#‘only responding to the things that you said they’ve heard before and refusing to acknowledge or discuss anything else’

[halfricanloveyou]

sorry for subjecting my dear beloved mutuals to reading the words and opinions of a bunch of very stupid dudes who don’t know how to read but do know how to talk a lot.

got sorta fed up with being talked at all the time constantly with no ability to say what i actually think all the time so i actually did it for once until i felt better.

[blu-joons]

He Gets Jealous ~ Lee Jooheon

A soft sigh came from Jooheon as he sat between you and Minhyuk as you discussed an article that Minhyuk had come to you about a sighting in Jeju. The two of you had bonded almost immediately about your love for marine life, leaving Jooheon forgotten about.

The conversation you shared didn’t interest Jooheon at all, the things you both had to say went over his head. But the one thing he could pick up on, was your laughter, the way in which Minhyuk always could make you laugh.

“What do you think about heading down to Jeju next weekend?” Jooheon suddenly found himself hearing Minhyuk question. “We could go on a boat tour or something?”

Jooheon’s head only nodded back at Minhyuk, not exactly enthusiastic about a trip. He had been on one before with the others too, and whilst they all enjoyed the view, you and Minhyuk were obsessed with the creatures that were on show.

“If you two want to go, then book it up.”

“But what about you?” You questioned, being able to read by the expression on his face that he wasn’t thrilled with Minhyuk’s suggestion. “They’ve had some really cool sightings down on the island recently, some really fascinating stuff.”

Yet again, Jooheon nodded, but the more you spoke about the trip, the less interested he became. Whilst he loved how passionate you were about marine life; it wasn’t the only thing that you shared in common with Minhyuk. The two of you almost seemed as if you were the same people by how many things you both loved and were interested by.

“You can just stay here if you don’t like the thought,” you informed him, “neither of us would mind.”

Although you were a little quicker in being able to pick up on Jooheon’s mood, it didn’t take longer before Minhyuk began to notice the disapproving hints that Jooheon was dropping too, sensing that he’d done something wrong.

“It would be a really cool trip,” Minhyuk smiled, determined to put things right, “and if there’s something you want to try whilst we’re in Jeju, then of course, we can give that a go as well, what do you think?”

“I don’t really fancy going on a trip as a third wheel,” Jooheon told you both, “at least if I go on a trip with my girlfriend, I want to be the most important one to her.”

Straight away you looked across at Minhyuk, mouthing an apology across to him. The bitterness in his voice was clear, neither of you quite knew how to react, the trip was harmless, something you thought could be fun for all of you.

“Why can’t you give it a try?” Minhyuk suggested, “we can ask the others when we get together and have dinner tonight too, see what they think?”

As his frustrations began to bubble, Jooheon chose not to speak, shaking his head instead. Both you and Minhyuk were hurt by how quick Jooheon was to shut your idea down, especially when it was one that both of you thought would be such fun.

“If we let you organise the trip then we’d just sit on the beach all week,” you replied across to Jooheon, staring across to his eyes, “at least if we went to the beach tour, or maybe even a gallery, we’d actually get to do something.”

The more you spoke, the more the trip sounded like a dream for you and Minhyuk, but a nightmare for Jooheon. The two of you just weren’t on the same page, whilst your relationship was great, your interests were a complete divide.

“At least the two of you will enjoy yourselves, right?”

Before you could respond, Jooheon pushed his chair back, excusing himself from the room and heading straight for his bedroom. Both you and Minhyuk jumped at the sound of the door, meeting each other’s eyes helplessly.

“That was unfair of him to say, I’m sorry Minhyuk.”

“Maybe we have been neglectful of what he likes, but it’s just not the same.”

“He made that quite clear,” you smiled, “I’ll go and speak to him.”

You let go of a sigh as you made your way along the corridor to Jooheon’s room. You didn’t even bother knocking as you walked in and found him laid out on his bed, scrolling through his phone and refusing to acknowledge you.

Regardless, you walked across the room and took a seat on the end of his bed. “Do you want to tell me what that was all about?” You asked him, only for his head to shake. “It wasn’t a question Jooheon, it was a statement.”

“Just leave it, I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Tough,” you frowned, hitting your hand over the top of his feet that rested beside you. “I’m not one to jump to conclusions, but you sounded pretty jealous out there, you didn’t have to shut Minhyuk and I down quite like that.”

He knew he’d been harsh and abrasive towards the two of you, especially when you were willing to arrange a trip for him. But no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t get behind it, everything you wanted to do were things that he didn’t.

“What’s going on?” You pushed, “you can’t convince me that it’s nothing.”

“It’s not that big of a deal, just ignore me if I’m being problematic.”

“It’s becoming problematic when you won’t talk to me,” you argued back, “is this how things are going to be between the two of us now then?”

Jooheon threw his head back as he collapsed down onto his pillow, covering his face with his hands. Your head shook as he continued to close himself off, even though you could tell exactly what was going on with him.

It was one thing realising what was going on, but it was another thing admitting it. Jooheon hated to think of himself as jealous, but when you got along so well with Minhyuk, he only wished he could enjoy the things you loved with you in the same way that Minhyuk did.

He always thought with time he could learn to love what you did, but art, marine life, and so many other things never captured him the same way his own interests did. He loved seeing your passion, but your passion with Minhyuk always got under his skin.

“I love that you get along so well with the boys, don’t get me wrong,” Jooheon sighed, moving his hand away from his face, “but I hate that you have so much in common with Minhyuk, I feel like I can’t compare when you bond over so much.”

“You don’t need to compare, you’re your own person.”

“But he’s so much like you.”

Your head shook, reaching your hand out to pull him back up upright. “I love that Minhyuk enjoys what I do, but it’s the differences between the two of us that makes us so well suited.”

“I just wish that I could enjoy art galleries and things with you like Minhyuk does, I am appreciative that the two of you want to go to Jeju but hearing your plans for the trip just made me terrified that I would be a massive interruption.”

“Of course, not,” you laughed, “that’s why we offered to do things that you enjoy too, to make sure that it’s a trip that everyone can enjoy.”

Jooheon’s head nodded as he muttered an apology, shuffling forwards so that he could wrap his arms around your waist and pull you into him.

“The things we have planned in Jeju might not appeal to you, but when we sit down and dinner, maybe we can come up with an itinerary that everyone will enjoy, and understand that others have different interests as well?”

“That sounds like a really good idea.”

“And I promise to pretend that I enjoy what you want to do as well.”

His eyes rolled back at you, “and I promise that I will try and enjoy bobbing around in the sea on the boat staring at nothing.”

“Don’t be like that, you heard what Minhyuk said about the sightings.”

“Knowing our luck, we’ll see nothing.”

---

Masterlist

[miracleonice87]

anything with matty tkachuk! but maybe a fluffy one where it’s your first season living together after being long distance for awhile and it’s like the moments you guys go through? first fight, first night together, new game day rituals, etc.

a/n: the last of the requests for the moment! I’ll probably open them back up soon. here’s a piece with a few vignettes referred to in the request. enjoy! 

warnings: partners arguing, brief mention of sex

_____

Firsts

first night…

“You’re going to throw your back out.”

Matthew scoffed. “You think you’re so heavy but you weigh next to nothing,” he insisted, scooping his arm beneath the crooks of your knees, the other steady beneath your underarms as he lifted you off the ground.

You chuckled, covering your face with your hand shyly.

“Matthew,” you whined. He shook his head.

“Nope, we’re doing it,” he told you, walking toward the front door. “You’re finally moving in with me. We’re doing the cheesy ‘carry you over the threshold’ thing.”

You couldn’t argue with that. Smiling, you looped your arms around his neck and resigned to his resolve. A few yards more, and Matthew was kicking open the door with one foot.

As he stepped into the house, he let out an adorable “ta daaa!” and beamed at you.

“Welcome home, princess,” he said sweetly. You leaned in to kiss him and pinched gently at his cheek.

“Thank you, my love,” you said. Matthew put you down carefully and closed the door behind him. As you stepped forward into the living room — your living room — you spotted not only a gorgeous bouquet of blush pink roses, but also an overflowing gift basket filled with an array of your favorite items. The jasmine candles you always burned in your own apartment, the lavender tea you drank each night before bed, your favorite shampoo and conditioner, the shower gel you always stocked up on at your favorite St. Louis boutique — all of it, and more, was tucked inside.

“Baby…” you began breathlessly, running your hand along the perimeter of the wicker. “What did you do?”

Matthew approached from behind with a smile, wrapping his arms around your middle and burying a kiss in your hair.

“I just wanted you to have some things that’ll hopefully make you feel at home here,” he said somberly. “And I gotta admit, Taryn helped me track down the stuff from St. Louis,” he added with a chuckle.

You turned in his hold to face him, and he noted the glistening in your green eyes as he reached for your face.

“You are so sweet. Thank you, baby,” you said, pressing your lips against his. When you parted, Matthew noticed the way your bright smile had faded. He knew why.

As thrilled as you were to be moving in with Matthew at last after a full year of dating long distance, you were still anxious leaving your hometown of St. Louis. You couldn’t wait to start your life in Calgary with Matthew, but living so far from your family and childhood friends had you battling homesickness from the second you took off from Lambert. The reality had caused you to break down on the plane and was bringing tears to your eyes once more.

“You okay?” Matthew asked kindly, kissing your forehead repeatedly. You held his wrists and nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” you said.

“I know it’s not gonna be easy, sweetheart,” Matthew said, pulling you closer. “But your parents are welcome here anytime, and you can go visit them literally whenever you want. And you know my parents are gonna be up here way more now that you’re here. We all know they like you better than me,” he told you, pulling a giggle from you as you looked up at him with a smirk.

“There’s a smile,” he said. You nodded, sniffling.

“Trust me, Matthew, I’m so happy to be here with you,” you assured him. “This is where I’ve wanted to be for so long, and you’re so gracious for having me here. And I can’t believe how thoughtful these gifts were. The excitement I feel to start my life with you outweighs any sadness I’ll feel. Trust me on that.”

Matthew grinned, and you couldn’t help but reflect his joy in your own expression.

“I love you, princess,” he said, hugging you tight. “Welcome home.”

“I love you, too, Matthew,” you said against his shoulder.

_____

first fight…

It had taken a few weeks, but you soon settled into your new life in Calgary with little trouble. Spending every day with Matthew felt like a dream — you were both giddy when you hopped into bed together each night and woke up next to each other the following morning.

As Matthew began training camp, you found your own routine with your work as a freelance graphic designer. You only put in about twenty to thirty hours per week, which Matthew knew you did because you wanted to, not because you felt you needed to. He reminded you every so often that you could quit at any point if you no longer felt the need to work — though you told him not to hold his breath.

Matthew refused to let go of his housekeeper, as he wanted to save you from doing all of the chores, though you did insist on taking over the bulk of the household duties because you actually found them enjoyable — scheduling, grocery shopping, meal planning, cooking, laundry, and paying bills.

It was that last little item that caused the first tiff between you and Matthew since you had moved in with him — in fact, the first tiff the two of you had had in months.

One afternoon, after Matthew returned home from practice, he kissed your cheek and grabbed a glass of water before sitting down at the kitchen table to chat with you, as he did almost every day. As you worked on a logo design for a client, Matthew sat scrolling through his phone; then, eyebrows furrowing, he paused.

“Hey, babe?” he began. You acknowledged him with a distracted “hmm?” without looking away from your screen.

“It’s no big deal if so,” Matthew spoke, “but did you forget to pay the water bill this month? And maybe… maybe the electric bill, too? I don’t see that they’ve been deducted from my account yet, so I just wanna make sure they’re not late.”

Heat crept up your neck and chest as you slowly closed your laptop, pursing your lips to the side. When you didn’t respond right away, Matthew looked at you curiously.

You took a deep breath and pulled your legs underneath you, curling up and wishing you could hide from this altogether.

“Don’t be mad…” you said softly.

Not a good start, Matthew thought to himself. He clicked his phone to lock it and set it aside, folding his arms on the table.

“Babe…” he said, a warning in the single word.

You picked nervously at the seam of your leggings. “Okay. I kind of…” you cleared your throat, stalling. “I kind of paid those two out of my own account. But just those two. I swear.”

Matthew rolled his eyes, pushing himself out of his seat as he muttered, “oh, my god.”

Yep, he was pissed.

After pacing for a few moments, Matthew crossed his arms against his chest and faced you.

“I thought we talked about this,” he said, clearly frustrated.

You dropped your head. “I-I know…” you said timidly. “We did. I just-“

“And you paid them yourself anyway? Despite having already discussed it?” he questioned, his volume rising.

With lightly shaking hands, you tucked some hair behind one ear and swallowed hard, unable to meet his gaze, which was sure to be intense.

“Yes,” was all you could manage.

Matthew tossed his baseball cap on the table and sighed loudly, resuming his pacing across the hardwood.

“Baby, we can’t start out like this,” he said firmly. “I didn’t ask you to come live with me so we could split the cost of living like you’re some random roommate of mine. I asked you to move in because I want to share my life with you — I wanna share everything with you. I make more money than I’ll ever be able to spend, and you should not be spending your own money to pay our bills.”

As he spoke, you chewed anxiously on the inside of your cheek. When he paused, he sighed once more.

“Can you look at me, please?” he requested.

With a shaky inhale, you did as he asked, and his gaze softened the moment he saw the unease on your face.

“What’s goin’ on here, baby?” Matthew asked. “You’ve gotta talk to me. We’re partners.”

You pulled the sleeves of your sweatshirt down to cover your closed fists as you considered how even to answer him. Finally, you decided on a simple response.

“I feel like a mooch,” you said quietly, your eyes traveling downward again.

Out of your frame of vision, Matthew’s face fell. He felt sick at what he had just heard. He crossed the room swiftly, easily pulling out your chair and turning it to face him. He knelt before you and gathered your hands in his own.

“Princess… hey,” he said gently as he reached to smooth his hand over your hair. “Look at me.” This time, it wasn’t a question.

You forced yourself to look at him, finding immediate comfort in the tender way he was now looking at you as compared to before. He squeezed your thighs soothingly as he spoke again.

“You are anything but a mooch,” he said with conviction. “You are my girlfriend, who I love — who I’m obsessed with. You’re the person I want to spend my life with. I wanna take care of you in every way I possibly can, including financially. You know what I mean?”

You nodded slowly, unable to think of a convincing argument against him.

“I don’t want to fight about this with you,” Matthew continued, shaking his head. “We shouldn’t be fighting about money. Listen, if you want to spend your money on things that are only yours, that’s fine. Even though I really wish you wouldn’t even do that.” He muttered the last part and you offered the tiniest smile. “I don’t want you footing our bills, babe. You don’t need to worry about that. Okay? I want you to let me take care of all of that. Please?”

You nodded slowly. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I didn’t want to go behind your back. I just felt like I wanted to contribute.”

Matthew gave you a disbelieving expression. “Contribute? Babe, you contribute so much. You’ve barely been here a month and shit around here is more organized than it’s ever been. You’ve already got this place running like a well-oiled machine,” he told you as you breathed a chuckle. “You take care of me in countless ways. Let me handle the money. That’s the easy part.”

You let your head roll back with a sigh, knowing that Matthew was being the logical one in this instance. “Okay,” you agreed as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “I will. I’m sorry.”

Matthew shook his head, kissing the tip of your nose and then your lips. “Don’t be sorry,” he said. “Let’s just go upstairs and have make-up sex since this was our first fight in forever.”

You threw your head back in laughter. “You are something else,” you told your boyfriend, who was already picking you up out of your chair and toting you upstairs.

_____

first game…

As you stood in your closet selecting an outfit for Matthew’s home opener, you felt a familiar pair of arms snake around your waist and a set of lips you knew well come to rest on your cheekbone. A grin overtook your face.

“Good morning, sunshine,” you teased as Matthew relentlessly planted kisses on your skin. “How was your nap? I didn’t wake you, did I?”

You turned his direction, and Matthew shook his head. You smoothed the short curls atop his head and he nearly purred, making you laugh.

“My nap was good,” he said with a yawn. “And you’re gonna make me fall asleep again if you keep doing that.”

You snickered, kissing his jaw, before you turned back around and reached for a couple articles of hanging clothing.

“Once you pick what you’re wearing, can you make me a cup of coffee?” Matthew asked from behind.

Your brows pulled together, puzzled, and you cocked your head as you turned back toward him.

“Are you really that helpless?” you said in your best teasing tone.

Matthew rolled his eyes lightheartedly and said, “No, I can make my own, but I don’t want to. We’ve got a good thing going.”

You shook your head, amused. “Okay, I’m lost,” you told him, hanging your outfit on the back of the closet door to steam later. “What are you talking about?”

Matthew followed you out of the closet and toward the hall.

“You made me my coffee before the last three preseason games at home, remember? And we won them all,” he said matter-of-factly. “So yeah, if you don’t mind, we’re gonna keep that going. Unless you wanna be the reason we lose…”

“No!” you exclaimed immediately. Matthew laughed — he knew that would do the trick, as you were nearly as superstitious as he. “I’m going now,” you said. As you turned to descend the stairs, you glanced back at him, batting your lashes. “Cream and sugar?” you asked sweetly. 

Matthew laughed hysterically and tickled your sides as he followed you down to the kitchen, thankful once more that you were here to share not only his home with him, but his life. 

[yoitscro]

HOMESTUCK RAMBLE

The most troubling thing about the Sarah Z situation is that everything felt like damage control, tactical intimidation, and knee-jerked censorship. Right off the cuff of Hussie’s patreon message*.

(*Does anyone ever notice how Hussie only talks to the fandom when some kind of trouble eventually boils over, usually pointing a finger in one direction, versus addressing things earlier or addressing things period? Such as him having the power to speak against the actual anti queer jargon toward his employees prior to them leaving when things got worse? Or him mentioning the concerns of HS2 that people only found out through word of mouth and were reasonably upset about, such as them getting rid of the content warnings, or the fact that Hiveswap Act 2 was released without credits?

Would certainly make me less irritated if I didn’t know that that message is probably going to be one of his only few that he chooses to write and not mention other things, such as the returned antagonism toward fans. 

But this is also the same guy who continues to write passive aggressive messages in his comic and game scripts that calls everyone else a loser for still being mad about the racism and ableism. (Seriously, Psycholonials is just a vague post in game form and it’s chaotic as fuck to do things like using riots (racially prominent a year ago) in the toned environment of 2020 as goofy plot points. I thought we were suppose to do BETTER after Skaia Net.)

Idc if he’s not apart of WP anymore. Even then, he certainly left a lot of baggage for other people to handle. It’s incredibly irresponsible.

Anyways.)

Those journals have existed forever. Whether right or wrong, they have. They’ve gone unaddressed despite being known for existing. A big name youtuber giving an auditory version that doesn’t take up all the video probably shouldn’t have been the reason that fans finally got some kind of answer, and it’s blatantly transparent that it was to protect the IP from having it’s name tarnished. As if Homestuck doesn’t already have issues that it refuses to acknowledge after a decade that everyone else has talked about.

I can imagine that some kind of NDA was keeping them from talking about Hiveswap to their kickstarter backers, but the convenience of that expiring once Sarah said something gives me an inkling that the people who’ve actually stuck around to support Homestuck could’ve heard sooner. Not to mention that before this big blowout, people just wanted to know that the game was being worked on period. There was actually no NDA preventing that communication.

People wonder why there’s such a rift between WP and the homestuck community, and it’s stuff like that. The fact that Hussie only comes down to address damage when it piles up to a breaking point, rather than earlier. The fact that if you have one criticism, friends or associates of the people who write their favorite characters will maul you in the name of whatever marginalized group they happen isolate you from.

And at the end of it all, it’s almost like some big, surface level moral, because no one cared 3 days after Sarah’s video. Everyone treated it like usual youtube commentary essays about troubling developments and moved on.

Instead, now, still, everyone cares about the fact that an opinion video about Homestuck was getting legal threats during 4/13. After years of a troubled relationship with it’s fandom, this was the last thing they needed to do. I’m trying to wrap my head around what the favorable outcome was here; to look GOOD?

I can’t even imagine what this stunt looks like to other studios and IP groups. I wonder if Homestuck is secretly blacklisted at this point because so much bad behavior has been normalized instead of having a healthy blend between criticism and sympathy.

BC again, a transphobic bigot sending death threats bc homestuck “isn’t what it use to be”, and responding to that rightfully, isn’t the same as someone thinking that more jarring post-canon content and execution of things like toblerone wishes suck some, and figureheads deciding to insult minors, stir character drama, and call other bulk criticisms from the queer community homophobic or transphobic. That in fact loses support, money, and causes infighting, actually.

I’ve never seen a fandom decline in stable activity as hard as 2019-2020 Homestuck.

This is the part where I say that my caliginous crush from wanting to see this IP improve itself flares up from time to time, but is starting to die down knowing that, unless there’s a massive overhaul on how things are run, things aren’t changing...seriously. There are things HS can do even without Viz Media’s overbearing presence, but it doesn’t want to. Starting a feud on your holiday wasn’t one of those things to do, maybe, actually.

I think it’s telling that it’s actually bad enough that I usually refrain from talking as much as I am now, because some part of me knows that some ex WP member, or a friend of one, is reading this and potentially sharing it in whatever snotty chat to once more emphasize how evil of a person I am for saying what everyone else is thinking, lmao.

I think that if anyone wants to pride themselves in not being “terminally online” and in fandom, they should refrain from putting their hands on a story that’s literally embedded and literally about it’s fandom. Go join a private discord instead, or try a different franchise. Maybe have some self awareness. Just a thought.

Anyways, the trust is tainted. The fallout has been followed by quiet, and the current members are reshaping the ground of this community before the weeds eventually rear their heads again.

[theeslytherinslut]

12 Grimmauld Place (8/?)

Pairings: Sirius Black (post-Azkaban) x reader, Remus Lupin x reader’s brother, Sirius Black x Slytherin!reader

Word Count: 2,130

Warnings: gross imagery

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 9 |

A/N: Next chapter will have the trio! Don’t worry the smut is inbound, I love me a slow burn lol. I have a feeling this will be a fairly long story, possibly pushing 20 chapters cause I’m only just coming up on the storyline I had in mind lmao

As Snape pushed open the hospital wing doors, the girlish voice you'd heard earlier returned, and this time you were stunned to find it was arguing with Dumbledore. Surely no student in their right mind would argue with Dumbledore.

“I’m afraid that whatever is behind that door doesn’t concern you, Madam Undersecretary,” Dumbledore said serenely. Glancing warily at Sirius, you found him giving you the same look. So it wasn’t a student. You recognized the title as well, possibly from filling out paperwork for work. Work...the Ministry...Sirius Black sitting right next to you, a very much wanted Sirius Black. 

“Sirius, it might be best you transform now." Madame Pomfrey said before you could. Sirius shot her a shocked look, and she shook her head. "Oh, don't look so shocked. Of course I know--and I'm not the only one, you know. Now, go on. I don’t believe that woman is going to be sated by Dumbledore.” 

And sure enough, a second later, the woman pushed open the doors, and Sirius’ hand slipped from yours. Looking over, in Sirius’ spot sat a large black dog, panting slightly. Bewildered, you stared at Sirius’ new form as a small, toad-looking old woman pulled back your separating curtains. 

“What is this?” she hissed, looking to Madame Pomfrey. She was dressed entirely in an alarming shade of pink, which made her resemble a bubblegum ball. Feeling slightly nauseated, you tore your eyes away from her vivid color, but not before noticing her face was also pink in agitation. 

“This is a patient,” Madame Pomfrey responded icily, barely looking up from your leg. Thankfully, it seemed she’d ceased her draining until Sirius was able to support you once more. 

“She isn’t a student, what’s she doing here?” the woman asked, barely looking at you.

“She used to be,” you retorted, stung by the lack of empathy. She seemed not to hear you, but instead stared expectantly at Madame Pomfrey. 

“I shall treat any who seek medical attention, regardless of their status within the school.” Madame Pomfrey said, drawing herself up to her full height. 

“I don’t believe that’s your decision to make, dear.” the woman said in a sickly sweet voice. Your temper flared.

“As Headmaster, I bestow upon Madame Pomfrey the ability to treat whoever she sees fit. So, unless you plan to bodily remove Mrs. Y/L/N, I don’t see why this conversation can’t be continued in a more conducive setting. I do believe we’re keeping Y/N’s wounds from being drained.” Dumbledore said, gesturing down to your leg. “Decaying drought,”

The woman let out a ghastly noise as she looked down, and you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, that’s nice. Really love being gasped at, as if being mauled weren’t enough.” you quipped, unable to hold your tongue. Sirius growled at the woman, and her eyes fell to him.

“There! Now that can’t be sanitary, can it? It’ll have to go,” the woman said, reaching out to pull Sirius from the room. It seemed she was determined to assert some sort of authority over the situation. Sirius growled more loudly and now raised himself to stand on all four legs; whatever dog breed he’d chosen was massive, and he stood almost as tall as she did. Looking at him, he looked truly terrifying. His long fangs glinted in the light pouring in from the massive windows and his hackles were raised as he viciously growled at the squat woman before you. He looked more wolfish than like a dog. 

“I’d advise against that, Madame Undersecretary. I do believe he holds a certain affinity for Y/N. Dragging him from her bedside might not get you the results you so wish to receive.” Dumbledore smiled fondly down at Sirius, who still stood barring his long fangs at the woman. 

“Well,” she gasped, pulling her short, stubby hand from Sirius’ reach. “Cornelius shall be hearing all about this, Dumbledore. I must say it is most unusual for a prior student to be treated by staff during the school year, nevertheless joined by her mangy mutt.”

“I should expect nothing less,” Dumbledore said, serene as ever, “Now, shall we? Unless you wish to see the effects of an expertly made decaying drought on the human body?

She made a face and peered back down at your angry leg, and you were sure to meet her gaze with an icy glare. She cast a look around at the group of you, and you suddenly remembered Remus’ unconscious body in the next compartment. Hoping she wouldn't look around, you held her eyes with a glare. Thankfully, she seemed unable to find anything worth staying for and allowed Dumbledore to sweep her from the room.

Madame Pomfrey let out a string of words that made you proud, and you smiled at a now human Sirius, his hand slipping back in yours.

“That was Dolores Umbridge. Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, and by all accounts, simply the very worst of humanity.” Sirius explained, absentmindedly running his thumb along the outside of your hand. Madame Pomfrey still bustled about agitatedly, but you knew she’d soon return to you. 

“What’s she doing here? Surely Dumbledore would never hire such a horrible woman?” you asked. It’d been a while since you’d been at Hogwarts, but that you knew.

“Of course not. She was placed here by the Minister. Fudge is becoming intensely paranoid--and about all the wrong things. As I’m sure you’re very much well aware of, he refuses to acknowledge,” and casting a look at Madame Pomfrey, he cut himself off, “You-Know-Who’s return. Instead of dealing with the real enemy--the only true enemy of the whole of the wizarding world--he instead has set his sites on Dumbledore. As I’m sure you’ve read, he’s already got the Daily Prophet to work on subduing and poisoning the public against him and his claims. They’ve even begun to go after Harry now, too. Cowards. Complete and utter sodding tossers, the whole lot of them--”

“Sirius, there are students in here,” Madame Pomfrey hissed, swatting him lightly with an empty medicine bottle.

“Sorry, Poppy. Anyway, Fudge -is so deluded he thinks Dumbledore is using Hogwarts to train up young wizards for a fresh, formidable, wizard army.” Sirius said

“He’s what?!” you laughed, sure he must be exaggerating.

“He’s gone completely round the twist. Thinks Dumbledore’s training up all these children to get them to storm and take over the Ministry. Utterly fuck--sorry, completely nutters. So, he’s placed Umbridge at Hogwarts, fulfilling both the vacant position of Defense Against the Dark Arts and a fiercely loyal mole. Word is he’s working on drawing up the plans to take over the school completely. This just being the first of many steps.” Sirius explained. Madame Pomfrey leaned in and gasped at his story.

“Take over the school? That wretched woman?” she said, holding her hand to her mouth in horror. Sirius nodded grimly, and a look of intensity came over Madame Pomfrey’s features.

“Well, I don’t cave so easily,” she said, sniffing haughtily at the thought of being under Umbridge’s thumb.

“Spoken like a true Gryffindor,” Sirius smiled up at her.

“Gryffindor?” you said, shocked. I mean, it made sense for Madame Pomfrey to attend Hogwarts in her youth, but you’d never really thought about it--much less what house she’d belong in.

“Yes, Gryffindor, but I never let that cloud my judgment, Slytherin,” she sneered playfully at you. You and Sirius let out a laugh, yours dying much quicker as she came back towards you.

“Alright, dear, last one. It looks like his pinky claw didn’t quite reach you,” she said, grimacing as she spoke.

Wrapping my fingers around the bed frame and Sirius’ hand, you nodded. 

And like always, it was hell. Screaming, you tried to quiet yourself, but it was to no avail. Your mouth seemed to have a mind of its own as she worked her way down your leg, pushing out the rotting flesh

“Y/N?!” a voice yelled groggily. Cursing, Sirius slipped from your grasp and disappeared from view. Despite Sirius’ absence, Madame Pomfrey continued. 

“Almost done, ‘few more seconds, dear,” she said.

Casting a look down, your head spun at the image below you. Your limb looked more zombie-like than human. It was a horrible mixture of deep burgundy, black as the infection ran down your leg, and purple from your enlarged veins highlighting here and there.

“Remus! Contain yourself!” Sirius scolded. You knew you should shut your mouth to calm him, but it didn’t seem possible with the imagery added to the sensation. Finally, she stopped, and you fell back against the pillows once more, vision blacking round the edges as you fought to regain your breath. 

Then, what sounded like a dull thud followed by a groan sounded, and Remus burst through the curtains. What he saw brought him to his knees.

“Would you believe me if I told you it’s not as bad as it looks?” you said, trying to force out a laugh. It came out as a strangled cough, though, as your throat was raw from yelling.

“It’ll be alright, Remus. She’ll be fine by this time tomorrow, come on,” Madame Pomfrey fretted over Remus, and you could see her soft spot for your brother remained.

“But...” he trailed off. Words seemed to fail him, and he gestured weakly to your grotesque limb.

“Well, sit down, drink this,” she said, forcing a lavender-colored liquid into his slightly shaking hands. “Calm down, and we’ll explain. If you go roaring off again, I’ll have to knock you out with something much stronger than the last,” she threatened, lowering her eyes at Remus. With a sudden fondness, you remembered her disdain for chaos in her wing.

“Oh, Sirius,” she sighed. He’d just come in clutching a bloody nose, but seemed amused rather than angry.

“Remus!” you said, shocked at your brother.

“It’s quite alright, love. If someone were trying to keep me from you while you were screaming like that, I’d do the same.” Sirius smiled at you. A tingly feeling brewed in your chest at his words. “Excellent right hook, Moony,” he complimented, bowing slightly at his friend.

Tonks followed in soon after, rolling her eyes at the two of them. You met her eyes, and the both of you mouthed ‘men’ at each other whilst shaking your head.

As Remus laughed weakly at Sirius and downed the rest of the liquid, a small boy in scarlet and gold came to collect Tonks. With a wave and a glance back at Remus, she was gone. The effects of the potion were instantaneous; his hands ceased their shaking, he sat up a little straighter and took a deep breath.

“Now, then,” Madame Pomfrey sighed, “Her leg. It seems our favorite furry little friend seemed discontent with the marring effects of his claws alone and dipped them in what we’ve found to be a decaying drought.” 

Bracing yourself for his reaction, you were extremely shocked to find him reasonable still.

“You’ve got Severus making the antidote, then?” Remus asked logically. 

“I’ll take a dozen of whatever that was for later,” you breathed at Madame Pomfrey. Remus was such a reasonable, logical person in every situation, except when it came to you. When it came to you, however, he was much more reminiscent of his wolfish counterpart.

Everyone laughed lightly at your comment, and you sat up slightly, most of the pain fading. 

“So, what now?” I asked.

“Now, dear. You rest. Though, I daresay at some point your friend here will have a trio of visitors,” she said, twinkling at Sirius.

Sirius smiled in realization, and you were happy he got to see his godson early--even if it did take you suffering from a poisonous werewolf attack.

“I’ll be staying, Poppy,” Remus said, pulling up a chair. You opened your mouth to reason with him, but he stopped you by lifting his hands, and you sighed--there was only so much the potion could do.

She cast wary glances at Sirius and Remus.

“You know, I don’t believe there was a single night in which the two of you were in here that didn’t end in various bangs, pop, and screams.” Suddenly, her demeanor was very intense and McGonagall-like. “The first will be tonight. Or you’ll both end up in an empty cot!”

“Poppy, we are adults, you know,” Remus reminded her, smiling lightly.

“Oh, like that ever stopped you lot,” Madame Pomfrey said, giving them each a stern stare as she left.

“We’ll be on our very best behavior, Poppy,” Sirius said solemnly, though the mischievous twinkle in his eyes gave him away.

 “You two will be the death of me,” she sighed, whisking away back to her desk, a concerned look on her face. 

******************************

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[the-toasted-teacake]

Hi, can you read the following and let me know your thoughts please? Would mean a lot. It’s my first bit of Carlando writing. Love your writing!! Also your blog too! Hope it’s not too much to ask!! It turned out to be a lot of words but once I started I couldn’t stop, thanks if you do read it!!

………………..

 Two days.

That’s all he had to wait until he could see Carlos. If he’s honest with himself he hadn’t realised till now how much counting down he had done the last week whilst he’d been away with family and friends. If he’s overly honest with himself he didn’t want to acknowledge the amount of counting down done. That would be too much honesty for Lando.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t enjoyed his time away with his family and friends in Croatia and the several other places they’d travelled to on the stunning boat they’d hired for ten days, it was just that he really couldn’t wait to be in Carlos’ company again. He wouldn’t have been half as bothered about seeing Carlos again if it weren’t for the fact they’d practically spent no time together in the first half of the season.

There was no doubt about it, since Carlos had left McLaren and Daniel had came in, it hadn’t been the same. Not only because of the new atmosphere Daniel bought, but also because Lando had nowhere near seen Carlos as much as he used to. Different hotels each race weekend. No more Carlos living half an hour away in a car and definitely nowhere near as much Fifa. It hadn’t been easy. That’s where Lando drew the line at admitting how difficult it had been though because any further admittance of this made it look like he couldn’t cope and was a massive cry baby missing his old teammate far too much. If he’s overly honest again, he really hadn’t given Daniel the time of day due to still being in complete shock that Carlos had actually left McLaren. It had been a shock since day one of finding out and the shock hadn’t left his system.

Lando was a bit nervous about seeing Carlos again. He was hoping that all the unspent time together hadn’t created an awkward atmosphere between the two of them, he was sure it hadn’t, but you never know. Anyway, even if it did, they had plenty of activities to enjoy to forget about any awkwardness. Lando was flying from Greece over to the Balearic Islands where Carlos was with some of his family and friends. He felt bad that he was leaving Max and the rest of his friends in Greece but he couldn’t refuse Carlos’ offer of four nights spent together as they would be immediately separated again the week later by their hectic F1 world’s.

Just two little days to go he thought. If he could make it five whole months without properly seeing Carlos, then he could definitely last two more days.

And what a two days it was.

Lando had the best two days of the entire holiday, probably because he tried to enjoy it more due to knowing he was leaving them early. What a reward he was getting at the end of those two days as-well; four nights spent with Sainzy. How lucky he was. He could barely contain his excitement once he’d said Goodbye to Oliver and Savannah at the port. Oliver had noticed and had obviously teased him about it. “This is the most excited I’ve seen you all holiday and of course it’s as your abandoning ship to see Carlos”. Lando had just laughed in response. “Tell him I said hi and to not injure my younger brother before the second half of the season starts please” Oliver said as Lando got into the car taking him to the airport. Again, He just got a laugh in response. It was more of a scoff really as Lando knew Carlos would never put him in danger. He never had done, if anything he’d protected him at all costs.

The closer he got to landing, the more the butterflies came. He didn’t know why, but he knew they were definitely there. A few deep breaths later and he regained a little bit of composure. Nervous about seeing Carlos? No surely not. Sort your self out Norris he said to himself quietly.

The airport was busy so he made his was through it as quickly as possible. He really didn’t want to be noticed right now. Eventually he found himself in the arrivals terminal where he was expecting someone to be waiting for him as previously mentioned by Carlos over text. He couldn’t seem to find his name being held up by anyone though. Just keep walking and you’ll find it he thought. Out of nowhere a voice shouted “Landoooo”. He froze immediately. He was hearing things surely. Carlos had not came himself to the airport to get him. No way. Surely he had sent someone.

He eventually plucked up the courage to look over to where the voice came from and stopped dead in his tracks. His feet were frozen to the floor and he couldn’t move. The butterflies had well and truly taken over. It was Carlos. Carlos had came to get him from the airport. Carlos had got into a car and drove to the airport to pick him up. Why was this such a big deal to Lando? Maybe it was just the surprise of seeing him this soon after just landing on the Spanish island. Yes definitely surprised.

He hadn’t even noticed how close Carlos had gotten to him until he heard his name being shouted right at his face. “Mate are you ok?” Lando just smiled and asked him what he was doing here. Of course Carlos had replied teasing him. “What, are you not happy to see me?” Lando laughed and finally gave him a long awaited hug. Once that was out of the way, Carlos took Lando’s case and began walking towards the exit of the terminal. Lando protested “You don’t have to take that I can manage” “I know but you are my guest and I am your chauffeur so this is my job”. Fair enough Lando thought.

Once they’d got into the car and left the airport it was Lando’s turn to tease. “So Mr Sainz Jr. couldn’t wait to see me that much, that he had to collect me himself from the airport.” Carlos laughed and looked over to Lando smiling, he quietly said “I’ll admit it, I am excited to see you, but the driver cancelled last minute so here I am.” “Anyway, having me pick you up should be an honour, I am the best chauffeur about.” Lando just responded with a nod. Carlos seemed to easily be able to worm his way out of being teased, he had done it effortlessly, to the point where Lando wasn’t sure why he had bothered to tease him in the first place.

For the first time since they’d got in the car Lando looked out of the window properly, he could already see the sea in the distance and the landscape around them was stunningly breathtaking. He was sure he was going to enjoy the few nights he had here.

After a bit of small talk of how their summer breaks had gone so far they settled into a comfortable silence. Lando took this as his opportunity to check his phone. After he’d replied to a few texts and checked a few notifications he placed the phone back into his pocket. He wanted to put a story on of chauffeur Carlos, but he was sure that would overload the Carlando world. These few days were supposed to be about them two finally getting to spend time together and having fun so there was no point in advertising it to the world this early on into the trip.

Once they got nearer to Carlos’ house Lando asked “So who’s at the house then, which members of the Sainz family do I have the pleasure of spending time with?” Carlos looked at Lando with confusion and he thought maybe he’d said something wrong until Carlos responded “I thought I’d told you, it’s just us two. My mum and dad left a few days ago and my sister and her husband left yesterday.” Oh, Lando thought. He was sure Carlos hadn’t mentioned it because he was definitely not under the impression that it was purely just them two for five whole days. Wait. “What about Isa and all of your friends?” “What, you don’t want to spend time with me, you want to see everyone else but not me?” Carlos said as he laughed. Back to teasing again Lando noticed. “No it’s not that, I just didn’t know it was just us two in one big house, I saw everyone on your Instagram and presumed we’d have lots of company.” Carlos just looked at him funny “Yeah my friends were here but they’ve all left too, I thought I’d get rid of them because they all talk far too much Spanish for you.” WHAT. Carlos had gotten rid of his friends for him? Before Lando could panic too much, Carlos added “Just joking mate, they all had to go home back to their lives and Isa has some work in London so she left a couple of days ago too.” So it really was just them two, not a single other person. Lando could swear that Carlos always knew when he was panicking because he always managed to swiftly change the topic of conversation. “Anyway we’re having burgers for dinner tonight, thought I’d cook your favourite for your first night in Casa Sainz” he said with a very thick Spanish accent. And with that swift change of topic Lando didn’t have anymore time to think about it just being them two, he’d also remembered the dogs where there so at least he had someone. Even if they were animals.

Lando’s first opportunity to have some time for his own thoughts came half an hour later when Carlos had shown him to his room and excused himself to go and start dinner. Lando hadn’t seen quite as beautiful of a view before. He was lucky he had this from his balcony attached to the room Carlos had gave him, the sunset was gorgeous and he had the perfect shot from where he was to view it. Time for a quick story he thought. Once the story (without a location) was posted he unpacked his things and changed into a comfier shirt and shorts. His mind drifted off to the conversation they’d had in the car. Carlos had definitely not told him it was just them two for the five days, so why did he think that he had. Maybe it wasn’t a big deal to him but it definitely was for Lando. How could he have failed to mention it. He was already worried about any awkwardness due to the lack of time spent together this year, so the news of it being just them two had caused full blown panic in his head. How would he cope. He quickly realised he may be overthinking this way too much and he didn’t want to turn into a complete mess on the fist night so he grabbed his phone and took off downstairs, that way he couldn’t give himself any more time to dwell on it.

“You like the view, yes?” Carlos asked as Lando approached him in the kitchen, Carlos held up his phone to show him that he’d seen his story. He added “Im glad you didn’t tag the location, I put a story on this morning of me lying next to my boat, so the Carlando world would, how’d you say it, go crazy wild? You know if they knew you were in the same place as me.” For the record, Lando had seen the story but Carlos didn’t need to know that. “Oh really? Good job I didn’t then, to be honest I thought the same before in the car, I wanted to post a chauffeur Carlos story whilst you were driving, but the Carlando world is not ready for that” he said as he laughed. Carlos laughed too and smiled at him acknowledging that they were both on the same page. Maybe a story in a day or two would be fine but not just yet. The world could wait for Carlando content, they’d already waited the whole of this year so what was a couple more days for the previously promised Carlando content. “As for the view, yes I love it, it’s stunning. Thanks for giving me that room and letting me stay.” Carlos smiled once more and Lando could’ve sworn the thanks had made him blush for a second. “No problemo Mr Norrisio.” “Go and set the table outside for me, dinner will be ready in a few minutes.”

The two men sat and enjoyed their burgers outside under the night sky and spoke like no time had passed at all since Carlos had left for Ferrari. They didn’t even have to discuss racing to fill any awkward silences. Carlos had even persuaded Lando to have a few glasses of wine with him. It wasn’t often Lando drunk, but he was on his holidays and he was with Carlos so why not he’d thought. Maybe it was the warm air or maybe it was the wine but Lando started to notice Carlos’ gazing eyes more and more throughout the evening. Carlos was practically staring at him. Eventually he’d had enough of it and plucked up the courage to say “why do you keep looking at me like that?” Gulp. Had he really just said that, why did he say that. Oh dear. He had no clue why he had just out right asked that. No more wine for him. To his surprise, carlos didn’t even hesitate to answer. “Sorry, I just noticed for the first time how much you’ve grown. You’ve seriously changed...Not a little boy no more si?” The smile on Carlos’ face was accompanied with another blush, and it was noticed by Lando for the second time that night. Lando laughed and posed with his muscles by his head. He was no body builder but he had been working hard to build muscle. He was tired of being the small one on the grid so him and Jon had been working on bulking for quite a while now. Carlos laughed in response to the pose, “You’ll get there mate, not there yet, but you’ll get there.”

Once they’d finished dinner Carlos had sleepily asked Lando If he wanted to watch a film before they settled for the night, Lando of course had said yes, he couldn’t wait for another movie night with Carlos. This would be their first movie night since Austria 6 weeks ago. He felt lucky to even have that, Carlos had been so busy this season that their movie night in Austria had been there only one this year. Their movie nights always consisted of great films and great banter, it was usually films Lando had never seen before that also happened to be Carlos’ favourites. He wondered what they’d end up watching tonight. “We’ll watch shawshank redemption tonight, ok?” “Yes sure. Never seen it so should be interesting.” “Landooo I don’t understand how you never seen any films, do you live under a rock, yes?” Lando laughed at how he’d said his name, god he’d missed that. Gulp. No don’t admit that. Moving quickly on from that. “I never have time, too busy beating your ass on the simulator.” He wasn’t wrong. Carlos laughed and said “ahhh yes true, but you will never beat me in FIFA.” More laughter was the reply.

They settled into the film. Lando was sat down comfily with his back pressed up to the enormous couch pillow behind with his feet up on the coffee table in front of them, Carlos in the exact same position next to him. Lando grabbed a pillow to hold as he felt he needed something to cling onto for comfort. About half way through the film, Lando noticed Carlos was getting sleepy as he was slouching and leaning into the couch more and more, must be the wine he thought. Why was he not feeling sleepy also though? Maybe because his mind was on overdrive about the FACT that it was just them TWO. Up until this moment he hadn’t given himself time to actually think about it. FIVE whole days with Carlos, he couldn’t believe it to be honest. If someone had told him a month ago this would be the case, he would have laughed at them and told them to stop chatting nonsense.

As if he’d noticed Lando’s panicking, Carlos shot over a look at him, and whispered “are you enjoying the film?” “Yes it’s good, your getting tired though so it’s ok if you want to settle down for the night.” “How do you know I’m getting tired, huh? Are you a reader of the mind?” He poked him in the ribs as he said that and made Lando jump a bit from the unexpected feeling in his ribs. Lando couldn’t help but laugh at him, he knew he was tired yet he didn’t want to admit it to him because he had 100% noticed that Lando was not tired, it was cute really. Carlos was cute. Gulp. Best not to think on that too much. Gaining some composure after being poked in the ribs, he thought about saying let’s just finish watching the film but he settled on “Carlos, you are obviously tired you’ve got that sleepy look and I don’t want to keep you awake any longer than you need to be, come on, lets just finish the film tomorrow, we have plenty of time over the next few days to finish watching it.” “Huh, sleepy look ai? What does the ‘sleepy look’ look like?” He responds whilst continuing to poke Lando some more. Ok Lando thought, he wants to play poke wars. We’ll see about that, Lando pulled a funny face and poked him back “You go all slouchy like this” as he slid himself down the couch and then said “and your eyes go like this” as he flickered his eyes open and shut. Carlos was laughing loud now at the sight in front of him. The wine had definitely encouraged the silliness from the two grown men who were supposed to be watching quite an emotional and serious film. However, the film was long forgotten about at this point.

The poking continued as did the laughter for at least another 5 minutes. In fact you could argue that they were full blown play fighting now. 2 adult men play fighting. From a distance if you were viewing this sight of them, you would think there was more in this than two friends play fighting. They grabbed each other so harshly that knuckles were white. Also the looks they gave each other were way too intense, Lando wondered if they’d be able to do this if Isa were here, maybe it was best she wasn’t. That’s what made him stop immediately. He let go of Carlos immediately which must have been unexpected as Carlos literally fell on top of him with a small thud. A short-lived silence fell amongst the two of them. Carlos spoke first. “Ouch, why’d you stop?” He gazed down at Lando without moving almost like he was frozen on top of him. Lando hadn’t a clue what to say back, he was stuck gazing back at him, also frozen. After what felt like an eternity of staring into his eyes, he finally spoke. “Ha ha, sorry. Figured you were gonna win anyway so I gave up.” Cool as a cucumber. Played that smoothly Norris. He thought he’d deflected really well from the real reason he’d stopped. But why was Carlos not moving off of him. Lando really thought he’d move any second now or more hoping he would because his stare was becoming unbearable, what was going on? Was something wrong? They’d finished play fighting what felt like an eternity ago so usually Carlos would well be off of him by now. But here he was, flat out on top of him, gazing down at his face literally centimetres away from him.

“God I’ve missed this.”

WHAT.

Where had that come from?! Lando just opened his mouth forming an o shape. The shock took over and he was sure Carlos was looking back at him wondering what on earth was he thinking. They were both so still, not a single bit of movement at all. They were so close that it looked like they’d been moulded together like a sculpture. This was probably the longest look they’d ever given each other. Neither knew what to say. Carlos looked surprised he’d said it. Lando looked surprised he’d heard it. He had to say something. The silence couldn’t continue. The first thing he could think of. Quick. “I’ve missed this too.” SHIT. WHAT. No. What had he done. What a stupid thing to say. Carlos was smiling now. Gulp. That smile was everything.

Without another second passing Carlos decided he had to make a joke out of this, it had become too intense between the pair of them so some light hearted humour was needed. “Awww mate that was sooo cute” the exaggeration of the words so and cute was very much needed. Carlos finally climbed off of him. Lando shuddered from the coldness he felt without Carlos on top of him. If he’s completely honest he didn’t want him to get off of him. He didn’t mind it. But surely that was crossing a line. Yes definitely crossing a line. Lando sat up straight almost immediately dismissing the thought, he had to go to bed. Carlos definitely had to go to bed. That gave him a thought of how to make a joke out of this. “Awww there’s that sleepy voice, told you that your sleepy.” Carlos looked down at him (as he was now standing) almost in disbelief that he’d managed to gain the upper hand. This boy had gotten braver than he used to be, it was true, Lando had changed and Carlos had definitely noticed it. He had especially noticed it today. Having the one on one time with him had made sure of that. Not only had Lando physically changed but he’d grown way more confident. If Carlos was completely honest with himself it made him feel a bit sad, his little friend was not so little anymore and perhaps he maybe did not need him as much as he used too. Had anyone of asked though, he would never admit to this making him sad.

Lando got up from the couch and placed the pillow that had fell on the floor during their play fight back on the couch neatly. He turned back round to Carlos and wished him goodnight, a quick hug and he was out of there. Practically running up the stairs to his bedroom. Leaving Carlos stood there all alone to think about what had just unfolded amongst the two of them. He hadn’t quite meant to let slip he’d missed them play fighting or whatever it was they did. And he definitely had not meant to express it the way he had done to his younger friend. But truth be told, he really had missed him. And having him back here now in his house had got him so excited he just had to tell him. Of course he did. It’s not like he regretted it but he could see the complete shock in Lando’s eyes once he had.

As Carlos tidied the living room he thought about Lando’s response. First the shock and then the silence and then finally…he missed it too! Even if he knew he had said it in a panic it still meant something. He could tell it was said in a panic because Lando never admitted anything. Especially not missing him, it had even become a joke in their press conferences last year. The joke was how much Lando did not want to admit he would miss Carlos. You could not get him to say it to anyone. But he did. And that made Carlos very happy, probably more happy than it should. Once he’d finished tidying the living room he turned off the lights and walked up the stairs. He thought about knocking on Lando’s door just to say another goodnight and check if he needed anything as he had run off rather quickly. But he decided against it. He knew not to bother Lando when he ran away, and he didn’t want to make things awkward, that was the last thing either of them needed. Once he got to his room he quickly checked his phone. A message from one of his friends thanking him for the week away showed up and that made Carlos beam, he was so happy he was able to share his house with his friends. It had been such a good week with them all. Once he’d replied to that he saw another message pop up. It was Isa. Shit. He hadn’t text her all day. Hadn’t even thought about it. He’d been too busy getting the house ready for Lando and buying dinner to cook for him. He was sure she’d be a bit annoyed he hadn’t messaged to ask how London was. And as he read the message this thought was confirmed. It read ‘Hi, haven’t heard off you all day? Everything ok? London’s as rainy as usual, missing the Spanish weather!’ Yep she definitely had noted that he hadn’t text her. Nor had he text her back. He only just realised that her message was sent 4 hours ago. Shit. Before he had time to start replying he heard a noise out in the hall. He looked towards the door. Someone was definitely moving out on the hall. It must be Lando, maybe he wants to talk about what happened, probably not. He got up to go and have a look and sure enough he opened the door to find Lando standing in the middle of the hall looking confused.

Lando was just about to close his eyes and try and get some sleep when he realised he hadn’t set an alarm for the morning. Nor did he know what time to set the alarm for the morning. He’d just ran out of the living room as quick as possible and now he needed to go and find Carlos to ask what time he needed him up for in the morning. They were going running together and he knew Carlos liked his early morning runs. Oh god, 1) why did he agree to the run and 2) why would he not just ask Carlos downstairs instead of running off. Because now he had to see him again right after that incident (if you could even call it that) had happened. Without a second to think he quickly climbed out of bed and walked out into the hall, suddenly realising he hadn’t put a shirt on so was just in his boxers and he didn’t actually know which room was Carlos’. Right at the moment he heard a door open. Shit. It had scared him slightly in the dark. He glanced over to the door to find Carlos looking at him confused. “Uhh hey, sorry I realised I never knew which one was your room when I came to find you.” Carlos was even more confused now, why was Lando trying to find him and why did he practically have no clothes on. Lando looked very awkwardly over to Carlos noticing the look Carlos had give his body and said “sorry yeah I just forgot to put some shorts and a top on. I’d gone to bed so had took them off”. God he was rambling he knew he was but he couldn’t be stopped. “Sorry err did I wake you up?” Before he could ramble some more Carlos suddenly walked out into the hall to join him, so he could see him better. “Well thank god you weren’t sleeping in your buff.” The laughter from Lando echoed through the small hallway they were standing in. If it’s one thing carlos was good at, it was breaking the ice. The joke had immediately removed any possible awkward atmosphere between them. Carlos spoke softly “this is my room” motioning for Lando to follow him as he stepped back into his room.

If Lando had thought the view from his balcony was incredible. Well, the view from Carlos’ balcony was unbelievable. It was beautiful. He was immediately drawn to it and had walked straight over to the window. At night time it was so pretty, he imagined how pretty it must have been in the day also. Carlos noticed Lando looking at his balcony and smiled. “Here, come look outside.” He opened the door and motioned for him to follow him again. As they both stepped out onto the balcony the stars above them shone so clearly that both of them couldn’t help but look up. It was the clearest night sky that Lando had ever seen, it was filled with stars and a moon that was so clear it looked like it was right by them. The lighting of the town centre could be seen as could the port where Carlos’ boats floated quietly on the sea water. You could pretty much see the entire island, it was so calming to Lando. He had never felt peace quite like it before. The way they both just appreciated the view and enjoyed the silence made it even more peaceful. Lando stood in just his boxers on Carlos’ balcony really should have been awkward. But it wasn’t. Thank god for the view.

“It’s really beautiful isn’t it” Lando couldn’t help but say. “The island?” “Yes the island but the view of the island from this balcony is incredible, especially with it being night time, look at the sky, it’s like a photograph hung up on a wall but your looking right at it in real life.” Carlos couldn’t help but smile at Lando’s words. It had been quite some time since Carlos had seen Lando so happy by something that he had been able to show him, he used to be able to show him new stuff and make happy all of the time, but that was rare these days. So Carlos was thoroughly enjoying this. Lando had noticed Carlos smiling at him and suddenly felt a bit self conscious. Also a bit chilly. After all, it wasn’t sunny anymore and he was literally just in his boxers and nothing else. “Do you wanna maybe finish watching the rest of the film in here” Carlos suddenly asked as he pointed back to inside his bedroom. Lando wasn’t expecting that. Lando hadn’t expected any of this to be honest. Never the less, yes, yes he wanted to spend more time with Carlos. “Yeah sure.”

The two settled on to the bed and Carlos put the film on where they were up to. Lando actually did want to know how the film ended. Not long into the peacefulness of them both being engrossed with the film he realised he hadn’t actually asked Carlos what he’d needed to ask him, he’d gotten so distracted with Carlos scaring him in the hall and then the view from his balcony that setting an alarm for the morning had been completely forgotten about. He chuckled. Carlos heard the chuckle and looked over at him confused once again. It was definitely not a funny part in the film so why was Lando chuckling. “Sorry, I err, wait, pause the film a second so we don’t miss any.” Carlos picked the remote up and paused the film almost immediately. “I just realised I hadn’t actually asked you what I meant to when I came looking for you before when you found me in the hall.” “Ohh yes, did you need something?” “No, I just remembered that you wanted to go for a run in the morning and I needed to set my alarm, because I know you like early morning runs and I will definitely not wake up early. But I didn’t know what time to set it for.” Carlos smiled. It was adorable that Lando had remembered at all that Carlos wanted to go for a run. He had asked him hours ago before they’d drank the amount of wine they did. “Don’t worry, we are on holiday. Let’s not set any alarms. We will go for a run once we are both awake.” A wasted trip Lando had took into the hall then. Maybe not though, because he had got to see the most amazing view ever and now he was in Carlos’ bed enjoying the rest of the film. That made him happy and for just this once he’s ok with admitting that to himself. As if Carlos knew what he was thinking he smiled at him. Lando smiled back. The smile between them was sweet. Too sweet really. But neither man cared at this point. They were both too sleepy and too happy. To hell with a smile being too sweet mattering right now.

Carlos put the film back on and they both became engrossed once more. Lando was getting way too comfy in Carlos’ bed and was starting to drift off. He felt himself get sleepier and sleepier but he was far too tired to move. This resulted in Carlos finding his friend fast asleep next to him at the end of the film. As if he’d missed the end of the film, it was the best part. Carlos made a mental note to make him re watch the end of the film tomorrow. In the mean time, he needed to sleep himself. He turned off the tv and then his bedside light and settled further under the duvet. He looked over to Lando and whispered “good night, sleep tight.” God he hated to admit it but Lando did look cute whilst he slept. Carlos hadn’t ever seen him in such a deep sleep so close to him before. This suddenly made him panic about sharing a bed to sleep in, it was a first for the two of them to actually fall asleep in a bed together. After some thought about whether he should let Lando sleep alone in his bed he decided on did it really matter if the two of them slept next to each other. They were both shattered. So it really did not matter at this point. It didn’t take long before both of them were fast asleep dreaming peacefully. The moon and stars glimmered through the window as the room became silent.

Anon, first of all: thank you so, so much for sharing your writing with me! 🧡 I've already told you how much I enjoyed reading this, but I just want to reiterate that I love how you well captured the dynamic between Carlos and Lando, and that you had me completely hooked! This afternoon, I still keep thinking about the scene where they wrestle on the sofa and THAT LINE (“God I’ve missed this.”) because it's packs such a punch!

I really hope you do feel encouraged to write more Carlando, because you have a real way with these characters. I am smiling so much after reading this, and I'm sure others will enjoy it as much as I did 😍

So, with Anon's blessing, I'm sharing this publicly so you guys can also enjoy this absolute gem of a Carlando fic! 🧡

[slytherinsnekxvii]

hi, remember that murder snily au i'm always talking abt but never have anything to show for? yeah, i've scrapped it like six times now and i finally have a version of it i'm marginally satisfied with. so, here you go, this is the first part of maybe three or four, i think? have fun:

anger

/ˈaŋɡə/

noun

noun: anger; plural noun: angers

1. Normal anger does not split open one's ribcage and wind itself around their heart. Normal anger does not coat itself in venom and sit behind one's teeth and hide under their tongue and lie patiently in wait. Normal anger is not cold and slow and remorseless. Lily thinks that what she calls anger is normal. Lily does not realise that she is extraordinary.

Lily's brand of anger is decidedly... different. What, exactly, makes it so different isn't exactly obvious to her, but she knows that it's not like anyone else's. At least, not as far as she's aware. Hers is a cold sort of anger, an all-encompassing thing that bites and burns and hurts. It's patient, too, winding in and around her ribcage and clawing its way upwards to settle behind her teeth, waiting for a reason to show itself. It's protective, aiming to eliminate a threat before it has a chance to do further damage.

She's... aware of her anger. Not very much so, but it's seen the light of day often enough to be familiar to her. She doesn't know it, though, hasn't made herself properly acquainted with the more... unfortunate spectrum of her emotions, and that is what makes it truly dangerous.

When she feels something scratching at her insides and festering beneath a vindictive sort of justice at seeing Black and Potter and Lupin and Pettigrew suffer the displeasure of the Slytherins, she thinks it's anger. She finds herself in a dusty, unused classroom in the dungeons, helping to refine a brutal spell designed to rend the flesh of anyone unlucky enough to be on the wrong end of it and she thinks it's anger that curls around her and whispers into her ear, "Make sure it hurts."

It isn't. She calls it anger, claims it a necessity, insists that she's protecting her best friend, but she doesn't realise she's mistaken.

The story of the "Prank" gets out—doctored, of course, to keep Black out of Azkaban, and Lupin away from execution—and Lily titters into the back of her hand when she hears it told in bits and pieces throughout the corridors.

"Did you hear?"

"Who would've thought—"

"—bloody idiots went into the Forest! At night! What kind of—"

"—ll five of them, yeah. Can't figure out for the life of me how they managed to get Snape to go—"

"—must've dragged 'im kicking an' screamin', I'm telling y—"

"—Gryffindors, my left tit! Damn cowards just ran off and left Lupin and Snape to deal with—"

"—no clue what happened, but have you seen the scars?"

"—out of the Hospital Wing, already? How—"

"—down fifty points! All because that lot wanted to play jokes aga—"

She smiles, a tiny, smug thing that she doesn't notice, and moves on. The Slytherins are properly riled up now, Rosier and Mulciber and Wilkes and Avery hovering around her and Severus with expressions she can't describe as anything but sadistic. At some point, she realises that their presence makes her feel much less uncomfortable than it did a week ago. She doesn't dwell on it, ignoring the small part of her that worries and shivers in favour of leaning over Severus's shoulder to read about the sort of magic that appears in nightmares.

She grips her wand, idly twirling the twelve-and-a-half inches of willow and dragon heartstring as she skims over detailings of ancient, arcane magic. It's always about blood, she thinks, staring a diagram of a pricked finger dripping red into a cauldron. Potion for Transferring Magic from One Wizard to Another, the heading proclaims. She shakes her head, accidentally knocking into Severus's in the process. "Ow."

He winces a little, and then tells her, "I'm turning the page."

She hums, eyes glued to a book she wouldn't dare look at not even a week ago, and says, "Okay."

It's fascinating, Lily has to admit. Gruesome in some cases and horrific in others, yes, but there's something... mesmerising about it, something hideously captivating in the way that the diagrams seem to eagerly demonstrate their attached spells. On the page, a young wizard is neatly flayed alive, the entire process precise. Her stomach rolls, but Lily can't seem to tear her gaze away for even a second. She doesn't think about it.

She doesn't think about a lot of things, actually, staunchly refusing to acknowledge the way she finds herself drawn away from her Housemates and friends, instead choosing to orbit around her best friend and the seemingly endless rotation of Dark Arts tomes he's somehow gotten his hands on.

Mary's sick of her excuses, she knows, responding to every one with a nod and an, "Oh, alright, then," in that tone that lands somewhere in the middle of disappointment, exasperation and concern.

Marlene has given up entirely, the whole of their interactions reduced to simple greetings in the hall and nods when they pass each other between classes.

Dorcas is nice about it, still catching her arm on the way to breakfast, still offering to study with her when they're all together in the Common and she doesn't want anyone to feel left out. It's undeniable, though, that her smile isn't near as warm as it used to be and it's tinged with worry at the corners.

No one makes it a secret of what they think about her recent activities. And as for the company she's keeping? Well, they'd always been particularly vocal about that.

Things must come to a head eventually, and they do, not even ten minutes after Professor Sprout has dismissed them from the classroom on Wednesday afternoon. She hears the whispers first, half of them from students she doesn't even know, has never said a word to.

"—conspiring with snakes—"

"—think it's the first time I've heard of a Gryff going Dark—"

"—ck was right about her, she's got no—"

Something ugly twists in her chest, and she forces her feet to turn and move, one step after the other. She can make it to the Common Room reasonably quickly, she thinks, and then she catches the self-proclaimed Marauders outside the Great Hall. Or rather, they catch her.

"You can do better than a bunch of slimy snakes, Evans," Potter crows, and she stops dead in her tracks. "Why bother with them when you've got a fine piece of Gryffindor right here?"

"Get lost," she says, the words ground flat between grit teeth.

Potter does not get lost. "Come on, Evans," he continues. "You're not acting like a proper Gryffindor. Where's your House loyalty? I can guarantee that chivalry and bravery are much better than whatever they're offering." It sounds... like a taunt, and this is when Lily realises that what she's been feeling isn't anger.

"Chivalry? Bravery? What would you know about any of that? It's not very chivalrous to corner students four-to-one, now, is it?" She hisses her words, each one more scathing than the last, and as she spits them out, every last one dripping venom, she realises that she wants it to hurt. "And it certainly doesn't seem brave to leave behind someone who needs help because you got cold feet! I'm not a proper Gryffindor? No, I think you've got it wrong, James. If you want to see an improper Gryffindor, the whole lot of you can go right ahead and look in a bloody mirror! I will not be talked down to by the likes of spiteful little cowards like you! I'm more Gryffindor than all four of you put together, but if you're what our House is supposed to look like, then I want nothing to do with it!"

Her ears are ringing when she's done, the whole world narrowed down to one singular focal point, the group of boys headed by the one who'd been desperate to get her attention and regrets it now that he has it. She looks at each of them in turn, summoning a contempt she didn't know she possessed until now. "Save your breath," she snaps, when Black's jaw unlocks, and she turns around and walks away.

Something slots into the place at the back of her mind, and she thinks, oh, her fingers itching to wrap themselves around her wand and whisper the words that will turn them inside out, call the blood from their pores and make it sing. Something clicks, when she thinks about she felt just then, and she can tell the difference quite clearly, very easily, between pure, white-hot, blinding rage and what she's been calling anger. She doesn't know what it really is, and she doesn't want to. She doesn't think about it, either, simply pushes the entire realisation to the back of her head and thinks, oh.

It changes... very little. Something inside of her has changed, and she finds herself growing steadily more unbothered by the voice in her that tells her about old, forbidden magicks of the body and the mind and the blood. It's always about blood.

She doesn't bother reading over Severus's shoulder anymore, the two of them scribbling notes as the pages flip on their own once they've both finished reading.

What does change things is when Rosier corners her after Defence one day, a sealed envelope held in his hand.

"What's this?" Lily asks, eyeing the pristine letter suspiciously. She might get along with the Slytherins much better now—especially after the incident with the Marauders that Rosier had found particularly amusing—but she can't say she truly trusts them.

"An invitation," he says, and before she can speak, he continues. "Every rule has its exceptions. We'd thought there was only room for one Mudblood prodigy, but it looks like there's space for two."

"Don't call me that," she bites, and he waves the envelope at her.

"Think about it. As it stands now, men like Potter and Dumbledore are holding too many of the cards. Men who would let people die and then cover it up to save their own hides. Don't you want to see them get what's coming to them?"

"There's no difference between you and them," she says.

"Isn't there? We've never claimed to be good."

She stares at him, silent.

"It's a new age, Evans. Don't you want to change the world?" he asks.

She takes the envelope.

anyways, i hope you enjoyed that! thanks for reading :)

[mcheang]

Mlb prompt/AU: At the end of Despair Bear, Marinette sees and hears Adrien's "She'll never change" quote when Chloe picks on Mylene and... isn't happy. She might mentally try to justify it, but in the end, she can't help but see this as Adrien giving Chloe's bullying his stamp of approval. The first hint Adrien gets that something's not right is when a cold and calm Marinette gives Adrien back his umbrella.

That’s not right

This is a draft

“She’ll never change,” Adrien said fondly, a smile on his lips.

Marinette froze.

What was happening?

Was Adrien Agreste, boy of her dreams, love of her life, actually smiling at seeing Chloé insult her friends? Granted, she had grown used to Chloé’s behavior, but to see Adrien smiling about it, not caring about their friends’ sadness.

Something in Marinette broke.

When Adrien asked for a macaron, Marinette was distracted. She wasn’t so nervous as she was stunned.

For the rest of the party, Marinette cast curious glances at Adrien, a frown tugging down her lips.

That night, Tikki asked what was wrong.

Marinette: Chloe insulted our friends, made Mylene cry, and Adrien smiled.

Tikki: Maybe he didn’t see?

Marinette: he said she’ll never change after seeing her insult their macarons.

Tikki: he was probably glad he and Chloé have made up again and that’s why he excused her actions this time.

Marinette: This time? What about every other time. Yes, Adrien always scolded Chloé whenever she did something wrong but that was it. She stole my design. She nearly ruined my uncle’s reputation. She even framed me for setting off the fire alarm. No matter what Chloé does, Adrien always forgives her.

Tikki: isn’t that the right thing to do?

Marinette: not if she never really learns from it. Because if Adrien can still be friends with a bully, what does that say about him?

Tikki: that he really values Chloé as his first friend?

Marinette stared at her posters. “Enough that he tolerates her behavior. But I won’t.”

Tikki: what do you mean?

Marinette: Adrien has made up with Chloé for a few hours of fake niceties. Well, until he decides to be a real friend, he’s not my friend!”

Tikki stared at her chosen, torn. Adrien was like an innocent lamb in the world, but he could also be naive in thinking he can balance his social circle.

But just in case, “maybe you should get some more perspective on the matter before you go through with this.”

A chat with the girl squad leads to Alya declaring that her best friend deserves the best. “I’m tired that Chloé gets away with everything for the sake of some high road. Forgiveness is nice and all, but don’t we deserve some justice too?”

Mylene: I want a friend who won’t smile when others make me cry.

Alix: it’s settled then. Either Adrien picks a side, or we choose it for him.

It took some calls to get the boys onboard. Kim and Nino were kind of reluctant for different reasons. Kim still had a lingering crush on Chloé, and Nino argued that his bro valued his first friend. But Ivan and the rest were on board. How dare Chloe make his girlfriend cry?

Nino decides to warn Adrien of what school will be like, telling him that their class is not happy he tolerates Chloé’s bullying and that they are taking a page out of his book. Until he proves that he’s got their back, the class will be giving Adrien the cold shoulder.

Adrien is shocked, asking how could they force him to choose between friends?

Nino sadly responds, “How could you smile as Chloé made Mylene cry?”

Adrien paused, a horrible feeling of guilt settling over him as he realized what he had done.

The next day, nobody but Chloé and Nino greeted Adrien. Even Marinette, while apple-cheeked, stared at the blackboard as if it were a tv screen.

After that, Adrien spent his time only with Chloé or Nino. More with Chloé since Nino does have a girlfriend.

Adrien misses his friends a lot, but doesn’t know what to do. Every time he greets them, they ignore him. Every time he offers an opinion, it’s like they never heard him.

At least he still had Nino and Chloé, though listening to the latter insult his former friends was depressing.

One day, as school ended, it was a rainy day. Before Adrien ran to the car, an umbrella was held over his head.

“Marinette?”

By now, Marinette had adjusted to the new circumstances. She avoided looking at Adrien, “Here.”

Hopeful, Adrien took the umbrella. “Thank you.”

Marinette cut him off. “Don’t thank me. I’m only returning what was due.”

Adrien paused then realized that the umbrella he held was familiar. It was the one he gave Marinette back on his second day of school.

Adrien looked up at Marinette, wanting to protest, but she was already running through the rain back to her bakery.

Adrien stilled. The impact dawning on him. Marinette would rather get soaked than use his umbrella.

He really had lost his friends. Tears welling up, Adrien quickly wiped them away before the Gorilla could see.

At home, Adrien hugged his pillow as Plagg tried to console him.

Adrien: what do I do Plagg? I’ve lost all my friends.

Plagg: Hmm...Adrien, what is a friend?

Adrien: a friend is someone who helps you, who cares for you genuinely. They’ve got your back. A friend is someone you enjoy spending time with, someone you can trust.

Plagg: and would you say you’ve been a friend to your class recently?

Adrien: of course I have been. I say hello, I try to talk to them, but they all ignore me.

Plagg: I meant, do you think you were their friend as Chloé insulted them and bullied them? You scolded her about it. How would you feel if Chloé stole all your Ladybug stuff and your friends just stood there, voicing their displeasure.

Adrien paused. “I would march over to Chloe and demand my stuff back. But I would feel disappointed that my friends wouldn’t do more for me.”

Plagg: then how do you think your class feels when Chloé bullies them and you voice your disapproval, but still remain friends with Chloe? Goth girl was locked in a bathroom and how do you think she felt seeing you remain friends with the girl who locked her in?

Adrien paled.

Plagg: Mylene keeps crying because of Blondie. How do you think she feels about you being blondie’s friend?

Unreliable, Adrien thought. “I get it Plagg. I’m a horrible friend. So how do I make it up to them?”

Plagg: you heard what glasses said, you have to prove you are their friend. You have to use more than words.

Adrien: you mean refuse to be Chloé’s friend until she starts turning nice again?

Plagg: yeah, they saw you try that already. You’re going to have to step up your game.

Adrien: what do you mean?

Plagg: the next time blondie steps over the line, you don’t just sit there and disapprove, you fight back.

But curse his bad luck, it takes until Zombizou before Adrien is given the chance to prove his sincerity. When Marinette accuses Chloé of sabotaging the gift, Adrien insists that Chloé learns to apologize to Marinette. Everyone is stunned.

Chloe relents when she realizes Adrien is willing to lose one of his few friends just to prove his point.

Next we have Frightningale where Adrien again refuses to acknowledge Chloé until she publicly apologizes to Clara.

Then we have Style Queen. This time Adrien makes an exception since Chloé has mother issues but he draws the line at trying to get Marinette exiled.

Adrien wonders if Chloe is a lost cause.

Chloé pleads for Adrien not to renounce their friendship. She doesn’t care about everyone else but she cares about him.

Adrien: you’ve always been nice to me, but if I let you become a horrible person, what does that say about me as a friend? Marinette has helped you reunite with your mother and you just tried to exile her. I told you, I can’t be friends with such a horrible person.

Chloé: but you promised.

Adrien: I made 2 promises and I can only keep one, it seems.

Chloé is speechless.

Marinette then throws the party for Chloe (after her talk with her as Ladybug), and lets Adrien know he really impressed the class. They never thought he would have defended them like that.

Adrien: does this mean we’re friends again?

Marinette nodded, teary eyed. “Of course.” (Think of Perks of being a wallflower)

Meanwhile, Chloé ponders her choices. She does not want to be nice, especially when her mother likes her being mean. But she doesn’t want to lose Adrien either.

Fine. she’ll compromise. She’ll become an ice queen.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Alt Ending, Part 5

Hot take but finals kinda suck

First part

Previous part

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Tag: @solangelo252

You’d think her body would be grateful that she was finally giving it food, but no. She put it in her mouth and instantly felt nauseous. It didn’t even want to go down her throat, and keeping it there felt basically impossible.

But Tim had looked so happy when she had tried, so she forced it down.

(Well, she forced some of it down. If he noticed that a good amount of the food she brought to her mouth actually disappeared into the sleeves and folds of her dress he didn’t say anything.)

Tim started coming by three times a day with food after that. She didn’t complain despite her discomfort, she had really missed him.

Also, he looked stressed out and/or exhausted whenever she saw him. She worried about him. They both had a tendency to overwork themselves when they hit blocks, hell she’d sometimes joined him in his week-long deep dives into cases, but now that she was an outsider looking in… she was kind of shocked she’d ever let it get that far for either of them. When was the last time he’d slept through the night? Taken proper time to clean himself, even? A while, she guessed from the deep bags under his eyes and the way his hair was frayed from running his fingers through it.

“Timmy,” she chirped.

He flashed her a tiny smile. “Hey,” he said, coming over and taking a seat beside her on the bed.

She took the bag from him and set it aside, much to his dismay, but then she reached over and dragged him into some cuddles and he suddenly had new concerns. He groaned into her shoulder.

“Bean, come on, I don’t want to sleep.”

She didn’t let go. “You need to.”

“Don’t have time.”

She rolled her eyes, bringing a hand up to start attempting to smooth out his hair. “You have to sleep eventually.”

“And I do!”

She didn’t answer, which he took to mean she didn’t believe him (a good assumption, she didn’t).

“I do! I get at least a few hours a week.”

“Wow, amazing. I take it back. You totally have a healthy sleep schedule.”

“Worry about yourself, first. You don’t sleep either,” he huffed, but he was starting to relax into her hold nonetheless.

“I’m also literally dead.”

“You used to say you’d sleep when you were dead.”

Marinette scoffed. “Well, to be fair, I thought I’d actually die when I died.”

He gave a short laugh, and she opted not to acknowledge that it was a little forced.

She yawned and laid back with his face in her shoulder. “I’m surprised none of the others have drugged you to get you to sleep yet.”

“They’re too busy drugging B --.” He winced just slightly. “They’ve just got a lot on their plates is all, I’m the least of their worries.”

She didn’t say anything about his tiny slip up, just gave a light hum to say she understood.

She didn’t dare to move until she was completely sure he had nodded off. Even then, she only did so to pick up the food he’d brought for her.

Her nose scrunched a little at the prospect of eating, but when she opened it and saw it was fried rice she perked up a little. She nibbled at her food.

Honestly, she didn’t know if it was working. It seemed to be, but then again most of the things that got better could be attributed to other causes. Her skin was gaining color again, but the bleach may have just started to wear out. She was feeling more energized, but then again she was now getting a total of four cups of coffee a day thanks to Tim and Jason fueling her addiction. Exercise was getting easier and she was packing on muscle again, but she was also working out enough with Dick for it to be explainable that way…

She didn’t know if it was working. She didn’t even know if she WANTED it to work. The plan had been ‘kill Bruce and then quickly off yourself before the others can react’ and not having an instant out was kinda problematic when it came to finishing that plan.

Not that the first part of that plan was working out for her, either. Bruce still hadn’t come to see her. She doubted he ever would at this point.

She didn’t even have a way out, as the door was automated and presumably opened by someone outside.

No. The only way she would ever leave was if she managed to ‘fix’ herself, and that wasn’t happening because there was nothing to fix! She would know. Her entire thing as Ladybug was fixing things.

She looked down at Tim. When he slept all the little wrinkles in his forehead smoothed to make him look much younger. She smiled a little at the sight, pressing a kiss to where she knew the creases usually were.

At least, even if her situation couldn’t be helped, she could still help others.

~

She’d come to expect a routine of sorts, so the moment it was broken even slightly her brain short-circuited.

Duke stood in the doorway as usual, but when she glanced past him…

“Where’s Cass?”

His grin disappeared a little, but he pulled his back to his face with ease. “Wow, I’m really feeling the love here, Mari.”

She rolled her eyes. “Please, we both know Cass is the best person to ever exist.”

Duke nodded his agreement and came over to take a seat next to her. She cozied up to him as usual, curled under his arm as he pulled up their newest show on his laptop…

She had a lot of thoughts about Cass being missing.

On the one hand, she just missed her friend’s too-warm body pressed up against her and quiet complaints about how the actors were doing it all wrong.

On the other hand… Marinette was completely aware that they had Cass stopping by as much as she did to check on Marinette, to see if they were making any real progress with her. Cass was a human lie detector, able to detect when someone was going to be dishonest before they’d even realized it themselves, and they’d be stupid not to take advantage that. So, the fact that they were no longer making Cass drop in as often… either they thought she was doing better, or that she never would do better.

Marinette hoped it was the first. She knew it was the second.

She found it harder than usual to enjoy Duke’s snide comments about how dumb and cliche some of the characters were. She turned and pressed her face into his side. The glasses on the bridge of her nose dug into her skin.

Fuck. She was never getting out of there, was she?

She felt his free hand come up to run through her hair and she sighed.

“Duke…”

He pressed pause on the show.

“Tim told me you’re a meta, that you can control light. Can you do it for me?”

There was a beat.

“Why do you ask?”

She laughed a little. “Does it matter? Can’t I just be curious about why my favorite brother didn’t even bother to tell me that he has powers?”

“I thought you already knew. It’s common knowledge.”

She huffed. “Maybe I just prefer to be told things than meticulously look through every piece of information to figure it out.”

“What kind of bat are you?” He joked.

She winced and the hand in his shirt balled it just a fraction tighter. She didn’t respond.

There was a few seconds before he sighed and moved his hand from his hair to her chin, gently pulling her face out of where it was hidden in his side. She refused to meet his eyes.

It was silent again, neither of them sure what to say.

“Here,” he said after a moment, putting his free hand out and making light dance across his palm.

Her face lit up, literally and figuratively, at the sight of the tiny ball of light. She leaned a little closer.

“Aw, it looks like a tiny sun!”

He laughed a little. “Yeah. I can also…”

There was a moment of silence as he concentrated and the tiny ball of light split into the colors of the rainbow. She giggled, reaching out to cup his hand in hers. It was the first non-artificial light she’d seen in months, the first rainbow she’d seen since… Paris, actually.

Well, even if she wouldn’t ever see the outside world again, at least she could still have this little fake sun. It was basically the same, just as good, she told herself. She ignored the tears rolling down her cheeks that were telling her otherwise.

~

She tossed the plastic spoon she’d stolen from one of her meals in the air idly.

The plan had been to turn it into Baby’s First Shank but that probably wasn’t going to work out. Pen to the throat was at about a .01% chance of working, attacking him with a spoon-knife needed a few more zeroes added to that already insanely small number. She gave it a .000000001% chance at best.

Then again, the other option was trying to strangle someone who had an insane height and weight advantage to death before someone else could interfere...

She sighed to herself and put the spoon in her teeth, starting to pull.

She didn’t get very far before she heard the metallic whoosh of the door opening and she barely glanced up to see Dick.

He stared at her from the doorway, his eyebrows slowly raising as he watched her attempt to bite an edge into a spoon of all things.

She pulled it from her mouth with a ‘pop’.

“I think your eyebrows are trying to escape,” she told him.

He blinked at her before rolling his eyes and walking inside fully. “Thanks for the assist. Would have lost them otherwise,” he said sarcastically.

“I’ve seen you lose your phone three minutes after putting it down, Dickie, I wouldn’t put it past you.”

He gasped and rested a hand over her heart. “You think that low of me?”

“Lower. I was being nice.”

Dick pouted and walked over to the bed. She didn’t think much of it until he was diving onto her stomach. She put her hands out in an attempt to soften the blow, but it wasn’t enough to save her. She groaned in pain as his extremely hard head made contact with her not-so-hard stomach.

“FUCK. This is why your parents called you Dick, y’know!”

He only laughed at her.

Despite herself, she gave him a smile.

She rested her head back in the pillows for a moment (mostly just to catch all the breath she’d lost) before pushing him off. “Ready?”

He groaned into her comforter before rolling onto the floor. “‘Kay.”

Marinette grinned as she took a seat beside him, starting her usual stretches. He pushed himself up to sit with minimal groaning and started working on his shoulders.

It was quiet for a while as they stretched.

Marinette bit the inside of her cheek and kept her eyes on her foot when she spoke next: “Dick?”

She could feel his gaze on her.

“I… can I have some more stuff? Everything here is so boring. I just… I want new things to do. Or, at least, new things to look at.”

There was a long silence between them. Anxiety bubbled under her skin. She switched legs so she could gauge his expression through her bangs. His expression was carefully neutral.

She cringed.

“Obviously I’m not ungrateful! You guys have all been really nice and accommodating! I get food and a phone and, honestly, that’s fine --!”

“Mari!”

Her mouth snapped closed.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to apologize. Anyone would be bored here. I can talk to them. It’ll probably depend on what you want.”

She finally looked at him properly, eyes wide. She really hadn’t been expecting that to work.

He slowly pulled his legs to him to sit criss-cross applesauce, head resting on his hand. “I can probably get some baking things, a sketchbook, just blunt objects in general. Deadly, but not before someone could get there.”

Marinette nodded her understanding, a smile making its way across her face.

“You’re the best.”

“You constantly say Duke and Cass are the best.”

She was torn between agreeing with herself and flattering him. Since she wanted something, she decided on flattery: “That was, like, a few hours ago. I’ve grown since then. You’re my favorite now, Dickie.”

“Can I get that as my ringtone?”

“Only if you only use it to mess with Jay.”

“Deal.”

They shook on it.

~

The door whoosed open and she barely moved her head to look at it.

She froze.

Bruce?

No. No way. There was no way in hell.

But was there? Cass HAD stopped coming. Maybe she had somehow convinced them that everything was working out and everything was fine.

Marinette hadn’t done anything differently, though, so that probably wasn’t it…

Oh. Oh shit.

Maybe she was actually going insane. Because there was no way the bats would have made that kind of mistake by letting Bruce in when she was still intent on murdering him. He had to be a hallucination, because nothing else really made sense. Kwami, Tim was going to be SO smug about this one.

Actually, no, he didn’t have to know.

Her gaze slipped away from Fake Bruce and back to the dots on her ceiling. Because, as everyone knows, that if you don’t acknowledge hallucinations they go away…

“Marinette,” Fake Bruce said, trying to trick her into outing herself as losing it.

“Marinette,” he tried again, starting his way over.

She did her best to ignore the footsteps and the way the bed shifted when he sat down. No wonder schizophrenics fell for this shit, this was all so real…

Except... weren’t schizophrenics not supposed to be able to tell what was real and what wasn’t? Wouldn’t her knowing (thinking?) he was fake be an indication that he was actually real? Or was that just her mind trying to justify believing it?

Marinette bit inside of her cheek and let herself look at Fake Bruce again.

He cracked a smile for her. A hand reached over and pushed some hair away from her face. “Hey,” he said.

She hesitated.

It would suck if this all was fake, the others would get confirmation and she really wouldn’t have a way out. But if it was real then this was her only shot. If it was real Cass would be watching the cameras to see what she was thinking and she would know for sure that Marinette was still intent on killing Bruce…

Fuck.

Marinette pushed herself into a sitting position and looked Maybe-Bruce up and down before grabbing him by the front of his suit and pulling him into a hug. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes when he hugged her back.

“Fake.”

The man tensed underneath her and then sighed as he pulled back.

He gave her an awkward smile. “I’m sorry, Marinette.”

She shook her head slightly and fell back. With a flick of her wrists the knife she’d created out of her plastic spoon was in her hands and she absently tossed it at the hallucination. Either it would make him disappear or it would look like it stabbed him and she could pretend that it actually happened.

But then it didn’t do either of those things.

Her eyebrows knit together when the spife shattered upon impact.

He looked unconcerned as he gently swept all the pieces into his hand and then put them in his pockets.

“The fuck?”

“Language,” he chided lightly.

She grinned. “You really need to work on your ‘Bruce’. Accepting a hug that quickly is one thing but chiding someone for language? In OUR family? I’m pretty sure he gave that up by Jason.”

The man chuckled and shook his head. “I’m Superman.”

“Oh.” She blinked a few times before shrugging to herself. “Okay. You look just like Bruce. It’s kinda creepy.”

“Yeah, trust me, we know. It’s pretty helpful, though. One time a person tried to assassinate Bruce and ended up fighting me. It wasn’t their day.”

She smiled a little, but it didn’t last very long. She fell back in her pillows and glared at the ceiling. “This sucks.”

“I’m sorry this all happened to you. You’re just a kid.”

She rolled her eyes. She’d long-since given up on denying that something had happened to her. Not because she no longer believed it, but because it wasn’t worth the effort. No one ever believed her when she said it.

(Could she blame them? No. She almost believed it herself just a few moments before. Still annoying, though.)

Instead of saying any of that, though, she brought a grin to her face.

“You and B should switch houses for April Fools. See if anyone notices anything.”

~

She really should have noticed something was up when her coffee didn’t energize her at all.

It had all been going fine. She was making Jason dispose of all the pieces of food she’d used sleight of hand to get away with not eating (she was still a little bitter about him stealing her pen and this was the most she could really do to get back at him, compromised as she was). They made idle conversation, mostly just about how Damian had got himself a new pet cat that he had named BatCat (though, apparently, they had heard him slip up and call him Charles a few times). They debated over how good that name was and the merit of Jason’s suggestion -- BatPussy, of course -- as she drank her third cup of coffee of the day.

It was about halfway through her drink that she began to notice that something was off. She squinted at Jason suspiciously.

“Decaf?” She asked, her voice worryingly sweet.

He raised his eyebrows and tried to look unimpressed despite stepping back a good half-step. “Please, if it was decaf classical conditioning still would’ve made it work at least a little.”

She opened her mouth to retort, then realized he was right. Or, at least, she was pretty sure. She couldn't seem to think of anything against it.

She frowned, looking down at her drink again and swirling the contents around. She drank the rest of it, trying to figure out why exactly it wasn’t working.

Was she already at the point where caffeine had little effect on her again? She didn’t think she was that bad yet… hell, she probably couldn’t be because she was depending on others to give her her fix…

She shook her head slightly and then quickly realized that was a bad idea. Pain stabbed through her skull and she stumbled into Jason. The plastic thermos slipped from her fingertips and went rolling across the floor. Her head crashed into his chest and arms were quick to wrap around her.

“You got shitty coffee, try a different place next time,” she murmured, closing her eyes.

He laughed a little. “Yeah, okay, kid. I’ll be sure to do that.”

She nodded as much as her headache would allow and felt the arms around her slip down to pick her up. She blinked her eyes open blearily and regretted it when the light attempted to murder her via knife to the head.

Heh. Little light particles with little knives.

Wait.

Did she get a concussion? Somehow? Without getting hit?

She buried her face in his shoulder and it was then, as he set her in bed and tucked her in, that she realized what had happened.

“Bitch,” she murmured above whatever drug they had put in her drink.

He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head and she could do little more than scrunch up her nose and vaguely wave him off. Her eyes fell closed again.

~

Marinette woke up a while later.

The first thing she noticed was that the lights were dimmer, something she didn’t have to open her eyes to see because her head wasn’t pounding as much.

Then she realized a person was with her. They had entwined themselves around her, tangled their limbs with hers. They needn’t have bothered, everything felt like lead. She wouldn’t be moving for quite some time.

… why was she being held down? Oh no. That was probably bad, huh?

Marinette made a sound in the back of her throat and started trying to shift away from the person pressed against her back. She needed to see who they were. They didn’t bother to tighten their hold on her, she wasn’t really getting anywhere.

In fact, a hand stopped holding her down. Instead, it came up to pet her hair.

Oh? This was nice.

A voice by her head told her it was all okay. After a moment she realized she recognized that voice. She smiled sleepily. Cass. She liked Cass. She pressed closer to her and was rewarded with a hand rubbing up and down one of her arms.

She nearly fell asleep again. Cass was safe, Marinette was safe… the warmth against her and the soothing touch… of course, it certainly helped that the drug was still in her system and she was exhausted...

But then her mind wandered back to her first question. Why WAS Cass holding her down? Why did they drug her in the first place?

She moved so her hair could block some of the light and then cautiously cracked her eyes open.

The batboys were all moving things inside almost silently. Jason was carrying an entire fridge on his own. Dick and Damian were arguing over the positioning of the table they had just brought in through angry hand motions. Tim and Duke were working together on… was that a gaming set?

And she was being held down because the door was wide open.

Marinette looked at the doorway for just a moment longer. She allowed herself to imagine getting out and swinging through the city with her lasso, allowed herself to pretend she could lay in the grass, allowed herself to believe that she could see the sun and the stars and just breathe fresh air again…

And then she closed her eyes and sunk into Cass’s grip.

What was the point in trying? Even if she could somehow beat out all six of the people in the room with her and get past whatever security Bruce had to have outside of the room all while drugged… then what? No money or idea where she was… and she’d be running from the bats of all people…

Yeah. Useless. She curled up and allowed sleep to take her again.

~

Quite a while later she woke up and blinked a few times when she realized she wasn’t the only person in bed. At first she thought it was just Cass or Tim, they were the most likely culprits, but then she realized everyone had managed to cram themselves onto the bed with her. Her and Cass had gotten brushed to the side of the bed to make space for Tim, Dick, and Damian. Jason had collapsed across the end of the bed -- presumably for space, but Duke was laying half on top of him so that obviously hadn’t worked out.

Marinette smiled faintly and buried her face back into the crook of Tim’s neck.

~

When she woke up again, most of the drug flushed from her system (somehow…?), she thought she was alone.

This was fine. She was able to stretch out and sit up.

She blinked when she saw Damian, who was sitting on her floor and playing a video game.

Huh? Video game?

She looked around her room confusedly. The bats had basically made her a one-room apartment, complete with kitchenette and a tiny study area. Of course, it was much higher quality than the apartment she’d had, with a high tech gaming system and a little dining area and holy shit that was a MINI LIBRARY?

Wild.

“You’re finally up.”

She hummed lightly as an agreement. She crawled over to the end of the bed and smiled when he handed her a twizzler. It was objectively one of the worst candies, but she liked having something to do. She twirled it in her hand idly.

“Do you think… do you think it’s working?”

She frowned confusedly and dropped off the bed to sit beside him on the second beanbag chair. She chanced a quick glance in his direction to gauge how he was feeling... his expression didn’t let anything on other than that he was thinking hard, though she was pretty sure that was about the game.

“Gonna elaborate on that?”

He clicked his tongue. “Are you going to join the Undead Robins Club?”

She grinned at him. “I wasn’t a Robin.”

“You know what I mean.”

Her smile disappeared a little and she trained her eyes on the game. “I don’t know.”

“You know we never will know for sure, right?”

She blinked. She hadn’t expected anyone to acknowledge it. They were the bats, they were never going to chance taking off her glasses because if they were wrong and she WASN’T better… well, it wasn’t the kind of mistake they could easily come back from.

“Yeah, I know,” she said after a few moments.

“Do you care?”

“Doesn't really matter if I do. It won’t change anything.”

He frowned. “That’s not answering my question.”

She bit her cheek. “I… yes. I care. It still doesn’t matter.”

He looked like he was going to argue, but instead he just went back to playing the game.

“Damiiiiiiiii…” she whined and, when he gave a vague grunt to show he was paying attention, she continued with “... shouldn’t I get to play first? It’s mine.”

“You slept in too long,” he said without looking up.

She huffed. “Only ‘cause I was drugged!”

“Unfortunate.”

She got off the beanbag chair and whacked him over the head with it. He barely acknowledged it outside of an annoyed click of his tongue.

She huffed and pulled the chair back to herself to sit again. “Is it two player?”

“Nope.”

“You’re a bitch.”

He clicked his tongue again.

She pouted for a little while longer before looking back at the screen with a smile. “... heard you got a cat named Charles. Wanna talk about him?”

Damian’s face lit up. “Can I?”

“Only if you let me play.”

He looked pained. If he gave it to her then he’d be giving her something she’d want, which was a sibling no-no, but if he didn’t then she probably wouldn’t listen to him gush about his cat. A few moments went by before he reluctantly handed over the controller.

She beamed and scooted her chair over to rest her head on his shoulder. She could feel him stiffen underneath her but, when she didn’t move again outside of what was necessary to play the game, he relaxed again.

“I thought you were going to listen,” he chided lightly when she didn’t take a break between levels.

“I can listen and play.”

Damian sighed a little and shook his head.

“You don’t have to talk about him if you don’t want --.”

“I’m getting to it! So, he’s a black cat that apparently hadn’t been adopted because everyone thought he was evil so the pet store was going --.”

~

Marinette noticed something was up the minute the door opened.

First of all, it was Duke and Damian. That’s all that really needs to be said. Those two together… it’s never a good thing.

Secondly, they were there as Signal and Robin. Most of the time the others avoided even talking about their lives as vigilantes for fear of setting her off in one way or another, but here they were showing up in their suits? No, something weird was going on.

“Hey, Mari, can we skip a fight and you just put a bag over your head and let us pick you up?” Tried Duke.

Her eyebrows furrowed. “You want to…? Huh?”

“We don’t really have much time to explain. I’ll tell you on the way.”

Damian held up a potato sack and some twine, which really wasn’t all that encouraging.

She hesitated. “... what’s something only you two would know?”

“Really?” Said Damian with more than a little exasperation.

“Hey, we’re all bats here. I’m not moving until you prove you’re who you say you are.”

(Technically, if they were really Duke and Damian, they could fight her and do it anyways. She probably couldn't beat both of them at once. Still, that kind of fight would hurt all of them and she really didn’t want to have to do it at the moment.)

Duke hesitated before shrugging. “Your favorite ice cream flavor is mint. Which I don’t understand. Just brush your teeth if you like that taste so much.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Alright, you’re who you say you are. Robin?”

“… early on I lied and said that Nightwing’s real hero name was actually BatNightwing to mess with you both.”

She frowned. “I forgot about that. You’re a dick.”

“No, Nightwing’s a Dick. He’s a Damian.”

Marinette was THIS CLOSE to fighting them anyways.

But she didn’t. She was kinda curious about where all this was going. So, she allowed them to bind her hands and slip a bag over her head. Arms wrapped around her -- she didn’t really care who it was -- and she was lifted off the ground. Then, they were walking.

Part of her wondered if this was some kind of test. They were checking to see how compliant she was or how likely she would be to run once outside. Maybe they had Superman on call in case she tried to escape.

She really couldn’t tell.

She didn’t think that they had any reason to take her out of the perfectly safe and well-stocked place they had put her in.

Maybe her location had been compromised and they were moving her to a backup? No, that didn’t make sense. Duke made sense for transport, Damian didn’t. Damian was one of the worst fighters in the family (he was in no way BAD at fighting, of course, it was just a byproduct of being in the game the shortest amount of time and not being a meta) and he was the second most likely person to end up fighting her after Jason. What the fuck?

Wait, Duke said he’d explain on the way.

“What’s going on?”

“New idea on how to bring you back,” said Duke simply.

Well, she guessed that was more information than she’d previously had. She’d take it for now.

She heard a quiet whooshing noise and frowned confusedly, only to feel herself get set down… somewhere. She felt carpeting underneath her, which meant she was in… a house? No. A car, she thought as she noticed the quiet hum of an engine. She’d been put in the fucking trunk. She kicked out as much as she could without knowing exactly where they were and gave a cry of protest, but then the lid was clicked over her head and she was thrown into uncomfortably complete silence.

She scowled to herself. She shouldn’t have thrown her spife at Superman, it would have been really useful right then. She tested the bindings against her hands and winced at how tight they were. Did they really use zip ties? Those were notoriously bad for circulation.

… oh. Yeah. She was dead. That actually wasn’t that bad, then.

Still annoying. Hard to get out of. Assholes. She wondered if it was worth dislocating her arms…

Yeah. Probably. If she could get out then she would be OUT.

She flipped herself onto her stomach. She pulled her feet up to her arms and then started pushing back. Her body strained in protest and she bit down on the front of the bag over her head to stop herself from making any sounds.

And then she felt a pop in her left shoulder and a flare of pain and the makeshift gag wasn’t enough to hold back her sobs. Her arm throbbed and it was only made worse when they reached the city proper and the roads started getting choppy. Every little bump in the road sent a new wave of pain rolling through her and all she could do was ride it out.

They started hitting smoother roads what felt like hours later... it was kind of concerning because she had no clue where they could be, those were uncommon in Gotham, but at least she no longer felt like she was going to die every few seconds.

She took a few seconds to bring her breathing back to normal before she started slowly wiggling her arms out under her butt and legs and then they were in front of her. Great. She picked herself up as much as she could in the tiny space, checked her angle mentally, relaxed her muscles, and then dropped down on her shoulder to get it back in place.

She breathed out a sigh of relief. It felt weird and still kind of hurt but at least it was mostly better.

She pulled the bag off of her head and relished in the slightly fresher air.

She looked down at the zip ties on her wrists and she sighed a little. Time to do that hack that looked stupid but actually worked if the kidnappers were stupid enough to leave you alone.

She brought her feet up, untied the laces of her shoes, and tied them back around the ties. Then she set to work trying to saw at the zip tie.

She paused when she heard the low rumbling of a plane. Were they near an airport? Oh. That was going to be a problem. She went faster.

Unfortunately, Marinette didn’t get very far before there was a click and the trunk opened.

She cried out in pain at the sudden light and squeezed her eyes shut, turning to press her face into the carpeted interior.

Hands grabbed her and pulled her out of the trunk. Before she could do much to look around so she could get her bearings and make herself a portal, the bag was forced over her head again and a strong grip on her arm (the good one, thankfully) kept her from pulling it off again. Then someone knelt in front of her and fixed her shoelaces.

“Really, NightMare?” Duke said, unimpressed.

“In my defense, I was left unsupervised.”

Damian scoffed.

Someone picked her up again and she sighed as they carried her along. They were definitely at an airport. She could hear people milling about. She was sure it was Gotham, too; she could feel a few stares, but most people seemed comfortable with the vigilantes among them.

Then came the normal airport stuff. Walking. Some arguing over whether she counted as luggage or if she could go through the metal detector with them. Sitting. A little chatting with civilians. More walking. More sitting. Very light chatter, just formalities and asking for drinks (Duke, who she figured out was the person carrying her, slipped a box of orange juice up her bag so she could have something). And then they were in the air.

After some time in the air the bag and zip ties were removed. She kept her eyes closed to let them adjust to light naturally and instead focused on rubbing feeling back into her hands.

One English alphabet later, she opened her eyes.

They were in a private plane (or was it a jet?), which explained why it was as quiet as it was. Damian was drinking a glass of water and reading something on his phone. Duke was nibbling at some complimentary pretzels and working a Rubix Cube. They both glanced in her direction from time to time, but they seemed pretty confident that she couldn’t do anything while they were in the air (which was true, but annoying).

She looked around a little more and found that there were no other bats.

“Um… where’re…?” She trailed off, unsure.

They stopped glancing in her direction, ignoring her and her question. The frown that had been on her face since pretty much when they’d first taken her from the room deepened.

“Do they… do they know what’s going on?”

The silence spoke volumes.

She rested her head in her hand. “I’m going to need something stronger than a juice box for this.”

Duke sighed but called a friendly looking woman inside to get her some wine. Marinette and Duke sipped at a glass each (Damian wasn’t allowed any, something Marinette took a little too much joy in). She scrutinized the two over the rim of her glass.

“Are you going to explain or let me guess? Because letting me guess is going to end up with me assuming you’re doing something way worse than you actually are.”

Damian sighed a little. “It’s hard to explain.”

“We’re in a plane. I’m going to guess we have time. Start talking.”

“We drugged them all -- except Orphan, she’s just out doing patrols and won’t know what’s going on for a good few hours -- and grabbed you.”

Duke gave Damian a pleading look to make him continue for them.

Damian, reluctantly, put down his phone to talk. “Signal and I have an idea on how to bring you back from the dead. The others won’t like it, especially not Red Hood, so we’re making the executive decision to not ask.”

Marinette didn’t know a lot about when Jason had been resurrected, it was a sensitive subject so it was avoided pretty much at all costs. All she’d gathered was that it was a rather messy experience for everyone involved.

She rested her head on her hand and then looked back down at her drink. She snatched the bottle from the table and, when Duke protested, set him a glare and started drinking directly from it. They were actually going to bring her back through probably shady means. She was NOT drunk enough for this shit.

~

She got stuffed in a suitcase when they left, which was extremely insulting (and a little embarrassing, if she were honest).

She rested her head against the side of the suitcase and listened to the dull thrum of people talking on the other side. She vaguely recognized the language, both Nino and Damian both spoke it when frustrated, but the words were all Greek to her.

Well, they were all Arabic, but you get the point.

~

She didn’t even realize she had been asleep until she was awoken. Rather abruptly. The zipper for the suitcase was opened and she tumbled out. Marinette cursed in French as she hit the ground and laid there, her entire body aching from not moving for so long. She hadn’t known her face could get pins and needles, she wished she could go back to her blissful ignorance.

“Are you sure about this? You want to save her?” A woman’s voice said above her, sounding a little skeptical.

Marinette forced herself to roll over so she could glare at whoever it was, she knew when she was being insulted, and then she blinked up at the new person.

A tall woman with dark skin and hair and a body to die for stood above her, hands on her hips.

“Holy shit, Dami. You got terrible genes. She’s gorgeous and you’re… you? What?”

Duke hid laughter behind his hand and Damian scoffed.

Amusement flickered behind Talia’s ‘I could kill you before you could even scream’ expression. “I’ve changed my mind. I like her.”

“Cool,” said Marinette as she quickly pushed herself to her feet. Her body wasn’t ready for that, but that was the least of her concerns. The pretty lady was ushering her along and Marinette wasn’t going to hold her up if she could help it.

“How did you die?” Talia said, which was an interesting choice for conversation.

Marinette shrugged, though, unconcerned. “I don’t know, really, there wasn’t this ‘oh, wow, I’m dead’ moment. My guess is I either drowned in acid or died of dehydration at some point. Does it change anything or…?”

“No. Just curious.”

“Oh. Good.”

“... do you not know why you’re here?” Asked Talia carefully after a moment’s contemplation.

Marinette shook her head. “Nah, they’ve been avoiding telling me. I assume it’s painful.”

“... yes. Very.”

The four lapsed into silence after that.

Marinette felt weirdly on edge as they walked through the facility, her hands rubbing the goosebumps that were prickling along her arms. The further they walked, the more on edge she felt. They were approaching something unnatural, something so undeniably WRONG, and she needed to GO.

But Damian and Duke were behind her, probably sensing her unease, and running ahead would only get her there faster… so she walked.

She bit the inside of her cheek in an attempt to ground herself.

But, the moment they stepped into the room, she froze.

Green water. That apparently hurts.

Acid.

“FUCK.”

Duke was ready for her to run, apparently, stood in front of the only exit and ready for a fight before she could even get a full step away from the hell that awaited her.

“No no no no no no wait it’s fine I actually don’t mind being dead it’s fine guys please --.”

Damian grabbed her arms and she choked out a sob,

“Damian god damn it I was kidding about the mom thing you’re perfectly attractive or whatever I promise I really didn’t think it would hurt you that much we don’t need to do this let’s tALK IT OUT --!”

“It’s not about that --!”

Duke managed to get a hold on one of her legs and lifted and all she had to struggle against either of them was a foot and she was SO fucked --.

“PLEASE DUKE PLEASE I DON’T KNOW WHAT I DID BUT I PROMISE I CAN BE BETTER YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO THIS PLEASE PLEASE LET ME GO I’LL BE FINE WE CAN FIGURE SOMETHING OUT PLEASE --.”

Talia grabbed her last leg and she sobbed as she thrashed around uselessly. They started dragging her towards the acid. Nothing to do no way to run no help in sight no --.

“PLEASE! I PROMISE I’LL BE BETTER PLEASE JUST LET ME GO!”

And they did. They let her go and she fell into the acid.

[informationsorter]

How to keep yourself safe from fear mongering and misinformation.

I know there's a lot of fear mongering out there, which feeds on misinformation and the common anxieties of those who have (or suspect they have) a disorder such as DID/OSDD.

The first rule is of course, do not trust anyone on the internet.

This includes me.

Fear mongering is when someone spreads fear and/or terror. Usually with a hidden agenda, but it can also be spread by those who don't know any better and who have been caught up in the fear. If someone is describing a terrifying situation (especially one that starts out seeming fine, but gradually becomes scarier and scarier until it reaches dystopian proportions), it is likely that it is just a fear mongering tactic. An example of fear mongering is "Gay marriage will lead to adults marrying children!". It usually involves multiple steps, which start out with a grain of truth, but twist the facts or use false equivalencies to make it seem as though their worst-case scenario is a real danger. The aim of fear mongering in this example is to convince people to vote against marriage equality. Inspiring fear in a person can also be used to scam that person. How many times have you heard of someone getting an official-sounding phone call which tells them they will be arrested if they don’t send such-and-such amount of money to them, or if they don’t purchase giftcards and give the codes to the scammer on the phone? It is the initial shock and fear which cause a person to fall for these. Fact checking is vital.

Fear mongering.

- Take a moment to overcome your initial emotional response. You need to be able to think clearly and logically when you are confronted with something that shocks and scares you.  - Try to think about their argument/statement rationally and objectively. Is it likely that in this day and age a therapist would illegally force a treatment on you without informing you of all of the facts about that treatment? Would a mental health professional risk a lawsuit and the loss of their licence by refusing to answer your questions about a treatment that they are insisting on? - Check for sources, and it is very important that you not only READ their sources, but also look for other sources by yourself. The source/s supplied by a fear mongerer will often support their statements and seem fairly convincing, but actually contain very little fact. You need to do an independent search for information which supports their claims, and information which contradicts their claims. If there is no truth to their claims, you will struggle to find reputable sources which support it, and are likely to find many that have evidence showing that the claim is false. (There is of course the chance that something is true but does not have sources for it - eg 50 years ago, there may not have been many official sources supporting the idea that being gay is fine, and there would have been many official sources claiming that being gay was a disease.)

Do not take any one person's word as fact.

- Check for reliable sources that back their statements.

- Look for multiple opinions/input, from a variety of sources. It's no good asking 10 people in the same group for their opinions and then taking it as fact if they all agree. If you are searching for information, you need to take everyone's advice/input/opinion with a grain of salt, and seek a wide variety of people to ask.

- If someone claims that such-and-such is the ONLY possible way to experience something, you should look into why they are claiming that, and what reliable sources they have to back it up.

- If something is really a fact, there will be SEVERAL reliable sources discussing it. Not just one source being reblogged or referenced by multiple other sources.

Check sources.

- Look at whether the person is actually linking the direct source of their "facts" or not. If they are simply claiming that such-and-such says this, or vaguely indicating that a certain government or organisation supports their view... That's not good enough. You will have to actually research it yourself and see whether that is the case or not.

- Be cautious if someone has quoted something but does not tell you where the quote comes from.

- Look at the full quote, not just the part that the person has quoted in their post/statement. It can be easy to take things out of context, and make it seem like the source supports a certain view, when in reality it does not.

- Actually open the links if someone is citing them as a source that supports their statement. It's very easy to assume that because someone has cited multiple sources, that those sources are accurate and relevant. But in reality, it would be quite easy to simply link a bunch of random official-sounding URLs, that actually have nothing to do with it.

Check credentials.

- If someone is claiming to be a therapist, scientist, or anyone working in a medical field, you should not believe them unless you are seeing them in a professional capacity IRL.

- You are

ALWAYS

entitled to see the qualifications of someone who is treating you, whether it is your GP or a mental health professional.

- If someone online is claiming to be a trained mental health professional, but is not treating you in an official arrangement, they should not be giving you in-depth advice or diagnosis.

-

A mental health professional should always get to know you and your background before giving you advice. THEY WILL NEVER ATTEMPT TO TREAT YOU OR DIAGNOSE YOU WITHOUT ENTERING INTO A FORMAL PATIENT-THERAPIST ARRANGEMENT.

Seek a trusted person to help you fact check if you are having difficulties.

A lot of sources may contain heavily jargoned text, especially when discussing medical conditions/disorders.

Find someone who you know you can trust, and who is willing to admit when they are mistaken. Ask that person to help you.

DO NOT TRUST ANYONE WHO REFUSES TO ADMIT THEIR MISTAKES.

- Watch out for people using gaslighting tactics, or deleting conflicting opinions from their posts. There are some people out there who insist that they are correct, and will refuse to acknowledge any information which contradicts their statements. These people may use gaslighting techniques to supress anyone who tries to question what they've said.

- Any one who is working from a place of good intent, will be open to looking at reliable sources which contradict their statements.

- Similarly, if anyone tries to convince you that you DON’T need to check their sources, or that you can trust them without them providing sources, THIS IS A RED FLAG.

Is it ok to test someone?

In my opinion, when you are searching for accurate information, it is perfectly acceptable to test someone by asking them something you already know the answer to.

For example, when I went to the endocrinologist to talk about HRT, I asked her my most important question and she responded in a way that didn't match what my doctor had said.

So I tested her by asking a question I KNEW the answer to.

She answered incorrectly, and I knew that I would have to work hard to get accurate information out of her.

Here are some sites to help you fact check.

-

Scholastic.com

has an article aimed at children and teens, which is easy to understand and read. (It was also written by adults trying to use “hip” slang.)

https://choices.scholastic.com/issues/2019-20/120119/howt-to-fact-check-the-internet.html

-

Wikipedia

has a list of fact-checking websites, which may or may not be useful.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_fact-checking_websites

-

Middlebury Libraries

has a short list of non-partisan fact checking sites.

https://middlebury.libguides.com/internet/fact-checking

And finally, I am aware this is a clumsy post, fuelled by an emotional response.

PLEASE reply or reblog with any information, links, tips, guides, etc regarding fact checking or protecting yourself from fear mongering.

**********************************************************************

This post was inspired by

THIS POST,

which builds on a common fear amoung those with DID/OSDD, and drives people away from seeking help, for fear of losing themselves.

**********************************************************************

Here is what you should do

if your therapist is trying to force you into fusion.

If your therapist is trying to trick you into undergoing a treatment without giving you information, or refusing to give you all relevant information - YOU SHOULD LEAVE IMMEDIATELY AND SEEK LEGAL ADVICE.

Here is a bit more information about

possible end goals you may choose

during therapy.

[commentaryvorg]

Digimon Data Squad Dub Comparison Episode 1 - There Are Monsters Among Us!

This is a companion to my commentary on the original Japanese Digimon Savers! Reading my commentary on the original version of this episode (which you can find here) is recommended before reading this dub comparison.

Original name ~ Dubbed name

Masaru Daimon ~ Marcus Damon

Yoshino Fujieda ~ Yoshino “Yoshi” Fujieda

Captain Rentarou Satsuma ~ Commander Richard Sampson

[Since several characters share the same name between the original and the dub, quotes from the dub will always be in italics, while quotes from the original will not, in order to distinguish them.]

First off, can we talk about the characters’ dub names? The dub doesn’t actively draw attention to its setting much (but then again neither does the original, really), but it also does not change the fact that this is taking place in Japan and these characters are actually Japanese, despite that we’re hearing them speak English. Some of them keep their Japanese names, too, even if maybe they have slight shortenings of them to be easier for a Western audience to remember. But then some characters’ names are randomly changed to completely English ones, even though these characters are apparently still meant to be Japanese and living in Japan. It’s just strange – if they’re okay with keeping some of the Japanese names, why not keep all of them?

(Honestly, despite my complaints, I am kind of a little glad that they changed Masaru’s name in the dub, because Marcus comes across somewhat of a different character to Masaru for reasons I will be discussing at length. In that sense, it’s convenient to have different names to differentiate them by.)

Kudamon:  “He’s a renegade to begin with. We have no choice but to dispose of him.”

~~~~~

Kudamon: “The target is a renegade. We must catch him before he gets out.”

This is actually more reasonable than what Kudamon says here in the original.

Satsuma:  “The only ones who can keep Digimon under control… are Digimon!”

~~~~~

Sampson: “Only a high-level DATS agent can capture a Digimon.”

The original version of this line was already awkwardly expositiony, sure, but this one just doesn’t make as much sense. The point is not that Yoshi is a high level DATS agent, but that she has a Digimon partner.

The dub completely replaces the original’s soundtrack. I did a shoutout to the BGM here in the original, and I also want to do a BGM shoutout here in the dub! This piece here is very different sounding from Provocation Infinity but still gives a similar sort of actiony gung-ho feel appropriate for Marcus and Agumon being fighty dorks, and I like it. It’s used often enough in moments like this such that it’s the only dub theme aside from the evolution theme that I’ve become able to pick out and recognise the melody of, even though this is only my second time watching the dub. Though I don’t know what the dub soundtrack’s titles are (actually, after having a look, it seems like the dub OST was never released, so nobody does), I like to think that this one is probably Marcus’s theme based on the moments its used in, so I’m going to be calling it Probably Marcus’s Theme.

Marcus: “This is my training ground!”

This park is apparently specifically his “training ground”, even though it’s just an ordinary park that anyone can visit. Um, okay? (More on this at the end of this episode.)

Masaru:  “I’m the number one street fighter in Japan, Daimon Masaru-sama!”

~~~~~

Marcus: “One day, I’m gonna be a champion ultimate fighter!”

They’ve changed “street fighter” to “ultimate fighter”, which, okay, makes him come across a bit less like a delinquent, fair enough. But a noteworthy difference is that he’s only trying to be the best ultimate fighter. Masaru, on the other hand, feels like he already is Japan’s number one street fighter. This change still sounds fine and in-character enough on the surface, but it’s a meaningful distinction that will become quite relevant further in as we get more into Masaru’s character, so keep this in mind.

Marcus: “Fans all over will chant my name! They’ll say, ‘Marcus Damon is the best!’”

I get that what the dubbers are going for here is something equivalent in spirit to Masaru using -sama on himself. But there’s other, simpler ways to do that – just have him call himself “the great Marcus Damon”, or something like that.

As it is, what they’ve done here is make it seem like, apparently, Marcus has fans, or at least he wants to have fans. Which is not even remotely the point of his fighting thing in the original, nor will it be in the dub, either. He’s not doing this for recognition from others; this is something he’s doing entirely for himself.

Yoshi: “Raptor-1 can talk…?”

This was not a thing implied in the original – that apparently, Yoshi (and presumably therefore everyone else at DATS) hadn’t even heard Agumon talk until now. I guess they’re going for giving more of an explanation as to why DATS treated him like a monster, but I find it difficult to buy that Agumon really wouldn’t have said at least some stuff while trapped at DATS HQ. (“I’m hungry,” if nothing else, right?)

Lalamon: “Yoshi, he’ll destroy the human!”

Oh, boy. This is one of those English dubs that refuses to directly acknowledge the concept of death because apparently the poor kiddies can’t handle that or something. I will attempt to not rag on it every time it does so – only because that’d get really boringly repetitive – but I will be talking about it a lot in future episodes when death becomes quite a story-important thing that is happening.

For now, let’s just point out that it sounds really silly to talk like a human can be “destroyed”. There’s plenty of other ways to get across that Agumon is dangerous without directly referencing death that would sound more natural.

Marcus: “Then I’ll knock you out like I did these guys!”

Masaru did not mention the fact that he was responsible for beating up all the dudes this early on. I guess here in the dub, Yoshi just isn’t paying proper attention, because she’s going to continue to assume it was Agumon who hurt all the students.

Kudamon:  “He’s too dangerous.”

~~~~~

Kudamon:  “We cannot let this escalate.”

I am sad that the dub lost the fun “who’s too dangerous?” double meaning of Kudamon’s original line.

Yoshino:  “Hey, you! Get away from him! You’ll only lose if you fight him!”

Masaru:  “Huh? This isn’t about win or lose! This is about fighting man-to-man!”

~~~~~

Yoshi: “You can’t fight that creature! He’s too dangerous!”

Marcus: “Huh? Look, toots, I’m the dangerous fighter here! And I don’t need any babysitter to hold my hand!”

We really, really did not need Marcus being vaguely misogynistic by calling Yoshi “toots”, or by implying that she’s nothing but a babysitter. We really didn’t.

This also replaces Masaru’s original line that has that fun aspect of him not even caring about winning and just wanting to have a good challenging fight with a worthy opponent, so we lose that, too.

(Though, ignoring the misogyny, I do enjoy Marcus responding to “he’s too dangerous!” with “hey, I’m dangerous”.)

Agumon:  “Yeah! It’s man-to-man!”

~~~~~

Agumon: “That’s right! This is between him and me!”

Agumon then also isn’t able to agree about this being man-to-man, and this just becomes a less interestingly nuanced “stay out of our fight”, rather than really about the kind of fight they want to have.

Masaru:  “Got it? Now stay out of this!”

~~~~~

Marcus: “This is a fight between men, so stay out of it!”

Having removed Masaru’s reference to men a few lines earlier, the dub does something which is going to be extremely rare by its standards and actually adds in a reference to men here. …Unfortunately, because they’d also added in Marcus’s random misogynistic lines earlier, this comes across much more like it’s about gender, and he’s just essentially saying “we don’t want any girls in our fight”. Which, no. Masaru talking about manliness is never actually that much about gender at all, despite the word he uses.

Masaru:  “I see you’re pretty brave.”

~~~~~

Marcus:  “I dunno what you are, but you’re goin’ down!”

We lose the sense of Masaru having respect for Agumon challenging him in place of some basic I’m-better-than-you trash talk. And this also adds in Marcus calling Agumon a what, rather than a who, indicating that apparently Marcus is paying some attention to Agumon’s species and is seeing him, at least a little, as not quite worthy of the same respect as a human.

After their big cross-counter…

Agumon:  “I wasn’t ready. But you won’t get me this time!”

~~~~~

Agumon: “Hey! I wasn’t ready! I was waitin’ for you to say, ‘One, two, three, go!’”

The dubbers completely missed the point of the original, “I wasn’t ready.” Original-Agumon’s line comes across as “I wasn’t expecting you to be that strong, but now I’ve got the measure of you”, like he’s gained more respect for Masaru’s strength. Meanwhile dub-Agumon is just whining and acting like Marcus totally cheated rather than acknowledging his unexpected strength.

Agumon kicking Marcus in the crotch is cut, replaced with a rather cheesy-looking comic book POW sort of effect across the whole screen.

There’s a cute acoustic guitar BGM here for their bonding moment that I like, especially after recognising its melody and realising that this is a variation on Probably Marcus’s Theme! That seems very appropriate.

Agumon: “You’re… pretty good… for a human.”

Geez, what a backhanded compliment. Apparently dub-Agumon still sees Marcus as below him simply because he’s human, rather than fully acknowledging his strength regardless of species.

Agumon: “Let’s call it a draw.”

This line fills a silence, stating something that was already perfectly well implied in the first place by the fact that they’re no longer fighting and yet there’s no clear winner. It shouldn’t need to be said. In fact, it makes it seem a lot more like this fight really was just about winning or losing to both of them, when in the original that was never the point.

Rather than “Aniki”, which, okay, works fine in subs but can’t really be kept in a proper official English dub, Agumon calls Marcus “Boss”. I guess this is acceptable, but I feel like it would have been better for them to lean into the “big brother” meaning of aniki, rather than the “boss” one, for reasons I will be grumbling about a lot.

Masaru:  “Aniki?”

Agumon:  “Yeah. You’re the first person to acknowledge me as a full-fledged individual, Aniki.”

~~~~~

Marcus: “Boss?”

Agumon: “Yeah. Y’see, you’re the only guy who’s ever matched me blow-for-blow in a fight before.”

So, in this version, Agumon gaining respect for Marcus has absolutely nothing to do with Marcus treating him like a person. It’s just because of his strength, nothing else. Way to lose that really fun little bit of nuance and character depth on both sides.

(Also, what does Agumon even mean, “before”? It’s not like he’d have been able to have proper fights that weren’t just defending himself while trying to escape until now.)

Agumon:  “That’s why, from now on, I’ll be your follower!”

~~~~~

Agumon: “That makes you the boss. From now on, you give the orders and I’ll faithfully follow!”

Matching Agumon in a fight shouldn’t really suddenly make Marcus the boss who gets to order him around, should it? Plus, here’s Agumon explicitly saying Marcus can give him orders, which was not at all part of the arrangement originally. This whole thing has such a different tone to “you treated me like a person when nobody else did, so now I look up to you and will be loyal to you.”

Marcus:  “I never thought one day that I’d have an employee that’s as funny-lookin’ as you are.”

Oh, boy. Meanwhile, instead of “follower”, we have… employee. That is even more completely missing the point of the aniki-and-follower relationship of the original. If they didn’t like the gang connotations of “boss”, maybe they should have gone for “big bro” instead, perhaps? But no, they just doubled down on the “boss” in a totally different and inappropriate direction. Marcus has apparently just started up a small business.

The heartwarming BGM gets a record scratch as Yoshi reminds them she’s still there. I admit, it made me chuckle.

Yoshi: “So, are you gonna come quietly, or do I have to use force?”

Marcus: “Who’s she talkin’ to, you or me?”

I do enjoy this – a little implication that Marcus has some experience with being treated in a similar way, perhaps by the regular police.

Masaru:  “It’s the aniki’s job to look after his follower. I’m not handing him over to you!”

~~~~~

Marcus: “I’ve never had an employee before, and I’m not turning my only one over to you!”

Instead of Masaru doing this out of feeling like it’s an aniki’s responsibility, Marcus is making it about himself. He doesn’t want to lose his new and only employee. Like Agumon’s just a possession of his now. Nothing about how this is something that should be expected of him as a boss.

Later, at the tower, as Agumon asks Marcus to help him evade DATS:

Marcus: “What am I getting myself into this time?”

I enjoy this too. More implications that Marcus is used to getting himself into all sorts of Trouble.

Agumon: “I’m starved!”

Marcus: “Well, suck it up and act like a real man!”

Again with the dub adding in references to manliness that weren’t there originally, as if Marcus actually has a concept of manliness that will continue to be a running theme. Haha, I wish. Get ready for me complaining about the exact opposite of this in basically every other dub episode.

Agumon: “I’m a growing boy!”

How does Agumon even know this phrase? This is an entirely human concept. Dub Agumon will be doing a lot of this, awkwardly invoking human ideas that he shouldn’t have any conception of.

Yoshi: “Yum. I love chocolate pudding – it reminds me of being a little kid again!”

Yoshino’s coffee jelly gets localised into chocolate pudding, because I guess coffee jelly is more of a Japanese thing that Westerners might be unfamiliar with? I enjoy the added detail that it reminds her of being a kid and that’s why she likes it.

Masaru:  “I don’t know anyone by that name!”

~~~~~

Marcus:  “I have no idea who this ‘Raptor-1’ is!”

Marcus’s line loses the technically-not-lying and respecting-Agumon’s-identity of the original line. He does know who this “Raptor-1” that Yoshi’s talking about is, even if that isn’t actually his name.

Masaru:  “How’d you know my name?”

Yoshino:  “You yelled it out earlier for everyone to hear.”

~~~~~

Marcus: “How do you know my name, anyway?”

Yoshi:  “I know everything about you.”

No pointing out that he yelled it out earlier like a huge dork. Instead, she just really leans into the DATS-are-creepily-authoritative vibe that she already had a little of in the original.

Yoshi: “Born April 2nd in Tokyo, blood type B, Ootori middle school eighth grade.”

Him being born in Tokyo was not a detail mentioned in the original. And also probably not true in the original, since the series is set in Yokohama and there’s no indication that his family moved here. The dub is presumably still set in Yokohama even though it’s never mentioned, just because the scenery is that of Yokohama, so I guess they’ve just established some dub-only canon that the Damon family moved home at some point. This will actually come up briefly later. I am shocked that I’m saying this.

At least, props to the dub for mentioning Tokyo and making it pretty overt that, yes, this is set in Japan. (You know, with this Japanese guy called Marcus.)

Yoshi also does not explicitly specify Marcus’s age, only that he’s in eighth grade. Which (I’m pretty sure, though I’m unfamiliar with American school grades and may be wrong) would make him fourteen anyway, at least assuming he hasn’t been held back at any point. Keep this in mind, because this will also come up later.

Yoshi: “…and you now live with your mother Sarah and your little sister Kristy, who looks up to you even though you generally act like a jerk.”

First of all, how the hell does DATS have so much information that they even know how his sister feels about him?

Second of all, more importantly, way to just tell us that, hey, did you know, Marcus is A Jerk, hey, guys, you’re supposed to think he’s a jerk, because… he fights things, I guess?

The reality? Masaru is not a jerk. Not even slightly. He’s reckless and hot-headed and will fight anything that poses a challenge, but that is not even remotely the same thing as being a jerk to people.

But apparently the dub doesn’t understand this, and they seem to think that being a jerk is somehow meant to be one of his most noticeable character traits. And I guess they’re trying to present the idea that he’s going to slowly grow into being a nicer person through the power of Digimon and friendship? Which is not at all any kind of arc that Masaru is going to have, because he is not actually a jerk in the first place.

If it was just this one line that seemed to think this, I wouldn’t be that annoyed. But one of the biggest things I’m going to be complaining about with the dub is the fact that they actually do change Marcus’s character significantly to make him noticeably more of a jerk than Masaru ever was. We’ve already seen a little bit of this sort of thing going on so far in this episode, with how they’ve removed focus from the bits with Masaru treating Agumon like a person and instead made it all about fighting, and specifically winning those fights. But, oh boy, there’s going to be a lot more, to an extent that it has to be deliberate.

And aside from me just finding this very frustrating as someone who deeply loves Masaru’s character to see him distorted like this, I also can’t help but boggle at why they would ever want to do this at all. Why would you deliberately adapt a character – the main character – to be less likeable than in the original version of the work? How does it not occur to you that this is only going to make your new audience enjoy the work less? I do not get it.

Lines like this one here are even worse, because they blatantly violate “show don’t tell”. Along with making Marcus act like a jerk and showing us that, the dub’s narrative is also telling us that he’s a jerk and insisting we should think that about him instead of letting us make up our own minds. It’s so lazy and heavy-handed. There will be more like this and I do not like it one bit.

Yoshi: “I’m with the Digimon Data Squad.”

I guess the Data Squad really is its full name in the dub. Even though the acronym is still DATS. Don’t ask me how that’s meant to work.

Marcus: “That’s a great story, dollface, but what’s it gotta do with me?”

Can we not with the Marcus being casually misogynistic? Can we not? (Thankfully, this isn’t going to be a recurring thing. Other ways in which Marcus is being made less likeable will be, but at least not this.)

Marcus does not say anything about assuming Agumon was just a frog. Since Masaru having thought that is going to be relevant again later in the series, this is a loss of not just a moment of amusing dorkiness but something actually meaningful.

(One thing that is very clear about the dub is that, with a few exceptions, they do not appear to have watched ahead to see the whole series first and are just dubbing episode-by-episode. For a series like this with quite a strong overarching plot and lots of little things like this that get callbacks, that means that a lot of this overarching sense of cohesiveness will be lost, simply by accident, because they didn’t realise there was something important there worth keeping around. This is another thing I will be talking about a lot.)

Yoshino:  “As long as you keep running from DATS, Raptor-1 will only starve to death.”

~~~~~

Yoshi:  “If you don’t return Raptor-1 to us, he’ll starve to death!”

This is a little different. Yoshino was only trying to get Masaru to come to DATS, supposedly to pick up some Digimon food. Yoshi, meanwhile, wants Marcus to bring Agumon to DATS. Which on the one hand is a more helpful strategy for what she’s trying to achieve. But on the other hand, he doesn’t bring Agumon, because obviously the dub can’t change the episode that much, so instead we’re just left with that awkwardly not being what happens despite it being brought up.

Yoshino:  “You…”

~~~~~

Yoshi: “Thank you.”

The hint that Yoshino is gaining a new respect for Masaru from his desire to help Agumon gets lost here, in favour of simply a thanks-for-finally-co-operating. Might partly be just lip-flap’s fault – the Japanese “you” is two syllables – but still, Yoshi’s tone of voice could at least have done some of the work to imply the same as the original, and it doesn’t really.

Kudamon:  “This is the boy that put Raptor-1 under control? He doesn’t appear to have any special power, at any rate.”

~~~~~

Kudamon: “Interesting that this is the boy who fought Raptor-1, because nothing about him indicates that he’s able to fight at that level.”

We lose any implication that Satsuma might have been telling Kudamon things about Masaru offscreen, and instead here’s dub-Kudamon simply refusing to believe the evidence of his own eyes. You literally watched him fight Agumon on your screen. He very evidently can fight at that level.

Kamemon: “Enjoy.”

Marcus: “I’m not thirsty.”

Kamemon: “Suit yourself.”

Kamemon actually says words in the dub as he brings Marcus tea! This was very bizarre to me when I’m used to original-Kamemon, who almost never speaks at all.

Masaru:  “Just hand over what I came for.”

~~~~~

Marcus: “Just say what ya have to say and stop wasting my time!”

Apparently the dub has forgotten that Marcus only came here to pick up Digimon food for Agumon, and suddenly he expects to be receiving a speech here when he shouldn’t.

Masaru:  “Renegades?”

Kudamon:  “Yes. Raptor-1 has already entered the human world and injured humans. He cannot be allowed to go free.”

~~~~~

Marcus: “Why are you calling him a renegade?”

Kudamon: “Because Raptor-1 has already entered the human world and made contact with human beings, so he can no longer be allowed to go free.”

I would complain that it’s a bit much that Agumon’s getting in so much trouble simply for meeting humans in the dub, and not specifically injuring them like they were assuming in the original. But, as it turns out, the original is also going to call Digimon simply meeting humans a “crime” in the next episode, possibly as part of its early weirdness. So, eh, this isn’t really the dub being any sillier than the original here.

Satsuma:  “Daimon Masaru, you should work with us to create a bright future for both humans and Digimon!”

~~~~~

Sampson: “Please co-operate. The future relationship between humans and Digimon depends on you returning Raptor-1 to us.”

Also, apparently Sampson isn’t actually trying to recruit Masaru to join DATS with this speech. I can understand the logic behind changing that, since Satsuma was going about that whole thing weirdly vaguely.

That said, saying that the entire relationship between the two species hinges on this one Digimon being returned doesn’t make any sense. So I get the feeling that the implication of what Satsuma really wanted in the original line just went completely over the dubbers’ heads, and they simply thought they were translating his intent directly and made it sound rather silly as a result.

Masaru:  “What the hell is this? Stop pestering without even listening to what I have to say first!”

~~~~~

Marcus:  “Why not? Because I don’t owe you people a single thing!”

We lose the fun subtle Masaru-y nuance of him caring about being given a chance to express how he feels here. Though I suppose it’s also relevant and illustrative that Marcus is implying he would help them if he felt like he owed them, showing a sense of responsibility there.

Masaru:  “…but have you even considered why he suddenly showed up in this world? He admired this place! He admired this wide world, filled with things moving around that he’d never seen before.”

~~~~~

Marcus: “Have you thought about why he came to the human world in the first place? What if he didn’t have a choice? Maybe things were bad for him back in the Digital World!”

This would be Marcus being sweet and thinking about how Agumon feels… if it wasn’t for the fact that Agumon told him he doesn’t know about anything except the institution, and therefore clearly didn’t deliberately try and run away from something bad in the Digital World. Pay attention to your foll – uh, employee, Marcus. Masaru’s line there had somewhat forgotten or misinterpreted what Agumon had told him, but Marcus’s is doing so to a much greater extent.

Masaru:  “But if he starts rampaging, then I’ll be responsible.”

~~~~~

Marcus: “And if he gets into any sort of trouble, I’ll claim full responsibility for his actions.”

This sounds like a perfectly reasonable translation, but the dub version of the sentence does not work nearly as well to foreshadow the thing that the original line is foreshadowing and this makes me sad.

Marcus: “But only if you give me some food for him!”

…This is immediately following the previous line. So I guess, since they never give him any food, Marcus doesn’t end up obligated to take any responsibility for Agumon getting into trouble. (Even though that’s still what he is going to do when they think Agumon’s attacking the hamburger shop. But this makes him come across like someone who’s less willing to do so no matter what and has less of a strong sense of responsibility.)

Kudamon:  “It looks like you’ll have to take responsibility sooner than you thought.”

~~~~~

Kudamon:  “Do you now see how hiding him has created a security breach for all of us?”

This change makes a fair amount of sense, since original-Kudamon was being unreasonable by insisting Masaru should take responsibility for Agumon’s hunger when that was really Yoshino’s fault. And it also fits with the fact that Marcus never actually promised to take responsibility since he wasn’t given any food.

Yoshino:  “So this is where you were hiding him. Since he’s nowhere to be seen, it must be him who attacked the hamburger shop.”

~~~~~

Yoshi:  “So this is where you were hiding Raptor-1. A lot of good it did you, since we confirmed it was definitely him who attacked the hamburger stand.”

No, you didn’t! How did you confirm a thing that isn’t true? If this is Yoshi lying, that’s just a dick move; she doesn’t even have anything to gain from it. It feels more like this was the dubbers not paying attention and missing the original’s meaning, which is very obviously that Yoshino was assuming based simply on the fact that Agumon went missing. But he didn’t actually attack the hamburger stand! Did they not even watch ahead to the rest of this episode to realise that?

Marcus: “Why’d you attack a hamburger stand?”

Marcus asks this of Agumon after finding him with his head dorkily stuck in a trashcan, not really all that close to the explosions and flames. Way to jump to freaking conclusions after basically just finding proof that Agumon isn’t the culprit, geez! …Though I suppose that can be partly blamed on Yoshi inexplicably insisting he definitely was.

Agumon: “Huh? I didn’t attack anything, but a hamburger sure sounds good!”

Agumon should not know what a hamburger is. Again with his dub version knowing more human things than he should.

Kudamon:  “He hasn’t been tamed. I don’t understand why he’s fighting alongside human beings.”

This just makes no sense. What the hell does “tamed” even mean? Doesn’t it just mean “has become willing to work with humans”? Because if so, he evidently has been tamed, actually. Just sounds frustratingly like Kudamon trying to insist he Knows Better than this nobody kid, and I don’t think that’s meant to be his character.

Agumon:  “Aniki! He’s really strong…!”

Masaru:  “Doesn’t that just fire you up!?”

Agumon:  “Y… yeah!”

~~~~~

Marcus: “No! Agumon!”

Agumon: “Boss! I’m fine, but could you lend a hand?”

Marcus: “Ha! How about I lend a couple of fists!?”

The dub’s version of this exchange is kinda still cute, but it loses that fun nuance that Masaru loves how strong their opponent is, and that Agumon is learning to agree with that idea thanks to him.

Yoshi: “That thing will tear you to pieces!”

See, here’s a way to avoid directly using the word “die” or “kill” while still making it clear that’s what she’s referring to, without awkwardly acting like humans can be “destroyed”.

Masaru:  “When you’re in a man’s fight, you’re already risking your life! The moment you get scared of dying is the moment you’ve lost the fight!”

~~~~~

Marcus: “Besides, the ultimate fighter is always willing to make the ultimate sacrifice!”

This significantly changes the meaning here, and instead Marcus is apparently consciously willing to get himself killed if necessary, even though the kinds of fights he’s been in before really aren’t something that’s actually worth dying for at all. Masaru’s philosophy of acknowledging but then choosing to brush aside the potential risk in order to fight better makes more sense, because he’s not actually intending to die for anything.

The dub’s changed version of this line will also not work for the callback that the original line is going to get later in the series. I’d talk a lot more about why not, but, spoilers, so I’ll save that for then.

There’s a brief snippet of music here during the Anime Sads that appears to be a sad piano variation of Probably Marcus’s Theme, which feels appropriate. I don’t remember it from my one previous dub watch-through, but I hope it gets used in some of the future much more substantial moments of Marcus being sad about things.

Masaru:  “You… How dare you hurt my follower!”

~~~~~

Marcus: “It’s… It’s fightin’ time!”

We also lose another future callback here. But on the other hand, “it’s fightin’ time!” is going to become Marcus’s catchphrase that he uses basically every time he fights (a dub-only catchphrase that Masaru has no equivalent of, and that I’m really pretty happy with), and this moment when he’s avenging Agumon getting hurt is definitely an appropriate moment for it to start being a thing.

The dub’s term for Digisoul is, instead, DNA. Luckily for the biologist in me, who would otherwise be tearing my hair out over this, this stands for something entirely different from deoxyribonucleic acid, because boy would it being that kind of DNA make absolutely zero sense. It’s still pretty awkward that it happens to be the same acronym as a commonly-known thing that it could easily be mistaken for, mind you.

I don’t know why they couldn’t just keep the term Digisoul, though. It’s a perfectly good term! It can’t even be that the dubbers have some kind of oh-no-religious-references objection to using the word “soul”, because that word is also in the dub’s opening song that we’ll be hearing every episode.

Old man:  “By mastering this technique, your Digimon can Digivolve.”

Um, sure. The technique of waving your glowing hand over the Digivice is definitely something that needs to be “mastered”.

Marcus also yells “DNA Charge!” out of nowhere for the first time. But in his case, the old man never actually mentioned the word “charge” when telling him what to do here, so it’s even less clear how he knew that was what he was supposed to say.

Alas, the English dub does not dub the original evolution songs in Digimon. The evolution music instead is an instrumental version of the dub’s opening song, which, though I prefer Believer, is an acceptable replacement in terms of creating a similarly triumphant mood.

Marcus: “That’ll teach ya! Don’t mess with my employee!”

Oh my god, wow, way to completely unintentionally mood-whiplash the triumphant moment by reminding us that this huge powerful dinosaur is actually just your subordinate in the new small business you’ve set up here, Marcus. A small business of punching everything.

Agumon:  “Aniki! I’m hungry!”

Masaru:  “What the hell… That’s so anti-climactic…”

~~~~~

Agumon: “Boss! I’m hungry.”

Marcus: “What else is new? I’m just glad you’re safe.”

This addition is cute. Originally Masaru’s just referring to the anticlimax of Agumon devolving so fast.

Masaru:  “How about going for a hamburger?”

Agumon:  “Does that taste good?”

~~~~~

Marcus: “How about a nice hamburger?”

Agumon: “Ooh! With cheese, too?”

On the one hand, at least the dub remembered the fact that this Agumon somehow already knows what a hamburger is. On the other, this raises even more questions in terms of how he also knows that they can come with cheese.

Yoshino:  “But that one’s already injured 13 students!”

~~~~~

Yoshi: “But Agumon still injured fifteen men!”

Remember how the original tried to calculate fifteen minus one and got thirteen? Well, the dub tried it and got fifteen. Somehow each of them managed to get this very simple sum wrong in a different way.

(And yes, the dub did also specifically have Lalamon sense fifteen humans at the park in the beginning. Actually, it flashes back here to a part where Yoshi was then relaying to HQ that there are fifteen victims, but that was before she saw that Marcus was still standing. I guess it’s plausible to assume that Yoshi herself forgot to subtract Marcus after that and this is her mistake rather than the writers. Not convinced that’s the case, though.)

Also, told you the dub would forget about the part in the beginning where Marcus yelled out within Yoshi’s earshot that he beat up the dudes.

Marcus: “Those were some punks claiming to be ultimate fighters who wanted to train in my area, so I fought them for it, and guess what, I won!”

This begs the question: how the hell is that park supposed to be Marcus’s training ground? Surely, it’d make most sense as a training ground if it was where people regularly come to challenge him to fights? Instead, he only fought the dudes there because he wanted to drive them away from his training ground, so that he can continue to train there, alone, in a perfectly ordinary park that isn’t a gym or anything like that. How is he supposed to train there without opponents? Does he just, like… punch the trees?

I understand if the dub wants to make Marcus have slightly less of a teenage delinquent vibe, but the resulting implications they have here instead are just amusingly nonsensical. It does not seem like they actually thought about this very hard at all.

Overall differences

Overall, the dub of this episode shows a pattern of things generally making a bit less sense and having a bit less nuance, and Marcus in particular being just a bit less interesting and distinctive than Masaru. This is going to be such a regular pattern for every single dub episode that I probably won’t even bother to remark on it in most of these summaries going forward.

In terms of more specific effect on how this episode comes across, I think the most noticeable shift is that the sense of Marcus’s empathy towards Agumon despite his species is watered down slightly. Perhaps most notably, Agumon did not become loyal to Marcus because Marcus treated him like a person, but instead just because he matched him in a fight, which is less meaningful.

The terms “boss” and “employee” also give something of a different vibe to their relationship than in the original. Obviously the dub had to localise “aniki” to something, but I don’t think this was the best choice. This’ll be a thing in every episode, of course, but I’m bringing it up here because this is where it starts.

Then there’s the part where one of Yoshi’s lines casually established that Agumon had never spoken before. As much as this doesn’t make any sense to be a thing – why would he not have spoken while being held in DATS? – I guess it makes it slightly more reasonable that DATS then sees him as just a monster? Though they should also be changing their tune quite quickly when they realise he can speak, which of course they don’t. I guess this could have been an attempt to justify the original’s issues with DATS’s attitude towards Agumon… but not a very effective one.

[blu-joons]

Too Little Too Late ~ Min Yoongi

The sound of your voice being uttered from those lips was a sound you never anticipated to hear again. Before you had the chance to walk away, the figure that had sat opposite you so many times before was in front of you again, stripping themselves down of their jacket and bag.

“What,” you spat, staring across as you met Yoongi’s eyes for the first time, “why are you here?”

You never imagined yourself seeing him again, when you walked out the door, you’d hoped that would be it. But seeing carefree he was as he sat in front of you made the situation a whole lot worse, acting as if nothing had ever happened.

“It would have been impolite for me not to come over and at least say hello,” he pointed out to you, “is that so wrong at me?”

“So, you draw the line at not saying hello as being impolite?” You questioned quizzically, shaking your head at his dismissive behaviour. “Do you really want to talk about all the other impolite things you’ve done over the past couple of years?”

He sighed loudly, frustrated by how evidently you still held onto the conclusion of your relationship. “I know that I made plenty of mistakes Y/N, you made sure that I knew that when you walked out of the door all those months ago.”

“Nothing’s changed,” you quickly stated, taking a large sip from your coffee cup, “you’ve said hello Yoongi, so can you just go now please. I’m uncomfortable, and that’s down to you. Just do the right thing, for once.”

“That’s how you want to be,” he muttered under his breath.

“Still not learnt when to keep your mouth shut, I see,” you retaliated, watching his eyes widen as he realised that you’d heard every word. “I don’t know what you want from me Yoongi, but if you don’t start talking, I will make a scene.”

His head continued to shake across at you, he’d hoped the situation would be much tamer than this, but instead you remained the same as you did you walked out the door.

“I wanted to come over and talk to you like adults, I wanted you to know that I’d realised I made some mistakes, and that I was willing to give things another go, if you were too.”

You couldn’t quite believe what you were hearing, having been treated so poorly at the end of your relationship, there was no way you’d ever allow yourself to go back to Yoongi and be torn apart again.

“A leopard doesn’t change its spots,” you smugly responded.

“Perhaps not, but I know what I did was wrong. I got too comfortable and I took that out on you, but that won’t happen this time, if you give me another chance.”

“Why would I ever give you another chance? Yoongi you wore me down until I felt so small, I had no choice but to walk away. I’d be even more stupid to put myself in that situation again. I tried to keep going for months in the hope that something would change, but it never did.”

“But I’ve told you that I’ve realised what I did was wrong.”

“That doesn’t matter Yoongi, you can’t change the fact you hurt me, the fact it took you this long to realise you were wrong says a lot too.”

“It’s because I realised how good of a thing I’d let go.”

You watched on as he began to sniffle, promising yourself not to be pulled into his emotional games. “You’d let me go, you said it yourself, don’t you think it’s time to move on?”

He wanted to move on, but every time he tried, the image of you pulled him back. He’d gotten used to having you around, and only when you were gone, did he realise how unappreciative he was of ever having you there in the first place.

You might not believe him, but you were the love of his life, he’d never felt the way he had about you towards anyone before. He hated himself for neglecting your relationship, all he ever wanted was for that one chance to put things right.

“Just sit and talk to me, please. I’ll make you see how much you mean to me, whatever it takes. You’re the one I want forever Y/N.”

His words flew past you as he fought for another chance, your barriers were up, and refused to let him in. No matter how hard he begged or pleaded, you couldn’t put yourself in that position again and replay all the hurt that had been caused.

“Why can’t we give things another go?” He asked as you took yet another sip of your drink. “You can’t tell me you’ve not still got feelings for me somewhere.”

“I did have feelings,” you corrected, staring across at him with a blank expression. “And you’re the reason they went away when you treated me so badly.”

His head slowly nodded, months later than your breakup had he finally realised he was the one at fault. “Then let me be the one to try and bring them back.”

“You don’t get it Yoongi, you don’t get to come back into my life and try and play with my feelings again. We’re never going to work, because I’m never going to feel like I can be me around you. You became bored of me once before, what’s to say that it’s not going to happen again.”

“Because I’ve changed.”

“I don’t believe you,” you sighed, wrapping your hand around your coffee cup, “that’s what everyone who knows they’ve done wrong says.”

You reached behind your chair to pick up your bag, watching as Yoongi jumped forward, but quickly sat back down when you span around to look at him, placing the strap onto your shoulder.

“I’m not going to sit here and put my heart on the line again Yoongi. I’m sorry if you thought I was the one for you, but now I know that you’re not the one for me.”

“We can try again,” he continued to protest, but still your head shook, refusing to drag yourself back into his life again.

Once you’d picked up all your belongings, you looked back down at him again. “If nothing else I hope that being with me has taught you a few lessons about yourself Yoongi. It’s too little too late for the two of us, and nothing you say is going to change that.”

You let go of an exhausted smile as he watched you spin on your heels and move across to one of the free tables on the other side of the coffee shop. Your smell still lingered as he leant forwards, but that was all he had left of you now.

A small part of him always hoped he’d be given the opportunity to work things out, but maybe you were right. It was all too little too late, he’d blown his chance at happiness with you, no one else was to blame but himself.

His eyes watched your every move as you finally enjoyed your drink in peace, little urges came over to him to head over again, but each time his heart stopped him, convincing him it was time to let you go.

And that’s what he did, as he watched you stand up once again, leaving your coffee cup on the table as you walked out, without even acknowledging Yoongi.

His eyes fell on the cup, the last reminder he’d ever have of you.

---

Masterlist

[muwur]

um!! i want to request a comfort hc/drabble(?) anything !! just 👉👈 can i get hinata n/or tsuki comforting and standing up for their s/o (or friend!) who is non-binary ??

standing up for a non-binary s/o

♡ scenarios ♡ for hinata and tsukishima

gn reader

turned out longer than i intended tHIS IS MY PROBLEM N Y I UPDATE SO SLOW FORGIVE ME FOEFHEFOEFRG but anyway,,,, 2.3k words

a/n: i use primarily they/them as reader’s preferred pronouns in these scenarios, but i wanted to acknowledge that ik some non-binary ppl use other pronouns,  they/he, they/she, or even all pronouns, etc :) reminder to pls be respectful to what people want and use their preferred pronouns!  and pls lmk if i ever offend you bc i don’t want to upset anyone <3

hinata

Just a week ago, you had finally mustered the courage to come out as non-binary to your boyfriend, Hinata. You recalled the rising panic you felt when you were met with silence and the slight widening of his chocolate eyes. However, his initial surprise was quickly replaced with a softness gracing his features. When he gently stroked your cheek and reassured you that nothing would change how he feels about you, you felt your heart melt with relief. You had nothing worry about, after all.

Unfortunately, not everyone could be as accepting as Hinata.

Picking at an array of noodles with a fork, you fixed your sights on the dinner plate before you, trying to ignore a certain gaze threatening to sear your skin. Next to you, Hinata grimaced. Munching on his stir fry and trying to be respectful in front of your family were the only things keeping him from wiping that leer off your aunt’s face. She was blatant in expressing her disapproval, the wrinkles in her face contorting with disgust whenever she so much as looked your way.

After your heart-to-heart with Hinata the other week, you were inspired to come out to your family as well. The news circulated, and though you weren’t expecting everyone to exactly be on board, the reality of disapproval hurt more than you imagined. It was great timing that today happened to be your cousin’s birthday, and you were forced to have dinner with one of your least favorite family members. Luckily, you were allowed to invite Hinata. You couldn’t fathom how your soon-to-be 5-year-old cousin was so kind and polite despite being reared by such a tyrannous mother.  Your earliest memory of your aunt was when she snatched your favorite toy from your toddler hands. You cried as she yelled at both you and your parents for letting you play with such a “gender-inappropriate” toy.

You knew she wouldn’t let you escape tonight without any offhand comments or dirty looks.

A throat cleared. You tensed in your seat. “Y/n? Dear, could you pass me the salt?”

You dared a glance up at the familiar voice. Your eyes locked with your aunt’s menacing ones briefly before you quietly obliged to her request.

“Thank you,” she said dully, taking the shaker. Sprinkling her meal, she continued to speak with nonchalance. “So, I heard you go by ‘they’ now? What’s wrong with he/she, hm? I mean, that is what you are, and that’s the only thing you should go by.”

Silence. Your parents looked at one another in discomfort, unsure how to respond. Your cousin looked back and forth between you and and your aunt curiously, unaware what was happening. A few more seconds passed by. With a shaky breath, you could only stutter out a timid “I-I--” before your mother cautiously piped up. “Aunt *name*, please, it’s your child’s birthday, let’s save this conversation for another ti--”

A scoff interrupted her. “Easy for you to say. You’ve always been so soft on y/n. Neither of you,” she glared accusingly at your parents, “raised her/him right. Now, look what’s happened. She/he’s gone delusional. How could any of you be okay with this and carry on like normal?”

You could feel yourself holding back tears. You wanted to say something against her, to show her you weren’t afraid of her and didn’t care what she thought. To prove that she didn’t know anything about you. That she had no right to be talking to you like this.

Yet you remained frozen in your seat, unable to speak. Inside, your mind went blank, leaving you defenseless against her hateful tirade.

“If she/he were my daughter/son, I’d set things straight immediately. No more outside communication. Who knows what nonsense they’ve been feeding your child? She/he needs to see a specialist to undo whatever brainwashing has occurred and--”

SCREECH.

Hinata stood in front of his seat, which had slid noisily across the floor when he pushed it back. He was silent, his eyes pointed downward and his two palms pressed on the table. All eyes looked at him with shock, if not a tinge of curiosity.

“Stop saying those things as if you knew one thing about y/n and what they’ve had to go through,” he said in a low voice, teeth clenched.

A challenging arch of the brow replaced your aunt’s initial surprise. “Oh, please. What do you know? You’re just a naive kid like y/n. You don’t understand. You know nothing about the real world and you kids go about life as if you can just do anything. You’re selfish.”

“You’re being selfish for refusing to understand a point of view that you’re not used to. How could you live with yourself knowing that you’re making someone you should care about miserable for the rest of their lives? You have no right to speak as though you know y/n. All you care about is your opinion, regardless of whether or not it’s right, and how you look to other people. What’s wrong with letting y/n make their own decisions? Why invalidate them before even giving them the chance to explain and help you understand? You should think about how you’re acting before trying to teach someone else how they should live.”

The air cracked with silent tension. It was too much. Quickly, you got up and dashed to the front door, unlocking it and stepping outside to breathe in the cool evening air. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you stumbled off the front porch, increasing the distance between yourself and that dinner table.

Your body jolted with shock when you heard a familiar voice out and felt a pair of arms wrap from behind your frame. Hinata was breathing heavily, his rushed voice laced with worry. “I’m sorry for making a scene in front of your family, y/n, but I couldn’t just sit around and let her say whatever she wanted. You don’t deserve that treatment. I don’t regret anything I told her. And if she’s still bothering you, or anyone else for that matter, you bet I’m gonna be there to stick up for you, no matter what.”

Despite the tears that pricked at your eyes, a small smile formed on your lips. Ditching your family dinner, you spent the rest of the evening together seated in a booth at a nearby fast food restaurant, munching on goodies and sharing lighthearted jokes. That night, you were reminded that it didn’t matter what someone like your aunt thought. Those who did matter were the ones who accepted and cared for you--the real you. In the midst of darkness, you found yourself a radiant being who never failed to brighten your day. You didn’t know what you did to deserve Hinata, but you knew he would be by your side through it all. For that, you were grateful.

tsukishima

After a rough week of nonstop work, food delivery, and 1AM espressos, you were relieved Saturday had finally come. Tsukishima, who had come by your home a few times that week to check up on you(r sanity) and drop off some surprise dinners, nagged you to take better care of yourself and offered to treat you to lunch that weekend (after you promised to get a lot of rest when you were finished). When you beat your deadlines early Friday evening, you nearly cried tears of joy and immediately passed out on your bed to catch up on lost sleep.

Saturday reminded you of the beauty of the outside world, much needed after your long week of confinement. Both sun and clouds gathered in the pale blue sky overhead. Warm sunshine freckled your skin while a gentle breeze cooled your temple. Hand in hand, you walked down the block with Tsukishima towards the farmer’s market. Already you could hear the nearby murmurs of a crowd and smell the savory aroma of freshly cooked food. Your stomach grumbled with enthusiasm as you thought about all the delicious choices waiting to be ordered.

Numerous vendors lined up down the street. Smoke arose from hot grills, carrying the scent of various spices through the air. Workers called out to passing customers, offering them samples of their homemade nut butters or showing off their natural, handmade soaps. With a fascinated glint in your eye, you observed each stand you passed by. From Hawaiian poke, grilled paninis, and tacos, to Thai stir fry, barbecue, and shawarma, the options seemed endless. As much as you loved the variety, it made making a decision even more difficult.

“Tsukkiiii,” you said pleadingly, “I don’t know what I want.”

He sighed. “Well, what’s your appetite in the mood for?”

“No clue, that’s why I’m asking.”

When he shot you an annoyed look, you held your hands up. “Hey, I’ve been using my brain way too much this week. I’m tired of thinking. I’m pretty down for anything, to be honest.”

With a shrug, he suggested trying the ramen from a stand several feet away from you both. You happily agreed and dragged the both of you to stand in line. Looking down at your shirt, you pulled on it slightly and adjusted the pin attached close to your collar. It depicted a cartoon cat with a text bubble that said “they/them” to indicate your preferred pronouns (though, in the note above, ik you may have a different combination of preferred pronouns. feel free to just sub in whatever those are into the pin ^-^ ). You recalled how you heart rushed with excitement when you found it in your mailbox that morning.

“You know, you didn’t have to get this for me,” you told your blonde companion as you admired your gift. Hands in his pockets, he gave you another shrug. “I just thought it suited you. Plus, strangers won’t misgender you, anymore.”

“That’s really thoughtful of you, Kei... Thank you, again, really.”

His lips formed into a thin line and he looked off to the side. He muttered a low, “Don’t mention it.” before stepping forward to follow the shortening line. A huff of amusement escaped you in response. You were also taking a step forward when you felt a shove on your left side. Tsukishima caught you mid-stumble, helping you regain your balance and stand upright again. Narrowing his eyes, he looked over at the man who bumped into you. The stranger caught himself from stumbling as well, then scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“Ah, I’m sorry about that young man/woman! I wasn’t looking clearly,” he apologized.

You shook your head in response, offering him a smile. “No worries. I’m glad we’re both okay.”

He was about to laugh in agreement when he noticed the pin attached to your top. His smile vanished and he looked at you quizzically. “Say, what’s that pin you got there?”

“Oh,” you pointed at it. “This? These are my gender pronouns. I go by ‘them/them,’” you announced proudly.

Raising an eyebrow, he asked, “What does that even mean? ‘They/them’ is plural, so doesn’t it make more sense to just go by he/she?” He paused for a few seconds of thought. Then, it clicked. “Is this that ‘gender identity’ bullshit I’ve been hearing about lately?”

Your enthusiasm quickly dissipated. ‘Oh gosh, please don’t tell me that this person’s--’

“Now missy/boy, I don’t know what’s gotten into all your heads, thinking you can just pick and choose whatever or whoever you want to be. What you were born with is who you are. Why can’t people accept that and have to complicate things? It’s biology. I swear, people are just doing this for attention or a trend or whatever--”

“Ahem,” Tsukishima cleared his throat, interrupting the man’s rant. He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder and drew you close against himself. “Perhaps the topic is too complex for your tiny mind to comprehend,” he challenged, his voice dripping with collected hostility. “You should stop going on about things you don’t understand; it makes you look even more ignorant. Now, please, stop bothering my partner before you piss me off more.”

The stranger glared up at Tsukishima, then back at you. Deciding it wasn’t worth a fight, the man scoffed and shoved past your boyfriend;s shoulder, then disappeared into the crowd. Behind you, a kid’s wide eyes looked at Tsukishima with awe. “Wow, that was really cool! You really showed him!”

“Tch, it was nothing,” he responded bashfully. “Can’t let assholes get away with whatever they want.”

15 minutes later and you were both settled in a shady area on a grassy field with ramen bowls in your lap. Your eyes were glued to the ground. Tsukishima waved a hand in front of your face with concern.

“Earth to y/n? You good? You’ve been quiet since we encountered that guy earlier.”

You risked looking up into his eyes, unable to control the stream of tears running down your eyes. Surprised, the blonde placed his hands on the sides of your face and started to wipe your tears off with his thumbs. “I-I’m just, r-really grateful that you,” you choked between sobs, “were here with m-me, today. I d-don’t know what I would’ve done if I was alone.”

You let him wrap his arms around you as you buried your face in his shoulder. He nestled his cheek onto the top of your head and ran a gentle hand up and down your spine. “It’s okay,” he murmured softly. “I won’t let anyone hurt you, anymore. I promise.”

Several minutes later, you pulled away, sniffling and rubbing the remaining tears from your eyes with your forearm. He gave your head a small pat.

gRhhrrhGRH.

“Someone sounds hungry.” You rolled your eyes and swatted his hand off your head.

2 minutes into eating, and you asked (suggestively), “Can we eat from the same bowl and see if we end up connecting noodles?”

“N-No, that’s dumb.” 

“Oh, c’monnnnn~ You know you want to, you’re blushing.”

“I’m not!”

a/n: sry about the weird stomach growl effect LMAO

if you coudlnt tell i was hungry writing this n i miss going out to eat foueherhggu

i hope u enjoyed <3 pls lmk if u would like any changes anon or smth different (liks regular hc’s, etc). have a lovely day n i hope you feel better <3 ill fite anyone who makes u feel bad >:(

[actuallybarb]

The Aftermath ~ Part 7

Summary: y/n goes to therapy, is a confirmed hoodie stealer, and gets a pep talk from sam wilson and wanda maximoff

Pairing: peter parker x reader

Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, trauma, me attempting to write a therapy session 

Word Count: 3850

A/N: so many things. 1) i’ve never been to therapy (even tho i desperately need it) so i’m solely basing that off of Freaky Friday with Lindsay Lohan. 2) i live for sleepy tropes and i hella indulged. 3) sorry not sorry

                                                         //////////

“Your projects are due next Monday. Have one partner email me who your group is working with, and no, Mr. Thompson, you can’t work with students from other periods. Class dismissed.”

“Want to work together?”

We had been going to class together for a month now, but it always seemed like Peter was surprised whenever he saw me sitting next to him. Maybe it wasn’t surprise...

“Yeah. When do you want to work on it?” I shoved my notes into my already disorderly backpack and slung it over my shoulders. It was starting to get colder in New York, but I was still wearing t-shirts and shorts (mostly because I could keep myself warm and also because I’m stubborn as hell).

“Thursday? Or do you want to start sooner than that?”

“No, I can do Thursday. Are you going to the compound this weekend?” It wasn’t more than a whisper, but I still checked who was around before asking. You can never be too careful.

“Yeah, May’s driving me up after school on Friday. Want a ride?”

I smiled. “That’d be nice.” People were slowly making their way out of the building to head home for the day, but I was heading to Manhattan.

“You going home?”

“No, I’m seeing my shrink. I’ll see you tomorrow, Peter.”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow, Y/N.” He turned right, I turned left, and I might have turned around and glanced back at him over my shoulder, just for a second.

But so did he.

/////////

Taylor’s office had a billion plants and as many windows in it. She always had a candle burning that smelled like clean laundry, and she liked to talk first whenever we met up. That’s why I liked her so much.

“Remember my crazy neighbor’s dog?” She was watering one of her plants when I walked in. “Guess who I accidentally ran over?”

“You ran over a dog?” I left my backpack by the door and grabbed my own watering can.

“No, not the dog. I ran over my neighbor while he was chasing after the dog.”

I laughed. “Like that’s much better.”

“Running over a dog is unforgivable, Y/N. A person is understandable.” We finished watering the plants then sat down at the huge floor-to-ceiling window that took up her back wall. Another reason I liked Taylor: I actually do stuff while I’m talking with her. It’s not like I’m sitting on a couch staring at her while I talk about my feelings, we’re on equal ground. The last couple visits I’ve worked on painting New York, but I haven’t made much progress because I’m a shit painter. “That’s not the point,” Taylor would say, “it’s all about going with it. Be a shit painter. Own it.” Yeah, we get along great.

“No more panic attacks since the first day.”

“Yeah? That’s great.” Unlike me, Taylor is a phenomenal painter. Her skyline had identifiable buildings. Mine had — I think one looks more like a tree than a building. (That’s one huge tree.) “Any nightmares?”

Oh. We’re going there today. “Just on bad days.”

“How often are the bad days?”

After the Blip and before Europe, my bad days went from every day to maybe once a week. Then Europe fucked me over. Now? I don’t know. “Whenever they feel like it.”

“C’mon, Y/N, you can do better than that.”

I rolled my eyes and groaned. “It’s not like it’s a cycle, like the moon or a period or our meetings. It’s sporadic, Taylor, and fucking exhausting.”

“Why? Why are the bad days so exhausting?”

I may or may not have angrily made a bird smash against a window in my painting. “Because I’m the only one who knows. Mom guesses, most of the time, but it’s like she’s still dancing around me. Dad sees it when he’s home, but he doesn’t know what to do. And—“ I almost said ‘and Peter.’ That would’ve been awkward. “And my friends make it better, but they’ve got their own shit to deal with, and I don’t want to dump any of my problems on them. And I know you’re going to say ‘Internalizing your pain is bad, Y/N,’ but it’s the only solution I can handle right now until I muster up the courage to actually talk to my mom again. I mean, last time I needed Jess by my side, how the hell am I going to handle it without her?”

“For starters, I’m proud of you for acknowledging the way to address the problem. And secondly, you don’t have to do it by yourself. I’ve actually been wanting to have another session with your parents, and now seems like as good of a time as any. Bring them around for your next session, and we’ll talk to them, together, about how you can get through bad days with their help. Okay?”

My lips quirked up, just a smidge. “Okay.”

“Now let’s talk about King T’Challa’s new suit, you can’t pretend you don’t have an opinion on it...”

///////

It was a bad day.

Which sucked, because it was also Thursday, and Peter was supposed to be over in half an hour to work on our project. And I was a mess.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Mom called from the living room. Her elementary school got out twenty minutes before Midtown, so she usually beat me home. “How was school?”

“It’s a bad day,” was all I said before I closed the door to my room. I didn’t slam it (not anymore) but I didn’t know anything else. I couldn’t tell if I wanted a nap, I couldn’t tell if I wanted to curl up in a ball and cry, I couldn’t tell if I wanted to fly from rooftop to rooftop until I was too exhausted to come home; I didn’t know. Which sucked, because I’m the only one who could’ve told me the answer.

The was a light knock on my door. “Can I come in?” I didn’t respond, so Mom walked in. “Mind me asking why today was bad?” I still didn’t say anything, my face buried in my pillow. She sat at the edge of my bed, near my knees. “I can usually tell, you know.” It was a hushed voice that came out of her mouth - nothing like the loud and loving woman I’ve known almost my whole life. “You do a good job of trying to cover it up, but I can tell. Your shoulders are tenser than usual, and your eyebrows are crinkled together the second you step out of your room.” She sighed and put a hand on my back - her hands are always warm and usually smell like hand sanitizer from Bath and Body Works because she refuses to use the government-issued ones at school. “You dad and I have no idea what you went through while we were gone. We have no idea what you went through in Europe. But we’re here for you now, Y/N. You carry this weight around with you, and I just — I want you to know that you have people to share it with. Maybe not the weight itself, but the pain it’s causing you.” She removed her hand and set both of them in her lap. “I don’t know how to make the bad days better, so I need you to tell me when you’re ready. I’m here for you, baby.” She leaned down and kissed my head, then stood up and started walking toward the door.

When her hand was on the knob, I finally spoke up. “Thank you.” It was barely a grumble, but she heard it.

The door closed quietly, and I finally decided what I wanted to do.

Cry. I cried. For at least twenty minutes. I cried because of my abilities, I cried because I lost Jess as a mom, I cried because I went to Europe, I cried because Quentin Beck was an asshole that fucked up my mental state for probably the rest of my life, I cried because I killed a lot of people, I cried because now I was friends with Peter but at what cost?

He showed up, eventually. I heard him knock on the front door as I blew my nose. Mom, bless her soul, kept him distracted until I came out of my room myself. It took me another twenty minutes to finally convince myself to leave my room, and at that point I was too exhausted to keep myself warm anymore, so the cold breeze blowing through New York hit me in full force. I slipped a hoodie on, grabbed my backpack, and took a deep breath before opening the door.

Peter was sitting at the counter while Mom washed the dishes from breakfast this morning. She was back to talking loud, and he was listening with a smile on his face. My door closed and his eyes immediately darted to me. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Hey, Pete. Is it okay if we’re in the living room?”

Mom glanced between the two of us and tried to hide her little smile, but at least one of us caught it. “Yeah, of course. I’ll be in the office if you need anything.”

He must’ve noticed my bloodshot eyes; he couldn’t stop staring. “Is that my hoodie?”

Shit. Is it? I glanced down at the Midtown Tech logo and remembered getting drenched at the compound after the sprinklers unexpectedly came on. Then Peter gave me his hoodie. “Shit, yeah, it is.” I pulled on the sleeves to take it off, but he shook his head.

“Don’t worry about it, I have at least two more at home.” He pulled out his laptop and it was suddenly back to business. “Any ideas how we’re going to do this?”

We bounced ideas off of each other until we came to a rough draft, but it was getting later, and bad days always get worse at night.

“Shit, is it ten already?” Peter started gathering his things and stuffing them in his bag. “I told May I’d be home by ten, I hate being late.”

I pulled out my phone and sent May a quick text; we’ve had each other’s numbers since my first weekend at the compound. We lost track of time, he’s heading home now.

I figured. See you tomorrow :)

Peter stood up and started walking toward the door, and I followed him. I had spoken maybe twenty sentences the whole time (it’s a miracle we got this far in the project) but I couldn’t convince myself to say anything else before he left. And I wanted to. But I also wanted to cave in on myself — and we both know which option was winning that battle.

“Do you need a hug?” He basically had one foot out the door, but he turned around and asked me this.

“What?”

“Your heartbeat — it’s been off all day. And it still is right now, and — Do you need a hug?”

God, he was perfect. And I was so gone.

All I needed all day was a goddamn hug, and now he’s offering one, and tears started brimming in my eyes before I could even nod yes. He was so warm, and his voice flitted around in his chest, and I would’ve felt bad about getting tears on his shirt, except I didn’t care anymore. All I cared about was how the weight on my shoulders lifted when Peter Parker’s arms were wrapped around them.

“Are you going to be okay?” he mumbled in my hair. I only nodded again. “Okay.” He slowly loosened his grip, but not before he left a quick kiss on my head. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Another nod. “See you tomorrow.”

///////

Peter was going crazy. Since we hadn’t found any footage that could clear Spider-Man’s name without incriminating Peter he wasn’t allowed out as his alter-ego. And he was literally climbing the walls of the compound.

I was blowing gusts of air at him, trying to knock him down from the ceiling. We had officially finished our project only twenty minutes before, so I pulled up the EDITH footage from London, trying to think of how to clear Spider-Man’s name.

And then it hit me.

“Oh my god.” I ran to the computer and started typing away furiously. “I think I figured it out.”

He came back to the ground. “Figured what out?”

“We can just use the audio file from the video. Then your face doesn’t have to be in it at all.”

I found the file and played it over the speakers.

“EDITH! Turn off the drones.”

“Should I execute all cancellation protocols?”

“Yes, execute them all.”

It was perfect. Exactly what we needed.

“Peter.” I turned to him with a huge smile on my face. “This can save Spider-Man.”

“This can save Spider-Man,” he repeated. “Shit, Y/N, you just saved Spider-Man.” He wrapped his arms around me tightly and lifted me in the air, his laugh ringing in my ear. “I can still be Spider-Man!”

I laughed along with him. He set me down after a minute, but we were still standing unbelievably close together. One minuscule step forward and my lips would be on his. His heart beat jumped, and so did mine, but he didn’t pull away. Neither of us pulled away.

His tilted his head and kissed my cheek (which I still freaked out over) and then took a step back.

“We have to call Pepper and tell her.”

“Yeah, yeah.” FRIDAY started the call and Pepper was over the moon.

“We’ll get a press conference set up for tomorrow, and I’ll work on a statement. Peter,” this was the sternest I had ever heard her - even more serious than when she was talking to Morgan, “I know this is all good news, but you have to wait to be Spider-Man still. All of this press has to die down first before you can go out in the open again, okay?”

“Yes, Mrs. Potts.”

“Okay. I’ll see you two bright and early tomorrow.”

She hung up and Peter hugged me again. This one was way more subdued than the last one. “Thank you, Y/N,” he mumbled into my neck.

“You’re welcome, Pete.”

//////////

The press conference went well, according to Rhodey. “I think most of them were relieved to know Spider-Man’s not actually a murderer.” Everyone was dying to have Spider-Man come out and answer questions, but Pepper insisted no questions were being taken at that time, or ever.

MJ called Peter after the press conference was released to the public, and they talked for what felt like forever. The second he got the call I went to the training room: to distract myself or actually train, well, it doesn’t matter because both were done.

A simulation droid was about to “kill” me, but red magic tore it apart at the last second.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. Are you okay?”

I shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because Peter’s been talking on the phone for the same time you’ve been in here.” Wanda gave me a knowing look. You forget that she can read minds because she’s not invasive about it, but she’s always there, holding the information to either back you up or tear you down.

I sighed. “He’s talking to MJ. And I know there’s a high possibility that they’ll get back together but a part of me is hoping they won’t.”

“So you can be with him instead.” I gave a small nod. “Don’t give up yet, Y/N. I see the way he looks at you. You might have more of a chance than you think.”

“She’s right, kid.”

I jumped in surprise. “How long have you been listening?”

Sam smiled from the observation deck of the training room. “Long enough. Boys are stupid, they need all the help they can get.”

“I’ve given him plenty of help already. Literally.”

“Haha, very funny.” He rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean. If it doesn’t work out with MJ, shoot your shot. I have a feeling you won’t be disappointed.” He winked before leaving, and Wanda followed suit.

I rolled my eyes before telling FRIDAY to pick another random simulation. “Make it a good one.” And, boy, did she. It was the hardest one yet, and all of my concentration was going into it. I was so focused I didn’t even notice Peter walk in until after I had won.

“Damn.”

I turned quickly to see him standing near the door, his hands in his pockets. “Hey. How’d it go?”

“It was okay. She saw the news.”

“But…”

“But it’s not happening. I-“ he looked down at the ground, “I can’t trust her. Not when she lost trust in me. And I- I think I’m interested in someone else.”

I nodded along. I tried to keep my heart as normal as possible but it was beating too hard from my adrenaline to be controllable; I’m almost positive Peter heard it jump at the news. “That’s understandable. Who’s the, uh, the someone else?” God, please be me.

Peter’s lips twitched up to a small smile. “You’ll find out eventually.” He stepped further into the room and relaxed a bit. “Want to do a round together?”

I wanted to. I really wanted to. But I was exhausted, and I think I pulled a muscle, and I could already feel bruises forming where I ungracefully fell on my side. So I just shook my head. “Some other time.”

My room had a bathroom attached to it, and that’s where I spent the next half hour, standing under the blazing hot water coming from the shower. Once I convinced myself to actually get out and change into pajamas, I grabbed my laptop and climbed into bed. I was going home tomorrow, I deserved a few hours of shuteye.

Then someone knocked on my door and ruined the whole ambiance.

“Oh, you’re - I was just - I’ll just go.”

“No, Peter, what’s up?”

He was standing there, hair damp from the shower, black t-shirt and flannel pajama pants on, looking hot as ever. “I was going to ask if you wanted to watch a movie, but you’re already in bed, so never mind.” He turned to walk away, and I almost let him because I was on-my-ass exhausted, but I didn’t. I couldn’t, not when he looked like that (soft, but also hot as fuck).

“Come on.” He turned, and I opened the door wider. “I was about to watch Gilmore Girls, but we can watch a movie if you want.” I pulled back the covers and left plenty of room for Peter to sit beside me.

“We can watch Gilmore Girls, I don’t mind.”

The second I pressed ‘play’ on the third episode was the second my eyes could barely stay open any longer. I tried so hard to watch Jess win Rory back, but sleep caught up with me and I let it win. I used Peter’s shoulder as a pillow and decided sleep was a battle I didn’t mind losing.

////////

I woke up to my alarm, but as quickly as my eyes opened, Peter’s arm pulled me closer to him. I was too tired to feel embarrassed or excited about the fact that Peter Parker was in my bed with an arm wrapped around me. All I wanted to was to turn off my alarm and go back to bed, but my dad was picking me and Peter up in two hours and I wanted to bully Sam into making me pancakes again.

“Let go, Peter,” I ended up mumbling, “I have to turn the alarm off.” He moved his arm off and I sat up and grabbed my phone. “I’m getting breakfast.”

It must’ve been my lucky day, because Sam and Bucky were in the kitchen. “‘Morning, sunshine. Sleep okay?” I looked at Sam with a hard glare, and he laughed. Of course he knew Peter was with me, FRIDAY knows everything.

I sat next to Bucky and thought of fluffy pancakes to ward off my burning hatred for Captain America. “Sam, how much do you love me?”

“Depends on what you’re willing to give me in exchange for the pancakes.”

Of course he already knew my move. Typical.

“I’ll delete half of the embarrassing footage of you saved in FRIDAY’s hard-drive.”

Sam looked at Bucky suddenly, extremely confused. “I thought that was done months ago.”

He just shrugged and drank his coffee. “Must not’ve gone deep enough. Good thing Y/N is here to catch it.”

Sam glanced between the two of us and sighed. “Okay, fine, I’ll make you some stupid pancakes.”

I smiled, then Bucky slipped me ten dollars under the counter and whispered, “Save me the footage.” I winked back.

“Can I have some too?” Peter, soft as hell, came into the kitchen and sat beside me. (His knee was brushing up against mine.)

“Only if you have something to offer.” Sam liked us, I know he did (that’s part of the embarrassing footage FRIDAY has saved) but he was usually a dick to us - anyone who wasn’t Bucky (and even then) - in the morning. It was always playful banter, but we knew not to step too far before eleven o’clock.

“I promise not to test out my new long-lasting webs on anything you own.”

“Deal.”

The pancakes were delicious (“hell yeah they were, I don’t mess around with pancakes”) but my dad was at the compound before we knew it, and it was time to face reality again.

“I saw the press conference,” Dad said when we sat down in the back, “and everything was very convincing. Congrats on getting to be Spider-Man again, Peter.”

He beamed. “Thanks, Mr. Y/L/N. Anything exciting happen at the hospital recently?”

They talked medical, while I sat back and listened to the engine. It covered up their hearts, but that didn’t matter, because both would’ve sent me right back to sleep. And it did.

We pulled up to Peter’s complex an hour and a half later. There were still plenty of daylight hours left, but we both left more homework to today than we would like to admit and neither of our parental figures would be pleased with that.

“See you tomorrow,” he said with a smile.

I smiled back, genuinely, (I was giving those out way more often now) and waved. “Bye.” Dad and I drove back and walked up to the apartment bumping shoulders. Our schedules didn’t line up very often because he was needed in the ER a lot of the time, but we always had a sort of silent understanding. He unlocked the door and let me in first, but when my eyes landed on the kitchen table, I stopped mid-step.

Blood. Everywhere. On the walls, on the floor, on Mom’s floral couch she claimed “added personality” to the living room. No one else was in the apartment, I could tell, but then it just raised more questions:

Who’s blood is everywhere?

Where the hell is Mom?

tags: @eridanuswave​ @vampirestrawberries​ 

[bitch-in-a-bag]

can we talk about how the LGBT movement has changed in the past 15 years?

in the light of the events surrounding Chris chan, and people prioritizing pronouns over the rape of a woman with dementia, I think it displays just how... different things are.

i personally feel like it's been co-opted by the more loud and entitled mtfs/ males/penis-havers/whatever pc term exists for the XY chromosome'd, who go too far and aren't reasonably kept in check. I think terf no longer has meaning anymore because it's just become a word we use to silence anyone that disagrees with a trans woman. immediately you're going to call me a terf, I accept that, but please continue reading. I may suprise you. calling someone who's transgender a terf is kinda messed up anyway, and that's exactly why im writing this.

I also think that everyone else (allies, ftms, etc) have followed suit because they've written this messed up narrative that EvErYoNe iS VaLiD. except for trans penis-havers, bc they're the most oppressed and the most valid, actually, regardless of their experiences.

I never used to believe the above because it was always written off as terf shit, and ignoring it kinda benefitted me, but between seeing ftms getting bashed for refusing to follow new "TME" rules as if they aren't trans too, and seeing outrage around Chris chans pronouns, I think it's time to start saying things that may make people uncomfortable. innocent people are already getting hurt by this, and we need to do better. it's time to get uncomfortable.

I want to remind you that perception is both the relying factor, and also the downfall of newer lgbt theory. if my profile were mtf coded, maybe it currently is, you'd call me a self hating trans and I wouldn't be that big of a deal. terfs would probably target me.

if my profile was ftm coded, I would be absolutely skewered for daring to speak out about these issues, even though they do actually affect ftms disproportionately. terfs would try to convince me that being trans is a plague and a mental illness, and to just ~be a cis woman~!

and if assumed cis, I would 100% be assumed radfem terf, and everything I say would immediately be dismissed because of the genuine damage terfs have done. but terfs would still probably flock to this post and berate me for daring to validate trans people At All, because to them, being transgender is a mental illness akin to an eating disorder, and "giving in" to it is "self harm". clearly I don't believe that, so hopefully you'll give me at least some benefit of the doubt.

so, does my identity matter? i have a feeling you'll say yes, because it gives us a good idea of experiences I do and don't have expertise in, and thus room to talk about. but I refuse to directly identify what I actually am because I want the focus of any resulting conversation to be my message and not my self identification. if you read between the lines and figure it out that's just fine, but I would like to be heard first and foremost.

my profile is thus an attempt at being cis female coded, somewhat out of comfort, and that is likely what I'll be assumed to be due to the beliefs I am expressing, even though there is a substantial risk of getting misgendered and dismissed, no matter what my birth sex may actually be. i will give you a hint about my identity: I am transgender, on HRT and everything, and I have been personally affected by all of this. rest assured, this is well within my lane to speak about, and it does matter if you misgender me.

I want you to really think about that. before you respond, really think about if someone saying words on tumblr, talking about their OWN experiences and their take on recent history that applies to themself, really more worthy of being misgendered and harassed than... someone who said they transitioned so they could date lesbians, and then raped their own mother with dementia.

is that fair or just? or is this just a new way of letting people with penises do whatever they want? I personally think it's the latter. we need to hold people like Chris chan accountable without getting caught up on something as minor **in comparison** as misgendering and self identification. Is it sad and confusing that someone who self IDs as transgender became 1:1 with the most dangerous stereotypes that exist for trans women? Of course it is. But it doesn't mean that self identification is suddenly more important than a literal crime being committed.

I would normally dismiss it as a fluke or outright trolling if the evidence weren't so damning that this is in fact a real event that happened. If I hadn't seen this happen to other people, and if I didn't literally know another mtf person who used their dysphoria as an excuse for date rape on multiple occasions and never got any consequences for it.

It's not a one time thing, it's a developing problem that we need to stop before more people have their lives ruined. I can't even imagine how traumatizing and messed up it is for an FTM person to be date raped, by another transgender person no less. When I, an abuse survivor, told people of this MTFs red flags, people violently silenced me. People who didn't know I was trans called me a terf and transphobic. We, as a community, could've protected someone from getting date raped, and we didn't. Trans women can be awful, horrible fucking people, because they are people. Protecting them at all costs is wrong. Protecting them from transphobia is what we should be doing.

That being said, misgendering is still skeevy, and I haven't done anything like raped a disabled woman who is no longer able to consent, or date raped my own partner. if you give a shit about respecting my identity, please use they/them for me. if not, use visual perception and make assumptions that will most likely be incorrect, skew your own argument, and put me on the same level as a rapist, and arguably a fetishist. And I do need to remind you that calling someone transgender a rapist and a fetishist without evidence is still definitely classic transphobia, to the letter, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't do that.

as someone who is same sex attracted, I also want to bring this up as well.

in the US in the past 15 years, the movement as a whole pretty much went "YEAH BORN THIS WAY" with Lady Gaga, and then jumped ship to prioritize mostly mtfs at every angle. do mtfs need support? absolutely. but they don't need misguided toxic positivity, and that's what it's turned into.

it's gotten genuinely homophobic to the point where actually homosexual people are constantly being erased and demonized via "genital preferences are a fetish uwu", and vulva havers, especially the trans ones, are constantly being told to shut up about their experiences.

as much as you want to deny bioessentialism, its still very much well and alive with newer trans movement sentiments when we classify ftms as not worthy of speaking about their own issues with terms like "TME". it's also incredibly ignorant towards FTMs who pass, but dress feminine for comfort, and get mistaken for MTF, and treated like garbage because of it. They are not remotely exempt from misogyny, transphobia, or the intersection of the two, and it is not anyone's job to tell them they don't ever experience that when they do. Turning ftms and biological homosexuals into our enemies-- especially when the actual cause is transphobia and harmful gender stereotypes-- does nothing good or healthy for our movement.

Dont be mistaken, though, passing isn't the focus or end all be all here, it's the perception of others that ends up drastically effecting your experiences. There are words like misogyny that imply treatment via birth sex, however this too can be reliant on external perception. If an MTF individual either transitions very young, has an abundance of resources to transition, or just gets lucky and passes well, chances are she will experience a lot more misogyny than people may give credit to. inversely, someone who just started questioning yesterday, but lived as a male their whole life up until then, they genuinely cannot speak about misogyny with that much room because they simply haven't experienced it at an accurate enough angle or for enough time to understand it as a repeated and sociological force.

It works the other way as well, though; someone who's known that they're trans for a long time and haven't had the resources to transition, or do not or cannot pass in the eyes of society; these people suffer pain that we don't neccesarily have a word for yet, imo. It makes dysphoria worse and it makes living seem hopeless. And as a community, we deal with this is in a really messed up way by over-validating them instead of solving the core issue at hand. and people who suffer from this, but also acknowledge they can't claim what they haven't experienced, are left with nowhere to go.

And its important to acknowledge these things because they're integral to the over-encompassing trans experience. Instead of lying to everyone and telling everyone they pass/giving out unconditional positive regard, our focus should be making it so that it **doesn't matter if you pass**. that you're still worth respect and dignity if you're transgender, no matter what passing is or what it means to you, and no matter how you present. But also, if you do something awful, you still need to be held accountable, especially if you use yourself, your body, or your trans status to contribute to other axi of oppression.

Transphobia is a word that encompasses and addresses all of that, regardless of birth sex. "TME" shuts that down in favor of only letting MTF's speak. Which is still very bio-essentialist, and I can't help but feel like we've gone full circle.

Once upon a time you couldn't even get married if your partner had the same genitals as you. in the US, this was less than 7 years ago. and if you care about human rights activism, you know damn well that legal modification is not the end all be all. people who are genuinely homosexual are still oppressed, but the trans movement has started stepping on them to make ground we don't deserve. homosexuals are ok and valid. it's not a genital preference, and the prescence of trans people doesn't make conversion therapy sentiments ok, ever.

we've gone full circle, and it's not right.

[sanjisock]

keep playing that song (hey mister dj)

ao3

Usopp isn’t scared.

The stranger might be a tall, burly dude with one eye, two large scars, and muscles that could rival a god’s, but Usopp is not scared. Nope. Sure, the guy could probably crush Usopp’s head if he does so much as flex , and the scars seem to indicate that he’s trained in some kind of deadly martial arts, and even without all those things he’s still big enough to be able to beat Usopp up into a pulp through sheer strength, and —

Okay, so Usopp might be a little scared.

But it’s not his fault, okay! Who can blame him for being scared when their usual hangout place-slash-music studio is suddenly occupied by such a scary-looking man! Scars, green hair (is that natural color ?), earrings…all signs seem to point to him being a delinquent, if not a yakuza . And on top of that — are those swords lying on top of him? Real swords? Three of them?

The only saving grace of it all is the fact that the man is sleeping soundly, so it’s unlikely that he could kill Usopp right now. Maybe. Usopp isn’t ruling out the possibility that the man could identify weaker life forces in his sleep and eliminate them accordingly, Drunken Master-style.

Usopp yelps when the door to the studio swings open.

“Yohoho, you’re here early, Usopp!” Brook greets with a wave and, completely unperturbed by the existence of the Scary Green Man, makes his way to his guitar. The others start filing in behind Brook one by one, chatting among themselves.

“All right, I’m going to get started over here,” Sanji announces to the group as he starts plugging things up onto his booth, before pointing at the keyboard. “Oi, Usopp, those keys aren’t going to play themselves.”

Okay, so they are not acknowledging this.

Okay. Usopp’s fine with that. Usopp’s good with that. He knows all the wise words like let sleeping dogs lie — or, in this case, let green-haired men with visible battle scars and three swords lie so nobody (read: Usopp) gets maimed and/or fatally injured. He can work with that, sure.

The session starts, and it does get easier to ignore the man when you’re enjoying the music. Before Usopp realizes, they’ve been playing for a couple of hours, made plans for the next jam sessions, and bid their goodbyes. He’s three blocks away on his bicycle before the whole thing dawns on him.

Who the hell was that man?

 -

 When Usopp opens the door to the studio, the green-haired man is still sleeping on the couch.

Usopp closes the door again.

All right. Back up. It’s been a week since their last jam session, but somehow the man is still there. Usopp is a smart, rational man — he can work this out.

Option one: the man is a homeless man who somehow has found his way to the studio and started living there. Possibly dangerous, but enough grounds to call the cops. This, however, doesn’t explain why no one seems to be aware of the man’s existence, which leads to the other possibility —

Option two: the man is actually a ghost haunting the studio and Usopp, being the amazing and attentive man that he is, is the only person who could see him, and now he has to find a way for the ghost to move on or he will drag Usopp down to hell with him.

Usopp laughs at his own idea, opens the door again, just as Sanji drops onto the sofa, right beside the man’s head, all-too-close and completely oblivious to the proximity.

Option two, it is.

Usopp is mentally chanting some exorcism spells in his head when Sanji suddenly calls out, “you’re just going to stand around there or what?”

“Ah, right, was just, checking some texts on my phone,” he replies, half-rambling, hoping Sanji would buy some of the lies he’s selling. He quickly scrambles towards the keyboard. “Just gonna practice some variations first before we start.”

“Okay, I’ll wait for the others to come in before setting up,” Sanji says, half-distracted by the book he’s currently reading. If he notices that Usopp is more on edge than usual, he doesn’t point it out, and simply returns to his book.

Usopp takes the opportunity to make some observations.

The situation is downright baffling , because Sanji, generally, is not a tactile person. That’s more of Luffy’s thing — throwing his limbs all over his friends and wrapping them in hugs like a monkey would to a tree. Sanji generally keeps his distance, even with friends, and especially male ones.

But right now, Sanji somehow looks completely comfortable beside the green-haired man, despite the closeness. His shoulders are slumped comfortably against the backrest, with only one hand holding the book — his other hand rests on the empty spot near the man’s head, and Usopp thinks he’s started hallucinating, because — are those fingers absentmindedly playing with the man’s hair?

Men-are-lowly-creatures Sanji? Playing with another man’s hair?

Usopp is beginning to question his own sanity.

 -

 Usopp swears he is cursed, because how else could he find himself in a room with the man. Again. With no one else around.

And because the universe hates him, the man suddenly snorts, yawns, and blinks awake.

Usopp has half the mind to run out of the room, and doesn’t do it only because he’s pretty sure the man is like a wild beast that can sense fear. Instead he stays rooted to his spot as the man blearily looks around before finally noticing Usopp’s presence.

Their eyes meet. The man blinks again, before frowning. “Who are you?”  

“That’s my question,” Usopp wants to yell at the top of his lungs, which he does, except it’s more of a whisper, and he’s also jumping behind the DJ table. Just in case. “Wait, you can see me?”

The man continues to frown at him. “Why can’t I?”

“You’re alive,” Usopp can’t help pointing out instead.

“...Yeah?” The man looks like he’s questioning Usopp’s mental health, but he also doesn’t look like he’s going to stab anyone anytime soon, so Usopp considers this a win. The man runs his hand through his hair. “Look, I assume you know the Cook.”

The Cook. There can only be one person in their group that fits the nickname. “Sanji. Yeah,” Usopp quickly says, “I’m Sanji’s friend. Also in the band. The name’s Usopp, by the way.”

“Heard ‘bout you. I’m Zoro,” the man — Zoro — introduces himself. And — doesn’t elaborate.

“Right,” Usopp responds, mostly to fill in the silence, “you, uh, you know Sanji?”

It seems like the natural direction for the conversation to take, but it earns him another look from Zoro. “Seriously? The Cook never…” he pauses, before groaning. “Of course he hasn’t. Bet he’s told you more about Nami than he does about me, huh.”

Usopp knows Nami — she’s a friend from Sanji’s university, and sometimes she’d drop by and help with the band’s finances. Zoro, on the other hand... “Look, I’m sorry, man, but all I know is that you’re this guy who started coming into our practice sessions and slept throughout the whole thing.”

“Because it’s boring as hell, that’s why,” Zoro says, before quickly adding, “no offense.”

“None taken, I know it’s not everyone’s thing. Although —” Usopp gulps, wonders if the question is appropriate, but curiosity got the best of him. “If it’s boring to you, why are you here?”

Zoro surprisingly blushes at that. He rubs the back of his neck in a shocking display of embarrassment. “Well, don’t tell him this, but —” he clears his throat, clearly flustered, before mumbling, “the Shit Cook said he’d be happy if I come and support and shit like that.”

“Come and support,” Usopp echoes, brain refusing to work. “Sanji wants you to... come and support him.”

“Yeah, you know,” Zoro says. “As his boyfriend.”

Usopp chokes on air at that. The ghost theory would’ve made so much more sense. Really .

 -

 “I wish I could’ve seen your face,” Sanji says in between peals of laughter, “you really thought this Mosshead was a ghost ?”

“It seems to be the most plausible explanation at the time, okay,” Usopp retorts, indignant. In his defense, it would be less surprising than this whole... boyfriend thing.

It’s not like Usopp has a problem with his male friend getting a boyfriend — god, no, not that. But this is Sanji . Woman-loving, romance-obsessed Sanji, who wouldn’t shut up about how it is a gentleman’s duty to take good care of ladies, or how women are so much more beautiful than gross, uncultured men.

That very same Sanji is currently sitting with Zoro’s arm around his back, his head resting comfortably on Zoro’s shoulder. Zoro’s hand is in Sanji’s hair, the gesture familiar, and Sanji clearly preens under the attention like a cat.

“Sorry, I forgot you weren’t there during Nami’s birthday,” Sanji says after he’s finally done laughing, “that’s when I first brought Zoro to meet the band.”

“Wait. Nami’s birthday?” The timeline doesn't add up — “Oh my god, Sanji, that was six months ago .”

Sanji shrugs, “yeah, my bad, I just kinda assumed everyone knew after that.”

Usopp is reeling from it all, because it’s just one revelation after another — not only Sanji started dating a man, Zoro isn’t even some random fling; they might even be going steady . Something he hasn’t seen Sanji do since he was fifteen and got his heart broken by a girl Usopp can’t even remember the name of anymore.

It’s turning Usopp’s world upside down, except when it’s — not. He never considered the possibility before, but looking back, it makes perfect sense. Sanji, with all his self-sabotaging insecurities, would find comfort in Zoro, who is clearly a man of actions. Sweet nothings would’ve done nothing to Sanji, but Zoro, who comes in to his boyfriend’s band practices despite his lack of interest, just because it’d make Sanji happy...Usopp can’t help but smile at the thought.

“Oi, what are you grinning for, Long Nose,” Sanji points out. “That’s creepy.”

“Nah, I was just thinking how sweet it is that Zoro would come to our band practices to support you,” Usopp answers without thinking. “He told me he got bored by it, but he still comes in because you want him to.”

Usopp watches the two men in front of him blush simultaneously at his words as Sanji disentangles himself from Zoro’s arm and sits up straighter. “What? The Marimo told you that?”

“I told you not to tell him!” Zoro growls, and looks away when Sanji turns to him with wide eyes. He buries his face in his hand, but even Usopp can see the blush reach the tips of Zoro’s ears. Sanji beams at the sight, and Usopp has never seen him so happy.

It’s sweet, and Usopp is happy for Sanji, but he still doesn’t want them to start making out here, ew, so he clears his throat.

Zoro and Sanji jump away from each other, clearly having forgotten about the only other person in the room. Sanji instantly scrambles to his feet and make his way to the DJ table, blabbering, “anyway, uh, I’m going to set things up, you just be a good boy and wait there as usual.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Zoro says, plopping back into the sofa, but Usopp notices how Zoro doesn’t immediately go to sleep like usual. Instead, his gaze lands on Sanji.

Zoro doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who beams, but right now there’s one of those little smiles on his face, the kind that someone wears when they think no one is looking. It erases the hard lines on his face, and there’s a flash of something — soft , in the way his gaze clings onto Sanji’s back.

Zoro is not so scary after all.