#being accountable and held responsible for your choices works both ways

[boyczar]

please listen to Nina Simone’s cover of Isn’t It a Pity. please remember that we all are suffering from the human condition. we all have veils that are dulling our ability do what we came here to do: love each other. your neglectful or abusive parents, the trauma you’ve endured, the stresses of work, your lack of communication & emotional regulation skills that you were never taught, your complicated relationship with religion, your self doubt and insecurity instilled in you by emotionally immature people who didn’t know what they were talking about. all of it. you are so much more. we all are. we all reveal our shortcomings in this life, often. even those who have “done the work” still fall prey to the ways of society. they want us lonely and broken. you are easier to control this way. don’t give them what they want. don’t give yourself away, it’s all you have. you are love-able. you are able to love. you are accountable for your actions and responsible for how you enact them, when, and who to direct them toward. empower yourself.

#mine #having a lot of thoughts but far more feelings #good god if you aren’t changing then you are choosing #if you are self aware in the slightest about things you dislike and don’t change them #then you are CHOOSING misery #if you are not changing you are choosing #that sounds harsh or aggressive but it’s not! it’s so empowering #it’s so empowering to choose better and know that all the good in your life is because you put it there #being accountable and held responsible for your choices works both ways #it’s such a positive to know that you can simply choose to release all that negativity #i had a cold hard metallic rock in place of a heart for years and that pain gnawed at me since forever #i finally realized i can just chuck out the rock and start feeling with a real beating bleeding heart #so now i do #you can too #i love you. #no matter what #always have always will #i don’t close doors #i feel no need #i leave my light on #i leave my door open

[igotanidea]

Personal rhythm: Jason Todd x reader

Summary/request: Jason finding out that you've never slow danced before, and he goes out of his way to arrange a dance for just the two of you alone.

thank you @miraculous-panic ;)

***

„What do you mean never?”

‘Seriously Jason, it’s a five letter word. One of the most common used in English. With all the books on your account this is not the question you should be asking.”

***

It was a Saturday night.

Movie night.

Y/N and Jason facilely decided that after all week of working/vigilanting, some silly teenage drama to cool off and relax would be in place.

And that’s how they ended up watching „To all the boys I’ve loved before”.

Or rather - binging through the whole trilogy.

Or - in other words - giving commentary and laughing at every other silly, cliche scene.

And it was so good and so nice and so peaceful, finally not having a care in the world and just relaxing in each other’s company.

Any other guy would probably complain about the choice and force his way to Fast and furious or some Jason Statham action movie, but not Jason. Truthfully as long as they were both spread comfortably on the couch, his head on her lap, being treated with the most welcomed head scalp massage, he might have watched the Paw patrol or Dora the explorer and not say a word.

However-

All good things must come to an end.

After something around 4 hours they finally reached the prom scene. The choosing king and queen of the ball scene. And the slow dancing scene.

And that changed the serene atmosphere.

„Do you see that Y/N? Come on, this guy can’t even lead her properly. I swear if he was moving like that in a real life poor girl will have her feet trampled.”

„Guess they should have hired you for the scene.” Y/N laughed in response.

„Damn right they should have! After all you were the one to say I remind you of the guy who plays -- what was his name again?” Jason rolled on his back so he could stare up at his girlfriend.

‘PETER!” she laughed as if they didn’t hear that name like 100 times already

„Right! Right, Peter! Of course! Still think I’m way more handsome though-”

„Damn, you’re such a tease Todd!”

„You’re my girlfriend, you’re supposed to agree with me!” Jason sat up abruptly, turning her head back from him and towards the screen. „Now, watch it carefully and confirm my theory. He doesn’t know how to slow dance, does he?. Seriously, from a girl’s perspective. ‘’

„I --”

„Are you blind now?” Jason smirked at her indecisiveness.  

„Hey!” the punch on his arm did nothing to hurt him but was definitely a surprise

„Just admit it! Guys don’t dance like that! This is not the way a girl- a woman-- should be held!”

„How would I know?!” she finally exploded, her emotions pushed forward because of Jason’s obliviousness.

„What do you mean--?”

„I never slow danced!”

‘Never?” now that was shocking. Yes, they rarely dwelt in the past, especially the time frame in which Jason was absent, but how come he never knew about that?! shit, what else did she missed from the teenage/young adult years? And how the fudge he didn’t make it right yet?!

‘Do you want me to spell it out for you?” she rolled her eyes stopping the movie „N-E-V-E-R”

„you’re right it’s a five letter word. One of the most commonly used in English. But to me, in this context, it doesn’t make any sense.” he grabbed her hands pulling her forward to him and looking straight into her eyes, smirking. „That’s bullshit and I won’t be fooled.”

„You’re being fooled by not being fooled.”

„Huh?” damn that girl had some twisted logic on her. „the hell does that mean?”

„It means I’m telling the truth.” she blushed slightly despite her best effort to act cool. It was a bit embarrassing to admit to her boyfriend that she lacked in the experiences of youth.

„No shit!” he laughed

„This is not funny!”

„This is plenty funny!”

„Oh, like you slowed danced before!”

„I didn’t get to go to prom, cause as you might have noticed I’ve been dead at the time--’

„Like I could ever forget that.” she rolled her eyes in annoyance to cover up for the heartache she felt at the memory.

„- I did slow dance.”

„What now?! With who!? Cause definitely not with me!”

„Is someone jealous now?” Jason leaned forward

„You wish Todd!”

„Jealousy is a bad trait, you know. I’d advice you to stop it baby...”

„Or what?”

‘Or I might have to actually help you enrich your experience.”

„Oh really, and how --?”

That sentence was cut by a involuntary squeak as Jason pulled her to her feet, almost causing the girl to crash with his hard chest due to the force.

„Shit, sorry Y/N. Forgot how tiny and light you are.”

„I am--”

„Sh.” the tone of his voice and the gesture of putting his finger to her lips definitely couldn't stand opposition.  „don’t you dare saying another word, I forbid you. You are tiny and light. And now, I’m going to make you feel like a fragile princess in the arms of a handsome and brave prince.”

One of his hand found a way to her waist, the other to her shoulder blades, grabbing her firmly but delicately. For some crazy reason she actually did feel secure and loved in his hands. Like nothing wrong could happen as long as she was held like this.

As long as his eyes were focused solely on her.

And it was both terrifying and wonderful experience.

„You can touch me, you know. It’s not like you haven’t done it before....” Jason chuckled at the way her hands hung awkwardly by her sides

„You’re ruining the moment, dipshit!”

„You’re the one using invectives baby. Don’t get any silly ideas in your head. You’re not going anywhere. Not until you get that slow dance.”

‘I’m make-up-less and wearing sweatpants.”

„And you’re still the prettiest girl in the world ”

„We don’t have any music.” she objected almost causing Jason to groan.

„Here.” he grabbed her hand and put it to his heart „feel that rhythm?” she nodded „good. Very good. Now this is the only sound you should be focusing on. Cause it resounds for you. You hear me, Y/N?”

„I hear you....” she whispered

„It’s only for you, baby.”

„i thought you weren’t romantic....” his grip on her tightened as he pulled her closer to him, swaying gently right and left, their feet barely moving, but it was still considered slow-dancing for them.

„I’m not. But I can be for you....” he muttered against her hair, planting a gentle kiss on the top of her head „You even made me dance, which is enough of a sign that I’ll do anything for you. I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

„Can you just be yourself? The guy I fell for?”

„I suppose that can be arranged.” he smiled, even though she couldn’t see it with her face pressed to his chest.

And they would stay in this silence, moving to their own song for much longer if it wasn’t for their cat jumping on the couch, right on the pilot, and resuming the movie on the prom dance performance.  

Giving Y/N and Jason a chance to put that scene into reality and adapting it into her their lives.

First time.

With many more to come.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd fluff #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #red hood fluff #jason todd fanfiction #red hood fanfiction

[nanomooselet]

Little but Fierce II

Sorry, sorry, I changed my mind - first up I'll explain Milly's absence, and why that's important. (Thus no pictures, sorry. Also this is extremely long.)

Stampede definitely skews toward an older demographic than the ‘98 anime; shounen this is not, not even a little. I remember the director (I think?) saying Cowboy Bebop was an influence, and I do see it. Structurally they're both very musically-driven - each episode explores a variation on the theme until the climax. But there's some thematic similarities too, sort of, mostly around the way the Bebop crew related to each other. It's a found family, yes. But found inevitably first means having lost. And there's a few ways to lose a family, but the one in this post might be the most common.

Stampede talks about fighting to grow up - moving from the security of childhood to the freedom of adulthood, and what inevitably gets left behind.

Under good circumstances, childhood is certain and safe. You're provided everything you need and your caregivers will protect you. You're not held responsible for anything, since you're still learning the shape of the world, and not expected to perform, achieve, or provide. It's the job of your caregivers to do those for you while you acquire practical and social skills, support your body's healthy development, and form a stable sense of self and an identity of your own. Under ideal circumstances, you'll get the opportunity to make plenty of mistakes but face no permanent consequences, just an explanation of how you went wrong you can learn from - since mistakes are how you learn. This is how you build your confidence and in general become better at the whole "human being" business, which believe me does actually take practice and is not inherent. Not everyone figures it out, either.

On the other hand, you also don't really have choices or power, and your reality is confined, any edges rounded. Without consequences there also isn't change. Your identity isn't your own. You are a child of your parents or the ward of your caregivers - you belong to them, in a sense are part of them, because you're their responsibility. Many experiences are gated from you until you mature. In general the world is a simple place and your feelings feel very big, but lack complexity. You're sad, happy, or angry from head to toe, but only one at a time and not over much. It feels important, but that's because kids can't have perspective. It's always the most important thing to them because they haven't experienced anything more important yet.

Adulthood is less safe but more free - you have to fulfil your own desires and defend yourself. Social connections are yours to try to form. You will likely have to work to provide for yourself, and perhaps others - it's no longer anyone's job to do that for you. You are accountable, you are responsible, your actions have consequences that rebound not only on you but upon others, good or bad. Outcomes are also more uncertain, and mistakes can be proportionately harder to recover from.

But you have autonomy - selfhood, identity are yours to claim. Choices are your own to make. There are downsides but also advantages, opportunities for greater happiness but also inevitable pain, and in general more subtle, complex emotions and situations. It can be very hard. But it can also be very beautiful.

Inevitably, humans being mammals and having such utterly helpless infants, there'll be at one point in your life you play the role of child to a caregiver. Odds are fairly good you'll also be caregiver to a child at least once (or something like one). Think how many of us have pets. Or even an older sibling to a younger. Teacher to a student. Such relationships always shape us, whichever role you occupy. There's a common archetype in folklore of the "mother of death", because whoever you were before becoming a parent has to die, at least a little, to make room for the vast responsibility of parenthood - think of giving up a career to raise a family, for example. And creating a life means inevitably you have invoked a death. All that lives, in time, will die.

Got all that?

So Stampede and arguably Trigun as a whole is about what happens when you fuck with it.

Good circumstances, yeah, you aren't going to find those. Let's see how hard people try anyway. Let's see what happens when care of a child is suddenly assumed by someone unprepared - or when a child is forced to assume a caregiving role. Or when a child never receives a childhood before being unmade, destroyed, but still surviving to claim the freedom of adulthood. What do they become?

(Am I talking about Wolfwood? Legato? You tell me.)

Are the Plants here to take care of us or ours to take care of? Can we only take from them or is there some way to give back? Can it be mutual? Or must we pick a side?

We don't have Milly yet because Milly resolves the argument. She's someone who sees no reason to pick a side. She's a very caring, protective person who also has no problem with being taken care of - she's happy to defer to Meryl, whom she has great respect for. And Meryl has respect for her too. It's a very good working relationship! Which, uh, unfortunately doesn't leave a lot of room for exploration of the main conflict, and might have been why they faded out a bit in the later volumes.

The purpose of switching Milly with Roberto was to create that conflict. There are a lot of mothers in Stampede but not many places for dads. And one thing I very much have come to appreciate is that both were afforded equal flaws, redemption and sympathy. There's no bumbling useless fathers, or blandly nice mothers (even Rem, who comes the closest, had terrible regrets, and I get the feeling we haven't seen the last of her. Really, around this point in the story in the older tellings a lot of people still thought she was Vash's dead girlfriend, so let's not hasten to judge). Rosa is a hard woman and she turns on Vash, but she has her reasons and Knives punishes her far too cruelly. Brad's kind of an asshole, but it's because he cares so deeply and doesn't know how to talk about it.

Roberto is jaded, but he takes his responsibility seriously and he's a good teacher to Meryl. He isn't just a vehicle for exposition.

Nor does he treat her badly in any way. Meryl feels perfectly safe snatching away his booze and talking back to him. They become fond of and comfortable around each other so quickly because they both decent and clever people, fundamentally similar. It's built on mutual respect, trust and communication.

Compare to how Knives interacts with Vash, how long the pauses are in their reunion in the diner. Knives is trying to be gentle, but Vash is so terrified he can't finish a sentence, can hardly speak at all, his voice is shaking so badly. Knives sneers when Vash doesn't instantly react with affection. Which is… insane considering this is exactly how it was the last time they met: Knives gruesomely murders someone, smearing the walls and floor with blood, and then expects Vash to be grateful or impressed. Their relationship is one in the process of slowly but violently shattering.

Meryl is very young in Stampede. She's got some significant character flaws. But it's hard for her not to do better than that.

Part I

Part III

Part IV

Part V

Part VI

Part VII

Part VIII

Part IX

#trigun stampede #trigun meta #tristampparty #roberto de niro #milly thompson #meryl stryfe #i swear i will talk directly about HER in the next post #i really am too gay for meryl to function help #or possibly happy to talk more shit about knives #terrible terrible plant man #meta: little but fierce

[cellphonehippie]

In defense of MCR - who I think have been uniquely protective of their female fans - the "we kill the girls to get paid" line references the fact that multiple album storylines involve dead women (demolition lovers, the whole 3 cheers plotline, drowning lessons). While this isn't a particularly progressive trope - and is often misogynistic - (afaik) none of the women die as a result of gendered violence or ipv. Contrast that w the multiple Fall Out Boy songs that explicitly wish a former lover dead - simply for the fault of being a former lover. I can't recall anything else that could be considered misogynistic - definitely nothing on the level of FOB's old break up songs or the way Panic has talked about women & hook-ups - but this isn't a blanket defense! I just think this particular line is more of an example of tounge in cheek commentary about their own career rather than misogyny (at least in a comparable sense to slut-shaming and wishing physical violence).

Also - not addressing the degree to which Hayley and Taylor's choices seem to be borne from internal motivation as the result of becoming adult women who have been affected by misogyny and come to regret how their words may be used in service of that vs. dudes who have largely failed to acknowledge any harm done because they've never seen the need to reevaluate their past work. One step further, is depiction endorsement? Representing the cultural values or their emotional state at the time is an important part of art! Even the shitty ones. But how do you preserve the art while mitigating the harm that it can/does cause? I don't think history needs to be revised but addressing the fact that harm was in fact done would be nice lol

Anyway, rarely a conversation fans have with nuance - though you'll be hard pressed to find any fandom conversation considering nuances - but agreed that women are allowed far less room to have depicted (or even felt) misogyny regardless of who they are/have become as evidenced through their actions. Probably bc it's characterized as betrayal rather than the way men get written off as "never do well, never going to learn to do well" - which is also unfair (to both women and men! Accountability and the ability to grow transcends gender!)

Sorry if I keep going I'll never stop

that does make sense! whenever i heard that line it made me ??? but you explained it so well. and you are so right with fall out boy, i love them but you cannot deny the misogyny in their lyrics especially when they have two songs wishing harm against an ex (i assume tell that mick is about an ex but i’m not sure)

i don’t think people allow women to grow and acknowledge their past mistakes like they do for men. esp with misogyny women are held at a higher standard for it, while hayley williams was continually called out for the lyrics in miz biz, brendon urie was yelling out variations of “whore” (for example “super slut”) on stage every night. it just sucks so much.

you’ve made so many good points in this, i really do agree with you and it’s an important conversation to have!!!! i’m sorry i’m not the best to articulate my thoughts in a better response to you, i’m not the best with words (hence why i’m a visual artist and not a writer lol) but please do share if you have anymore thoughts on this, loved reading and learning from your response!!!!

#ask

[loopy777]

Do you think what Mai did in Smoke and Shadow (about her father/NOS) is as evil/unforgivable as others make it out to be?

What are your thoughts on Maiko in Smoke and Shadow in general? Thank you!

For the first part, these are the same comics in which:

Zuko asks his genocidal father about how to handle international relations when millions of lives are at stake and then lies to Mai about it (The Promise, Part 2)

Zuko physically attacks Aang for saying that randomly breaking into people's houses looking for Azula probably won't work (Smoke & Shadow)

Zuko orders his guards to attack his friends instead of talking to them about their Harmony Restoration Movement not taking into account all the facts they didn't yet have when they came up with it (The Promise, Part 1)

Aang tries to murder Zuko because Zuko is trying to prevent the forced mass deportation of mixed-race kids born in the former colonies (The Promise, Part 3)

Katara forces Aang to promise to murder Zuko if Zuko ever makes a mistake (The Promise, Part 1)

So no, I don't think Mai trying to protect her family -- shortly after her brother's kidnapping by what everyone thinks are angry ghosts -- by lying about her Dad having committed treason is "evil" or "unforgivable" compared to any of our other supposed good guys. She makes a bad choice in a stressful moment with the goal of trying to protect her family and provide a good home to her toddler brother after she's already saved Zuko from her dad's treason. And I'm pretty sure she'd save Zuko again if her dad tried anything new.

Also, compare what Mai did to the first bullet point up there. Both she and Zuko lied to each other based on messed-up feelings of loyalty to their evil fathers. If what Mai did was evil, didn't Zuko also commit evil to her first?

My problem with Mai's actions is similar to my problems with all the other comics, as hinted by my bullet points: it's an out-of-character, contrived moment that doesn't make any sense in the moment and exists only to create drama in a story with a plot held together by string and bubble gum.

See, Mai is feeling bad because she thinks that her dad could have protected Tom-Tom from being kidnapped by the ghosts. That's right there in her dialogue. But why would she think that? What would her dad, who couldn't even actually assassinate Zuko right, actually do to fight off the ghosts? Does she think that the ghosts would have taken a political poll and passed over anyone who claims they voted for Ozai in the last election? Why would she think that, when Aang is right there in the room telling people that ghosts don't work that way?

To be fair, Kei Lo calls out exact what I'm criticizing- but then Mai never gives a response to it and the story moves on without addressing it again. Mai doesn't get a moment where she realizes she's being irrational; she doesn't acknowledge how she's letting her sense of guilt drive her to gloss over the truth; she doesn't even get to have her relationship with Kei Lo change based on this interaction.

Moreover, the story itself doesn't even seem concerned with his moment from her. Even though it's a mistake, it doesn't come back to bite her. Zuko merely asks why she would lie like that, and then she explains herself, and then he apologizes for doubting her and forgives her for what she did because he can completely understand.

Literally, it all goes down in exactly two panels. I wouldn't be surprised if Gene Yang actually forgot about what he did in S&S Part 2, and his editor made him insert a resolution into a mostly completed script for Part 3.

But let's take it at face value and ask why Zuko might be so willing to shrug it off?

The answer is that the story itself does not consider Mai's action evil, and maybe not even all that wrong. Or it considers intent to be more important than the actions. Or maybe everyone involved likes Mai so much that they really don't care.

It's a fairly shallow treatment of forgiveness, honestly. I consider 'Smoke & Shadow' to be a mess of a story made up of thrown-together elements that at best have nothing to do with each other and at worst get in each other's way. The whole story accomplishes nothing, leaving all the characters in the exact same place they were at the beginning. It even has Mai date and break up with the same terrorist boyfriend as she did in the prior 8-page Free Comic Book Day short (which actually told a better story).

And that's the core of my problem with how S&S treats Maiko. Mai's transgression could have been used as a springboard for them both confronting the matter of Zuko going to Ozai for advice and lying to Mai about it. We have parallel lies about fathers who don't deserve that kind of loyalty, but no one seems to notice. Both Mai and Zuko could have examined why they felt the need to tell those lies, and about how their family issues are pulling them apart. They could choose to overcome those issues and get back together, or they could tragically decide that they'll never be able to find a balance and go their separate ways forever. I'd prefer the first option, but at least the second one would still be a story.

Instead, we get some vague stuff about how Mai doesn't want to get hurt, so she doesn't want to be with someone she actually cares about. And then she breaks up with Kei Lo at the end, but is that because she's changed her mind about love, or has she actually come to have feelings for him? The story is kind of vague on it, and I see evidence that could support either reading. And since those readings are contradictory, that's not good.

About the only Maiko thing I felt satisfied with in S&S is that it establishes that Mai and Zuko both still love each other. So all a future story needs to do is address the matter of them telling lies to each other. I just don't understand why it's been 6 years and we haven't gotten that story.

So is Mai's action evil? No, it's stupid, but it's not as bad as what everyone else in these comics are doing, and it's directly comparable to what Zuko did to her in a prior comic. Does S&S treat Maiko well? Also no, because I'm not sure it realizes what I just described.

If I wanted to respond to someone calling Mai evil for her lie, I would say, "lol you're actually taking these comics seriously? go touch some grass, kid." But no one who calls Mai evil is actually using their brains for anything but justifying an existing preference. It's fair to dislike Mai or Maiko, but this kind of disingenuous garbage is what makes the whole rest of the fandom not want to be associated with Zutarians- and that's especially unfair to the nice Zutarians, who just want to enjoy their ship in peace but are treated as guilty by association with the militant fanatics.

I hope Anon dislikes S&S as much as me, otherwise this is going to be a really awkward answer.

[astridhobbit]

Brands Are Not People, Dammit

Feeling shouty today. ::hauls out soapbox::

Here is the thing that you must understand, that you must get into your head and keep there no matter how hard companies try to dislodge it:

Companies and corporations and brands are not people. They are not individuals, and they should never, ever, ever be treated as individuals.

The reason why is twofold.

In the first place, corporations being treated as people allows responsibility for reprehensible actions to be diffused away from the actual people responsible. As an example, let us consider the recent (as of this writing) Wizards debacle.

“Wizards sent the Pinkertons to a guy’s house to take back some Magic cards.” In this sentence, “Wizards” is a massive entity, cartoonishly large and imposing, impossible to reason with or hold accountable, utterly terrifying.

“Someone at Wizards made the call to send the Pinkerton’s to a guy’s house to take back some Magic cards.” In this sentence, we have narrowed our scope to a person. And a person can be talked to, reasoned with, called on the phone, held accountable for their actions. We may not know who they are, but we know it was someONE, not someTHING.

Companies are made of people. The decision “the company” makes is actually decisions made by PEOPLE within the company, who then get the consequences for those decisions diffused across “the company”. It is similar to using “the algorithm” as an excuse to deny services to people who would otherwise receive them. It is part of the way people running the company can make infuriating decisions and leave dealing with pissed off customers to the front-line workers who can’t actually do anything about those infuriating decisions.

Which brings me to the second part: different people at the company will make different, sometimes contradictory decisions, because different people within the company want different things.

This is how you can get things like, oh, for example, hiring Seanan McGuire to write some kickass stories for your website on one hand, and sending Pinkertons to someone’s house on the other. The person who hired Seanan IS DIFFERENT FROM the person who sent the Pinkertons. They both hide behind the same responsibility-diffuser of “Wizards”, but the actual people making those decisions are different.

Companies are made of people. People want different things. Even people who ostensibly work for the same company and who, theoretically, all want that company to succeed so they can keep getting paid! People, individual humans, have different problems that need to be solved, different ideas of what solutions to those problems look like, different goals and responsibilities and metrics, and that’s all before we get down to different personalities and preferences and biases. And it is those people, not The Company, that make the decisions and choices you do or don’t like.

Now, companies really really want you to think about them as a single entity, because if you think of them as simply one thing, then no one in the company is responsible for any goddamn thing. Yes, there was one person who made the choice to send the Pinkerton’s to some guy’s house, but precisely who is deliberately obfuscated. Findable, probably, but only with great effort. Instead, we get “Wizards send the Pinkerton’s to some guy’s house”. Companies diffuse responsibility and make accountability somewhere between difficult and impossible. The people making awful decisions count on that. This is bullshit. You must, you MUST hold in your head that they are NOT individuals, they should not be thought of as individuals, and they will try everything they can to make you think of them as individuals.

My tip: whenever The Company makes a decision, never ever state it as such. Literally whenever you see something like “[Company] did [thing],” rephrase it, even in your own head, as “Someone at [Company] did [thing].” It’s not “Wells Fargo denied my home loan,” it’s “someone at Wells Fargo denied my home loan.” That someone has a name, and that name is findable. And if it’s “the algorithm at Wells Fargo told them to deny my home loan” well then, someone at Wells Fargo made the choice to use that algorithm. That person, too, has a name, and that name, too, is findable.

::deep breath::

::steps down from soapbox:: I yield my time.

#soapbox #brands #brands are not people #BRANDS ARE NOT PEOPLE

[joons]

The way you've phrased your opinions on sex work and abortion gives me a pretty good idea of what the answer to these questions are going to be, but hell, why not: how do you want to see men held accountable for their part in pregnancy? How much are you willing to see your taxes go up to cover the cost of programs that provide ANY mental/emotional/medical/financial support women with unwanted pregnancies need? Do you support the creation of easier, faster processes for parents to give up their parental rights to unwanted children of any age? And how do you reconcile adoption as a solution to unwanted pregnancy with the well-documented reality that the foster care system is overburdened, that the overwhelming majority of Americans don't WANT to adopt (and those that do statistically avoid infants of the races most impacted by lack of access to abortion), and that and kids in the foster care system can be subject to neglect and/or physical and sexual abuse from their caregivers, plus lasting psychological trauma from the insecurity and uncertainty of life as a foster child?

In order:

Completely.

A lot.

Giving up a child of any age is kind of whack, but we have lots of safe haven laws.

Foster care and adoption procedures and industries need to be reformed, but this is not something pro-choicers have tackled either.

There are so many parents who want to adopt that there are not enough children that can be placed. This is somewhat of a warning sign, as it can lead to unscrupulous adoption scams or even trafficking. On the other hand, it can mean that adoption agencies can be more thorough and careful about selecting the right families.

Foster care is important in my area, which has been hit hard by the opioid epidemic, which is the leading reason why a child might be placed into foster care. There have been great results at increasing foster families through recruitment drives as part of a collaboration with governments, nonprofits and churches. The people in my life who have stepped up to meet this need inspire me more than I can say.

There is a difference between recognizing that we need interventions to help alleviate trauma that happens to someone through no fault of their own and wiping our hands and saying, "Actually, these children are better off dead and will never grow into anything of worth and will never value themselves." I just really cannot even wrap my mind around it, if I'm being honest.

We cannot eliminate suffering by eliminating life, unless we're all ready to pack it up when Hale-Bopp comes around again. I believe we have an obligation to reject misanthropic worldviews like that.

Did you know that in the U.S. only 37% of adopted children are white? Seems like those who adopt want to provide homes for children of all kinds, so we cannot pretend there is a great disparity among racial groups, while abortion clinics have historically attempted to target those communities specifically.

I like talking through these issues because it helps me think and refines my focuses. But I also think it's quite ludicrous to say that pro-lifers have not been doing this work and thinking about these issues for a long time and that they must shoulder the full responsibility of creating a perfect world. If the early pro-choice battle cry of "safe, legal, and rare" were true, perhaps many of these issues would have been tackled earlier, as both sides attempted to eliminate the "need" for abortion? Maybe Planned Parenthood would offer a little something to support ... parenthood? Or maybe we have let ourselves get a bit sidetracked, and the myopic focus on abortion from pro-choice advocates has left pro-lifers to try to pick up the pieces?

#messages #Anonymous #pro life

[weedgallerydc0]

What is a certified wellness coach and why it is necessary to work with a certified coach for your well being

A practitioner that assists clients in accomplishing their desired levels of health and wellness is known as a certified wellness coach. For the purpose of assisting their customers in accomplishing their objectives, wellness coaches employ a wide range of tactics, such as nutritional counseling, exercise programming, stress management, and mindfulness practices. These experts have been put through a rigorous training program and earned the appropriate certifications to guarantee that they possess the education and experience required to give effective coaching services.

It is crucial for your well-being to work with a qualified wellness coach for a number of reasons, including the following:

Training and Accreditation for Working Professionals Certified wellness coaches have demonstrated that they have achieved the level of expertise and knowledge required to successfully deliver coaching services by successfully completing professional training and obtaining certification. They have a profound comprehension of the fundamentals of health and wellness and are able to guide clients toward the achievement of their objectives in a way that is both secure and efficient.

Customized Training Programs for Each Client Qualified wellness coaches collaborate with their clients to design individualized coaching programs that are tailored to the client's specific requirements and objectives. These plans ensure that the plan is individualized to the client by taking into consideration the customer's preferences, health history, and lifestyle choices. This allows the plan to meet the client's specific requirements.

Client Responsibility and Ongoing Support As part of their services, certified wellness coaches offer their clients continual accountability and support. They offer customers support and direction when difficulties emerge, as well as assistance in maintaining their progress toward their goals. The ability to be held accountable for one's actions and to get support from others is often essential to sustaining one's motivation over the long run and accomplishing one's goals.

Inspiration and Compelling Arguments Qualified wellness coaches receive extensive training to prepare them to inspire and invigorate their clientele. Throughout the coaching process, they offer support and encouragement to their clients and help clients maintain a focus on achieving their goals. This kind of motivation and encouragement can be absolutely necessary for keeping up one's momentum and attaining one's goals.

Approach That Is Holistic Qualified wellness coaches look at their clients' health and wellness from a more comprehensive perspective. They take into account every facet of their client's life, such as their diet, level of physical activity, capacity for stress management, and mindfulness practices. By taking this strategy, we ensure that our clients are making progress toward their overall health and wellness in all aspect of their lives.

Mentoring That Is Both Safe and Effective Services provided by certified wellness coaches are guaranteed to be both safe and effective. They have received the necessary education to work with clients of varying ages and fitness levels, making it possible for the coaching plan to be adapted to the specific requirements of each individual client. They also make certain that all coaching activities are risk-free and productive, hence reducing the likelihood of participants getting hurt or experiencing other unfavorable results.

It is critical to your health that you work with a wellness coach who is trained and certified. These experts have been put through a rigorous training program and earned the appropriate certifications to guarantee that they possess the education and experience required to give effective coaching services. They offer customized coaching plans, support and accountability, motivation and encouragement, as well as a holistic approach to health and fitness. You will be able to accomplish your health and wellness objectives in a way that is both secure and efficient if you collaborate with a qualified wellness coach.

My name is Shini Sahni, and I am the creator and principal coach at Nu-Re Wellness. I am an expert in translating evidence-based knowledge regarding mental health and lifestyle medicine into effective advice. Both preventive mental health care and lifestyle medicine utilize therapeutic interventions as a key modality for a comprehensive approach to health and wellness, and hence they are complementary. We concentrate on identifying intervention points for our clients prior to a discernible decline in their mental or physical health. Please visit www.nurewellness.com  to schedule an appointment.

[digipreeth]

Do MBA programs require prior work experience?

Do MBA programs require prior work experience?

The response to this question varies depending on the university you are considering. Some colleges might insist on a specific number of years of experience, while others might not.

There are numerous routes you can take to earn an MBA. You can choose to enroll in a traditional on-campus university or pursue an online degree. Both options have benefits and drawbacks, but a frequent query is whether work experience is required to enroll in an MBA program. To find the answer, let's look at this problem in more detail.

The MBA in detail.

MBA stands for "Master of Business Administration". Strong emphasis is placed on business and management concepts in the postgraduate degree. MBA programs frequently cover subjects like organizational leadership, marketing, finance, and accounting. Senior management positions are frequently held by MBA holders in businesses and organizations.

There are several types of MBA programs. Some programs are designed for professionals who are currently working and want to finish their degrees while maintaining a full-time job. These courses are frequently delivered online or quickly. Other MBA programs are developed for full-time students who can attend classes often.

What level of professional experience is required to enroll in an online MBA program?

Given that each university has different standards for work experience, let's examine the bare minimum of experience required for an online MBA program.

There are several choices available to working people who want to get their degree while maintaining a full-time job, including an online MBA. For instance, although some organizations may demand candidates to have a minimum of two years of professional work experience, others may not.

Why is job experience important? What does it imply?

Work experience is often thought of as prior, paid employment. This holds true for both full- and part-time jobs as well as a volunteer activities.

Various types of work experience are preferable.

The first type of work experience is on-the-job training. This is the time when your employer gives you instructions on how to perform a certain task or job.

The second kind of work experience consists of formal education and training. This includes things like coursework from universities, trade schools, and courses for professional certification.

The third type of work experience is informal education and training. Self-study, workshops, and online courses are included in this.

Consider, for the purpose of illustration, that you wish to apply to an MBA program. If you have worked in the business area, you will likely be at an advantage over someone who has no work experience (if there are limited seats).

Work experience is essential since it can improve your chances of getting into a renowned MBA program. If you are applying to prestigious colleges like Harvard or Stanford, having work experience will probably boost your chances of being accepted into a program at those schools.

How much work experience am I have to have?

What sort of work experience is needed to enroll in an online MBA program?

Work experience of any kind, including full-time employment, internships, and voluntary work, is allowed. Both official and informal education and training are possible.

In any industry, full-time employment requires a weekly minimum labor commitment of 40 hours.

A part-time job also includes working fewer hours per week (typically 20 or less) in any industry.

Internships are often short-term jobs that last a few months or less. They typically work in industries that are relevant to the online MBA program you are interested in, which gives you the chance to get experience there.

Volunteering is an additional method of gaining work experience. A great way to broaden your horizons and give back to your community is by volunteering, which is typically carried out through non-profit organizations or other groups.

Conclusion

Thus, a general response to what kind of work experience is needed for an online MBA program cannot be given. According to the requirements of the university you are applying to, yes.

If you lack any prior work experience, don't worry. A lot of online MBA programs don't require previous work experience. Make sure the program you choose is a good match for you by conducting your research.

[thebibliosphere]

So I'm currently unemployed because I got fired for taking too much sick leave (it was legally sketchy blah blah blah but in the end I just can't work and take care of myself and investigate my mystery health problems at the same time). So I've been spending more time writing!

I really admire your writing and loved Hunger Pangs. I'm looking forward to the poly elements developing and I'm wondering if you have any advice for writing about poly. I've made one of my projects a snarky take on "write what you know" ... Apparently what I know is southern gothic meets Pacific northwest gothic, chronic illness pandemic surrealism, and falling back-asswards into threesomes.

I know this is a very open-ended question and I don't expect an answer, I'm just curious about it if you have the energy. As a writer, trying to write honestly / realistically about polyamory/enm, I'm curious if you have any thoughts on what's different about portraying monogamy or nonmonogamy in books, romance or erotica or otherwise.

I'm trying to read examples but it's hard to find examples that fit the niche I'm looking at. Excuse me if this question is nonsense, it's the cluster headaches.

I'm sorry to hear you've been dealing with all that and solidarity on the cluster headaches. But I'm glad you're finding an outlet through writing! And I hope you're happy with an open-ended ramble in response because oh boy, there's a lot I could talk about and I could probably do a better job of answering this sort of thing with more specific questions, but let's see where we end up.

There's definitely a big difference between writing polyamory/ENM (ethical non-monogamy) and what people often expect from monogamous love stories.

Just even from a purely sales and marketing standpoint, the moment you write anything polyamorous (or even just straight up LGBTQIA+ without the ENM) you're going to get considered closer to being erotica/obscene than hetero romances. It's an unfair bias, but it's one that exists in our society. But also the Amazon algorithm and their shitty, shitty human censors. Especially the ones that work the weekends. (Talking to you, Carlos 🖕.)

So not only do you start out hyper-aware that you're writing something that is highly stigmatized or fetishized (at least I'm hyper-aware) but that you are also writing for a niche market that is starving for positive content because the content that exists is either limited, not what they want, or is problematic in some fashion i.e. highly stigmatized or fetishy. And even then, the wants, desires, and expectations of the community you're writing for are complex and wildly varied and hard to fit into an easy formula.

When writing monogamous love stories, there is a set expectation that’s really hard to fuck up once you know it. X person meets Y. Attraction happens, followed by some sort of minor conflict/resolution. Other plot may happen. A greater catalyst involving personal growth for both parties (hopefully) happens. Follow the equation to its ultimate resolution and achieve Happily Ever After. 

But writing ENM is... a lot more difficult, if only because of the pure scope of possibilities. You could try to follow the same equation and shove three (or more) people into it, but it rarely works well. Usually because if you’re doing it right, you won’t have enough room in a single character arc to allow for enough growth, and if ENM requires anything in abundance, it’s room to grow.

And this post is huge so I’m going to put the rest under a cut :)

There's also a common refrain in certain online polyam/ENM circles that triads and throuples are overrepresented in media and they may be right to some extent. Personally, I believe the issue isn't that triads and throuples are overrepresented, but that there is such minuscule positive rep of ethical non-monogamy in general, that the few tiny instances we have of triads in media make it seem like it's "everywhere" when in actuality, it's still quite rare and the media we do have often veers into Unicorn Hunter fetish porn. Which is its own problematic thing. And just to be clear, I’m not including this part to dissuade you from writing "falling back-asswards into threesomes." If anything, I need more of it and would hook it directly into my brain if I could. I'm just throwing it out there into the void in the hope that someone will take the thought and run with it, lol.

I’d love to see more polyfidelitous rep in fiction, just as much as I’d like to see more relationship anarchy too. More diversity in fiction is always good.

Another thing that differs in writing ENM romance vs conventional monogamy is the feeling like you need to justify yourself. There's a lot of pressure to be as healthy and non-problematic as possible because you are being held to a higher standard of criticism. Both from people from without the ENM communities, and from the people within. Granted, some people don't give a shit and just want to read some fantastic porn (valid) but there are those who will cheerfully read Fifty Shades of Bullshit and call it "spicy" and "romantic," then turn around and call the most tooth-rottingly-sweet-fluff about a queer platonic polycule heresy. That's just the way the world works.

(Pro-tip for author life in general: never read your own reviews; that way madness lies. I glimpsed one the other day that tagged Hunger Pangs as “ethical cheating” and just about had an aneurism.)

And while that feeling of needing to justify yourself comes from a valid place of being excluded from the table of socially accepted norms, it can also be to the detriment of both the story and the subject matter at hand. I've seen some authors bend so far over backward to avoid being problematic in their portrayal of ENM, they end up being problematic for entirely different reasons. Usually because they give such a skewed, rose-tinted perspective of how things work, it ends up coming off as well... a bit culty and obnoxious tbh.

“Look how enlightened we are, freed from the trappings of monogamy and jealousy! We’re all so honest and perfect and happy!”

Yeah, uhu, sure Jan. Except here’s the thing, not all jealousy is bad. How you act on it can be, but jealousy itself is an important tool in the junk drawer that is the range of human emotion. It can clue us in to when we’re feeling sad or neglected, which in turn means we should figure out why we’re feeling those things. Sometimes it’s because brains are just like that and anxiety is a thing. Other times it’s because our needs are actually being neglected and we are in an unhealthy situation we need to remedy. You gotta put the work in to figure it out. Which is the same as any style of relationship, whether it’s mono, polyam or whatever flavor of ENM you subscribe to* And sometimes you just gotta be messy, because that’s how humans are. Being afraid to show that mess makes it a dishonest portrayal, and it also robs you of some great cannon fodder for character development.

Which brings me in a roundabout way to my current pet peeve in how certain writers take monogamous ideals and apply them to ENM, sometimes without even realizing it. The “Find the Right Person and Settle Down” trope.

Often, in this case, ENM or polyamory is treated as a phase. Something you mature out of with age or until you meet “The One(tm).” This is, of course, an attempt to follow the mono style formula expected in most romances. And while it might appeal to many readers, it’s uh, actually quite insulting. 

To give an example, I am currently seeing this a lot in the Witcher fandom. 

Fanon Netflix!Jaskier is everyone's favorite ethical slut until he meets Geralt then woops, wouldn’t you know, he just needed to find The One(tm). Suddenly, all his other sexual and romantic exploits or attractions mean nothing to him. Let's watch as he throws away a core aspect of his personality in favor of a man. 

Yeah... that sure showed those societal norms... 

If I were being generous, I’d say it’s a poor attempt at showing New Relationship Euphoria and how wrapped up people can become in new relationships. But honestly, it’s monogamous bias eking its way in to validate how special and unique the relationship is. Because sometimes people really can’t think of any other way to show how important and valid a relationship is without defining it in terms of exclusivity. Which is a fundamental misunderstanding of how ENM works for a lot of people and invalidates a lot of loving, serious and long-term relationships.

This is not to say that some polyam/poly-leaning people can't be happy in monogamous relationships! I am! (I consider myself ambiamorous. I'm happy with either monogamy or polyamory, it really just depends on the relationship(s) I’m in.) But I also don't regard my relationship with a mono partner as "settling down" or "growing up." It's just a choice I made to be with a person I love, and it's a valid one. Just like choosing to never close yourself off to multiple relationships is valid. And I wish more people realized that, or rather, I wish the people writing these things knew that :P

Anyway, I think I’ve rambled enough. I hope this collection of incoherent thoughts actually makes some sense and might be useful. 

----

*A good resource book that doesn't pull any punches in this regard is Polysecure by Jessica Fern. It's a wonderfully insightful read that explores the messier side of consensual non-monogamy, especially with how it can be affected by trauma or inter-relationship conflicts. But it also shows how to take better steps toward healthy, ethical non-monogamy (a far better job than More Than Two**) and conflict resolution, making it a valuable resource both for someone who is a part of this relationship style***, but also for writers on the outside looking in who might have a very simple or misguided idea of what conflict within polyam/ENM relationships might look like, vs traditional monogamous ones.

** The author of More Than Two has been accused of multiple accounts of abuse within the polyamorous community, with many of his coauthors having spoken out about the gaslighting and emotional and psychological damage they experienced while in a relationship with him. A lot of their stories are documented here: https://www.itrippedonthepolystair.com/ (warning: it is not light material and deals with issues of abuse, gaslighting, and a whole other plethora of Yikes.) While some people still find More Than Two helpful reading, there are now, thankfully, much, much better resources out there.

*** Some people consider polyam/ENM to be part of their identity or orientation, while others view it as a relationship style.It largely depends on the individual. 

#long post #writing #ethical non-monogamy #relationship styles #relationship models in fiction #also that kindle link is an affiliate link #because fuck giving amazon free recs

[persephone-uwu]

Getting banned from a My Hero Server because people were openly defending Endeavour, and victim blaming Toya. It’s extremely fucked up. Saying you want him dead, and he deserves to die, but not Enji because he’s “changing,” and then admitting to being an abuse apologist? Because you like Endeavour?

I hate the argument “it’s just fiction,” because no, it’s not. Abuse isn’t fiction, and how you respond to it, whether fictional or not, is extremely telling of how you react to abuse in general.

“Being a victim doesn’t give you the right to kill your abuser,” not in the real world, no. (It should, but that’s for a different conversation.) For those of us who relate to Toya, it’s comforting to live vicariously through him. He can get justice for himself. He deserves to get justice for himself.

Saying “murder is worse than abuse,” is the most awful thing I’ve ever heard. Honestly.

That’s definitely coming from someone whose never been abused. However, I’m not defending him. Do I think he should be held responsibility for his crimes? Absolutely. But I don’t want to see him rot in prison for life, when he deserves redemption. I think he really relates to Azula, and they have a lot in common, so I love that. They were both trained to be child weapons, and the stress of being the perfect, golden child broke them down. But not even Azula was locked up forever; but it shows how much mental illness can effect you, and your choices. He’s a beautifully written character, and I want to see him get redemption. I understand he needs to pay for his crimes, but he can do that in psychiatric care, while getting help. I don’t think it’s fair that he should be held accountable for his actions, when Endeavour hasn’t been. His crimes are swept under the rug, and his fans, both in the manga and the real world, defend him.

I say this quote on Tumblr a long time ago, and I kept it because it made me really think of Dabi and Shigaraki, so I’m going to post it here: “I too once believed in the ruling power, but when I put my faith in it to protect me, I was betrayed. The people who did this faced no consequences, no trial, and as we speak continue to do harm to others. Your justice is pretty in theory, hero, but it is naive— the real world is messy and cruel, and unfair; and I plan to rectify it.

Too long I have tried other ways to make this system work— it is time to make a change.”

That’s literally what the villains are doing. They’ve been failed by their system, and continue to do so. If the vigilantes feel the need to take justice into their own hands, why can’t the villains?

“Why didn’t Toya just come forward? Get a new family? Run away?”

It’s not that simple. And why should he?? Why wouldn’t he hold his abuser accountable??? Why does he have to leave his family behind? He did find a new family though. People who cared about him, who SAW him.

If you can openly love Endeavour, because you think a 46 year old man deserves redemption because “abuse isn’t as bad as murder,” then you’re part of a much larger problem.

The League wants to “make a better, shining world” as stated by Dabi. In HIS eyes, he’s making the world a better place. You know the saying, right? “You’ll never truly understand a villain, until you understand why they’re the hero in their own mind.” And who says they’re wrong? Isn’t the author showing us that the hero society IS flawed? There is no Right or Wrong side. Have you played My Hero Ones Justice 2? Have you heard Dabi’s dialogue? He mentions meeting Gran Trino in the hospital as a kid, probably because of the intense training by Endeavor. He only says, “God, or whosoever up there, is cruel.” Which means he’s HURTING still because of Endeavor. He’s also insecure, because of his dad saying he wants good enough. He constantly calls himself weak, and at one point, Twice tries to make him feel better by telling him to not put himself down. Endeavor isn’t better, because it’s taken him THIS long, while Touya is still developing; but it’s hard to grow as a person when all you’ve ever known is pain. Shoto said himself that he could’ve grown up to be just like Dabi, if Deku hadn’t given him the “power of friendship” speech. But Touya didn’t have anyone to give him that speech. No one saved him. No one pulled him back from the edge. Endeavor can’t just “forget” what he’s done, wtf. You can’t just forget someone’s abuse, because it’s easier for you. What about Touya’s closure? His justice? He only wants to kill Shoto because of his trauma. Do I condone it? No. But it’s not his fault, he needs help. He’s not beyond redemption. For once, someone needs to help these villains, because no one ever saved them. They need therapy, and to be rehabilitated; not killed or locked away, and forgotten. There’s no sentences in their world, once you’re in jail, you’re in jail. They dump you there and forget about you. The League deserves more than that. They deserves voices who speak out against the abuse, discrimination, and everything else they’ve had to endure. “Villains are just victims whose stories haven’t been told.”

PS: It’s also hard to give a good argument when you have slow mode on.

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #dabi is touya #dabi mha #dabi bnha #bnha dabi #Dabi #todoroki touya #touya todoroki #toya todoroki #anti endeavor #mha spoiler #league of villains #lov #paranormal liberation front #why does this fanbase have the worst takes #discord shenanigans

[genshin-no-simp]

Scenario: When They Say/Do Something They Don't Mean

All the stories I post here are from my Wattpad account: https://www.wattpad.com/user/Genshin_no_Simp

This contains the following characters: Kaeya, Diluc, Zhongli and Xiao.

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

💙💙Kaeya💙💙

It had been a very stressful week for Kaeya. He was grumpy and agitated. It was only a matter of time before he snapped at you.

"Babe, you really need to take a break." You frowned quite upset that your lover was still frantically writing at his desk.

You had even trying to convince him to take a break, even if it was for fives minutes, just to get him to look at anything put the seemingly endless pile of paperwork. That's when he slammed his hands against the table while standing up as he glared at you.

"Dammit (Y/N). I don't have time for your shit right now. I have need to get this done, so leave me alone and. Go. Home." He sat back down and continued to write.

You're eyes welled with tears as you silently left his office in fear of angering him further.

Kaeya sat as his desk and only when you were gone did he realized what he had done, that was the first time he had ever raised his voice to you. He just had so much to do, and everyone kept giving him more work to do, but it wasn't fair to take it out on you.

Despite all the work stacked on his desk, you were more important than anything written on these sheets. So he made his way out of the Favonius HQ and down to Flora, luckily enough he had gotten to her just before she closed for the night.

Kaeya knocked gently on the bedroom, as warning before opening the door. The sight broke him. You were laying face first on the bed crying. With long strides, he was at your side in an instant. Placing the flowers on the bed side table he sat next you. You were aware of his presence so the hand that touch you didn't catch you off guard.

"Baby, I'm sorry," his chest was tight. You could hear how sorry he was.

"Baby come here, please," he gently held your arm but he made no move to pull you up though, he wanted to make sure you wanted to. Which you did, so you sat up and rubbed your eyes.

Kaeya instantly pulled you close to his chest.

"I'm sorry baby, I shouldn't have taken it out on you." He kissed you hair over and over again.

"It's okay Kaeya," you hugged him back. And it really was, you realized you shouldn't have pestered him so much to take a break, you knew how busy he was so you should've left him but you didn't want him to over work himself.

"It's not." He shook his head.

"It is." You looked up at him.

"It's not." He met your gaze.

"It is." You put your finger to his lips to prevent him from replying, "I'm only upset because I wasn't expecting you to raise your voice at me, you didn't hurt my feelings."

Kaeya's eye flickered with uncertainty. But you only smiled at him and kissed him. Feeling your lips against his made him melt. His tense muscles relaxing as he kissed you back. Pulling back you smiled again.

"I love you."

"I love you too, baby." Kaeya smiled pulling you down with him onto the bed, where he spent the rest of his time showering you in endless kisses.

❤️❤️Diluc❤️❤️

It's not everyday the Diluc Ragnvindr falls in love and has a cute girl all to himself. So when finally has you he didn't realize just how jealous he could get.

"Diluc," you called to him hesitantly. He was in a mood, you knew. But you didn't know why, "sweetheart what's the matter?" Your concern for him only seemed to agitate him more.

He turned to you rather sharply, slamming his hand onto the wall behind you. Startled, your body went stiff as you looked up at him all wide eyed, like a deer caught in headlights.

"What's the matter?" He repeated almost mockingly, you felt your heart twinge, "you, you think just because you're pretty you can play with people's feelings?"

Your mouth opened to say something but no words came out, you were still trying to process what Diluc meant.

"Why so silent? Do I not make you happy enough? You have to go seek out someone else?" Slowly but surely Diluc's harsh facade was wearing off, and slowly you were putting the pieces together.

"You saw me with my brother earlier didn't you?" You emphasized the word brother.

"Your-" Diluc stared at you and he continued to stare at you. You stared back, never once faltering.

Slowly he backed away from you, casting his gaze to the floor. He had just indirectly accused you of being with someone else. And he had frightened you. He felt awful. He was ashamed of himself.

"Luc," he reached out for him, but he was so disappointed in himself he recoiled from you. He didn't deserve to be touched by you.

You rolled your eyes, you knew he was regretting his actions and honestly you found it kinda cute.

"Luc," you said again, this time cupping both his cheeks giving him little choice but to look at you. Where you could see the regret spilling from his eyes, "it was an honest mistake."

Diluc grabbed both hand wrists holding them closer to him, "it doesn't excuse my behaviour." He was really beating himself up over it.

You sighed deeply with a smile, "if you wanna make it up to me, I have one request."

Diluc's eyes lit up and he nodded quickly, "anything, anything at all and its yours," you couldn't help but giggle at his eager response.

"I want a kiss." You smiled up at him again. He stared at you, dumbfounded. He wasn't expecting something so...simple. But at the same time, you rarely asked him for things, it was usually him who spoiled you without asking you what you wanted, not that you minded of course.

"That's...it?" He couldn't help but ask.

You gave a small hum and closed your eyes while puckering your lips for your kiss. Diluc couldn't help but chuckle.

"Less laughing, more kissing," you cooed while making kissing noises to emphasize what you wanted.

Diluc shook his head, pulling your hands away from his face, he put them to your side before cupping the back of your neck with one hand and pulling you close to his body by your waist with the other. Leaning down he closed the gap, pressing his lips against yours, in a short, sweet kiss. Your body melded against his as your arms wrapped around him, instinctively kissing back once feeling his lips upon yours.

Diluc pulled back just enough to peer lovingly into your face, the look of adoration on his face was enough to make you forget about the world. Content you leaned up rubbing your nose against his and whispering softly.

"I love you Diluc."

"And I love you, my angel." His arms wrapped securely around your waist held you tight as he pressed you back against the wall, gentler this time. He gave you no room for escape as he pressed searing hot kisses against your neck.

💛💛Zhongli 💛💛

It had been a long time since Zhongli has had a partner. Especially one as beautiful, well put together and feisty as yourself. You were everything to him, there was nothing he cherished more than you, so when he saw how your family had treated you, degraded you and belittled you, he was furious. With them for having the audacity to treat you that way, and at you for not standing up for yourself like you usually did.

Zhongli had pinned you between his arms right up against the wall. His piercing gold eyes also held a helping hand at keeping you in place. You had never seen him like this before, so bent out of shape.

"Why did you just sit there and let them talk to you like that?" His deep voice, even deeper as it was laced heavily with annoyance. It genuinely made you flinch, he has never used this tone of voice with you. You didn't even know he was capable of it, you always found his voice to be so soothing. Many times you had even fallen asleep while he was recounting old tales because of how comforting it was. But this was not one of those times.

"W-what do you mean?" You stuttered like a fool. You were unsure of where this unexpected rage had come from. This only made him furrow his brows deeper, a low growl emanating from his throat. You did you best to hold back the whimper that threatened to slip out.

"Your parents," he was having a hard time trying to control himself but he managed to restrain himself, "why did you let them talk to you like that?" Till now Zhongli had been slightly hunched over as he stared down at you but now he stood up straight, his tall frame dwarfed yours.

That's when it all made sense, he wasn't pissed at you because you had done something wrong but at the fact that you didn't stand up for yourself. Suddenly he seemed a lot less frightening that he initially did but he was still a bit intimidating, especially when you had to crane your neck up just to stare up at him.

"Because I'm used to it," your voice came out a lot meeker than usual, and you dropped your gaze to the ground, "it wouldn't matter if I did stand up for myself anyway," you continued, "they would just laugh in my face. It's always been easier to just keep quiet and take it..."

You had never told this to him before, this news was new to him, it made sense why you refused to take shit from other people and why you kept quiet against your parents. Zhongli's eyes softened and he removed his hands from the wall and onto your shoulders. Before you could stop yourself you jumped at his touch. Zhongli's eyes flickered with horror and swiftly removed his hands from you.

Were you scared of him?

Zhongli swore to himself, he showed an ugly side of himself, and he had frightened you so bad that you were afraid he was going to hurt you.

You could see the hurt in his eyes, not because of you, you knew, but at himself. Zhongli didn't know how to handle the situation now presented to him. So you stepped up and made the first move to recovery. You jumped wrapping your arms loosely around his neck, your small frame threatening to slip from him, Zhongli instantly held you up and close to his body.

"I wasn't scared," you stated firmly, "I was caught off gaurd. So don't go beating yourself up okay? I could never be scared of someone as sweet as you, after all you were only like that because you were worried about me, right?" You gave a small tilt of your head with a smile.

"I-" his words were caught in his throat, why were you being so understanding, you should be angry at him or crying or running away from him, telling him to go away, yet instead, you clung to him for dear life, or perhaps that was him, holding you so close, afraid you would run away from him if he let go.

Zhongli buried his face into your shoulder, "I'm sorry, my love. I didn't mean to get so upset. Just when I saw them treating you like that, it made me so angry. You are a hard working, passionate woman," he was looking at you now, "so thoughtful and understanding, so full of life and love, and you deserve nothing but praise and respect," Zhongli had set you on your feet, taking ahold of your hand he brought it to his lips, giving a chaste kiss to your knuckles, between that notion and the praise he was dishing out your face was dusted a rosy pink, "you deserve all the love in the world."

But you already had all the love you could ever want especially with the way he looked at you. You never knew someone could hold so much love in their eyes until this moment, as you gazed into Zhongli's gold orbs, you only hoped that you conveyed the same amount of passion for him in your own eyes.

"I don't need the world's love as long as you by my side because you are my world." It was cheesy yes, but you meant every word. Zhongli gave the biggest smile yet as he swooped you into his strong arms, and pressing his lips against yours. Cupping his cheek you returned his kiss.

You continued to kiss for what felt like eternity all the while whispering soft "I love yous" against each others lips.

💚💚Xiao💚💚

All of this was new to him. These feelings of adoration and affection for someone. The want and need to be near someone. Having someone to call his own, to have someone be there for him when he came home and vice versa. He's never had anybody like you before in his life, someone he cared so deeply for he was afraid of dying and leaving you alone. So when you came back to the inn, hurt, it set off an uncontrollable rage or was it worry? Honestly he had no idea what he was feeling but he certainly wasn't happy.

He slammed his fist against the wall so hard it cracked, a few specs of rubble falling to the ground. It surprised you causing you to jump holding a hand to your chest.

"Xiao what's the matter?" You were sure he was going to be happy to see you but maybe you've out stayed your welcome.

"Why didn't you call for me?" He growled deeply removing his fist from the wall and walking over to you.

You flinched slightly walking backwards until you were against the wall. Even though the Adeptus was quite small in height you still had to look up at him. And even if he was small it didn't excuse the fact that he was still quite terrifying. You were afraid to speak in fear and angering him further.

"Well?" He asked again, this time glaring down at you. He was going to force you to answer him.

"B-because I didn't need to," it was true, you were perfectly fine on your own, sure you got a little hurt but it was nothing to cry over, and it certainly wasn't worth all the fuss he was creating. But you just couldn't bring yourself to say anything.

"You got hurt (Y/N)! You should have called for me." His heart was racing and his fists shook. You were starting to get really upset with him now.

"I'm not weak Xiao!" Your voice slightly raised in agitation. Xiao's eyes flickered darkly for a moment.

"No, you are weak!" He hadn't meant it in a literal sense but due to lack of context you took it the wrong way, any form of fight you had in you diminished as your eyes teared up.

Xiao was caught off guard, seeing you begin to cry made his chest hurt. And it was his fault which made him feel even worse. He wasn't used to all this but he figured he better start leaning...and quick, if he wanted to prevent you from leaving him.

You turned to leave but he caught your hand.

"Let go of me," you tried to wrench yourself free.

"No, listen to me," regret was evident in his voice, but you only shook your head.

"So you can call me weak again?" You sniffled.

Xiao's voice caught in his throat, he wanted to explain to you, but he was afraid of saying something wrong again. But now was the time to try.

"(Y/N)," his voice was a lot softer compared to before, "I didn't mean you're weak in a sense that you can't look after yourself, I meant that you are a human, and your body is fragile," his grip on your hand loosened, "a simple cold is enough to kill you, never mind being attacked and sustaining injuries...I guess what I'm trying to say is, that I'm worried about you." He wasn't looking at you when you turned at him.

You could see his ears have turned red, it must've taken a lot for him to admit that. Hearing his explanation made you feel at ease, his previous temperament like a distant memory.

"You know Xiao, you could've just said so," you teased slipping your hand into his, intertwining your fingers.

Xiao looked up at you, surprised by the sudden touch but he didn't recoil from you, instead it drew him closer. So close you could feel his breath against your lips. Now it was your turn to blush. You stared at each other for some time before his gaze dropped to your lips for only a brief moment before looking into your eyes again. You smiled gently at his implication.

"If you want to kiss me, just do it," you whispered softly before placing your lips against his in a soft meaningful kiss.

It was your first kiss with the Adeptus and it was everything you could have ever wanted and Xiao felt the same. When you pulled away you smiled with a blush but it didn't last long before Xiao's lips were against yours again, a bit harder this time, you let out a soft hum. He continued to kiss you leaving you breathless.

"X-Xiao?" You panted softly.

"You said if I wanted to kiss you, I should just do it, so I am." This was all he said before he was upon you again. Giving you endless kisses.

#genshin x reader #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #zhongli x reader #xiao x reader #genshin impact #diluc ragnvindr #kaeya alberich #zhongli #xiao #x reader #genshin imagines #genshin scenarios

[sukirichi]

earned it [07]

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it. But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins. He also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

cw. explicit smut, pool sex, slight angst, i miss naoya :(, mafia business, mentions of blood, lots of drama, mentions of death and murder

note. IDEK ANYMORE. lmao anyways do you guys want faster updates or do you guys want to wait? i can finish the series next week and then we can move on to white lies 😈

series masterlist

The three of you were seated back at your tables, where the whole dancing fiasco had thankfully ended. Satoru noticed nothing of your behavior – either he was really clueless, or you were a damn good actor – the guy was much too invested with the files Nanami was currently showing.

For a moment, you let yourself loosen as you took a deep breath. The account was much more important than whatever Nanami was scheming.

“I think I may have found where the real money is, or treasure, we should say, since none of us can really figure out what the Zen’ins might be hiding. And from the looks of it, considering Naoya had no idea about what his family kept prior to his death, this is something only his elders wanted to know about,” Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose, sliding a photo of an unsuspecting white manor that you hadn’t seen in a long time. “And it’s been right under our nose the whole time.”

“That’s one of our islands,” you replied with a furrowed brow, “Are you saying you traced the source back there? But that’s impossible, we haven’t used that island for years and even Naoya told me he was going to sell it because it was of no use to us. It’s not on commercial waters and there’s no local people around either. That island is in the middle of nowhere.”

“This is exactly why it’s the best place to hide things – because no one would ever suspect this seemingly harmless middle of nowhere could contain their assets.”

Satoru, who’d kept silent the whole time, inched closer to you. His cologne wafting off to you eased you for a moment – purely because it was familiar – and even though you despised saying it, you were thankful he was here. Currently, the blond man posed a bigger threat, the difference being that Nanami actually had leverage against you while you had more control over Satoru.

You sighed. If Naoya was here, things would’ve been so much better. He never lost his composure in figuring things out on his own. But now that he was gone, now that he’d never be coming back, you had be responsible for his sake, but mostly for yours.

“Take a look at this. The nearest land is a small, uncharted city from Brazil’s outskirts. I’ve been illegally transporting weaponry and firearms somewhere near there since our family started the business – it’s the easiest place to sneak in things without getting caught. All you need to do is pay a few fishermen and they’ll easily transport our load from one place to another, no questions asked,” Satoru announced, seemingly deep in thought as he rubbed his chin. “It would make sense if the Zen’in clan elders found this place useful too. It’s basically a hot site for criminals.”

“But we don’t operate this way. The Zen’in elders are too prideful to handle transactions like this. They would’ve chosen a more…discreet yet formal way of handling things.”

“How does an underwater passage sound?” Nanami pushed the other photo aside to reveal a blurry snap of what seemed like a tunnel under the sea. On the surface, it looked just like an abandoned rig, but it stretched too long, the exterior already covered in mold and seaweed. “About 80 years ago, the Zen’in Clan leader at that time was often heavily targeted by their enemies in business that they preferred to travel under the sea. If my theory is correct, right under that island would be another base of some sort that allows the clan leaders move from one country to another while remaining undetected.”

“So that’s how they easily sent their own shit overseas…”

“It would be a very sound conclusion to assume so,” Nanami crossed his arms at Satoru’s musings, “However, that’s all I know. All I can tell you is where I last got the signal for the source – which is about seven years ago, and a few months right after Toji Zen’in was disowned by his family when Naobito took over. It would also be near around the time he met his wife and had his child, which would increase the possibilities that he may have stored something in this island for his son’s future. Again, it could be money, gold – we don’t really know,” he nodded your way, a sense of finality behind those blue eyes that had now looked so menacing when once it brought you comfort – reassurance. “How you get there is all up to you.”

Something didn’t feel right.

“If the elders really wanted to hide this place, they wouldn’t have passed the rights of the island into my inheritance when Naoya died. They surely wouldn’t have wanted me to find out about this.”

“I could think of two things,” Satoru proposed, “It’s either they trust your potential enough as the clan leader to replace Naoya, or they didn’t think you’d care anyway.”

You let his words sink in. The clan elders have never bothered much with you. They were too prideful about “saving face” and “keeping up images” that they couldn’t even let a word of insult slip past their lips under the belief they were above that. But you weren’t stupid; they had never approved of your marriage to Naoya. An outsider like you, suddenly becoming a part of their family when they could’ve had your husband marry a family friend?

They may have kept silent about their dislike to you, but one way or another, they were going to take action for it.

Knowing the Zen’ins, being a Zen’in, you knew there was one thing they hated the most: not being in control.

“Neither,” you finally concluded while mumbling down at your lap. The theory was hazy, incomplete, based only on mere emotions but slowly, you were coming together to piece it. You felt Satoru turn your way, his large hand caressing your knee as if coaxing the words out of you. “It’s neither. Naoya’s elders…they never liked me. It’s been made pretty clear to me that I’m dispensable without my husband, and I will never be a Zen’in in their eyes. I wouldn’t be surprised if they asked me to give up all my inheritance from Naoya because I’m not related to them by blood.”

The silence in the table stretched.

No matter how grandiose the hotel restaurant may be, you felt suffocated in that seat. How didn’t you realize it sooner? You were in a land that stretched past your territory, with both men accompanying you people you couldn’t wholeheartedly trust, while your husband rotted away back at home – probably covered in dust and not even given a proper burial like he deserved.

There was only one way out of this, to put an end to everything. It would prove to be a daunting task, but you didn’t have a choice. No, in fact, this was your only choice if you wanted to survive.

Satoru’s voice softened upon seeing the grimness of how you turned mum. “I’ll follow you wherever you go. I promise to help you in finding out whatever is in there,” he met your eyes; yours filled with contempt, with fear, with desperation, and his filled with regret. “It’s the least I could do…after everything I’ve done to you.”

You took a deep breath.

You couldn’t lie to yourself. There was no way you could trust him with his empty promises. He’d shown enough times that he wasn’t a man of his word, and you’d be a fool to fall for it again. However, Nanami’s glance was curious and suspecting, hiding his true colors with an innocent gesture of sipping his wine. He may seem unbothered and only here to ‘help’, but this man was cunning, possibly more so than Naoya could ever be, and one wrong move would be similar to stepping on a land mine.

Satoru received no response from you, and soon the three of you were standing outside the hotel’s lobby to escort Nanami back where he came from. The dinner was tense, so much so that you’d unknowingly been clutching Satoru’s bicep the whole time.

He tapped your shoulder, bringing you back to life as he gestured to his phone. “Sorry, it’s Geto.”

“Oh,” you muttered and stepped away from him, feeling your heart sink in your chest as you watched him retreat behind the glass doors. Beside you, Nanami snickered.

“Made up your mind, agent?” he taunted, “This is your final chance to prove yourself. Gather enough intel for us to intrude whatever that mighty clan is hiding underneath that island, surrender Gojo to us, and we’ll give you everything as promised.”

You faced him with fiery eyes, prepared for whatever he’d throw your way when he showed you that cursed red coin again. Realizing its power, the true meaning it held, you immediately shut your lips. It must’ve satisfied to know he was the one in charge here, and how could he not be when your life was literally at the palm of his hands, your days growing more numbered if you didn’t follow everything he asked for?

If you had just…if you had just done everything the Organization had asked you for, you wouldn’t have been here. You wouldn’t have felt this torn.

Nanami flipped the coin before tucking it into his pocket, sending one last salute your way. He hailed a cab and disappeared afterwards, leaving you alone to ponder over the consequences of your actions, your emotions. For the first time in his life, Naoya had lied to you.

He wasn’t correct when he said you were strong.

Because after all this time, you still held onto something that you should’ve let go of a long time ago, and you had nothing but your weak, sensitive, hopeless heart to blame for. Said hurdle appeared not long afterwards, his touch warm on your shoulder as he gazed at the empty spot beside you.

“Oh, Nanami left,” he noted, turning your shoulders to him until you were completely exposed. There was no more hiding from him, or more like you didn’t have enough energy to. You felt dull, tiredness lining your eyes and lips pressed into a flat line. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

Ten days. That was how much you’ve wasted your time here in Milan, and you weren’t even remotely close to figuring things out. Your resources were much more limited the farther you were from the Zen’in Estate, and your lawyer was a family one, meaning they held more loyalty to the actual Zen’ins instead of law-affiliated people like you were.

Simply put, you were all alone to solve this by yourself.

Satoru promised to help, but he kept disappearing in the morning along with Geto. You never asked where they went or what they did; it simply didn’t matter anymore.

You would only spend hours locked in your room as you researched everything you could on your private island near Brazil. Just like Satoru said, it seemed like the perfect place to hide things for the spot seemed remote enough to offer privacy for the family’s getaway. You could somewhat recall Naoya proposing once to take you there for your honeymoon, but business got in the way, and it wasn’t like you truly trusted him then to spend such an intimate with him that you said no.

Sighing, you put all the papers away. Not even a single clue led you to what could be possibly be there, but there was an underwater passage. The fact the Zen’ins was capable of building that made you wonder just what the extent of their powers and influence stretched to, and you contemplated for a bit if you could hold that same ability now that you had his name.

Whatever was there, you would look for it.

Your mission was clear – the success of it would determine the fate of your life. Find out what they’re hiding, surrender Satoru Gojo to the Organization, and then everything would be over.

It sounded simple, yet your heart knew it wasn’t. Naoya died with the confidence of his trust over you, the trust you worked so hard to earn. But wasn’t that point? You needed him to trust you for you to be able to pull this mission off, but things happened, emotions and conscience got in the way, and you banged your knuckles on the table until your ring throbbed on your finger.

You just wanted it all to end. You never meant to hurt Naoya, never meant to betray anyone, but it fucking pissed you off that Naoya wasn’t the real problem. He wasn’t the one holding you back.

With not much thought to your next actions, you slipped past the guards and into the pool that had long been closed since 10PM. Being at your room’s tub reminded you of memories you’d rather forget, and you slowly undid your robe and stepped out of your underwear before dipping in the cold, freezing water.

It felt good. It may have been temporary, but the numbing bite of the water helped you feel more placated. Even for a little while, it was nice to not worry about anything. There were no titles, no mafia drama, no anything, just you and the water that you would’ve easily fooled yourself to be simply enjoying your little trip in Milan until –

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere. You had me worried sick,” You sighed. Of course. Opening your eyes, you raised a brow as Satoru towered over you, a standard hotel towel in his arms. He’d change out of his suit and into cotton shorts and a shirt this time around, possibly on his way to sleep when he realized the room was empty. With no energy to deal with him, you swam away from the man, earning a groan in response. “What the hell is your problem? You’ve been acting weird ever since Nanami came. Listen, if this is about that island, you don’t have to worry too much about anything. I have enough people and resources to help you in every step of the way.”

You ignored him. After everything that happened, what was there to talk about anymore? Even if you told him everything, he might not understand.

So you swam in the middle of the pool, thankful that it was dark enough from the maintenance shutting the lights off that Satoru struggled to find you. However, you’d underestimated him because soon you heard the splashing of the water, and you were harshly tugged by the wrist before Satoru cornered you at the edge of the pool.

He was breathing hard; both of you were, and tried to push past his chest, only to be met with a solid plane of muscle that wouldn’t budge. You sighed and turned away from him, covering your exposed chest with your arms.

“Whatever Naoya is looking for…you’ll find it, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“I’m serious,” the scorn in his tone had been so biting you turned back to him, about to hit him with something, scold him for something, but your words died down in your throat before you even had the chance to.

Satoru hadn’t been demanding. His face, illuminated by the moonlight, made his azure eyes twinkle like stardust exploding. Once in your life, you found so much comfort into staring at such beauty, but that was when everything was still a perfect lie. Funny how the truth ruined everything for its darkness, and you could only look back at him weakly, throat running dry from all the emotions that threatened to pour out of you.

Regret and desperation was written all over his face.

“Please,” he rested his forehead on yours, eyes closed as he mumbled, “You’re not alone in this. I don’t want to ask for much because I know I don’t deserve it, but please at least understand you don’t have to solve everything on your own. You’re not…you’re not alone. I’m here now.”

“When you left me,” your voice cracked, “It’s because you thought I wouldn’t love you anymore if I found out your true nature,” Satoru opened his eyes, anxiety swimming in those eyes that had once been so sweet. Perhaps he still held that sweetness now, albeit it was less tender and more cautious as he waited for you to continue. “If I told you about every sin I’ve committed, the name of each person I killed and everything I’ve done, would you stay with me? Or would you leave me again, only this time it’s because you think I’m no longer someone you could love?”

“I don’t understand.”

“I didn’t expect you to,” was all you said before you felt a tear prick the back of your eyes. You didn’t want him to see, god, you wanted to disappear in that moment you couldn’t think of anything else. Crashing your lips to his, you brought him down by the back of his neck to hide the tears freely falling from your face.

He froze for a split second before he eagerly pushed back, clenching the pool edges with his hands so hard his knuckles turned white. You were panting, moaning in his mouth as he pressed you harder against the edge, skin to skin, breath to breath, soul to soul.

Threading your hands to his hair, you grinded down on his shorts where he was already beginning to grow hard. Satoru groaned inside your mouth from your teasing but made no move to stop to – after all, why would he want to stop? It had been years, seven fucking years, and even you wouldn’t want to stop. It was wrong, it was dirty, it was immoral – but you needed this. You needed this more than ever.

Satoru’s hands tickled your waist as he squeezed them harsher than he intended, his calloused fingers travelling until he was kneading your breasts. You pulled away from him, head thrown back to rest on the edge.

And it was romantic.

The moon had never been so big, sprinkles of star shining in the vast darkness, the scene just perfect for two lovers in a getaway from the harshness of life. You knew it wasn’t real and the spell would break sooner than later, but did it matter? He rolled your beaded nipples into his fingers before he ducked down, lips suctioned to suck heavy bruises on the sensitive patch of skin on your neck that had you twitching in his hold.

Along with your moans, you cried harder. From heartbreak, from regret, from guilt; there was no turning back from this.

“Satoru, please, please, please. Make me feel better, make me feel good, I just want to forget everything.”

He nodded eagerly against your neck, letting your eager hands help him push his shorts down before his cock sprang free. His length grazed your lower abdomen for a moment, though he didn’t waste any time in entering your hole. You gritted your teeth at the intrusion, nails dug so hard in his shoulders that he bled.

The both of you had your foreheads connected, noses brushing and breaths mixing as you moaned and he sighed, eyes shut tight from finally being engulfed in your warmth.

“Right there, ‘Toru, oh fuck.”

“F-fuck,” he hitched one of your legs to wrap around his waist, “You’re still so tight after all this time,” Satoru praised, molding his lips with yours once again. He picked up his pace and watched as you desperately clung from one surface to another – his shoulders, his hair, the edge of the pool, flailing your arms each time his deep thrusts knocked the wind out of you – breasts bouncing as he bounced you on his cock.

“You look so fucking beautiful – my sweet, sweet angel. I missed you, missed you so fucking much.”

You didn’t say anything. No words were needed to be exchanged; actions spoke louder than words. At least right now, you could promise you wouldn’t lie.

Pulling him down for another kiss, you bit down on his bottom lip to muffle your moans, too speechless at each movement of his dick grazing past your walls. Fuck, he still felt so good, still knew your body way too well and your pussy hugged him so tight like you didn’t ever want to let go.

But you knew you had to, even as he came inside you and brought you back to your room, uncaring of the dripping mess you’ve both made before he locked the door.

You forgot how many hours you spent underneath him writhing in his bed. He took you each way he wanted – knees folded beside your head, on your side where he whispered all the filthy things he’d been wanting to do to you while he took you from behind, or your head squished on the pillow as he repeatedly smacked your ass, pulling your ass cheeks apart to praise you on how you took him so well. Satoru didn’t stop; you knew what you were getting into the moment you pulled him into you, that his sex drive was insane and he’d take long to tire himself out.

By the time the first shy fingertips of the sunlight extending across the horizon arrived, you were emptily staring at the window, Satoru fast asleep beside you.

It was time.

Silently, you pulled his arm away from you and quickly got dressed. He seemed to still be deep in slumber, and you carried the only bag previously packed with everything you might need. You were on the process of wearing your stilettos when he stirred awake, sleepily eyeing you from the bed you both devoted yourselves to in pleasuring one another.

“Where are you going?”

“Away,” you answered, tight-lipped. “From you.”

“Why?”

“Because…I lied,” you inhaled sharply, gloved hands frozen on the golden knobs.

Just open it, you screamed at yourself, walk away before it’s too late.

But you couldn’t move, pathetic that even after everything Naoya had worked so hard for, you still remained a slave to your past.

“No matter how much I hate everything you’ve done to me, I can’t bring myself to forget I once loved you. Maybe I still do – I don’t know. But what I do know is that I’m not as strong as I thought I was,” you cried, losing grip on the bag before it fell. You watched emptily as all the contents poured out – your money, your clothes, your phone, your ring – it all served as a reminder of who you were, of who you’d forgotten to be, of who you were supposed to be.

Your shoulders slumped in defeat.

“I don’t have enough strength to kill you.”

“Hey, angel,” he cooed, reaching you in three long strides before he caged you in his arms. Satoru was so warm, so strong, and the safety he provided you with only made you cry harder. You wanted to hate him, wanted to keep lying yourself since you’d been doing a great job at doing that for the past seven years, but it wasn’t that easy. Deep down…you still harbored the most miniscule affection, and that enough was capable of destroying you.

“What’s wrong?”

“Everything,” you whispered brokenly as you banged a weak fist to his chest, “Everything is wrong.”

Finavice Pharmaceuticals didn’t disappoint.

You were beyond impressed the moment you stepped through the door, a horde of eager chemists guiding you through the upper floors. Finavice was one of the biggest – if not the biggest – companies that were known for harboring the rarest or hard to get elements that not even you and Naoya could get your hands on.

Not by yourselves, anyway, so you took it upon yourself to strike a sponsorship to their research program in developing a cure to cancer under the guise of being an advocate to the improvement of the medical field.

Truthfully, you just wanted to please Naoya, show him you were useful and that he didn’t need to kill you. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and there you were, your prettiest smile plastered on as you scanned the towering buildings with unmasked interest.

“Here is the laboratory for the Finavice Pharmaceuticals where we test…”

“Mrs. Zen’in?”

The entire team stopped as a tall man, cloaked in a beige suit instead of a lab coat appearhed out of nowhere. Judging by how everyone had ducked their heads down and turned silent, you could only guess he must be the boss. Flashing your most charming smile, you hitched your bag higher up your arm. “Yes?”

“May I have a word with you?”

You fought the urge to sigh. His question was spoken much more of a statement that you weren’t really given a room to decline, and the young chemists gazed at you curiously under their lashes.

Not wanting to create a commotion that would lead into unwanted attention, you nodded, following the man through a set of double doors, guarded by two heavily armed men from the outside.

The man, who was Kento Nanami, the founder of Finavice himself leaned back into his seat as he made himself comfortable. “So you signed a contract with us two weeks ago to partner on our latest medicine, am I right? I’ve read over your proposals and I must say, they are rather interesting and innovative. I didn’t expect that a businessman’s wife would be a chemist who is interested in expanding to the pharmaceuticals as well. The Zen’ins has never been much invested in that.”

Gladly accepting the tea he’d slid your way, you made sure to clink the teaspoon against the porcelain as you played along. “People change, Mr. Kento. My husband and I’s goals are rather different from their former, traditional ones. Surely, steel exchange couldn’t support us for the rest of our lives.”

“I can’t say no to that. Kudos to you and your husband for your rather…ambitious shared goals then.”

Your hand froze on the utensil, and you narrowed your eyes at him in warning. “Are you implying we should not have trusted you with this, Mr. Kento?”

“No, I am merely letting you know that your act won’t fool me,” he chuckled, leaning forwards to rest his chin on his clasped knuckles, his blue eyes growing dark and serious. “I know what you and your husband’s family does. The Organization knows a lot more about your actions than you think you know we do. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re only here because we’re the only company who has access to an element you need for your drug, isn’t that the case, Mrs. Zen’in?”

Well…this was certainly unexpected. You’ve been effortlessly deceiving countless businessmen, government leaders and officials even, that this took you by your surprise. Two could play at this game.

Even if he saw through you long ago, it wouldn’t take much to grab his letter opener that was right beside you and puncture it through a jugular vein. If his guards came, you could easily take them down too. Today was one of those few moments you were thankful for Naoya’s hellish training.

But you didn’t want him to feel satisfied, so you leaned back into your seat and crossed your leg over the other.

“If you knew this whole time, why didn’t you kill me already? A lot of people wouldn’t miss the chance to do so.”

Nanami chuckled. “It’s because like you, I’m not just a pioneer. I, too, have my goals and loyalty laid out for someone else. Most specifically, the Organization, an international collaborative effort of stopping and reducing mafia movement for the safety of our people. Obviously, I’ve been assigned in the Yakuza Division, and it’s no coincidence I read through your file. You are, after all, one of our precious targets.”

You stared at him boredly. Why couldn’t he just get straight to the point?

“Is this a threat? I’m not sure it’s working.”

“Oh, no, I’m not threatening you,” he snatched your tea and took a long sip from it, and it was the first time you learned of his habit of concealing his curious gaze through drinking; a perfect act to seem inconspicuous.

“I am offering you a path to redemption. You may fool everyone, but I know an unhappy woman when I see one, Mrs. Zen’in, and I can tell you find no pleasure in the life you live – running errands for your criminal husband, constantly fearing for your life, wishing you’d just been a regular person like everyone else…” At the lack of response, he took it a gesture for him to continue, and he set the cup down, pushing his glasses right back up his nose. “The Organization has labeled you a target, but I think you’re more of a victim caught in a series of unfortunate events. I merely wish to save you from it.”

You guffawed in laughter at his last statement.

“You men really are ridiculous!” you slapped your palm on his table, losing every bit of that elegant composure to be perfected by a Zen’in wife. “Always preaching about saving me and protecting me – what actually are you pathetic losers even capable of?”

Much to your dismay, Nanami didn’t seem the least bit affected by your mockery.

“Please, don’t group me in with your husband and your former lover. Unlike them, I harbor no interest in you as a woman, I only want to fulfill my duty as an Agent and save you not because you’re a damsel in distress, but rather because…I could kill two birds with one stone,” his eyes shone in mischief, and you swallowed in discomfort as he gazed you up and down.

You’ve had enough experience with being seen as a meal, but this was different. Nanami was viewing you like you were a secret weapon he intended on using as much as he could to achieve his goals.

“You are a very convenient woman, Mrs. Zen’in. Similar to how your husband adores your abilities, I would like to take advantage of your connections. The only difference between me and them is that I can actually give you something money can’t even buy.”

“Such as?”

“A second chance at a normal life.”

“What makes you think I’ll accept your offer? I’m the wife of a mafia leader – my loyalty resides in him.”

“Only because you fear for your life,” he flashed you a red coin, crescents of a Latin quote scripted inside. Mori quam foedari – death before dishonor.

“Join the Organization, Y/N. With your connections, we could easily take down these families and protect the country. Hand over Satoru Gojo and Naoya Zen’in to us, and I promise the Organization will do everything in its power to give you the life you always wanted. A safe, normal one. No more worrying about being killed as you ride your car, no more beating yourself up as you make drugs to promise your usefulness to your husband and no more pretending you are someone who you’re not,” he flipped the coin between his fingers, and tantalized, you couldn’t keep your eyes off it. “Don’t you want that? You’d be able to live freely if you cooperate with us.”

You could hear the gears in your head turning. Part of you would’ve assumed this was a trap had you not known better, but Naoya taught you that if something was a trap, it would sound too easy, too good.

None of this was easy. It would require facing a demon from your past and handling things differently than what Naoya had planned, but that wasn’t the worst.

It was the fact that if you accepted, you’d have to come home tonight and lie in the face of your husband who could easily read through you. He smelled lies and treachery before you could realize you were even thinking of doing something, and knowing Naoya, he wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet between your eyes the instant he felt something was off.

But his offer… it was a risk you had to take. You wouldn’t ever get an opportunity like this again.

“Do you promise…that I’ll really go back to normal after this? That I won’t be involved in this mess anymore?”

“I can only promise that if you also promise to do your part. You see, I strongly believe you are the one that can put an end to this all. All you have to do is join us, and soon it’ll feel like this nightmare never happened at all. You’ll be free from Naoya Zen’in and Gojo Satoru before you realize it.”

You stared at his coin harder. Death before dishonor. This Organization he was a part of obviously didn’t fuck around, and it seemed scarier because they had their eyes on you for a while now. What were the odds they offered a deal instead of outright killing you, even going as far as to provide you a second chance at life, one that you genuinely wanted to enjoy? It would be a shame to say no, and even if the chances of this turning out well were low, you would damn well take it. A small chance was better than nothing.

“What do I have to do?”

Nanami grinned and pocketed his coin. “A very wise decision, Mrs. Zen’in,” he congratulated, “Please, meet me at my office tomorrow, eight on the dot. Oh, and remember, the Organization will now be watching you wherever you go. You’re one of us now.”

The next day, Nanami had cut your palm.

He spilled your blood into an empty metal casing with engraved letters, mori quam foedari, the phrase both comforting and ominous. Soon, you came home with your blood solidified into a coin to prove your membership and loyalty, that they quite owned you in more ways than one. Your blood meant your loyalty, and the coin felt heavy in your pocket with the implication it was also your blood they wouldn’t hesitate to spill should you betray them.

Mori quam foedari.

Death before dishonor.

Your life over Naoya’s, your future over Gojo’s.

The next few days had been tense. After telling Satoru everything down from the smallest detail, things had shifted between you. Quite frankly, you expected that maybe he’d kill you right then and there after explicitly stating that just because you couldn’t kill him, didn’t mean you wouldn’t turn him in.

“Angel,” he begged, “Will you never really give me the chance to do everything right this time around?”

However, you were too firm on your plans. You originally wanted to leave and go to the island yourself; it was easier to leave Satoru open and vulnerable for the Organization to attack him in your absence. He loved you, that was much clear, and if he looked for you, he’d make himself vulnerable to the Organization, but recent plans had to be altered now that he wasn’t willing to let go of you. Though no matter what he said, you valued your life and future more than you could ever love him.

It was an act of kindness to yourself.

“I don’t want this life anymore, Satoru. Either way, I don’t have a choice, not when I could die literally anytime before I could even say goodbye.”

It had been hours since ‘that’ talk and now you were on a plane back to Tokyo. You had to pull out some archives from Naoya’s files to know more about the island before you could visit it, and it was important for Satoru to know details such as security measures over there.

You’d long fallen asleep from exhaustion, bundled up in a fleece blanket while Geto glared at you.

“Are you sure about this, Sir? I think we should just keep her with us even if she doesn’t want to. The Gojo clan is powerful enough that no one would dare cross us. Not even this Organization she speaks of has ever done anything to us. Without her, they stand no chance against us,” he sat in front his boss and kept sending wary glances your way. “Letting her go like you did before wasn’t a good idea. She knows too much about everyone to live normally now. Do you really believe the Organization will protect her?”

“Knowing the strings the government could pull – and add on to the fact Nanami Kento, one of the richest men in this country works for them that it’s safe to assume each figure in them is a powerhouse – I don’t doubt their promise one bit.”

“But you’ll go to jail if you let her surrender you. Or worse, they’ll destroy the clan from the bottom up.”

“I know that, Geto.”

Geto groaned, brushing his hands through his hair from how indifferent his boss was being, drinking champagne as if he wasn’t willingly walking into his own death. “Then why aren’t you thinking more clearly about this? I understand you love her and you want to make it up to her, but we can’t let her do whatever she pleases! In order to keep herself safe, she’s going to sacrifice you! She’s dangerous, Sir, she’s been lying to her husband the whole time and who’s to say she isn’t capable of doing something worse to a stranger like you?”

“I told you already, Geto,” Satoru swirled the pink liquid in his flute, his face empty and unreadable. “I know.”

“With all due respect, Sir, I don’t agree with your decision. The clan would fall without you and you don’t have siblings or an heir. No one is powerful to hold the clan together aside from you so if you leave – there’s no more hope for us,” he sighed when Satoru didn’t budge. “I at least want you to reconsider your actions. She’s just a woman, Sir. It’s either we kill her or we imprison her. You let her go before because you believed she would be your downfall, and quite frankly, it’s happening all over again.”

Satoru gazed out the window, bringing the flute to his lips with a dark glint in his eye that Geto recognized meant trouble, or worse, an actual solution to this hellish situation.

“Which is why we’re going to pay an old friend a visit, Geto. There’s only one person who could turn the tables around.”

ADDITIONAL NOTE: TOJI IS COMING SOON!!! what are your theories on what might be on that island and *drum roll* WHO IS GOJO’S OLD FRIEND?! 

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[imagining-in-the-margins]

Here to Misbehave (Finale | S.R.)

Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Finale |

Summary: It’s Halloween, and there are a lot of things on Spencer’s mind.

A/N: Here it is, everyone: the end of the story. Thank you so much to everyone who’s read this far. I greatly appreciate all of you, and I hope you enjoy it!   Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Fluff/Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Penetrative sex, light D/s, mostly fluff! Word Count: 7.5k

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Autumn has widely been considered the season of change. It is an understandable characterization; from the shifting hues of the leaves to the wildly fluctuating temperatures, few things stayed consistent in the fall. Perhaps that’s why someone who loathes change, someone like me, finds the season so thrilling.

It’s like the Earth and the Sun made a pact to make changes more predictable in their own unique, chaotic way. The breeze becomes biting and the days become shorter, but for these downfalls, we are granted a beauty and calmness that can’t be rivaled by any other season.

But she wasn’t a season, and when it came to my attention and appreciation, there were few choices that were easier to make.

“Spencer. You’ve got to be kidding me.”

(Y/n)’s face was half covered by the cup she held tightly with both hands, but I could picture the hidden expression perfectly, regardless.

“What? We don’t have to agree on everything.”

The truce was received poorly, her response a heavy scoff and a shake of her head. I tried to follow along with her suddenly heated words but couldn’t contain the stars in my eyes that often accompanied my daydreams. If she did notice, she stubbornly ignored the adoration to continue, “I understand you’re a genius or whatever, but I think your opinions on cider and cocoa are... wrong. They are wrong.”

It was my turn to feign displeasure (I hoped hers wasn’t real, anyway), clutching tighter to my own drink that I found myself defending on a park bench with dozens of strangers as an audience.

“An opinion can’t be wrong!” I chirped, only hating the way my voice jumped a little bit. After all, it was hard to hate it when it made her giggle. But despite how much sweeter the liquid seemed when I drank it in the presence of her smile, I also knew that she wouldn’t appreciate my immediate agreement. So, I pushed back just a little, “It can be misguided or ignorant but not outright wrong.”

“Unless it’s yours, on this topic,” she shot back without hesitation.

I tried to flash her a pout, hoping that maybe it would work for me like it did for her. It did not. Her eyebrows shot up and her jaw dropped open with another laugh, and I decided that I preferred that outcome, anyway. The longer my bottom lip stuck out, the wider her smile got. I waited to stop until her eyes closed and turned away, just long enough for me to let the full force of my affection show before she noticed.

She saw it, anyway, in the form of a similar smile spread over my face when I softly admitted, “Fine. You’re right.”

“Oh, I know.”

Her tongue peeked between her lips, and I found myself thinking less of cider and cocoa and more about how unbelievably lucky I was to find someone that I never felt the need to prove anything to. A person that didn’t care if I held all the answers.

I might’ve continued down that sappy train of thought, but it was hard to do while she had hoisted herself halfway over the table to try and grab hold of my cup right as I went to drink from it. Of course, she had failed to take into account just how big the table was, and just how close I was willing to come to falling before I let her drink from my cup right after she’d criticized my preference of fall flavors.

For a second, I really thought she might climb onto the table to win, but the judgmental looks from the parents in the park must have beaten her desire to win. As forlorn as humanly possible, she fell back into her seat with a loud “Hmph!” which really only managed to elicit an equally immature giggle from me.

“Shut up,” she laughed before shoving my paper plate further into my chest, “And eat your stupid pie.”

All I could think as she grabbed my fork and stabbed the middle of the piece to try to lift the entire thing at once, was that I was right about one thing: Autumn, in all its vitality and beauty, could still never compare to her.

That thought persisted through the pumpkin patch, growing in intensity as she skipped through the vine-laden path like a regular fall fairy. It was much easier to get lost in her there, crouched and inspecting foliage. Her arguments regarding gourds were much less spirited, with her watching me wide-eyed and curious as I explained the stages of pumpkin growth and all the different uses for the fruit.

I still let her make the final choices, opting to analyze her selections and tease her for them later, instead. That was the plan, anyway, to continue the competitiveness lest she gets bored with me before the day was over. When she walked past me holding open the passenger side door, I thought it might’ve already happened.

But then she just placed the pumpkin into my hands so she could open the back door. Before I could even move, she carefully removed it from my arms again and placed it in the seat.

“What are you doing?” I said through a very amused chuckle.

She was decidedly not entertained by my confusion, stopping to turn to me with a bored, frustrated expression. “I’m buckling him in,” she explained slowly, like I might need the help. Then, to add insult to silly injury, she added, “Duh.”

I was too distracted by the details to tackle the absurdity of it all.

“Him? It’s a boy pumpkin?”

“Obviously. Look at him,” she snorted, finally clicking the seatbelt in before tenderly petting the top of the lucky little gourd. Once she was convinced it would be as safe as she could make it, she allowed me to begin to escort her into her proper seat.

“You know it’s safer on the floor, right?” I asked before she’d slipped past me. I wrapped an arm around her, pulling her away from the car so I could enjoy the warmth of her before it was replaced with the dry air of the engine.

“How dare you,” she balked with an open mouth that was just begging to be kissed. By the time I got close enough to try, though, her hand fervently shoved my cheek away. I tried to laugh, but she used the same hand to cover the noise, trying and failing to convince me she was being serious.

“Why don’t you just hold him?” I mumbled against her palm.

That was enough for her to abandon my embrace altogether. With a scoff and a roll of her eyes, she pried my arms off of her and finally made her way to my passenger seat. I didn’t fight her too hard, even taking the time to shut her door like my mother always insisted.

The mercy was not returned, with her eyes narrowed into a playful disbelieving glare that I hadn’t seen in some time. My mind was brought back to the first time she ever let me know she was jealous, bickering over blondes and preferences while she sat in the very same place. And, just as before, she was still wearing the same raggedy old sweatshirt of mine.

“If this is any indication of how you’ll be with a human baby, I have dramatically overestimated your competence,” she droned, obviously unaffected by the stars that appeared in my eyes every time I looked at her.

“The one and only time you’ll ever be able to say those words. I hope you enjoyed it,” I joked. A funny enough joke that she couldn’t help but smile through her facade.

“Don’t worry,” she chuckled, “I did.”

The day could have ended there, and it would have been enough. Honestly, I couldn’t think of a single thing that wouldn’t be better with her there. In a way, I think we were trying to prolong the high of ‘hooky,’ finding even the faintest interest in an activity as enough of an excuse for a detour.

… Which was probably how we found ourselves in our third park of the day. After all, I loved any autumnal vision, so how could I decline an opportunity to let them serve as a backdrop for watching her? And that was an accurate description of how I spent the day. It might sound boring, and if it were anyone else, it probably would have been. But no matter how often I saw her, I found myself learning new things about her every single time. Each freckle and scar became a part of the high-definition collection of memories that I would never let myself forget. The most beautiful images that kept me sane in the face of evil and filth.

“Do you see that?”

For a moment, I thought she might have read my mind. But then I realized that her eyes were still fixed forward, stuck on the horizon ahead of us.

“See what?”

“That,” she pointed, “Right there.”

My eyes followed the line, finding nothing but an area of carefully manicured, yellow grass and trees already set to rest for the season. It must have been clear to her that I was lost, because her pointing became more animated and her voice rose as she shouted, “Right there!”

“The giant pile of leaves?”

“Uh-huh.”

Then, in all of my obliviousness, I just sort of stared. Even when her hand grew tighter around mine and her feet started to move faster, I didn’t put two and two together until it was too late.

“What about— No! (Y/n)!” I shouted, cutting off my own train of thought and only barely letting go of her in time to watch her jump straight into the collection of fallen foliage that some poor landscaper had obviously worked hard to gather.

I have to believe that even if that unlucky, underappreciated individual saw what she’d done to their hours of work, that they would forgive her. It was hard to feel anything but joy at the sounds that came from the pile. Yet I approached her cautiously, with both hands in my pockets to avoid the urge to throw myself into danger with her.

“You’re a terror,” I said, settling for a crouched position in front of her. Still able to see her but far enough from her grasp that she had to crawl through a wall of leaves to come nose to nose with me. “This is literally the scariest thing you’ve done all season.”

“Come on in, the water’s fine,” she purred.

As enticing as the offer was, my mind was too preoccupied with statistics of spider and snake bites, not to mention the possibility of ticks still scouring the landscape for any last second hosts. The answer was easy.

“Absolutely not.”

With another exhale of pure displeasure, she threw her body back into the leaves, burying herself into a mess of yellows and reds that somehow only made her look even more beautiful. The chaotic scene matched her energy well, and the harm she was doing was minimal considering I was absolutely going to search every inch of skin for any marks later.

The only thing that was more appealing to me than watching her make an absolute fool out of herself in a pile of leaves was the intense urge to tease her about it. So, taking a regrettable seat on the grass, I sighed, “I think I’m going to have to arrest you for trespassing.”

There was a loud gasp from the center of the pile, followed by a scuffle of flailing limbs among the foliage.

“You don’t own this leaf pile! I do! I am queen of the leaf pile!” she screeched.

“Alright Princess,” I subtly corrected, “whatever you say.”

As promised, I didn’t put up a fight. Even when she finally got a hold of my hands and dragged me into the madness with her. I followed her no matter what nonsense she demanded, just as she had with me so many times. Granted, my desires weren’t nearly as dangerous or strange. They were pretty much just a collection of foreign films and reading that always lulled her to sleep.

But that day there was no sign of her energy waning. The early sun faded and we kept going. I’m not sure how, but she managed to enjoy herself in the D.C. landscape of bars and blaring car horns despite not being able to indulge in anything herself. Although she did half-heartedly attempt to trick me into buying her drinks in several different establishments, I think she was honestly proud that I avoided the drinks altogether. It was a nice reminder that sobriety could be something enjoyed between the two of us, regardless of the environment. However, we didn’t let that stop us from jumping into a crowd of very drunk women who had insisted we join their haunted tour of the city.

“Are you scared?” she whispered into my ear. The feeling of her warm breath against my skin caused a shiver to run down my spine, ruining any credibility I had in my response.

“No. Why would I be scared? It’s just history.”

“Are you sure?” she asked again.

“Yes!” I insisted with the worst possible timing. Because just as soon as the word had left my lips, I felt the distinct sensation of fingers running down my neck and arm opposite to her. I was so convinced that’s what it was that I even spun around with a yelp, crashing into at least three different people just to find a very startled woman with the worst hung scarf I’d ever seen.

(Y/n) had already put two and two together and was lost in an absolute fit of laughter. There were already tears forming in the corners of her eyes as she doubled over, barely able to stand through it all. Because there I was, her 31-year-old FBI agent boyfriend, screaming over a scarf.

“Laugh it up,” I droned. And she did. She kept laughing through any attempts at a response, and after the initial embarrassment wore off, I couldn’t help but join her.

“I hope you know you chose me. You chose this man!” I shouted, gesturing to the people around us who had already forgotten about our shenanigans, “And everyone knows it!”

“I’m sorry I can’t—” she wheezed, pausing to take a necessary breath that was all lost with another bunch of giggles “—You’re a fucking FBI Agent!”

“Well I can’t shoot a ghost, can I?” I mumbled through the hit to my ego. But any suffering was quickly dealt with as she threw dramatic arms around my waist, pulling me close and protecting me from any other errant scarves that might show up.

“I love you so much,” she said.

“I’m glad you’re having fun,” I returned with a quick kiss on her forehead. And even if I implied otherwise, I think she knew that I was having just as good of a time as she was. In fact, it was one of the most relaxing days of my life, which was saying something, considering how much walking was involved.

But no matter how tired we both were, I still had one last place to take her. It took her a while to figure out why the route felt so familiar, but I wasn’t ready to ruin the surprise. I wanted to watch the realization dawn on her. She didn’t disappoint.

“The Mayflower?” she asked with a bit of a bashful laugh before looking up at me through narrowed eyes, “Feeling nostalgic, Dr. Reid?”

“Yeah, a little bit. Thought it was more romantic than the club,” I offered, trying to shrug off the nervous butterflies that burst through my stomach. “Not by much, mind you.”

Although I got the feeling that she didn’t know, or perhaps just didn’t remember, that wonderful night from almost a year ago was one of the most important days of my life. I knew it then, too. From the second I set my eyes on her from my pitiful place against the bar, I knew that she would ruin me.

“Nothing screams high end romance like an alley and a little light law breaking,” she sighed. I almost missed it, too preoccupied with the way her arm tugged me tighter so she could rest her head against my shoulder.

“I can take you home if you’d rather.”

“Hmmm. Depends,” she hummed. Then, turning her head up to me with that playful look that always turned me to putty in her hands, she purred, “How much longer do you think you can wait before you just have to have me?”

I sucked in a sharp, sarcastic breath, eyeing her just long enough for her to start to fume, I let out all the air with a defeated sigh, “I guess we’re staying.”

That serene sort of teasing continued past the reception desk and all the way up the elevator. If there were other people there, we didn’t bother noticing. We were too busy watching one another to even look away long enough to find our room. Doubling back through the dizzying hallways until we found the elusive number, we finally settled into the only vaguely familiar layout of beige and tan.

She was much quicker at it than I was. Before I’d even finished washing my hands and checking exposed skin for bugs that I was convinced had hitched a ride from the leaf pile, she was already stretched out on the bed in nothing but a tiny piece of lacy cotton and her favorite sweatshirt. The sight made me stop, lost for breath and logic of how I was lucky enough to be there with her again.

“See something you like, Dr. Reid?” she teased through giggles, no doubt recalling the same memory as me.

My answer didn’t need to be said, but I said it, anyway. She deserved to hear it.

“Yes.”

With arms outstretched, she sleepily begged, “Come here.”

But I couldn’t.

“Not yet… I just… I want to look at you like this a little bit longer.”

How could I move on from this moment, when it was the best I’d ever felt? So overwhelmingly safe and at home despite being in a strange, sterile room. I had no desire to move any inch of me if it meant that this image would persist for the rest of my days.

“You getting all romantic on me?”

“Always,” I chuckled. Her usual disgust for my sappy behavior didn’t show itself, overpowered by the gentle curve of her lips and hands that were becoming more and more insistent to be held. Eventually, I had to move, knowing that it was the only way to hold her.

My body reacted the way it always did when it found her. All of the tension dropped from tired shoulders, desperate to touch her more. To feel the imprint of her body pressed against mine, a mess of heat and need and love.

She was the one to kiss me first, and for a moment I let her do it without reciprocation. I wanted to feel how her touch became softer and shier as she realized what I was doing. That I was spending all of my energy memorizing the way her lips parted as she tried to hold back a giggle against my almost-still lips.

“What’s happening in that big genius brain of yours?” she murmured with eyes half open but still containing universes.

“I’m just thinking of all the things you’ve done to make me fall in love with you.”

I thanked all of the gods in every pantheon that made her too tired to tease. Instead, she just laughed, playing her part in bringing us back to that night we met.

“Like quote Picard?”

“We still haven’t watched Star Trek together,” I whined.

The sound must have stirred something new in her, because she rolled us over to take her seat on my lap. She hung over me, looking down at me, hopeless and breathless at the feel of her thighs under my hands. My heart started to race, but I didn’t know why.

It wasn’t until she spoke the words that were already running through my mind, “We’ve got time. Picard can wait.”

Everything about it was effortless. Our bodies had fallen together and mouths found each other exactly like every romance novel has ever tried to tackle the metaphor of gravity.

But if we were an orbit, it was not a binary like the traditional notion of two equal souls. Despite the nickname I’d chosen for her, nothing about her soul was small. And even though she burned bright, she wasn’t anything like the fiery combustion of a star.

She was a home. A thing so full of vitality and life that I would love to watch for whatever time I had left. I was just a moon, loyally following her and trying my best to shield her from whatever might try to harm her. To protect her when she needed rest and to lead the tides to kiss her when she wished. I would be her shadow, shining a light onto her even in the darkest time. All that I asked for in return was a spot beside her.

‘One day,’ she had said before, ‘if you will have me.’

But it was never a question. Not for me. And if she really needed me to answer it for her, I was happy to give her that. I hadn’t been waiting for even a year, but it felt like a lifetime.

“Yeah, he can,” I repeated, quiet and with such a heavy waver that I’m surprised she could understand the shifting inflections. Even if she didn’t, she knew that something had changed in those few seconds of silence.

“What’s up, Spencer?”

I didn’t know how to answer. How to explain what I was feeling. But I grabbed hold of one hand, clinging desperately to her and guiding her to the heart that felt dangerously light. The rapid pace of its beating still not enough to alert her of the true cacophony of my thoughts.

“Are you okay?”

The answer was yes. Because no matter how loud and chaotic the sounds inside my head were, they all lead me to the same conclusion.

“Picard can wait, and we have a lot of time,” I tried to explain through a dry throat that was only growing tighter with the unwieldy weight of the feeling.

“Yes…” she mumbled back, just as trepidatious and nervous as I was.  

Just like I was. Because we were. We were connected by some force, whatever you want to call it. Whether it was a chemical or psychological or heavenly connection, I didn’t care. I wanted her to know how I felt. To know that there was nothing that would ever tear me away from her.

“But I don’t… I don’t think I want to wait.”

After a couple more seconds of silence, she answered with a knowing stare, “… What?”

From my position underneath her, I was able to reach over just enough to grab my jacket. Of course, it helped that she moved with me, clearly curious and terrified of the possibilities. But a good kind of terror… I hoped.

My confidence grew as her legs gripped tighter around my hips and her hands shot up to cover her chest with balled fists pressed against one another. I heard the friction of her skin as her body started to shake in a different way, with an adrenaline that I hadn’t seen from her in even the most dangerous situations.

But when I pulled a small velvet box from the internal pocket, everything stopped. She became completely still. Her eyes were wide and frozen on the object in my hands, only to look away when she heard my voice.

“(Y/n).”

“Where did you get that?” she asked like she hadn’t just seen me pull it from my jacket. The same jacket that I wore every time that I was with her. The wool fabric that she’d swaddled herself in on a number of occasions, none the wiser of how much heavier it was for me when I wore it.

“I know this is really random, a-and to be fair, I wasn’t expecting it, either,” I said through the most awkward laughs I’d ever produced (which was saying something), “I mean, I knew I wanted to marry you, I’ve known that for quite some time, hence the ring.”

I paused, but got nothing in response. Nothing except her lips quivering from their parted position, and her nose twitching as she tried to settle on just one expression. But it didn’t matter how she contorted her face; they were all exactly as they should be. Because they were all her.

“But today, with you… I-I’ve never been that happy in my life. Jumping in leaves and fighting over fall flavors and I—“

Her eyes stopped bouncing, settling with my gaze and robbing my lungs of all air. She made up her mind, deciding to leave everything exactly as it was. The honest truth of the overwhelming storm of every emotion that had been experienced in the little time we had shared together.

The knowing that everything had happened exactly as it should have to bring us here.

“I love you so much,” I whispered, careful to make every word as genuine as they were, “And I know that we have all the time in the world left with one another… but I don’t want to wait any longer for you to be my wife.”

“Ask me,” she answered immediately and abruptly.  


“Okay,” I laughed, endlessly entertained by how she could sound so aggressive even when we were both at our most vulnerable, caught in the nexus of our love.

“Um… Will you… marry me?”

There was no hesitation. No worry, no fear, and no doubt.

“Yes, you stupid old man!” she outright screamed, throwing arms around me even when it meant we both slammed against pillows and the headboard. She didn’t stop squealing even when she kissed me, struggling to find more of me to hold onto.

After she decided that tugging on my hair was the best way to express her affection, I managed to break away just long enough to shout, “Wait! I have to put the ring on you!”

“Then put it on!” she yelled, thrusting her hand in front of my face and practically slapping me in the process. But none of the pain mattered. Nothing was even recognizable outside of the feeling of her sweaty, shaking palm resting against my fingers.

I noticed for the first time that I was also trembling. I took the time to focus, slipping the ring over her finger. But once it started to safely slide into place, my eyes returned to watch what I knew to be happy tears fall over her cheeks. I wiped them away, but they were replaced with the wetness from my face when she brought us together again with a long, gentle kiss.

A calmness came over the room like the feeling following a storm. A clean slate with soil enriched for growth. A hope for a future forever changed.

“What do we do now?” she asked, biting her bottom lip and holding tight to my hands.

The answer seemed clear enough.

“Whatever we want.”

 —————————————————

 Is this really happening?

I stared at the diamond shining back at me with a clarity that had to be a metaphor for my heart. In the vague reflection of yellow light and us, I felt a warmth that doesn’t normally accompany metal. My finger’s new companion felt so comfortable in its new resting place. A constant reminder of the man I called home.

Then I turned back to him, unsure how I was supposed to move on from this moment. I never wanted to leave, but I also needed to move. I compromised and settled with my face against his chest, listening to the heartbeat he’d just dedicated to me. In that peaceful quiet, I heard him speak so softly I wasn’t sure I was meant to hear it.

But I did.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he said with fingers dancing through the ends of my hair, “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

And for once, the thought didn’t feel like a burden. In fact, it felt like freedom. I was finally free to be who I was without worry that I would be alone. Without worrying that I would be too much or too little to please him.

I was enough.

Enough.

“I love you,” I said, tasting salt from tears I hadn’t even noticed were falling.

Curiously, and in a rare role switch, Spencer was the one who took a blatantly affectionate display and turned it into something else. Pulling me away from his chest, he dragged me up until he could drag his lips over my jaw.

“Don’t cry, little girl,” he cooed with what I could only imagine was a wicked grin, “I haven’t given you a reason to yet.”

Something about that gruff rumble in his throat caused my skin to ripple with goosebumps. Every inch of me burned with flames that could only be put out by his touch. I chased after his lips with my own, but he was insistent on trailing down my throat. He knew I would be powerless to him. I wouldn’t be able to argue when my hands were knotted in his hair and my hips were already rocking helplessly against his erection.

“I want you to fuck me,” I seethed. My blood was boiling from the heat I felt within, and before he could even answer I was already working at the buttons on his shirt.

“Oh? You don’t want me to make love to you?” Spencer laughed. As if that had ever been our style.

“No, I want you to take what’s yours.”

He responded to the demand by pushing me from my seat, forcing me onto my back on the other end of the bed. I wasn’t going to complain, either. The new position allowed me access to his belt, which I unbuckled before he even had time to laugh.  

“Are you really challenging me right now, little girl?”

But despite the taunt, he did nothing to stop me. His hands were also busy removing my clothes. And just like before, our nakedness was reciprocated. With each lost layer, I should have felt lighter, but I didn’t. I felt so powerful, so aware of how our bare bodies twined together.

“Here, of all places? Do you remember what I did to you that night?”

How could I ever forget?

“I’m not the same girl you had in your bed then,” I purred. We both knew it was true, although not in the way I was implying.

Because Spencer had changed me. Irrevocably. He taught me so much — not just about physics, literature, or criminology, either. He taught me about kindness, softness, and vulnerability. He taught me how to trust that someone could hold me without the intention of letting me go. More than anything, he taught me that I didn’t have to learn these things alone. Even the smartest man I’d ever met needed help with them sometimes.

Then again, something told me that Spencer wasn’t in a very humble mood. Perhaps it was the fact he’d pinned me down again, with his hands clumsily gripping hard enough to leave crescent moons in my forearms.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he growled with a small, chaste kiss, “You’re still just a fucking brat.”

I wasn’t feeling bratty then, though. Especially not as I felt the head of his cock pressed against me, just hard enough to feel the resistance of my body. He waited there, no doubt taking pleasure in the way my whole body squirmed underneath him. My hips bucked, but he managed to keep a cruelly steady distance.

“You’re so precious when you’re needy,” he mumbled. And although I stubbornly avoided looking him in the eyes out of protest, he forced my face towards him again, anyway. “Go on. Say please.”

“Fuck off,” I whined through a prominent pout that did me no favors.

“Say it.”

“Please!”

I managed to make eye contact, but it was fleeting. As soon as he thrust forward into me, my back arched and I lost myself in the pillows. My hands found him, though, leaving angry red welts over heated skin. If Spencer was at all affected by the pain, he made no showing of it. His pace continued, steadily forcing our bodies together until I trembled in his hands.

He would hold me there, at my limit but not pleading for him to do anything different. With tender hands, he would fuck me until I swore bruises would follow. But I never felt unsafe; I felt cared for and cherished in a way I’d never known. I trusted him to know my limits better than myself.

I trusted him with all of me because I had already seen that when given the chance, he would do whatever he could to protect me.

The love I felt must have shone through my eyes because his hips got slower, drawing out each movement. My hips rose in tandem with his, allowing me to feel every inch of him inside of me.

“This body belongs to me now and forever,” he whispered.

It always has.

“You belong to me.”

And I felt it. The undeniable string of fate that tied us to each other. I could feel his every emotion as his fingers brushed over my throat. I melted under his touch, completely consumed by the love he felt for me. The kind of love that people spent their whole lives searching for only to come up empty. That powerful thing that drove gods to war and men to madness.

The only feeling that could tear down every wall that had been carefully crafted to protect myself. Because I didn’t need them anymore. Spencer’s arms would take their place, holding me through the storms that might follow the same way he had carried me through the ones that led us here.

“Yes,” I breathed, “I’m yours.”

For forever and whatever comes after.

The words were truer than they’d ever been before, and Spencer took it as permission to let go of any remaining hesitation. The slow, gentle thrusts became faster and our moans echoed in the small room without a second thought to the poor patrons in the rooms surrounding us. Because if they felt what we did, they would understand. Spencer still tried to hush the sounds, crashing his lips over mine in a sloppy, frenzied kiss.

I was suddenly reminded of every romantic story I’d ever heard. They all spoke of feeling so close to someone that they felt like an extension of yourself. I wasn’t sure if it was completely true, but there was no denying how at home our bodies were. The way our tongues wrapped around one another and how our noses bumped so gently in the chaos was unmatched by any meeting driven by lust or need.

His hips met mine over and over again, no matter how hard I tried to keep him closer. Even when my hips chased his to be held longer, Spencer was persistent in the ruthless pace. Because like me, he was lost in the euphoria. I knew it from the sound of his whimpers and the way he bit my lip just a little bit harder.

“Tell me what you want, little girl,” he begged. Not ordered. Begged.

“You,” I answered without any doubt, “I just want you.”

His response came even faster, even more desperate and scratchy as it came through his lips into mine.

“You have me. For the rest of my life and whatever comes after, I will take care of you.”

There was nothing left to say. I could feel the truth and force behind the words as he fucked me harder, eliciting one more quiet cry from me in the sound of his name.

“Spencer...”

When he returned the call, though, it wasn’t with any name I’d heard from him before.

“So you better get used to this feeling,” he said through a smile that I felt on my lips before he drew back. He looked me in the eye as he buried himself in me, tensing to hold himself back just a few seconds longer. To see the look on my face and let that be the feeling of us giving in to each other for the first time in our new story.

“Because I’m never going to grow tired of this, Mrs. Reid.”

Mrs. Reid.

That was going to be my name.

Mrs. Reid.

That was the only thought running through my mind as I felt the coil in my gut snap and all of my muscles tense around him. There were no whorish sounds left in my lungs, only little whimpers and whines as I tried to claw him closer. Spencer gave up his visual in exchange for kissing me while he finished. My walls held him so tightly that I felt each pulse and every place where his release filled me. But nothing was more compelling than feeling the way his lip quivered between mine as his body fell onto mine with no grace required.

Spencer could act hard all he wanted, but I felt the way he craved softness. Safety. Love. All things I was happy to give… for a price.

“Say it again.”

“Say what again?” he replied sleepily but animated enough to have a healthy dose of snark. Snark that earned him a rough nudge of my elbow into his ribs.

“You know!”

But naturally, the genius had to play dumb. With a happy little hum, he snuggled closer to me, burying his face into my neck so he could mumble against the skin, “You’ll have to be more specific.”

“Please,” I sighed, “for me?”

He seemed to contemplate the plea for a little while longer, with wiggling toes I felt against my shins and a happy sigh that breezed over my neck. I tried to take in those small things while I waited, knowing that while I had a lifetime to learn them, this moment would never come again.

“Fine,” he finally settled, propping himself up to give another soft kiss followed by the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Only for you, Mrs. Reid.”

 ——  The Next Morning ——

 Waking up next to Spencer with a ring on my finger was literally waking up to find my dream come to life. And sure, his light snoring and constant wriggling under the sheets he continued to pull off of me weren’t perfect or picturesque, but they were real. The same way that he chirped when he felt my legs wrap around him in his sleep and only woke when he heard me giggling.

His eyes fluttered open, taken aback by something that he saw. Although I would blame it on the sunlight filtering through the curtains, I was sure that he would give me all the credit.

“Good morning,” he slurred.  

“Hi,” I answered with a smile and an attempt to pull him closer. But my hand was stopped by his, squeezing my palm between his fingers before dragging my knuckles to his lips. From there, he laid a gentle kiss over the diamond he’d placed there the night before. Although it was strange to be outshone by a rock, I let it go for now.

“I know you shouldn’t sleep with it on, but it’s so nice to see it’s still there,” he said with a heavy breath before lowering our still joined hands to rest against his heart. I could feel the way it beat a little bit quicker as I came closer, and I wondered if this was really what it would be like forever.

“I couldn’t resist wearing it.”

“You know you can still change your mind, right? We haven’t told anyone.”

“I haven’t changed my mind,” I replied unlike every time before. There was no teasing, no joke or anger or sadness. Just a pure, unadulterated joy.

… Of course, the question did bring up an entirely new anxiety. It did feel a bit silly, but it needs to be expressed.

“Have you?”

“God, no,” he laughed. Like he’d only asked the question to see the way I might panic. But as soon as I heard his assurance, I knew it was the truth.

My mind started to drift back to that first morning we spent together. It felt like a lifetime ago, but everything still felt so very much the same. I wondered if there were things I would change if given the chance. It wasn’t until after I ran through the laundry list of things that we would have been better off without that I realized I’d asked the wrong question.

It wasn’t a matter of what I would have changed, but what I would have kept the same. And the answer was simple. No matter what I would face in my life, I just wanted it to be with him. Everything would be okay as long as I had him.

However, when I tried to kiss him, Spencer still seemed hung up on the things he would have changed. Our lips didn’t connect for even ten seconds before he broke apart, happily laughing through the words, “This is so much better when I’m not hungover.”

“Old man.”

He didn’t argue back, wiggling under the sheets until our chests were pressed together. I took it as a very poor attempt at a power play, because instead of craning my neck to look up at him from my spot, I simply climbed his lanky figure until our noses were pressed together.

“Your old man now,” he corrected, followed by my own clarification of, “You were always mine, Dr. Reid.”

“But now you get to show everyone.” He grinned, letting go of my hand to roam over the curves of my body. His daily attempts to memorize each version of me he held. After a few more moments of silent reverence, I asked the question we’d have to face eventually, lest we face even more awkward, embarrassing moments with the team.

“Who’s gonna tell everyone?”

He barely even considered the options before he shrugged.

“Let’s just… wing it.”

I paused, certain that I’d heard it wrong. “You, Spencer Reid, would like to ‘wing it?’” I repeated, barely able to get the words out without laughing from the absurdity of it all.

But he was quick to assure me, “Yeah, I do.”

“Alright. Whatever you say,” I sighed. I figured that it wouldn’t be worth it to plan right now, anyway. It wasn’t exactly our style. If anything, we would find the perfect time completely by accident.

“You know what we should do first though?” I excitedly announced to the best audience a girl could ever ask for.

“What?”

“Coffee,” I drawled. To which he quickly answered, “I love you an ungodly amount.”

Taking full advantage of that admission, I shoved the poor soul who’d shackled himself to me forever away as I ordered, “Go turn it on. I am craving shitty hotel coffee in bed with my fiancé.”

“Fine,” he resigned with a smile while rolling out of the bed, “Spoiled brat.”

“Your spoiled brat!” I shouted back from safe under the covers that I could finally get back in his absence. They weren’t as good as him, but they would be enough for now. I buried my face into his pillow, snickering as I heard a very tired Spencer call from the bathroom, “Forever mine!”

Just as the sounds of running water filled the room, I lifted my head at the distant sound of familiar chiming beside me.

“Is that my phone?”

I didn’t answer, paralyzed in my place as I felt the most intense sensation of deja vu I’d ever experienced. Right there on the nightstand, I saw the name Hotchner.

Spencer was quicker this time to leave the bathroom, but just as he turned the corner, a thought must have stopped him. Because he paused, staring at me with hotel sheets gathered around me and his phone against my ear.  

He didn’t try to fight me for the device. In fact, he didn’t move at all, watching from a few feet away with a smile I’d never seen before. The kind that I felt so deep inside of me that I realized this was what they meant to share a soul with someone.

 “Hello,” I spoke softly and filled with love, “this is Mrs. Reid.”

 The End.

—————————————————

Epilogue

#spencer reid #spencer reid series #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid request #reid request #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid #spencer reid self insert

[hamliet]

What Does It Mean to Save?

I keep seeing it said that Deku, Ochaco, and Shouto will “save” Shigaraki, Himiko, and Dabi, but that there will be no redemption and/or no survival for them. I’m truly not trying to vague these posts and everyone is entitled to their opinion, but literary criticism is fundamentally responsive so I’m writing this anyways.

I personally think that’s not BNHA’s definition of saving nor of redemption. So here, have a deep dive into literary tropes related to redemption, genre, and character arcs as they pertain to BNHA and the question of: what does it mean to save Shigaraki, Touya, and Himiko?

Before we begin, let me say that while we might be personally uncomfortable with redemption (there’s a redemption arc in BNHA I am personally quite uncomfortable with), that doesn’t inherently mean the narrative won’t go there. The key principle I’m operating on here is BNHA’s message that heroes save people. It’s held up as the highest ideal. 

So let’s talk redemption in BNHA-verse. With this guy, whose redemption arc I dislike in principle but accept as part of the story so don’t come for me stans and/or antis. I’m analyzing because it shows us what redemption means in BNHA-verse, whether or not that is satisfying to you personally as it fits/does not fit with your own morality/philosophy.

If Endeavor can be redeemed and live, and he’s Bakugou’s negative foil, I highly doubt Shigaraki and Deku as well as Touya and Shouto and Ochaco and Himiko will be any different. Why? Because Enji is an adult character. The others--well, Himiko’s age we don’t know, but we do know that Shigaraki and Dabi are technically adults. But does the story consider them adults?

(It doesn’t.)

Child-coded characters are generally more likely to survive a redemption, which I’ll explain more later. First I have to define what I mean by child-coding, because I DO NOT mean this in the way it’s often (mis)used in fandom wank. Child-coding is a real thing, but it is not done to infantilize and it has nothing to do with shipping.

Child coding frames the character as a child for a few narrative purposes to convey a story’s theme or purpose. For example, if it’s a coming of age story coding a character as a child even if they legally are not emphasizes their journey to an understanding of self-actualization, or a true understanding of self with self-awareness and an understanding of self-value. An example of an adult coded as a child is The Kite Runner, wherein Amir is a legal adult for half the story, even married for fifteen years so we’re talking 30s-40s, but he does not truly become an adult until he returns to his homeland and takes responsibility for a childhood sin. In Attack on Titan, the main characters are now nineteen, but are still struggling to take responsibility as adults and have only started doing so now that their mentors/parental figures have started dying.

Along those lines, in any kind of story, you can code a character as a child of someone, regardless of biological relationship, to convey the type of relationship they have (usually a mentor one). For an example of this, see Bungo Stray Dogs’ Dazai and Akutagawa. Despite their two year age difference, Dazai recruited him to the mafia, abandoned him, and Akutagawa desperately seeks his approval. Usually in these stories a character will “overcome” their parental figure. This can be done through overcoming their need for the parental figure’s approval in stories where the parental figure is kindly (such as in Harry Potter, when in the final book Harry, Ron, and Hermione leave the Weasleys to find the Horcruxes despite Mrs. Weasley’s please) or through like, killing/stopping/leaving the parental figure when they are abusive (see fairy tales like Rapunzel and Cinderella). The parental link to self-actualization is because it is childlike (and a part of actual psychology that is reflected in literature) to see yourself as a part of your parent; self-actualized person would see yourself as a distinct person from your parent, but also acknowledge the ways in which they’ve shaped you.

So, how do you code a character as a child? BNHA isn’t subtle about it, because Horikoshi seldom is subtle about anything. The villain trio are all coded as children.

Shigaraki Tomura:

Who cannot achieve self-actualization so long as AFO has access to his body, as he’s literally trying to possess him. He’s trying, but it’s not gonna work because Shigaraki can’t keep AFO and become an adult at the same time. It’s a choice the narrative is setting up: your dream of destroying, or your freedom? (To get the latter, he’ll probably have to destroy AFO).

Todoroki Touya, who is repeatedly emphasized as a small child when compared to his siblings, and yes, I know he’s now tall. Specifically he’s spotlighted as the child of Endeavor:

And he’s the least self-actualized one in a lot of ways, contradicting himself constantly. I’m not Endeavor, DUH! But these are Endeavor’s flames! He’s gonna have to choose one or the other, because the tragic irony is that the more he takes out his rage on those around him, the more like Endeavor he becomes.

And Toga Himiko (who might well literally be a legal child), who is actually the most self-actualized one thus far, because she rejects Curious’s child insistence (Curious holds her in a Pieta pose, based on Michelangelo’s statue wherein Mary holds a deceased Christ):

She’s still got, like, a way to go though:

Because Himiko also wants to be like the people she loves to the point where she loses her own identity in them, which is er, not self-actualization. So she’ll have to choose whether or not she really wants to be like the people she loves or whether she wants to live her own way, which she herself tells us how that would end (death):

Deku said it himself: it’s good to focus on what someone is doing now. And look, I have issues with this statement and how it’s framed. I’ve talked about it at length and it was doomed to fail because Shouto himself told us long ago that it was annoying to hear a righteous speech by a stranger when you hadn’t gone through the same, plus Endeavor kinda failed by choosing being a hero over a dad here. But, the principle is that if the past doesn’t preclude Endeavor from seeking a better self, why would it preclude three characters coded as children, one of whom is literally somewhat the product of Endeavor’s sins? BNHA doesn’t think the past keeps someone from a better future. 

So what about Dabi’s counterpoint, which is indeed valid? Well, redemption doesn’t mean the past forgets, either. It’s complicated and nuanced, and we can debate how well Horikoshi strikes this nuance (it’s got its flaws), and admittedly I don’t know how this will go down in the future. But it is asking Endeavor: how do you redeem yourself to the people you’ve hurt? And we have Endeavor asking this question to Touya’s shrine. I mean, the foreshadowing is obvious. Endeavor has to redeem himself by trying to save Touya. However, it will still probably come down to Shouto to save Touya.

For our three villains, it’s a little harder to predict... well, sort of. For Shigaraki it’s extremely obvious: he has to help take down AFO. Dabi probably has to do something to help his family (siblings probably), but it’s vague. Toga needs help and not condemnation, but presumably she’ll help Ochaco with something.

So, is this redemption? I’d define it as redemption in the eyes of the narrative. To address what makes a redemption is another essay unto itself, but if we bring in the oft-compared Star Wars example: did Darth Vader get a redemption? Did Ben Solo? Everyone says yes to both. However, only Luke witnesses Vader’s redemption, and only Rey Ben Solo’s. So the rest of the galaxy? Doesn’t think so. When I say they’ll be redeemed, I’m defining it as their role in the eyes of the narrative, not whether or not society will accept them or even whether their victims will forgive them (of note, in canonical novels, Leia never forgave Darth Vader despite learning he was her father and obviously knowing Luke’s account of his redemption was true).

So, redemption in a narrative doesn’t mean all of society has to forgive and accept them. Dabi has still like, murdered 30 people--many of whom were thugs, but he himself acknowledges they didn’t deserve to die. Additionally, he himself also acknowledges that the families left behind--their feelings matter:

But why does that mean they have to die? Why even does it mean they have to languish in prison forever? (If there’s even a safe prison at the end of BNHA which I kinda have doubts about.) Heroes have also killed: see Hawks as Exhibit A. In fact, some people want revenge on the heroes precisely because they arrested or killed their loved ones (jail isn’t held up as a rehabilitative place in BNHA’s world. In most countries it isn’t in real life, either, but again that’s for another essay). So why don’t the League’s feelings on Twice’s death matter just as much as the feelings of unnamed and unseen (and thereby less important narratively) characters?

Additionally, regarding death... the villains routinely get called on their death wishes. Himiko’s determination to decide how/when she dies is called out because this is right  before Twice overcomes his trauma to save her, and the next arc they appear in is when Twice dies trying to save her again. Dabi’s suicide wish keeps him from getting close to others, and it keeps getting thwarted. Shigaraki’s obsession with destruction and death is clearly not a good thing, and his rejection of his family’s desire for them to join him in death this past arc is growth.

In other words: what Dabi said and what Snatch said about families and how they feel matter for the villains too. The villains are their own weird found family (Dabi as the deadbeat prodigal brother of both his families). Their deaths--Magne’s and Twice’s thus far, and I’m not ruling out further deaths in the future--affect the others. People’s feelings on losing loved ones matter. The villains are people, as Himiko said herself this arc:

Their feelings about each other matter:

How would Touya dying affect the Todorokis? At least they saved him spiritually, I guess, but that’s absolutely lame narratively, and if you have Enji eventually do a sacrifice to save Dabi (pretty likely, even if I personally think Enji will survive said sacrifice) then what’s the point of Dabi dying? How would Himiko dying affect society? As a martyr like Curious wanted her to be, even a redeemed one? A tragic warning story? What even is the point of Ochaco saving her if that’s the case? If Shigaraki dies, well, who would mourn besides Deku? How would Shigaraki dying affect the surviving members of the league? He just couldn’t be saved physically? 

It’s not impossible some of this happens, but it doesn’t seem like great writing, especially with panels like, oh, these that show us BNHA’s perspective on death:

Sacrificing something is a type of death that occurs in stories; this should happen in a redemption arc, which is why I’ve been saying Enji needs to sacrifice his hero reputation to help save Touya and even then it’ll still be Shouto imo who does the saving. But physical death?

If you want further analysis of the latter two panels and how they relate to the ending, see here.

We already have another villain who will definitely die redemptively (Kurogiri--an adult coded character--because he’s already, like, dead), and Spinner and Mr. Compress aren’t coded as kids so I hold them with anxiety towards the end. But again, this isn’t me being ageist or saying this is the way things ought to be in fiction or real life: it’s me looking at writing tropes and saying that child-coded characters tend to survive their redemptions. See: Zuko. Why? Because the death of children or child-coded characters is a tragedy. When a child-coded character dies redemptively it doesn’t feel like a happy ending and if framed as such, it’s often criticized for bad writing (see: Ben Solo). Curious even called this out in her fight with Himiko. I would hope Horikoshi doesn’t end the story being like yeah Curious was right that’s the best use of Himiko’s/Dabi’s/Shigaraki’s arcs:

Additionally, as for the believability of a character getting a new chance after so much destruction and murder... well, it’s kinda a thing in shonen and even in seinen? For better or for worse, it’s a thing. We have Vegeta in Dragon Ball Z and Kaneki Ken in Tokyo Ghoul (Kaneki, by the way, is absolutely an inspiration for Shigaraki). We can debate how well-written these redemptions are (I personally have been quite critical of Kaneki’s despite wanting it to happen narratively), but it can be done. BNHA’s Japan especially isn’t as harsh a world as Tokyo Ghoul’s Japan, so it would make even more sense for something like Kaneki’s ending.

The reality is that the cycle of revenge via hurting people and then leaving hurting families and loved ones has to stop somewhere. Someone has to be the bigger person and step up and be like “naw.” That’s heroic. That’s brave. That’s sacrificial itself. Justice itself doesn’t really exist in its purest form without mercy.

There’s another genre-reason I don’t see death or jail as likely (I could see, like, maybe a mental health ward like Rei’s? But it’s too soon to speculate).

If saving is considered a good thing for the story, if it’s truly the highest ideal, then saving someone should be rewarded by the narrative. The characters who save should have a positive result to show us this a good thing.

This is why it doesn’t work for the heroes’ end journey to be accepting that some people cannot be saved. The notion of just accepting that you cannot do something, you cannot save everyone, you cannot, cannot, cannot, is called out as a flaw of society. Determination, on the other hand, is rewarded.

We see it with Deku as well as with Mirio.

So, what if they save them and the redeemed characters then go on to sacrifice themselves in their redemption and die (come to the same end)? If saving changes absolutely nothing for the saved person, if it’s too late for the saved from themselves to change and/or do anything that matters besides die, then the narrative theme of saving as important is left unemphasized at best and undermined at worst. Simple intrinsic knowledge that the kids “did the right thing” doesn’t cut it for a story with so much focus on physical saving when the kids are already doing the right thing; moral struggles about whether to choose to be good aren’t really Deku, Ochaco, or Shouto’s arcs. It works for Aizawa’s arc with Kurogiri, but not for the kiddos. If BNHA was more of a philosophical/spiritual text, that would indeed make sense, but it is not. Genre-wise, BNHA is a fantastical superhero optimistic story, not a gritty real-world set drama.

#bnha meta #mha meta #bnha 295 #mha 295 #deku #league of villains #shigaraki tomura #shimura tenko #todoroki shouto #todoroki touya #todoroki enji #endeavor #todoroki family #toga himiko #all for one #afo #uraraka ochako #bakugou katsuki #aizawa shouta #bnha theory #mha theory #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #midoriya izuku #kurogiri

[nights-legacy]

Survival on High Emotion-Todoroki

Main Masterlist MHA Masterlist

+The class was given a choice of partners and setting for a training mission. Naturally, Todoroki and you chose to partner together since not only for us dating but they work together well. What you didn’t account for was the disagreement you and he would have the morning of the training mission.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This way.” Todoroki said in front of me. I followed him wordlessly. I had my arms crossed across my stomach. I looked around at the surrounding woods. The path we were on weaved through the trees with no clear purpose. We were on an overnight survival training mission and so far we hadn’t had any problems.

“We need to find a place for shelter and food for the night.” I said. He made a sound of agreement. I listened intently around the area. I heard water in the distance. I grabbed Todoroki’s arm as he went to go another way. “Over there. I hear water.”

“Are you sure?” He asked looking in that direction. I nodded. “Okay.” He pulled his arm away swiftly. He was being short with me. We had a small argument this morning and we both were being reserved.

After a while of finding the right spot, scavenging for food, and firewood, we settled down. Todoroki lite the wood before sitting back against a tree on the other side. I silently sighed, looking into the fire. I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling the cold start to creep up with the sunset.

“To bad we can’t see the stars to well.” I said. He didn’t respond. I huffed. I sat down on the ground and leant back against it, leaning my head back. “And now he won’t even talk to me.” I lowly.

“I can hear you.” He said with slight irritation.

“Wasn’t trying to keep it to myself.” I told him outright. I heard a sigh of annoyance. I looked up and saw he had his elbows on his knees and was rubbing his forehead in irritation. I let my head drop back.

“Insufferable.” He whispered. I took in a breath and sat up.

“Oh so your still unhappy? I mean you have me all to yourself now. No one else around to ‘steal’ me away.” I shot at him. His gaze shot up and locked on me.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” He said sternly. “What I meant was that he is going to steal you away from me!”

“Tama? Tamaki Amajiki is going to steal me away from you? Really!” I exclaimed.

“You spend so much time with him that it wouldn’t surprise me.” He said running his hand through his bi-colored hair. I gave me an annoyed chuckled.

“Then you do not know Tama very well and you don’t know me very well at all, you idiot. He has been one of my best friends since I was a kid and you know it!” I yelled getting to my feet. “He could never do that to anyone and I definitely would NEVER do that to you.”

“How can you be so sure? He could be playing you, using you for his own…” I scoffed before turning away.

“I can’t believe!! I know you are still working on your social and people skills with trust and everything but I thought you trusted me.” I yelled.

“I do trust you but not him. Can’t you see that?” He exclaimed throwing his hands out. I rolled my eyes before walking away. “Where are you going?”

“Away from you!” I yelled.

“Wait! L/N, come back.” I heard him get to his feet. I shook my head. “L/N, we supposed to be in this toge…Wait not that way!” He yelled, panic suddenly filling his voice. I turn to look back at him in wonder as he yelled again. “Watch out there’s a…”

“Ahh!” The ground under my feet disappeared and I began to fall. I hit against a few hard surfaces until I finally hit a full surface and stopped hard. I yelped when I hit, the breath being knocked out of me. I was suspended in a state of half-consciousness.

“L/N!” I heard a distant yell. “L/N, are you okay? Can you hear me?” I whimpered in response as I heard him above me somewhere. “L/N?... L/N?... Y/N?!” I tried to move but everything hurt. A thud caught my attention. “Shit, Y/N.”

“Todo…” I whimpered. I felt hands gently begin to move me. I screamed out as a pain shot through my side.

“I’m sorry, shh. Shit, Y/N.” He moved me to lay across his lap, holding me close. I gripped his arm that was reaching for my face. I opened my eyes to see a look of panic, fear, and worry in his face. He inspected my body and his hand brushed across my side.

“Ah!” I flinched away when his fingers hit the same spot the pain came from earlier. He pulled his hand up for us to see blood in the moonlight. I could feel the more places start to hurt and throb.

“No, no, no.” He stuttered looking around. “I need to get you back to the fire. This is going to hurt, I am so sorry.” He readjusted me on his lap. I felt cold formulate under us and then we were moving up. He picked me up and ran as smoothly as he could once we reached the surface.

“T-t-t…Shoto.” I whimpered as he laid me down. I pulled at his suit when he went to go somewhere.

“I will be right back, I promise baby.” He assured before moved from my line of sight. I heard his footsteps run away. I whined, reaching down and touching my wound. I flinched before pulling my hand up to see there was quite a bit of blood on it. I felt my head spin. My hand felt very heavy and I let it drop.

“Shoto!” I screamed out in fear. I finally heard footsteps coming back my way.

“I’m here. I’m here.” He said running a hand over my forehead. I felt very cold but I could see the sweat from my forehead on his hand. He turned his attention to my wound. I felt something wet hit my skin and I jumped.

“What?”

“I have to clean the wound.” He clarified. I nodded and turned my head, biting my lip in pain. I felt myself going in and out of consciousness as he fixed up my wound as best as me could. “Y/N? Hey come back to me. Please. Wake up.”

“Shoto?” I opened my eyes and looked up at him. He looked half relieved when my eyes met his. He pushed hair back and held my face.

“I am sorry. So, so sorry.” He whispered. He laid his forehead against mine. I closed my eyes in small content before flinching when I felt a throb in my side. I felt him pull away. I opened my eyes as he moved to my good side. “I should have tried harder to stop you. You fell because of me.”

“Shoto, uh, sorry Todoroki. No it wasn’t. I was just being stubborn. I should have been more careful.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and I leant my head on his.

“Maybe but I over reacted. I know Amajiki would never try to take you away from me and I definitely know you wouldn’t do that either. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I just…The other day when you were spending time with Amajiki and Mirio, Kaminari made a comment about how you two are so close and how you two would be cute if you were together.”

“Todo…”

“And it hurt because I could actually see what he was saying. You too are very close and it would make sense if you two were together.” He said solemnly. I reached up and turned his face towards me.

“I think of Tama only as friend or even a brother. Nothing more.” I ran a thumb over his cheek. He nuzzled into my hand before kissing my palm. “If I wanted to be with anyone else, I wouldn’t dare string you along.”

“I know.” He whispered. I shifted and tensed. “Don’t move too much. I didn’t have much to treat your wound and we don’t need it to get worse. I can’t stand seeing hurt as it is.”

“I’m alright, Todo.” I said. “When morning comes we’ll get help.”

“Hm.” He hummed, nosing my hair. “Please call me by my name. I, I…I liked it when you called me Shoto.” He said lowly, almost embarrassed. I chuckled and cuddled into him slowly.

“Alright. As long as you call me by mine.” I felt him nod. I relaxed the best I could against him, falling into an uncomfortable sleep.

I woke up to gentle movement. I opened my eyes and saw Shoto. He was carrying me somewhere. I yawned and snuggled into his chest. He looked down at me and smiled. His hands tightened for a moment.

“Good morning, love.” He said softly.

“Where are you?” I asked trying to move up his chest. He helped and paused when I flinched.

“Almost to the end of our training area.” He said. “The sensei’s should be waiting on us and we can get you help. You started bleeding again slightly.” His voice was laced with concern. I nodded before nuzzling into his neck.

“Todoroki! L/N! There you are. How did things…What happened?!” I heard Mic Sensei yell. I heard multiple footsteps coming towards us.

“She fell into a chasm and was wounded badly. Bad enough I couldn’t move her until morning.” Shoto explained. I looked and saw Present Mic and Aizawa standing before us. Aizawa moved forward and move whatever was over my wound to look at it.

“You took care of it well for what little you had. Take he to Recovery Girl immediately.” He instructed. Shoto acknowledged. “You will be alright, L/N.”

“Thank you Aizawa sensei.” Shoto walked us away to the waiting transportation back to the school. He set me gently in the backseat of the car. He made sure I was comfortable before he went to close the door.

“L/N. Todoroki.” Shoto paused as we both looked at Aizawa. He walked up, hands in his pockets. “I would like to also tell you that you both passed this exercise.”

“But…” I motioned to myself and my wound.

“It was a survival exercise that you chose. You have to work with what you can find and what you have on your person. You have to run with whatever happens including in injuries. You two worked through you that hand you were dealt while also dealing with high emotions on top of it. You did very excellent. Now run along children, don’t need one of my students bleeding out on my watch. Looks bad on me. Now go.”

“Thank you Aizawa-sensei.” I called out chuckling. Shoto closed the door and ran around to the other side. Once he got in, he pulled me into his side to be more comfortable. “Or should I say Dadzawa.”

“Darling.” Shoto chided but was chuckling all the same. I smiled before bringing my knees up carefully, tucking them. Shoto grabbed at the bend of my knee to help and pull me close. “After we get you tended to…can we go get some Soba? I am rather hungry.”

“Shoto!” I laughed. “Of course but only as long as we can go and cuddle afterwards. I would really like to cuddle…in a warm, soft bed…not the cold, hard ground.”

“Of course my darling.” He kissed my head. “Anything you want.”

#shoto todoroki #todoroki x reader #todoroki #todoroki imagine #todoroki fluff #todoroki shoto x reader #mha imagines #mha x reader #mha todoroki #my hero academia #mha #bnha #boku no hero x reader #boku no hero academia #imagine #imagines #bnha todoroki #angst #todoroki angst #fluff #shoto todoroki imagine #bnha x reader #mha fluff #mha angst #mha fanfiction #todoroki x you #todoroki fanfic