place where bed is, together.”

He’s just enough tipsy to be confident enough to jest, “Sure.”

You roll your eyes, “You sound like Morgan.”

“What did Morgan say?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know exactly what Morgan always says whenever anybody goes off together.”

“That they’re having sex,” He giggles, tipsiness shining through again.

“Yes, Spence, that they’re having sex.”

“But we’re not.”

The elevator dings as you arrive at your floor, saving your brain from delving into the implications of what he’s just said. And whether that was a disappointed or netural tone.

He hasn’t let go of your hand. He walks to the door with you, still keeping your hand in his. It’s hard not to let yourself read into it now. How holding hands with him could be such a casual thing. Hard not to imagine walking through bookshops with him, one hand in yours and the other picking books off the shelf he thought you’d like. The domesticity of it sickens you.

Then he lets go to cross to the bed.

“Aren’t you gonna put your pyjama’s on?” You ask.

“I wasn’t gonna sleep yet,” he says, “I was gonna...”

He looks bashful, suddenly, self-consciously licking his lower lip, “I was gonna ask if maybe you wanted to watch something with me. You can pick. I always pick.”

“This an excuse to get me in bed with you again, Spence?” You tease, just past tipsy enough not to care that this is the first time you’ve even acknowledged that night.

"Yeah, the Pearl Harbour ruse doesn’t work twice,” he jokes.

You wish you could find the courage to tease him more. Unfortunately, the liquid courage seems to have run out, and the topic somehow feels too delicate to touch.. Instead, you change quickly into your pyjama’s. Together, you pick something to watch, settling down. You’re suddenly thankful for the single bed, the necessity to be cozied up against him as you watch. To feel his chest, every beat of his heart. You swear it’s beating fast. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking.

***

Just like last time, you wake up huddled against Spencer. Unlike last time, there’s no Emily banging the door down to drag you to the police station. No, it’s quiet.

You can’t see what time it is because there’s a Spencer between you and the clock. Your phone is in your back pocket but it’s hard to find any motivation whatsoever to move when you’re like this: face pressed into his chest, his head resting atop of yours so a single curl of his hair tickles your nose, his hand on your hip holding you against him.

His eyelashes flutter, “Are you awake?”

“Yeah. I just woke up.”

He smiles, “Me too.”

“Looks like we did it again.”

“Looks like we did,” his voice is quiet.

“Do you want me to move? If I’m...I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

His free hand comes up to your chin, tipping it so you’re looking him directly in the eyes. His pupils are dilated. In the dim light it’s hard to place the look on his face exactly. But it’s soft.

"C-Can I kiss you?” the question spills quickly from his lips, like he’s afraid he’ll change his mind if he doesn’t get it out fast, “I just. I don’t know if that’s what you want too, I’ve just really-”

"Kiss me, Spence. Please kiss me.”

The smile on his face would have made you fall in love with him, if you weren’t already. And then he kisses you. Barely. Your lips are just grazing against one anothers. You tilt yourself upwards, towards him, giving him a better angle. Then he really kisses you, capturing your lips in his. It’s sweet, it’s soft, it’s...it’s everything. It’s everything, how his hands tangle themselves tentatively in your hair, how he kisses you so deeply, drinking you in.

His hand cups your cheek, then he’s pulling back, just a tiny bit, to mumble against your lips, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

The only appropriate way you can think to verbalise your agreement, is closing the gap between your lips again. There’s an urgency to it this time. Your lips move quickly, passionately. He swipes his tongue across your lower lip and you let him in, your tongues delicately dancing together. He’s good. He’s good and you don’t even notice the morning breath or faint taste of rum, it’s just Spencer.

When you finally come apart, you’re out of breath.

“I didn’t think you’d ever do that,” you say, “I was worried I was reading this whole thing wrong.”

He frowns then, that little nose crinkle appearing again, “I thought I was too obvious.”

“So did I. Maybe it’s best if we don’t tell Hotch how bad we are at profiling each other. He might rethink his decision to take us on.”

He laughs, “Not being able to profile when somebody’s in love with you might be a cause for concern. There are several obvious phyical signs of love, including dilation of pupils when looking at the object of your affection, heart rate synchronisation.”

“How am I supposed to know if our heart rates have synchronised?”

He smiles. Pressing a finger to your lips, he dips his head in the small chasm between your two chests. In the silence, in the early morning quiet, in the absence of all distraction you can hear it. The steady thrum of your hearts, pounding away at identical paces. The sound that told you that some part of you had always known.

--------------

Tagslist: @takeyourleap-of-faith @sassiest-politician (let me know if you’d like to be added/removed from this list)

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #imagine spencer reid #reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #imagine criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x you #bau!reader

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thevalleyisjolly · 3 years

Note

Hi there! If you feel up to it, would you be willing to expand a bit more on the idea of white creators creating poc characters who are ‘internally white’, especially in a post-racialized or racism-free setting & how to avoid it? It’s something I’m very concerned about but I haven’t encountered a lot of info about it outside of stories set in real world settings. Thanks & have a good day!

Hey, thanks for asking, anon! It’s a pretty nuanced topic, and different people will have different takes on it. I’ll share my thoughts on it, but do keep in mind that other people of colour may have different thoughts on the matter, and this is by no means definitive! These are things I’ve observed through research, trial and error, my own experiences, or just learning from other writers.

The first thing I guess I want to clarify is that I personally am not opposed to a society without racism in fiction. It’s exhausting and frankly boring when the only stories that characters of colour get are about racism! So it’s a relief sometimes to just get to see characters of colour exist in a story without dealing with racism. That being said, I feel like a lot of the time when creators establish their settings as “post-racial,” they avoid racism but they also avoid race altogether. Not aesthetically -they may have a few or even many characters with dark skin- but the way the characters act and talk and relate to the world are “race-less” (which tends to end up as default white American/British or whatever place the creator comes from). Which I have complicated thoughts on, but the most obvious thing that springs to mind is how such an approach implies (deliberately or not) that racism is all there is to the way POC navigate the world. It’s definitely a significant factor, particularly for POC in Western countries, but it’s not the only thing! There’s so much more to our experiences than just racial discrimination, and it’s a shame that a lot of “post-racial” or “racism-free” settings seem to overlook that in their eagerness to not have racism (or race) in their stories.

A quick go-to question I ask when I look at characters of colour written/played by white creators is: if this was a story or transcript I was reading, with no art or actors or what have you, would I be able to tell that this character is a character of colour? How does the creator signal to the audience that this is a character of colour? A lot of the time, this signal stops after the physical description - “X has dark skin” and then that’s all! (We will not discuss the issue of racial stereotypes in depth, but it should be clear that those are absolutely the wrong way to indicate a character of colour).

This expands to a wider issue of using dark skin as a be-all-end-all indication of diversity, which is what I mean by “aesthetic” characters of colour (I used the term “internally white” originally but upon further reflection, it has some very loaded implications, many of which I’m personally familiar with, so I apologize for the usage). Yes, the character may not “look” white, but how do they interact with the world? Where do they come from? What is their background, their family? A note: this can be challenging with diaspora stories in the real world and people being disconnected (forcibly or otherwise) from their heritage (in which case, those are definitely stories that outsiders should not tell). So let’s look at fantasy. Even the most original writer in the world bases their world building off existing things in the real world. So what cultures are you basing your races off of? If you have a dark skinned character in your fantasy story, what are the real world inspirations and equivalents that you drew from, and how do you acknowledge that in a respectful, non-stereotyped way?

(Gonna quickly digress here and say that there are already so many stories about characters of colour disconnected from their heritage because ‘They didn’t grow up around other people from that culture’ or ‘They moved somewhere else and grew up in that dominant culture’ or ‘It just wasn’t important to them growing up’ and so on. These are valid stories, and important to many people! But when told by (usually) white creators, they’re also used, intentionally or not, as a sort of cop-out to avoid having to research or think about the character’s ethnicity and how that influences who they are. So another point of advice: avoid always situating characters outside of their heritage. Once or twice explored with enough nuance and it can be an interesting narrative, all the time and it starts being a problem)

Another thing I want to clarify at this point is that it’s a contentious issue about whether creators should tell stories that aren’t theirs, and different people will have different opinions. For me personally, I definitely don’t think it’s inherently bad for creators to have diverse characters in their work, and no creator can live every experience there is. That being said, there are caveats for how such characters are handled. For me personally, I follow a few rules of thumb which are:

Is this story one that is appropriate for this creator to tell? Some experiences are unique and lived with a meaningful or complex history and context behind them and the people to whom those experiences belong do not want outsiders to tell those stories.

To what extent is the creator telling this story? Is it something mentioned as part of the narrative but not significantly explored or developed upon? Does it form a core part of the story or character? There are some stories that translate across cultures and it’s (tentatively) ok to explore more in depth, like immigration or intergenerational differences. There are some stories that don’t, and shouldn’t be explored in detail (or even at all) by people outside those cultures.

How is the creator approaching this story and the people who live it? To what extent have they done their research? What discussions have they had with sensitivity consultants/readers? What kind of respect are they bringing to their work? Do they default to stereotypes and folk knowledge when they reach the limits of their research? How do they respond to feedback or criticism when audiences point things that they will inevitably get wrong?

Going back to the “race-less” point, I think that creators need to be careful that they’re (respectfully) portraying characters of colour as obvious persons of colour. With a very definite ‘no’ on stereotyping, of course, so that’s where the research comes in (which should comprise of more than a ten minute Google search). If your setting is in the real world, what is the background your character comes from and how might that influence the way they act or talk or see the world? If your setting is in a fantasy world, same question! Obviously, avoid depicting things which are closed/exclusive to that culture (such as religious beliefs, practices, etc) and again, avoid stereotyping (which I cannot stress enough), but think about how characters might live their lives and experience the world differently based on the culture or the background they come from.

As an example of a POC character written/played well by a white person, I personally like Jackson Wei and Cindy Wong from Dimension 20’s The Unsleeping City, an urban fantasy D&D campaign. Jackson and Cindy are NPCs played by the DM, Brennan Lee Mulligan, who did a good job acknowledging their ethnicity without resorting to stereotypes and while giving them their own unique characters and personalities. The first time he acted as Cindy, I leapt up from my chair because she was exactly like so many old Chinese aunties and grandmothers I’ve met. The way Jackson and Cindy speak and act and think is very Chinese (without being stereotyped), but at the same time, there’s more to their characters than being Chinese, they have unique and important roles in the story that have nothing to do with their ethnicity. So it’s obvious that they’re people of colour, that they’re Chinese, but at the same time, the DM isn’t overstepping and trying to tell stories that aren’t his to tell. All while not having the characters face any racism, as so many “post-racialized” settings aim for, because there are quite enough stories about that!

There a couple factors that contribute to the positive example I gave above. The DM is particularly conscientious about representation and doing his research (not to say that he never messes up, but he puts in a lot more effort than the average creator), and the show also works with a lot of sensitivity consultants. Which takes me to the next point - the best way to portray characters of colour in your story is to interact with people from that community. Make some new friends, reach out to people! Consume media by creators of colour! In my experience so far, the most authentic Chinese characters have almost universally been created/written/played by Chinese creators. Read books, listen to podcasts, watch shows created by people of colour. Apart from supporting marginalized creators, you also start to pick up how people from that culture or heritage see themselves and the world, what kind of stories they have to tell, and just as importantly, what kind of stories they want being told or shared. In other words, the best way to portray an authentic character of colour that is more than just the colour of their skin is to learn from actual people of colour (without, of course, treating them just as a resource and, of course, with proper credit and acknowledgement).

Most importantly, this isn’t easy, and you will absolutely make mistakes. I think the most important thing to keep in mind is that you will mess up. No matter how well researched you are, how much respect you have for other cultures, how earnestly you want to do this right, you will at some point do something that makes your POC audience uncomfortable or even offends them. Then, your responsibility comes with your response. Yes, you’ve done something wrong. How do you respond to the people who are hurt or disappointed? Do you ignore them, or double down on your words, or try to defend yourself? Just as importantly, what are you planning to do about it in the future? If you have a second chance, what are you going to do differently? You will make mistakes at some point. So what are you going to do about them? That, I think, is an even more important question than “How can I do this right?” You may or may not portray something accurately, but when you get something wrong, how are you going to respond?

Essentially, it all comes down to your responsibility as a creator. As a creator, you have a responsibility to do your due diligence in research, to remain respectful to your work and to your audience, and to be careful and conscientious about how you choose to create things. It’s not about getting things absolutely perfect or being the most socially conscious creator out there, it’s about recognizing your responsibilities as a creator with a platform, no matter how big or small, and taking responsibility for your work.

In summary:

Research, research, research

Avoid the obvious no-no’s (stereotypes, tokenization, fetishization, straight up stealing from other cultures, etc) and think critically about what creative choices you’re making and why

Do what you’re doing now, and reach out to people (who have put themselves out there as a resource). There are tons of resources out there by people of colour, reach out when you’re not sure about something or would like some advice!

Responsibility, responsibility, responsibility

Thank you for reaching out! Good luck with your work!

#the valley is posting #thanks anon!#writing advice #hope this helps! if another POC has something to add - please go ahead!

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hangovercurse · 3 years

Text

Nothing

Part i of the Without You series: When Colson and Megan break up, the boys count on Y/N to piece Colson back together, which only leads to disaster.

Colson x Reader

Warnings: Colson being kind of a dick, cursing, a little bit of aggression/ violence. This one’s definitely angsty.

A/N: This was supposed to be just a one part fic. Then that turned into 2 parts. And then 3. And then all of a sudden I had written 5 parts and over 10,000 words. Enjoy 😊 (also this is v unedited so if you see a mistake... mind ya business)

Word Count: 2084

| ii | iii | iv | v | vi |

masterlist

When you got the text from Rook, you knew it was probably gonna be bad.

Megan just left him, for good. Not gonna be pretty the next few days so maybe don’t come by anytime soon.

Your heart broke for your best friend. Colson had been really in love with Megan. And as much as you hated seeing them together for your own personal reasons, you could tell he was really happy.

Ok. Let me know if you guys need me. If it gets bad I can take Casie for a few days. Take care of him for me pls.

You and Colson had been friends for years now. You knew almost everything about each other, you told him everything. He let you crash at his place after your ex kicked you out, and you had spent many hours curled up with him, watching stupid movies to distract him from his most recent breakup or mental breakdown.

But this was different. Colson told you he wanted to marry her at some point, and you knew he wasn’t lying. And you couldn’t blame him. As much as you hated no longer being the only women (other than Casie) in his life, you couldn’t dislike Megan. She was just one of those people who everyone loved.

The thought of texting Colson crossed your mind, but you weren’t sure if it would hurt or help. From the sound of it, he was a wreck.

So, naturally, you texted Pete.

Have you talked to Cols yet?

With Colson came Pete, or came you, you weren’t really sure. Somewhere along the way you and Pete had become close friends. He was like the older brother you’d never asked for, and he would probably say something similar about you.

You couldn’t really explain it, Pete could read you like a book. And because of that, he knew everything. He was the only one to catch on to the way you sometimes looked at Colson for too long, or got irritated when he’d bring a new girl around.

I’m heading over there right now. You should talk to him.

You rolled your eyes.

Not sure that’s the best idea. You guys are better at handling... all that. Once he gets a little less angry then I’ll take him.

Pete texted you back a few minutes later.

Thanks for the support, kid. I’ll keep you updated. Just pulled in.

Good luck, Petey.

You tossed your phone on your bed, a sigh leaving your lips. You decided worrying was a problem for another day.

No more than 12 hours later you were getting a phone call from Rook.

“Dude it’s like 4 in the morning, why are you calling me.”

“Y/N, we’ve tried everything. He’s locked up in his room and every time one of us tries to talk to him he blows up. Literally he almost punched Slim a few hours ago.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, groaning at the predicament. “So now you want me to come over?” You asked, “What do you think I’m gonna be able to do?”

“Well he’s not gonna try and hit you for one. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but he’s significantly nicer to you than to anyone else.”

“What do I even say to him? “Sorry that the love of your life broke up with you but at least we can smoke pot and watch Spongebob?” I mean come on, man. I’m not good at this.”

“Please.” He pleaded, “We’re all out of options and I can’t stand to see him get any worse than he is.”

You moved off your bed and towards your dresser. “Fine, I’ll be there in 15.”

You threw on the first pair of sweatpants you could find and slipped on shoes, grabbing your key and heading out the door.

True to your word, you pulled up to the house 15 minutes later, parking on the side of the street and heading straight into the house. When the guys saw you, they visibly brightened up.

“You guys are such fucking wimps.” You rolled your eyes as you made your way towards the stairs.

Baze chuckled, “We love you Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes and continued on your way, stopping by Casie’s room to see if she was asleep. To your surprise, she wasn’t.

“Hey sweet girl,” you whispered as you entered her room, “why are you still up?”

She smiled a little when she saw you. “Couldn’t sleep. I’m really worried about Dad.”

You leaned on her doorframe, sending her a sad smile. “I am too. But he’ll be okay. Your dad’s pretty tough.”

“I know,” she sighed, “but he really liked Megan.”

“Did you?” You ask, trying to gauge her emotions.

“I mean, I guess so. She was nice to me. Most of his girlfriends aren’t that nice to me.”

“That’s a pretty shitty way to measure if you like someone or not.” She giggles at that. “Don’t tell your dad I said that word in front of you.”

“Ok. She was nice. And she made him happy so, yeah, I guess I liked her. Not as much as I like you but...” Casie’s voice got higher as she dragged out the last word and you just rolled your eyes with a chuckle.

Casie had this fantasy of you and Colson getting married one day, but you always told her it would never happen.

“Ok kiddo, whatever you say.” You teased her, “try and get some sleep, okay?”

She nodded with a smile. “Are you gonna go talk to Dad?”

“Yeah. I’ll talk to you later, okay? If you need to come over and talk or stay the night or anything just call me, okay?”

“Okay. Love you.” She said quietly.

“Love you too, Case.”

You shut the door to her room, moving down the hallway to Colson’s door. You took a deep breath, trying to mentally prepare for what was about to happen, and knocked.

“I told you guys to go the fuck away.” A muffled yet angry voice said from the opposite side of the door.

“It’s me, Cols. Y/N.” You said, hoping he could hear you.

When you got no response you asked, “Can I come in?”

A few more seconds of silence followed, and then the lock clicked and the door opened. You stood face-to-face with your best friend. His hair was a mess, falling in his face. The bags under his eyes were darker than ever, and the frown he wore made him look even more pathetic. You felt your heart breaking.

As you met his eyes, you gave him a sad smile. “Hey Cols.”

Instead of responding, he wrapped his arms around you, leaning down and resting his head on your shoulder. You reached up and ran your fingers through his hair.

He started walking backwards, pulling you with him as he continued to hug you. One of his hands pushed the door shut and he sat on his bed, finally letting go of you.

You looked down at him, grabbing his hand and holding it in your own. It was something you had done before, you two were very touchy people and so half of your friendship was just you two cuddling or play fighting or holding hands.

“So we can do one of three things,” you started, “We can talk about it, we can cuddle and watch something stupid and pretend nothing’s wrong, or we can get high and do something stupid.”

For the first time in what you would imagine to be all night, Colson smiled. it was a very small smile, but you took it.

He looked up at you through his eyelashes. “And by stupid you mean...”

You rolled your eyes, “I mean we can go set off bottle rockets in the backyard or try to jump off your roof and into the pool.”

“Oh damn. I was hoping you were gonna say you would suck my dick.”

Your eyes widened at his bluntness and the implication. You shoved his shoulder, “Colson! That’s gross!” You giggled, but his expression was unwaveringly serious.

“I’m being serious.” He deadpanned and you furrowed your eyebrows.

“Colson what the fuck?” Your mind was spinning trying to figure out if he was joking.

You got your answer when he stood up, grabbing your waist and leaning over you. “I thought you’d want to...”

You took in a breath at the sudden proximity, trying to back away from him but his grip remaining firmly on your waist. “Colson, stop. Please. This isn’t funny.”

You could smell the alcohol on his breath and you had to keep reminding yourself of that fact. He’s drunk, and sad, and doesn’t know what he’s saying.

“I thought you’d want to, cause it’ll make me happy. And you’ll do anything to make me happy.” One of his hands reached up and grabbed your jaw, making sure you couldn’t look away.

“Colson you’re being a fucking weirdo, let me go.” You raised your voice. Your heart was racing at this point and the thoughts flowing around your head were not pretty.

You were always anxious for the day he’d figure you out. When he’d finally realize how you felt for him. But this was worse than anything you’d thought of.

“You’ll do anything to make me happy because you love me, right?”

You felt tears stinging in your eyes, wanting nothing more but to look away from his sinister expression. The way he was looking at you made it very clear that he was enjoying your discomfort, your embarrassment.

“Colso-”

He walked forwards, pushing you gently against the wall. His arms went to either side of you, his face inches from yours. You tried to look away, but his hand on your jaw forced you to face him.

Any other time you would have loved for Colson to pin you against his wall, but this was wrong.

“Just say it. Say you’re in love with me, and I’ll drop it.”

“Colson, what the fuck are you on right now?” You tried to steer the topic away from you, but he wouldn’t have it.

“Say it.”

You reached up to try and push his chest away from you, but he was much taller and stronger than you, so you did nothing.

“Just tell me!” He yelled at your silence. A tear slipped down your cheek as you trembled under him. His face was red and his eyes were watering.

“Why are you doing this?” You whispered. This all felt like a bad dream, like a nightmare you couldn’t wake up from.

“Because I need to know if she was right.” His voice got a little quieter, but he still wouldn’t move away from you. “I need to know if the reason the love of my fucking life just left me is true.”

You were shaking, your breaths getting shorter. “What are you talking about.” Your words were choked. The grip on your jaw started to get a little too tight.

“I defended you!” He yelled, tears falling from his face. “She told me that you were in love with me and I defended you.”

“Colson you’re hurting me.” You whined, trying to wriggle your way out of his grasp. He ignored your statement and continued talking, but his grip loosened slightly.

“And then she told me that she thinks I’m in love with you.” His voice was getting darker. “And that’s why she left. So I want to make it very clear to you.” He paused, leaning closer to your ear. “I will never love you. Ever. Not now, not in a million lifetimes. You mean nothing to me.”

Your vision was blurry from your tears, so you blindly reached out to push him away from you. His body seemed to have given up, as he moved backwards out of your way, stumbling slightly. Through your tears you could make out a smug smile on the man before you ran out of the room, slamming the door behind you.

You ran down the stairs, the guys waiting for you to give them good news, but their hope turned to concern once they saw you. You walked straight past them towards the door, not trusting yourself to say anything without breaking completely.

As you reached for the door handle you heard a faint yell from upstairs, followed by loud banging, and then silence. You sniffled, turning the handle and leaving the house, much to the protest of your friends.

#mgk #mgk imagine #mgk angst #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker imagine #colson baker angst #est #xx

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shunkani · 4 years

Text

Chapter 132 Levi/Hange Analysis

Summary: An attempt to explain the sentence in chapter 132

Levi: I see your one sided love with Titans still goes unrequited, four-eyes.

Hange: ...We’ll be getting along soon enough.　（…すぐに仲良くなるさ）

Disclaimer: this is just interpretation and not meant to be taken as official proof of romance between Levi and Hange in Attack on Titan. This is theory and nothing else. I’ve read multiple tweets and essays to compile my own thoughts.

I personally do not have any qualms with other ships, and this essay doesn’t discredit other Hange or Levi CP’s. Also, sorry but this essay has no pictures.

Lesson_____

A quick Japanese lesson (and language comprehension); I will try to make it painless. I make no assumption on the reader’s Japanese level/English grammar understanding and will be talking about it as is.

When は is combined with another particle, it puts emphasis in a way such as English has intonation. Since Japanese does not stress tone (like how one says the words sarcastically/meaningfully/sadly/cheekily) it uses particles to do this job.

So, when Levi says, “相変わらず巨人とは片思いのままだったなクソメガネ“

It means literally, “As always, still an unrequited love with Titans, four-eyes.”

Naturally, “Your love for Titans is one-sided, as usual, four-eyes.”

In Japanese, using には or とは creates a third, invisible option that is outside of the realm of the sentence.

When you use に or と or even は by itself, it creates a one dimensional statement. When used with other particles combined with は it creates another, outside dimension to the sentence. A third suggestion or comparison. は can be used as a comparative or stress particle as well as a topic marker.

quick example.

I didn’t go to the library with him. ->彼と図書館に行かなかった.（ Forward statement. It is as it is. ）

I didn’t go to the library with him. ->彼とは図書館に行かなかった（Implying I went there with someone else, but not him. ）

Just like you’d expect, English speakers understand the implications of stressing “him.” Just as Japanese speakers understand the implications of とは etc. If we stressed library(図書館には）instead of “boy” (彼とは）then it’s implication is that we didn’t go to the library with him, but maybe somewhere else. I hope this is clear.

____

Okay, on with the analyses. Just a note again, but I’ve naturalized any Japanese so that it’s not literal, but the meaning is the same so it’s easier to comprehend for native English speakers. I’ve changed “I” to “we” considering I formatted to fit essays.

From ストリキーネさん’s essay

Like others have said, Levi’s words feel like his true confession. Whether it’s romantic or not, it’s up in the air, but while making small talk and commenting about his long time comrade in arms, it seems like this comment is loaded with unlabeled feelings, like “You gross me out, but I feel something special for you and I get you.”

It feels natural to say “You still have unrequited love for Titans.” right after the banter of Hange and Pieck’s exchange. {note: 巨人に片思いのままだな is using に here, not とは, so it feels natural to say に）

So why did he use “とは” and not ”に”？

If there’s official announcement that say’s there’s no meaning to it, or that it’ll be corrected in the official volume, then this sentence will be meaningless. But if it’s intentional or even unconscious decision, we get the impression that he is recalling a third person (”me” ie Levi) among Hange and the Titans.

Moreover, hearing “four eyes” was unexpected and we can only imagine it was surprising for Hange too. Since we might have never expected that we’d hear “four eyes” in the original manga again, it’s perplexing, but feels filled with something like nostalgia.

With Hange taking over as commander and the world rapidly changing, we get the feeling that there’s a distance between them, at least from what is shown to us from the story.

Because of this short exchange about Titans, all at once we are brought back to “An eccentric, Titan-loving section commander,” and “Captain who’s fond of four-eyes,” and it’s moving.

There’s a little pause (note: talking about the “...” before Hange starts talking) at the end of Levi’s lines and the start of Hange’s dialogue. One wonders if it couldn’t be a mix between surprise and relief on Hange’s end.

Also, as many others have said, Levi is answering Hange’s “I’d prefer if we live here together,” from the forest, to the best that he can. There was no reason to look back at that scene in relation to this because Levi seemed to have brushed off Hange’s shocking statement, but since everyone was referencing that scene, a second re-examination was in order. (Note, the author actually said something a little more personal, so I condensed it to match a more essay-like statement)

Levi could have been surprised.

Someone who he’s known for a long time, and supported each other, and can admit that (Hange) can be troublesome sometimes, but also they hit it off well, yet each of their own responsibilities have become heavier and the world is in this state... in a situation like this, when suddenly alone together in a quiet forest, he might think Hange has stopped thinking if seriously suggesting to run away and saying things like “let’s live together.”

Under circumstances like this, if it were us, we’d likely want to do it, but remember we have responsibilities, maybe we don’t know what the other person feels, perhaps we’d rather we never heard it, so we pretend not to. In Levi’s case, perhaps pretend to sleep (pretending to not be able to hear it) or when he wakes up, change the subject completely.

It’s unlikely that Levi could give an answer on the spot, and would want time to figure it out.

(There’s more to the essay but it’s thoughts on relationships between people and some other things that don’t apply to the quote)

ーーーーー

Notes concluded from various twitter surfing:

Many JP fans think Levi’s statement alluded to the forest scene. It’s like his clumsy answer to Hange’s proposal, since he didn’t give a direct answer. Actually the essay above felt his answer was cold and ignored Hange. But Hange doesn’t seem displeased about it.

As many have said, Hange and Levi are definitely “adults” in this world. They both understand it’s not feasible to do the things they want to do, because their duties supersede that. Hange carries the immense duty of commander, and both hold the responsibility to stop Eren or fight for humanity as a whole.

It’s rather evident to me, even as an ordinary reader, that Levi did not want Hange to go. In fact, Hange says, 行かせて, “let me go.” and anticipated Levi would try to stop Hange. Mind you, it’s not “release me” but “I have to do this, so don’t stop me.” It took him three panels, focused on his dead-like eyes to finally say “Dedicate your heart,” something he’s apparently never said before. To me, “Dedicate your heart” is a self-sacrificing quote when applied to the Survey Corps. Pretty much “go in bravely, and don’t expect to come back.” Levi is a “Live and come back’ type. The strange thing is that Levi puts his hand on Hange and says it.. in Hange’s place..? It’s a salute before battle, but here it feels like a gentle sentence. Why it was delivered that way? I hope that Isayama will answer these questions in future interviews.

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿

Another thing, Levi says みててくれ to Hange, a now deceased person. Levi has never asked anything from the dead. He’s mentioned fulfilling his promise to Erwin about killing Zeke, but some have found it strange for Levi to ask Hange to “Watch me (kill Zeke.”) (edit: the point is that Levi asked Hange to keep watching him, so it seems that his promises and goals may have changed)

One user said something pretty sad. “For Levi, I think Hange is treated as a MIA. Even if there’s no chance of survival, if Levi looks at Hange’s death, Hange has ended for him right there. So since Hange hasn’t ended, he said “ watch out for me.” That’s the reason why Levi, who’s looked at dead soldiers in the eye, didn’t look at Hange.”

It’s simply, Levi didn’t say “Rest in peace,” or “Goodnight.” but “See ya, Hange. Keep looking out for me.”

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿

Going back to the quote about Titans, the summary is, that in Japanese, Levi’s speech seems incredibly nuanced because he uses language that suggests that Hange and him have come to a mutual feeling, and it’s simply by stating “with Titans” (but there’s a mutual love with me). That’s why the above essay questions if this isn’t a misprint or mistake, or perhaps it’s nothing at all. (I want to point out, that one user suggested it could refer to Eren, but it seems unlikely)

This is his “answer.” And Hange says...”...We’ll get along soon enough.”

There’s a “...” before Hange says that, indicating a pause, whether out of surprise by being called “four-eyes”, or carefully thinking on how to respond to “とは”

Some other notes before I close this up, I thought this was a nice thought on LeviHan:

Hange was introduced while talking and having contact with Levi and Hange exited while talking and having contact with Levi. Really, Hange’s story started and ended with Levi.

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿

I apologize if this seems everywhere, I’m not particularly fond of writing, but for Hange’s last chapter, I feel like English speakers should get in on what Japanese levihan fans were saying.

終わり

#levihan #snk132 #essay

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kuroopaisen · 3 years

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tiny love || 8

➵ as tooru’s younger sister, falling in love with iwaizumi hajime was easy. iwaizumi ultimately decided to rebuff you. through a few strange twists of fate, you’ve ended up living with the very boy who’d broken your heart. but, perhaps it’s not as bad as you thought it’d be. he is the perfect gentleman, after all.

warnings: f!reader, angst??

wc: 3.9k

m.list | ch. 7 ↞ ch. 8 ↠ ch. 9

The film was alright. There was a certain chaos to it, an unhinged energy that gave it real character. Although, you weren’t quite sure how to feel about the reverse-Freudian implications of Marty’s mother getting a crush on him.

The phone in your lap buzzed, shooting light upwards into the darkened room. Glancing down, you read the name ‘Kohei’ on the screen.

It’d be rude to text him back during the movie, right? Since Iwaizumi was showing you this specific film… Although, it’d been your choice.

You turned your mind away from the question, your eyes flitting back to the screen.

The man with the frazzled white hair – Doc, was it? – was speaking at a rapid-fire pace. If it weren’t for the subtitles, you would’ve been totally lost.

Your phone buzzed again. Still Kohei. You covered the screen with your hand, trying to block out the ambiance-ruining brightness.

Yet another buzz.

“Who is that?” Iwaizumi frowned. “They’ve got a lot to say.”

“Sorry,” you blushed, turning your phone over so it was face down on the arm of the couch. “It’s Kohei.”

“Kohei?” There’s a strange lilt in Iwaizumi’s voice.

You ignored it. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure you met him at the party.”

“Oh,” Iwaizumi hummed. “Right.”

He said nothing more, turning his attention back to the screen.

You bit your lip, fingers tightening around your phone.

It felt a little weird, doing something so casual with him. Well, you’d been doing casual things with him for a while, but something about this just felt so domestic. Probably didn’t help that the last time you did this together, he’d kissed you.

Your stomach twisted at the thought.

God, that felt like a lifetime ago now. And maybe it was, in some way; neither of you were those people anymore.

But a part of you still wanted to kiss him, just like back then.

You knew you shouldn’t think about it. He’d pushed you away two years ago for a reason. If you wanted this whole living situation thing to keep going smoothly, you had to respect that.

And yet, it felt unfair.

This was all so easy. So natural.

But it was something you couldn’t have. Something you couldn’t hope for.

You swallowed roughly, slipping your hands under your thighs.

You couldn’t think about it. If you did, you’d just make things worse.

And you were willing to do just about anything to maintain the delicate friendship between the two of you.

✧ ✧ ✧

“So,” Tooru’s voice came through the speaker with its usual levity. “How’s living with Iwa?”

Your stomach dropped. “It’s good!”

It’s not a lie. You just didn’t want to talk about it with Tooru. At least half of the things that made the whole arrangement so fun were things you didn’t exactly want to mention to your older brother.

“You don’t have to rub it in!” He whined.

“Rub what in?” You blinked, a little lost.

“The fact that you get to live with Iwa!”

Oh. Right.

“You’re the one who suggested it,” you teased.

“I know, but it doesn’t make it sting any less!”

“He would’ve killed you within the first day,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“Not true!” Tooru barked.

You laughed. You didn’t need to see him to know the exact expression on his face. He’d always been comically expressive, even as a child.

That warm silence that always followed laughter settled over the call.

“Oh, man,” Tooru chuckled. “No, but how are you going?” He asked.

It’d been a while since the two of you had really gotten the chance to talk. Both of you had just been too busy; any catchups you managed to sneak in didn’t allow for much time to really get into the details of your lives.

But today was the day.

“I’ve been doing really well, actually!” It was such a delight to be able to say those words with full sincerity. “I’m still adjusting and everything, but… I think it’s going to be good.”

Small hiccups with Iwaizumi aside, everything was under control. Sure, sometimes you weren’t quite sure what they were saying in class, and yes, you did procrastinate more than perhaps you should’ve – but you were making a life here.

“See, I told you!” He chided.

“Yeah, you keep reminding me of that,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“I’m just saying,” he hummed, adopting his favourite ‘hoity-toity older brother’ tone, “you should’ve listened to me in the first place.”

“I know, I know…” You sighed.

Tooru had told you time and time again that things’d worked out. ‘If I can move to a whole new country on my own, then you can definitely do it with Iwa’s help,’ he’d said. You’d had trouble believing him at first; but for once, he’d been right.

“I’m glad the two of you have each other, you know?” He said.

You flinched. Now those were words you hadn’t expected to hear.

“Huh?”

“You and Iwa,” Tooru explained. “He doesn’t talk about his feelings often, but I think you being there has really helped him relax.”

Your stomach churned.

Was that true? Had your presence really made Iwaizumi feel better? He’d done a lot to help you, but you felt like you hadn’t really done anything for him. You’d just felt like something of a burden.

But if that wasn’t actually true…

“What do you mean?” You asked quietly. God, you hoped your voice wasn’t giving anything away.

“Well, you know,” Tooru said, “you’re someone he knows from home. That sounds pretty comforting to me.”

You were grateful he couldn’t see the pink blooming on your cheeks. “Are you asking me to move to Argentina?” You teased. You didn’t know what else to say.

“Well, I wouldn’t say no—”

“Because I’d rather die.”

The gasp that erupted from Tooru was so loud it peaked the audio. “How dare you? If we were living together, I’d be able to keep an eye on you. And, I could ward of any pesky boys.”

“That’s the problem.”

“Don’t be so inappropriate!” Tooru shrieked. “I don’t want to know the details!”

“I wasn’t going to tell you any of the details!”

“You were about to!”

“No I wasn’t!”

“I’ll have you know, you are far too young to be dating, young lady, and that—”

“I’m only a year younger than you!”

“And?”

“Shut up, Tooru!”

✧ ✧ ✧

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. The kitchen table was supposed to help you get your ass into gear. But instead, your laptop was open, but nothing had been done. The screen was probably a few moments away from turning idle.

A to-do list stared back at you, unrelenting. The sound of rain against the windows was your only companion. Iwaizumi had left for the gym some time ago, and you’d decided that music would be too much of a distraction.

Not that the absence of it was helping you.

Come on, you thought to yourself, just focus.

Easier said than done.

You groaned, leaning back against your chair. Why was it so hard to focus?

A deep breath, and then—

Slap!

Your cheeks stung from the impact of your own palms.

No difference.

The sound of the door opening was a beautiful reprieve. Finally, a worthy excuse to procrastinate—

“Hey.” Iwaizumi said a little breathlessly, holding his hand up in greeting.

You gaped at him.

Words might’ve come to mind if it was any other circumstances.

But when he was just standing there like that, you couldn’t help it.

A white shirt that clung to his torso, cheeks flushed with recent exertion, hair all messy—

It was official. You needed to start writing up your will, saying your goodbyes, getting all your chickens in order. Iwaizumi was certifiably too much, and you couldn’t handle it.

You were doing your best to respond. Truly. But it’s like his chest was a damn magnet, drawing your eyes back to it no matter how hard you tried to look at him respectfully.

Stupid Iwaizumi Hajime and his stupid shirt and his stupid chest—

“You good?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Me?” Your gaze snapped up to meet his. “Oh, yeah. I’m great, actually.”

“If you say so,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“Well,” you gaped at him, trying to fight off the myriad of phantasmal shirtless Iwaizumi’s dancing around your head. You were losing. “I’m offended that you’re not more concerned.”

“You’ll recover,” he grinned.

You pouted at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this treatment.”

Iwaizumi chuckled again, ambling across the room with an aggravatingly slow pace. The sooner he was out of sight, the better.

“It’s tough love, sweetheart,” he tutted. “It’s how the world works.”

“Well—” You huffed, trying to think of a retort. But, you were far too distracted by the use of ‘sweetheart’ – even if it hadn’t been used in an affectionate way.

“I’m going to have a shower,” Iwaizumi said, smirking at you. “I hope you’re feeling better by the time I get out.”

“Mhm,” you nodded, eyes fixated determinedly on your computer screen. If you looked up and saw his glutes, you were sure you’d implode.

You covered your face with your forearms, letting out a silent scream.

Why did God hate you? Why did he want you to suffer? Every time you thought you’d got it under control, you were reminded of the fact that Iwaizumi looked like that, and any work you’d done to neatly tuck your romantic feelings into a box managed to wriggle like a rebellious young cat.

Every goddamn time, you were reminded of just how determined he was, how responsible, how quietly caring, how—

No. You shook your head. No need to indulge those thoughts. Not when you were supposed to be doing work.

Although, there was no way you were getting anything done today.

✧ ✧ ✧

“How old are you in these?” You grinned, glancing at Kohei.

His cheeks flushed. “I think I was like… sixteen here?”

“Sixteen, huh?”

“You know what high schools like back home,” he whined. “We all deserve some stress relief.”

“And yours was… running at each other across a field while screaming at the top of your lungs?”

“You should try it,” he beamed. “It’s surprisingly effective.”

You laughed, your body curving towards him.

You hadn’t planned on inviting Kohei over today. You’d just happened to bump into him by chance on campus as you were heading home. As usual, he’d struck up quite the conversation. But you’d wanted to get home before it got dark, so you’d invited him to come with you.

So there you were, sitting on your couch in the front room, listening to Kohei tell you about the stupid video he and his high school friends made back in Osaka. Most of them were re-enactments of Naruto scenes.

To each their own, you supposed.

The creak of front door came from around the corner.

“Hey Hajime!” You called out.

“Hey,” he called back, voice warm.

“You’re home later than usual,” you said.

“I was hanging out with Taiki,” he explained. “We got bubble tea.”

“Oh, nice,” you nodded, watching as he came into view.

He smiled as he caught sight of you. It took him a moment to realise you weren’t alone.

“You remember Kohei, right?” You gestured to the boy sitting next to you.

“Hello,” Kohei nodded, bright smile on his face.

“Hi,” Iwaizumi said. His smile disappeared, expression becoming even stonier than usual.

The atmosphere felt a shade cooler than it had a moment prior.

“You didn’t tell me you were having someone over,” Iwaizumi said coolly, heading to his bedroom.

“It was impromptu,” you explained.

“Mhm,” was the last sound you heard before he disappeared down the hall.

You clenched your fists in your lap. Had something happened? Was it okay to ask?

If something was up, Kohei certainly hadn’t noticed it. Not that you expected him to.

“How’d you feel about the most recent Godzilla film?” He asked.

“Uh… I don’t think we have it.” That was the polite way of saying ‘Iwaizumi hates that film with his entire being, and he wouldn’t dare debase this household by buying it on DVD.’

You’d heard his rant a couple of times, actually – insufficient screen time for Godzilla, a lack of understanding of the point of a monster movie, mediocre battles.

“Oh, that’s okay,” Kohei shrugged. “It’s on Netflix.”

“Ah, I see,” you nodded.

Why did it already feel like agreeing to a movie was a mistake?

✧ ✧ ✧

Thirty minutes in and you knew it was a mistake.

You were bored. Horribly, terribly bored.

But you didn’t have the heart to tell Kohei that when he, at least, seemed to be enjoying himself.

Besides, you could find other ways to occupy yourself. You could just think (see: fantasise) about Gojou Satoru. That’d been more than enough to keep you entertained during your duller classes.

Iwaizumi ambled into the kitchen, his eyes flicking to the two of you for only a second. You held up your hand a little as a greeting; he didn’t return it.

You swallowed, turning your ‘attention’ back to the TV.

Something was wrong. You didn’t know what, but… If Kohei wasn’t there, you would’ve just walked over to Iwaizumi and asked him if there was any way you could help. But having a guest… complicated things.

Said guest stretched his arms over his head. You hoped, absentmindedly, that he’d had a shower recently.

He laid one of his arms along the top of the couch, just ghosting your shoulders.

You managed to hold back a frown. What was he doing? Was he trying to hit on you? Or was it absentminded? If it was the former, then it was a rather childish way of—

A loud clutter erupted from the kitchen. A quiet ‘shit’ quickly followed.

You shot to your feet on instinct, rushing over to where a very disgruntled Iwaizumi stood.

“Are you okay?” You asked, looking him up and down.

Water stained his shirt, the water jug lying sideways on the countertop.

“I’m fine,” Iwaizumi grunted, setting it upright.

You grabbed the tea towel, dabbing at his shirt. Sure, it wouldn’t be much help, but—

“I said I’m fine.”

You draw back sharply, shocked by the harshness in his voice.

Instead you turned to the puddle of water on the counter, laying the tea towel over it. You watched as it turned a shade darker, seeping through the cotton until there wasn’t a single inch of dry cloth left.

Iwaizumi had turned away from you, standing in front of the sink as he refilled the water jug.

You pressed your lips together, concern and agitation brewing in your gut.

He seemed… Stressed? Irritated? Bitter?

But you couldn’t ask. Not right now. You’d have to wait until Kohei was gone, at the very least. And you didn’t want to pry. Iwaizumi didn’t appreciate that sort of thing.

Was there anything you could do for now? Anything at all?

“Did you want to order food with us?” You asked, tilting your head to the side. It was the best thing you could think of; giving him one less thing to worry about might help, right?

“No,” Iwaizumi said curtly.

You blinked at him. “You sure? It’ll save you the trouble of making dinner.”

“I’d rather eat on my own,” he grumbled.

“Oh,” you murmured.

You were at a total loss. Something was wrong.

But you turned away, slinking back to the couch.

“Is everything okay?” Kohei asked as you sat yourself back down.

“Mhm,” you nodded.

As a precaution, you set a little more distance between the two of you. If you sat any closer, he might get the wrong idea.

✧ ✧ ✧

After what felt like three days, the film was over. What’d happened in it? You couldn’t say. You hadn’t been paying attention.

You’d instead been preoccupied with Iwaizumi.

Maybe you were worrying too much over something minor. Maybe he’d just had a bad day at work. Maybe Taiki had just been a brat. Maybe he just had a few assignments due in close succession.

But that didn’t stop you from feeling anxious. Was that pathetic?

At the very least, you wanted to make sure he was okay. This behaviour seemed… weird.

“What time is it?” You turned to Kohei, tilting your head to the side.

“Uh… eight,” he said, checking his phone.

It was that late already? But there was still so much you needed to get done…

You yawned, stretching you hands above your head. “Thanks for hanging out with me today,” you said, turning to smile at Kohei.

“No problem,” he nodded, in response, offering you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Nothing more needed to be said to get the message across.

The two of you walked towards the front door, Kohei’s steps a little slower than yours.

You didn’t want to make it look like you were trying to rush him out of there, but you also didn’t want to give him the impression that you wanted him to stay. Everything just felt so weird, so… so high stakes. Like any little action you made was at risk of being misinterpreted.

“Well…” Kohei lingered at your door for a moment, looking at you with what seemed to be hope in his eyes.

“I’ll see you later, okay?” You smiled.

“Sure,” he nodded, opening the door. “Thanks.” He seemed a tad more dour than usual. Your stomach twisted a little.

“Bye!” You said, hoping that this, at least, would set your boundaries.

He didn’t seem bold enough to make an actual move, but you’d rather save the trouble.

You watched with a tiny sense of relief blooming in your chest as he stepped over the threshold and walked away.

Once the door finally closed, you let out a long sigh.

Something was up. Even you could tell that. His attempts at flirting, while juvenile, were earnest. What a strange evening this had been…

At the very least, you made a note to not invite him to your house alone again. That’d been your first mistake.

You dragged yourself to the kitchen, pouring out a glass of water. The tea towel was still soaked through, laid out on the counter. You’d probably have to get a bath towel to clean this mess up.

You sunk to the floor, feeling the cool tiles against the back of your thighs.

Were you going to have to turn Kohei down? God, you didn’t want to do that. That sounded awkward. And he was genuinely a sweet guy – your heart just wasn’t in the right space.

Not while you were living with Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi.

Something was off with him, too. But you had no idea what. He’s always been tight-lipped about his own feelings. Even two years ago, it had never been about him; it’d be about the potential ramifications his actions could’ve had on the people around him.

He never wanted to be a burden. Even though he’d leant you a hand so many times these past six months, you knew he’d never ask for the same in return.

But you wanted to help. He deserved support.

Should you ask? Should you try bringing it up, or—

“Oh, fuck.”

Your looked up sharply.

Iwaizumi was stood at the entrance of the kitchen, shoulders tense with surprise.

“Oh, sorry,” you swallowed, crossing your legs.

He just grunted in response, turning his attention to the fridge.

You bit your lip, watching him closely. His posture was tense, his jaw stiffer than usual.

“Hey, Hajime?” You asked, voice soft and quiet.

“What?” His response was quick, sharp.

“Are you alright?” Perhaps you should’ve asked this earlier. Perhaps you shouldn’t ask it at all. But it was too late to take it back.

“I’m fine,” he grunted, half-slamming the fridge door.

“I know you’re lying,” you said softly.

He may keep his feelings to himself, but he wasn’t the best at disguising them. Especially when it came to annoyance.

With Tooru, it tended to bubble over, resulting in some rant or threat. But these days, you didn’t really see him get pissed except for when the washing machine wasn’t working properly.

“Mind your own business.”

Those words cut you to your core.

This was… strange. Unusual. He’d seemed fine this morning, and as far as you knew, he’d just… been to the gym. His demeanour had only taken a nose-dive when…

“Why are you being like this?” You asked, voice thin and tight. God, this better not be what you were thinking.

“Being like what?” Iwaizumi mumbled, staring at his phone.

You bit the inside of your cheek.

Did he really have no idea that he was acting like a petulant child who didn’t want to eat their vegetables?

“Do you have a problem with Kohei?” He couldn’t dodge that question.

“No,” he said, still looking at his phone. “He just comes off as a bit desperate.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“You can’t be serious,” Iwaizumi scoffed. “He’s not subtle.”

You stared at him, total confusion clouding your mind.

What on earth was he on about? Desperate? Subtle? Wasn’t it just a case of him having a grudge for no reason?

Wait. Holy fuck. Was he… jealous?

The realisation washed over you like a fever.

Anger, rage, bitterness. It all collapsed in on itself, feelings you’d been supressing for two years.

He’d crushed your heart in the palm of his hand two years ago. Told you that any kind of romantic relationship between the two of you would be too much of a risk.

And you’d let him.

You hadn’t fought back. You hadn’t stood up for your own feelings. You’d just let him do what he wanted, what he thought was best. And never, not even once, had you made your feelings known.

But here he was, with the audacity to be jealous of a guy flirting with you.

He didn’t own you. He had no say in what happened in your personal life. If you wanted to sleep around, if you wanted to have a long-term partner that wasn’t him… it didn’t matter. It was your business, not his.

And yet, the worst thing of all was that this response, this jealousy, made your heart flutter. It made you hopeful; that maybe, this time, things might be different.

That Iwaizumi Hajime wasn’t so far out of reach. That this time, you had a chance.

Fuck him.

“No,” you hissed. “I’m not letting you break my heart again.”

Iwaizumi’s eyes blew wide, his lips parting slightly.

“You dropped me like I was nothing two years ago,” you scoffed. “You don’t get to act like a spoilt little brat just because you’re jealous.”

“Look, I—” He stopped himself in his tracks.

He really had nothing to say for himself, huh?

You glared at him, the corners of your eyes beginning to sting. “You’re acting like a child,” you hissed. “I hoped you were better than that.”

You didn’t give him time to respond.

He didn’t deserve to.

You stormed off to your room, slamming the door behind you.

A deep, shuddering breath wasn’t enough to still your stuttering heart. Nor was it enough to move the lump in your throat.

God, what a colossal disaster.

But for once, it wasn’t your fault.

✧ ✧ ✧

a/n: sorry this one’s late! thank you for your patience :( i hope it was worth the wait

#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi hajime x you #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu x reader #tiny love

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