✧*࿐random Cute Texts: Jjk ✧˖*࿐

Okay, hear me out:

I’m happy Avery was a bad friend to Max. I’m happy she hurt the people around her.

When I first read TIG, I remember thinking that Avery was *such* a Mary Sue in the first few chapters. For context, this is what Wikipedia says a Mary Sue is: “A Mary Sue is a character archetype in fiction, usually a young woman, who is often portrayed as inexplicably competent across all domains, gifted with unique talents or powers.” I mean, she was the quiet “wallpaper” girl with only one friend who faced hardships and lived out of her car occasionally, yet still did well in school, successfully ran a poker ring, and then befriended + played a homeless man for the privilege of buying him breakfast every day. I thought I would dislike Avery because of this.

But we get to see the actions that drove the Mary Sue impression hurt those around her. She managed to be so successful in school while managing a job, tumultuous family relationships, and a poker ring because she’s stubborn, driven, and focused.

However, her focus nurtured selfishness, as she was only able to focus on her situation, therefore causing that temporary rift between her and Max. Her life situation was dire, but that doesn’t erase the fact that Max had felt like she wasn’t listened to for a length of time. Avery’s explanations for being an inattentive friend are valid, but they don’t excuse it. Although, she did listen to Max in TIG and aspired to be a better/more attentive friend. Despite this, she still forgot about Max’s birthday in THL because she was so focused on Emily’s birthday auction and the family affairs:

“And that was when I realized: ‘Today’s your birthday, too.’

‘Too?’ For a split second, I saw raw emotion behind Max’s eyes” (THL 121).

Similarly, while I won’t be finding quotes for it, Avery acknowledged that she became negligent of Libby as she focused on her new situation, the puzzles, and the boys.

Also, in THL, Avery’s stubbornness and drive hurt Oren. She continues pulling on the Toby thread, eventually leading to the plane bomb incident. Avery says: “Alisa didn’t like the idea of my visiting Hawthorne Island. Oren liked it even less. But there was no stopping me now” (THL 292). Because of this, men *die.* Now, Avery didn’t kill those men, but both her and Oren recognize that it was avoidable:

“His voice got tighter. ‘Two of my men didn’t make it.’

Devastating guilt drilled through me. . .‘I’m sorry.’

Oren didn’t tell me not to be. He didn’t say that if I hadn’t pushed to go to Rockaway Watch, those men would still be alive” (THL 310).

I love that her traits were double-edged, and I love that they were truly bad. So often, the flaws female characters are allowed are negligible— especially regarding consequences and accountability. It’s also notable because JLB said she wrote Avery with the ability to go toe-to-toe with the “magic” Hawthorne brothers; it would have been so convenient to subdue her flaws. Yet, Avery didn’t have traits which existed only as flaws to check a box; she had traits that acted as both assets and liabilities. She successfully managed the adversity dealt to her because of such, but also equally hurt those around her— and for that, I’m happy. I thought she would be a Mary Sue, but her actions in the beginning of TIG are simply one side of the coin. It saved Avery from being an unfortunate archetype, instead transforming her into a dynamic, realistic, understandable, and relatable character.

Extra: people get mad at Jameson because he was so focused on the puzzle in TIG that he hurt Avery— but she did the exact same thing to the few people who cared about her. Let’s not absolve her of and feel guilt only for Avery in order to villainize Jameson and make his mistakes uniquely indicative of his moral failings. Their hunger can be selfish. Let’s recognize that, like Avery, Jameson’s drive and focus are nuanced. In contrast, Alisa and Nash’s drives were unmatched, which led to their downfall—but that’s a whole separate discussion.

Extra extra: ignore any spelling or grammar mistakes. I’m not double checking this because I’m hungry and want to go eat :(. Also, I definitely was swinging like a pendulum between present and past tense as I discussed the story and evidence— ignore this. It’s a bad habit that I always have to pay special attention to while editing papers, but like I said, I’m not rereading this.

we need these everywhere

UC or ER?

Isaac: "I dislike living in a world without Augustus Waters."

Computer: "I don't understand---"

Isaac: "Me neither. Pause."

“do you ever regret it?” you ask. “loving me?”

“why would i ever regret that?” he asks in a low whisper, fingertips drawing invisible lines on your exposed hip bone.

“i feel like…” you pause, sighing as you turn your head to the ceiling on his chest. “i feel like we’re holding each other back.”

satoru is quiet. he holds his breath, fingers halting on your skin.

“i wouldn’t want someone using me just to get you,” you elaborate, and gojo exhales. “i feel like…i don’t know. we keep each other weak?” you looking up at him, a hand leaning on a smooth chest. your eyes pour into his endless ocean. “i keep you weak.”

he keeps looking at you for a few seconds before a hand reaches up to cup your cheek. “you keep me sane.”

you pout just a bit, and satoru pulls you up to kiss it away. “you keep me tied down. grounded.” he tugs your hair away from your face as your arm cages his bigger body underneath you. “if anything, the fact that you’re the only weak spot i have says a lot.”

“i don’t want you to have a weak spot because of me.”

“i wouldn’t have it any other way,” he pushes you down to your previous position, a hand climbing to your hair while the other returns to your hip.

you stay quiet this time around, unconvinced, weighed down by your own overthinking. he comforts you like this, fingers massaging your scalp, calm breathes lulling you to sleepiness.

“i know choosing to be in a relationship this serious in a life like ours is risky,” satoru mumbles some time later. he squeezes you in, turning to fully face your body. “but i won’t find this anywhere else.”

you look up, and he finally sees the little tears clouding your vision. a smile stretches his lips pleasantly and a hand raises to swipe a thumb under a tearful eye, and you lean in his touch like a starved kitten.

“i won’t find you anywhere else.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

pls reblog so i can find my old followers again!:(

last night, you had your very first sleepover with katsuki.

it was perfect. no snoring or sleep walking, no blanket hogging, and most importantly—no pro hero work pulling him away in the morning. the only thing that would’ve made it better, is some clarity.

you’re dating katsuki, but it’s not official—he’s not your boyfriend. you wonder if maybe, he’s just not that into you, or perhaps, he just doesn’t have the time. time—something he’s never had enough of, that has to be it, right?

your very first date, it was a two parter, because he was needed elsewhere mid mapo tofu. a few other dates after that were also cut short—maybe he thinks you just don’t know each other well enough yet? is it even possible for someone like him to think that way? whatever the reason, you need to know.

“morning katsuki,” you murmur, shuffling into the kitchen as you pull your sleeves up over your fists. you have a clear goal in mind—but he’s cooking, without a shirt, and suddenly your mission is ten times more difficult. is this what being a pro hero feels like?

“morning,” he mumbles back, glancing up briefly as you lean against the counter.

“what am i to you?” shit, how did that slip out? you could’ve sworn you asked how he slept.

“a fuckin’ headache,” he replies, sliding two glasses out of the cupboard and onto the counter. he opens the fridge, grabbing the carton of apple juice, and the carton of orange juice.

date three, part one—you had a heated debate over which is better, apple or orange. katsuki told you he doesn’t like to chew his damn beverages, and you told him that, believe it or not, they make orange juice without pulp. still, he went on about the bitterness, the acidity, and the horrid oj and toothpaste combo—yet here he is having both in his refrigerator—how odd.

“c’mon, i’m serious,” you urge, watching the liquids cascade into their respective cups.

“so ‘m i.” he nudges your glass towards you, bringing his own up to his lips and chugging it.

“but, i’m in your apartment,” you pause, noticing the way his face contorts into a full on sentence—one that reads yeah, no shit. “i slept in your bed with you, i’m wearing your shirt,” you continue, gesturing to the long sleeve currently swallowing you whole.

“you’re talkin’ my damn ear off too,” he breathes, wiping an arm over his mouth.

by date five, it was obvious that katsuki’s actions spoke louder than his words—which is impressive considering just how loud his words are. puddles lined the streets that evening, courtesy of the afternoon downpour. it was busy, drivers lost in their own little worlds as they drove past—and each and every time, katsuki would angle his body to the right just a bit. he cursed every last one of them who sped by, and he was absolutely miserable by the time you made it off the main roads but, at least you were dry.

“nevermind,” you say, sliding into a chair at the dining table. you’ve decided that, whatever this is—it’s good enough for you.

but it was on date one part two that katsuki knew you were it for him. after running out on you just three nights prior, he was glad you even showed up—but you went one step further. you sat there with that pretty smile on your face. no eye rolls, no guilt trips, and not a single snide remark or complaint. you even offered to pay for the meal—as if he would ever let you do such a thing, but he found it cute nonetheless. so, he owes you this.

“hey,” he barks, causing your head to snap up. the two plates he had set on the counter are full now, he must be done. “you’re mine.”

the look on your face must’ve said it all, because he’s choking back a laugh as he carries your plates over. you’re his? why did he blurt it out so casually? are you missing something?

“oh c’mon,” he huffs, plopping down in the seat next to you. he turns, trailing his eyes up and down your figure. “you slept on my damn side of the bed, in my fuckin’ shirt.”

he gave you this shirt—right before he told you to go wait bed while he tidied up—how the hell were you supposed to know he has a specific side?

“don’t play dumb,” he pauses, scowl growing as he watches you reach for a piece of food with your bare hands. he grabs your wrist, ushering for you to let him roll your sleeves up—like hell he’s gonna sit back and watch you get his shirt dirty.

he folds the fabric with precision, biting the inside of his cheek in an attempt to hide his smile—but he just can’t.

“y’already know you’re mine.”

note ; thank you for reading <3 might very well be ooc i dunno it’s my first time writing him officially >: rbs are appreciated !!

they accidentally confess to you over text

anime: jujutsu kaisen

characters: itadori yuji, fushiguro megumi, inumaki toge

a/n: just realised i put two different movies in itadori's one, just go with "train to busan" pls :((

"They don't teach us about that in school how am I supposed to know" well you seem to know a lot about Bakugou but they don't teach you about him in school. Do they

i do not have the strength to block all the bots. welcome ladies make yourselves at home i guess. im a feminist

11. A ladybug is too small to operate a forklift.