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diary-from-a-thoughtful-girl · 2 years ago

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stanford boy and breakups

Oliver and I broke up officially close to a month ago. For some reason and also for reasons I've overanalyzed, I'm not as sad as I feel like I should be and I feel pretty guilty about it. I almost feel relieved. I definitely still love him and have never lied to him about how I felt, but he just constantly would tell me nasty and purposefully hurtful things that resonated and genuinely killed me. He's been begging me to give him a second chance and the temptation is horribly so present, but I need this time for myself. He told me that I should have the respect to tell him if I hooked up with someone else and I lied and told him I didn't. I could hear how much it would hurt him and being a shit person and so so selfishly, I didn't want to forever lose him. It's been weighing on me though and I feel like an absolute piece of shit who will rot in hell because of it. I should tell him, I have to tell him... I do love him, I just need the time for myself.

In lighter tones, single life has been weird and interesting. I'm visiting home right now. Although my grades are absolute shit and I'm having a crisis on what I want to do with my life and have been a little scared if I'm going to be struggling my whole life, I've been pretty good. Being by myself has become comforting rather than depressing during my freshman year of college. I'm starting to journal as you can see, I've been talking to friends I lose contact with, and I've been reading a good amount.

Recently, I've finished The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo (3.8/5), Verity (2.3/5 - just because I hate scary stuff), and One Day (4.7/5). One Day had the potential to be my favorite book ever, it had thought processes that were similar to mine and written anecdotes that just made you wanting more and whole-heartedly rooting for Em and Dex to get together. The negative is that we barely got to see them together which is fine, but then Dex dated the manager of his store after the love of his life died. What the fuck is that?? A book love or true love that ends in one of them dying should leave the other scarred for life. The significant other shouldn't be able to move on. They should live the rest of their life in sorrow, constantly thinking about them. Is that toxic? I think anyone whose together for more than seven years or older than 40 years old. I don't know. I'm only nineteen.

I've been home for about a week and am leaving to go back to college in a week. I knew this before, but I only had Oliver to hang out with here so I've been annoying my sister a good amount. With being around her in her environment, I've realized that she's probably my best friend, but I am not hers. She's at the age where she's bitchy and feels above literally everything which is the most annoying thing in the world. She's still someone who makes me genuinely die from laughter, I just hope she grows out of it. One thing that I'm addicted to is how we look walking around, especially where I am in college. Because we're styling and young (and maybe because we're asian), we get stares and comments of flattery. Although I'm being vain, I completely adore it. I get them with other people in my life, but it's always more fun and more a scene from a movie when it's with your sister. I've also never cared about fashion until her. Now I'm obsessed with it and have a shopping addiction.

I haven't been doing much at home. I downloaded a dating app and have some guilt about it with Oliver. Anyways, along with Tik Tok, they have been so addictive with people liking how I look, giving me cheesy compliments, meaningless conversations, and the feeling of being validated - all with a swipe of a finger. It's so much judgment solely based on somebody's physical attributes. It's honestly horrible and I'm never going to find anyone serious on here and there's a big part of me that hates it, but I am so so addicted to it.

It's also where I met LB. I went to high school with him and we've been in the same classes or group projects, but we didn't really know each other. It didn't stop us though from swiping right and from him messaging me "Haha no way what's good" as if we were lifelong friends that were rekindling a friendship and was the validation that he knew who I was. He flirted with me, I flirted back - making up the story that I watched a scary movie and that I was scared so that he would respond with being the protective man who held me while I was scared. One thing that girls learn easily is that men are so predictable when you know they think you're attractive and want to hook up with you to some degree (which is exactly what Tinder gives you). I was still nervous as I haven't hooked up with anyone since Oliver. I had anxiety about it and kept ranting about it to M and C.

But, even though I barely knew him, I felt safe with him and knew I could get over my first hook-up after Oliver with L. I obviously didn't and will never tell L that, but it was true. My anxiety pushed it off as far as it could with still constant snapchats and boring talks about work and what the other was doing and excuses that came about in my family and the lack of car. Then, he snapchatted me saying that he was leaving that day and if I wanted to hang out.

I knew that if I was going to do this, I would have to make that decision quickly. I was able to pull off seeing him at the very last minute I could due to my anxiety with the lack of responding from me and the bringing up of having my sister. This changed almost completely when I saw him.

I remember him from high school - this gigantic teddy bear jock who, besides looking cluelessly around in APUSH and seeming like he doesn't have a care in the world, was annoyingly smart. Looking at him now, he's gotten more attractive with kept facial hair, routine hair cuts, and a body that became more built somehow.

But, what I thought was his lack of care before became nervousness by the moment he sat down next to me at the beach. It was adorable and with his nerves came my confidence. We talked like we were old friends that lost touch. I put on my best attentive looks while pretending like I didn't know that he was on the Stanford Football team and that that wasn't the most attractive thing in the world for me. Athleticism and intelligence - I get so obsessed.

When our catching up came to a close, he offered to drive me home which I gratefully, and expectantly, accepted. We walked around 4 blocks talking about how we wanted dogs and I could feel the intentional movements towards me. His hand would graze mine that would send a wave of excitement through me. Honestly, I loved it. Loved how easily he made me laugh and how he thought he was being smooth. He tried putting his arm around me, but I personally hate when any guy does that. It's awkward - your arm is heavy, weighing and messing up my hair and I clearly have a bag. Anyway, we got to his car which was a mini cooper - nearly the opposite type of car I'd think he would have. He threw my bag as well as my towel I lent him into his trunk. I climbed into his passenger seat, telling myself to breath and that he was as nervous as me.

He started driving in the direction of my house. I pretended like I was interested in stick shift which he could definitely see through. By the way, stick shift sucks. It was starting and stopping then starting and stopping. When we got onto the highway, his hand touched my thigh, his fingers tracing my skin. I could feel my breathing become shallow as my mind attached to his hand. When he had to change gears, I was able to focus on whatever stupid thing we were talking about. It went on like this and I became to resent stick shift. L was able to put me into this trance where I was so aware of his hand and the soft touch that he had then he would have to change gears.

The only thing was that I had no idea what to do with my hands. His arm and hand took most of the space in the tiny mini cooper so I awkwardly sat there with my arms crossed. He was inching towards where I wanted him to go and when the stick shift finally let him, I felt that feeling in the pit of my stomach that craved him. I didn't know how much I wanted it until my mouth fell open and my head tilted back. I began to loath myself for not shaving and claiming that I was on my period. I think he could tell that I was getting turned on because when he asked me where I wanted to go, his voice became darker, rougher, and more attractive then I could imagine.

We ended up going to the pool house in my neighborhood. I won't be disgusting and share details, but in the middle of it, after I, regrettingly, told him I was self-conscious about not shaving, he grabbed the waistband of my jeans and, mumbling to himself and to me, growled saying, "I'm sorry, but I need to touch you". I genuinely became weak. Like jello. I've had those words said to me, but to be told by basically a stranger was the most hottest thing ever. Something I never thought would happen was that my moans and my whimpers were matching his. When it was over and he was driving me back, he filled the silence with thank you's which pissed me off. Don't thank me like I did a service for you, it was a mutual thing.

It's been around three days and I keep randomly thinking about him. Not in an emotional way or in an attached way, but in a thinking about the way he wanted me way and the fact that I'll never see him again. Honestly, if all hook ups were like that, I would do it all the time.

I'm curious if I"ll ever see him again. Kind of scared that he thought of my insecurities too much, but I'm not going to get into that. If I ever do see him, you'll know about it. That's it for right now. Suddenly feeling embarrassed about all of this.

#diary #thoughts #sex and the city #carrie bradshaw

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willczek-art · 7 years ago

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Version of day-before-yesterday’s fake comic cover, just without the text, so it’s just a drawing... of my superhero OC Rosefinch C: Sketches as a bonus :P

Want to see the cover in good quality? Check it out on DA :P This version without my terrible handwriting is also there :D

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nightshadedawn · 3 years ago

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Writing prompts!!

Select one of the prompts and a ship and I'll write 300 words for it! I'll keep this open for a week!

Prompts are broken up into categories and further numbered within those categories to help everyone quickly find prompts, so please either give me the category and number of prompt or the prompt itself.

Fuck

"Fuck you." "You know what, [name], I've been trying but you haven't been cooperating." "What."

"I don't hate you." "You bought an entire fucking island to avoid me so we wouldn't be roommates our second year of college." "It obviously didn't work out well because we still ended up in Art History together."

"I'm fucked, I'm screwed. I'm gonna faaaaiillll."

"Well, fuck me and leave me to bleed."

"You're crazy." "Yeah, I'm fucking insane!"

"I have fucking questions!"

"You sir- are fucking hilarious."

"I love you but you're a fucking idiot."

"Love- fuck off."

"I'm cute as all fuck, but I'm an asshole if you piss me off."

"Insomnia's a real fucker, you know?"

"Fuck it- just- breathe! Breathe, damnit!"

"You and your bisexual ass can get the fuck out of here."

"Let's fuck the world over, 'cause that's all we're good for."

"Fuck it. We're not done yet."

"Occasionally I tell people to go fuck themselves just to mess with their puny lives."

"I didn't want anyone else. Fuck it, I just wanted YOU."

"You're a fucking bisexual disaster. Don't at me, brah."

"I'm just a sad, mostly human being that doesn't know what they're doing with their life." "Only mostly?" "Granny honestly got it on so who knows what the fuck Mom is."

"I don't mind if you call me a freak, just don't say it to my face. That's really rather rude." "You're a fucking idiot." "Yes, I've been told."

"I'm DONE! I'm done acting happy, I'm done pretending to be okay, I'm DONE playing this game. I am so. Fucking. DONE. With shits like you! Don't ever come near me again."

"The only reason I kept fighting was because of the people I cared about! And you took them all away from me! I'm not done fighting yet! I'm not done fucking fighting until your body is rotting in the fucking ground!"

"Giving a fuck what other people think about you is like giving them control of your life."

"Please don't pretend to give a fuck about me. I know better now."

"They said I can't." "Well, fuck 'em." "What?" "You're not weak. It's your life. Fuck 'em. Do what you want."

"I trust you about as far as I can throw you. Which is to say I don't. I can't. I'm weak as all fuck."

"I'm as cute as a cucumber. Wait, fuck, that's a kiwi."

Shit

"When you're a sarcastic piece of shit but people keep falling in love with you anyway."

"My sister is a huge piece of shit." "Awe, that's not nice. What'd the shit ever do to you?"

"Shit aside, this isn't the worst plan put into motion."

"Literally no one cares about that shit."

"I'm not a bitch, I'm an asshole. Guys still want to screw me even if all I spew is shit."

"Congratulations! You're in deep shit."

"You've shown great aptitude for bullshitting."

"Shit... I don't... I don't know why I'm crying... Just please don't leave me alone..." "Never."

"I'm one of those people that people regularly tell me not to do stupid shit and I do it anyway."

"I've lived my life watching through windows. I'm ready to go break shit now."

"I promise, I'm okay."

"You expect me to believe that bullshit!?"

"I'm just getting a little tired of having to deal with this shit!"

"Hey, I'm kinda feeling like shit tonight. You think you could... come cuddle me?"

"I don't see myself as someone who breaks promises, spills secrets, or tells lies. I'm not a great person like that statement would suggest. I just don't talk to people enough, and when I do, I don't give enough of a shit to care."

Asshole

"'Cause sometimes, people are just assholes no one else cares about."

"It was an accident! I didn't mean to-" "Now why don't I believe you?" "Because I'm an arrogant prick and an asshole." "At least you're aware of your short comings."

"No, I'm not getting high off lemonade. What are you drinking, bitch?"

"If you're not sucking cock for the fun of it, I don't know what you're doing with your life."

"Ten out of ten. Would bang again." "Please stop." "Love you, babe."

Forget

"I haven't quite forgiven you for that." "No, I don't expect you did."

"The most unforgettable stories are also the most unbelievable, don't you know?"

"I don't need you to hold me like it's okay to forget. I need you to hold me like it's okay to remember, to hold on, and then to let go."

"Sometimes people forget... I'm not normal."

"The world is a wonderful, beautiful, amazing place. That's why it doesn't matter if in thirty years, no one remembers us."

"I want you to remember what it felt like to fight against me."

"Do you remember what it was like when we were young and alright?"

"Do you remember what I promised? That we'd always be together. I don't break promises. Not to anyone, but never to you. As long as you'll have me, I'll be right here. So please, let me stay."

"I want you to remember this feeling; it will follow you all your life."

"Why don't you remember ANYTHING I said!?"

Pain

"Don't you ever wish we could ever be something different? Like, I don't know. Something less hellish?" "I don't know. Sometimes I welcome the pain."

"I just get so restless, and I can't stop moving, and when I have to sit down and focus... it's really hard because I just want to be up. It's genuinely painful when it strikes in the middle of class or something."

"Pain is what made me human."

"You don't understand all the pain we went through to get where we are now."

"I will break, I will burn, but I will not let you hurt me."

"Listen to me and this broken heart of mine."

"It's not your fault you've been hurt before."

"I don't enjoy hurting people." "Could'a fooled me."

"Does it hurt?" "Always."

“It’s not me you have to worry about killing you if you hurt our daughter, it’s my wife.” “Oh, honey, you know me so well.”

"I knew from the beginning I'd never be able to hurt you."

"I shouldn't care. Caring only hurts."

"Sometimes when people get hurt, they shut themselves away. They push away people and the things that hurt them. But I think it's more interesting when they fight back. Revenge is a bitter tale, but it's a more interesting story told."

"I don't want to fall in love. Falling means you get hurt. I want to grow. I want to grow to love someone, see them at their smallest and grow into their mightiest. I want to grow to love, because when something grows, it never stops growing."

"My head feels heavy and my heart just hurts."

"Don't stress the small stuff. It only makes your brain hurt."

"In the end, we were made of blood that could be spilt and bones that could be broken."

"'Broken,' he'd promised. And 'broken' he'd become."

Death

"I have been scared of many things. Surprisingly, my death has never been one of them."

"They're both very strong willed, bull headed, "death to all those who defy me" kind of people."

"Even the bravest close their eyes when facing Death."

"Death seems like the best option right now." "No. No, it does not."

"Touch my phone and you accept Death as your new best friend."

"You tend to just find death everywhere you go. Isn't that a problem?"

"Death is not a good look on you, honey."

"I've got about a hundred years worth of death on my hands and isn't that great?"

"Death comes to all those who wait for it."

"Murder, death, and mayhem are my favorite things to write about."

"You are an angel of death by association. This is your duty."

"I hope you've got some kind of special armor under that dress, 'cause with the way you're surrounded, if you don't, you're gonna die."

"We're gonna die." "That's the plan."

"How many times must she die before you're satisfied?!"

"This time, I'm not letting you die for me."

"Someone's gonna die tonight, but it ain't gonna be me."

"Fine. I'll let you die. I'll just have to bring you back to life."

"But why'd you have to die?"

"If I die, it's officially Your Fault."

"Welp. time to die again,"

"No! No! You don't get to die! You don't get to die and leave me alone!"

"Don't ask me that! Don't do that!" "Why?" "Because everyone knows that when you talk about the future right before a big battle, you're gonna die!"

"When it comes down to it, I want you to make sure I die."

"How did you save them?" "Easy- I died."

"I would live and die for you, but I'd never kill."

"We are not gods. But I shall die like one anyway."

"There was a time when I swear I was just waiting to die."

"I'd rather destroy myself than let her die for me."

"The truth is- I'm just tired of watching you die."

"I've died so many times, and I'm still falling for you."

"I am so done with children." "You have nine." "And I would die for each and every one of them."

"It's a miracle in itself that you haven't died yet."

"The explosion killed thousands. How are you alive?"

"You bother me." "I can't imagine why." "Surely it has nothing to do with the fact you've killed hundreds of people including my family. That couldn't possibly be it."

"I trust you, but the question is, do you trust me?" "I trust you not to get yourself killed." "I think you might be asking a little too much."

"How are you going to tell your sister you killed her best friend?" "I'm not." "That's no way to start a relationship."

"You are legit trying to kill me." "Oh darling, if I really wanted to kill you, I wouldn't be trying. You'd be dead already."

"I'm pretty sure I killed someone. But then again, I could be wrong."

"I'm going to kill someone." "Oh dear god, please be me."

"Ohhhhh, my sister's gonna kill me for this one."

"One time my sister tried to tell me I wasn't right. Valid, I wasn't. But I still tried to kill her anyway."

"Do what you will. But don't come crying to me if it kills you."

"Oh god, just kill me now." "As you wish."

"The next time somebody tries to kill, me, I'm gonna scream." "I should hope so?"

"This child threatened to kill me." "She threatened to burn the entire city to the ground. I don't see what your point is."

"We are all dead and it’s your fault!"

"Oh look. The sun is shining, nobody is dead- today's gonna be a good day."

"I swore I wouldn't do it again. But here I am. Wishing all of them dead."

"I guess being dead wasn't good enough for you. You wanted to erase me from history too."

"Who even knows if we'll be alive tomorrow?"

"What story did they tell you?" "That'd I'd never make it out alive."

"And if I refuse?" "Well, *chuckle* don't suppose you'll get out of this alive."

"You just need to survive."

"The world is a cruel, unfair place. But it's the one we live in, so we gotta do what we can to survive."

"You've done your best to destroy me, but I survived all along."

"I survive because there is nothing else I could do."

"The world didn't want me. But I survived anyway."

"I think I'm more surprised that you're telling me this than the fact that you survived it."

"We exist in this time and place. This isn't the end."

"You hide it in the corners of your mind like it doesn't exist."

"Once upon a time, there was a girl. A regular, ordinary type of girl. The kind of girl... that no longer exists."

"In any other world, we would not exist."

"Hell exists in ways you don't expect it to."

"I exist in your eyes, but not in your life."

"You weren't supposed to exist."

"I suppose that magic exists. In some way or another."

"Time is inconsequential. Unreal. It doesn't exist. All that exists is the here and now."

"The world only exists the way we want it to."

"The world need not know you exist. More importantly, the world need not know you exist as you do."

"Who's dying this time?"

"I've existed long enough to know this is a very bad idea."

"We only sort of exis

"There's something beautiful in the way you look at the world like nothing else exists."

"We exist to be tempered into impossible weapons."

"I am aware of worlds and things that should not exist."

"The difference you have to learn about the past and future is that the future gives us a reason to keep living... the past only exists to hold us back."

"You are the bane of my existence." "I'm the bane of existence in general."

"How many times have I thought about dying? Too many."

My entire life you've made me cry. All you're doing now is making me cry again.

"My room's a mess. Kinda like my life. But nobody's complaining about that."

"My life was wonderful. But it was better without you in it."

When life gives ya lemons, we find someone who has vodka and makes martinis.

"She's living her life in monochrome."

"There are some things in life that just get you down. And then there's her."

"I've been wrong all my life. This is just another instance, isn't it?

"Home is not a place. It's a feeling. Feeling of contentment, life, respect, safety. That is home."

"I live off of two things: spite and validation. I live to spite those who say I can't, but I need validation from those who say I can."

"Please don't live for tomorrow. Live for today."

"My favorite kind of people are the ones who live for themselves, and not for anyone else."

I knew we'd live forever.

"There's not enough time on Earth to see everything. We could go back a billion years and live every moment up to now, and even then we wouldn't see everything." "Nah. But with you, I'd like to try. I feel like I could do anything with you by my side."

#persona 5 #pegoryuann #pegoryu #shuann #yutaba #sk8 the infinity #matchablossom #renga #bnha #bakudeku #kirikami #iidachako #todomomo #if you have questions about another show or ship send me an ask because I honestly am terrible at tagging and i might still be into it #haikyuu!!#kagehina #asanoya #daisuga #honestly most haikyuu ships i just don't know most of their names

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ac3id · 4 years ago

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pairings: shigaraki tomura x female reader

warnings: nsfw, dubcon, captivity, yandere shiggs, mention of death, shiggs is a meanie, dumbification if ya squit.

a/n: im so glad someone requested this!! i will litereally never shut up about man also!! shigaraki is beefed up in this cus that man finna get permanent residency in my head

word count. 1557

Imagine: Shigaraki taking the small, cute little pathetic nurse of the hospital he hijacked as his darling.

It takes some time for him to find you tolerable. At first, he absolutely loathes you; you’re always crying over the littlest things, always painting him to be the bad guy and you even refuse to give treatment to his men. And honestly, that pisses him off the most. You’re completely brainwashed by society. What do you mean you won’t help men like ‘him’? Are you that superior? You get to decide what’s right and what’s wrong? Are his men not humans? He hates you. If it weren’t for the situation he had faced himself in, he would have decayed you in the blink of an eye. But now after a failed mission and a lot of casualties on his side, he needed your quirk.

When he kidnaps you, finally, it’s not because he loves you and wants to take care of you. No. It’s because he wants to torture you- literally. He’s so sick of your hot-headedness, so sick of your ideals- how you still think heroes will come to save you from those nefarious villains. Shigaraki wants to break you, show you how pathetic you really are. And so he does.

One day he just gets so tired of your antics, you’re ignoring him- something you find yourself doing very often these days. You isolate yourself from him and everyone. You run to a storage room and hide, your knees pressed to your chest and head held down. You sniffle into your knees, you never wanted this happen. What did I do to this deserve this? When would the heroes come? You chanted to yourself. Deep down, you knew Shigaraki was right but you didn’t want to believe it. You didn’t want to believe that the world was so hollow and even if it was, you’d choose to ignore it. You’d live your life the way you want to and believe in that devil’s words. You’d-

The door slams open, a big angry looking Shigaraki stands in the there, his eyes fuming with murderous intent. He rushes towards and wastes no time in clasping his big, sturdy hands around your petite neck and you pulling you up. He squeezes around it and choking noises fills the room, your hands automatically wrap around his trying to push him off but it’s all in vain. He’s too strong and you’re too dumb. You let out choked pleads, begging him to let you go and that you’ll help him. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you cause he needed you, you believed that he’d-

“If you’re thinking that I won’t kill you right this instant. You are wrong. I will take away your quirk for myself and leave you here to bite the dust. Don’t test me.”

He drops you to the floor, you rub your neck and try to collect yourself. He looks down at you, the way your tremble reminds him of a puppy who’s been kicked. He smiles to himself, he crouches down and grabs the collar of your shirt, pulling you closer to him. “I don’t like being mean to a pretty little thing like you,” he confesses and your eyebrows knit together. Why is he talking to you like this?

“Use your dumb little head, okay? Listen to me.” His hold from your collar disappears and he stands back to his full height hovering over, you looked like an ant under and he looked like monster. You look up at him with tears pricking at the corners of your eyes- he’s the predator and you’re the prey. There’s no denying it. You were stupid for choosing not to submit to him before but now, you know he’s not the one to show mercy. He’s going to give you one chance you better not disappoint him.

You started to obey him after he had threatened you, knowing full well he’d take your quirk and kill you the very next second. You did not want to challenge or anger him. It’s for my own survival, you tell yourself. You help his men, you sit, biting back your urge to hit Dabi as you tend to his wounds while he throws obscene remarks of what he’d do to a girl like you or how you have to stop your self from throwing up as you listen to Toga explain in detail about what she wants to this boy she’s crushing on. It’s hard work. Spinner and Mr. Compress were a little better but considering the fact that they come back to you after murdering innocents. It surely manages to you up at night.

It doesn’t take long for Shigaraki to develop a soft spot for you, he likes this new you. You are submissive, you listen to him. He finally managed to put you in your place.

You did not think about those heroes anymore, did you?

Ridiculously, he finds a friend in you, both of you start talking. You talk about your day with him he tells you about his, you drink together and as much as you shouldn’t; you find yourself enjoying your time with the league.

You come to understand them and you forget that you’re being held, hostage. Call it Stockholm syndrome but you didn’t care. The newfound joy lasts but all things must end.

The calm before the storm: Shigaraki suddenly finds himself falling for you, your shy habits- how you’d twirl your hair when you got nervous or chewed on your lip while concentrating. How your cheeks stained pink in your intoxicated state. He noticed everything, he didn’t want to believe he was falling for but the way butterflies that danced around in his stomach when your finger grazed over his, how his mood turned better when you entered the room. The signs were obvious. He was in love

He thought he’d tell you about his feelings for you before they left the hospital, all his men had recovered wonderfully courtesy to you. You’d flee with him and the both of you would be happy together forever a perfect ending for a new beginning. He confesses his love to you two days before his departure, he tells you how he wants to spend his life with you, how he thinks you’re the one but to his dismay. You don’t feel the same.

It breaks his heart into pieces, he can’t believe what he just heard. You’re kidding, right? You love him the way he loves you. Right?

No? No.

He’s pissed. Needless to say, even though you rejected his proposal, he still takes you along. He locks you in one of the many rooms of the PLF mansion. The only person you can see is him, he spends hours trying to make you understand why you needed him but you don’t budge. It’s like starting all over again. He is kind at the beginning but as days go by and his frustrations increase he just ends up using you like his fuckhole, bending you over whenever he wants and fucking your brains out. Shoving his cock down your throat, leaving you a quivering mess.

If you refuse or hesitate, he’d threaten you. He’ll take away your quirk and chop your legs and arms clean and leave you to rot. He’s done it before (you recall the incident with Overhaul). It leaves you no choice but to listen to him. He wins all the time.

“Faster,” Shigaraki grunts. He has your wrists tied behind your back, his fingers tugging on your nipples, hard grinning at how your face confronts in pain. “Come on, whore. I know you can do better than this” he says staring at how your tiny cunt takes his huge cock. He was mesmerized, the way your walls wrapped around his girth. It was obviously too much for you, you could barely keep. The way your tongue lolled out of your mouth and eyes crosses, it was given.

Unable to form responses you only whined in protest, hoping Shigaraki would take it easy on you but he just laughed. “What are you saying, my dumb little baby?” he asked in a condescending voice. It made you feel pathetic, he treated you like a pet who couldn’t for look after herself. It drove you mad that you couldn’t do anything about it, his hand snakes around your neck holding it firmly you stop moving on his dick. Keeping it settled warmly in your hole he pulls you down, his lips level with your ear. “Do it properly, my love,” you cringe internally at the nickname- a second ago he was calling you a whore. “If you don’t, I’ll take quirk,” your face pales, you couldn’t lose your quirk. It was all you had. “Please...Don’t do that. It’s all I have.” your voice cracks and tears roll to your cheeks, “It’s okay, baby. Just do it again. Be better this time,” he coos his hand patting your back as he restrains himself from thrusting into you, he lets you go and you start rocking your hips again trying to satisfy him, he grips your waist tightly; it would leave marks later.

Shigaraki stares at you sleeping next to him, after a tiring session you were finally getting well deserved rest. You had obeyed him beautifully today, he wondered how long would it take before you realized that; it wasn’t your quirk which was all you had left. It was him.

feedback is greatly appreciated!!

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alch3mic · 4 years ago

Text

in between. (drabble series)

chapter four (stitches.)

captain!sans x gender neutral reader. 3k+ word count.

please be advised for themes of anxiety, ideas of loss, depression, and self esteem.

* finally at the fourth chapter with our dear fellswap sans, captain! he also has no official fic yet but has his own tag here on my tumblr if you’d like to know more about him! thank you and i hope you enjoy!

A project.

That's all this was meant to be.

Something to keep him preoccupied in his free time, now that he seemed to have more time on his hands than he knew what to do with.

Somewhere to put his focus, instead of thinking about things.

Instead of stressing about things.

Instead of.. worrying about.. 'things'.

Like this.. 'thing'.. attached to him.

...

"ya can't just keep pacin' around bro."

Sure he could.

He could pace around as much as he wanted. It was his boat dammit, and he'd walk around it as he pleased, from the bow to the stern, topside and back.

"Shouldn't you be resting?"

No.

How could he? There was work to be done.

All his life he had filled himself with his work. It was all he knew.

Work.

Work

Work.

Work

From his time as a child, working to take care of his younger brother to ensure he was brought up properly to his time in the royal guard working hard every day to support them and make sure they both survived that horrid Underground. Even on the surface he worked and worked and worked, to regain his position as a monster worthy of fear and respect after the humans had stripped them of everything and leaving them to rot like strays on the street.

Every minute of every day he worked.

Most days he even dreamed of it.

Which is exactly why it was so difficult to sit still, even at your request.

"You really should just take it easy, Sans. Didn't Undyne say to not stress yourself out?"

She did, but it didn't matter.

He was in a constant state of being stressed.

Stressed was how he operated.

Stressed was all he knew.

His body could never give him the pleasure of just 'taking it easy', constantly buzzing, constantly wanting to be in motion. At times he envied his brother for being able to let things go and just kick back, but... that was exactly why he worked so hard wasn't it?

So that his brother could relax without a worry in that thick skull of his..?

Of course.. he knew Papyrus went through his own troubles.. it's just...

Gah.

This free time was now filling his head with unnecessary thoughts, even as he tried his best to busy himself by patrolling his own boat.

..Which was only adding to his stress...

"Lets try a hobby. What do you normally do for fun?"

Think of you.

Well..

He didn't have to now that you were here with him.

He could just spend time with you instead of daydreaming about it.

And he did.

You humored him by relaxing together topside with him and Papyrus, enjoying the salty breezes of the ocean and the warm summer rays. The two of you would chat in his bed for hours, laughing and telling stories of the past as you laid close. You'd help him, by offering an arm when he wore himself out or when he needed help doing something that required two hands. Everything from opening jars to preparing dinner or even tying his shoes.

It was..

Ah, dammit it was so humiliating.

..And also made him strangely happy?

He was.. happily humiliated?

..Humbled?

..Stars.

He never had anyone taken care of him before, so his pride was taking a major blow every time you offered to help. A part of him was glad you'd always ask first so he'd at least get to attempt at doing it by himself but.. it was also humiliating to give in. He was too stubborn for his own good, never having anyone extend a hand for him neither below ground or on the Surface.

Still you never seemed bothered.

You never batted an eye when he'd turn to you. Sometimes all it took was a look from him and you just knew, without having any words be spoke. Having that kind of connection was..

Incredible.

It had been something the both of you had obviously over the years, but only now it was showing itself in the mundane parts of your lives now that you were with him. Normally it had been when you locked eyes in a fight in the streets of Ebott, and he could see the whole encounter play out in his mind. How you'd swing, how he'd shoot. How you both would nearly hit each other both on purpose and on accident.

Like a dance with death only the two of you could perform.

And how beautifully you danced for him..

Now.. having that connection manifest positively, in quiet agreements and silent conversations that took only seconds to have, really drove home the fact that times have changed.

That he was no longer the skeleton he was before.

He had you now, which was different.

You were his.

And he was yours.

Though.. in truth you always had a part of soul with you even if you never realized it.

And he always had Papyrus by his side.

That could never change.

But now.. he also had..

That.

The 'thing'.

An arm.

That.. didn't belong to him.

It was attached, sure, but..

It was foreign.

Heavy.

A burden.

It was consequences of his actions taken form of something that use to be, but no longer was. Like a cruel symbol of mockery, forever attached to his own broken body. There was nothing but the tickling of a sensation of pain, like a phantom dancing across his bones, from a limb that was no longer there. The magic in his scapula hummed louder than the rest of his body, always catching his attention as it had been enhanced to support the weight of his new arm. It was irritating and constant, like a buzz he couldn't be rid of no matter how loud his thoughts were or tried to be.

Always there.

Always ringing in his skull.

It was driving him crazy, adding to the mounting stress.

"FOR FUN? EASY. TRAP MAKING. ANALYTICS. READING THE STOCKS AND NEWS."

"Well that's depressing."

"STAYING INFORMED IS IMPORTANT, DARLING."

"And so is your mental health, Sans. Ignoring this won't make it go away you know."

The metallic hand closed on a reflex when he felt your gaze upon it.

He didn't like it, despite how incredible Undyne's work was. She had studied him for weeks while he recovered in her intensive care, all so she could make an exact replica of his now missing arm. It looked just like the real thing only casted in asatollite, a type of metal found in the Underground that could conduct magic. No wires. No heavy plating. Just an arm, moved by his own magic.

An impressive feat really, but he felt no pride in this.

..Only shame.

As someone who had lived their life known for cutting it close time and time again, this was now all the proof someone needed that they could actually lay their hands on him. There was a chance that someone could hit and do some serious damage.

For some, that would be enough to push their determination over the edge.

The proof that he couldn't dodge forever.

And here it was, glinting under the soft afternoon sunlight that filtered into his quarters.

This... was his decline wasn't it?

..He could feel it in his bones.

Here marked the end of his reign of terror as Captain, the scarred skeleton who ruled the docks of Ebott City with an iron fist. Now that once unrelenting grip which strangled the life of rats out of the marine failed to even grasp a pen properly.

It stung in such a strange way that he almost didn't know how to describe it.

It was a unsightly fall from grace, paired with happiness and misery.

He was muddled with complicated feelings that really didn't have proper words, and so instead of spending his days thinking about it while lying in bed, he paced around his ship.

"Is there anything you've ever wanted to learn?"

He only learned what was necessary.

Languages to properly communicate with associates, skills like learning to shoot with a gun so that he could avoid having his magic traced back to him, and cooking so he could make sustainable meals when he and Papyrus had nothing..

They weren't things he did for fun, they were necessary.

What else could he learn that was necessary?

"HOW ABOUT TEACHING ME TO CUT A BULLET LIKE YOU DID BACK IN THE 'SISCO EXCHANGE."

"I'm not teaching you that."

"AND WHY'S THAT?"

"I don't need to make you any more dangerous than you already are you bonehead. I meant something fun! Like.. maybe a sport?"

"I THROW DARTS. I ALSO SHOOT."

"I.. Okay I guess that counts," you said, glancing to the wall of his quarters where the board was set up.

It's true it was a dart board hanging on the wall, but it was littered with photos of thugs and politicians, a dart neatly nailed through their head. It honestly looked like more of an omen of things to come rather than a hobby.

"Anything else?"

...

"I PLAYED THE VIOLIN FOR A SHORT WHILE."

"You did?"

"YES. BACK IN THE UNDERGROUND. I FOUND ONE IN THE DUMP AND TAUGHT MYSELF TO PLAY WHEN I DISCOVERED PAPYRUS LIKED THE WAY IT SOUNDED. IT WOULD HELP PUT HIM TO SLEEP ON SOME OF THE ROUGHER NIGHTS."

"Aww. Maybe you could think about picking it back up. I'd love to hear you play!"

He would, eventually.

For right now.. the task seemed so daunting now that he had..

...That.

"..But maybe not yet."

Another silent conversation, passed by only the glint in his eyesocket. Once again he was glad he didn't have to openly admit he might struggle with learning something like that again but.. a small pass of shame also washed over him. He'd love to play for you, to maybe even create his own music to reflect the feelings you gave him in his soul, but to move this metallic.. 'thing'.. to play would be..

He'd become frustrated, just like with everything else.

"AND WHAT DO YOU DO TO RELAX MY DEAR?"

"Me? I usually sew or knit."

Right. Costumes. That’s why you asked to have your own space in that free room on the ship. You had mentioned it once before, how you use to do costuming back in the day for plays and helped your father who worked as a tailor until...

Hm.

"YOU SELL YOUR PIECES DON'T YOU?"

"Just to a few people. I make dresses for Mr. Rose's granddaughter and Rumpelstiltskin still orders some pieces for his wife. I also send some more elaborate stuff the Prince's way every once in awhile and I even still get requests from Mama Bear even after they disappeared off into the forest. I think they might finally have a Baby Bear on the way because they asked about knitting a little blanket a few days ago."

...

He.. tried to not humor the thought of just sailing away from this city with you, like that lucky bastard did with his spouse when he took off into the woods. Of course he couldn't, he knew Papyrus would stay here with Happy and he'd never want to be far from his brother.

Still...

It was a tempting idea.

"I could always teach you. It's a pretty good skill to just learn how to hand stitch to mend clothing and it really isn't too complicated."

He relented ...of course.

Because he always did to you, with that smile on your face and the hum in your tone.

.....

Learning from you had been everything he hoped for, with you sitting close to him as you taught him how to thread a needle. You were patient with him as he struggled, his hand shaking as he did his best to will his magic to move. You were gentle as you taught him to stitch carefully and slowly, following along side as you guided him every step of the way.

...He'll never forget the way you laughed at his first pass though.

He had been so damn.. angry!

Really, you had the nerve to laugh even when he did his best!

You were the worst, which is why exactly he had to pin you down and tickle you until you couldn't breathe. At least he could use that wretched metal arm to press your hands above your head as you desperately tried to wrestle out of his hold until you were flushed and gasping for breath.

His next attempt was alone late at night, when even the stars on the deck above couldn't quell his thoughts. They ran wild in his head, stampeding and thrashing about.

At his failures.

At his mistakes.

At the humming in his shoulder and the arm that ached despite not being there. So he tried to not think about it as he quietly threaded the needle under the dim yellow lights in his quarters. The quiet creak and groan of the boat was his only accompaniment along your soft breathing from the bed as you peacefully slumbered away.

In and out.

He timed his stitches with your breaths, pushing the needle through the felt and then back again as he sewed the two pieces of scrap fabric together. It was strange how difficult this was, willing his fingers to move while simply pushing and pulling a needle. His jaw would tense as his hand shook at times and failed to grasp the needle, and then he'd hear you let out a sigh and he'd relax again.

In and out.

Until the stitch was done.

Until he hushed the wild thoughts in his head and put his stress to bed.

Until he could no longer deny himself your company and he'd fall back to your side, finally delving into the depths of sleep.

He spent many days and nights like this, a fire ignited in his soul to hear your praise the first time.

"Seems like your stitched are getting tighter. Nice work there, Cap."

That was all he needed.

Your words. Your smile. The exigent that reflected in your beautiful eyes. You were proud of him, and it made him work all the harder as he sat with you in the room you had taken for your sewing. This place had been your sanctuary, something he once avoided entering to at least give you a little room for yourself on the ship, but now he found reassurance in it as well.

The whir of your sewing machine had become a comfort, able to drown out the buzz in his head as he worked beside you. Soft colorful fabrics lined the shelves in the wall and a half finished dress would decorate a mannequin or two. The both of you would drink coffee and chit chat as he tried to get lost in the motions of hand stitching pieces of scrap fabric together.

He didn't want to constantly strain himself to move his arm.

He wanted it to be natural.

He wanted to use his hand without a second thought.

He wanted it to be like..

How it use to be.

But it could.. never really be like it use to be.

And he struggled and struggled and struggled.

In the weeks that had dragged by, both you and Papyrus had picked up small gigs to help patch the hole his injury was leaving.

Sans was... or had been.. the bread maker.

He always prided himself on providing by running the docks, able to keep his rather lavish lifestyle alive by delivering cargo from overseas to sellers like the Fell brothers and the other croons of this city, but the two of you had insisted on him resting, so his businesses and trades had all but halted.

You were still far off from ever putting a dent in his savings, but the two of you worked regardless to ease his stress.

..Because somehow, even having the back up funds prepared for events like this, didn't stop Sans from stressing.

The only part that annoyed him about it was that you had less time to teach him. You focused more on your commissions, so Sans would leave you in peace to your quiet room and stitch in his quarters.

He hadn't really decided what he wanted to work towards from stitching. It had simply become a tool to help train his fingers, so now that he could sew what was he suppose to do with the skill?

...

....

.....

It was a quiet afternoon in his quarters, the low hum of a forgotten radio on his desk as a deep voice rattled off the daily news mixed with a garble of static. Being so far out into the marine meant the reception wasn't good, but he could pick up key terms as the voice drawled on. Another murder on the west side, some more fights in the south and some re-election news. Not like it mattered who was in charge these days. The faces changed but at the end of the day these suits always lined their pockets with bloodied dollar bills. This city was rotted to it's core, just like it's people, and it'd stay that way until it was burned to the ground.

Sans' eyelights drifted down to the book in front of him.

'Stuffed Plushies For Beginners!'

The title almost felt condescending, just like the colorful pictures and simple wording that decorated each page. He still couldn't help but twist his frown deeper at the fact that you bought him a children's book of all things, paired with that sharp little grin of yours and that infectious laugher. It had been too much.. Which is why he snatched the damn thing out of your hands when you gave it to him.

"To help decide what you want to do with your new skill! Maybe you can finally make something instead of just stitching scraps together you dork."

He would never turn down a challenge, especially from you, and he was eager to have your approval again.

"AND WHAT EXATLY SHOULD I SEW?"

"Just pick something you're interested in and sew it. They have a lot of animals in there! You do at least like one kind of animal, don't you?"

Dogs, because they were loyal.

Cats, because they could fend for themselves.

Birds, because of their freedom.

But making something based of them didn't quite appeal to Sans.

'Basic Plushie Pattern.'

...

"hey bro, i wanted to ask- oh my stars."

"AH-!" Sans inhaled, squeezing the doll in his grasp and nearly tearing at it with his claws. "YOU-! WOULD YOU KNOCK!?"

"you actually made a plushie of them. wow," his brother hummed, "and here i thought your obsession couldn't get any wo-"

WHOOMPH.

The pillow made direct contact with Papyrus' face, earning a laugh from the taller skeleton. Sans barked out a few more insults as his brother continued to giggle, admiring what he had finished so far.

It.. looked like crap.

Some of the stitches were lopsided and others weren't uniform, but he wanted to see this through before his frustrations got the better of him. So with some encouragement from Papyrus he kept at it, finishing the body and then attaching the head.

"Pahahaha! Captain!"

"WHAT!?"

"You! Ehehe! You-! Of.. of me!"

"LOOK, JUST TELL ME IT'S TERRIBLE SO I CAN BE RID OF THE ACURSED THING ALRIGHT?"

"No! No. Absolutely not! I'm keeping this forever and you can never take it away from me!"

He gritted his teeth and attempted to wrestle the doll from your grasp but to no avail. You hugged it close and refused to relent, calling it precious and a testament to his efforts.

All of his hard work..

To a doll..

That looked like you.

"Are you going to make one of you?" you asked, letting out a few breaths as he finally gave up trying to grab the doll from your grasp.

"AND WHY WOULD I DO THAT?"

"Well I don't want them to be lonely."

...

How could he... ever argue with that.

So begrudgingly he sewed again, this time now more aware than ever of that 'thing' as it worked meticulously to create a replicate of itself. The doll's left arm, sewn together with a deep gray metallic fabric, now shared the same shame he did.

...

Strangely enough, it suited him.

...

"They look cute together."

"ONE ON THE RIGHT HAS SEEN BETTER DAYS."

"I still think he's pretty cute. He's trying his best, after all."

Well.. he certainly couldn't argue with that either.

#look at that!#we made it!#cap's is a lil' more fluffier than the others so i hope you guys enjoy it!#captain!sans #sans #undertale #fellswap #fellswap sans #undertale fic #yandere sans #long post #fic #fanfiction #drabble #anxiety tw #depression tw #alch!writes #inbetween!fic

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savrenim · 3 years ago

Note

hi hi hi. so I just got into the Hamilton fandom, I swear I am four years late where did everybody go, and, well. I am apparently a hamburr shipper. bcs that is my life now. anyway I saw your fic ifmlam and I swear it is my favourite of all the fics I've ever read (and trust me I've read literally thousands). I love it so so much, how do you write fics like that??? I cried about four times during the whole thing, I stayed up till 4am reading it even when I had to wake up at 7 because it is just. that. good. I could not stop thinking about it for days afterwards and ifmlam has just ruined me. I can't think of listen to Hamilton without thinking of ifmlam anymore.

on to my qursttion: is it abandoned? of course it's perfectly FINE if it is. don't let anyone tell u differently, your fic is YOURS and u are amazing.

but pls I really need closure from ur fic, it has been haunting me if its abandoned or ongoing and I've read ur other fics and they are just chefskiss and thank you so much for writing them all. thank you thank you thank you, I will never be able to thank you enough for writing this fic and for everything it's done for me. I am probably thousands of miles away but I am sending you virtual jugs through a co.puter screen right now.

(don't feel pressured to reply to this or update it flam, I know how overwhelming it can get with so many messages and after a while u get desensitized to it. u can literally reply "thx. itfmlam is abandoned" and I would still be amazingly star struck. anyway has gotten way too long and I need to sleep and I'm sorry u probably won't see this so I'm just talking to myself right now but bye!!)

and thank you so so much for writing itfmlam.

aaaah hello anon!

thank you so so much???? I am so??? honored??? that ifmlam rates so highly to you, and also that you've read my other fics??????

the answer to the "is ifmlam abandoned" question is probably the worst possible one, which is pretty much "I do want to finish it, both for the folks that still want closure as well as it bothers to me have abandoned projects that are in the public eye/ already partially published, but also, it is last on my current writing projects list"

my current actually active writing projects list, kind of in order of priority, is

I'm literally three chapters away from being Actually Fully Done with the not-quite-first-not-quite-second let's call it 1.5th draft of an actual?? full?? original?? novel?? Opus which of course then goes out to beta readers and then gets who-knows-how-much edited and then maybe beta readers again if a lot does change and then a copyeditor my mom, my copyeditor is my mom, and maybe my little brother he's one of the betas but is very good at catching typos and then I!!! get to publish it!!!! which is the single thing I am most excited for!!!!!!!!! this should be closed up in the next week or two, and then take a while for people to actually read the draft and get back to me.

I really desperately want to finish my open-but-like-90%-written fic, which means we raise it up, the final chapter of to the bottom of the river bc I realized that it was kind of incomplete, and the second chapter of a buried and a burning flame because any more work there will need to wait until the author publishes the next book in the series. this should be closed up in the next month or two.

Speedwrite the draft of the second book of the Opus series so that hopefully by the time book 1 edits are happening, I have an almost complete draft of the second book. this is mostly me side-eyeing myself about taking nearly four years to write the first book, but that is solidly in part because I had so many other open projects which point 2 is about clearing that docket. this should be done in the next year.

And then just have my major projects be, at least until books 1-5 are written and published, books 1-5 of that because that is arguably the first major 'plot arc' of the series, so if I'm looking for a pause point on writing, that's probably where to stop.

There are two or three other short side projects (a weird fun second person short story tentatively titled witch-queen, a collection of four short stories Memoirs about a not-so-evil necromancer and the shenanigans he gets up to trying to rule a kingdom, working title Perfectly Normal Recipe Blog which is a collaborative project about a perfectly normal recipe blog that definitely doesn't include anything out of the normal) that will happen when they happen

There are other projects that are on the backburner -- The Numanok Files, a series of probably 12-15 short novellas about a mercenary/ bounty hunter esque person in space whose specialty is dealing with hauntings, but, like, 80% of their jobs is actually "you are effectively a space home inspector pointing out faulty wiring reacting to solar flares/ there's a weird alien fungus/ it's carbon monoxide okay change your atmosphere filters" and 20% of it is punching ghosts; there's a post-post apocalypse novel that I want to write that I know characters and general pacing and half the setting but need to work out the other half and figure out how much aesthetic I want to commit to; there's Strangeside7 aka spacerace book that is my reaction to how much I love how Redline the anime movie commits itself to "no we are about a race, like 60% of the screentime is just fully going to be an utterly ridiculous sci fi space race"; there's even a ridiculous YA trilogy that I would have to completely transplant the setting but might end up writing because the interplay between angel-physics and physics-physics was one of my favorite things in the world. and I guess the weird ridiculous technically a sequel series to ifmlam that was going to be published as original books that was basically me having fun with 'okay I fucking love star wars prequels old rotting space bureaucracy galactic republic style' except with seers and that also still might happen because it does have some of the coolest sci fi concepts and honestly I thiiiink that's all?

but the tl;dr of that timeline is I'm trying to finish a punch of projects Right Now, so that I can write books 2-5 of Opus, and then when I'm done that (which honestly, my average fiction-writing output is close to 100k a year. if I'm concentrating purely on one project, and writing books that are about 100k, we are talking four years. although my job situation is super up in the air in that period and writing might get put solidly on the backburner as I try to make it in academia, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯) I will re-evaluate which projects go next, and that's when ifmlam is likely to come up for review.

I do not have any expectations that I will make it as an original author. I'm planning on posting all of my stuff online for free, but, like. it is incredibly difficult to convince people to try out even a piece of free and easily accessibly original work even if one has a huge following, I am a very small fanfiction author, and from what I can tell the majority of the people who are interested in my work are mostly interested in me finishing ifmlam. writing is a hobby for me, and while I'm writing mostly for me--and hence the for me bit at least for the next five years is pretty solidly going to be this series that I am deeply excited about and have sunk my heart and soul into every single aspect of--I'm human, and I don't really like shouting into the void, and I expect if I spend five years publishing to absolutely no response I will either stop writing for a while and do other things gods know my life is busy enough, return to fandom in general to write some other fanfic about whatever I get deeply into, or return to a work that I actually get response to. so ifmlam will probably start getting worked on a bit at that point one way or another. unless, of course, we are in the incredibly rare timeline in which I do make it as an original author, there are people who are deeply hyped for my original works and an actual demand for them, in which case as you may have noticed there are enough ideas there to keep me busy for a decade or two, and they will just get my full attention instead of fanfiction*. in this timeline, I will do what I was considering doing a few years ago, which is officially declare ifmlam otherwise abandoned and make one more giant chapter update which is a full and cleaned up outline of what I was going to write, interspersed with the scenes already written, and have ifmlam be given at least that closure.

*I want to make it clear that I very much love fanfiction and am proud to have been a fanfiction author and in my heart of hearts would keep writing it forever, I just also have a lot of ideas for characters and settings and magic systems and Aesthetics and I have been biting at the bit to write something that is //mine// and all mine and only mine for a while, I don't see original work as superior so much as there are a dozen fandoms that I am currently in and bursting to make content about except oops these fandoms currently only exist in my head, and I want to correct that

of course given how much as writing is my vent activity and I write what I'm in the mood for, there's a chance I'll feel ifmlam cravings before then, just... expect it to take a couple of years for an update, but also for there to be an update one way of another in a couple of years? but as for right now, I'm turning to original writing, because that is what brings me joy.

but I am really deeply honored that it brought you so much joy!!! and while I will never publish spoilers in a public place, if you message me off anon I am perfectly happy to give a run-down of my current plans for the ending, bc I know "wait a couple years and see" is not the most satisfactory of answers! and hey maybe you'll be like me and once you've given Opus a try you'll decide you like it better too, it does have Seers although they are deeply different Seers than in ifmlam but imo it's very gay and fun and at least politics on one side

#my life #my writing #ifmlam

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live-long-and-time-warp · 4 years ago

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It’s hard to leave your toxic friends... but it’s so worth it

I don’t normally do this, but as I sat in a Saturday morning meeting thinking about all of the things I felt this past Friday, I felt compelled to share my story.

A brief background: throughout college and for several years afterward, I considered my tight-knit group of college friends as some of my closest. In addition to my best friend of 20 years, some friends from high school, my work team, and some other dear friends scattered across the globe and throughout the U.S., this group of college friends was who I considered to be my foundation. This group of friends was extremely important to me, but it was not without its bumps in the road.

In my senior year of college, I had a falling out with one of these friends, the ringleader I’ll call her. I say this because she is quite honestly the source of 95% of my problems with this group. She is a master manipulator, and an expert gaslighter. There were a few others that contributed to this too, but she was by far the worst.

I can’t elaborate on every single thing that this person said and did over our 7 year “friendship” but a brief summary would be: asking me point blank if I thought I might be a lesbian after coming out as bi (to this friend group and in her presence, I might add) only several months prior; asking me how much money I spend on books about “Chernobyl” every month with the implication that she’s concerned about my finances; telling me that my resume may not be as impressive as I think it is (I’m the deputy director of a nonprofit with both state-based and national projects and had been for close to a year prior to this conversation); would clean up the crumbs from in front of me while I was still eating and comment on my messiness; told me that one of our mutual friends doesn’t like discussing politics with me because I get too fired up (again, I work for a nonprofit that deals with social justice); telling me that crying while comforting my friend who had just lost a loved one to suicide after they began crying was weird and that I “stole her thunder” (we were slightly drunk, I’m an empath, and she was talking about some deeply personal things that moved me and crying was my natural response... and oddly, she was appreciative of my tears because I was “the only person that actually stayed with her”); and so much more that I know I’m forgetting.

There were many other things more insidious, including gaslighting me about my inclusion in several group activities and why it should have been obvious why one friend disliked me enough to not invite me to her wedding after years of claiming cluelessness.

In our senior year, I left that friend for the first time after she humiliated me at a party by commenting loudly and with condescension on my weight. When I cut ties with her, I felt as if I had just left an abusive relationship, and for a while I didn’t want to seek a friendship with her again.

But the other friends in our group still hung out with both of us, so eventually I allowed myself to be sucked back in.

In the years after we graduated, I thought that this person had actually changed- I worked abroad for a year after college, and after returning I saw a marked difference in her demeanor and how she interacted with us. She seemed more self-aware of how her words and actions adversely affected other people, and I thought that maybe the ugliness of that horrible portion of my senior year was now just a faded scar.

But then things escalated very quickly. Over the course of several weeks at the beginning of this year, I started to feel myself questioning whether I had made the right choice in rejoining the group: I was so sure of how I felt after I left it the first time, I felt so empowered and free. So why did I allow myself to rejoin them? Was it really the right choice?

I got my answer a week after the insurrection at the Capitol. One friend who already had a history of saying hateful things about women (which I tried to put a stop to to no avail) finally went full white supremacist asshole, and instead of joining me in calling his comments unacceptable and defending me as he mansplained my job to me, the ringleader criticized me and told me that “I can work in activism and politics and be wrong”.

That’s the moment I finally woke up.

I left the chat that very moment. Every time they added me back without my consent, I left again.

Every time I got message from the ringleader that was full of gaslighting comments and false apologies, I didn’t say a word. Just deleted the message. Finally, I was able to gather the strength needed to block those toxic friends from all social media and my phone. One of these friends was someone I tried to make like me for years after I was told that she hated me for no reason, by her own admission.

Some may not agree with this approach, but I made the choice to cut contact and go radio silent on my own after consulting my friends, specifically my best friend who had been there for me during the incident my senior year.

As weeks went by, some of the true friends from that group reached out, and then immediately backed off after my polite request for space, indicating that I was welcome back at any time and they were always here for me.

The ringleader chose the opposite approach. She continued to gaslight me, made a group chat with myself, the white supremacist, and herself. She sent me messages from her second account, one that I remembered to unfriend but forgot to block. She told me that if I don’t “course correct” by a certain date she would block me on my account (too late, bro) and that “we wish you all the best”. This implies that it was on behalf of the entire group, something I know three of them would never do. However, at this point, I have had to distance myself from all of those friends so as not to give the ringleader the attention she wants from me.

I lost over half of my closest friends over night. It felt like my skeleton had been torn from my body. I considered giving in several times and reaching out to them. But now, over a month later, I understand how necessary it was to excise what was essentially a malignant tumor. The Chernobyl researcher in me wants to compare it to Acute Radiation Syndrome (ARS): an unseen poison that slowly infiltrates every part of your mind and body and rots them from the inside out.

2020 was an extremely hard year for me, as it was for so many. I am so lucky and privileged to have been in the financial situation that I was and had the support of my genuine friends and family.

But it was still the worst year of my life. I have suffered from pretty bad OCD for most of my life, and while I usually keep it under control, last year it became nearly impossible to do so. I also fell very deeply into clinical depression, and worked to the point of burn out and exhaustion. The primary thoughts I had during this depression were:

“Why aren’t you working? You’re lazy.”

“You’re a failure, you’re 26 and haven’t applied to grad school yet.”

“You piece of shit, still living with your parents? What a disappointment.”

“What is wrong with you?”

It was unbearable. I’m honestly not entirely sure how I survived it, but I think a certain 3-year-old goddaughter of mine and a few close, real friends had something to do with it.

I worked very hard with my friends, a therapist, and a psychiatrist to overcome this depression and get my OCD back under control. Now, I feel like such a weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. I still have depression, and the OCD will always be with me (like a bad habit... literally?); but I am so much more happy with myself and my life, as I should be.

And I am very, very, very well aware that therapy was not the only reason I have recently begun feeling this way. It’s very hard to see that you’re being manipulated while it’s happening. Because of my trusting nature, sometimes manipulative comments would be interpreted as heartfelt guidance.

It wasn’t until I started the journey away from them that I saw just how much this group and their negativity (because even the best of them weren’t always the kindest) impacted my mental health.

The event that made me want to share this story is this: yesterday was a rough work day. As a full-time community organizer, I am pretty much burnt out all of the time. Breaks are taken, but with projects addressing issues from COVID relief to systemic racism and police brutality, it never feels like enough.

I had to officially take a step back as a sole lead on an annual event that I organized for two years, and it was gut-wrenching.

Now, I cry often, but I don’t usually get to have therapeutic cries. You know what I mean? Like, as you cry, all of the tension that built up in your body by negative feelings is finally being released with every breath and sob?

Well, the dam finally broke in a team meeting on Friday. I started sobbing and couldn’t stop. And my colleagues were so, so kind. They let me vent, they let me cry, they would not accept my apologies for crying. They told me that I was strong for setting up boundaries, and that they were here for me.

We spent a lot of time at the end of the meeting each talking about our self-care routines. And as I sit here typing this, I am actively trying not to cry at the purity of their support.

This experience has taught me what real friends are. Real friends do not put limitations on your emotions and fears.

Real friends do not give you deadlines for processing your feelings.

Real friends do not criticize you for things that, while they may not agree with, do not affect anyone’s health or marginalize anyone.

Real friends don’t marginalize vulnerable communities.

Real friends help and support you with constructive criticism (when it’s asked for) and love, not patronization and manipulation.

I thought I knew all of these things before, but I know now that I am still learning... and that that is perfectly okay. I don’t regret most of the times we shared together. I am appreciative of the positive memories that their friendships gave me.

Three of the friends in this group are actually good people, and maybe one day when the dust is settled I’ll reach out to them and establish one-on-one friendships with them (if they want to).

And I have to thank my real friends, including @tryingtobealwaystrying, for all saying the exact same thing: you deserve so much happiness and fuck all of those guys.

So, the point of this post is to tell everyone this: you can leave your toxic friends. It’s incredibly difficult, stressful, and honestly traumatizing. And there’s no shame in needing time or feeling unable to leave those friends now. There’s also no shame in returning to those friends.

But please know, from this nerd to the reader: anyone that makes you feel any less than the beautiful, amazing human being you are and doesn’t want to help you become an even better human on your own terms is not a true friend. They don’t deserve you or the light you can bring into their lives.

And every agonizing step away from those friends is a step closer to a happier, healthier life.

#toxic frienship #mental health #living with ocd #depression #storytime

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forestdivinity · 4 years ago

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the spirits of my past lives still follow me around

Dear Daddy

What are ghosts but people stuck out of time? What am I but a body stuck out of its grave?

You killed me, once, twice, a thousand times. How many minutes did I spend in that damn crypt? How many hours did you listen to me scream and scream and scream? You always were a sadist - and not even the fun kind!

Metaphor meet truth.

They make us write letters in rehab - why depends on the shrink of the day but all the ones I’ve met seem to think writing out your thoughts will make them more coherent. I haven’t been coherent since I was four years old, ear drums blown out from the screaming.

Hah, you believed me then! Before that, you thought I was as ordinary as Vanya. Worse even, because I wouldn’t stop crying. Least Vanya was quiet. Sure you hated her too, but least she rarely annoyed you. Not the way I did.

Sorry! I’m a chronic pain in the ass.

I’m not actually sorry.

I want you to know I’m not sorry about any of the fucking stuff I did to piss you off. Wish I’d done more. Wrapped my fingers around your throat and squeezed maybe - wonder if that would have killed you. You always seemed so untouchable, Dad. What’s a little more murder in the family, anyway?

Fuck you, fuck you. Why was I never enough?

You shoved me in with the dead, maybe you just wanted me to join them. Sounds like a you thing. Got a screaming, sobbing, unruly child you can’t be bothered to deal with? Well, have I got just the thing for them, a crash course in their worst fears, woo! Great fucking plan, Daddy! That’s ironic, Bee-Tee-DoubleU.

Wish you’d let me get into the medicine cabinet earlier. Not like I did anything to please you before that. I don’t think They ever realised.

Man, I miss drugs. Rehab is like a crash course in trauma. There’s always like one Screamer lurking where you least expect it, Dad.

Sometimes it’s me, you know. Sometimes I’m the screamer. Everyone is a fucking ghost here, I swear, we’re all stuck in this white walled little crypt, all dreaming of the same fucking pills. I’m like dreaming of ecstasy lately. I see those little babies every time I close my eyes, like they miss me too. Klaus, Klaus, Klaus, they call. Just like the ghosts.

Ever think I was destined to be this? If there're ghosts around and boys with tentacle portals in their stomachs, then maybe destiny exists too? Does god exist then?

Maybe I’m a just fucking psychotic Daddy! Maybe I burst my own ear drums just to get you to look at me, ever think about that? Wouldn’t that be disappointing? I was always a disappointment to you, should have just gone to that little grave early. It might have been pitiable then, not just pathetic.

I want heroin. I love her like a daughter, like a mother, like a wife. I always thought about being a wife, having a wife, but looks like it wasn’t in the plan, huh? Huh! It’s your fault! All of it!

I wish I’d never been born. Fucking miracle birth my ass.

Funny, I wanted to get deep in this, but you just make me so mad and I’m disastrously sober. You never liked me sober, didn’t like me high either. Then again, maybe you just hated kids. Weirdo.

I want the drugs now. I’m so tired and so angry. You ever feel like the walls are just closing in on you? Probably not, I doubt you’re claustrophobic. Honestly, you never seemed scared of anything, like you weren’t even human. Just some monocle wearing robot come to torment us all. Unfair comparison for robots really, Mom definitely tried her best.

I am an imploding star, Dad. Nothing you can do to change that - BEN!! STOP READING OVER MY SHOULDER!

I’ve been burning up since the day I was born.

Lovecraft wrote “and with stranger aeons, even death may die” - he was a racist, piece of shit bastard, but I’m waiting for it to come true. Maybe then I’d get some fucking peace. Wouldn’t that be fantastic?

All I ever wanted in life was peace, Dad! Why d'you have to go and leave me to the screaming. Sometimes I don’t know if I ever got free? What if this is all some strange fever dream, the last moments of an addled mind? What a nightmare to dream up as you die. Maybe I’m just in Hell - this life is certainly an eternal torture.

Seems too easy though, doesn’t it?

I bet the Devil is like, a cowboy. Everyone depicts him as some big, red, fork-tailed thing, but I think a cowboy would be funny. Unexpected. And you would hate it, which only makes it better, you know? Recently I’ve been asking myself “would Dad hate this?” and if the answer is yes, I do it. Wrote a whole ass soliloquy on cock a few weeks back. I was so fucking high. Thought I’d be the next Shakespeare or something.

Turns out I just waffled about dick cheese for three pages.

Eh.

You’d still hate it, so I count it as a win.

Daddy, I have officially lost the fucking plot of this letter. I blame Ben; he keeps trying to read over my shoulder, you should tell him to leave me alone. Not that he’d listen to you! Like any of us bar, Luther listened to you in the end. I think it would have been a better world if we’d all run away like Five, but alas, it was not the case.

What was even the point of this?

Oh yeah. I hate you. You fucked me up.You left me to rot and die in that crypt and I haven’t been alive ever since. It’s funny, you can go through life as a ghost and no one ever notices.

I hope one day, when you die, I get to piss on your ashes. It would be a fucking fitting end.

Fuck you.

Klaus Hargreeves.

The letter never gets sent. For three weeks and a day it sits in the bottom of his coat pocket until Klaus forgets he’d ever written it in the first place. He gets high, beautifully, soaringly high and uses the paper to roll joints when he runs out of skins.

A fitting end. Gone in the wind.

Klaus laughs when he realises, fingers itching for another hit. Time to move on. Not like it would have made a difference anyhow.

#tua #The Umbrella Academy #Umbrella Academy #klaus hargreeves #fic #fanfic #tua fic #writing #my writing #letter #to my father i solemnly declare

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jensengirl83 · 4 years ago

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What Is And What Should Never Be-Epilogue-The Wedding!

Dean x reader

Word count- 3214

Warnings-Tooth rotting fluff!!

A/N-SURPRISE!!! I had the idea for an epilogue and decided to surprise everyone. I hope you all enjoy it! Pic is not mine. It was gotten from google.

Y/n stood in their room looking at herself in the mirror. Her mind thinking back to everything that had happened to lead to this day. It has been a little over a year since the night Amara saved her and Dean’s relationship and their daughter was born. Chuck had not bothered them since and it was a big relief. They had been raising their daughter Neveah in relative peace. Of course, they had dealt with the normal dramas of the hunting life, but no more interference between them as a couple.

Y/n looks over to her daughter sitting in the floor on her favorite blanket. Her name had been one of the easiest decisions that they had made when it pertains to their little girl. Her name meaning of heaven and earth. With the situation of how she came to be, they felt her name was perfect. She was a spitting image of Dean. Dirty blonde hair hanging in curls, big green eyes, and freckles. Dean had said he wanted her to look like Y/n but that did not happen. He had gotten one wish of his though, her smile. Neveah had her mothers smile and that made Dean incredibly happy.

Neveah loved her mama but was a total daddy’s girl. She had Dean wrapped around her little finger from the first time he had laid eyes on her. Her first word even being Dada, which Dean has not let Y/n live down since that day. Her Uncle Sam is just as enamored with her. Between the two hunters, Neveah will never want for anything. If Dean is not spoiling her, her Uncle Sam definitely is. Cas is just as smitten with the tiny version of Dean, swearing to always be watching over her.

Y/n is pulled from her daydream to the sound of her daughter squealing with delight. She looks over to see Sam squatting to pick up Neveah, her little arms outstretched reaching for her uncle. The smile on both their faces has Y/n’s heart swelling with love and pride. Knowing there are so many people who loves her baby girl and will always be there to protect her makes a tear slip out and roll down her cheek.

“Ok Y/n we can’t have any of that. You will ruin your makeup.” Sam says with a smile as he pulls her in for a side hug. Neveah has his other arm currently filled.

“I know Sam. It just makes me happy to know Neveah has so many people that love her.” Y/n smiles up at her soon to be brother-in-law.

“The same people love you too Y/n. You look beautiful by the way. You are going to knock Dean on his ass.” Sam says.

Y/n turns to look back in the mirror. Her hair is swept up in an elegant updo. Baby’s breath expertly placed throughout. Her makeup is a done a little more than her normal natural look but not too heavy. Her eyes in neutral earth tones, her cheeks a soft pink, lips stained a soft burgundy. Her dress was a beautiful sweetheart neckline, fitting to her body down to her waist and then flaring out in what you could only describe as a Cinderella type way. The bodice was adorned in sequins and pearls and the skirt a flow of satin to the floor.

It was finally their wedding day. They had been planning for a long time but agreed to wait until Neveah was able to walk and could participate in the ceremony. The wedding was being held in a big clearing in the woods right behind the bunker. Dean, Sam, Cas, Jody, and Donna had been out there decorating for days. They had refused to let Y/n help saying they wanted her to be surprised. Now here it was, time to walk out with Sam, to join herself with the love of her life.

“You ready to go Y/n?” Sam asks her as he hold out his arm for her.

“I have been ready for this for a long time Sam.” Y/n says linking her arm through Sam’s, wanting to get outside and see Dean.

“What about you beautiful? You ready to watch mommy and daddy get married?” Sam asks Neveah who is a squirming ball of energy in his arms. She squeals and giggles, causing Y/n and Sam to break out in giggles of their own.

“That seems to be a yes.” Sam says laughing.

Sam and Y/n make their way out of the bunker and on the path to the clearing. Y/n is in awe as she walks, the path has been lined with white lights around the trees, twinkling in the fading light of the day. Y/n had always wanted an evening wedding and Dean said that is what she would get. Even telling her not to worry about it being outside that he would take care of it. Now she understands what he meant. Waiting at the end of the path before it opens to the clearing is Jody. She is all smiles as you make your way to her.

“Y/n you look absolutely stunning!” She says as she gives you a hug, being careful not to mess up your hair or dress.

“Thank you, Jody. How is he?” You ask wondering how Dean is holding up.

“He is doing ok. Better than I thought honestly. He kept asking why time was moving so slow.” Jody says laughing at the image of Dean in her head.

“Well let’s get this going.” Sam says looking down at you. Is he tearing up?

Jody takes Neveah from Sam. She holds her little hand helping her walk down the aisle throwing the flower petals the best she can. Y/n can hear the voice of her soon to be husband as he encourages their daughter to walk to him. Dean had insisted on holding her through the ceremony, wanting her to be in his arms as he marries his best friend. Sam squeezes her hand letting her know that is was time. Y/n takes a deep breath as she steps out from behind the trees. Her eyes meeting Dean’s as soon as he was in her view.

Dean is breathless. He had always thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, but today as she walks towards him to become his wife, she has never been more beautiful. He is not able to hold back the tears as they slowly trail down his cheeks. He had never dreamt that he could have all this. Now he is standing in the woods, his daughter in his arms, Y/n going to be his wife. He smiles as he silently sends a thank you to Amara, never able to fully articulate how grateful he truly is.

Sam and Y/n have finally made their way down the aisle and to the altar. Sam squeezes her hand before he places it in Dean’s, bending to kiss the top of her head. He looks to his brother and smiles, putting his hand on his shoulder. Dean smiles and nods, neither needing to speak to know what the other is trying to say. With their hands intertwined, Dean and Y/n turn to face the altar. Cas is standing there with a wide smile on his face, having agreed to officiate.

“We are here today as family and friends to join in the celebration of these two people joining their lives together for the rest of eternity. They have chosen to write their own vows to each other.” Cas says as he looks to Dean letting him know he can speak.

“Y/n, I make this solemn promise to you: To be your lover when you need to be loved ,your doctor when you are ill ,your army when you go to war, your umbrella when life rains down on you, your rock when you get weary, your shield when you need defense, your spirit when you are drained, your pillow when you need to rest, your voice when no one can hear you, your ear when no one will listen, your comfort when you feel pain, your hero when you are under duress, your sunshine when darkness falls, your answer when questions arise, your inspiration to overcome obstacles, your hand to hold when you are frightened, your kiss that wakes you every day ,and your "I love you" each and every night. I am yours Y/n. With your hand in mine, I can do anything. And I promise to hold your hand while we conquer this world together. I love you sweetheart.” Dean is barely able to get out his words. His eyes brimming with tears of joy.

“I’m not sure how I am supposed to follow that!” Y/n says everyone laughing. She smiles at Dean hoping her vows will do justice to how she feels for this amazing man.

“Because of you Dean, I laugh, I smile, and I dare to dream more than I ever have. Thank you for the miracle of you. You are, and always will be, the love of my life, my soulmate, my person. I have seen your kindness and your strength. I have seen you patient and frayed. I will strive to not take you for granted. You are my favorite person, and I choose you to be my partner in life. I vow to take you as my husband, my heart forever yours. I see these vows not as promises but as privileges: I get to laugh with you and cry with you, care for you and share with you. I get to run with you and walk with you, build with you, and live with you. I choose you to be no other than yourself, loving what I know of you, and trusting who you will become. I will respect and honor you always and in all ways. With you, I pledge to repair one small piece of the world. I take you to be my spouse, to have and to hold, in tears and in laughter, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, from this day forward, in this world and the next.” Dean reaches to cup her cheek in his hand as she finishes her vows, her words making him fall even more in love with her than he thought possible.

“Those were beautiful words. Now, Dean would you please repeat after me.” Cas says smiling at the couple. “I, Dean, take you, Y/n, for my lawful wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part.” Dean repeats Cas’ words, sliding the silver wedding band on her finger.

“Ok Y/n, please repeat after me. I, Y/n, take you, Dean, for my lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part.” Y/n repeats the words, her hand shaking from emotions as she slides the band on Dean’s finger.

“Live for your love and your love will live forever. May all the beautiful gifts that come with the promises of a long loving marriage bring never-ending happiness to you both. I now pronounce you a loving, caring couple in love as Husband and Wife. You may, once again, kiss your bride.” Cas says with a hand one each one of their shoulders.

Dean leans in, her cheek still cupped is his free hand, to place his lips to hers. The kiss soft, slow, and gentle. The two of them putting the love for each other into it. Dean reluctantly pulls away, placing a soft kiss to her forehead. He has never been as happy as his right now, the only other day being the day his daughter was born.

“It is my pleasure to introduce to you Mr. and Mrs. Dean Winchester!” Cas exclaims as the claps and shouts fill the air from their family and friends.

With his wife’s hand in his and his daughter in his arm, Dean makes his way back down the aisle. The both of them with the brightest smiles on their faces. They were too wrapped up in each other to notice the tears that are making their way down Sam’s face. His brother and his best friend genuinely happy, bringing him so much happiness. Y/n and Dean now hidden behind the trees; he stops her to pull her to his chest.

“You are so beautiful sweetheart! I had to tell you that before we go back to the bunker for the reception.” Dean says kissing her sweetly.

“You don’t look so bad yourself Winchester.” Y/n says with a laugh.

“Glad you think so, always here to please.” He says with that signature smirk of his.

“I have you locked down now. Your pleasing days are over unless it is me!” Y/n giggles.

“Only you forever and always baby.” Dean says as he winks at her, giving her another kiss before they make their way back to the bunker.

The bunker had been decorated with fairy lights and satin ribbons everywhere. Sam, Jody, and Donna had outdone themselves. The library had been turned into a small reception hall, Dean and Y/n at the head of the table now close to the wall to make room for dancing. Everyone is talking and laughing until the sound of Sam’s voice gets their attention.

“Now I know my role in this wedding. The best man is kind of like the dead body at a funeral. I’m expected to be here, but if I talk too much people will start to freak out. So, I’ll keep this short.” Everyone begins to laugh.

“Where do I start with Dean? He is handsome, charming, witty, intelligent and, uh...Dean I can’t read your handwriting, so I am just going to wing it. You are so lucky man, after today you get a new kind, caring, loving bride, and Y/n, you’re lucky too! After today you get a new...dress. So congratulations to you both. I have watched these two fall in love, and they made it look so easy. They say you don’t marry someone just because you can live with them. You marry someone that you can’t live without. Watching them fall in love sums that up perfectly. While I’m finishing up, Y/n and Dean, will you look into each other’s eyes? You are now looking into the eyes of the person most statistically likely to murder you. I wish both of you a happy marriage. To the bride and groom everybody!” Everyone is laughing at his speech as Sam takes his seat. Leave it to Sam to try and be funny.

“It’s time for Dean and Y/n to share their first dance as husband and wife. You guys get up here why dontcha?” Donna says as everyone clears the floor to make room for the couple.

They had chosen Thank You by Led Zeppelin for their wedding song. Dean wanting classic rock in there somewhere of course. They make their way to the middle of the room, Dean spinning Y/n in a circle to pull her back to his chest. She wraps her arms around his neck as his slide down to her waist. The beginning notes of the song filling the room.

If the sun refused to shine

I would still be loving you

When mountains crumble to the sea

There will still be you and me

Kind woman, I give you my all

Kind woman, nothing more

Dean is singing the words in her ear as me moves her around the floor. Her head resting on his chest, his hand rubbing up and down her back. The two of them lost in their own little world.

My love is strong, with you there is no wrong

Together we shall go until we die

My, my, my inspiration is what you are to me

Inspiration look, see

Y/n looks around the room as they sway to the music. Her daughter in Sam’s arms, Neveah squealing and laughing as she watches her parents move around the room. Cas, Jody and Donna all smiles at the happy couple.

And so today, my world it smiles

Your hand in mine, we walk the miles

Thanks to you it will be done

For you to me are the only one

Happiness, no more be sad

Happiness, I'm glad

Dean has his head resting on top of hers as he is still softly singing to her. He could have never imagined how perfect this day would be. The love of his life in his arms, finally his wife, his whole world now complete. His little girl happy and healthy in his brother’s arms, has Dean thinking. He pulls back and puts his finger under Y/n’s chin, lifting her face so he can look in her eyes as the lost notes of the song drifts away in the background.

“Have I told you how much I love you?” He asks her as they still stand in each other’s arms.

“Not in the last ten minutes.” Y/n says with a smile.

“I guess I am slacking then huh?” He says with a laugh.

“Maybe a little.” Y/n giggles her nose scrunching in the most adorable way.

“Have another baby with me Y/n.” Dean says looking her in the eye. All joking now gone from his expression.

“Are you serious?” Y/n asks shocked. She was not expecting this.

“I’m serious Y/n. I look at Neveah and see how happy she is. I think she would be even happier with a little brother or sister. I want a family with you sweetheart. If you don’t want anymore babies then I will be fine with just having Neveah, but I would love to have more kids running around here.” Dean holds his breath waiting on her to reply. He loves Neveah more than his own life and will be happy if it is just her, but he really wants more kids with Y/n.

“It would be nice to give her a sibling to grow up with.” Y/n says with a wink.

“Is that a yes?” Dean asks with excitement. He can’t wait to have another baby, and the trying is going to be extremely enjoyable.

“It’s a yes Dean.” His lips are on hers as soon as she speaks the words.

“What’s with the shit eating grin Dean?” Sam asks as they walk back towards their family and friends.

“We are going to try for another baby!” Dean shouts as everyone in the room begins to cheer.

Everyone rushes them to share hugs and congratulations. Neveah reaches out for her daddy, Dean taking her in his arms. Y/n smiles up at her now husband and daughter. If someone would have told her two years go that she would be standing here in the bunker, married to Dean with a beautiful little girl, she would have laughed at them and said they were crazy. Here she stands with everything she could have ever wanted and getting ready to add another member to the mix. What they thought was never going to be, is now what is and will always be.

Tags: @flamencodiva @sorenmarie87 @foxyjwls007 @waywardbeanie @emoryhemsworth @voltage-my2dlove @hardcoresupernatural @marvelouslysherlockedhunter @lyarr24 @deanmonandnegansbitch @akshi8278 @midsummereve1993 @sutton2001 @emory91

#dean x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural family #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #spn famdom #spn family #reader insert

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birdwonder · 5 years ago

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Not sure if you’ll allow this or not but I’ll try. Before Christmas is over and I’m officially late. How about Josuke, Kakyoin and senku (see? Since it’s from more than one fandom dunno if it’s alright) where their friend is working on Christmas decorations and suddenly picks them up and when they ask “what are you doing” they just respond with “putting the star on the Christmas tree.” (If the multiple fandom thing messes with the master list you can drop senku :3)

|| you, my friend, have saved me in the way the way that because i dont have time to write a christmas special - i answered your’s before the day ended to be one instead ! and also because i wanted to write smth for Kakyoin and Senku but didn’t have the ideas :D i dont mind doing multifandom requests ! though im going to put Senku in my next post, separately so i hope that’s ok ! this took a whole day to write since its Christmas so i’ve been busy so i hope the poor quality isn’t too bad ! [ btw theyre all sort of romantic to some extent ? i hope thats ok ! ]

Josuke + Kakyoin | Christmas Tree Decorating

Noriaki Kakyoin

“Oh honey, could you pass me the red bauble please?”

When the words reached his ears, Kakyoin raised his head from the box he was shuffling through and nodded in response to the request his wife had made. “No problem,” he curtly said, picking up the aforementioned decoration and standing up to hand it over to the shorter lover, smiling when you gave him your own grin.

Decorating the Christmas tree was a special tradition between the two of you since it gave a sense of family within your home and allowed you to bond both in silence and verbally whenever one of you made a silly comment or cracked a small joke.

Nimble fingers carefully took the fragile ball and hooked it’s string onto the evergreen’s branch, it’s evergreen aspect coming from the fact it was artificial, something Kakyoin and you decided would be the best choice financially and it would make things infinitely more convenient than going out every year to try and fit a large tree into a car. As you pulled away from the tree, arms wrapped around your torso and the red headed man rested his chin upon your shoulder, humming in content at the hard work you two poured into turning the once plain tree into a true Christmas living room centre piece.

“It’s just perfect, you did so well,” Kakyoin praised, turning his face a little to press a kiss upon your cheek to further his compliment. You then turned your own head turned to the side to kiss Kakyoin fully, tired fingers stroking over his pale cheek that was accustomed to your gentle affections and welcoming touch.

“Hush you, you did as much as me! I would still be working on this thing if I didn’t have my wonderful husband to help me.” You exalterd, removeing your hand from him by dragging your fingertips from his cheek down to his jaw, moving your body away from his so that you could place your hands on your hips in a determined manner. You then added, “we’re not done yet, though!”

“What do you mean?” Kakyoin tilted his head to the side, looking the tree up and down to attempt to understand. Baubles? Check. Tinsel? Check. Lights? Check. There wasn’t a single free space for anything more on the tree so he was struggling to see what else you could want really.

“Kakyoin don’t you see?” You jokingly scolded, pointing upwards, “we haven’t added the star yet!”

The ex-Crusader made an ‘o’ shape with his mouth, almost slapping a hand over his face over his mistake. The star! How could he forget? It was only the most satisfying thing to add to the tree, especially when you both spent hours a couple of years ago choosing the perfect one. You both had almost settled on angel instead because choosing a star was strangely difficult, though you both realised that a winged person would take even longer to pick.

“Of course! Sorry about that,” he chuckled, albeit a little nervously due to his mistake, “let me put it up then.” With that, he swooped down to pick you up into his arms, arms around the back of your knees and the side of his face resting against your stomach until he look up to see your face with a mixed expression of shock and confusion.

“Honey, what are you doing?” You gasped, momentarily worried that you would fall back against the tree until you realised that Kakyoin was both too strong and reliable for that. Still, you were perplexed as to why he had picked you up.

“Well, you are my star, so it’s fitting if we put you up there.”

Kakyoin gave you the sweetest look, eyes soft with love while you stared back with wide eyes and heart skipping a beat. “Noriaki... You’re so lame.~”

Your husband then gasped at that, letting you down and mocking a look of hurt. “How could you? After I gave you all my love in one sentence!” His uncharacteristic offence over your words made you giggle and led you to give him a sweet kiss, which quickly made up for your insult.

“Come on you big cherry baby, we got a star to put up.”

“‘Big cherry baby’ ? Really?”

“You know it!”

Josuke Higashikata

It was your duty to decorate the school’s christmas tree this year, and luckily for you it wasn’t all that large either so a one man job was not impossible or too straining. You had even finished most of the tree by now, carefully plotting where to place the baubles so they were evenly spaced and wrapping around lights to make the whole thing stand out was much easier than one would have thought. The emotional reward was amazing too, knowing that you had taken up a job everyone else complained about it and refused was pretty gratifying.

Taking a step back from the tree, you admired your handy work. None of the lights were turned on but even so the tree looked immaculate! You had even hand made a couple of decorations with the help of Koichi and Rohan before hand to add to your own trees at home, so you used the spares to add a fresh look on the school’s old, reusable tree that apparently always looked the same according to the older years. Honestly if you weren’t commended publicly in the next school assembly, you would have to complain. Well, you wouldn’t because that would be pompous and bit too much effort, but you knew you deserved at least some praise from the staff who should really be the ones doing all the work.

Still, there was something off about the tree, as though you had forgotten something...

Ah, the star!

How could you forget the most important and noticeable thing of all? You knocked your knuckles onto the top of your head for being so mindless before moving over to a couple of boxes, rummaging through a few until you found the gold painted star, the sides perfectly coated with silver glitter to make the whole thing pop. “There we go, now if I’m not mistaken you belong up there, Mr Star,” you giggle, mumbling to yourself in the most dorkiest way that you were glad no one was in the immediate vicinity to overhear you.

The tree may not have been colossal however it wasn’t easy to reach the top, so a teacher had given you a stool to stand upon when need be, not that you trusted it to support you whole heartedly. Stepping onto the stool, you balanced on your tiptoes to help you lean up and place the star on the top of the tree, something that was proving to be more difficult than you had expected. “Just a little further,” you urged yourself on, trying your best to reach.

You really should have expected that things were going too perfectly as a sudden crack was heard, and if you had to guess, it was from the leg of the stool.

Sucking in a harsh breath, you felt the weight of both you and the stool give out, sending you falling backwards with the star hugged close to your chest to keep it from breaking. Your priorities really weren’t in order.

As all good stories go, the pain of your back hitting the floor had never came and instead you felt firm yet comfortable arms wrap around your body. Your eyes were squeezed shut from fear of the impact, your lids remaining closed even when your were caught as a part of you assumed you just hadn’t hit the ground yet, even though the fall wasn’t nearly as long as you made it out to be in your head. You only finally opened your eyes when you heard a warm, friendly voice say, “hey, you know I caught you right? You can open your eyes!”

You peaked from under your eye lids to see the familiar face of Josuke, a wide grin on his face like he was proud that he had caught you just in the nick of time, and his whole face was lit up like a Christmas tree. Speaking of actually.

“Ah, thank you so much Josuke!” You hugged him as best as you could while being held in a bridal style and holding onto the star, pressing your cheek against his to which his own turned pink slightly, a laugh escaping him. It really was a good thing he had caught you or else who knows what could have happened? If the star broke the school staff would sure be against you.

“It’s no problem, I’m glad I came to see how you were doing now! Guess you could say I’m your knight in shining armour,” Josuke teased, making you laugh along with him. It was clear that no matter what, he really had a gift for making you ten times happier than before. “I guess I can,” you responded, looking over to the now broken and fallen stool, trailing your eyes up to the top of the tree and groaning. “That’s just great, there’s no way I can put the star up now!”

Your distressed tone made Josuke frown a little. He didn’t really see why it would be such a big deal, especially when it was the staff’s fault for giving you a stool with rotting wood legs and it wasn’t like it should be your job to decorate the tree. Lazy bastards.

Then, he had an idea. He placed you down onto the floor to which you thanked him for until you yelped out in surprise. With a mischievous sounding chuckle, Josuke’s hands grabbed your hips from behind and he squatted down. You turned your head to give him a questioning look and only got a wink in return, your body suddenly being hoisted up up so that you were sitting on Josuke’s shoulders, a leg on either side of his head. “J-Josuke! What are you doing?!”

“Huh? Isn’t it obvious [F/N]? I’m helping you put the star up on the tree,” he replied, his words coming out much smoother than they usually did, almost as though he was flirting with you. You flustered a little at the thought though you were unsure why, he was just helping you out! It wasn’t like he was insinuating anything or even praising you after all.

Once again, you meekly thanked him and gripped the base of the star, slotting the hole underneath it onto the top spike of the pine tree with caution, praying that nothing broke or that you made him uncomfortable by having to lean forwards. “There! The job is done and I don’t have to spend a second longer on this tree,” you proudly declared, expecting some sort of congratulations from the highschooler beneath you. After a long pause, you spoke again, “uh, you can put me down now Josuke.”

“Hm? Oh sorry, I thought we weren’t done yet, since y’know, you’re the star here.” He said, his flirty tone returning with a hint of comedy in it, probably because he couldn’t even take himself seriously in the currenr situation.

You almost choked at his words, heat rushing to your cheeks and you whacked the pompadour that blocked your ability to see his face. “Josuke, that was so cheesy! Just put me down already and help me clean up!”

“Ok, ok, whatever you say lil’ star,” he teased, crouching down to let you jump off his shoulders and giving you a side hug afterwards. “You have to admit though, that was pretty smooth.”

Rolling your eyes, you nudged him with a smile before pushing him away towards the pile of empty boxes that once hosted the large amount of decorations you used, “yeah sure, whatever you say Casanova, let’s just get to work.”

#kakyoin #kakyoin x reader #josuke higashikata #josuke x reader #jjba x reader #request #i am not satisfied with the quality of this at all im sorry

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trashbinbackyard · 4 years ago

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basics and environment for gilly and ipes

gals... one wholesome, one not so much

Basics:

1. What is their gender?

Female

2. What is their sexuality?

Panromantic demisexual

Bisexual demiromantic

3. What is the meaning behind their name? Do they have any nicknames?

Gesiye Ikande, goes by Gilly a lot. Gesiye means genuine in Ijaw (ethnic group in Nigeria)

Her real name is Nayla Hahn Nayla being Arabic origin and Hahn Korean (her moms’ backgrounds) Though at this point no one knows her real name as she goes by Ipes which is a different spelling for a demon Ipos

4. Do they have any siblings? How many? Are they older or younger? Which sibling are they the closest with?

She has two younger sisters. She’s pretty close with both of them, but they live on earth so she sees them rarely

No siblings

5. What’s their relationship with their parents like? What about other relatives?

She loves them but being the oldest sister she also kinda fell into that third parent role. She has a pretty big family as her parents also have multiple siblings, they spend holidays all together

She got emancipated at the age of 15 due to her parents not being able to care for her and she refused to enter any kind of foster system. She hasn’t talked to them since, assumes they’re dead

6. What would they give their life for?

Her family for sure

Honestly, nothing. No one comes even near being worth dying for. Neither is her business. If it ever came to it, she’d rather rot in prison than die for it

7. Are they in a romantic relationship? With who? How did they meet?

Mallory, met her at work. She wanted to wait to become more than just an investigator intern before starting anything but she’s smart and now she’s a fully fledged investigator

No, she has a strict no dating or banging your employees policy and since all the people she has respect for so far are her employees, there’s no one available. Also, she thinks pretty highly of herself so it’s gonna take work for someone be on the level she sees appropriate. (i myself am kinda curious where tf she and kenjiro are gonna end up)

8. What do they believe will happen to them after they die? Does this belief scare them?

She’s not religious, but does believe in some sort of good/bad place, she doesn’t really let it control her life and she tries to be good for the sake of being good (also, being mean is not nice)

No. And since she doesn’t fear life after death she feels free to do whatever the hell she likes

9. What is their favorite color? Favorite animal?

Purple. Any type of antelope, she thinks they’re neat

Black, surprise, but also really likes neon lights (you can guess what type of lights there are in her club). She likes snakes, especially black mambas

10. What are some of their talents/skills?

She’s very resourceful, quick thinking and good writer (of reports at least)

She knows how to read and push people, very conniving, and a great actor

11. If they could make a mark on history, what would they like it to be?

Idk, she’s just happy to be here

Woman has a drug empire right under law enforcement’s noses

12. How old are they? When is their birthday?

24-29 depending if time is pre-mallory vs relationship

35 (and both for them i really hate coming up with specific dates)

13. What do they do for fun?

Read, swim, enjoy coffee, cuddle with Mallory, watch animal videos

Gamble (she’s cheating), drink, have long ass baths, patrolling her club is work but she enjoys that part of her work a lot

14. What is their favorite food? How often do they get to eat it?

Something very spicy, veggies, she’s not a huge meat-eater

Due to her past drug abuse, most foods make her nauseous, so her fave is something light like fish

15. What was something their parents taught them?

Be kind and respectful, know your worth and do the dishes

Everyone is own their own

16. Are they religious?

No, spiritual, kinda

17. Where were they born?

Nigeria

Outer rim

18. What languages can they speak? Where did they learn these languages?

English and trade

Trade, whatever is the second biggest language on outer rim

19. What is their occupation?

Private investigator

Night club owner (that’s the side hustle to her drug business)

20. Do they have any titles? How did they earn them?

P.I, lots of school and getting a good internship

Word on the street is that she runs the biggest drug ring this side of rim, not officially though. Hard work and lots of blackmailing

Environment:

61. Which season is their favorite season?

Spring, lots of green, but not yet unbearably hot

Whenever her money comes in

62. Have they ever been betrayed? How did it affect their ability to trust others?

No, doubt she ever will, the bounty hunter (at least the citadel ones) are good people

Since birth honestly, whatever trust she had for her parents wilted away and now she won’t trust anyone unless they’ve proven themselves time and time again

63. What is always guaranteed to make them smile?

Animals, friends, the outdoors, she’s simple, just living the good life

Money, getting what she wants

64. Do they get cold easily? Do they get overheated easily?

She get cold more easily than too hot

Thanks to her metal leg all drastic changes in temperature are felt almost immediately

65. What’s their immune system like? Do they get sick often? How do they react to getting sick?

She’s got a pretty strong immune system. Doesn’t get sick that much

It’s pretty weak. She often gets flu when it’s the season

66. Where do they live? Do they like it there?

She lives in the citadel, has nice apartment there, she likes it lot

She has carved herself a place on the outer rim, it wasn’t exactly her dream but at this point there’s no place she’d rather be, has multiple apartments scattered around but her main one is on the top floor of her nightclub

67. Is their bedroom messy? What about their bathroom? Kitchen? Living room?

It’s somewhat messy, coffee cups and plates here and there, papers and journals scattered about, the whole house is like that

It’s super neat, she looks after herself. Her suite doesn’t even have a kitchen because she gets her food from the club kitchen

68. How did their environment growing up affect their personality?

Her parents influenced her a lot, she turned out good

Coming from two addicts, becoming one herself and generally being distrustful...

69. How did the people in their environment growing up affect their personality?

Wait i thought the previous one was the same question abbgöreghaeh

70. How do they feel about animals? Do they have any pets?

Love them! No time for one tho, if she had it’s be a cat

On that note.. I think she has a pet snake in her suite, its got a huge terrarium for it

71. How are they with children? Do they have any? Do they want any?

Love them, she’s good with them, she’s definitely the fun big cousin for her small relatives. Doesn’t have any but might want one? She feels she’s too young still

She doesn’t hate them but would rather no kids see her, ever. Doesn’t have any, doesn’t want any

72. Would they rather have stability or comfort?

i mean.... with stability comes comfort. But she’d choose comfort

Stability, life is already one big uncomfort for her to begin with

73. Do they prefer the indoors or outdoors?

Outdoors

Indoors

74. What weather is their favorite? Do they like storms?

Sunny for sure, storms are nice when you’re inside and in a secure place

Loves rain and storms, they also make ppl gather inside more

75. If given a blank piece of paper, a pencil, and nothing to do, what would happen?

She’d doodle, they’re not great but i’m Mallory would love whatever she’d draw

If something, she’d draw a middle finger for investigators to find

76. How organized are they?

She keeps her work very neat and packed, everything else, not so much

Very much so, everything is neat and organized and hidden away, that’s key to getting away with doing what she does

77. What is their most prized possession?

Her badge, or a stuffed animal from her home

A single memory card contains mountains of excel sheets, it’s either always on the move and hidden or locked away, never in the same place for longer than a week

78. Who do they consider to be their best friend?

Mallory, she’s sappy like that

Juicebox comes the closest

79. What is their economic situation?

She’s comfortable, not super rich but not going from paycheck to paycheck either

Oh she’s loaded

80. Are they a morning person or a night owl?

Night owl

All the best stuff happens at night in her opinion

#my mom called in the middle of writing this and that took extra 20 mins safohghaeuhb #ipes has a pet snake and it's only slightly disturbing when she feeds it live mice #though from what i know snakes dont need to eat that much they can go for long without a big meal #it's a spoiled little noodle for sure

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migleefulmoments · 5 years ago

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awesome-fanfictionada * tumblr * com / post / 615676095589728256 so anon ask how it's possible that no one's ever let the cat out of the bag this entire time (not to mention no one's ever captured a surreptitious pic of C/D together) and the answer is a rambling response filled with fake rumors and inane talk about smiling at each other. basically, there is no answer for how darren's "incompetent" team has kept a lid on this secret for nearly a decade. cuz they haven't. cuz it's all bullshit.

The first thing to keep in mind is that awesome is a newbie- she popped up in January 2020. Everything she knows is from "researching” the ccers favorite gifs and answers Abby and co gave to their nonnies in the last few years. She was trolling through the cc masterposts but most of them are long gone so she basically learned through their favorite gif playlist-if you put all the gifs together and took away the slow-mo feature it was probably a total of 4 minutes or less of Chris and Darren’s lives and all of it was from the Glee set or during promo for the show.

I wrote my comments after her post:

Anonymous asked:

So, we're 8-9 years? into this whole situation. I want to know how no one has ever let something slip about the truth. There's a lot of pieces in motion...PR houses, SM, appearances with beards, them being together (physically in the same place, like living together) without public knowledge. There's also a lot of people that would have knowledge of the situation. And some of them are not that bright or discreet. It's an incredible amount of time to maintain all of this.

Dear Anon, I’m not sure about the tone of your ask and if you want me to convert you or reassure you? However, I’ll just comment on the things you say. It’s not correct that no one has ever let anything slip about them, there have been in the past people who (2) tweeted about them as a couple just to dleete the tweet shortly after. Not always, some tweets are there still. (3)There have been IG posts and radio interviews with the voice of one of them in the background when there was supposed to be no official interaction. There have been other let’s call them (4)“clues” - even if they weren’t meant to be such. (5) It’s been many years, yes, and with the years comes the ease and the routine, everybody is aware of the situation, teams know what they have to do to keep it going (though sometimes they also slip up, some more than others). With the years the startling suspicion that they might be indeed a couple subsides and nobody cares about it anymore (but us), no one goes out to investigate because why should they? (6)Who cares about D marrying to hide the fact that he’s gay? He’s not the first nor the last to do it. (7) And he’s not that famous that people will want to know at all costs or have tabloids to pay for the scoop. (8) No, it is still his team that needs to pay to get articles out (talking about M mostly). And based on the comments they get on such articles, D’s secret seems to be an open one. Why would anyone tell about them? In HW everyone knows everything about everybody but they seldom tell cause they are all in it together - so who should tell and whom to? (9) Besides - there are plenty of couples in HW and around HW who are pretty secretive about their relationships and have been for years without anyone finding out anything they did not want exposed. Some couples are never seen together anywhere but are known to be married because they have at some point or another confirmed their relationship. (11) It is a long time to maintain this but if the parties involved are fine with the outcome (I doubt D and C are now, but for argument’s sake) nothing will get in the way to disturb the situation.

Do you want me to confirm to you that they actually live together? I cannot. That they have been together all the time? I cannot. (12) But look at them interact at the G/lee reunion and tell me honestly that there isn’t anything going on between them - they have been looking at each other that way for almost 10 years now. Have they at any time looked at their official SO in the same way? They make each other smile and laugh, that counts for very much in a relationship.

Yes, I started on 2...ignore there is no 1.

2. She mentions the Tweets that were soon deleted- this is one of my favorite arguments because it’s the most pathetic proof and proves just how easy it is to con a tinhat. Faking a Tweet has been easy for many years and anyone with photoshop skills could do it from day one. Tweets that showed up, then quickly disappeared but luckily ONE person managed to get a screencap? Riiigggghhhhttttttt. We also know that a couple of those famous disappearing Tweets were never real but were written about as part of the “news” post that GleekinthePink mistook for real but was later proven to be fanfiction.

3. The videos where they hear the voice of the other -usually in a laugh- aren’t “proof” of a relationship. First of all, the obvious, we don’t know who it is since they are off-camera and the person on camera never makes a face of surprise like I would expect if the other outed them. It also makes no sense to imagine that Darren married Mia to protect the secrets but they took a risk by having the other in the room during a live or while shooting a video they posted to social media. I can’t imagine taking a chance like that on something as stupid as a promo Livestream or a haircut-maybe to attend a small family event like Chris’s mom’s funeral or his dad’s wedding, but not a haircut.

4. What clues did they give away exactly? The not-actually-matching shirts? The not-at-all matching duvet covers? The song lyrics? None of these “clues” are evidence of a relationship. They are simply evidence of a fandom obsessed with making everything into confirmation bias and Abby’s talent at bringing everything back to Crisscolfer.

5. Now she starts to layout her argument that “everyone knows and they are willing to keep it a secret because who cares”? This argument is so weak I would hope that her community should see right through it, but I’m sure they don’t. I’ve learned through my interactions with Trump supporters and ccers that people who are in a group because they want to win and to be special, people who are bonded together through anger, misogyny, and hate require very little fact-based information. They thrive on short sentences-repeated often- and in anger and having a scapegoat to hurl all their shit at. Having someone to hate is like meth- it’s highly addictive, it rots their brains and it keeps them coming back even after it is killing them. I am sure that any ccer who reads awesome’s post will accept it all at face value. Hollywood isn’t a close community full of people who either love and respect each other enough to protect Darren or are indifferent as long as it doesn’t affect them. The fact is, Hollywood is a small community, yes. If cc were a couple, everyone would know but being a small community and one willing to hide another’s deep dark secrets aren’t the same thing. Nobody has a reason to protect Chris and Darren by lying or actively working to protect their secrets.. People like and respect Darren because he’s genuine, honest, kind, and interesting but ccDarren is none of those things. He’s a liar who is hiding in the closet because he’s can’t give up his fame, he “treats Mia like shit”, he continues to work with the man who put him in the closet using THE Contract. THE Contract alone would be HUGE and go well beyond tabloid fodder. The NYT and WaPo would be all over the story of Ryan Muphy and Fox TV forcing Darren into the closet, forcing a beard and forbidding them to interact for a decade.

The biggest reason her theory is nothing but a naive fantasy is that Hollywood isn’t a static community. Over the last decade, many people came and went and there is no way you will ever convince me that in 10 years, not one person let it slip or was willing to sell them out for their own 15 minutes of fame or blackmailed one of the players get something they wanted. Darren is a vary social man and lots of people consider him their friend. He attends a lot of functions where people see him with Mia. Either ccDarren and ccChris never go out in public- for 10 years they have kept their relationship inside at one of their homes and only a couple of friends know the truth or it’s statistically inconceivable that someone hasn’t slipped or outed them. Glee had a huge cast and crew- add the plus ones and we have a crap ton of people who know, but not one person told a friend who let it slip? Nobody told a friend who works at TMZ or knows someone who does or who is on TMZ payroll? Puh-leaze .

The tabloids would LOVE to get ahold of CrissColfer- not simply because they are gay, but because Darren has presented as straight for over 10 years and he just married a woman! He also said as a straight man he won’t play another gay character. A gay Darren would be tabloid fodder at any level but as Abby loved to point out, he just won every award; he’s one of the Ryan Murphy Players and his career is on fire right now. CDAN has posted multiple blinds about Darren being gay over the years which proves that tabloids would be interested in such a story.

6. In 2020 it would be big news if a celeb married to hide a gay relationship. Especially if that man was famous for playing gay characters and who has been in a relationship with the woman he married for 10+ years. Awesome is dreaming if she imagines nobody would care about such a story. It’s a story about deception and lies but if you add in the shit they believe, THE Contracts and being forced in the closet, a paid beard who abuses Darren and hidden relationship with another man who has presented another man as his long-term boyfriend? Yeah, that would be huge news.

7. I have no clue why she thinks he isn’t famous enough to have a tabloid pay for information. Has she read TMZ in the last 5 years? It’s full of stories about Farah Abrahman and other reality stars and their shenanigans. You don’t have to be a huge blockbuster movie star to get a tabloid interested. You only need a sordid story about love mixed with deception, sex, money murder or abuse of power. The tabloids feed off stories like the tinhats have written CrissColfer.

8. I always love the comments about his team forcing articles out -especially Mia. WTF? His team doesn’t force out articles- they get him publicity when he has a project. Darren hasn’t done all that much press I would call fake, certainly, not many that are written by his team or read as if they just pieced together PR pieces written by his team. Maybe ccers are finding nonsense articles that are clearly written for clicks (they were debating about one last month that was clearly written by someone who Googled Darren and cobbled together his story from what they found online without trying very hard. It wasn’t even written well. It’s super easy to avoid those articles- if they say “sponsored” that’s a good clue. If you have to click through paragraph by paragraph or photo by photo, or you can barely see the article among the flashing ads, you’re probably reading something of poor quality and not worthy of your time. Stick with articles that are more reputable-actual entertainment publications that cover the industry and including interviews or stories written by journalists. BTW, when was Mia in an article last? I mean more than a mention or two? She was quoted in some for TSG’s opening but other than that she isn’t in the pieces.

9. There are plenty of couples who keep their relationships quiet but Darren Criss is NOT one of them. Neither is Chris Colfer... but especially not Darren Criss. He doesn’t talk about his relationship per se but is mentioned in places where one would normally talk about one’s spouse. Mia is always by his side and clearly enmeshed in his life- they share old friends and live and work together. The people awesome is referring t-those who keep their private lives private- aren’t running around with a fake wife or fake husband to protect their actual relationships- they are just keeping everything quiet-think Ryan Gosling and Eva Mendes or early Angelina and Brad. Arguing that because some celeb’s keep their private life private, it is rational to believe that Darren and Chris are simply one of those couples is a fallacy-but it’s almost 3 am and I’m too tired to think about which one it is.

11. Now she’s arguing that in over a decade in Hollywood, the people in Darren’s and Chris’s lives have been static and therefore there isn’t anyone to rock the boat and out them. An interesting argument in light of Darren’s resume over the last 9 years- Broadway (4 different shows (2 Hedwigs)), TV (Royalties, Hollywood, Glee, AHS, ACS), music (including a few tours, 2 albums, multiple one-off shows, and several music videos), Elsie Fest, two feature movies and all the award shows, charity events, fundraisers, and other random things that Darren does. He also owns two businesses that we know of- TSG and The Motley. That’s a shitload of people that he’s interacted with just at work in the last decade. Oh and add all the people who worked on the wedding-the vendors and their staffs- it’s unrealistic to believe that not one of them realized something was ccUp. Chris entirely changed careers adding all the people in the publishing world that an author works with. He also has done a couple of shows for TV. I’m not even considering the charities they both work with. Not only is this a LOT of people who are keeping their mouths shut, but it isn’t a static group-Darren filmed Hollywood and Royalties this year and rehearsed Amerian Buffalo bringing in an entirely new set of people to work with. If Chris gets his TLOS movie off the ground that will be hundreds and hundreds of new people with him The fact is, Hollywood isn’t static- it’s the most unstable business I can think of with new people coming to seek their dreams and others giving up or going off to do something else like music or Broadway. There are alwasy new people coming and others going. If Darren and Chris were in fact in a relationship then lots of people near htier homes would know- grocery store workers, restaurant staff, dry cleaners, etc. Yet nobody with this type of evidence has ever even suggested they are a couple. The legit media has never sniffed around trying to find out if Darren is actually gay or with Chris. That says a lot about the validity of the story. Darren would have been hounded by the media when he started playing Blaine but was telling everyone he was staright and showing up at events with Mia.

Hollywood isn’t known for being altruistic and kind. It’s a ruthless industry full of people with huge egos and big power and people who are broke and just want to get hired for a part, they want their dreams to come true. Hollywood is a town of desperation for so many with big dreams and a quick buck selling a story to a tabloid or the 10 minutes of fan that it would bring- hell even someone making a deal with TMZ to cover them for a period of time in exchange for info about Chris and Colfer is wayyy more credible rational than believing Hollywood is static and nobody has a reason to out Darren.

12. Laughter and joy are important in a relationship but smiling at someone during a charity online reunion isn’t proof of anything- it’s just common courtesy to be polite in that scenario. Notice they once again are relying on a photo- a stillshot from a video- 1 single frame is “PROOF they are in love” because Chris is giving heart eyes to Darren.

If your entire argument is they have overwhelming chemistry then you must know that nobody will take you seriously and you should really get listen to an objective opinion by someone who isn’t desperately searching for confirmation bias that they are a couple. Good chemistry doesn’t make a relationship-lots of people have good chemistry and they aren’t in a relationship and lots of people in relationships have poor chemistry. It isn’t proof of anything except that ccers have no evidence.

#CrissColfer #Darren Criss #Crisscolfer lol #Hollywood is static #awesome-fanfictionada

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violetsmoak · 5 years ago

Text

Philtatos [12/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20101543/chapters/47690671

Blanket Disclaimer

Summary: During a patrol where Red Hood and Red Robin cross paths, Jason is infected with the blood of the Eros, the ancient God of Love, who informs them that they must track down his missing bow and arrows, or Jason will go slowly mad with an obsessive desire–for Tim. Though overwhelmed by the sudden attention being paid to him, Tim sets to work trying to solve the case, before Jason succumbs to madness. In the meantime, Jason discovers that there’s more than godlike powers at work here, as well as a legacy that reaches back through the sands of time.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

Beta Reader: None at the moment.

JayTimBingo Prompts This Chapter: #undying love #reincarnation #secrets #oracle #betrayal #prophecy

First Chapter

________________________________________________________________

Tim might be on the verge of panicking.

“It’s handled, I promise,” he insists again, stomach tightening in dismay at how much Cassie isn’t buying it. “We’ve got a system.”

“A system,” she repeats in clear disbelief.

“Yes, a system. And yes, it has a few kinks—but it’s working! According to Eros, most people that have been infected with his blood completely lose it in days, but it’s been two weeks and Jason’s still himself.”

“And you actually trust Eros isn’t just saying things you want to hear?”

“Not even a little,” Tim acknowledges. “But considering what I’ve seen when Jason lapses into his episodes, he could be doing a lot worse right now.” He remembers the older man’s condition in the containment unit before Tim figured out how to help him. “A lot worse.”

“That doesn’t exactly inspire confidence.”

“Besides, Batman will flip if you guys descend on the city while he’s trying to deal with everything.”

“Do I look like I care?”

“Seriously, you know how possessive he gets of Gotham, but it’s turned up to 11 whenever the Family’s involved.” Especially when that family’s Jason; their issues aside, if Jason’s in trouble, Bruce will drop everything for him. “I think piling anything else on him right now would make his brain explode.”

Cassie snorts. “Might we worth it then.”

“Cassie….I promise. We’re okay,” Tim insists. “I’m okay. And Jason’s so freaked out about this, he’s been cooperating more with us now than he has since he came back from the dead. He was the one who reached out for help from B, even. None of us could ever have seen that coming.”

Whether she’s surprised or not by Tim’s words, she continues to look doubtful.

“So where is he now?” she asks instead. “I don’t see him with you.”

Tim shifts in discomfort, glad she can’t see his body language below his head and shoulders. “I did tell you things weren’t as bad as they could be. It’s not like he has to be constantly glued to my side.”

Doesn’t mean he does well when he’s far away, though.

“I’m probably in more danger from Dick right now, and we’ve got him on lock-down. Hopefully not for long, if I can get Eros to help. Or if Jason can help.”

Wonder Girl continues to look like she’s waiting for a more convincing argument on Tim’s end, but he knows she trusts him. After doubting him when he believed Bruce was still alive and lost in time, she’s become the first one to believe even his most farfetched ideas and theories.

“Alright,” she says at last. “I’ll back off. For now. But I fully expect you to check in with me on the regular.” She jabs a finger in his direction. “If you go radio-silent on me again, we’re showing up there whether your or Batman like it or not.”

“Got it.”

“I mean it, Tim. I expect you to text me every hour or two to check in. And gods all help you if you’re downplaying any of this.”

“Acknowledged.”

She gives him one last worried look and then says, “Okay then. Take care. And I’ll talk to you in a few hours.”

“Yeah.”

“Good luck.”

The call ends and Tim lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. That was a close one.

“Does it ever bother you, how good you are at lying?” Steph’s voice asks from behind him and he winces.

Not out of the woods yet, I guess.

“Lies are a necessary evil in our line of work,” Tim dismisses, turning around to face her. She’s clearly returned to see if Bruce left him in pieces, which is both appreciated and slightly annoying. “You of all people know that.”

She snorts, acknowledging the dig, but doesn’t comment on it. Instead, she stays her course. “I’m not talking about our line of work; I’m talking about with your friends.”

“If it will protect—"

“They’re offering to help, Tim. I don’t know if we’re exactly in a position to be looking down on that.”

“We’re not at that point yet,” Tim insists.

“Oh, really? Sure you’re not avoiding accepting help because you don’t want any other people knowing about your feelings for Jason?”

His cheeks burn. He should have known she wasn’t going to just leave it. “That’s not it.”

“Really? Because honestly, if you’re ashamed of this—of him—that’s a pretty good indicator that this thing with him isn’t a good idea.”

“You think I don’t know it’s not a good idea?!” Tim snaps, his forced calm abandoning him all at once. “Like I don’t remember every reason why it can’t work? Or everything Jason’s done?”

What he could still do. Because if—when we fix him, it’s not like he’s going to stick around. Even if he’s not sick of looking at me after being forced to want me, he’s not about to settle down in Gotham and follow Bruce’s rules.

He clenches his fists, takes a breath and talks himself back down.

“I’m aware of all of this. I just don’t find it a good use of my time to fixate on something that’s not going to change.”

Steph is wary. “Sounds like you’re the one under some kind of spell.”

“Yeah, well, if I am, then it started years before we met Eros,” he mutters, earning a confused look from Steph.

“What do you mean? Like when he first came back?” She appears thoughtful and then shocked. “No way. You mean when you were following him and B around as a kid? There’s no way—!”

“It was different back then,” Tim defends, feeling something inside him loosen a little. He’s been holding this one secret back for so long, and with everything going on, something’s got to give. “It wasn’t what it is now. I was drawn to him. More than Dick. There was something about Jason that…” He shakes his head. “I don’t know. I felt a connection with him. I really can’t explain it. It should have gone away when he died.”

He remembers that dark time, and how it felt like a part of his insides had rotted away upon hearing the news of Jason’s death. How he hadn’t even been allowed to grieve openly about it because he technically hadn’t known the older boy.

Hell, it should have gone away when he came back.

Even now he can still feel the impact of fists beating him down, of wire cutting into his throat and the searing slice of metal ripping into his chest.

“But it didn’t. It just…got buried in everything else that was going on. And then…”

“Be my Robin.”

“Hey there, Replacement.”

“I wasn’t always the nicest guy in the world to you.”

“Timbers!”

“Sorry you got dragged into this.”

“Aw, babybird…”

“You did good.”

“And then it all came back,” Tim concludes, defeated.

Steph is still looking at him, mouth parted in surprise that flounders for a response to that. He decides not to give her the opening for it this time.

“Forget it. As I said, it doesn’t matter. The point I’m trying to make is I know it can’t go anywhere, and that I don’t expect it to. And the fewer people who know about it, the fewer people I have to put up with pitying me when everything goes back to normal.”

“And by normal, you mean back to you bottling it up and hurting yourself,” Steph reminds him with a scowl.

“I don’t know where you’ve been the past few years but that sort of comes with the territory.”

“Tim—”

“I have to update Bruce on what Cassie told me about Eros’ arrows.”

She rolls her eyes. “Oh, awesome subject change. Real subtle.”

“We don’t have time for subtle,” he shrugs and heads for the study. She follows him, and he can practically hear her grinding her teeth at him.

Guess I should just be glad that Cass isn’t here too, or that would have gone very different…

He knows Steph still isn’t satisfied with his answers, but he doesn’t care. At least bringing up the mission, he might be able to buy himself an hour or so before she starts again.

Taking the stairs down to the cave, he coaches himself to pretend like this is a normal case and that nothing of note happened down here. That Dick isn’t locked up on the lower levels, and that Jason didn’t kiss Tim and then run away.

He’s gratified to find Barbara is already there when he gets downstairs, just pulling herself into the wheelchair friendly area they designed for the conference table.

“Tim,” she greets right away, a wan smile on her face. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m not the one in trouble,” he dismisses. “Jason is.”

“It’s why I’m here, kiddo. I think what he had me working on is related to everything that’s happening right now.”

“Explain,” Bruce commands.

“Shouldn’t we wait to get Jason back first?” Tim asks.

“I would, but I get the sense this is time-sensitive,” Barbara replies, jaw set as she brings out a thick metal disk that Tim recognizes as a microprojector. “Jason contacted me wanting to see what I could dig up on Carrie Cutter’s recent movements. It led us to her involvement in the murder of a girl we believe to be the actual Oracle of Delphi.”

“That’s not possible,” Damian says. “The last Oracle of Delphi disappeared before the fall of Rome.”

“More likely, moved underground,” Bruce muses.

“Exactly,” Barbara agrees. “I searched the web and official data servers and couldn’t find any information about the information besides what was in the newspapers. No surveillance, no video, audio—nothing. So I sent Duke to investigate the site.” She taps the device on the table and a holographic image appears, projecting a likeness of Signal in front of them at one-eighth the size. “He just arrived there.”

“What took so long?” Damian huffs.

“Unlike you rich kids, Greek wasn’t one of my high school electives,” Duke's voice deadpans across the comm line. “And real-time language translation software doesn’t exactly pick up the regional dialects very well.”

“Have you had time to go over the scene?” Tim asks.

“Not yet. Better to have you guys standing by instead of having to tell it all again later.”

“Even if this oracle said anything, Signal’s abilities don’t allow him to hear sounds,” Bruce points out.

“Witnessing everything firsthand will still give us a better idea of what’s going on,” Barbara answers.

“Might give you a better idea,” Duke replies. “It’s just going to give me nightmares.”

“What do you see?” Bruce asks.

There’s a sigh. “It’s not pretty…”

Right now, Tim is glad Jason isn’t around. Child deaths hit him hard.

“There’s a family sitting down for a meal,” Duke relates. “Mother, grandmother maybe—and the kid, it looks like. And she’s not just blind like Oracle’s reports said—she doesn’t have eyes at all.”

Steph swears.

“She hears something. Looks up. Mom’s heading for the door, and—and that’s Cutter. Exactly like the picture in her dossier. She’s just walking in and she—okay, that’s weird.”

“What?”

“She didn’t just burst in here with knives drawn. And she’s…kneeling?”

“That’s weird, right?” Steph asks.

“Oracles were intermediaries for the gods,” Barbara says. “It’s probably a formality. Like not turning your back on a king or something.”

“Cutter’s asking her something. Can’t really get the right angle to see what it is though. Now the girl’s talking.” A long pause. “She seems to have a lot to say. And Cutter’s hanging on to every word.” He glances at something invisible to the rest of them. “Mom and Grandma there seem more worried about all this than she is. If this kid’s a seer, you’d think she’d know what’s about to happen and try to—oh.”

He looks away then, the image of him balling his hands into fists.

There’s no need to ask why.

“It was quick,” he says after a moment, his voice heavy with anger and something else. “For her, at least. Not so much for the others. And she’s leaving now—that’s.”

He shakes his head, coming back to the present.

“Is there any indication of what the girl said to cause Cutter or whatever god is possessing her to lash out?” Bruce wants to know.

“Not really. I mean, I’ll try watching it again but—wait.” His image goes utterly still for a few seconds and then startles. “Okay, you guys are not going to believe this.”

“Stop drawing things out and get to the point!” Damian commands.

“Robin,” Bruce reprimands, earning a scowl but compliance. “What is it, Signal?”

“She’s talking in English.”

That makes them all look at each other.

“Are you sure?” Tim asks, at the same time Steph wants to know, “How can you be sure?”

“I know I haven’t got as much lip-reading practice as you guys, but I’ve gotten good enough to recognize someone speaking English,” Duke deadpans. “And everything this girl said, she said it in English.”

“That’s not possible,” Barbara says, frowning. “No one in the area speaks English. I checked.”

“Maybe she’s been getting private lesso—whoa.” He straightens up then, posture more alert. “Missed that before. She’s not looking at Cutter while she’s talking like I thought she was.”

“That matters?”

“Little bit, I think. Since she’s looking at me.”

Tim’s mouth parts a bit. “What?”

“She knew you were going to be there,” Barbara realizes.

“Tell us what she’s saying,” Bruce orders.

“Give me a sec. It’s not like an instant replay button, you know.”

Everyone waits with bated breath as Duke tenses again and focusses. Then he speaks, careful and halting.

“' The…unseen…darkness…cannot keep…it’s captive…for mortal masks…the divine that seeks—'” Duke stops and shakes his head. “It’s too fast after that. Going to take some time to get the whole thing.”

Barbara breathes out something that could be a curse. “It’s a prophecy. An actual prophecy from the Oracle of Delphi.”

“Duke, make sure you record every single word exactly as it’s said,” Bruce orders. “With ancient prophecies, the smallest inaccuracy can change the entire meaning.”

“You suddenly believe in prophecies, B?” Duke asks.

“No. I believe in having the most complete picture possible. And rushing you will compromise that. Take the time you need to transcribe what she said and upload it to the system.” Bruce straightens up. “We’ll figure out the meaning behind it once we have the whole thing.”

“Whatever you say, boss. Shouldn’t take more than a few viewings for me.”

His image sputters and then vanishes.

“I know you’re good and all, Bruce, but ancient prophecies were created to be beyond what humans could understand,” Barbara points out. “And even if you figure out everything, there’s still all the double and hidden meanings.”

“We have access to Eros, though,” Damian points out. “Have him decipher it.”

Bruce shakes his head. “We can’t trust that he won’t twist the meaning for his own gain.”

“Or we can just ask Jason,” Tim points out.

“What?”

“Well, apparently part of being infected by the blood of a god means being able to read the languages and word of the gods. So somehow, his brain is operating on the same plane or wiring that Olympian gods do,” Tim explains. “Stands to reason he might be able to shed light on things that way.” There’s an air of hesitation in the air, and he continues, “Besides, we have to find him anyway. Other than the fact he might be hurt right now, Cassie said there’s a possibility he could help cure Dick.”

“How?” Damian demands immediately.

“Convoluted Olympian reasons,” Tim says, not wanting to get into it. “The point is, we need to find Jason before we do anything else.”

He meets and holds Bruce’s gaze, almost challenging him to find something more important. There’s a beat where the older man considers him with the full Batman calculation, and then he nods.

“Then we’re going to need the most up to date information on his usual bolt holes. You have the most up-to-date list.”

Tim is hesitant.

There are several safe houses he knows of that he’s sure no one else in the Family is aware of, not even Barbara. He’s kept to himself what he knew because Jason values his privacy. He won’t be happy if Tim rats him out.

But then again.

It’s been almost two hours since Jason left, and the last time he was away from me for so long things didn’t go well. He could be sitting in a corner with slit wrists for all we know.

His stomach twists painfully at the mental image, and that’s what decides him.

“Okay,” he says, and slides over the computer to type the addresses and coordinates of the mental list he’s been keeping.

Twelve locations pop up on the giant map of Gotham. Bruce’s eyebrows draw together as they rove over three that he clearly didn’t know about. If anyone thinks it’s odd that Tim has such detailed knowledge of Jason’s comings and goings, no one mentions it. Instead, Bruce’s shoulders set and he turns to the others.

“We’ll cover the ground faster if we split up,” he declares. “Alfred will stay here in case he comes back to the manor on his own. Stephanie, cover these three—” He gestures to the blinking dots across the East End, “—Damian, the ones off the Financial District. I’ll take the docks and Tricorner—”

“What about me?” Tim interrupts.

“You’re still benched.”

“I know that. But shouldn’t I still come alone to calm him down?”

“No. You need to remain in one place so it’s easier to bring him to you if required.”

Tim wants to argue, but he knows Bruce has a point. Whether Jason elects to return to the manor on his own or the others find him, they need to know where to bring him.

“It’s just as well,” Barbara says. “We need to speak to Eros. We can go to Tim’s place and wait there.”

“He’s unlikely to be honest,” Bruce says.

“Maybe, but even lies can give us an idea of the truth. You see it a lot in historiography. Lots of sources are biased, the trick is to get as many as possible to form the most accurate picture possible.”

Tim pounces on the opportunity to do something.

“We can get Eros to tell us what all this means, and then we ask Jason when we find him. He’ll be able to fill in anything that might have gotten ‘lost’ in Eros’ version.”

“Assuming he’s even lucid anymore,” Steph asks. “How do we know he hasn’t devolved into a gibbering idiot already?”

“He hasn’t,” Tim says immediately.

“And you know this how?”

He recalls the mysterious blades Jason was so evasive about. “I just do.”

Stephanie’s eyes narrow, and he knows she’s likely trying to decide how much of his confidence is justified and how much is due to his feelings.

As if I’d be that unprofessional, he thinks in annoyance as he goes to copy the recording of Duke’s findings.

“Let’s go,” Bruce says and turns toward the stairs. Then he pauses. “And Tim?”

“Yeah?”

“Civvies only. I haven’t changed my mind about that.”

Tim rolls his eyes but decides to allow it—for now. “Okay, Bruce.”

“Come on, kiddo, let’s go,” Barbara says, wheeling toward the elevator. “Time to interrogate a god.”

He makes a face. “Are you sure you want to subject yourself to that? He’s kind of a jerk.”

“I spent the last ten years dealing with immature man-children. This will be a breeze.”

⁂

“Now that we’ve got the broad terms of the agreement sorted out, there is one tiny, slight hiccup,” Eros says.

“Only the one?” Jason retorts, unimpressed, rubbing at the site of the wound which started all of this.

“Only one that matters,” the Olympian says. “See, I did have a vial of Stygian Sleep on me—always do, since you never know when you need to make a quick escape from a family dinner.”

“Right…”

“But like I said, I wasn’t expecting you two to burst into my digs—just like I wasn’t expecting bird boy to lock me in this glorified hamster cage. So that vial is still hidden in one of the pieces on display at my warehouse.”

Jason groans. “Which was repossessed by the cops right after we busted it up.”

“Probably.”

“So now a deadly Olympian poison is in evidence lock-up at GCPD headquarters?”

“Possibly? Though they won’t even know what it is or where it is. It’s hidden in something that looks like a stone slab, so I doubt they’ll be cracking it open looking for drugs or anything.”

“It still leaves me with the problem of gettin' in there and grabbin' it, doesn’t it?” Jason snarls.

He paces a bit back and forth, trying to think up the best way to get inside without attracting attention. He’s got his own base of operations under the building, but he’s not keen on potentially burning that location just for the sake of finding Eros’ lost property.

Assuming it’s even there in the first place. Maybe it’s still back at the docks; they might not have confiscated everything yet. Unlikely, but possible. I’ll have to go there first. Possibly run into whatever scavengers or light security force is hanging about.

Not something he wants to do when he’s this compromised.

“Look at that, I can practically see the cogs spinning behind that sexy brow,” Eros says. “Hopefully whatever you come up with is more successful than your last plan.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, in your dramatic entrance, you seem to have forgotten to let me know how the ritual went. Since you’re here and my arrows aren’t, obviously you failed.”

“And got shot for my trouble,” Jason grumbles. “Speakin' of, any idea why your all-powerful arrows wouldn’t work on me, but they did on my br—on Nightwing?”

“The golden arrows can’t invalidate a match that they’re responsible for creating,” Eros says. “To do that, you’d have to be hit first with a leaden arrow to invalidate the feelings.”

“But we weren’t hit with any arrows this lifetime. Think we would have noticed by now.”

“Not in this life. Keep up, precious. You were joined together with Patroklus since the first time you were alive. Normally, that kind of bond vanishes with death—the whole Lethe deal, right?”

“…Normally.”

“But you died loving each other. Your last thoughts in both your lives have always been on each other. That’s powerful magic, older than me even. It seems to have given you a measure of protection your Nightwing doesn’t have, by confusing the diviners into thinking you’re still matched.”

“So I’m what, immune?” That could be a good thing.

“Maybe? I wouldn’t put money on it. You probably just got lucky. If you get hit by the lead one next time, it could sever even that. So, try not to get shot again, m’kay?”

“Great advice,” Jason seethes.

Though if he didn’t have any kind of connection to Tim, it would be that much simpler to foil the machinations of this entitled godling and whatever entity is working with Carrie Cutter.

The instant the thought enters his mind, he wants to throw up. The idea of hating Tim now—even though he can remember what that felt like—sends a visceral terror slamming into him with the same force of the Joker’s crowbar.

So much for having any kind of advantage in this whole situation.

Damn it, what am I even supposed to do about Tim?

His personal feelings (and the supernatural infection) aside, the best thing would be to avoid him. He’s not quite sure how he’ll be able to interact with or even just be around the younger man now that he knows the truth. Especially since with every passing minute he’s remembering more bits and pieces of lives long forgotten—he recalls the promises they made each other, can remember the feel of Tim’s skin beneath his fingers and the taste of his lips—

Stop it.

No, he can’t tell him.

Tim, like both of his past lives, will put what he thinks are Jason’s needs in front of his own. Worse, it will all be him humoring him, which puts a sour taste in Jason’s mouth. The idea of devaluing the bond between them that has spanned time and space and civilizations is almost as painful as the knowledge that bond is about to be severed—and by him, no less.

There’s a distant sound of a motor, the hum of the secret garage door of the Nest opening, and Jason tenses.

Shit. Tim.

He needs to get out of here before he’s noticed.

Except, he can’t seem to make his limbs move.

If he were completely himself, he could be out of here in an instant without even evidence that he was here. But—

But Tim is close. He’s nearby and—

And Jason knows that he’s not going to get anything done unless he gets a fix, something to hold him over while he figures out the next step in his plans.

Shit, now I’m comparing him to drugs. What the hell.

Somehow, the decision to not leave before Tim allows him some measure of movement.

Jason shoves the gold coin into his pocket—he can figure out what to do with it later—and forces himself to act. He has to delete whatever surveillance footage is on the Nest from the last hour before Tim arrives.

He can’t have him knowing what’s going on. Not unless Jason can think of a better explanation than, ‘hey, by the way, reincarnation is real, and we used to be in love with each other and I’m pretty much looking at a suicide mission in my near future.’

That definitely won’t go over well.

He looks up as a car pulls in, tires barely squealing to a stop before Tim is out the door.

“Jason!”

He’s in civvies now, less covered in grime and bruises than before, and instead of a mask, he’s wearing dark shades to hide his eyes.

Jason swallows the growing lump in his throat and fights down the temptation to hurry forward and wrap his arms around the smaller man. Seeing Tim now—now that he’s remembering—Jason is reliving moments long forgotten, soft laughter in his ear and fingers running through his hair and warmth and safety and—

He inhales sharply, shaking away the images.

That’s over, he tells himself as Tim comes to a stop a few paces in front of him.

“You’re here?” His surprised expression blossoms with what Jason can only describe as relief, even though he can’t understand the reason behind it. He doesn’t remember their pasts, he has no reason to care about Jason beyond the parameters of this mission.

“Yeah,” he replies cautiously, folding his arms and taking a half-step backward.

He needs to keep his distance, no matter how much his fingers are twitching to thumb Tim’s lower lip, how much he wants to wrap him in his arms, bury his face in the crook of his neck and—

“I needed a face-to-face with the source of all our problems,” he says, voice hoarse as he nods toward Eros.

“He was very rude,” the Olympian agrees. “Told me he’d kill me and everything. Isn’t that right, Jason?”

Tim barely spares a glance at Eros, face still pulled into a concerned frown as he steps forward. “I was worried. Driving in your condition, you could have gotten into another accident.”

“Someone gave me a lift.”

“Oh. Okay. That’s…” Tim trails off, perhaps seeming a little lost before his features arrange themselves into careful blankness. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

He reaches out to put his hand on Jason’s shoulder, and Jason pulls back.

“Not a good idea.”

“I’m just trying to help.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“Really? Have you looked in the mirror? Your pale and sweating, your eyes are bloodshot and your knees look like they’re about to give out under you.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

“Well, neither are you,” he shoots back. “Why are you even here? You shouldn’t be anywhere near me after I…”

He trails off, remembering suddenly that they’re not alone.

“You just shouldn’t be here,” he finishes, a little lamely.

Eros is watching all of this with a smarmy grin on his face, and when Jason hears a noise behind him, he turns in time to see Babs just lowering herself out of the passenger seat of the car into her wheelchair. She’s also wearing dark tinted glasses to hide her identity, and he sort of wishes he had thought to do the same before staggering in here to confront the Olympian.

Tim continues to frown at Jason like he’s trying to figure out a puzzle, and then his expression softens a bit.

“Let’s talk, okay?” he offers. “Just talk. Like adults, okay?”

“Oh, this should be good,” Eros says, and the asshole actually rubs his hands together.

This time, Tim shoots him a glare. “Not here.”

“Take your time,” Barbara says, wheeling closer to the containment unit and glaring up at Eros. “Tweety Bird and I need to have a little chat anyway. There are a few things that probably make more sense from the original source.”

From the way she’s looking at the Olympian, if it were anyone else, Jason would feel sorry for him; considering what he’s holding over Jason’s head, he kind of hopes Barbara has him crying before the end of the night.

Before he can get too detailed with his inner imaginings of how to make the god of love miserable, the hair on the back of his neck and arms raises and Tim walks passed him—worryingly close to him—and heads for the entrance to his apartment. “Coming?”

And he really, really shouldn’t.

But the hunger that isn’t hunger is stronger, starving just to be in the same general radius as the younger man.

How am I supposed to sneak off to find Eros’ supply of Stygian Sleep if I can’t even think around this?

He tells himself it’s purely tactical, that he’s just getting his fix of being around Tim, enough to make getting out of here and getting what he needs to complete his deal with Eros.

“Fine,” he replies, voice strained.

He follows Tim out of the Nest, keeping a carefully calculated distance between them as long as he can. Once inside the apartment, Tim heads for the kitchen and opens the fridge.

“You hungry?” he asks, as casually as if Jason just happened by for a visit—except it’s not casual, because it’s never happened. “After everything that’s happened tonight, you need to keep your energy up.” He pauses and then looks apologetic. “I mean the fight with Carrie and your magic swords, not the, uh, other—”

“I’m sorry,” Jason blurts out. “About what happened.”

“Jason—”

“I wasn’t thinkin'—shit, obviously I wasn’t thinkin'—but I figured I had a handle on the impulses.”

“It’s not—”

“You shouldn’t even want to be around me right now.”

“Jason, it’s okay,” Tim insists, slamming the fridge door and raising his voice. “I just didn’t think you were at the point where you…I didn’t think you wanted—”

“Well, neither did I!”

Jason’s still not sure if it was the infection that prompted him to make a move on Tim, or the latent memories trying to get out. If anything, the kiss is what woke him up, so maybe it was the latter.

In which case, it’s even more important to make sure it doesn’t happen again.

“We’re not doing this…this anymore,” he decides gesturing between them. “You’ve already let me push the boundaries on this one way too far, and you shouldn’t be expected to let someone full-on grope you—"

“You didn’t grope me.”

“Whatever I did, it wasn’t okay because you don’t want me to—"

“I want you to,” Tim says, so quickly that he blushes, looking like he surprised himself.

Jason freezes, wondering if he’s hearing things. He takes an extra few seconds to review that. “What.”

“Not like that,” Tim rushes to explain, words tripping over each other; he glances away. “I mean—it’s just…it’s not as big an issue as you’re making it. Don't look at me like that, it's not a big deal. In the grand scheme of stuff you’ve done to me, kissing me doesn’t even register at the top of the Horrible Things That Could Happen List.”

“Stop tryin' to make me feel better. You suck at it.”

“I’m not just trying to make you feel better. It really could be worse.” His words continue to rush into each other, betraying his obvious discomfort. “And I know you won’t read into it beyond this being me helping you, and we’re all aware of your views on consent, so I know you didn’t mean anything by it. And it’s not like if I had to make out with Ra’s al-Ghul, right?”

Jason growls, remembering Eros’ threat. “Thanks for that scarring imagery, and the comparison with the creepiest creeper we know. That makes me feel so much more on board with this.”

“The point is if it’s something that helps you, if this grounds you…if you want to…whatever it is, I’m okay with it.”

And doesn’t that just tear into Jason?

“There’s two people involved in this, Tim!” he snaps. “And I’m not okay with it just because it’s supposed to help me. If you even knew…”

Knew what I want to do with you. To you. What we’ve already done, and you don’t even remember—!

“Look, we just can’t, okay?”

Tim lets out a frustrated puff of air. His cheeks puff in a way that has Jason swallowing hard, contemplating how suspicious it would seem if he took off back to the cave.

“Okay, let’s try a compromise here,” Tim says after a minute. “What if we made a list?”

Jason blinks and can’t help glancing back. “What?”

“Of things that we can both agree beforehand are…acceptable. If I’m telling you beforehand exactly what is and isn’t okay, then maybe you won’t feel so much like you’re taking advantage if you need to—if you need to do something to anchor yourself.”

“Tim…”

“No, listen—you were right before. Me just giving a blanket statement that everything’s okay, it isn’t me being honest with you. This way, we can both have boundaries.” Jason is already gearing up to protest until Tim adds, “It might not be a long-term solution, but it’s something, right? And anything not on the list, you can just ask or try to remember if you have the sudden compulsion to do something. And if I’m not comfortable with it we can—I don’t know, try to redirect somehow.”

“You mean if I suddenly get the urge to stick my tongue down your throat?” Jason deadpans. “Give you a warnin' so you can knock me out?”

Tim’s cheeks flare pink. “Um…not…exactly. But yeah. That’s sort of the idea.”

“Except I couldn’t stop myself before,” he points out. “What makes you think I’ll be able to now?”

Tim thinks about it, bites his lip—oh, don’t do that, please don’t do that—and then shrugs. “I trust you.”

So not a good answer, kid.

As if he can sense the direction of his thoughts, Tim narrows his eyes and juts his chin out. "I do."

“This is such a bad idea,” Jason croaks.

“Got any better ones? Whether we manage to cure you or not, we’re on limited time here. We’ve all been trained to withstand torture for days. I know you can do this.”

Just what every guy wants to hear—that the person they’re hitting on is comparing it to torture.

And that’s what it would be, too, for Jason at least.

But he’s still thinking about it—gods above, he’s thinking about it.

Because this is Patroklus and Hephaestion all over; this is Tim. Always has a plan, always has a scenario and an answer to everything. He means it as an olive branch, but Jason can’t help seeing it as a lifeline.

I should just tell him. If I tell him, we can figure this out together.

But he can’t.

Because he remembers.

Letting Patroklus plan, giving him the reigns of control, allowing him to know the full story, that’s only ever gotten him killed. In both their previous lives he planned everything in their lives around Achilleus or Alexandros’ legacy—around his glory and survival.

At least keeping Tim in the dark will keep his mind on the case—on stopping Carrie and her unnamed god friend from unleashing whatever trouble they’re seeking on Gotham. The city needs Tim’s brains focused on that, not on Jason’s past lives’ feelings.

As it is, in the long run, it won’t matter. There might be a cure for Jason’s condition, but Eros all but told him he’s not going to be the one benefitting from it. Even if they find the diviners beforehand, Eros has made it clear what will happen.

What’s the point of bringing it all up when there’s no getting out of it?

Jason’s pretty much signed a new death warrant for himself and he won’t just be going to the green paradise of his memories when this is over. And he won’t be seeing Tim or any version of him ever again.

He studies Tim now, watching him shift uncomfortably as he waits for Jason’s response to his plan. A plan that is hopeful and sweet in the face of a life they both know is anything but. Ignorant of the entire situation, Tim is still trying to give Jason as long as he can as himself.

Which, if I’m going to be spending an eternity alone in some fresh patch of hell…why can’t I have a few days?

Being with Tim as long as possible, even if Tim doesn’t remember the truth of it all…maybe that would be okay.

He feels his misgivings ebb away—gods, I’m weak—and allows himself to relax.

“So,” he begins, tentative, “what would be a definite ‘no’ for you?”

Tim’s eyes widen incrementally, surprise flashing across his features, but he is quick to hide it. He obviously wasn’t expecting Jason to give in.

Tilting his head to one side in thought, he is silent a further few seconds, and then says, “Don’t slap my ass.”

It’s so unexpected that Jason can’t help the startled laugh. “Really?”

“I mean, I might forgive that sort of thing in private, but in front of other people definitely not. I always found it kind of tacky.” Tim pulls out one of the stools along the kitchen island and sits down in a careful attempt to be casual.

“I’m insulted you think that I’d slap someone’s ass in any situation.”

“I’ve seen you slap Roy Harper’s ass.”

“Bullshit.”

“You know how much surveillance footage we have archived of you and the Outlaws?”

“Fine. Stalker.” But the word is more affectionate than anything else. “But to be fair, it’s Roy. He does it too. It’s a…a brother’s thing.”

Mostly. Except not really. And I really hope that all that surveillance footage doesn’t extend to the interior of Kori’s ship…

“Really.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And how many times have you and Dick played ‘slap-the-ass’?” The minute the words are out, Tim turns red and makes a face like he’s just had the oxygen sucked out of his lungs; Jason himself is having a bit of trouble breathing. “I did not mean it like that,."

His face falls into his hands.

“Gods, I hope not. Way to add to the list of shit I need therapy to deal with.” Noting the younger man’s utter mortification, Jason decides it’s high time they moved this discussion along. “Okay. Fine. So, what else? No mackin' on you, obviously.”

“I told it’s fine.”

“I can tell by your tone it’s not.”

He gets a frustrated look for that, and then Tim rolls his eyes and huffs. “I’d prefer if you have to, not to do it around anyone in the Family. We’ve got enough issues to deal with beyond the commentary and worried staring. But more than that, I’m not a huge fan of PDA. It’s uncomfortable.”

Jason thinks about it and nods.

“I guess I can understand that,” he muses. “You get followed around by the paparazzi all the time. Sucks havin' people’s attention on you all the time.”

“It’s not just that. When I was a kid, my parents…well, they just were never the overly affectionate type. I’m not saying I was deprived,” he is quick to add when Jason’s brows begin to draw together, “I was just used to a more reserved kind of affection. Because in public, it all became an act. The spotlight was on us to look overly warm and loving and…it was basically the Drake version of Brucie.”

Jason gags.

“Ever since then, I try to avoid having people look at me like I’m their entertainment unless I’ve planned it out that way.”

There’s a wary, almost vulnerable edge to Tim’s words that make Jason think that this is the first time he’s ever told anyone this rather personal bit of information. He’s simultaneously grateful to have Tim’s trust, while at the same time wondering if this is just him exposing himself to make Jason feel better about his own vulnerabilities.

“What else?” he asks, hesitant but at the same time desperate for him to keep talking. To keep opening up to him.

Tim thinks again. “Uh…don’t touch my neck.”

“Huh?”

“Like, don’t rest your arms along the back of my neck, or hold it with your palm. Shoulders are okay, but my neck, that’s…I don’t like it.”

And that’s…oddly specific. Before he can fully form a question about why that is, he’s hit by another flash of memory. This one, however, isn’t of warmth or safety, but of Jason himself holding Tim up high, wire wrapped around his throat and choking the life out of him.

His heart thuds in dismay and realization.

“I’m sorry.”

“Jason—”

“What I did to you wasn’t right.”

“We’ve been over this already—”

“We’ll never be completely over it,” Jason cuts him off. “It’s always going to be there, in the background of everythin'.” He clenches his fists. “I was puttin' my anger on the wrong person, and you got hurt because of it.”

“You weren’t in your right mind back then.”

“And how many creeps have we locked away for crimes they committed when they weren’t ‘in their right mind’?” Jason counters.

“The difference is that before this situation—before what was done to you—you were a good person. You protected people—you protected kids like me. And you're still a good person where it counts.”

Jason recalls three blood-soaked lifetimes that disprove everything Tim just said. “I was never a good person.”

“Agree to disagree.”

“No, there’s no disagreein', there’s just fact. I’ve been damaged since before I was stupid enough to get caught by the Bat.” Jason takes a step back. “We need to forget about this. After everythin' I did to you, this is a bad idea—”

“Jason, for god’s sake would you—” Tim stops talking all of a sudden, touches the comm in his ear. Then he scowls. “On our way.”

“What’s going on?”

“Babs needs us back,” Tim replies in a flat, irritated tone. Clearly he's not happy to have been interrupted. “Duke’s sending along what he found in Delphi. That’s actually another reason we wanted to find you.” He levels a sharp look at Jason. “I think it’s important we continue this conversation, but not now.”

“Small miracles,” Jason mutters under his breath.

“Probably not. Based on what Duke and Babs have said, apparently there’s a prophecy involved in all this.”

“Of fuckin' course there is,” Jason groans. "Does it say I got a starrin' role in it?"

I swear, if this involved me being a Chosen anything again, I’m out. I’ve done enough of that for three lifetimes…

"I guess we're about to find out."

Tim stands up and heads for the door to his base, and then pauses to look back at Jason. He raises an eyebrow, somehow challenging and questioning at the same time, and then holds his hand out.

Jason stares at it for a moment, almost the same way he would assess an enemy for hidden weapons, but it's just Tim's hand and he hasn't touched him in hours...

Every argument against it has already crumbled before he's reached out to lace his fingers through Tim's.

"You fight dirty," he accuses, weary.

"You like it."

That's entirely the problem, babybird.

⁂⁂⁂

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