#It is probably not as edited as it could have been!

[girlgenius1111]

overworked

putellas!reader r is struggling with being a full time student & playing for Barça, and being alexia putellas' sister. she turns to some unhealthy methods to cope, and her sister is not pleased when she finds out. warnings: panic attacks, hospitalization, drug use [very mild]

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"Alexia," Olga murmured, shaking her girlfriend gently. The blonde only mumbled incoherently, rolling away from the disruptive sound of her girlfriend's voice, and tucking her head under her pillow.

"Alexia Putellas Segura," Olga repeated, yanking the pillow away.

"Hey! What do you want?" Alexia asked grumpily, glaring up at her girlfriend.

"I think your sister is still awake. I went to get water and her light was on."

Alexia sighed, running a hand over her face. "What time?"

"It's 3am."

"Hermanita loca," Alexia groaned, rolling off the side of the bed and directly onto the floor, before popping up and heading for the door.

"You are so dramatic." Olga sighed, rolling her eyes at her girlfriend's antics.

You'd lived with your sister for a while now; after signing with Barça, Alexia had convinced your mami that the best thing would be for you to live with her. Alexia could keep an eye on you, and Eli wouldn’t have to deal with the crazy schedule you had to follow. 

Being a 20 year old playing for the best football club in the world, while simultaneously being a full time student was not easy. In fact, you were pretty sure it was slowly killing you. 

You were, and always had been, a perfectionist. You weren't a quitter. In your family, you saw through your commitments. So, even though you were dead tired, stressed beyond belief, and barely keeping up with your coursework, you wouldn't give up. You wouldn't even drop a class. You were running yourself into the ground, and everyone around you could tell. Well, mostly everyone. 

You'd heard Olga get up, and you knew her well enough to know that she had probably woken your sister to tell her that your light was on. Before she could come marching into your room and take your computer, you flicked the light off, shut your laptop, and burrowed under the covers.

Sure enough, your door creaked open a minute later, and your sister poked her head in, finding you 'asleep'. She knew you, though, too, and she didn't buy it for a second.

"Nice try." She said, voice just above a whisper. She moved towards your bed, flicking the light back on, and grabbing your laptop.

"Alexiaaaa," you complained, pretending she'd woken you. You squinted your eyes at her, removing the covers from your face, finding her staring at you with one eyebrow raised. You knew you were fucked, but you needed to get this essay done, tonight. The thought of adding it to tomorrow's to-do list made you want to cry.

"That was quite a performance." She opened the computer, where your essay was still pulled up, and looked at the document history.

"'Last edit made: 3 minutes ago'. Do you think I don't know all your tricks, nena?" Alexia teased, shutting the laptop again, and moving to get off the bed to leave the room with it. She caught your facial expression, though, and realized you were barely holding back tears.

"Hey," she said softly. "What is it? What's wrong?" Alexia took a seat back on the edge of the bed, brushing a piece of hair out of your face as you blinked hard, willing the tears away.

"Please give it back." You managed, gesturing towards your computer.

Alexia grew stern once more. "Nena. No. It's late, and you need sleep. This isn't healthy."

"I need to finish this essay, Alexia, please," you pleaded. You and your sister were similar, especially in that you were both very stubborn. The chance of either of you letting up was... low. Alexia held your computer, though, and therefore, held all the power.

"No. You can finish it tomorrow."

"I can't! We have training, and I have an essay to do for another class, and an exam to study for, and a presentation to start, and-"

"You are working yourself too hard, nena. None of those things are more important than sleep. You can turn in some things late, it won't kill you."

Unlike you, Alexia was not a perfectionist; at least not when it came to school. She tolerated it for as long as she had to, before putting all of her energy into football. It had paid off, but Alexia never understood your need to be a good student, to get the highest grade possible in everything.

This very distinct difference between the two of you often caused confusion on Alexia’s part, and frustration on yours. Alexia didn’t understand why you couldn’t just relax about school, and you didn’t understand how Alexia expected you to be okay with getting anything less than a perfect score. 

“Alexia,” you began. 

“No. Sleep.” Alexia insisted, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead before leaving your room, your computer held hostage in her arms. You waited until her footsteps faded down the hall before you grabbed your phone from the nightstand and opened up your essay. It wasn’t ideal, but it needed to be done. Sleep was the last thing on your mind. 

You finished the essay an hour later, which gave you only 5 hours of sleep. Still, you’d trained with less sleep, and you probably would again. 

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Being the sister of the best in the world wasn’t easy. Alba had been telling you that for years. Being the sister of the best in the world, and playing the same sport that she was the best at, though? That was a different kind of nightmare, one which you lived everyday. 

Though the athleticism genes seemed to skip right over your middle sister, it was clear to everyone that from a young age that you were talented on the football pitch. The 10 year age gap between you and your sister meant that Alexia had always blurred the line between parent figure and sister. Once you got serious about football, Alexia made it her mission to make sure you were the best that you could be. 

From extra training to talking about tactics while you were supposed to be studying for school, your sister had always made it clear to you that if you wanted football, school would have to come second. Your mami disagreed heavily, but no one on earth had the will to stop Alexia doing something she’d decided was important. And as her baby sister, you showing interest in following in her footsteps was the most important thing. Ever. She’d moved you in with her when you were 18, still playing on the Barça B team. It was because of your sister that you excelled enough there to move up to the first team by the time you were 19. 

Your sister had been stunned when you told her you intended to attend university and get your degree while you continued your football career. For her, football was it. Football was everything. It was all she had ever wanted to do, and all she would ever want to do. For you, though, it was much more complicated. You loved football. And maybe you would have loved it as much as Alexia did, if it hadn’t been for your sister herself. 

It was a combination of things that had begun to leech away your love for the game. It was the pressure Alexia put on you, for sure. The demand for perfection at all times, even if she told you that it was okay to make mistakes. It was the expectations inside of the team to be a mini Alexia, to take charge and be a leader even though you were much shyer and quieter than she was. Above all else, though, it was the feeling that nothing you would ever accomplish, no matter how hard you tried, how hard you pushed, would ever be enough. Alexia, the public, the team, the coaching staff, they all expected you to be a younger version of your sister. They expected you to do what she did, sooner than she’d done it, and better than she’d done it. 

The pressure mounted. It built over several years, accumulating until you were 20 years old, and you weren’t even sure why you were still playing. You didn’t think you loved football anymore. You kept going because of Alexia, because you’d made commitments. But the truth was that you worked so hard in school because that was your safety net. It was your chance to do something that was your own, do something that Alexia hadn’t done first. It was a place where you were spared constant comparisons to your sister, a place where you felt like yourself, your own person. 

You loved Ale; that wasn’t the issue. It was just that very accomplishment you had was tinged with it just not being as good as something your sister had done. And it felt like everything football related you would ever do would be overshadowed. 

It felt like if you ever wanted to be something other than Alexia Putellas’ baby sister, you’d have to do it someplace else. 

So it was a full workload of classes for you, on top of training with the team. On top of playing for the national team. Alexia didn’t understand why school was so important, no one did. But you were committed to having a back up plan. Football wasn’t your passion at the moment. So much of the joy you had while playing had drained away. 

You couldn’t slow down with football, that was out of the question. And you couldn’t slow down with school, either, not if you wanted to graduate on time. Your only option was to push through. 

It was inevitable, really, that you’d stumble, that it would all become too much. And inevitable that you’d break. You just couldn’t fathom what would come after that, so you plowed forward. Moved steadily ahead, towards the edge of a cliff. You didn’t know what awaited you at the bottom once you fell from the edge, but you were well past caring. 

-------

Your sister always kept a close eye on you during training. She made sure you were hydrated enough, that you didn’t get overheated, that you weren’t doing anything to risk injury. Any hint of discomfort on your face had your sister yanking you off the pitch and dragging you inside to get evaluated. 

No one could ever accuse Alexia of not caring. 

Today, she noted that you looked preoccupied. And that you’d brought your phone into the gym with you, which in and of itself wasn’t odd. It was the way you were checking it obsessively in between reps that had Alexia slightly concerned. You weren’t talking to your friends the way you normally did, and just as Alexia had decided to put her foot down and pull you aside, you picked up your phone again. 

This time, your face dropped, all the color draining out of your cheeks. Before Alexia could take even a step in your direction, you were slipping out of the gym, rushing into the locker room as you stared at something on your phone.

“What are you doing?” Alexia said, following you into the locker room. 

“I- I got a grade back.” You told her. 

“A grade?” 

“On the exam from last week,” you whispered. 

“Is it bad?” Alexia wondered, taking a few steps closer to you. Her mind flashed back to when she used to have to show Eli a bad grade she’d gotten on an exam during school. Normally, she’d slip her the paper and take off to hide in your room, because Eli didn’t like to yell in front of the baby. Alexia wondered if you were so upset because you were worried about her reaction. 

“No Ale, I did well, that’s why I'm freaking out,” you snapped sarcastically, falling back down onto the bench as your chest heaved, hiding your face in your hands. “I can’t breathe.”

“Hermana?” Alexia asked, brow furrowing with concern as she looked at you. 

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t,” you repeated, your voice muffled by your hands. 

“What is happening?” Alexia asked, her face clouded with concern as she sat down next to you. “Hermanita, tell me what is wrong.” 

You thrust your phone into her hands. It took Alexia a moment to figure out what she was looking at, but then she saw the grade reflected back at her. It wasn’t bad by any means, but it wasn’t your usual perfect score. 

“Nena, this isn’t bad,” she tried, but you pulled your hands away from your face to glare at her, barely able to form words. 

“It’s- not good enough, Ale, I need to do bet-better than that, it’s not good enough,” you sobbed. Alexia couldn’t remember ever caring this much about a grade, but she knew how different you were from her, and she did her best to comfort you. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay nena,” she soothed, noticing Irene and Mapi walking in through the locker room door, looking concerned, but she couldn’t tear her focus away from you. You’d gone completely silent on her, the only sound you were making being a choked gasp as you tried to inhale enough air. “Nena?” 

“Ale, help,” you cried, both of your trembling hands clawing at your chest. Your face was rapidly losing color and you looked completely dazed and completely petrified. Irene and Mapi moved closer, looking between the two of you.

“Hermana?” Alexia panicked. You shook your head, a few tears escaping. You swayed in your seat, tilting forward until you were half leaning on your sister, and gripped onto her shirt with your hands, desperate for some relief from the tidal wave of terror and panic rushing through you.  “Nena, talk to me.” Alexia said, rubbing your back as she looked between her teammates. 

“Can’t breathe,” you gasped, “chest hurts.” 

Alexia froze, but Irene snapped into action. 

“Mapi, call an ambulance.” She instructed. “Ale, let’s get her on the ground before she passes out.” 

The world was swirling around you, nothing comprehensible. Before you knew it, you were laid on the floor of the locker room, your head resting in your sister’s lap as her hands anxiously fiddled with your hair. You could see her mouth moving, and you tried to force your ears to hear anything other than an echoing ring. 

“You’re okay, nena. You’re okay, I’ve got you. You’re going to be just fine.” 

You blinked, but when you opened your eyes next, you were moving through the halls of the Barça facility. You felt a bit like you were floating, and though there was a mask on your face that was forcing oxygen into you, it still didn’t feel like there was enough air on earth to fill your lungs. 

You blinked again, and Alexia’s face was hovering over yours, along with the face of a stranger. You could hear a bit better now, and even as your eyes tried to shut, you did your best to listen before you drifted back off.

“-does she keep passing out?” That sounded like Alexia. Worried Alexia.  

“A lack of oxygen, she’s breathing too rapidly. Every time she comes to, her heart rate picks up again.” 

“Stay awake, please,” Alexia begged, the paramedic next to her forgotten as she glanced down and noticed your eyes were open.  

And you wanted to, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t think, you couldn’t move, you couldn’t breathe. You were pretty sure you were dying, and the only thought you had was that at least the anxiety would finally stop. 

-------

You were completely calm when you woke up. Sleepy beyond belief, and your body felt heavy, but you were calm. It was hard to peel your eyes open, and harder to try to move your hand to rub at your eyes. 

You remembered what had happened, but you didn’t feel panicked like you normally did. The constant pulse of anxiety wasn’t running through you as it normally did, and though you couldn’t figure out why, you were relieved beyond belief. 

“Hey,” Alexia whispered. She was sat at your bedside, cheeks alarmingly tearstained. 

Your guard was up instantly, and your sister could tell. She desperately wanted to know what was happening to you, what had caused this, but she knew from the look on your face that you wouldn’t talk to her. 

And that hurt more than she wanted to admit. 

“I am going to go call Mami and tell her you are awake.” Alexia said, avoiding eye contact as she got up and left the room. You hadn’t realized Olga was standing against the wall until she moved, taking Alexia’s vacant seat. She gave you a soft smile. 

“Hi.” You whispered. 

“Hi.” She replied, taking your hand in hers. 

“Was it a panic attack?” 

“It was.” Olga nodded. “Has that happened before?” 

“Never that bad.” 

“You need to talk to someone. And it doesn’t have to be me or Ale, but something is going on. I don’t know what, but you need help.” 

“I’m fine, Olga.” You said, biting your lip and looking away from the brunette. She sat silently for a minute. 

“Alexia is not going to let this go. You know that. You terrified her today, and you know as well as I do that she would go to the ends of the earth to make sure you are okay. It doesn’t matter how much you pretend, nena. She sees right through you.” Olga said gently, falling quiet as your sister reentered the room.

You knew she was right. But like your sister, you were stubborn, too. And you wouldn’t make this easy. 

-------

Three days and two painful therapy sessions later, you were dragged into a meeting to discuss your wellbeing. Your favorite topic. 

The meeting really couldn’t have gone worse. The team psychologist, Ana, couldn’t say much because of confidentiality reasons, but she’d made it clear that if you kept going like this, panic attacks like you'd had the other day would keep happening. You were under a high amount of stress between school and football, and it was of her opinion that something needed to change. 

Ana suggested you be benched for a few weeks, while you figured things out. She told Jona, and Alexia and Irene who were sitting in the meeting, that she didn’t think you were being honest with her, and that if you were going to get better, you needed to be. 

You’d barely spoken during the meeting. Alexia did all the talking for you, and she managed to convince Ana not to bench you, not yet. You were given 2 weeks to get a better football-school balance, and to prove that you were mentally doing better. If your sister, Ana, and Jona felt that you weren’t improving after 2 weeks, you’d be benched.  

You knew Alexia was upset when she ignored you the rest of the day. The entire training session, the entire drive home. Olga looked confused at the icy tension between the two of you as Alexia stormed into the house, turning to face you with a frustrated look on her face. 

“Here is what we are going to do. I want you to drop a class, but you are not going to agree to that. So, you are going to put your computer in my room every night at 11pm. You will either finish your homework by then or it won’t get done. Either way, you will go to bed at 11. You will see the psychologist twice a week. You will come to me if you have any more panic attacks. We are fixing this before it goes any further, okay?”

She paused, raising her eyebrows at you. 

“Okay.” You agreed. There was no arguing with your sister, and you knew it. You’d have to break the rules, rather than try to change them. Alexia was instantly suspicious how easily you’d agreed to her request. 

“There is no option of you being benched, pequeña. Football comes first, before school, before everything. Do you understand?” 

“I understand.” 

“Good.” Alexia turned without another word, heading upstairs to take a shower. You avoided eye contact with Olga, as you slipped upstairs, too. You had a call to make.

-------

It was a bad idea. You knew it as soon as you bought the pills, but that didn’t stop you. 

It was just a few. Just to get you through this upcoming round of exams and through football. You had to wait for Alexia and Olga to both fall asleep to get your computer out of their room. Once you finished your homework, it was normally around 3 or 4 and you were exhausted. You had to put your computer back, and then you could go to sleep. It wasn’t a sustainable routine, but it was your only choice. And the only way you knew how to accomplish it was to take the adderall you’d bought from a boy at school. 

You couldn’t quit school. When football failed, or you quit, whichever came first, you needed to have a plan b. School was your plan b. 

And you weren’t sure you wanted to quit football. You hadn’t decided yet. It was suffocating, playing in Alexia’s shadow, and you just weren’t sure how much more you could take. Quitting, though. You weren’t quite there yet. 

You just had to keep going. Keep trying to balance both things, and not let anyone know how miserable you were. You didn’t really consider, very naively, that the pills would make everything worse. 

-------

You took one for the first time the next evening after training. 

The guilt that hit after you swallowed the pill was unbearable. You couldn't work, couldn’t get anything done. You curled up into a ball on your bed and let your thoughts run wild. All you could think was that you were risking everything; school, football, everything. 

It was school or it was football, but you couldn’t have both. You were pretty sure of that now. Something had to change. You had to get rid of the pills, and you had to make a decision. 

School or football. 

Disappointing your sister, or never living up to her expectations. 

And, ironically, the only person you could really turn to for help was Alexia 

You couldn’t keep everything a secret anymore. And even though you were terrified of being honest with her, you knew you had no other choice. 

-------

Alexia and Olga were lounging on the couch, Olga draped across your sister, when you walked in. Olga saw you first, sitting up slightly at the sight of the distressed look on your face. She nudged Alexia, who paused the TV and turned expectantly towards you, a frown tugging at her lips as she looked up at you. 

“Pequeña-?” Alexia cut herself off when you took the plastic bag out of your pocket, the little blue pills clearly visible inside. You dropped it onto the table in front of her. 

“I bought them from someone at school. It’s adderall. I didn’t take any. Get rid of them, please.” You said numbly, refusing to make eye contact with your sister, before turning and walking back out of the room. 

Alexia and Olga sat in stunned silence for a minute, before the blonde slowly reached for the bag, picking it up gingerly and looking at the pills. Her expression quickly grew angry, and she moved to stand up from the couch and follow you up the stairs. Olga grabbed her arm, though, pulling her back down onto the couch. 

“Ale, hold on.” 

“She bought drugs, Olga. This could have ruined her career, gotten her kicked out of school, gotten her arrested. You cannot tell me not to yell at her,” Alexia complained, though she turned to Olga with an expectant expression on her face. 

“She brought drugs, Alexia.” Olga repeated slowly. “Your perfect marks, perfect training schedule, perfectly behaved sister bought drugs to try to keep up with her school work. She is so stressed about getting everything done that she bought drugs. She didn’t take them, she gave them to you before she took them. This isn’t normal, Alexia, this is not a normal stress level for a 20 year old to have. Yelling at her is not going to make it better. Trust me, Ale, talk to her like she’s an adult.” 

Alexia considered that, for a minute. It was worth a shot, she supposed. And she could always start yelling if she needed to. 

-------

The softness of the knock on your door was almost unnerving. You’d expected Alexia to follow you up the stairs, shouting her head off. It had been a few minutes, though, and you’d only just heard her quiet footsteps coming up the stairs. 

“Come in,” you called shakily. 

Alexia walked in slowly, her every step measured. You could tell that she was trying to keep herself calm, which is more than you expected. More than you deserved. 

Your sister didn’t speak as she came in, didn’t seem to know what to say. She just slid onto the floor next to you, seemingly stunned into silence.  

“I fucked up.” You said after a minute. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw your sister nod slowly. 

Very suddenly, she put a hand on your shoulder, forcefully turning you in her direction. Her eyes looked severe when you looked up at her, and all you wanted to do was cry and beg for her to forgive you. 

“Hermanita. Did you take any of those pills?” Alexia asked, enunciating each word slowly. She was looking at you right in the eye, and you knew that if you lied, she’d be able to tell. You’d lied before, and you thought you’d be able to keep it going, but you couldn’t. All of a sudden, you felt like another lie might suffocate you. 

“One.” You whispered, shutting your eyes tightly. 

Alexia exhaled slowly. “When? Today?” 

“Sí.” You told her, voice dripping with shame. You couldn't look at her. If she’d been disappointed in you before, you were sure the look on her face now would be something you couldn’t tolerate. 

“You feel okay? No hives, no allergic reactions?” 

“No, I’m fine.” 

Alexia didn’t really feel like taking your word for it, evidently, and you felt her hand grip your chin and turn your face up towards her. She didn’t look as disappointed as you’d feared. She looked worried, and a bit lost as she inspected your face. 

“I don’t know what to say. I’m… I am upset with you. This is just so unlike you, nena, and I am really worried. I don’t know how to help you.”

“I’m never going to do it again, Ale, I gave you all the pills, I swear.” 

Alexia shook her head. “The pills are a problem, but something is going on with you to make you feel like you needed to do this, and I want to understand.” 

“Nothing. It’s nothing, I was just stressed, it was a mistake and I won’t make it again.” You dismissed. 

“It is not nothing!” Alexia shouted, seeing you wince and look away from her. She took a deep breath, reminding herself that yelling wasn’t the way to get you to talk to her. “It is not nothing. I am your sister, nena, you can tell me whatever is going on. I can help you. I can fix whatever isn’t okay, you just have to tell me.” 

“Alexia, there is nothing to fix. Now please, I gave you the pills and I know I fucked up. There isn’t anything to talk about, just leave it alone.” You hated how much she was pushing. You’d prefer if she would just yell. Yelling, you could take. But honesty? And what would come with it? There was no chance on earth that Alexia would understand. She was Alexia, and you were just you. Her younger sister, who would never live up to her legacy, no matter how hard you tried. 

“Leave it alone?!” Alexia yelled again, throwing her hands up in the air dramatically. She rose to her feet, beginning to pace, and you stood up too, crossing your arms defiantly across your chest. “You bought drugs at school, you took a pill that was not prescribed to you, you have been going crazy with anxiety, and I want to know why!” 

“I told you, I was just stressed.” You said through clenched teeth, willing yourself not to rise to her level of anger, even though you wanted to. Why was she pushing so hard? Why did she care so much?

“This has to be more than just stress, pequeña! Doing things like this is not okay, you are not okay.” 

“I’m fine.” You insisted. 

“Stop lying to me!” Alexia yelled, ignoring the appearance of Olga in your doorway, even as she felt her girlfriend giving her a look that told her to calm down. 

“Ale-” Olga began, but you cut her off. 

“ I am doing the best that I can, I am doing everything I can to be good enough for you and for the team and for everyone, but none of it is ever enough!” You shouted, slamming your mouths shut when you felt like you’d said too much. 

“This is about school, not football. No one is making you do school! This stress is your own doing, this pressure is coming from you, not anyone else. Drop a class, drop out for all I care. What you are doing to yourself is completely unnecessary.” Alexia said, completely and entirely confused as to just why school was so important to you. Important enough to risk everything.

“It is not unnecessary, Alexia. I need a backup plan, and school is my backup plan.” 

“You have football, why do you need a backup plan?” Alexia scoffed, rolling her eyes at you in a way that made your body flame with rage. 

“Maybe I don’t want football, Alexia. Maybe that’s not what I want anymore.” 

Alexia stared at you, jaw dropped in shock. “What?” She whispered.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Olga step closer, but you willed yourself not to look at her. Olga was always more sympathetic than Ale, and you were pretty sure the look on her face would break you right now.

“I can’t do it anymore, Ale, I can’t,” 

“You are 20! You are a baby! How could you want to quit, you have barely even gotten started!” 

“You don’t understand what it’s like for me, Alexia.” 

The blonde rolled her eyes. How could you say that? Of course she understood. “I do, nena, I understand better than anyone, but you cannot just give up because things are more difficult than you anticipated.”

“No. You don’t understand. Things aren’t more difficult than I anticipated, they are impossible. I am losing my mind, Ale, I can’t take it anymore. I can’t.” 

“So you want to quit? All of it, everything you’ve worked for. Throw away everything I’ve done for you?”

“I don’t know, Ale. I just can’t do it like this anymore.” 

Your sister didn’t understand. The anger on her face told you that, and you knew when she opened her mouth next, her words would hurt more than you thought possible. 

“If you are quitting because it is hard, you are not the person I thought you were. Putellas’ don’t quit. I expected so much more from you.” 

And even though you’d anticipated it, the words Alexia spit at you still felt like a bullet through the heart. Mostly because you were pretty sure she was right. You were a failure and a disappointment beyond comparison. 

Your sister took a step back, and though her face remained hard, she was horrified at herself. 

“Alexia, that is enough,” Olga snapped, walking to stand in between the two of you. She knew she’d stepped in too late but the roles of Alexia’s girlfriend and of someone who cared about you were difficult to balance. 

“I’m going to Alba’s. I can’t be here right now. I’m sorry Alexia.” You rushed out of the room, leaving your sister frozen, in horror at her own words, behind you. 

-------

When Alexia got to Alba’s,  she could hear you from the hall. Your sister paused for a minute. She’d expected you to be angry, expected you to be telling Alba exactly what she’d said. She’d expected anger, and that wasn’t what she found. 

Instead, she opened the door to Alba’s apartment quietly and stepped inside. You were curled up on the couch, your head in Alba’s lap as she soothingly ran her fingers through your hair. 

“I-I’ve ruined everything,” you sobbed. 

“No, hermanita.You made a mistake. Nothing is ruined.” 

“She hates me now,” you continued, as if you hadn’t heard Alba speak at all. 

“You need to breathe, cariño, you need to calm down.” 

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t,” you cried, before words became impossible and all you could do was cry. 

Alba looked up, then, her face thunderous as she caught sight of her older sister. She shook her head, but Alexia’s eyes were only on you. 

“Hermanita,” she whispered, cautiously walking closer to the sofa. You sat upright at the sound of your oldest sister’s voice, a downright terrified expression on your face. “I don’t hate you, nena. I could never hate you.” 

Your face crumpled at her words, the last stable part of you collapsing.“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I can’t do this anymore, Ale, I can’t,” 

“Alright, alright.” Alexia soothed, sitting down on the couch next to you. 

“We’re gonna fix it, hermanita. Whatever is wrong, whatever you are struggling with, we are going to fix it.” Alba promised you, exchanging a look with her older sister. Alba was pretty furious with Alexia at the moment, but they knew they’d need each other to get you through this.The destroyed state you were in now, the things you’d been doing were all signs that you weren’t okay, and that you needed their help. They were determined to help you.   

You sat in between your sisters, crying harder than you ever had before. You weren’t sure how everything had gotten so messed up. And you weren’t sure you knew how it could be fixed. 

-------

Alexia and Alba had both decided that you should go back home, and get some rest. 

Olga had been anxiously waiting for you both to return, having sent your sister after you almost as soon as you’d left the house. Neither you or Alexia had said much upon arriving back home. You’d been practically catatonic when you’d walked through the front door; cheeks tearstained, body slumped against your sister’s as she helped you into the house. You’d gone right up to bed, and Alexia had simply pulled Olga into a hug. All Ale had told her girlfriend was that she was going to sit you down tomorrow and get you to talk. She was going to figure out what was wrong. What had brought you to this point, why you’d been hiding things from her. She was going to get you to talk if she had to get down on her knees and beg. 

Alexia had already texted Jona and told him neither of you would be in tomorrow, aside from a meeting with Ana that your sister had scheduled for the afternoon. If Alexia couldn’t get you talking, she hoped the therapist would. If that didn’t work, she’d call Eli. The only reason she hadn’t called her mami yet was because she knew how hard Eli would come down on you for the drugs, and on Alexia for not taking better care of you. And Alexia knew that each of you respectively carried enough shame for both of those things. 

 Your sister lay awake in her bed that night, trying to piece together what exactly was happening with you. It was like there was a big piece missing, and she couldn’t think her way through the problem no matter how hard she tried. She tossed and turned in her bed for at least an hour, fighting the urge to go check on you. 

“Ale.” Olga whispered, having been woken up by her girlfriend's restlessness. She rolled onto her side and wrapped her arm around her girlfriend’s body. 

Alexia sniffled. “Did I wake you?” 

“No. I was thirsty.” Olga lied, sitting up to grab her water off her nightstand. “Worrying all night is not going to help your sister, baby.”

“Well, I can try.” Alexia said back, turning on her side to bury her face in Olga’s shirt. “I messed up. So badly. She wants to quit football, she brought drugs at school. She’s been miserable for so long and I didn’t know. I didn’t do anything about it.” 

Olga ran her fingers through her girlfriend’s hair, thinking hard about what to say. “Amor, you can’t go back and change things. You can just try to be better for her.” 

“What if I can’t be better? What if I’m just a bad sister? A bad person?” 

“You aren’t either of those things, mi amor. A mistake doesn’t make you bad.”

“This is more than just one mistake. This is months of mistakes.” 

Olga shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. She is your sister, and she adores you. Both of you will get past this. You love each other too much not to.” 

Alexia sat with that for a moment. It was true. Even if she didn’t always act like it, even if she wasn’t the best at showing it. She loved you and Alba more than anything on earth. And she decided, then and there, that she wouldn’t ever stop trying to prove that to you. 

------

Crying must have tired you out, because when you woke the next day, before even opening your eyes, you could tell it was late. Well past when Alexia would normally wake you up for training. Momentarily, you wondered if she’d gone without you. If she was upset. But then you recognized the soft touch of Alexia’s hand on your back, gently moving back and forth; her preferred way of waking you up. Alexia cherished her sleep, and because she assumed everyone else did too, she was careful to wake you up in the least jarring way possible. 

You rolled over, clonking your head into her knee. Grumpily, you opened your eyes. Alexia was not in her training clothes. She was still in her pajamas, in fact, looking down at you nervously. You weren’t used to her being nervous to talk to you. 

“Hola.” She greeted. “I woke you up because you never sleep this late, but if you are still tired, you can go back to sleep. We have an appointment with Ana at 2, and I was hoping we could talk before that, but we don’t have to. We can just-”

You cut off her rambling with a shake of your head, dragging your body into a sitting position. Your head was pounding, probably a combination of all the cry and dehydration. 

“No, I’m okay. I’m up. We can talk. I’ll be down in a few minutes.” 

“Okay!” Alexia said much too quickly. She ruffled your hair awkwardly before turning and heading downstairs, looking back at you slumped in your bed at least 3 times. 

When you appeared downstairs 5 minutes later, having made yourself look somewhat presentable, Alexia was sitting on the couch, anxiously bouncing her knee as she waited for you. She had her phone in her hand, and she was rapidly texting someone. Alba or Olga, you guessed. You carefully sat down on the couch a safe distance away from her, now feeling a bit nervous yourself. 

You didn’t know what you were supposed to say. If being honest would make things better or worse. If things could really even get any worse. 

“You wanted to talk.” You said after a minute, finally venturing a quick glance at your sister, who was looking expectantly at you. 

“I want you to talk. And I want to listen.” Alexia said gently. 

You thought for a moment, before shrugging. “What do you want me to talk about?”

The blonde took a deep breath. “Do you want to quit football?” She asked quietly, unable to hide the disappointment in her voice, no matter how hard she tried. She loved playing with you. It was her favorite thing. 

You read her disappointment wrong, though, thinking she was disappointed in you, and you became slightly defensive, and slightly more tense. “Sometimes.” 

Alexia fought the urge to respond to your hostility with her own. Instead, she kept her face soft and open. “Why do you want to quit? And why do you not want to quit?” 

You shifted uncomfortably, fiddling with your fingers in your lap. Avoiding Ale’s gaze, you replied as honestly as you could. “I think I still love it, deep down. It just feels like it’s suffocating me right now. Draining all of my energy and all of my happiness. It’s really hard, Ale. I don’t know how to fix that.” 

Nodding slowly, the blonde tried not to react to your words outwardly. “Can you tell me what is so hard? I have played for many years, nena, and I do not think I have ever struggled as much as you are struggling now. I don’t understand, but I want to.” 

She was being sincere, you could tell. She genuinely did not understand what the issue was. It had never felt this difficult for her, not in this all consuming way. You wanted your sister to understand, but you didn’t want to hurt her. Explaining ran the risk of upsetting her, yet you knew you had no choice. 

“You have played for many years, yes. But you have never played as Alexia Putellas’ younger sister. You have never played in the shadow of the greatest in the world, of your sister.”

Alexia inhaled sharply. “I make it hard? Being my sister makes it hard?” She asked, voice almost a whisper as she tried to fight back tears. This was her fault. 

You nodded miserably. “I can’t go a day without being compared to you. Your talent, your leadership skills, everything. I feel like nothing I do is ever good enough… for you or for anyone else. No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, I will never be you, Ale. And that is what everyone wants me to be.” 

Your sister shook her head frantically, scooching closer. “That’s not what I want, nena. You are one of my favorite people in the world. I don’t want you to be me, I want you to be you.” 

“But I’m not good enough, Ale. Not for anyone. Being me isn’t good enough.” You cried, pulling your hand away from Alexia’s. You couldn’t even begin to consider that she was telling the truth. 

“Yes it is, nena, and I am so sorry if I have made you feel like-” 

“If? Alexia you have spent the past 2 years of my life pressuring me to be better, telling me to try harder and to push more. And so has everyone else.” 

Your sister shook her head again, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into her, even as you tried to pull away. “I am so sorry, nena. So sorry. I thought you wanted it, as much as I wanted it for you.” 

“I did want it.” You mumbled. “But I wanted you to just be my sister more.” 

Alexia felt her heart shatter, but she fought against the tears welling in her eyes. “I am so sorry.” She repeated, shutting her eyes tightly as she rubbed your back. “ I… If you want to quit, I will support you. I won’t be disappointed in you, I will always support you. No matter what you do or don’t do, I will always be your sister. And you will always have me.” 

“No, Ale, I don’t know that I want to quit, I just… I can’t do it anymore. Not like this. It’s too hard.” You sobbed, hiding your face in your sister’s shirt. 

“Okay. Okay, cariño. We’ll figure it out, alright? We’ll figure it all out.” Alexia promised. 

You hoped she was right. 

--------

Therapy later that day was… alright. You broke down again, detailing your near constant anxiety and stress, and admitting to Ana that you’d bought adderall. You don’t quite remember what you said, honestly. It was a blur. You remembered crying, remembered holding Alexia’s hand. Explaining to her that you were so obsessed with school because you wanted to have something if football didn’t work. You never wanted to disappoint your family, Alexia most of all. Alexia had cried too. You remembered what she said clearly, and even now, three weeks later, you thought of her words.  

“Hermanita, I don’t care if you are a footballer. I don’t care if you get a degree or get an impressive job. I don’t care what you do, as long as you are happy and healthy and okay. That is all that matters to me. And that is all that matters to Mami and Alba, too. I love you, nena. That is not conditional or dependent on anything.” 

And she had proven that. She had been patient, kind, and thoughtful. Supportive. Even when you took three weeks off of football and school to get your anxiety under control. She was there through every sleepless night and every tear. Alexia was the reason you got through it, and she was the reason you made the decision you did. 

-------

You’d waited a bit to tell her. You were always going to finish the season out with Barça, but it remained to be seen whether or not you’d continue after the season ended. Alexia had prepared herself for you not to continue. For you to tell her that this was it. She’d made her peace with that. She was wholly surprised, then, when you sat her down two nights before you were set to go back to training and told her your plans. 

“I’m dropping out of school.” You said carefully, watching her reaction. She looked stunned. 

“But I thought… you don’t have to do that for me, nena. I just want you to be happy.” 

The thing was, you believed her. And that was why you wanted to play again. 

“I know you do, Ale. I’m doing this for me. I love football. I’ve missed it these past few weeks, much more than I missed school. I didn’t really care about school, I just wanted to have something. If I couldn’t make you proud of me with football, I thought I could do it through school.” 

“I am proud of you. So proud of you, because of football and completely separate from it.” Alexia insisted. 

You nodded. “I know you are, and that’s why I want to play again. It doesn’t feel the same as before, like your love for me is riding on how well I perform. That wasn’t ever the case, and I know that now. You’ve made it really clear, Ale.” 

“But your anxiety,”

“I was having a hard time because I was trying to do school full time and football. I’m already so much less stressed. The pressure feels less intense. It feels like football can be fun again.”

“You are sure about this?” Alexia asked, gripping tightly onto your hand. She didn't want a repeat of three weeks ago. And she didn’t want you to be unhappy. 

“I promise, I’m sure. I want to play. And if that changes… I’ll tell you. I know I can trust you. I should have known that all along, and I didn’t, but I do now.” 

“You can always trust me.” Alexia affirmed. “You are sure? You want to play?” She checked again, looking intently at your face, trying to tell if you were lying to make her happy. 

“I want to play.” You promised. 

Her neutral face transformed into a huge grin and she all but suffocated you in a bear hug. 

“I love you so much, hermanita. And I would have understood if you wanted to quit, but I love playing with you and I am so, so happy.” She told you, rather vulnerably. “I’m going to be better. I am going to make sure no one puts too much pressure on you, especially me. I won’t mess up again, nena, I promise. I won’t ever let you think that I care more about football than about you.” 

You buried your face in her shoulder, sniffling slightly. “I love you too.” 

It wasn’t just about missing football. It was about knowing, really really knowing, that your performance wouldn’t change how your sister looked at you, or how your teammates looked at you. You’d spent the last three weeks learning from Ana to see yourself as a person separate from your abilities on the pitch. You were good and worthy of love no matter how you played. And with that weight off your shoulders, you knew you wouldn’t care as much about being in Alexia’s shadow. You could just be proud of her. And be proud of yourself. You hadn’t needed school the way you thought you did, and you hadn’t needed to quit football. You had just needed to be honest with your sister, and be a bit kinder to yourself. 

The following season, you would play better than you ever had. You found your place on the pitch and within the team, and you set yourself aside as your own person. Even if you were known as a great footballer, you would still always be known as Alexia’s sister. And you didn’t want to change that, because it was your favorite thing to be. 

--------

hope you enjoyed! ❤️ leave a comment if you want, they make me v happy! :)

#woso imagine #woso x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #woso one shot #woso fanfics #alexia putellas x reader #platonic reader #putellas!reader

[hiddenlife-manager]

i dont know if you do driver x driver x reader, if you do then maybe oscar x logan x reader? if you dont then just logan x reader is good. i dont really have a good idea for smut but if youre up for it there could be some oral sex, choking, possessiveness, and degradation? ima gonna be honest its been a hot minute since ive read your smut so id theres something in my request youre not comfortable with, my apologies!

Logan Sargeant X Reader X Oscar Piastri

cw... anal, double penetration, not edited, cumshot, kissing with cum, hair pulling, slight dom, slight hinting to the two of them being into each other, gagging, blow job, oral, jealousy, timeskip, plot and porn, etc...

notepad... HIYA! Second post of the day. Honestly speaking I enjoyed this. But i probably could have spent more time on it. Either way I had fun.

There were only a few things Logan Sargeant had that Oscar Piastri didn’t. He hated to admit it, but it was true that Oscar was the better rookie and the better driver. He had things that Logan didn't, but he had one thing—the only thing Oscar couldn’t have and wanted more than anything. He had you. You were his trophy, the girl the two of them fought for in the Perma days. There was no hate between the two of them, still being the closest of friends, but Oscar could never help but be filled with jealousy each time he saw you with Logan. He was the better match for you, yet you chose Logan. 

It was the Miami Grand Prix; you were there supporting Logan after a disappointing week. Oscar certainly had a bad week, but compared to Logan, it was a hundred times better. He couldn’t help looking at you talking to Logan, walking hand in hand. He wanted what Logan had; it was selfish; you were happy; his friend was happy; he knew it was wrong. 

“Hey Oscar!” He heard Logan's voice call him out, it stunned him. He looked up, seeing him walk up with you. You waved to him, clearly unaware of his feelings.

“Oscar, you look great; how long has it been?” You asked, letting go of Logan's hand, hugging the tall man. Leaving him confused for a moment, he slowly raised his arms to hug you back. It had been sometimes since he felt your touch that all the feelings he felt became stronger than ever. 

“Likewise, are you two still together?” He asked if it was true that you were never in the media and were also never posted about. You nodded. Logan grabbed her hand and pulled her away. 

“Stronger than ever. Oscar, do you want to join us for dinner at my place? Like before, this time at my own home.” Logan asked him rather quickly. Oscar was unsure of how to respond. After spending an entire night with you and Logann being in love, It sounded like hell, yet he missed you, the sound of your laughs, or the way you talked. It was a tough decision; it felt like hours passed while the two waited for his answer. 

“Like old times.” 

“Ah~” You mumbled your head back, your legs being pushed while Logan’s mouth sucked at your clit. How did Oscar get here? Watching his friend eat out the girl he wanted. He could have left, but he stayed. Your moans sound so sweet, like honey to him. He watched Logan suck your clit almost as if he were making out with your pussy. You were clearly close to orgasming, your words becoming less coherent. He heard the low voice of Logan. 

“You’re our guest, Oscar; I know you want to.” Logan stood up, looking at him with your juices on his lips. Logan knew him too well. Oscar walked over to you and him. Logan sighed, seeing your panting face cumming just by his mouth. “You are my friend, but do know I am possessive of her. Don’t leave a mark on her Oscar, or I might not be able to forgive you for it.” 

Oscar nodded; it seemed like all that Logan told him went through one ear and out the other. Logan sighed, climbing on the bed right behind you, hauling your panting body up. He used his chest to support your back, putting you right at the edge of the bed for Oscar. His other hands spread your legs wide. 

“You want me to?” Logan rolled his eyes, taking one hand away from you and tossing a condom for Oscar to catch. He hated it because he was acting so inexperienced in front of you. He held the condom, opening it while pulling his cock out and putting the protection on properly. 

“Pick a hole, ass or pussy?” 

“I know you, Logan; you pick.” Logan smiled upon hearing Oscar say such a thing. He was caressing your cheek, flipping you over, and having you on all four. 

“I say surprise her. You dreamed of this, so do what you want for once.” Oscar knew Logan's kind heart was nothing but excited to have control over him. Logan pulled out his cock, pumping it a few times. "Besides, I have her mouth.” He shoved his cock into your mouth suddenly. Oscar began to hear the lewd sounds of your muffled gags. He groaned while doing it. He shoved his cock up your ass. It was so tight, and you were so unprepared. “You picked her ass. I’ve been training her, so she’ll be fine.” 

Logan gently placed his hands on your head, playing with your hair; cooing at you. Oscar could tell he truly cared for you. No matter what, even face-fucking you, he had a hint of gentleness. Oscar held onto your hips, bouncing you back and forth on his cock. Causing moans to be heard that were muffled by Logan's cock in your mouth. Logan thrust deep into your mouth, gagging echo into the large room. 

“Can I grab her hair?” Logan smirked, nodding to him. Oscar's hand went to your hair, pulling it back, causing a small pop when your lips left Logan's cock. Logan used the opportunity of shock from you to shove his cock once more into your beautiful mouth. Logan and Oscar found themselves moaning, both enjoying the view of you being used. Clearly, they both enjoyed it; their relationship has been a bit rocky since Logan got with you, and this was a good way to get them to fix it. 

You, on the other hand, didn’t mind it; you were being fucked in two holes and forced into a moaning mess. You loved it even when your hands got weak. They began to shake, feeling like you were about to orgasm. You knew Logan was close, his cock twitching in your mouth and his thrust being deeper than normal, making you gag even louder than before. You weren’t sure how Oscar orgasmed and were unsure if he was close or not, yet the sounds of his whimpering from how good your ass felt told you all you needed. 

The abuse of your ass and mouth continued until Logan thrust so deep it made you gag that you had to pull away while he came. Oscar grabbed your hair tightly, your mouth open, and Logan once more shoved his cock in your mouth, making you milk him dry. You were gasping for air, trying to moan, cum flowing out of your lips, unable to hold yourself up. Oscar fucked you faster; you knew he was enjoying it, but it became overwhelming for him. 

That was until he pulled you back by your hair so tight that he sat you up and came into your ass deep, filling his condom up. Leaving you moaning loudly at the feeling of his cock getting soft slowly. You were still covered in cum. Logan leaned down to you, kissing you deeply, not caring about the cum clearly on your lips. Oscar is still deep inside you; his cock is so deep that it feels better than any woman he has been with.

“We can do this again, Oscar.” Logan and Oscar were both naked, watching your sleeping body. You went right to sleep after they helped clean you up. 

“I missed you too, Logan.” They turned to each other and shook hands, firmly embracing each other in a quick hug.

#fanfic #x reader #oneshot #formula one x reader #f1 smut #fanfcition #formula one smut #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri smut #logan sargeant smut #logan sargent x reader #mclaren f1 #mclaren x reader #williams racing #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 smut #oscar x Logan #Logan sargeant x Oscar Piastri

[ingravinoveritas]

I've been seeing posts about some replies from AL on Twitter tonight, and wanted to share some of my thoughts. For those who might've missed it, Anna replied to the below thread--not once, but twice--despite not being tagged or mentioned anywhere in it:

The fanart above is based on an Ineffable Husbands AU fic that is currently published on AO3 and has nothing to do with Michael other than using his face for the character, which makes AL randomly leaving those inane comments an obvious bid for attention, as she would've had to be stalking fan accounts to find that tweet. To make matters worse, however, someone in the comments on one of the replies sent her a link to the fanfic in question. Particularly egregious is the fact that the person who sent the link was not the author, and the author is now (quite understandably) pissed off and upset about this.

I know there have been multiple discussions about this in the past, but apparently it needs to be repeated: It is absolutely NOT acceptable to send fanfic to creators/creator-barely-adjacent people, especially without the author's knowledge or permission.

Yes, we know Michael enjoys GO fanfic. Yes, we know he has read and likely written GO fanfic and probably RPF. That still does not make it okay to send him fics--at all, for any reason, but most significantly because if anyone knows where/how to find fics if he wants to read them, it's Michael. Also worth noting is that Anna is not Michael. Anna could dislike or be entirely disgusted by GO fanfic or AUs...in which case she could have commented on the photo edit as a way of making fun of it, thereby potentially setting the creator up for ridicule and/or harassment.

It's also distressing to see people in the comments on Twitter encouraging this behavior/cheering AL on while seemingly not caring one jot about the actual creator's feelings (especially when I know that several of the comments are fan artists themselves). I had honestly thought fans knew better than that by now, but it seems not, and to say that all of this is infuriating is an understatement...

EDIT: It's been brought to my attention that it was the person who created the Professor Fell AU/made the photo edits who was upset at Anna's comments, not the fic author (who linked their own fic, rather than someone else's). My apologies for any confusion...

#good omens #michael sheen #welsh seduction machine #i can't even with this nonsense #fandom woes #fanfic #why do people do this #i don't think AL particularly gives one shit about fanfic tbh #but i could see her making fun of it #also the original thread AL replied to mentions Crowley having a *vibrator* in his ass #which is just a tad awkward #but i will leave it to my followers to make up their own minds #anna lundberg #thoughts #discourse

[blissfullsvn]

between the lines

academic rivals!taesan x reader, 1.3k, fluff

warnings: reader is sick, reader calls taesan a prick, he is kinda a prick (but fluff triumphs all 🙏)

a/n: it's necessary for their dynamic but no actual rivalry is emphasized here... (for my fellow academic rivals-to-lovers enthusiasts... ill cook up sth soon)

masterlist

taesan is flustered.

you and taesan had never really had an amicable relationship. to put it into perspective, you'd rather spend hours editing the mess of a report your equally-messy groupmates wrote, than spend hours working together with han taesan—the student well-known for submitting flawless and only flawless pieces of work.

it wasn't always like this. of course it wasn't. who in their right mind would prefer to add 'babysitting adults' onto their plate that's already filled to the brim, instead of making their life easier by grouping with an academic weapon?

but working with han taesan is not for everyone.

actually, scratch that. working with han taesan is not for you.

you don't know what you did, but you're almost 100% sure he has a personal vendetta against you. for such a pretty face, his mouth only spits out the nastiest of things, at least to you.

actually, scratch that again. han taesan only does that to you.

because you shared all the core modules with him, you had foolishly decided to group up with him for all the assignments you had in your first semester of university. to put it simply, that was probably the worst decision you’d made in your life.

why? for every idea you gave, he'd step over with another. for every suggestion you offered, he'd pinpoint every aspect to shut it down. sure, he may have had better ideas, but you didn't think it was necessary to stomp at your input so readily. you definitely didn't think it was necessary to smirk like he'd won a battle after every instance.

you thought you'd be able to escape his belittling remarks and irritating smugness after that one semester, but why did he have to share the same plans as you as well? the day you stepped into the student council office and saw him sitting in the seat next to yours, you already felt dread clawing at you.

fast forward to the present, you're both running for student president for the next year. you had already lost the role of vice president to him this year, so you're determined to not let him pick at you again. not that he could even if he wanted to, because you practically transform into an iron shield whenever he enters your vision (which is more times than you'd liked, considering you share the same environment with him everywhere. he seems to enjoy this, though).

you've been preparing diligently for your student president pitch, but that's also on top of having 5 tight assignment deadlines and planning the biannual festival happening in the next month. for the past weeks, the student council office had turned into your place to work, eat, and even sleep, though the last was never intentional.

today, again, you're sitting at your desk, your laptop opened in front of you, but it’s unlike usual—a cup of hot-turned-lukewarm tea next to you, a pile of tissues scattered around the table, an oversized hoodie draped over your frame, your sniffles echoing across the empty room, and your body which felt heavier than usual.

you've tried your hardest fighting the urge to fall asleep, the dimness of the room not helping, but when the clock struck 3, you decide to give yourself mercy and lean forward, resting your head on your arms over the table. it's far from comfortable; your back is aching, your neck is sore, your nose is uncooperative, and the screech of the door is hurting your head.

you open your eyes briefly at the intruder by the door. they're frozen for a beat, as if surprised to see you there, then they’re tilting their head in what seems to be confusion. soon, they're taking small steps towards you. you should be alarmed, but your defenses have shut down from the fatigue, so all you can think is that if you die, you hope you die a climactic death.

the intruder, thankfully, does not appear to have any intent of killing you. they are, however, intent on disturbing you.

“y/n?” there's a soft tap on your shoulder. you squint, trying to decipher the blurry face in front of you before deciding against it. your act of protest comes out as a small whine that unintentionally escapes the back of your dry throat.

the figure stands there in shock, hand hovering your back. they blink a few times, as if trying to register what they just heard, before they decide to squat next to you, patting your shoulder again.

“y/n? don't sleep here.” the voice is familiar, but uncharacteristically soft. and fond. why is it fond?

you open your eyes again. seeing han taesan mere inches away from your face is something you'd never expect, but you're too tired to even be shocked. instead, you blink slowly, as if you're a newborn reacting to stimuli you've never experienced before.

“han taesan,” you mumble against your arm. your voice comes out nasally from your cold and as a result, more whiny than usual.

“y–yes?” he ignores the stutter and moves his hand to brush away the strands of hair covering your face. it comes so naturally that he freezes when he realises and quickly pulls his hand back to himself.

“prick.” you shut your eyes as you say this, missing the widening of his eyes. “annoying.”

he frowns, “i'm annoying?”

“very.” you don't miss a beat to reply. “why do i have to see you everywhere . . . .” you trail off, your voice decreasing in volume as you speak.

taesan is silent for a few moments, during which the only sounds that can be heard are the tick-tock of the clock and the whirs of the air conditioner. he takes one glance at your hoodie and the tissues around you before promptly turning off the AC.

“fine,” he huffs as he stands up. “i’ll be annoying for a bit more.” he taps your shoulder again. “go home. you can't sleep here. it's so late.”

the deprivation of sleep is getting to you, because your immediate response to him is to let out another whine that would immediately shatter your image of the cool senior and president-to-be if anyone heard you.

which, of course, brings us back to the first line.

taesan is flustered.

he's never seen you this… babyish before. ever since the first semester, all you would entertain him with were glares, furrowed eyebrows, and the occasional roll of your eyes if you were really salty. you had never been this defenseless around him, to which he feels something tug at his chest.

he stretches his lips into a line and squats down again. “what do you want me to do then?” his voice is soft. too soft. “i’m not letting you sleep overnight here.”

you slowly open your eyes, sniffling as you look at him in disbelief. “if you're not willing to carry me home, just go.” you shut your eyes again.

it's silent once again. at this, you dig your face deeper into your arms, having zero expectations. you furrow your eyebrows slightly when you hear shuffles above you, followed by the clash of stationeries, the crackle of the plastic bag used as your trash bin, the sudden cease of the whirring of your laptop fan, and finally the sound of a zipper.

you open your eyes in time to see taesan cupping your face in one hand and pulling your arm with the other to make you sit up. you let yourself be handled without evident resistance, though your confusion is blatant. once he sees that you're up, he quickly squats down in front of you, back facing you.

“climb up. this annoying prick will carry you home.”

a/n: this may or may not be insanely self-indulgent due to a cold i may or may not have. i also may or may not have thoughts about a pt. 2.

anw, first post! just fitting for it to be about han taesan bcs this man (read: bnd as a whole) has been living in my brain for the past month (case in point: me literally writing this note at 3am when my headache is killing me).

i hope this was as enjoyable to read as it was for me to write <3

© blissfullsvn 2024. All Rights Reserved.

#boynextdoor #han taesan #taesan #taesan x reader #bnd #han dongmin #dongmin #boynextdoor fluff #fluff #boynextdoor x reader #kpop #boynextdoor fic #myung jaehyun #park sungho #lee riwoo #leehan #kim donghyun #kim woonhak #jaehyun #featured #sungho #riwoo #woonhak #boynextdoor imagines #taesan imagines #boynextdoor timestamps #boynextdoor scenarios #boynextdoor drabbles #taesan drabbles #taesan scenarios

[catsvkis]

this adds a new layer of angst to "so izuku, can i still catch up to you?" because even on the brink of death he was still thinking of their little chase and catch game, he was already letting go of that future with him.

that's why he was so happy when he was revived. he was so thankful for the second chance. YES he can catch up, he'll surpass izuku and izuku will catch up and they can still chase each other and that future is so near he can feel it. they can still do this! only to have to let it go again because izuku is quirkless again, because he wasted so much time in the past being a terrible friend and he lost his chance. he could've had this with him the entire time, but he ruined it for himself.

edit: oh my god the TCB translation gives me brain damage....he thinks of the way he treated him when he was quirkless and thinks there's NO WAY izuku forgives him now. how can izuku lay there and be content and smile at him? their quirks gave them a more even ground with each other, he knows how to help him. he was going to do it right this time. he thought he had more time to make it up for him this way. damn.

edit 2: man i keep wanting to add to this LMKSJDJDJ i noticed the panels on the bottom left i think can also be interpreted as him realizing that having that quirk finally made izuku feel confident enough to stand up to him, with him. even though izuku had always loved heroes and wished he could be like them (katsuki), he never really believed he can actually do it until after all might gave him the quirk. as cursed as ofa was, it made all of this possible. it conveniently opened a way for his dreams to come true. and although we know that katsuki thinks izuku has always been a hero, it will get a lot harder to get there and he's heartbroken for him and he doesn't know if izuku even still thinks he can be one anymore. and he probably blames himself for ever making izuku doubt himself (that's why kacchan telling him that he's a hero nonetheless is sooo important ugh i wanna delete everything they're sooo....).

#bkdk #bakudeku #mha spoilers #bnha spoilers #mha 424 #UGHHHHH #idek what im saying #yap city

[justauthoring]

and i wonder... who? [3]

somehow, you find yourself torn between the two hottest guys at your school and you have no idea who to choose. loosely based off of operation: true love where geto is eunhyeuk and gojo is dohwa :)

a/n: operation true love is back and im back with this series :)))))))) (also apologies if you asked to be tagged and you're not tagged in this post, im sure im missing a few... just message me or comment on this if you still want to be tagged!)

pairing: geto suguru x f!reader, gojo satoru x f!reader

tag list: @username23345 - @anxious-chick - @novacaneformybrain - @mandysfanfics - @rottmntrulesall - @voiceofnoreturn - @rh-tg1 - @ky0mybeloved - @black-swan-blog27 - @ladytamayolover - @the8ate - @maybe-a-bi-witch - @dudalo100 - @reese-is-right - @6lonely-town6 - @its-a-dam-blue-brick - @kimi01985 - @dorusken - @siimp4youu let me know if you'd like to be added! please make sure your settings allow you to be tagged! (also tags show up when i edit but don't when i post??? if anyone knows how to fix this let me know)

you can find the masterlist here!

You could not believe your eyes.

The second you’d read that text, you’d convinced yourself you’d imagined it; blinking rapidly, rubbing at your eyes, even pinching yourself because there was just no way he’d actually texted you. Even if it was from an unknown number, it was clear who it was – seconds after bumping into him, him rudely blaming you and then calling you by that god-awful nickname, you get a text right after?

With the same nickname?

Yeah, it was clear who it was.

The past two days alone have been more than confusing. If it wasn’t Sukuna cheating on you, it was Geto suddenly acting like he cared about you even though for as long as you’ve known him, he’s done nothing but ignore you. And if he wasn’t ignoring you, he was glaring at you; giving you those eyes that made it clear what he thought of you. You were oblivious and you weren’t as dumb as you came across, it had been abundantly clear to you that Geto didn’t like you and even more, he probably thought you were pathetic.

And now? Now you had Gojo Satoru texting you? And why? Because you’d accidentally bumped into him in the hall? When, really, if anyone bothered to ask you, you’d guarantee it had been him who’d walked right into you – couldn’t a guy see when a girl was upset and needed a moment to herself?

Clearly, Gojo couldn���t.

The worst part was that Sukuna cheating on you seemed like the least shocking thing and that in of itself just seemed so cruel. It wasn’t like you weren’t aware – Sukuna treated you horribly. Sure, you were positive that at one point he really truly had liked you and maybe there was a way to get him to again, but that didn’t erase the fact that for the past few months he’s been nothing short of terrible to you. 

Dismissive of you, blatantly ignoring you, you can’t count on one hand how many times he’s laughed with his friends at you when you’ve wanted nothing more than him to defend you or at the very least comfort you.

So, yeah… him cheating on you? Wasn’t all that surprising. And you’re still not really sure how to feel about that.

Your mind is a jumbled mess throughout the entirety of class that you barely pay attention. When the teacher calls for lunch, you’re blinking yourself out of your stupor, jumping in your seat as everyone around you excitedly packs up their things. You probably look like an idiot sitting there watching everyone, stunned, face red when you realize you did not listen to a single thing your teacher was saying, until a hand falls on your arm.

Your eyes meet Shoko’s concerned ones.

“Y/N?”

You feel a buzz from your phone in your back pocket and the stupor is quickly replaced by anger.

There’s no way I’m letting him get away with calling me ‘sweet cheeks’.

You push yourself to a sudden stand, startling Shoko who lets out a tiny shriek in response, head jerking back to avoid being smacked by yours. Then, you’re grabbing your backpack and promptly turning around, making your way towards the door with a determined expression.

All while Shoko gapes at you; “Y-Y/N?!”

You’ll apologize later but you don’t have time to answer her distressed call. The second you’re outside the class, you’re pulling your phone from your pocket, glowering as you read the text.

Ignoring me? :(((

“Jerk,” you mumble to yourself, fingers moving quickly to reply.

Where are you?

And the reply comes almost instantly.

Why? Already missing me?

Jesus. What an egotistical guy.

Shaking your head, you focus on replying.

Just tell me where you are.

Your finger taps impatiently on the side of the phone while you wait.

In the hall outside the cafeteria.

The second you read those words, you start walking. Students eye you weirdly as you walk by, sending you confused looks and mumbling to each other in wonder of what your problem is; you’re not even aware that you’re practically stomping through the halls, footsteps echoing with each step you take. It only takes you three minutes before you spot Gojo, easily identifying him by his bright white-hair that sticks out like a sore thumb against all the blacks and browns.

He’s already looking in your direction the second you turn down the hall, and your glare darkens on the smirk on his face.

The second you reach him, you go to tell him off, but he cuts in before you can;

“Not gonna lose your footing this time because of how dashing I am?”

And his words are so shocking to you that you completely lose your train of thought, blinking as your lips part in disbelief and you gape up at him with your mouth left wide open. Gojo lets out a loud laugh in response to that, head thrown back in amusement as you feel your face burn.

“Wh-What!” You practically cry, “you’re the one who bumped into me! And I didn’t fall because of how you looked! I fell because you slammed into me!”

Raising a brow, Gojo simply crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the wall, the smirk on his face never faltering.

You huff; “you’re infuriating.”

He snorts; “I've been told.”

Shaking your head, you focus on the reason why you wanted to see him in the first place. “How exactly did you even get my number, by the way?” You ask, holding your phone up for emphasis as you tilt your head at him accusingly. “And I want a real answer.”

Shuffling on his feet, Gojo shrugs; “just asked someone from my class. Some girl.”

Pausing, you sigh; “people need to learn not to just give my number out to anyone,” you mumble to yourself, annoyed. Gojo watches you with a raised brow and amused glance, enjoying the way your face twists expressively while you talk to yourself.

Then, your eyes focus back on his. You try not to lose your train of thought when you remember just how blue they are. 

“Whatever,” you brush off, lowering your hand. “Just don’t call me ‘sweet cheeks’ and don’t text me either.”

“But why else would I have got your number?” Gojo asks, the question is genuine.

You just stare up at him. “Fine. Don’t text me unless you need something,” you concede before lowering your gaze. Your voice lowers and Gojo smiles as you start mumbling to yourself once more, moving to pocket your phone away. “Although, I don’t know why you would need to text me in the first place since—”

You halt at the feeling of a hand around your wrist, stopping you from putting your phone away as you stare up at Gojo in disbelief, lips left parted. He doesn’t bother to explain, simply using his other hand to pull your phone from your grasp and turn it towards him. You watch him with a stunned expression, mind not working quick enough to even ask him what he’s doing because all you can focus on is the way his fingers had felt against the skin of your wrist. His grip was so gentle, even if it had been enough to halt your movements, and his fingers were smooth and long.

The touch had sent shivers down your spine.

“There,” Gojo calls, smiling brightly as he turns your phone screen towards you. It takes you a moment, blinking, before you realize what he’d done.

He’d added himself as a contact, naming himself; Satoru <3

First name too?!?!

“That way you always know it’s me.” 

You flush, body jerking as you snatch your phone from his grasp, shaking your head. “Wh-what! Don’t…! Don’t just add a heart next to your name like that!”

“Why not?” Gojo asks, face in a pout as he genuinely asks you like he doesn’t understand. Your frazzled movements halt when you realize, arms falling to your sides with a huff before his pout is fading and being replaced by another shit-eating grin. You watch as Gojo goes to grab his own phone from his coat pocket, opening it and tapping at a few things before turning it to show you again.

There you see the both of yours short message threads before your eyes wander higher and then you see that he’s added you as a contact on his phone as well.

And….

Sweet Cheeks <3

That was it. You were confident. You’re going to kill him.

You feel hot and you know you probably look like a mess, wide eyed and lips parted once more as you turn to look at Gojo. Of course, he’s smiling–because why wouldn’t he be–and looks completely unbothered by it all. In fact, you’d reckon he even looks proud of himself.

But yet, when your lips part to argue, you find no words to say. You know you’re embarrassed, a little peeved at the annoying pet name, but you think about the way his hand had felt on you and the way that despite how he was too cocky for his own good, you liked the thought of having him as contact in your phone.

Even if that was the name he’d given himself.

Even if that was the name he’d given you. 

And even if there was a heart next to both of your names.

Shoulders falling, you submit; “fine,” you huff. “But just don’t think this means—”

“Y/N.”

You halt, instantly recognizing that voice.

You miss the way Gojo’s eyes zone in on your reaction, shoulders tensing and the expression on your face turning just slightly afraid as you let the words you’d been about to say disappear. The air suddenly grows tense, or maybe you’re imagining it–you’re not sure–but you feel your body stiffly moving to turn, meeting Sukuna’s eyes from across the hall.

His brows furrow when he meets your gaze, eyes hardening at the sight of Gojo behind you.

“What’re you doing talking to Gojo?”

You freeze, and you realize somewhere distant you should say something, but you don’t know what.

Then, an arm falls around your shoulder and a weight is pressed against your back.

“We were exchanging numbers,” Gojo calls out with a singing voice, lips stretched into that familiar wide grin. Though, and you think you might be imagining it, you swear it seems a bit more tight and forced than it had before. “Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

You don’t miss the way he calls you by your first name.

Sukuna doesn’t either.

“Uh… y-yeah,” you force out, letting out an airy laugh that sounds more like a cough than anything. 

Sukuna’s face hardens, but the anger in his eyes is passing. With a simple shake of his head, he brushes off your words, before focusing back on meeting your gaze; “come on, Y/N. Let’s have lunch together.”

Oh.

Oh.

That’s right.

Maybe he will again. 

You’d been trying to win back Sukuna. Sukuna, your boyfriend. The boyfriend that had cheated on you with a girl who has had it out for you since middle school… Sukuna, whose hands have never felt as warm as the way Gojo’s had against yours just a few minutes ago; nor as soft, nor have they ever made you feel the way Gojo’s had.

“You should break up with him.”

Eyes squeezing shut, you force yourself to block out Geto’s words.

No, this was just silly. You’d already decided – you were going to win back Sukuna and that was that. Geto’s words didn’t matter and neither did Gojo’s hands; it was all just silly distractions you’d let yourself sink into because of your hurt.

You wanted to be with Sukuna and you wanted to win his feelings back.

And here he was inviting you for lunch. You’d be stupid to pass up the opportunity.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you nod, gently shrugging Gojo’s arm off of your shoulder and taking a step forward. “Okay,” you call out sweetly, smiling at Sukuna, it strengthens the second you see Sukuna instantly ease at your agreement. 

You offer Gojo a smile over your shoulder as you make your way to Sukuna, ignoring the frown on his face as you wave.

Then, you beam up at Sukuna.

He glances at Gojo behind you for a moment longer, before meeting your eyes. You try to make sure you don’t smile too wide or obnoxiously, trying to make sure you look pretty, head tilted as you bat your lashes at him and reach for his hand.

Reluctantly, Sukuna slips his hand into your own, not bothering to return your smile as he leads you into the cafeteria.

-

You watch Sukuna and Mei Mei with a barely concealed frown. 

When Sukuna had first invited you out, you’d thought he meant a date. You’d practically squealed of excitement in your bedroom, kicking your feet before hurriedly getting ready. You’d done your hair, made sure your makeup looked flawless, and dressed exactly how you knew Sukuna liked you to dress. The two of you hadn’t been on a date just the two of you in a long time, and the last time you’d tried… well. It hadn’t ended the way you thought you would.

Operation get Sukuna to fall for Y/N again seemed like it was going well if Sukuna was inviting you out for a date and you knew tonight was the perfect opportunity to up your charm and flirting to remind Sukuna why he’d asked you out in the first place.

Then, you’d shown up at the arcade only to see Sukuna already there with Mei Mei, Mahito and a few of his other friends.

And quickly, you realized your plan was already starting to be a complete and utter failure.

With nothing more than a simple ‘hey’, Sukuna had barely acknowledged your presence nor had he tried to hang with you at all since you’d arrived. You’d been here for an hour and the most attention you got from anyone was Mahito when he’d asked you if you’d watch his stuff for him; you believe his exact words had been ‘if you’re going to sit there like a loser all night, can you at least be helpful and watch my stuff?’.

So that’s what you’d done.

Honestly, you were impressed you were as collected as you were. You knew you should’ve just left, but the small hope that maybe Sukuna would notice you kept you there even as it got harder and harder not to cry. You didn’t want to seem like more of a loser though, so you forced the tears back; trying to ignore the racing thoughts that ran through your mind as you sat there, all dolled up for a guy who didn’t care about you at all.

You were starting to think you’d been wrong all along and maybe he never had.

Were you that undesirable? You’d thought you were a good girlfriend… you’d tried not to be too clingy, even if Sukuna said otherwise and you’d always tried to help him and support him in anything he needed. You tried to wear the things he liked and get into the stuff he was interested in. You went to every one of his games and cheered him on every time. And yet, he’d only ever seemed annoyed at everything you did.

Maybe you were that undesirable.

Maybe you’d never realized just how annoying and insufferable you really were.

Biting your lip, you decide that that’s all you can take for one night and if you don’t leave now, you’re going to cry in the middle of this arcade and that’ll only fuel your embarrassment more.

With one more longing look Sukuna’s way, to which you’re ignored again, you move to stand, grabbing your purse and pulling it over your shoulder as you move to walk away.

Except, the second you turn, you bump aggressively into someone and something cold pours over you.

Your lips part, eyes widening as you realize that it’s some sort of soda, most likely coke, that is now seeping into your blouse and sticking to your skin. Gasping, you glance up to see who you bumped into since it’s clearly becoming a habit of yours, only for your embarrassment to deepen the second you meet a familiar pair of dark eyes.

Geto Suguru stands in front of you, looking just as shocked as you. In his hands is an empty cup, the lid now on the ground by your feet.

You stare at him for a moment before you hear laughter.

It’s loud and piercing. Body stilling and muscles tensing, you glance over your shoulder only to see Sukuna, Mahito, Mei Mei and the rest of his friends all laughing at you. Mahito’s got a hand pressed to his stomach as he doubles over in laughter, the look in Mei Mei’s eyes is nothing short of cruel and when you finally turn to Sukuna, you feel like your heart breaks a little.

Even though you’re not surprised.

Of course he’d laugh at you.

You can’t stand to see the look on Geto’s face, already knowing what he must be thinking, as you quickly shove your way past him. Your feet work quickly to make your way out of the arcade, not hearing the sound of your name being called as you feel your eyes finally well up with the tears you’ve desperately tried to hold back all day. 

The second you’re out of the arcade, it all becomes too much. 

You don’t care at that moment that you’re no more covered than you would’ve been inside the arcade; it’s better than crying in front of Sukuna and… and Geto. 

Pressing your hands to your face, the reality of everything catches up to you and a sob pulls past your lips as your shoulders shake. You’re cold, sticky, you’re pretty sure your blouse is now see through thanks to the soda that had spilled all over you and you’re standing outside an arcade crying because of your boyfriend who cheated on you.

Everything was just so cruel.

You stand there for a moment more, lost in your own world you don’t hear the ding of the arcade doors open behind you or the footsteps that follow. It isn’t until something warm falls around your shoulders do you finally look up, turning your head to the right and blinking at the sight of Geto’s concerned eyes staring back at you. 

“Are you okay?” He asks gently, voice soft in the mix of silence and your sniffles. “I didn’t mean to spill my drink all over you like that.”

Swallowing thickly, you brush the tears on your cheeks, confused; “wh-what?”

“You ran out so quick,” he continues on, moving in front of you to grab the hoodie he’d draped around you and pull it tighter around you in the front. You watch as his hands reach for your own, taking your arms and tugging them through the sleeves of the hoodie before zipping it up until it hits the bottom of your chin. “I’m sorry I ruined your shirt.”

You’re stunned. Confused. You hadn’t expected him to run out after you nor did you expect sympathy. Sure, you didn’t know Geto that well, but you didn’t expect him to apologize for spilling his soda on you, especially when you bumped into him, nor did you expect him to give you his hoodie to cover and warm yourself up.

You stare back at him blankly.

Geto frowns at the tears in your eyes. “Ignore them. They’re idiots.”

He’s gesturing behind you at the arcade — to Sukuna and the rest of them.

You don’t glance back. You don’t want to see them still laughing.

“Why… why are you here?” You ask, voice small.

“I was babysitting,” he explains, “but their parents picked them up just before I bumped into you. I was… actually going to talk to you when you stood up suddenly.”

Oh. So that’s why he’d been right behind you.

“I’m sorry I bumped into you,” you mumble, selfishly enjoying the warmth his hoodie gives as you hug yourself. “And split your drink.”

Geto shakes his head. “You’re the one that got covered in it.”

And oddly, the comment makes you smile. You’re not sure why–maybe you’re losing your mind–but the way he says it so nonchalantly pulls a smile to your lips and a snot-filled giggle that is anything but attractive and you’re too upset to even care. 

Geto just laughs at himself; “you think it’s funny my drink spilled all over you?”

Meeting his eyes, you shrug; “I dunno.” Then, faltering, you glance at your feet. “I didn’t before. But maybe a little now.”

“Well… good,” Geto shrugs. “It was a little funny if I’m being honest.”

And the smile on his face tells you he’s just joking.

“Shut up,” you laugh.

An air of silence falls over the two of you then, and you shuffle on your feet.

“I’m gonna go home now,” you point to your left, the direction you’ll be walking. “I’ll wash and return your hoodie on Monday. Th… Thank you for giving it to me.” And you smile warmly, wanting him to know just how much you appreciate the favour.

Geto’s smile fades as he blinks down at you.

You offer a small wave and move to walk, but then a hand catches your arm.

Surprised, you glance back at Geto.

“I’ll walk you,” he offers.

Your eyes widen. “Oh! You… you don’t have to—”

“It’s okay,” he assures, somewhat urgently. “I don’t mind.”

“Okay…” you say slowly, not seeing the point in arguing. Besides, not walking home alone in the dark seemed like the better option anyway and if he was offering… still, why was he offering? “But… why?”

“Because,” he shrugs once more. And he hesitates and your heart twists because you don’t know if you can handle the answer if it’s because he feels pity for you.

And then he just smiles and it’s soft and gentle and it takes your breath away as you stare up at him.

“It’s late.”

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #getou suguru x reader #getou suguru #satosugu #satosugu x reader #operation: true love #otl

[akkszqii]

katsuki bakugo scenario!!

content: fem!reader, reader has a quirk, jealous katsuki, stablished relationship. just a fun scenario lol

you and katsuki both attend the hero class at UA, and the thing is: your quirks are totally the opposite, he got sparks and you’ve got water, so usually you’re both going against each other at fights —which he loves—, it’s always mesmerizing to watch you two fight, it gets everybody on their nerves because it’s so hard to know who’s going to win this time. you, with such elegant and gracious movements, yet that doesn’t make your attacks any less fatal. or him, with all his aggressiveness and determination.

so, katsuki loves sparring time at training, but lately it’s different.

the pros got everybody on teams, and regularly that’s okay with him —he’s beating anybody up anyway—, and like i said, you’re both usually against each other, so what’s different?

you’re with stupid kaminari.

and now all these stupid extras (including the pros) have been gushing about how well you both compliment each other, so they keep pairing you up in teams. you both make such a duo you now got new attacks… together. you make that dumbass fucker kaminari look cool and strong, and you spend more time with him. he doesn’t care if it’s “just talking about new strategy and movements” or whatever you said.

“now, y/n!” he heard through the speaker as he saw your beautiful face through the screen. you were such a natural at this, using your quirk as if it was as easy as blinking, just with a movement of your hand you used the water kaminari electrified and paralyzed the opposite team, victory was yours. well and kaminari’s too.

“awesome!” he said and you both did a… handshake?

he tuned out the voices of his classmates yapping about the same shit. he doesn’t get what the big deal is, yes water and electricity, whatever, it’s not even that impressive, you think his explosions are cooler. kaminari’s just leeching off your power ‘cause by himself he would just cook his brain. and why the fuck they keep assigning team training?

“…kaminari and y/n make a great couple”

his eye twitched.

[…]

there he laid on his bed at his dorm room, it’s an unusual calm day. there’s no exams close by, he wasn’t assigned any hero work by his agency, a rare complete day off.

he would be excited about it if you were there too, but your agency had other plans and assigned you a mission. not a big deal you said, just some patrolling and paperwork probably, they just needed extra hand. katsuki completely trusts your strength and habilites, so he just kissed you goodbye and told you to rush it. occasionally you send a selfie of whatever you’re doing or maybe you just message him i miss u:(. (he’ll reply go back to work even if he misses you too)

he’s scrolling through his phone watching whatever, he’s not really paying any attention. some cooking recipes he could try out, math tips and-

“what the fuck?” it’s the universe working against him or why is he seeing a damned edit of you with kaminari of all people? yes, he does occasionally like pictures and videos your fan-pages post, but this? he never agreed to watch this, if fact, he’s very against it.

the short video’s on loop, he keeps watching how it’s edited in such a way you both do in fact look very close. you’re giving each other sneaky peeks and get along too well, smiling and laughing with each other, working together, wait are you doing hero work together? there’s some clips of you both giving quicks interviews together after winning against some villains.

his stomach’s trembling as he scrolls trough all the comments supporting your relationship, talking about you and him being the perfect pair, that your dynamic’s so good, some people are totally convinced y’all dating and there’s even more edits. he can’t believe his eyes, and can’t believe how stupid everyone is. why wasn’t he aware of this bullshit going on? (he never checks social media, if he does he just likes stuff about you).

@katmighht commented:

y’all sick n stupid if u like this shit, just making up stuff get a fuckin life bruh

#katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugo scenarios #bakugou katsuki #bnha #mha #katsuki.love #denki kaminari #bnha fanfiction #boku no hero academia

[sootchild]

Kipperlilly not being redeemed kind of makes sense to me. She voluntarily took on the rage stuff and probably killed/helped kill the rest of her party. Yes she was "influenced" by Porter but we really don't know much about their relationship, she could have gone to him about it first and the bad kids just never found that out. If anyone deserved a second chance it was Jace since he was killed and brought back with the rage stuff. Also atonement only brings someone back to their original alignment so if Kipperlilly was already evil she would have stayed evil.

I didn't realize about Atonement working that way... It still would have been a good use. Just to then prove that Kipperlilly is just straight up evil.

I am not angry about how it went for her but I do think she'd be a fun villain to bring back and redeem (or try) like Aelwyn. Some villains have that pizzazz and she has it. I think though the issue is that The Bad Kids didn't want to extend that forgiveness to her but like they are teens, they were super stressed, and Kipperlilly tried to help destroy the world.

I would like to know what actually happened to Jace. It wasn't mentioned if he went through the same ritual that Kipperlilly did but I think it was implied?

EDIT: I have been informed that Jace was forcibly made to join. I assume then that he was resurrected as Ankara said she brought back everyone corrupted. HEY! Does that mean Connor Counterspell is alive or is he you think, lost to time and space?

#answer #fhjy spoilers #kipperlilly copperkettle

[thepupperino]

Yeah yeah groomzilla Mickey is funny

AND

Tonight I'm thinking about Mickey's character development and growth and how he even got to that point.

Do you think tiny Mickey even thought getting married was an option for him? When he realized he liked boys the way he was supposed to like girls? Do you think he thought he'd be alone?

And then he's forced to marry Svetlana and he says it's just a piece of paper. I go back and forth all the time about if he really thought that or if it was a defense mechanism or a rationalization or whatever you want to call it. Because he's in love with a boy and he's marrying a woman and as far as he knows then, that's how things are always going to be.

And then he comes out for that boy and tells him he loves him. And he says, "Thick and thin, good times, bad, sickness, health, all that shit," and of course he remembers those vows from his wedding but maybe those words could actually mean something with someone like Ian.

And when Ian mocks him for it? When he says, "You gonna marry me? We gonna go down to the courthouse in some tuxes like a couple old queens?" What do you think that feels like, to have someone you’ve risked literally everything for throw that back at you?

Note: I am not mad at Ian for this because he was going through it to say the least so please do not think I'm attacking him for this.

Then of course there’s the whole season 10 arc with the courthouse and Byron and my thoughts on that are probably a separate issue but I will say this: he probably thinks it’s really happening. He’s been in love with Ian Gallagher for going on 10 years and they’re at the courthouse and they’re getting legally married, then that falls through, and Mickey says, “You’re just saying you don’t love me enough now.” (And again, Ian’s got his own stuff and I’m not mad at him for this either.) But he’s given his all for this man and Ian won’t even call it an engagement ring or wear it on his finger.

Someone else made a post recently about Mickey’s insecurity in their relationship (if you find it before me please remind me who it was!!! EDIT: it was @zutaralesbian) and they’re right! Obviously the man has hope and love but WOW do you think he ever felt like Ian didn’t love him as much? In the season 6 prison visit or with the parole hearing or outside Byron’s little loft?

SO I want Mickey to think about the guest list and the soloist and the stargazer lilies and those gold Chiavari chairs with the white cushions because like he said, this is his fucking wedding day and he gets to have that with the man he loves.

#i have a lot of feelings #i don't even know if this is coherent but i don't care #mickey milkovich #(ian gallagher) #gallavich #shameless

[sansa286]

Political Reasons to Support Either Team (Season 2 Edition)

Let's say you're a Westerosi citizen, noble or smallfolk, and the Dance of the Dragons has started. We'll pick up right where season 1 ends and season 2 begins. This will focus solely on the political side of things and will not bring into account outside factors like character analysis; while yes, we the audience know Aemond killing Luke was an accident, the average person in Westeros does not, and likely never will. This is about what a Westerosi citizen might be thinking, not why an audience member might side with one team over the other. I put "Season 2 Edition" because this is bound to change as the series progresses and I may have to update as the war escalates.

We're going to start with Team Green as they currently hold King's Landing and, sanctioned or not, on purpose or not, with Luke's death, they're the one's who've officially called for war.

1.) Precedent is Maintained

With Aegon being named king, the precedent that men and boys come before women and girls in succession is maintained. Notice I said precedent and not law, as we've seen numerous times, including in the time period House of the Dragon takes place in, that notion can and does get challenged. But it's still something widely accepted. If you're a the first son, then you will more than likely be Team Green because if Rhaenyra takes the throne, then that means the older sister(s) you have could pose a real threat to what you believe is truly yours. So, in a way, not only is the precedent maintained, so is stability in the realm, as quarreling and attempted usurpations between sisters and brothers won't be normalized.

2.) Cultural Significance

While King's Landing is the capitol of Westeros, Oldtown is the largest city in and home to two of some of the most important cultural institutions in the country: the Faith of the Seven with the Starry Sept and the Citadel. Aegon is not only half-Hightower from his mother, the previous Queen Consort, but he also has a member of House Hightower as his Hand on his Small Council. House Hightower's support actually means a lot in this scenario because they themselves are one of the most influential houses in Westeros at this time. They're an ancient house, have maintained their status, respect, and wealth. They've also been involved with the royal family for some time. This connection to a cultural hub in Westeros will also impress the smallfolk, who may view Team Green as more "relatable" due to their Reach connections. Alicent donning Faith of the Seven jewelry and placing symbols of it throughout the castle is not just simply a show of faith, but also a way to signal to the other lords and ladies "hey, I'm like you."

3.) Well-Seasoned Politicians

The people that currently sit on Aegon's council are mostly well-seasoned and well-known politicians who've helped Viserys rule over a relatively peaceful period in Westeros; these familiar faces will be seen as a symbol for the continued prosperity Westeros can have under Aegon as he is surrounded by good advisors. In contrast to Rhaenyra, who will probably not keep her father's old Small Council (as they plotted her downfall for a decade plus) and thus things will be unsure, however, you can rest assured Daemon will surely be sitting at that table. From a nobleman standpoint this will make you uneasy, as you don't trust Daemon, who's made it a point to make a lot of enemies.

Now let's move on to Team Black, who currently have the ball in their court.

1.) Active and Experienced Leader

Rhaenyra sat on her father's Small Council for over a decade and ruled Dragonstone, the seat of the heir, for about six years with virtually no hiccups. And in that time, she birthed several children. Simply put: she's shown her dedication to the craft of learning to rule and engaging with it. Aegon does not have that reputation at all. Rhaenyra had rumors surrounding the paternity of her children, but to someone who values good leadership from the person in charge and not just their Small Council, Rhaenyra is clearly the way to go.

2.) Male Primogeniture Has Run Its Course (into the ground)

Say you're one of the several women in Westeros who currently holds a land and title, and you're sick of being challenged by your male family members, some being quite obscure, for your birthright. Say you're a lord with only daughters and would like your house to continue through one of them over your brother, nephew or cousin without any detractors or the potential of one of your daughters getting attacked once you've died. Perhaps you have really a crappy son(s) and a well-rounded older daughter(s) who show better potential for ruling well and you'd just simply prefer absolute primogeniture for the sake of your house. While there is no guarantee that Rhaenyra will implement this policy universally, if you try to go against the grain and name a woman or girl as your heir, you will have a reference point from the highest seat of power in the country.

3.) Respecting Wishes

Let's be honest: no one has an actual reason to believe Alicent when she said Viserys wanted Aegon to be the heir right before he died. While she definitely believes that, and while the audience knows that Viserys never intended for Aegon to be king, even in context, it sounds like a lie and no one, not even people on Team Green, believe her. If people playing on her team don't believe her, why would anyone else? For over twenty years, Viserys maintained that he wanted Rhaenyra as his heir, never waivered, and had witnesses both in the court session and at the following dinner affirm his decision to keep her as his heir. Put it simply: if you're someone with any sort of power, this would be quite concerning. If the king cannot have his wishes honored even in death, then what's stopping someone from doing the same to you?

BONUS: Neither/Both

If you're a member of the smallfolk, you'll be screwed over by war regardless of who wins. Crops will get burned, towns raided, family murdered and assaulted etc... The succession aspect doesn't matter to you, because you nor your family will ever have an ancestral seat, so what do you care? Hoping for a peaceful resolution between the family or not giving a damn about either is a more than sensible stance to take.

If you're a member of the nobility, playing it safe by waiting out the war and accepting whoever wins or only claiming a side when there's a clear winner is also a viable option. You nor any of your family or armies have to risk their lives in battle, and you'll keep your land. But, you might get a reputation for being a fence-sitter and get perpetually side-eyed by whoever the ruling monarch ends up being.

#house of the dragon #hotd #team black #team green #westeros #asoiaf #fire & blood #hotd season 2 #analysis #in-universe meta #if that's even a thing

[miss-musings]

Evaluating the Bad Batch members by BoyDad vs. GirlDad-ness

Wanted to take a quick look at how well I think each Bad Batch brother would do as a BoyDad versus as a GirlDad. These are just my opinions. Feel free to share your own thoughts!

Hunter: 50-50

Obviously, he's Omega's dad, so he gets major GirlDad points there, but I could see him being just as good of a BoyDad. Like, if Omega had been a boy, he would've done just as good of a job, if not better.

He seemed to bond with the cadets well enough in 3.02 "Paths Unknown." Plus, he's probably the closest thing his brothers had to a dad for ... well, pretty much their whole lives. He probably felt like a dad trying to keep up with Wrecker's energy and pyromania, Crosshair's brooding and snarky attitude, and Tech's ... Tech-ness.

(EDIT: Also @lemariz reminded me that Hunter’s Dad Instincts kicked in pretty naturally when he was talking to Caleb in 1.01 “Aftermath.” I really think he would’ve done just as good of a job at being a BoyDad. And, again, he basically was for his brothers.)

I imagine that, post-finale, Hunter keeps a close eye on the cadets. Maybe he even becomes their de facto guardian too until they reach biological adulthood in a few years.

But, obviously, raising Omega would remain his priority.

Wrecker: 75% BoyDad, 25% GirlDad

I really think Wrecker would be a better BoyDad. Or at least, that he would take to being a BoyDad more naturally.

Not that he couldn't be a GirlDad, but like he does with Omega, I think he would be more comfortable doing more boy-coded or at least unisex-coded activities. He would definitely enjoy playing tag or any other games, doing other physical activities like swimming and building sandcastles, and generally just running around having fun.

I don't know how he would do with like, playing with dolls, dressing up, doing hair and/or nails, etc. I don't think he would be lacking in enthusiasm, but he would definitely be more comfortable playing rough-and-tumble games and whatnot.

I also wonder how he would handle Omega hitting puberty. Suddenly the kid he played with is gone, and now he's got this moody teenage girl to deal with. (I honestly don't think Omega would be that moody of a teenager, but I'm sure there would be some ups and downs the whole family would have to navigate.)

I honestly think post-finale Wrecker would spend a lot of time with the cadets while they're still "kids," and be a big brother/mentor to them as he is to Omega.

He seemed to bond with them very quickly in 3.02, and since Hunter and Crosshair will be focused on Omega, Wrecker might feel like he should take on the job of looking after the cadets. Maybe he would even become their de facto guardian, that way Hunter can spend more time with Omega.

Crosshair: 100% GirlDad

Let's be real, fam. Crosshair would not do well as a BoyDad.

He is 100% GirlDad material.

I'm sure that if Crosshair ever had a biological son or if he officially adopted a boy, that he would love him. But, I really can't see Crosshair throwing himself into the Star Wars equivalent of Hot Wheels or wrestling, the way he would absolutely throw himself into things like braiding Omega's hair or listening to the Star Wars equivalent of Taylor Swift with her.

Heck, even if Omega wasn't in the picture for some reason, I bet he'd do better at raising a biological daughter than a biological son. I don’t think he would take to being a BoyDad at all — like it definitely would not come naturally to him.

I really can't explain why, aside from telling you that Crosshair's personality and character arc remind me a lot of my own dad, who's 100% a GirlDad. I'm his only biological child, but judging by his relationships with my stepsiblings when we were all kids, my dad never really took up the BoyDad mantle for my stepbrother. He was 100% a GirlDad for me and, to a much smaller degree, my stepsister.

So, I imagine Crosshair would be the exact same way.

I'm sure post-finale Crosshair can tolerate spending time with the cadets. Heck, he might even like them in small doses. But, if Hunter ever asked him, "Would you rather spend the day with the cadets or Omega?", you know Crosshair would respond, "What kind of stupid question is that?"

Echo: 90% BoyMom, 10% GirlMom

Because the fandom has officially declared Echo a mom (lol), I'm saying Echo is a BoyMom by default.

The guy has spent 99% of his life dealing with his brothers' bullshit, saving their asses from danger and asking them if they packed a lunch before going off on dangerous missions.

I don't think he was a bad "mom" to Omega before he joined Rex's clone underground, but even post-finale, I can't really see him readily doing "girly" things with/for her the way I imagine Hunter and Crosshair would.

By the way, I think post-finale Echo would basically be Omega's "godmother." Someone who's like a parent, and can step into that role if needed, but who isn't around all the time. He's an extended family member by this point, but he would definitely be the first person the Batch would call if something happened.

Tech: ???

I honestly have no idea about Tech. He doesn't really strike me as either BoyDad or GirlDad material.

I always saw his relationship with Omega as an uncle-turned-big brother. He definitely cared about her, but he never really connected with her until 2.10 "The Crossing." After that, I think they were much closer, but they didn't get to develop that bond much more because he died shortly after. 🫠😭

I really see Tech as more of a teacher/professor than a parent. And if he was a professor, I have no doubt he could successfully teach students of any gender, or general demographic.

But, feel free to disagree with me. I like Tech, but there are plenty of fans who love him more than I do, and might have their own thoughts.

As I said: I welcome friendly debate and discussion on any or all of these points! 😇

#omega and crosshair #tbb omega #tbb spoilers #tbb season 3 #the bad batch crosshair #tbb crosshair #the bad batch #star wars #sw tbb #bad batch #tbb #clone force 99 #tbb s3 #tbb hunter #tbb wrecker #tbb echo #tbb headcanons #hunter tbb #omega the bad batch #the bad batch wrecker #clone trooper wrecker #wrecker tbb #wrecker the bad batch #wrecker bad batch #crosshair tbb #arc trooper echo #bad batch echo #crosshair #omega #wrecker

[fereldanwench]

⚠️ do not reupload or edit my shots without my permission ⚠️

At the beginning of 2023, I started working on this story set following Valerie and Goro doing a gig for Wako. The premise is that Goro and Valerie are looking into an unsanctioned Tyger Claw weapon manufacturer trying to cut Wako out of a deal and they have to find proof of that betrayal, but shit kinda goes badly when the place goes boom. And of course, there was supposed to be plenty of bonding and banter between the blorbos.

Unfortunately, for a variety of reasons, I never got around to finishing it. -_-

Mostly thanks to technical issues: this era was pre-custom poses (well, widely available custom poses + public knowledge of how to make them) and before I had started using PMU, but right after AMM updated to give us the ability to select poses right from the menu. I wanted so badly to make the new pose function work with my process because it seemed like it should have been easier (raise your hand if you remember the dark days of having to reload the game pretty much every time you wanted to change an NPC pose!!!), but the way characters would reset the pose anytime you moved them made it really time-consuming and frustrating for me.

It was a very good learning experience, though, because a lot of the hiccups I dealt with here made it easier for me to do this big story set just a couple of months later.

By the time I was able to return to this one, I could not find my notes for the main beats and dialogue (still no idea what I did with them) and I was like, fine, whatever. My workflow and style had also evolved by that point. It was time to move on, haha. But I shot probably 85% of what I wanted to shoot for it, and not sharing it at all just kind of seemed like a waste. So under the cut are 40 panels of Goro and Valerie being badasses and starting to fall for each other. Enjoy!

#goro takemura #takemura goro #takemura x v #cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077edit #cp2077 screenshots #cyberpunk 2077 photomode #cyberpunk 2077 v #cyberpunk 2077 oc #female v #fem v #c: goro takemura #oc: valerie v powell #ship: goro x valerie #g: cyberpunk 2077 #mine: edits #mine: stories

[alexanderwales]

Book Review: Metropolitan Man

[content warning: sexual violence]

It's been 10 years since I wrote Metropolitan Man, and last night I read it for the first time in almost that long. Since writing it, I've written over 4 million words, and hopefully, grown as a writer. I've also forgotten parts of the story, so was looking at it with as fresh of eyes as possible. These are my overall thoughts.

I should say, before I start, that I've read tons of comments and discussion on this story over the years. I don't know how many of these thoughts are my own, or how much I've internalized things that people have said.

Writing Style

There were lots of changes I thought about making while reading, but people hate change, and this story is about ten years past when I wanted to be making editing passes on it. In many places I kept thinking of little extras I would add, things that would make the dialogue pop a little more, or provide characterization. I had this idea for a line where I describe Lois typing out two letters like she was letting loose with both barrels of a shotgun. There's dialogue to clean just a bit more, a few places where words are repeated or something is just a bit awkward, and where it could have been tighter or more clear.

The biggest thing that stood out to me was how little time got spent on scene setting and how short some of the snippets were, just five paragraphs to get a scene across before we're onto the next thing. I might have webserial brainrot, but those are definitely places where today I would give a little more breathing room and maybe use the same amount of words to describe something in a more oblique and stronger way. One that stood out as a clear example was a private investigator going home with Jimmy Olsen even though she was done pumping him for information, which could have been twice as long and benefitted from it. Another was a brief little thing about a Superman spotter on the roof, where I'd now describe everything he was doing, and only get to the conclusion of "he was a Superman spotter" at the end of the section to let the reader have this mini mystery of what they're being shown and why.

I would describe things more if I was writing this today, trying to get those nicely tight and evocative descriptions and ditch the stuff like "she wore a white blouse", but I often feel that way about stuff that I'm revising from last week, so it's not surprising.

The plot is very tight, which is good. I tend to prefer my plots tight, but it takes work, and webserials aren't conducive to it because it's difficult to know when you're writing a scene whether it's really pulling its weight as far as moving things forward. The initial idea for MM was to move as cleanly as possible through a series of events: Superman -> Superman is invincible -> Superman is Clark Kent -> Clark Kent grew up in Smallville -> the ship is in Smallville -> the ship has a Kryptonite power source -> Kryptonite can kill Superman -> Superman is dead. The only thing that would make it any faster would be if we dropped the Lois Lane subplot, but that's like half the novel.

Superman is OOC

I've gotten tons and tons of comments on this story over the years. If I hated myself, I would go back through my email and count them up, but there are some death threats and "kill yourself"s in there, and I prefer not to reread them. The major thing that people hate is the ending, which I don't care to talk about, but the other major thing is that Superman isn't Superman.

In this, I largely agree, but then, I'm pretty sure I've always agreed. That said, Superman has had a ton of interpretations over the years, and there's a wide range of acceptable behavior from "a Superman", even if we're not counting the really out there variations like Red Son or some of the alternate timelines.

... but I still would probably make him more like a canon Superman if I had to do it all over.

There are a few things that raise red flags at the beginning, which is where I think they're inexpertly placed. Superman takes Lois off the roof and flies her around, making her very afraid, and this is fine, I think, a misunderstanding that might be stronger if we got his insight into what was happening before we got hers to help bridge some of the disconnect there and characterize them both better. But there's a little note after that, where Clark makes a joke about "Superman's girlfriend Lois Lane" that I think is a HUGE red flag, and which probably comes too early in the story. It would be better as a joke someone else made that Clark laughs along with, which raises the red flag to half mast.

The other major moment I would change is when the bombs start going off. Superman pulls back, unsure whether he's actually immune to mustard gas, and I think this is one of the moments that most goes against the character of Superman. Canon Superman would just say "welp, guess I gotta find out whether I'm immune to mustard gas in a hurry". Superman making the argument that he doesn't know the bounds of his powers and so should exercise caution reads as either cowardice or as him being way too bitten by the rationality bug.

This would then obviously have to change the plot of that section a bit, because in the novel as it stands right now, Superman is convinced by Lois Lane that he can't just sit on the sidelines for game theory reasons. Better to either scrap that section or have Lois convince Superman that for game theory reasons he should offer to have testing carried out against him in a way that doesn't harm civilians, which canon Superman might submit to if it saved lives. Then the rest of the plot can proceed as normal, because Superman is immune to everything and that's the whole plot beat anyway.

I'd definitely clean up some of Superman/Clark's dialogue to nail the character voice better, but I don't think it's that bad, and it's mostly a few places where the wording is off. I think in particular the points where he's feeling anger go too far, and are not how someone internally conflicted about the anger might talk.

And then, oh yeah, Superman punches a guy's head clean off, which I think is the biggest sticking point for most people.

I've thought about that scene a lot. I personally like it. But if I were ever trying to sell this story to DC, it's one of the things I would almost certainly change. Superman doesn't kill, except in that one movie that came out just before this story was published where Superman snapped a guy's neck.

The change I am most happy/comfortable with is that Whitman, the governor whose children were [REDACTED], is the one to kill Calhoun. This happens just outside the courthouse with Superman watching and not intervening in the slightest, or maybe catching the bullets as they go through Calhoun so no bypassers get hit.

I don't know, as I type it out, it doesn't have the same weight to it. It's not cool. It's not a watershed moment. Maybe there's a plot thread to pull there, where Superman has tacitly endorsed other vigilantes, and it would be a great time to pull in other mundane street-level heroes ... but that's an entirely different story at that point.

Another option is for Superman to simply fly off with Calhoun and put him away, but that lacks punch too, and gets talky, and ... it's about the rage, right? The feeling of injustice, not just at Calhoun, but at the entire world, and it's not just an unhappy side effect that there's blood everywhere, all over the clamoring press, that's part of the point.

Social Justice

I really enjoy how wide-ranging the novel is, and how many things it touches on. Good job me. There was a line I had completely forgotten about where Lois asks "Why doesn't Superman stop abortions?" that I had completely forgotten I had ever written, and which brought a big smile to my face (but no wonder some Superman fans hate this story).

There are a few other things that I raise my eyebrow at a little bit, at least sitting here in 2024. There's a particular line that Superman gives when talking about this whitewashed mural of the past they're walking by, and he says "It's easy to forget that slavery ever happened, you know?" Now, I will grant you that this is a part of a conversation where he's saying that maybe he should have been a better student of history, and is saying this as a white guy in 1934, but I wanted him or someone else to tear that statement apart. It never really happens.

"It's easy to forget that slavery ever happened [if you and your people have not been affected by slavery]". The novel takes place ~70 years after the end of the Civil War, which means that when Clark was growing up there would have been freed slaves who were in their fifties, probably many of them in Kansas, though Smallville is (notably) small. I don't know, it wouldn't have been historically accurate for them to have a discussion of privilege, but there's way more meat on that bone, and it's all left as subtext.

Also probably the case that if I were writing it now, I would pay more attention to race in general, but that I'm less sure on, because it would mean some major structural changes to be done well. There's a single black guy in the whole thing, who is barely a character and has no speaking lines: the farmhand Ma Kent has before he gets lured away with the promise of being an actor. I have never felt that any novel needs racial balance to it, but if you're going to be talking about slavery and whether Superman would have done anything about it, you start to make black people look like props, which is not a good look.

I mean look, I think it's fine for a given story to not actually take a stance on political issues or have a diverse cast, but this story goes from abortion to the Equal Rights Amendment to Prohibition to Nazis to the death penalty, and then despite being set in 1934 sort of talks around the subject of how shitty race relations were. As a white guy, I never feel comfortable talking about race, but I think it would have been appropriate to have here in more than the cursory way it was handled. But the cast is just not that large, and the way that modern Superman stories handle that is usually making Jimmy Olsen black and then not actually talking about the fact that he's black so it's just a palette swap, which I don't think would work here, especially since Jimmy is such a bit character, and also it's 1934.

Sexual Violence

Alright, I will say it: there's too much sexual violence.

Chapter 7 is when the two Whitman kids get kidnapped. Their driver gets his throat slit, the boy gets dismembered, and the girl gets raped. I knew it was coming and I was still horrified by it.

I would not remove this part. I would foreshadow it better with a few scenes with Calhoun, the brutes, etc., and I might change some of the details to be a bit less awful and gruesome, but I don't think I would remove it. There are a few core ideas here that I think all work:

The better class of criminal has left the city now, and all that are left are the worst of the worst, the people who will not respond to incentives or symbols or rational thought.

If you cannot strike at Superman's physical self, you strike at his mind instead, and one of the ways to do that is psychic damage. In Calhoun's case, this is irrational, a pure desire to hurt Superman in any way possible while his empire collapses.

The amount of evil in the world is enormous. The pain and suffering cannot be comprehended. I love what Superman says, that this isn't really unique, that these things happen to children all the time. He's upset about not being able to save them, but they're a drop in the bucket.

I think you have to be careful with sexual violence, whether it's depicted or hinted at or just briefly mentioned. There are tons of people who are not on board with that in their media, and even of those who are on board, it has to be handled carefully and can feel very cheap, as though you're just going to the worst and most transgressive thing you can think of for the shock value. People will see it as lazy and trivializing and making entertainment out of this horrible thing.

I think the world is shit. I think terrible things happen. I have always felt both oppressed by the weight of evil in the world and powerless to stop it. I think that's the thing that I'm gesturing at here, and it feels weird to me that sexual violence would get put on a pedestal as the one thing too horrible to mention, even though we're mentioning all the most horrible things.

How do Superman comics and shows and movies deal with this? My impression is that they don't. Surely Superman must be stopping rapes from happening, but I cannot think of a single time I've seen it happen. I'm actually having trouble thinking of a time it was implied to happen. I think this is probably a good idea on the part of the people who make these bits of media, but it's absolutely not realistic if you're thinking about how Superman would operate in the "real world". Sexual violence happens, child abuse happens, and I guess we just sort of assume that these things are dealt with by Superman off-screen.

Though ... I mean it impacts the characters, right? Does Superman not have a trauma response? Does he have a superpower where he can bottle it all up? He's definitely too late to stop certain crimes, and he definitely can't make things better for some of the victims, and I guess in the comics when he shows up to a burning building he generally has a 100% success rate and people come out with only minor injuries, but ... alright, this is definitely the sort of thing that led me to write this fic in the first place.

It's a question that the fic doesn't have an answer for: how do you go on living when you know that there's so much evil in the world?

I think dialing that particular scene back is, maybe, fine. But it's the sort of thing that would feel like I was being less authentic in a way, as though I wanted to grapple with the big questions but not that one, wanted to consider ethics and morality but silo myself away from things that actually are on my mind. I see the point of blunting that scene, and I rebel against it because I don't want to be blunted, I want to be sharp.

I would, however, remove a lot of the earlier references, or blunt those, because they didn't need to be sharp. There are, before the Whitman stuff, about five references to sexual violence, and maybe even just using "sexual violence" would be enough, rather than "rape". One of these references is to what crimes Superman is statistically most likely to stop, another is to a plot to besmirch his name, both can be massaged or they can go.

I don't know if I think about these things differently because time has passed or I've had a bunch of discussions about these issues, or whether it's just having the outside view. It's weird to think about what a conversation with myself would look like, if we were working on the story together.

Retrospective

I understand why Superman fans sometimes hate this story. There's the Superman OOC stuff, sure, but there are also a lot of questions about Superman that apply to canon equally well, and people hate that. Superman is a fantasy, maybe the ultimate comic book fantasy. He stops crimes and bullets bounce off him! You're not supposed to think about his stance on abortion rights. You're not supposed to look at the Clark Kent mask and say 'huh, that's strange'. I mean it's media, you can do whatever the hell you want, but if Superman is a fantasy, then there are a lot of questions that are fantasy-ruining.

I stand by the story as written about 80%, which is higher than I thought it would be, though there are certain things that I stand by more than others. There are certain structural changes and many line-by-line changes, and I'm glad that I didn't have the story open in edit mode, because it would have taken me three times as long to read and when I hit "save changes" people would grumble about archives or bad changes or whatever, because you can't please people.

About five years ago, I started writing A Common Sense Guide to Doing the Most Good, which was meant as a companion piece to MM. It ended up being all mechanics, no plot, and the plot that I wanted it to have was divorced from the center questions it wanted to answer. It didn't feel as grand, I guess, and the cats were out of their bags a little too quickly.

One of the Answers that MM gives is that the thing you should do in the face of overwhelming evil is to grind relentlessly, grind until your bones are scraping the grindstone and there's nothing left of yourself. The story does not believe this answer, but it's one of the places I ended up ten years ago, and am still sort of at now. The other answer is to live as best you can, be aware of the evil and do what you can against it without letting the idea of it (or the battle against it) consume your soul.

When I was finished reading, I kind of wanted to write an uncritical Superman comic. Something where Superman can be as his most loyal fans see him, someone who is Good and doesn't often have to grapple with what Good means, where the thorny edges of moral quandaries never come to light and the hero is always there in the nick of time. Where Clark Kent is a bold and noble expression of humanity rather than a deception and a mask. Maybe I will go do that.

#fanfic #metropolitan man #book review

[autisticrosewilson]

Todd Family Tree pt. 1

I know you guys have been waiting with baited breath for this (Read: no one but me and a handful of select mutuals care), but fret not because it's finally here.

Let's start with the side of Jason's family we know the most about, Willis's. A lot of things I'll have to say about Willis himself will be things I've said before with maybe some new additions, but a lot of the focus will be on his relationships with his family anyway so hopefully it won't get too repetitive.

Someone on my last Todd Family post commented that the Ma Gunn aspect may have been retconned, however I already integrated it into my personal canon so let's just keep going shall we?

Also shout-out to @perseus-jackass who let me ramble to them about all of this and helped me iron out some of the finer details!

The Todd/Gunn Family; Canon:

- Willis reportedly named Jason after his father, Jason Todd Sr.

- Faye Gunn II is the niece of Willis which implies Willis has at least one sibling that is never mentioned, although Faye was either raised by or very close to Ma

- Faye was named after Ma implying that whichever sibling she was raised by was close to Ma

- Assuming Gunn is her maiden name, or perhaps an alias, she didn't keep her husband's last name and Jason Sr. Is never mentioned, which could mean that they split or that he's dead

- Obviously from a meta textual stand point the reason Ma Gunn was never mentioned as Jason's grandmother is because it was a later retcon, but in universe this and Willis's choice to keep his father's last name implies he wasn't fond of his mother/was closer to his father

Sub note: The candidates for Jason's mother included Lady Shiva (I'll get into my thoughts on her in Part 3) and an Israeli woman. Edit: @ammomancer informed me that Jason was Spanish (Basque specifically) in the Bombshells continuity as well!

- Ma was implied to be from Australia, and likely taught there for a time.

- Ma implied that she had sons, and possibly that they're dead. (I have obviously disregarded this, but I'm not against the interpretation that one or both of the girls are trans.)

So my version of Jason is black/Asian/Latino! I think he's Japanese/Indian from his mom and black/Latino from Willis so keep that in mind.

Fleshing Them Out; My Expansion:

I'll start with Ma Gunn, since we see the most of her in the comics and she has the most groundwork laid for her already. Mostly I'd like to make her a little more complex.

She's proven to be a ruthlessly pragmatic character, but I don't see her being someone who does what she does for fun. She's someone who values control, someone who doesn't take perceived slights lightly. I imagine growing up a woman on Gotham's streets with so many relations to organized crime builds grit, spawns bitterness and hate. She seems like the type to value tradition - in the Gotham crime family way- this is how she was raised and the way she raised her own children. There is no changing the world they live in, only surviving it. I think she really wanted to teach her kids, both the ones she birthed and the ones she fosters, how to survive.

That's not to say she really cares though, I don't think she's close enough to anyone to really care, even if maybe in the early days of motherhood she wanted to be. She's a stone cold bitch and she's proud of it, she made her kids strong and look at the reputation it's given her. Ma Gunn's school for wayward boys isn't just for strays anymore, there are some big names dropping their brats off for training these days. Crime lord daycare. Truly, only in Gotham.

Jason Todd Sr. Is a non-character. We know basically nothing but his name and that his marriage failed, and he's probably very dead. Which may or may not be related to said failed marriage.

Do I think Ma hired a hit on her husband? I wouldn't put it past her. I think she'd get rid of anyone if they were dragging her or the family down.

We can assume he was close to Willis, and I like to think that Mr. Todd was the homemaker because I can't really imagine Ma staying home to tend the kids. It's more likely her version of family bonding was a bank heist. Willis may have very well learned to drive from high speed car chases.

I think it would be very funny if Mr. Todd is from some third or fourth rate crime family that's using a mechanic shop as a front but Mr. Todd was actually really interested in it so he got an engineering degree and had little to nothing to do with the actual crime side of things. Maybe his family married him off to make him someone else's problem and while the Gunn's aren't a notable crime family they have a lot of resources and a lot of contacts, not to mention the small army of feral children.

Ma thought she was getting a seasoned criminal to help fund her illicit activities but instead he's a stay at home dad who has turned their home into a board game because he insists on fixing it all himself (if you use the microwave the doorbell might ring and you need a screw driver to use the shower ect.)

A lot of the experiences I associate Jason having with Willis I imagine Willis had with Mr. Todd, doing homework together, working on cars in the garage, Willis definitely learned how to cook from Mr. Todd because I just don't think Ma can do better than hamburger helper and public school lunch.

For the sibling situation, and I have no real evidence canon has completely left the building with this one, but I think he has sisters. Middle child Willis and also boy who grew up with all sisters Willis is real to me for reasons I couldn't say.

Completely made both of them up, but this is my house I can do what I want.

I'll start with the oldest sister, who I've decided to call Celia. I think she's the closest to her mother, the one who took over after her. Probably a serious, studious kind of person, she grew up with more opportunities than Ma did so she probably had more schooling. I can definitely see Celia as someone who worked her ass off to bring home good grades to make her mom proud and always falling short because Ma didn't really value traditional education.

Her and Willis definitely clashed growing up, Willis never liked Ma but Celia idolized her. Where Ma's crude demeanor and distance drove Willis to acts of rebellion it made Celia even more desperate to please.

Although I'm sure Willis would deny it, I think it's still a sore spot to him that Celia's way kind of worked. Once she got old enough to really learn about the business Celia was great at it, Ma started coming around to the benefits of having someone better with the numbers and paperwork.

I think that even after Willis leaves he genuinely tries to keep in touch with everyone, I don't think he ever stops trying to reach out to Celia. I don't think he agrees with who she became even if he saw it coming, regardless of how much he doesn't like their mother (he'd never say he hates her) Celia is still the girl who put bandaids on his scraped knees and let him crawl into her bed when he had nightmares and he can't bring himself to cut contact with her.

Celia is nicer than Ma, more adept at caring for the kids and because of this she earns their trust more which ultimately makes them more loyal to the Gunn's. This is a purposeful tactic because although she does see the kids as her own she doesn't see anything wrong with manipulating them for her gain. They're family, and family always want to help each other.

Jason was not allowed to visit his auntie, and didn't even know his grandmother was still alive.

I don't think she'd have a husband or boyfriend, a romantic relationship would take too much attention away from her business and if there's one thing she learned from her mother it's that a man would only drag her down or try to control her.

Willis is, to the surprise of no one, is who I have the most to say about but I'll try to keep it brief. For all he gets a bad rep I think he's a family man at heart, I'm positive he always planned on kids even if he wasn't sure about settling down with anyone at first.

Mostly because his mom kept trying to arrange marriages which is how he ended up dating Sheila for a time...which obviously didn't work out. One could say he wasn't keen on a repeat performance after that fell apart.

Man whore I fear, Gotham's fourth most bisexual man. Where's that one post about the goon who causes a distraction for his boss by making out with the bank teller and his wife. That's literally him Willis Todd ghost wrote that post. I'll get more into his various relationships in Part 3.

This man was born to tell dad jokes and wear funky ties but he's forced to live a life of violence and crime. Because of poverty and generational trauma.

I think the most tragic part of Willis Todd is that he tried. He loved his wife and he loved Jason and he gave everything he had to providing for them so Jason wouldn't have to grow up like he did but it ended the same anyway. And he'd never be disappointed in Jason, although Jason thinks he would, because home knows his son and he knows Jason wouldn't do it unless he really thought he was helping people.

I know everyone holds the opinion that Catherine was the most serious about Jason's school but I argue it's Willis, Cathy taught Jason to love learning but Willis taught him the importance of it. I think Willis always got good grades but he never went to college because part of ditching his family was ditching their money and most of what he made went towards supporting himself.

I've named the youngest sister Joan, and I think it's important to define her relationships more than her personality for reasons I'll get into in a bit.

For continuity's and sake I'll say she was a pre-teen when Willis moved out at 18-19, which would give her a large gap between both Willis and Celia - who I imagine are maybe two or three years apart - age wise. So while Willis likely tried to take care of her, to influence her away from their mom and sister, I don't think he was super fond of being at home to begin with so I don't think he was around much and I think Mr. Todd died not long after she was born so she didn't really have the gentle hand that Wills did growing up.

This left her with little to rely on but Ma and Celia, it was a real rock and hard place. Ma is honest in her ruthlessness at least, but Celia uses her love as a tool for manipulation. I'm sure she grew up right beside the other kids at Ma's school.

So I think it's no wonder that when she found herself with a baby she had no clue how to take care of, it was very easy for her mom and sister to convince her to give the baby over. Easy for Joan to decide that her daughter was in better hands with Celia as her mother.

And then Joan...vanished. No note, no phone call, no body. Most suspect it was Ma who did it, even though the woman had her kids - former and present - rip the city apart looking for her. No one knows the full story, and no one knows Joan Gunn's whereabouts.

Well, no one except Willis Todd, not that anyone else knows that.

Faye Gunn II has a lot of potential. I think there's a chance for her to parallel Jason. They both grew up on the streets and both have affiliations with organized crime, but where Faye is comfortable perpetuating the cycle of violence expected of the Gunn women Jason spends every night busting his ass to make sure another kid never has to go through what he did.

I also think it would be fun if maybe Faye wasn't entirely human, y'know give her a little bit of meta gene as a treat. Beast Boy isn't using the name Changeling anymore and I've long subscribed to Gotham operating by faerie rules so maybe she can borrow it for a few issues.

I don't have many thoughts on her as is but I'd like to do more with her in the future!

This got really long and I'm certain it will only get longer with the next additions. The next part will focus on the Clemens/Johnson family! Catherine Todd lovers stay tuned for part 2. Remember that all of this is just how I view them based on the cookie crumbs we get about them in canon.

#dc #ma gunn #Jason Todd Sr. #Celia Gunn #Willis Todd #Joan Gunn #Faye Gunn II #Jason Todd #Todd Family Lore #oc posting #be warned because we know basically nothing about Cathy's family her part is going to be. mostly OC's

[rmd-writes]

Tag Game Tuesday Wednesday: 911 Lone Star Fandom Edition

Tagged by @liminalmemories21 and @freneticfloetry thanks, and good timing! You both caught me on my lunch break

When did you first start watching Lone Star? Who or what introduced you to the show?

I can't remember the exact timing, but I'm pretty sure I watched the first two seasons while s3 was airing and then caught up after - I wanted to start earlier but I had some issues finding a way to watch the show here!

My introduction to the show was via @three-drink-amy telling me to watch it (repeatedly), @clottedcreamfudge's judicious use of gifs from the show in the gc and a bunch of SC mutuals yelling about the gay howdy wee woo show on my dash every week.

Season 4 was the first season that I watched "live" which I did with @welcometololaland, both of us texting and screaming as we watched each episode together hours and hours after everyone else had.

Which season is your favorite?

Season 3, hands down. I don't know that they'll ever beat it?

Who is your favorite character? (Bonus: If you answered TK or Carlos, who is your favorite besides them?)

Other than Carlos and TK, I think it's Grace. I just adore the her energy and the way that she takes everything in her stride and even when things are hard, she's very practical about it. Also she doesn't take shit from anyone.

Top five episodes. Go!

I don't think I've ever tried to do this? I'm generally very bad at choosing, my SC fave ep list contains three episodes that I insist must be watched together so they only count as one ep hahahaha Anyway, in no particular order, and not necessarily by episode title or number because I can't be arsed looking them up:

Push, my beloved

3 x 13

the one with Lou

Bad Call

the Soulmates one

Bonus: the Marjan ep in s4 which was just so, so good

If you could pick any character to be given a "begins" episode, who would it be and what would that episode look like?

Either Nancy because we know nothing about her and I want to know, or Paul because I think he's had such an interesting journey.

What is a scenario or storyline that you would like to see in season 5?

I love @liminalmemories21's idea of a Halloween ep! It would be so fun!

We probably won't get it because of the shorter season, but I'd love more Lonestar-is-a-comedy-actually episodes like Red vs Blue and the (original) Lou arc.

More realistically, I'd love to see Carlos actually grappling with the consequences of his actions in s4 and also working through his grief and TK helping him do that. And I'd like to see an absence of Owen love interests.

What do you think is going on in this still?

I want it to be something silly like Lou 2 is lost in the loft and Carlos is Not Happy about it (the reason for TK's posture) and then he answers his phone in the middle of all of that, hence the facial expression. The phone call isn't that important, it's Owen asking Carlos for help on a side quest.

We all know about the elusive 5x05 spicy scene that has been teased, so what is your prediction for how it could possibly top 1x02?

I don't know about a prediction, but I'd love to see them getting distracted from getting ready in the morning. Carlos (in just his underwear) waking TK up with a kiss and TK pulling him back into bed for a good make out session and that turning into more. A very different vibe to 1x02 but hot nonetheless.

Where was the Tarlos honeymoon in your mind?

I think it was somewhere close to home - with the accelerated wedding timeline (lol) they didn't have time for a long trip for to somewhere far away, and by all accounts, travelling overseas wasn't on their radar anyway (see: TK's disbelief when Carlos says he wants to go to Tuscany). So a long weekend at a nice resort somewhere. Enzo paid for it as their wedding gift because he couldn't make it to the wedding when they moved the date up.

Shoutout one of your favorite fan creations.

Just one (1)? Impossible! This Rafa fan art by @ambiguouspenny made me actually say "oh fuck" the first time I saw it. I adore the way @whatsintheboxmh uses light in all of her fan art. I love @howtosingit's Carlos episode edits because they a) let me watch all of the Tarlos scenes on repeat (and before I actually get to the watch the episodes when they air because time zones), b) give me an easy way to check canon dialogue and c) make it easy to convince new people to watch the show when they sneak into my DMs and tell me that the number of Tarlos gifs I am putting on their dash is tempting them. @liminalmemories21's Knave-verse might be my favourite Tarlos AU, everything about it makes me swoon. Okay, cutting myself off now.

Tagging: @welcometololaland @howtosingit @three-drink-amy just so they know my earlier tags in this post were tags to do this and also @lightningboltreader @orchidscript

@danieljradcliffe @guardian-angle22 @reasonandfaithinharmony @alrightbuckaroo

@cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @nancys-braids @heartstringsduet and anyone else who wants to play 💖 PS. if ao3 user olympia2007 is here on tumblr, I'm tagging you too (and please come say hi)

#tag games

[alice1505]

I made the mistake of rewatching Sherlock because I never did finish it back in the day (I was -clenches fist- seething over the queerbaiting and rage quit after not fully watching episode 1 of s4) and I'm here to make my side hyperfixation (what year is this??? Who am I???) Tumblr's problem. The more I sit with s4, the less I like it 😂 There were pieces and elements I liked, but overall, it left a bad taste in my mouth. Forgive me if any or all if these points have been talked to death, I missed all the discourse and I'm hella late, but I need to flail and send my thoughts into the void because what even WAS that season? I can't believe I avoided it for years, got drawn in by a couple of tiktoks making fun (affectionately) of superwholock Era and That Scene about the fucking phone charger port, binged all of it, only to be left with..... that. Not nearly as disappointing or rage inducing as spn's ending but by God, did it leave a hole in me. So please ignore my rambling thoughts as I slap them down here for my own sanity.

• First and foremost, what - and I can't stress this enough - the fuck was UP with the assassination of John's entire character???? What was that??? Why????

• Related to that point - I can appreciate the angst point and potential it provides, as I'm reading many, many fics, but AYO WHY didn't anyone rip John an entire new one for that beat down he did on Sherlock????? Hello???? 911?????

• Tell me why everything felt so stilted and borderline icy. Like I get the high emotions and shit, but after a certain point... 😭 was there a falling out between Benedict and Martin that I'm not aware of? Did they just try to ungay everything so hard and were so pissed at the audience picking up everything THAT THEY PUT???? into this show and their interactions that they just hit the brakes hard enough to make everything feel weird???

• A lot of it felt weird. Off kilter a little. Forced in some places, toned down in others (and toned down where it shouldn't have been), a nod to ships but weirdly/hatefully??? Idk if that makes sense. Like the whole Sherlock and Molly phone call (I do not mean any hate to this ship, I really hope it doesn't come off this way. Not my cup of tea but you are valid). Why was Molly so upset BEFORE the call? Did I miss something? Also I don't personally think or feel she'd still have those feelings for him??? I??? I am bamboozled.

• to that whole point, Eurus was.... Hmm. Mmmm. She was. Something. (Confused derogatory)

• I like Mary as a character. I also hated her. (Definitely biased by my shipper trash ass self for johnlock, I'm sorry). Wtf were those messages, please. Edit: AND ANOTHER THING. John's reaction to Sherlock's death - awful, gut wrenching, beautiful, my heart breaks with and for him, utterly devasting. John's reaction to Mary's death - had me sitting there like🧍‍♀️(it was weird. so weird. awkward. w h y. (we know why, but also the acting choices were Something TM, in both cases! for different reasons!) i'm sorry i just can't get past my anger and put off-ness with mary, fun as she could be)

• why did mycroft and John switch roles 😭 pls. The last episode was just. So Much. The lackluster responses from John, to John, to Sherlock, between them, like.... hello???? Who are these people?? Help me. Moriarty saved me for a brief shining moment tho, God bless.

There's more I could spew, but that's what's sitting right at the top of my head. I guess all this just to say, if a show runner/writer really just fucking hates the audience they got (instead of the one they wanted), they probably shouldn't have fucking become a show runner/writer in the first place. Either hand it to someone who can actually handle it and listens, or fuck off. I will never understand when shows and plots and characters gets kamikaze'd because of a show runner being pissy and egotistical. Like ????? Grow up. Learn from Bryan Fuller and Hannibal or something.

Sorry for all the rambling, bless anyone who reads this and makes sense of it 😂

#sherlock #bbc sherlock #sherlock holmes #john watson #johnlock #season 4 #s4 #steven moffat #mark gatiss #yo wtf #rambling thoughts #ranting #rip me