#actually the original ending i have planned is very depressing

[itsahotminuteinbetween]

WHAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!

BLOO LORE?!!?!??!

IM SHAKING YOU

(i don't have access to images right now so please imagine the deer in headlights image thanks)

ahaha.what. i mean. uhh.

nooo....?

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

hii, idk if this is too complex but could you maybe do ethan landry x fem reader smut where he died (we all know the plot in scream 6) but like here he was just supposedly dead and actually alive but spent a few months in a psych ward and during this the reader is his ex girlfriend as they broke up one year before the events from 2023 since she didn’t want to accept him killing people for revenge but as months passed, she found out that he “died” so she took care of everything in his place, killing the core four and all and at that point she became very depressed as she still couldn’t get over him but then he suddenly appears in her life again (idk how tho, this can take place in the forest or at her house or idk) it can start a bit angst and then leading to smut with them being a bit eager as they haven’t done it in a long time. you can mention ethan having some scars somewhere on his face btw! (srry again if this is too complex 😭)

My sweet, SWEET anon. I finally have this done, thank you for being so patient with me💕 I appreciate you messaging me so I could run some ideas I had by you lol

Meet Me at Our Spot - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: You think Ethan died at the theater, so you got revenge. He isn't dead though, and you run into him at your spot.

A/N: Hi! The anon that requested this messaged me earlier to help me with some plot ideas I had, cause you know I'm a bitch that LOVES a plot. If you guys have requested something and I haven't written it yet, it could be that I'm stumped and trying to figure it out. Just message me if you're like...damn why's she taking so long lol.

“Get the fuck out!” You screamed at Ethan, as tears streamed down both of your faces.

“Why are you doing this?” he cried, his eyes pleading with yours.

“I can’t be with someone as cold-hearted as you,” you snapped, nudging him out the front door and slamming it in his face.

That was the last time you saw Ethan. After you accidentally overheard the plan his family concocted to get revenge for Richie’s death, you called him out on it. He argued that it’s what he needed to do, and that you should love him regardless. You couldn’t, not if he was going to spend the rest of his life in prison, or worse, end up dead. You were hoping the break-up would make him realize that he shouldn’t do it, and just stay with you. He didn’t though, starting college not even a month later. You stayed home, opting for online courses like you both originally planned on doing.

When you saw the news that people had died in the same area of his university, you knew he had something to do with it. You couldn’t reach out to the cops, because his dad was a well-respected detective. No one would believe you. Plus, your own safety would be at risk. Ethan made that perfectly clear during your heated argument.

Your heart sank when you heard about what happened at the abandoned theater. When you saw that Ethan was one of the suspects, and that he was found deceased, you couldn’t control your emotions as you wailed in the otherwise silent house. After you read about what happened to him, you started to understand why he felt like he needed to avenge Richie’s death, because that’s exactly how you were feeling. You wanted to get back at the people who took him from you.

You started with Kirby. She was the one that ultimately took him from you. You started to feel satisfied, but you knew you couldn’t stop until they all died. You went to Chad and Mindy, then Tara and Sam. Even with you finishing what Ethan and his family started, you still felt so empty without him.

You never read anything else about Ethan after you did what you needed to do, the thought of him being gone made you too sad to even think about it. You did keep tabs on what was happening in the investigations into your crimes, but they never had any leads. If you had kept up with the news on Ethan, you would’ve seen that the first news reports were wrong, and that he did survive.

The attempts to keep your day-to-day life normal became impossible. Your parents were always traveling, so you mostly had the place to yourself. All you wanted to do was lay in bed and cry, your living space reflecting that. You finally decided to get up and clean, coming across so many little gifts and things Ethan had gotten you over the two years you were together. When you came across the first note he wrote to you when you were juniors in high school, you started to sob. His handwriting on the page in front of you made you feel like you had a piece of him. Then, you saw the ‘Meet me at our spot’ at the bottom of the page. The spot he first told you he loved you.

He was so nervous that day, his cheeks pink as he finally got those three words out, terrified that you wouldn’t say it back. You did, though. You knew with everything in you that you were meant to be with him. You thought back to the times that you’d pass him in the hallway on your way to class, the two of you not having much time to talk. He’d say “forever” as his eyes connected with yours, and you’d always say it back. It was so simple, but he wanted you to know how much he loved you, and that you’d always have his heart.

You slipped your shoes on before heading out the door. You knew you needed to go to the spot in the woods that the two of you would always go whenever you needed to get away from life. You sat on the log you’d always sit on, crying as you touched the empty space beside you.

“I miss you so fucking much,” you sobbed, letting out so many emotions. The anger, the sadness, and the heartache overwhelming you.

“I never thought I’d see you here,” you heard, as the leaves crunched behind you.

Your head snapped in the direction of the voice, your chest getting tight as you saw Ethan standing there.

“Fuck, I really am going crazy,” you cried, taking a deep breath.

You didn’t want to look away. Even if this was a figment of your imagination, seeing him was something you so badly needed.

“You aren’t crazy,” he said, stepping closer to you.

You noticed some scars on his face, but he was still beautiful. Your heart swelled as you shut your eyes tight and reopened them, to see him still standing there.

“I’m real. I told you; you aren’t going crazy.”

You stood up and started to walk a little closer to him. His brown eyes met yours before looking at the ground, his facial expression unreadable.

“Ethan…How?” was all you got out, your brain not fully processing what was happening.

“It doesn’t surprise me that you didn’t keep track of what happened to me,” he said, turning around to walk in the opposite direction of you.

“What the fuck do you mean? You died! It was all over the news!” you yelled, as he kept walking. “Ethan, please stop.”

He stopped, his back still turned to you.

“How could you just break up with me like that? How could you just throw me away?” he said, finally turning to look at you. Tears stained his cheeks as he waited for you to respond. He’s waited over a year for an answer. “Forever must not mean much to you.”

“It doesn’t?! Then why did I finish what you started? Why did I kill for you?” you snapped, as his eyes grew wide.

“That was you?” he asked, “You’re so stupid!”

He quickly walked back towards you but kept a few feet of space in between. It was like he was too scared to get close.

“I understand why you wanted to do what you did for Richie. I couldn’t stop thinking about the people that hurt you being out there, living their lives when yours was over,” you sobbed, as he wiped the tears from his cheeks. “I said forever, and I meant it.”

He closed the space between the two of you, his lips connecting with yours. The kiss was aggressive, like you both needed it so badly for so long that you never wanted your mouths to stop moving. His hands were roaming everywhere he could reach. Your hips, your ass, your breasts. Every new area he touched had you whimpering into the kiss.

He pulled away, looking into your eyes. “I need you, baby.”

You knew what he meant; his tone full of lust. You looked around at the dead leaves and twigs on the ground, realizing that it wasn’t the most comfortable place for you to go at it for a long time, which is what you fully intended on doing.

“My parents are out of town. Let’s go,” you said, grabbing his hand as you ran with him through the woods back to your place.

Once you made it inside the front door and closed it, he shoved you up against it. You were both breathing heavy from the running, and from the anticipation.

“Have you fucked anyone since me?” he asked, his eyes dark as they looked into yours.

“No, I’ve only wanted you,” you said, as he started to smirk.

“Good, because that pussy belongs to me,” he growled, before roughly kissing you. Your arms went around his neck as his hands went to your waist, lifting you off the ground. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his hips. You could feel his cock though his jeans as it pressed against your ass, the feeling making you moan against his lips.

He carried you over to the couch, not wanting to waste a single second of time. You only pulled apart from the kiss when you both took your shirts off. You noticed the scars on his shoulder and chest, gently running your fingers over them as he started to unbutton your jeans.

You couldn’t help but wonder what the full story was. What happened after you thought he was dead?   Those thoughts were quickly pushed to the side as he slid your jeans and panties down in the same motion.

“You have no idea how bad I’ve wanted to taste you again,” he said, leaning in and licking your clit.

“Oh shit,” you whined, your fingers going to his hair as his mouth moved faster against you. “Fuck I missed you eating me out.”

He moved his mouth lower, his tongue dipping inside your dripping core. He kept moving his tongue, the sounds flooding out of your mouth going straight to his throbbing cock.

He moved back up to focus on your clit as he slid a finger in you, before adding another. Your pussy was sucking his fingers in as the wet sounds filled the room.

“Oh fuck, right there!” you cried out as the pads of his fingers moved against that special spot inside of you. “Fuck, just like that. Yesss.”

You started to move your hips against his fingers and mouth as his free hand had a strong grip on your thigh. It didn’t take long for his fingers to move faster, and that feeling you hadn’t felt in so long started to creep up. Yeah, you’d been able to get off a couple times by yourself, but nothing ever compared to how Ethan does it.

“You’re going to make me cum,” you whimpered, the intensity of the feeling getting stronger and stronger as your hips started to jerk. Ethan just kept going, his fingers and mouth not slowing as tears started to slip down your face. The orgasm was so strong as you babbled out, the things you were saying not making any sense.

When you started to relax onto the couch and your hips stilled, he slid out his fingers. You whined at the emptiness, as he started to laugh. “God, baby, you’re so needy.”  He quickly got out of his jeans and slid his boxers down, not wanting another second of time to pass without him being inside of you.

He crawled on top of you and lined up at your entrance. You squealed as he slid inside of you, the fullness making your breath hitch in your throat.

“Fuck, so tight,” he groaned, “I missed this so fucking much.”

“I missed it too,” you moaned, as he started to thrust harder. “Oh fuck!”

You were whining as his hips pounded into you, the relentless pace turning your brain to mush. He started to slow down a little, not wanting to cum too quickly.

“Let me ride you, baby,” you whimpered, “Please, I need it.”

He groaned at your words, sliding out long enough to sit on the couch. You straddled him as he gripped the base of his erection for you to sink down onto him.

“Oh my god,” you whined out, as your hands held onto the back of the couch and his hands went to your breasts.

He massaged them before taking one of your nipples into his mouth, moaning around it as your hips started to move quicker. He noticed you weren’t going all the way down, his size a little too much for you to handle.

“Aww, baby. Is it too much for you?” he asked sweetly, before grabbing your hips and fucking the rest of his cock up in you.

“Fuck fuckfuck,” you cried out, feeling the tears well up again from the pleasure. “I can’t take it.”

“Yeah you can baby, just relax. You’re doing so good for me,” he cooed, as you started to meet his thrusts with your hips. The sound of your ass slapping against his thighs echoing off the walls. “So fucking good.”

One of his hands left your hip and started to rub quick circles on your swollen clit, your walls starting to flutter the second he did it.

“You getting close, baby?” he asked, his lustful eyes looking into the ones that you were struggling to keep open.

“Mhm,” you whimpered, your eyes screwing shut as you moved as fast as you could, chasing your orgasm. “Gonna-fuck..cum,” you got out, as he added a little more pressure to your clit. “Holy fuck!”

His hands went back to your hips as you started to go limp in his arms, too fucked out to move. He bounced you on him, chasing his own orgasm. All you could do was whimper, the tears trickling out of your eyes at the feeling. He pulled out of you, his cum shooting all over your tummy and his.

“Hey, hey baby,” he said softly, “Are you okay?”

He wiped the tears from your cheeks as before you relaxed onto him.

“That felt so good,” you said, your head resting against his chest.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No baby, it was perfect.”

You stayed there pressed against him as his fingers ran up and down your bare back. It felt so nice to have him back, and you never wanted to let him go again.

“What happened? Like after you were found?” you asked, your fingers running over the scars again.

He sighed, nervous to tell you all the gory details. “I had a faint pulse when they found me. They didn’t expect me to make it. I lost a lot of blood, and had some head trauma,” he said, as you sat up a little to look at him. “Then after I started to get better, they started talking about court and I got interrogated. But someone started their own little killing spree. I started to lie, saying that the real killer that was helping dad and Quinn must still be out there if people were still dying and I was sitting in the hospital.”

“And they believed you?” you asked, waiting for him to continue.

“Yeah, not at first, but the evidence didn’t add up to me aside from the robe I was wearing. I told them that dad roped me into it…and that he threated to kill me if I didn’t participate.”

“I still can’t believe they let you out,” you said, still amazed that he was right in front of you.

“I was in there for a while, and I’ve been on so many different medications to deal with the health issues I have now…I’ll tell you about those later. But if it wasn’t for you doing what you did, I would still be in there,” he said, his hands rubbing along your sides. “When I came back, I started staying with my aunt who thinks I was this manipulated, innocent person. She takes me to all my appointments to make sure I don’t have to go back to the psych ward.”

“Why didn’t you come see me?” you asked, feeling a little hurt that he’d been home for a while and didn’t bother to try to see you.

“I thought you didn’t want to see me, so I’ve been going to our spot every single day, just to think. I’d always hoped I’d run into you there,” he said, his voice cracking as he started to tear up. “I just love you so much.”

“I love you too, baby. Forever.” You smiled, “Today was the first time I’ve been there since you left. I found a note from you earlier and I just had to go there,” you said, wiping the tears off his cheeks.

“I’m so happy you did.”

He held you there for a while, loving the way your body felt against him.

“Babe, you wanna go shower? Your cum is still all over us,” you giggled, as his hands gripped your hips.

“Who said I was done with you yet?”

[dragonfly0808]

How the Squad Found Out About that One Time Riven and Flora Kissed

First part of the chapter takes place during s4, second part is back in s2 ch28, right after the end of the chapter.

I’d originally planned to have Flo and Riv kiss in that chapter but decided against it last minute cause I just wasn’t sure how to make it clear that, while there could’ve been something there, and they both feel that, there are no actual romantic feelings between the two.

The possibility of them? Yes. the reality of them? No.

I feel like Riven and Flora have the most distinct platonic soulmate relationship, mainly because they’re the main ones I really could see falling for each other if things had been different and if they hadn’t meet Musa and Helia and I wanted to get that across in a poetic way but not a tragic way ya know? They didn’t lose anything for not falling for each other in this universe and they are still a huge part of each other’s lives if that makes sense?

Whatever, I’ll stop rambling, hope u enjoy this little drabble! I will be posting it on AO3 probably later on

***

It’d been a slow week, no activity from the Wizards and Roxy’s classes progressing nicely.

The squad had decided to have a quiet game night, with some alcohol coming into the mixture at some point.

At the moment, they were playing Truth or Dare.

In all honesty, there was very little they didn’t know about each other, but even after so long, there were still a few things that could surprise them from time to time.

Stella considered her turn, the bottle on the ground dictating that she’d gotten Riven.

The coward had chosen truth.

There were few things she could ask him that could result in anything majorly interesting.

Unless… Stella glanced towards Flora, who was leaning against Helia, his arm wrapped around her shoulders.

Anyone who had eyes could tell Flora and Riven had adored each other since their first year. That was obvious. At this point it was also obvious that, while they didn’t see each other as siblings, they didn’t see each other in any kind of romantic light either.

…but she would be lying if she said that she wasn’t curious about whether or not they ever had, even for a fleeting moment. Especially since she did remember one particular evening during their second year in which they’d both seemed… almost bashful with each other.

Should she?

Stella slowly leaned back against Brandon’s chest, meeting Riven’s challenging look, “Okay, I know what I want to ask.”

Riven spread his hands, “Go on then buttercup.”

“Have you ever… kissed someone in this room-” she ignored the snorts, continuing, “who wasn’t Musa?”

Riven froze for a split second, clearly flabbergasted before casting a single quick glance towards Flora, who had sunk into Helia’s arms, covering her face as she flushed.

“Listen-”

“I FUCKING KNEW IT!” Stella shouted, slamming a hand against the ground.

Musa broke down into giggles as she turned to Riven, “What?”

“No- it- it was before we were dating obviously. It was dumb we just…”

“We were fucking up a lot with you two so we got a little drunk and we kissed to seal our depressing marriage pact.” Flora explained.

Helia chuckled under his breath before turning to Riven with mock anger, “You got a marriage pact with my girl? What happened to the bro code?”

“We were drunk, depressed and hating on love. She was obsessed with you, I was obsessed with Musa but we were fully convinced we’d just fucked everything up for good- cut us some slack man!”

They all burst out laughing, clinging to each other as they Flora somehow sunk further into the floor and Riven hid his face in Musa’s neck.

***

Flora was thinking, unable to focus on the book in her hand. She could feel the alcohol at the base of her skull, a dull thump, barely there but just present enough to make her think.

She’d freaked out on Helia.

Riven loved her. He was her person.

Did that mean something? Or did she just want a connection that her baggage didn’t impede?

She turned to him, watching him as he tinkered on one of his projects, trying to think objectively.

He noticed after a moment, meeting her gaze, “Something wrong?”

“No, I was just… thinking.”

“About?”

He’d freaked out on Musa.

Flora loved him. She was his person.

But how did she love him? Was her mind playing tricks on her?

“Have you ever thought… that maybe… you and I should try?”

One of his eyebrows slowly rose up as he set down his tools and fully turned to face her, crossing his arms and leaning back, “I won’t lie… the thought did cross my mind once or twice… before I really started catching feelings for Musa. You?”

“Same. Before I fell for Helia… I don’t know, maybe I thought about it in passing.” But she would’ve never acted on it even back then because she knew Musa had a crush.

“It’s weird isn’t it… if not just sad. That we’ve had so little love in our lives that now we’re doubting what we have.” Riven muttered under his breath, letting his head fall back as he sighed.

“Yeah… should we… do something about it?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know.”

Riven raised his head, inspecting her before going to join her on the small couch, sitting besides her.

“Should we kiss?” He asked, it sounded like he was asking himself just as much as he was asking her.

Flora considered, “I mean… could be like… sealing the marriage pact?” She took a deep breath, shaking off her nerves, this was her person, worst case scenario, it might be a bit gross, “Okay. I’m in if you’re in.”

Riven nodded along, “Okay.”

He leaned down to meet her halfway. It was a hesitant, yet gentle kiss, soft and slow as they both tried to figure out how they felt about it.

Seconds passed and they pulled apart, both leaning against the couch, staring at the wall before them.

“I mean… it didn’t feel… wrong.” She started hesitantly.

“But it didn’t feel right either.”

“Exactly.”

They glanced at each other before laughing light-heartily. Blushing out of embarrassment and awkwardness.

“If things were different… maybe then.” He said after a long minute.

She shrugged, bumping her shoulder against his, “Maybe in another life.”

He snorted, “Yeah, maybe in another life.”

[kiisaes]

I still think it's really crazy that Horikoshi did Midoriya so dirty by having him murder the boy he wanted to save, and, now that he's lost his Quirk, is stuck being lonely for like eight years feeling like a husk of his former self, only feeling like himself again when he gets an Iron Man suit. I'm not a big Dekuhead, but I'm asking around to see what Deku fans think of the writer's choices concerning his conclusion. I'd love to hear your thoughts!! did you like this? did you not? why? etc

as a dekuhead, i agree that killing shigaraki was confusing and i still don't know what the thought process is behind that. like, saving him has always been deku's plan and everything was pointing towards shigaraki rehabilitation but then ... we didn't get it???

so yes, shigaraki should have lived (it aligns with deku's goals and the narrative's goals) and toga also should have lived for similar reasons. i also agree that deku's conclusion should have been expanded upon more — i really wanted to see how killing shigaraki, losing his quirk, etc. truly affected deku, and we were kinda left hanging. but also i sorta just equate that with lack of time / horikoshi being rushed to finish his manga

but i fundamentally disagree with the rest of your ask. it feels like you've developed this opinion based on the 430 leaks and not the actual official chapter; it's just misleading. which i don't blame you for, because the mha leaks scene is fucking awful and has ruined an entire reader base's reading comprehension, which has consequently been perpetuated by the fandom

"is stuck being lonely for like eight years feeling like a husk of his former self"

it's not stated if he feels like a husk of his former self or not. he lost his quirk, true, but he verbally says he's ok with it (ofa was like a dream that he got to live out), and never shows that he's particularly depressed or upset about being quirkless again. i feel like this specific idea is very fandom-coded. everyone was drawing deku sad as fuck for losing his quirk but canonically he appears at most wistful, and normally just neutral. it is what it is, yknow? after all he says himself that he was originally quirkless anyway, so not much has changed.

also he mentions feeling lonely, but i hate this idea that deku has been lonely for 8 straight years. people have twisted this into meaning his friends ghosted him after high school, but like ... how would that even make sense. deku's friends love him so much, will fight at the world's end with him, and he changed their lives for the better. they would absolutely not ghost him. they just canonically don't meet up much anymore, because OBVIOUSLY, when you don't live in the same building as your high school classmates anymore you are NOT going to meet up as much as before. this is just how adulting is. you have responsibilities and jobs and lives now. people hate to hear it but it's the most realistic part of this ending.

"only feeling like himself again when he gets an Iron Man suit"

again, we have no idea if deku didn't "feel like himself" when he was just teaching. and this idea that he's not is fueled in some weird anti-teacher belief that i'm seeing a lot of, now that deku pursued education in his future. in my opinion teaching is a very fitting career for him; he's been inspiring and helping his classmates as a student, and he loves quirk analysis and gushing to others about their quirks.

he's literally training a new generation of heroes, he gets to work alongside pros (such as aizawa), he's constantly learning more about new quirks ... why is this not the deku we've known and loved? what about this feels wrong? just because he's not a stereotypical hero on the scene, he's suddenly a worse version of himself?

mha has drilled into our heads so much atp that being quirkless doesn't mean you can't be a hero. deku was quirkless his whole life but he had the spirit of a hero, and even when other heroes quit during the apocalyptic era between wars, deku was still out there, doing what he could. he didn't need the money. he didn't need the fame. he didn't need the recognition or the credit, even. he just wanted to help people. and being a teacher is one of THE most directly helpful jobs you could take.

from what i can tell, people who complained about teacher deku and "peaking during high school" and "working a dead-end minimum wage job" were all from the western fandom. i have not seen a single japanese fan complain to this degree. it's definitely a cultural difference but also i think they just read better than us. UA is a prestigious school with crazy name recognition and all teachers there are registered pro heroes. even though deku isn't technically a pro, they recognized him as one anyway, which allowed him to work there in the first place. like hello. over everything we should be grateful he didn't become a cop.

the way i interpreted him getting his suit was that

his friends love him so much they pooled their money all in secret just to give him another chance at actual hero work, even though they know deku's content with his teaching job. probably also so they can see him more, now that their schedules might align better

even though he's quirkless, he is still symbolically — and literally — a hero. turning society's preconceived opinions of quirkless people on its head

it had nothing to do with making him feel like himself again. he was doing fine. the suit is just a (very expensive, labor of love) perk.

and before anyone complains about him "receiving handouts" and that "he just lazed around for years until his friends picked him back up with the suit", SHUT THE FUCK UP. he's done so much for them that they felt it right to return the favor, especially to the one guy they know who earned it the most. also - he deserved a break from all of the shit he went through; why should it Not take him 8 years? do you KNOW how much pain he suffered? that amount of trauma lasts a lifetime. all of you SHUT UP.

as a dekuhead, i think his conclusion as a teacher who also works as a pro hero is awesome and cool and i see no qualms with that. my main concern is that we should've gotten more of a conclusion to deku's ARC and its connection to the story, but regarding his future 8 years later i'm totally fine with it. he's living out his dreams, working with heroes, studying quirks, and keeping in touch with the ones he loves. that is epic as hell

[ghost-bxrd]

Hello. In the final end notes of ‘What You’re Longing For (you claim to abhor)’ you mention the goons picking up the wrong clues from the Entire Mess of the final chapter. Is there any chance you’d be willing to expand more on that?

Additionally, I find myself curious: in the time after the fic, would Talia ever kidnap Jason for a bit of family bonding time(probably murdering dudes in the middle of nowhere or something, but still.)

Thank you for your time,

Desire

Hi! I’m not sure if this is a follow up request you’d like to feature in Ghost Stories so I’ll just list some of my thoughts here 💚

So Dave, Jones and McKenzie are a very very tight knit little group that established itself after being hired by the Red Hood. Despite working as goons, they each have their own moral compass that perfectly aligns with Hood’s rules. Consequently, they ended up being Jason’s most loyal and trusted underlings.

Jason didn’t intend to get attached to the three but he did and as a result let slip some personal info form time to time. Jones, Dave and McKenzie all made a game out of collecting clues to Hood’s real identity and background to the point where they’d sit down after work and pool their information. They’ve got a pinboard and everything lol.

Sadly Jason’s life was depressing af for the most part so the things he accidentally mentioned didn’t paint a very pretty picture. And when he used typical teenage slang one too many times Dave correctly inferred that their boss is much younger than any of them originally thought.

So in the end they had hundreds of little clues that all added up to the following (in their mind):

1. Red Hood is actually anywhere from 20-28 years old (+/- a couple years) and not a fourty-something rogue with plans of grandeur

2. Hood was abused as a kid

3. Hood hates Batman

4. Hood hates Robin and Nightwing but not as much as Batman

5. Hood hates Robin but still mother hens him like crazy and seems reluctant to let him go back to the Bat every time

6. Hood is a young guy with better training and tactical thinking than a trained navy seals soldier

7. Hood is intimately aware of how the Bats operate,l fight, and think

Conclusion: Batman used to train Hood and was also the one who abused him—> he’s concerned the same thing is now happening to Robin.

So yeah, that’s pretty much the train of thought they’re having right now. So while Dave, Jones and McKenzie definitely won’t shoot Robin (or Nightwing), they’ll definitely try to gun down Batman.

At least until Jason remembers to retract the order lol. (After which they reluctantly stop shooting at Batman but still not-so-subtly drop hints that they’d absolutely have Hood’s back if he ever needs help with the asshole. Jason doesn’t know what all the fuss is about all of a sudden.)

As for the “would Talia ever kidnap Jason for family time” question:

Yes. Absolutely. And if Talia was busy Ra’s would show up and do it instead.

The al Ghuls adopted Jason into the family. No takebacksies. And while they think Bruce’s overprotectiveness of Jason is amusing (and totally warranted given Jason’s penchant for getting himself into trouble) they draw the line at being barred from seeing their precious sons/grandsons.

So yeah, Bruce and Dick have to deal with Damian and Jason disappearing for a couple days every two months at least.

The first time it happened Bruce, Dick and Tim all lost their minds with panic and when Jason and Dami returned it was to a frantic batfam and the entire JLA in Gotham, on the hunt for Hood and his assassin baby brother ksksks

[lizzy-calaxio]

Ok, well, this didn't turn out like I originally planned, but have some late transition lizzy/krile

Chirin downs his third drink within the half hour at the Forgotten Knight. He drunkenly feels his horns, and slumps down onto the counter, “Another please.”

Gibrillont looks at the au ra, looks a little concerned, but relinquishes another full drink.

Chirin downs it immediately, his tail whipping back and forth.

A voice startles him, “Whoa, hey, watch the tail dude.”

He glances down towards the voice, “Oh, hey Krile.” for a flash he looks sad, but he swiftly hides it by asking for another drink.

Krile looks up at the counter, then at Chirin. He sighs, and lifts the lalafell onto the counter next to him.

“So what’s up, you seem more down than normal.”

Chirin looks away, a hurricane of emotions swell within him but he quashes them swiftly, “Ah, just, the everything.” he gestures vaguely around himself.

Krile’s echo tells her his intentions – he’s hiding something. She tilts her head and examines him, trying to get a gauge on what the problem is.

“I’ve also been thinking about my family, I miss them. I could be fishing with my brother on a warm beach right now…” his sentence doesn’t quite end so much as trails off in thought.

“Why not visit them?”

He shakes his head, “Nah, I’m needed here. If I just keep my head down, and keep trudging forward, eventually I can go back with a clear conscience.”

Krile gets the feeling that this isn’t the actual issue, “Is there anything else going on...?”

Chirin looks at Krile, the lantern nearby flickering, causing the light to catch her eye in a very particular way – Chirin begins blushing, but shoves the feelings down.

“N-no.”

It’s unconvincing.

Krile scooches closer to him, “C’mon, you can tell me anything. I promise.”

Chirin glances at the empty glasses around him, he’s pretty sure there’s six glasses, though he doesn’t remember ordering that many. A deep twisting thought in the back of his mind nags and pulls at him, but he shakes it away.

He sighs, “I dunno. I’m unhappy. I just wish….” a thought almost spills over, but it vanishes before it can, “I wish things went differently in my life. That’s all. Maybe next life I can do things right.”

Krile looks confused, her echo isn’t helping much here and she can’t interpret the vague thoughts spilling out from her friend. She presses forward with her desire to help, “Well, what things do you wish were different?”

Chirin’s eyes glaze over, his limbal ring glowing brightly in the dark bar. A profound sorrow reflects in his face, as he thinks he grows more depressed, “I dunno. I…” his voice cracks, and his throat chokes at the words, “I...I…..I feel guilty.” the continuing wavering sound in his voice betrays any concept of him having a cool demeanor, “I have feelings for you. I shouldn’t, I know you don’t have an interest in...people like me….I…” he trails off, his head laying on the counter, tears welling up in his eyes, “I wish I wasn’t born…”

Krile’s face mirrors his sorrow, his intentions spilling forth and into her mind. A single thought grabs hold though, that last sentence isn’t finished.

Chirin lightly sobs, before continuing, “I wish I wasn’t born a boy.”

Krile gently runs her fingers through Chirin’s hair, unsure of what to say. She glances at the glasses around him, and is unsure if it’s the alcohol, or his true feelings.

The two sit in silence for an eon, before Krile speaks, “Hey, why don’t we go for a walk?”

Chirin nods, and stands upright, his entire body betraying how depressed he truly is.

As they step outside, they’re met with the gentle glow of moonlight reflecting off of fresh snow. Light snow falls, and Chirin tightens his jacket.

Krile puts her hood on, stifling her echo, “Ok. So, you don’t want to be a boy. Talk about those feelings.”

Chirin shifts uncomfortably, and starts walking. Krile keeps up, eyeing his tail to ensure she doesn’t get hit. He regrets saying what he said, but is thankful Krile doesn’t hate him for confessing his feelings.

“I feel wrong. Every day I wake up crying because I’m wrong. I wish I had been born correctly.” he doesn’t know what he’s saying, the words just spill out like an overflowing cup of coffee.

Krile hesitates, but reaches up to grab his hand, unsure of what to say.

Chirin continues, “I’m too tall, too muscular, too masculine, my horns are wrong, my face is wrong, everything is wrong and bad and and and….” his voice chokes, he’s unable to continue as he starts crying.

The two sit down on a bench, in utter silence as the snow muffles any traveling sounds. Chirin’s light sobs are the only sound that breaks the silence, as Krile rubs his back.

Chirin composes himself enough to whisper, “I just wish I was a girl.”

Krile thinks about how to help, “I...I mean, you still can be?”

Chirin looks at Krile as if she had four heads, she actually only has two. He mentally scolds himself for getting this drunk. He wants to take everything back. Undo this night.

Krile continues, “I’ve heard of a magic potion, that could change your body. Why not use that?”

Chirin blinks, trying to process the information, “What?”

“Fantasia, I think it’s called. A very rare, very expensive potion, that when drank will transform your body overnight.”

“…..WHAT.” his entire mood turns on a dime.

Krile lightly smiles, “I think I could probably procure one for you, if this is truly what you want?”

Chirin grabs Krile, “I do! I mean,” he lets go, nervously, “I...Yes, I would want.”

Krile giggles a little in response, “Oh! Do you have a new name you’d like to use?”

Chirin thinks for a couple minutes, “Elizabeth. I think that’s a pretty name.”

“Elizabeth, huh? Lizzy suits you, I think.”

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I don't want to contribute to paying for furniture for the house?

1/3/2024, Names changed. Sorry, this is a little long.

I (26) live with three roommates: Kay (22) who is my sister, Sam (22) who is Kay's high school sweetheart and fiancé, and Andy (25) who is Kay and Sam's best friend. All of us are autistic, queer, and neurodivergent in some way or another.

Background info; Kay, Sam, and Andy had had plans to move in together for several years with Andy moving cross country to do so. Kay and I both moved out of our parents house within a month of each other in Summer 2022, with Kay and Sam moving in together, and me moving into an apartment by myself. Early 2023 due to issues with my apartment and landlord and being unable/unwilling to stay there past my lease when it was up in six months, with some encouragement from our mother Kay asked if I wanted to move in with the three of them because Kay and Sam's lease was up around the same time mine was and they were already planning on getting a bigger place to live with Andy when he got here. Due to the aforementioned apartment troubles and having a hard time mentally living alone for the first time, I accepted. We found a small house and the four of us moved in Summer 2023.

Now we've butted heads a good bit the last couple months (especially me and Andy because we had barely known each other before moving in together and we have very different personalities), including a few very loud fights, but we have thus far managed to eventually talk it out and work it out and kept things mostly under control. I admit, there have been times where I was definitely the asshole in situations, but I've acknowledged that, apologized, and tried to improve my behavior since then. Anyway, this ask isn't about all those times.

A lot of my issues in the household stem from my depression and lack of motivation to get things done. A big contributing factor to that is that I am painfully aware I wasn't part of their original plan, and that leads to me not feeling wanted as part of this house. The three of them often do things without me like playing D&D, and hanging out/going fun places without me, while things I want to do with all of them just kinda never happens, like playing a video game or board game with one of them, or going out somewhere fun I want to go. Some of me not being included is completely justified like Kay and Sam's date nights, and some things while they do still sting a bit to be excluded from make sense why (like their D&D games that can get very NSFW, and I'm a sex-repulsed asexual. also being Kay's sister would make it extremely awkward regardless of my sexuality. I only found out about the NSFW nature of their games two weeks ago though), but certain things it doesn't feel like as good a reason for me to not be included or it's not actually communicated to me why I'm not invited to be part of something.

A REALLY big thing that contributed to these feelings I have was the day we got the keys to our house, as Kay and Andy were showing it to me, Kay told me "Just so you know, this isn't permanent. You're going to get your own place again eventually" with a soft deadline of two years because that's when another of their friends graduates college and might need a place to stay after. Over the last few months we have had several conversations about my feelings of being unwanted and Kay has apologized saying that what she meant that day came out wrong. What she meant by that statement was they all want to help me become more independent so that I will be able to move out and live on my own again one day when I'm ready since the first time didn't go so well. They were not/are not planning to kick me out, and the other friend moving in is just an idea that may not even come to fruition anyway. Even if it was partially a misunderstanding and there is no set time I need to be out of the house by, knowing that there is an end in sight has made it much harder for me to settle in because I don't feel like I can get settled since I'll just have to leave again at some point anyway even if that time is literal years away. Sorry if that doesn't make sense but that's the best way I can phrase it.

With all that background out of the way, I'll get back on track now. Kay and Andy have spent months planning on how to decorate the house and want to make the whole first floor (kitchen, living room, and shared craft space in the front room) themed like a medieval tavern. I haven't been able to give much input on how the house gets decorated outside of my own room. I've been trying to at least make my bedroom feel more homey since it's where I spend a lot of my time, but the common areas are much harder for me to feel comfortable and like I belong in because I don't have much control/input in how they will look. Which again, I know I'm not going to be here super long term, so it makes sense but it still sucks.

Now onto the actual situation here. There is a dining table set that Kay and Andy picked out that costs over $400 that Kay said on 12/25 she wants us all four to pitch in to get for the household for her birthday in a couple months. I am hesitant to contribute to this set, because I am not going to live with them forever. Obviously I pay my part to the household. I pay my fair share of rent, utilities, and food (though I will often make mini grocery runs throughout the week and I rarely if ever ask for money I spent back because I feel awkward about asking for money from any of them). I have already contributed towards furniture for the house but that is either things that are explicitly and exclusively mine despite household use (a tv stand I already had, a bookshelf I bought to display my things) and will come with me when I move out, or something that was a gift for someone else but still not ridiculously expensive (a $40 secondhand curio cabinet the rest of us got for Kay as an early Christmas present and various other small decorations for around the house).

There was another interaction today that has me a little upset. We've been thinking of getting a second TV for the living room so we can play online co-op games together. Who pays for the TV, determines who gets to keep the new one and who takes the old one when I leave. If the three of them want to keep the new TV, they're going to split the cost and I get the old one, however if I want the new TV I will have to pay for the whole thing myself. 1 person vs 3 people paying for something just feels unfair to me.

But the dining set feels different because it's a lot of money and I won't get to take any part of it with me when I eventually leave. With the TV I'd at least get to keep it. I feel guilty about not wanting to help pay for it, especially because Kay has said she wants it as a birthday gift, but if it almost feels like I'm just buying furniture for someone else's house. Honestly, I'll probably end up sucking it up and contributing anyway because I really don't like confrontation and tend to keep my feelings to myself anyway, but I just want to know other people's opinion on the situation.

Money has been a growing issue for me lately. I'm the only one with a stable, salaried job (barely pays above minimum wage though so it's not like I'm rolling funds), while Kay and Sam are hourly and Andy is between jobs right now. Like I said, I feel awkward about asking for money from any of them. Honestly I don't mind paying a little extra here and there to help out since I'm not much help with the cooking and cleaning, but the amount I have been contributing with no compensation has been eating away at my savings the last few months and I've been keeping silent about it because I don't want to make them feel guilty about it and make it awkward.

TLDR; I'm insecure and have trouble feeling wanted around by my roommates, and am expected to eventually move out. WIBTA if I don't want to help buy a dining set for the household because I won't get to take any part of it with me when I move out?

PS- If it's not too much trouble, could you please tag @aita-roommates-furniture so I am notified when this gets posted? Tumblr won't let me submit asks from a sideblog. If not, no worries! I'll just keep an eye out for it

What are these acronyms?

[anamericangirl]

I'm sure you've gotten this question before so I hope I'm not bothering you and I apologize if this isn't articulated very well.

What do you think of Project 2025?

I've looked into it and it seems that the consensus on the right is that it's a Think Tank document and the consensus on the left is that democracy will 100% end and we're not going to have any rights anymore.

The main reason I'm asking this is because my best friend is center-left and is genuinely convinced America is going to collapse to the point where she's considering moving somewhere else entirely. She's making herself paranoid and depressed over it. I've tried my best to comfort her but ever since she's found out about it, she's been spiraling into full panic mode and it's all she talks about. I'm sad and nervous for her and I don't know what to do.

I consider myself center-right politically. I personally don't think our rights are going to be taken away, but I will admit that her paranoia is rubbing off on me a little due to how much she talks about it, and how much it clearly scares her. I'm completely lost on how to calm her down since she originally brought it up out of nowhere (and I'm not very good at dealing with stressed people, to be honest - I've never seen her like this). I'm trying to remain neutral when I talk to her purely because the truth is that we have no idea what's going to happen in the future, and if something does, we'll deal with it (which is what I told her when she first told me about it). Because she's already made up her mind that this country is doomed, she hasn't considered any alternative possibility and I haven't even tried to say anything else other than what I previously mentioned. It's more or less, "Wait for the future to pan out (because I know you won't listen if I even suggest that this isn't going to happen").

I might get flak from people but from what I've read on your blog, you seem to know what you're talking about, so I was hoping you had some advice? Thank you, either way.

Hi you’re not bothering me at all :)

You are correct that our rights are not going to be taken away. And even if Project 2025 was a plan to take rights away from people it doesn’t matter because Project 2025 isn’t happening. It’s nothing more than a conservative wish list that the left is creating a boogeyman out of because they have nothing else. Trump isn’t associated with it and it’s not his agenda.

Your friend is paranoid and freaking out about it because she is just listening to and giving in to the relentless fear mongering of the media and democrat party. But I bet she has no actual knowledge of Project 2025. I bet she has never looked it up, never read it, never taken the time to see what it is or even checked out Trump’s agenda to verify that it’s not aligned in any way. Because anyone who is scared of it isn’t doing any research about it. They are just sharing and repeating headlines.

People who aren’t freaking out about it aren’t freaking out about because we’ve looked into it and immediately saw it was nothing more than a wish list headed by the Heritage Foundation and it’s not Trump’s agenda that he will implement if he wins the election.

And if you pay attention, you will notice leftists are the only ones even talking about it and if they stopped it would go away completely. They are just using it as a distraction to try and keep people from focusing on just how bad they are.

Leftists are always saying democracy is ending and the only thing that can save it is voting for them. It’s their new thing. They have to try and scare people into voting for them because even they can’t think of any actual good things they bring to the table or how their policies will benefit the American people so they have to lie and pretend things like Project 2025 are out to get everyone when Project 2025 has nothing to do with either candidate.

I am sorry that you are in such a difficult situation with your friend. It’s hard to reason with a person who has let themselves go to the point where they are so scared of a complete nothing burger that they are panicking and genuinely afraid of losing rights.

And it’s incredibly easy for them to do because they can just say anything they want is “Project 2025” and people will believe them because they don’t bother to fact check.

It can be hard not to get nervous when the people around you are so paranoid and I think it’s wonderful that you are trying to calm your friend down and help her see that we’re not doomed like she has been led to believe.

You might not be able to get through to her at this point but I would encourage you to look at (and encourage her to look at) Project 2025 completely independently of whatever the media says about it so you can form your own opinions. Look at the agenda for yourself and ask what is so bad about it? What’s the worst thing on it? How is it going to destroy “democracy”? What rights is it going to take away? I don’t expect anyone to sit there and read the entire thing because it’s like 900 pages but if people are going to be freaking out about it they should at least be willing to take a look at what they have been convinced is the end of the world.

And then go look at Trump’s agenda and see that it’s not the same thing. Trump’s not talking about it or promoting it and it’s not his plan. So exactly what is there to be afraid of?

[eldritchcreatureofwords]

What would have happened, in your opinion, if, during their reunion showed in The Circus, Blitz didn't flirt sexually with Stolas, but the two actually talked and reconnected normally?

I actually think the plan for Blitz originally was this- I think he intended to try and bring Stolas on board with backing/supporting IMP at first, but couldn't get his attention or through his staff and then everything kind of went haywire and Blitz, king of seizing opportunities where he sees them and very much the kind of person top go well fuck that royal rich bitch anyway, I'll get mine just kind of rolled with what he thought would get him his way. I think had it gone that way, it would change the order in which events happened but not necessarily what happened. I think Stolas would have been cautiously open to the idea of supporting an old friend's business by lending him the book, especially if they reconnected and were friendly again first. They likely would have still formed some type of deal wherein Blitz returned the book once a month. As he's not cheating with Stolas at this point in this little au of sorts, he'd have a better idea of how shit his life is; he'd get a better, more up close look at Stella's abusive behavior, Stolas just shutting down to handle it, how young he was when he was forced to have Octavia, the drinking, maybe even the depression meds. He'd be able to be closer and more involved, get a better look at Stolas's life then he's able to as Stolas's affair partner. I feel like that would very much trigger Blitz's protective instincts and need to be needed; he'd be ferociously protective of Stolas and probably Octavia, too, eventually.

I feel like this would go both ways- Blitz would have a better awareness and understanding of Stolas, and Stolas would no longer see him as just the mysterious, cool, badass figure that creeps in through his window to ravish him. He, too, would be a little more grounded, a little more real- Stolas would be able to get a better grasp on Blitz's low opinion of himself, a better foothold on how Imps in general are treated and how hard Blitz is trying to break out of that role. Stolas would have an advocate at least but I do eventually see this leading to a renewed crush on the strong, fearless, independent imp who he already had a thing for, and they'd end up falling into an affair again, and from there I feel like it would play fairly close to canon; but with better communication and less misunderstandings to be had, as both would be starting from a more solid point then they are in the series.

[pianistbynight]

waning summer days

i cheated and recorded in sections, then spliced them together because i can't get a single clean take. if it's not me making a mistake, it's noise surrounding me. this way, the pressure was lessened and i think i did better (far from "perfect" tho) and it was less frustrating.

thursday | 08/15/24

no piano today. i'm tired. but i did read more of sweet bean paste and continued to work on the databases course. today was a bit chaotic, so i couldn't get 2h of studying in, but if i sleep early, i can maybe hopefully wake up earlier to work on it.

friday | 08/16/24

tried to play piano but then stopped because i got tired sooner than i expected. (also tried out a voice recorder app to record the piano audio instead of my phone camera but didn't like it...too much treble.) i finished 1 subsection of the databases course. caught up with @zzzzzestforlife. listened to some lofi and watched some youtube.

i'm trying to get myself in the mood to prep for the upcoming school year 😮‍💨 i...find myself dreading more and more each coming school year for some reason. ... it's not the work i fear. i know i can do it well but it takes so much of me. and i wonder what i'm doing this for. because i don't have all the stepping stones laid out yet. 😮‍💨 i need to work on that, so i'm going to sleep now so i can have more energy to continue doing this tomorrow. good night.

saturday | 08/17/24

i had a much more ambitious plan originally, but the only solo activity i actually had time and energy for was journaling because coming back to my hometown reminded me of and clarified some memories and opinions i had formed long ago, how they've shaped who i am now... the rest of the time i spent with family with real conversation for the first time in a while, so that was nice.

sunday | 08/18/24

sigh. i have never felt like i belonged in my former hometown and the loneliness is striking much stronger now. i was so tired i couldn't do much today except start filling in the YearCompass because who said the new year had to begin in january lol. i'm glad today was a chill day spent at my temporary home.

i will try to sleep early tonight. hopefully i won't wake up in between and be unable to fall back asleep again.

monday | 08/19/24

today was my first day of passable sleep quality in the last couple days. i woke up later than i expected. yet i still didn't feel like doing anything. i forced myself to do some duolingo for cheap dopamine, and later in the afternoon, i attempted to get through 1 more subsection of the databases course but couldn't focus. instead, i researched how to apply to take courses at another university in my area since there are some interesting courses there that aren't available at the one i attend. at night, i practiced the last bit of the clementi sonata and tried to record the whole thing but couldn't get a good one. i'm too tensed and distracted. i need to practice playing while relaxed, focusing only on what's relevant in the moment.

review U1 japanese, start hiragana practice ✅

work on databases course 🟨

practice piano ✅

tuesday | 08/20/24

fill in the YearCompass bc i'm too tired to journal unprompted and i want to be filled with hope for this school year instead of constantly drained and increasingly discouraged, disappointed, and depressed (why do so many negative things start with "d"? even the saddest songs are in d minor...)

practice playing clementi sonata while relaxed throughout and focused only on what's currently relevant

DATABASES COURSEEE - finish 4/13 subsections ✅ (ended up finishing 2 and starting a 3rd...this is harder than i thought it'd be but it'll be good for me to keep going...)

wednesday | 08/21/24

i don't even remember what happened. probably because i wasn't very productive. i was unusually angry and moody. i tried to record a single clean take and kept failing. i merely inched forward in the databases course. it was a day full of frustrating but necessary interruptions. it was tiring. i can't wait to go home.

thursday | 08/22/24

recorded the clementi sonata in sections...with more time and energy, i probably could've done better. almost 50% through the databases course. feeling a little better today than yesterday but always easily tired. this might be my last summer-themed post for the year as i'm already in an "autumnal mood." 🍂😅 i'll see you later either here or on my sideblog @studentbyday 🙂

[petrichor-idyllic]

OPEN WOUNDS

Alright, alright, I just know people are gonna get mad at me but I'm having Maze Runner burn out, and the requests I have are throwing me through a loop right now lmao. (Requests are still closed.) So, I thought I'd write something different to get me out of my hole- my own idea. Yeah, I know, Petri writing their own original plot? Mad.

Hope I've got at least one OBX fan in my audience.

MASTERLIST | JJ MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: Fem! Reader x JJ Maybank. Enemies to lovers.

You and JJ have a tense relationship - you always have. But, both of you coming from rough home lives, you've both resorted to the Chateau and John B as your saviour. Neither of you talk about it, but you know more about JJ than you let on. Though, tonight is the night. With John B out with Sarah and JJ's dad out of town, you finally have the Chateau to yourself - until things don't go quite as planned.

WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, themes of physical abuse, generally depressing subject matter, no depiction of actual violence just the aftermath but still trigger warning for abuse. Also some friends references.

Ah.

The sweet relief of silence.

Between yours and JJ's bickering, the constant string of girls flooding through the Chateau, the parties, the drinking and John B's terrible music taste - the Chateau is normally a chaotic bundle of angsty teenagers. But not tonight.

Tonight, John B is on a date, Pope and Kie are at their respective homes, and JJ's father is out of town, resulting in him going home for his own peace. Probably, because he doesn't actually want to be stuck in the house with just you.

But that's fine by you.

You're not really sure why you and JJ hate each other so much. You swear blind that he started it, but he says otherwise. You were childhood friends with Pope, and JJ with John B - so when John B befriended Pope, you both just ended up tagging along. Now, you're a certified Pogue, and you're close with everyone, even Sarah.

Apart from JJ.

John B says you're just too similar to get along, Pope thinks it's because you're both too stubborn, Kie reckons it's because there's some underlying tension you both refuse to admit. But it doesn't really matter why, in your opinion.

And Kie is clearly wrong.

Though, when shit hit the fan at your place and you decided to seek refuge at the Chateau, you kinda sorta forgot that JJ was there for the same reasons.

You've tried, okay? You have tried to get along with him. To make things less awkward, if just for the sake of the other Pogues more than anything else.

But it just doesn't work.

JJ knows how to push your buttons, and no matter how calm and collected you try to be, most of your interactions end in an argument.

But not tonight.

Because he isn't here.

You lay, spawled on the couch, wearing a long worn band tee as a dress as you scroll through your phone, an episode of friends playing on the TV in the background. You think it's the one where Chandler gets handcuffed to a filing cabinet - but you're really not paying attention, nor do you remember the actual name of the episode. You mindlessly dive your hand into the bag of potato chips resting on your stomach, laughing at some TikTok Pope had sent you.

Between work, school, and arguing with a pretty surfer boy, you very rarely get time to actually just chill out and relax. You've not even bothered to get up and turn the lights on, the thin shine of the moonlight and the electronic flicker from the TV being the only things stopping you from walking into something when you eventually stand up.

Not that you intend on standing up anytime soon.

Things are going well. You might even be able to have a shower without JJ thinking he's hilarious and stealing your clothes. Or maybe even listen to music without him blasting his own music even louder.

Life is good, sometimes.

Just as you're smiling to yourself about how good your evening is, the door is violently yanked open and then slammed again, scaring the shit out of you.

"Jesus!" You jump, looking over the back of the sofa, it's too dark to make him out properly, but his trademark red cap and locks of blond escaping his choice of head wear give you a pretty good hint. "Maybank? The hell? Aren't you meant to be at home for once?"

You're too angry that he's interrupted your pleasant evening to realise that he's in clear distress.

"Fuck off, (Y/N)." He spits, leaving you in a state of shock. That's blunt and forward, even for him.

"What-?"

"Leave me alone." He says sharply, going into the spare room where he sleeps and slamming the door.

You sit there in a bubble of confusion for a couple of seconds before huffing and returning to your original position on the couch. "Whatever."

Your peace only lasts a few seconds as you hear a loud crash from inside the room. You sit up, silently, grabbing the remote and turning the TV off to see if you heard that correctly.

There's more crashing and banging as undoubtedly JJ has some kind of rage induced meltdown. That's when your phone buzzes. You open it, reading the message:

Pope

I thought Luke was out of town???

You

Huh???? He is??

Pope

I just saw him???

Went to the corner store and he was smoking outside

You

????

I thought JJ said he was gone for the week??

Pope

Is JJ at the Chateau??

I can't get ahold of him

You

Yeh

Burst in about five minutes ago

Pope

Can you check on him for me

You

Are you fr rn?

Pope:

Pls

You groan, tossing your phone to the side as you stand up. You stop in your tracks when you realise that the noises have stopped. The house is now completely and utterly silent.

Which is somehow more concerning.

"Oi, Maybank, you good?" You half-shout, earning no response as you pick up your phone from the sofa - just in case you have to call John B or Pope in a panic.

You get no respond, slowly walking towards the room. "JJ? Hey - you okay?" You knock on the door.

"Leave me alone." JJ's voice breaks as you hear his voice through the door, and you feel your stomach sink.

You don't particularly like JJ, sure, he's like, the hottest man you've ever seen, and he is genuinely kind of funny sometimes. That doesn't matter; you don't like him.

But you can empathise with him. And he's Pope's friend.

And it doesn't take a genuis to put the dots together about what's happened.

"JJ." You sigh. "I'm coming in."

To your surprise, he doesn't respond, so you slowly push the door open.

The room is a mess, clothes are scattered everywhere, a lamp's broken, the bed sheets are a mess and the pillow is across the room, slumped against a wall. It looks like he's thrown anything he managed to get his hands on. JJ sits on the floor, his knees pulled up to his chest, he stares at the floor, one hand in his messy blond locks, the other resting on his knee, red cap in his hand.

He doesn't look up as you walk in, his hair hiding his face along with the dimly lit room. Silently, you move, walking to sit next to him. You leave enough distance between you to make neither of you uncomfortable.

"I told you to leave me alone." He mumbles, not even looking at you.

You hesitate for a second, sighing.

"...my step dad was an asshole. When things got bad, I'd lose my shit and scream at anyone who got too close, screaming about how I wanted to be on my own. ...But, all I ever really wanted was for someone to push past all that and act like they cared about me."

JJ doesn't move, or even look up, so you keep talking.

"You can hate me, and tease me, and throw shit, and say you hate everyone and this whole shitty island and whatever you want to say to get it out your system - I get it. But I'm not going anywhere. I'm not leaving you, Maybank - so suck it up."

JJ is still silent, but his hand falls from his hair, loosely resting on his knee as he finally looks at you. You look at him out of the corner of your eye, and try not to visibly react.

JJ already has a black eye forming, a cut on his cheek and blood smeared under her nose. There's also blood staining the back of his hand, probably from wiping his nose.

"... you gonna put our petty differences aside for five minutes and let me fix that?" You ask; reacting dramatically or with pity is just going to piss him off even more.

JJ hesitates, but eventually nods, sighing. "Alright... but I don't wanna talk about it."

"I wasn't gonna ask." You stand up, offering him a hand, that he doesn't take, before he brushes past you and out the room.

That's about right.

He sits on the sofa as you get the appropriate means from the first aid box. You walk back to him, looking at him for a second before you step forward and touch his face for him to look up. He immediately flinches, pulling himself away, making you huff.

"Dude, I've gotta touch you if I'm gonna help you." JJ mumbles something you don't quite catch, but he lets you lift his face. You lightly dab under his nose, wiping the blood away before moving to the cut on his cheek.

He hisses as you press an alcohol wipe to his cheek.

"Sorry," you mumble.

"Could've warned me."

"Figured you wouldn't be such a pussy."

JJ simply rolls his eyes at this as you continue to nurse to him. Then you grab some glue strips, pressing down on one side of the cut and pulling the skin up to reach the other, tightly holding the cut together so it leaves less of a scar.

"Why are you helping me?" The question catches you off-guard, making you look him in the eye.

And you suddenly become very aware of how close you are. JJ isn't the goofy kid who always had a tooth missing and dirt on his clothes that you grew up with anymore. He's objectively gorgeous - there's a reason there's a seemingly endless amount of girls in the Chateau when he's around.

His bright ocean blue eyes lock with yours, and for a second, you understand. You understand all of those girls you judged and made fun of for falling for the blond's charm.

I mean look at him. How could they not?

And now is the worst moment to realise that.

You stand between his legs, bodies close, you're only wearing a thin lounge shirt and JJ's hands rest on his open legs, almost like he's fighting the instinct to put them on your waist.

You clear your throat, ripping your eyes away from his hypnotic gaze. He notices the shift, raising his eyebrow as you finally answer his question.

"I think I've already explained that."

He shrugs. "Yeah, I guess, but, like, you don't have to do this. Ain't you meant to hate me?"

"I only hate you because you hated me first."

"I didn't."

"Did too."

"Whatever." He pauses, eyes following your every move as you brush hair out of your face, grabbing his jaw.

"Stop moving."

"It hurts."

"Cope."

You place another gluestrip on his cheek. He opens his mouth to speak, but quickly shuts it again, making you curious. "What?"

"What, what?"

"You were gonna say something." You hook a finger under his chin, angling his face so you can see what you're doing better.

"No, I wasn't."

"Alright, fine - you weren't then."

The silence around you becomes more tense, and then JJ sighs. "I don't- I don't actually hate you."

You pause, looking at him, eyebrows furrowed.

"I mean, you're annoying as shit," he continues, "but... you're the only person that seems to be able to put up with my shit. So... yeah, yanno."

"So... you don't hate me?" You pull your hands away from his face, and he shakes his head, shrugging before running his fingers through his hair.

"No... you help around here - I mean, the Chateau would be trashed if you weren't around, and you help Pope out. And, I mean, he cares about you, for some reason, so you can't be all bad."

You scoff at this. "Yeah, yeah - you'll need some ice for that eye." He rolls his eyes in response as you return to the kitchen, bringing back a bag of frozen peas, which he presses to his eye as you finally sit down.

"It's cold."

"Is it really?"

"Ha ha." He fake laughs. "What were you even doing, anyway?"

"I watching TV and enjoying a peaceful evening."

"Sorry to ruin your evening." He says sarcastically.

"It ain't your fault." You respond, not quite sure where to go from here but you can't quite meet his eye either. It falls quiet again.

"...thank you."

He says it in such a whisper you think you're actually losing your mind at first. "What?"

"I, uh," he rubs his face. "I said thank you. You... you didn't have to do this. The others... When I- when..." He sighs. "Normally, they just leave me to it. They don't get it, they don't understand."

"They don't, not in the way you want them to, but they understand that you're going through something horrible. And they don't wanna make things worse. And you tell them to leave you alone and avoid talking about it - people can't help you if you don't let them, JJ." You say, your voice becoming softer as you finally look at him.

"You managed." He responds, watching you carefully. You don't really want to have this conversation either.

"Yeah, well, I'm stubborn." You joke, earning a snort and him dropping and shaking his head, his hands falling to his lap with the bag of peas.

"Yeah, you can say that again." He pauses. "Mind if I join you with your little marathon? I've got nothing better to do."

"What?" You scoff. "You want to willingly spend time together?"

"Yeah - fuck it, why not? It's been a shitty day, I'm not sure even your annoying-ass could make it worse."

"Ah, well, I'm sure I can find a way." JJ grins at your sarcastic comment, picking up the remote and flicking the TV back on. "Friends? Seriously?"

"What? It's good."

"Ehh, is it, though?"

"Just 'cause you have no taste."

"Rude. Well, what would you rather watch?"

"Uh, Two Guys and A Girl?" You blankly look at him. "You don't know what that is, do you?"

"No-"

"'Course you don't."

"Just 'cause you're a film freak." You sneer.

"Just 'cause you're uncultured." He retorts, then sighs. "It's another nineties sit-com. Only has two seasons."

"That probably means it's bad."

"Shut up. Ryan Reynolds is in it."

"That doesn't mean it's good."

"Uhh, yeah, it does."

You continue your dumb bickering, even though you do ultimately continue watching friends - JJ even laughs at some of the bad jokes. It's... weirdly nice.

You're not sure if it's just because you've become painfully aware that you're attracted to him, or if you guys are just trauma bonding, but it's almost fun.

"Ross is such a dick. Rachel deserves better." You chuckle at his comment, rolling your eyes. Then, after a moment, you speak.

"Oh, Maybank?"

"Yeah?" He responds between mouthfuls of potatoe chips.

"You don't need to thank me."

He pauses, glancing at you. "Yeah, I know - but I still will."

You nod, a small smile on your lips. "Well, you're welcome then."

○□○□○□○□○

"Guys! Guys!" John B rushes out the Chateau the next day as Kie and Pope carry booze and cups for plans of a kegger that evening. "You gotta see this."

"Huh? See what?" Kie blinks at the boy as she climbs out of her car, adjusting the bag she's holding full of paper cups. She'd lectured Pope for trying to buy plastic ones, which had condemned her to having to carry them.

"What are you talking about?" Pope raises an eyebrow.

"Shhh! Keep your voices down!" John B whisper-yells, making them exchange puzzled looks. "Come on. Come on!" He summons them to follow him, in which they shrug at each other as they follow him inside.

"Dude, what's going on?" Pope hisses, his tone low as John B leads them into the living room area.

John B puts a finger to his lips, then points at the couch. Kie and Pope exchange another glance before walking around the sofa.

"Holy-" Kie starts before John B dramatically shushes her again.

On the couch, you and JJ remain. You're not sure when you fell asleep, but you did.

You're both still sat up, your head resting on JJ's shoulder, his arm loosely around yours as his head rests on top of yours. You're almost snuggled into the crook of his neck, your knees pulled up and slighting resting on the edge of his lap.

"Should we wake them up?" Pope asks. "Psst! Guys-"

Kie slaps his arm. "Don't you dare. They're gonna get along even less when they wake up - let's just enjoy the peace whilst it lasts."

John B smirks and nods. "Yeah, come on, let's head to the Boneyard and start setting things up. They'll catch up later."

The trio walk out as quietly as they can, leaving you two to your slumber.

Kie's right; when you both wake up, you're going to be embarrassed and probably angry at the other. But right now, you're blissfully unaware.

The bag of frozen peas defrosts on the table, and even though JJ is clearly hurt, he's been taken care of, and seems content.

Yeah, so, I'm providing content no one asked for. This is my blog, let me live.

Lmao, in all seriousness, I figured writing the start of a potential crush could be cute for a change and it's nice writing for another one of my favourite boys, who isn't Minho.

I know this isn't my demography, but I'm tryna make my masterlist look less empty.

Anyway, I hope at least one of you enjoyed this :))

[justatalkingface]

Hi there,

I'd love to know your ideas and opinion on Hori going out of his way to make Bakugou the second OFA user as it was shown in the movie. Are you a fan of it?

This post has aged badly because of how long it's been sitting in my inbox, but... well, I was the one who did that, so that's my own fault.

Hahahahahah, yeah, wow, sweet flying fuck no. In a series that has been escalating in how many bad decisions they've made lately, that is one of the worst. More than that, it is telling, in this deeply concerning way, about how little Hori seems to like his own main character.

I've never watched the movie, and I have no desire to, because I'm pretty sure all that'd happen if I did would be me spending the entire movie picking out plot holes than anything, but I have done some basic research on it, and my impression is that it's very... Naruto filler-movie-y, where the protagonists get Random Power up that is basically never spoken of again (note that this is basically official confirmation of Bakugou's promotion), the same general kind of big fight sequence where both of them work together, etc.

It's just... it's just shallow, though, is the thing. At least the filler Naruto movies had the basic decency to make up whatever power up they used and threw away; here Izuku is taking one of the foundational parts of the entire story and just.... giving it away. All of his emotional attachment to it, as a Quirk, as his Quirk, as part of a legacy connecting him to All Might, One For All, and what is singlehandedly keeping him in his current place in society (since at this point he wasn't allowed to be smart anymore), and he just throws it away to Bakugou.

And then, to top it off, it just comes back to him. Some Fucking How(TM). And, because this is, again, one of the foundational parts of the fucking story, that just leaves... so many questions. So many.

Like. If the Quirk could yeet itself from hosts it doesn't like, could AFO ever really take it? Or would it Yeet Thyself from his body, and presumably take a copy of AFO with it in the process (and doesn't that mean, since there was that nod to this happening in canon, that Izuku should have Explosion now? That he literally, by Hori's own logic, has taken that fundamental core of Bakugou's character, and should be in the perfect place to invalidate his entire, badly managed and over all atrocious 'character arc'?).

Really, the more I think on this, the more I realize that that is proof that, not only was Explosion drastically warped to contort to Hori's whims, but so was OFA; OFA, originally, was just supposed to support Izuku, as an assistance to his character, but as time passed, it became clear that that was no longer true, and Izuku only existed to assist OFA. And no, I'm not even talking about the actual person, I'm talking about the set of powers Izuku's entire purpose in the story had been reduced to helping display on demand.

And the fact that, looking at it with that symbolism in mind, that movie's ending was a perfectly horrible encapsulation of what happened in the overall story, of Izuku handing his entire self identity over to Bakugou, for him to take and use however the hell he wanted.

...Fuck, that's depressing. Really, honestly, I wonder why the hell Izuku even exists. Seriously. It's clear that Hori doesn't want him, and he wants all the good Izuku things to go to Bakugou; there's plenty of manga and anime with an asshole of a main character, although a lot of early things would have to be changed to explain how that'd work...

I wonder, but I actually know that answer: beyond needing a more acceptable hero, beyond changing plans, having Bakugou as the focus the way Izuku was would, A, put a spotlight on the traits of him Hori clearly wanted to avoid doing, and B, would put more pressure on Hori to make Bakugou change in way he so clearly wasn't allowed to do, to make the reality of him match up with the narrative version so many people love (You could argue that Izuku, in a similar place, stopped changing after awhile, but at the same time his complete lack of growth is the main reason why the people stopped liking him anymore, because he stopped feeling like a person, and one of the major reasons the second half of the story became so overwhelmingly shit, to the point even people just casually enjoying the story on a surface level read couldn't miss; combining that clusterfuck with Bakugou's shit characterization is probably the only reason Hori didn't just... have Izuku die at some point so Bakugou could flat out replace him, along with shallow nods to their 'rivalry' (like this movie!) to help the story sell).

...I've gotten off topic. So, to sum up: No. No, I hate it, it's terrible, I'm glad I've never had to actually watch it happen.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Light on the Darkside - An Original Story.

Well, guys, here it is! I've been planning this premise for a while, but very recently the pieces of it all fell together, the main characters virtually materialised by themselves, and here we have it. I won't lie, it will be quite dark for the first couple of chapters, and if you are easily triggered by depression, suicide or anorexia, I'd give it a miss, but I have injected a lot of love and heart into it, and some comic moments as well. It does start to lighten considerably by the third chapter.

I had to AI my main characters in their appearance, unfortunately, since I can't really find anyone in reality to face claim them to.

So, here we go. Please remember to be kind and give me a reblog on this, as original fiction is so very overlooked on this site, any help promoting it would be greatly appreciated. I would love to hear your thoughts, too!

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed.

Words - 4,137

Warnings - 18+ throughout. Topics cover depression, suicide and eating disorders. Minors DNI!

The fateful swing of a pendulum; some say it is as precarious as this, the thing that bridges the gap between life and death. Swing too far and the darkness engulfs you forever, eternal sleep settling over a body, whether willingly or not. Not enough, and it swings you back into the light, again, whether willingly or not.  

For James Kingston, on the 21st of March, 1997, it wasn’t willingly.  

The wings of death had opened to him, shrouded him in the alluring caress of her inky, feathered shadows, enveloped and lifted his consciousness away from it all. His body should have followed.  

It hadn’t.  

“James Nathaniel Kingston, twenty-three years old, found almost asphyxiated on the bathroom floor by the 999 caller twenty minutes ago. Both forearms slashed and approximately thirty co-codamol and twenty ibuprofen tablets imbibed with half a bottle of tequila.” 

Light. Dark. Noise. So much noise. Pressure lifted from his arms, applied once again when the wounds began to gush. More shouting. A light shined into his eyeballs in turn. A tube down his throat.  

“Just let me fucking go.”  

It had been quiet, where he’d temporarily found himself. Quiet and devoid of everything, exactly what he wished for, a slither of peace finally filling the void of emptiness that had opened within him to such an extent, nothing could fill it comfortably. And god, how he’d attempted to.  

In the end, the burden of existence had weighed upon him with an immovable, unfathomable pressure, his resolve breaking, toppling, his foundations crumbling like an ancient tower under the brutal duress of a wrecking ball. Slipping into it, he’d taken the large knife, just about coherent enough to open both arms and watch the river of red flow, witness his life draining out in a gush of crimson that glittered sticky over his dark clothes. 

Vomit, a surge of it exiting his mouth into a receptacle held by a man in hospital clothing, telling him not to fight it. Charcoal. God, that was foul. He’d been so close, happily floating his way into the eternal embrace of death. How dare they interfere with it. 

“James, come on. Lie back, buddy. Let the tube go.” 

Heaving again, he yanked it from his throat, his fist connecting with the doctor’s face, vomit and blood splashing all over. Hands pushed against him, held him down.  

“I need all available staff in here to hold him still!”  

Oh, no. “Get the fuck off me!” His booted foot lashed out, connected with someone, something, a yelp sounding, his bloodied forearm hitting a nurse in her throat. “Get off me or I’ll fucking break your neck!” 

Multiple hands fought against his thrashing, the tube plunged back into his throat. More charcoal. More vomit. “Okay, his stomach is clear. Sedate him so we can actually stitch his arms up.” 

It took six members of the A&E staff to hold him still, until the effects of the drugs injected into his system sent him back into a world of pure, beautiful black, his body stilling. He was finally under control, his blood type attained, three units of AB negative lined into his arm, the nurse who he’d kicked in the chest beginning to stitch him up.  

She showed him all the care he likely wouldn’t have thanked her for, remarking to herself that what she was witnessing was no simple cry for help. This young man, he’d wanted death, sought it avidly, the cuts she stitched so deep, she was surprised he’d survived going on those alone. Twenty-three and he was so weary with whatever he carried mentally, he’d only seen this, something so horrific, as a viable exit plan.  

In the waiting room, two of his friends were seated, the young men revealing a little background on him when she’d gone out to give them the relieving news that he’d survived. They were members of the same band, a band who by all accounts was just beginning to take off, James the lead guitarist of the outfit named Nocturnal Descent.  

She’d tentatively asked if they had any clue why he’d done it. The taller of the two, with full sleeves of tattoos and two bleached streaks in the front of his long, dark hair had shaken his head. “He’s a bit moody sometimes, bad tempered an’ all. Unless he’s been drinking then he’s larger than life, but nah. Nothing that’s made me think he’s about to do himself in. He cuts himself sometimes, likes the pain, he’s into the whole blood letting thing and whatever, but nah. No idea.” 

Witnessing the older scars that flecked his arms, she could believe that. 

“He’s been quiet for a bit,” the other man had confirmed, while he’d sat picking at one of his long, ginger dreadlocks. “Wasn’t nothing that made us wonder if he was alright or not. Just gets like that sometimes. Especially when he’s tired. Jim likes his sleep.”  

How close he’d come to finding that eternally, the nurse thought, finishing up her stitching. She then cut him out of his vomit stained, blood drenched clothes, giving him a little wash down so at least he was fresh and comfortable when he did finally come around.  

“God, fella,” she marvelled, “I’d bloody kill for your hair.” Poker straight, jet black and only a few inches from reaching his waist. He likely did little to keep it so beautiful, too, such was the injustice there when men possessed lovely hair, or amazing legs, and it not be anything they particularly put an effort into.  

“Well, that’s you all sorted. I certainly hope you’re more pleasant than you were before when you wake up again.” With that, she left him there in the room he’d been moved to in the side ward, likely to remain until he was assessed by doctors. Bodily, he’d need some time to heal and recover from the physical trauma of attempting suicide, but it’d be what was going on up in his head that would be subject to the deeper assessment.  

It was an hour before he finally began to come around a little, able to hear voices outside of the room he was in. He groaned faintly, his thoughts all plummeting down into the very depths of the dark once more. 

“Fuck. Still alive. Steve’s a prick.”  

Steve, he guessed, had likely been the one who’d found him and called an ambulance. It wouldn’t have been Snedders, who’d already been too stoned to move more than three feet when James had decided to lock himself in the bathroom and end it all.  

No, once Liam ‘Snedders’ Snedderley hit the weed, his speed decreased to that of a tranquilised sloth. Amazing really, for a man who could drum with such velocity, a whirlwind of ginger dreadlocks swirling as he did. This? It was definitely Steve. His best mate, who at that particular moment he loathed.  

“Just wanted to die, but no. Selfish bastard couldn’t even let me have that. Top grade twat.” 

Whether there’d be a time to come where he’d lighten such hostility, he didn’t know, attempting to lift his arm and scratch his nose but finding he couldn’t. Opening his eyes, the lights of the room obnoxiously bright, he grumbled, looking down to see his bandaged arms both fastened into wrist restraints.  

“Usually got a bird on my cock when I’m bound up.” His thoughts were accompanied by a little smirk that quickly faded, tuning his ears to the voices coming from outside of his room. “Ahh, fuck. The duchess is here.” He’d recognise the shrill tones of his mother even through a lead lined box. 

And she was on form, as usual.  

“It's this whole scene he’s gotten himself into, that’s what’s brought it on! He started listening to this black metal nonsense when he was fourteen, had started a band by sixteen and now his entire life revolves around the darkness of it!” 

The doctor she was talking at rather than to cleared his throat, wanting to at least attempt a little diplomacy in how he handled the balance of fact, and remaining tactful with a woman whose son had just made a serious attempt on his own life. “Mrs. Kingston, it’s a little more complex than that when we are dealing with clinical depression, of which I am inclined to suspect your son is suffering from severely, should we take his actions into consideration.” 

Her ranting to the contrary continued. Truly, nobody knew it all like Carole Kingston, James lying there wishing he’d stabbed himself in the ears so he didn’t have to listen to her. His music was his solace, something he could pour the darkness within himself into, make the noise in his head and the bleakness in the epicentre of him a little more bearable to deal with. She’d never hear that reasoning, though. Never hear him.  

“Carole,” he heard his father speak tersely, not even needing to witness him to know that he was likely pinching the bridge of his nose after removing his glasses. It was an Alan Kingston go to when aggravated. “You know he’s gotten a lot better since he started the band. The doctor is right, though. I think it’s been going on longer than we wanted to admit.” 

Thank fuck his dad wasn’t working nights and he wouldn’t have to deal with his mother alone, with his head torn to pieces. That strong Liverpudlian lilt that most found either comedic or grating never failed to soothe him. 

“For how long, would you say, Mr. Kingston?” 

“Ahh, probably since he was about eleven or twelve, you know. We just thought it was teenage hormones, moodiness. They didn’t talk about it when we were kids, all this depression stuff, so we didn’t really know it was that we were dealing with. Well, I think I always had an inclining, but I just shoved it down, you know. He needs us to acknowledge it now, so we can get him well. Whatever that looks like going forward.”  

“I want him back home with us,” she spoke hotly, “where I can keep a flippin’ eye on him!” 

“Should’ve definitely gone for a fucking noose.” James thought darkly, actually snorting a small burst of laughter through his groggy state. 

“Carole, he’s twenty-three,” Alan began in reasoning, “he’s a grown adult. You can’t babysit him every last second of the day.”  

He smiled at that. At least his dad always fought his corner.  

“I’m afraid that likely won’t be an option for him currently. He needs to be further assessed once his sedation wears off, but I personally will be recommending that James is sectioned under the mental health act.” 

“Sectioned?” Carole spluttered, her mouth dropping wide. “You want to throw my son in some asylum? And what the bloody hell has he been sedated for?” 

“Woo, I get to go to the funny farm,” he thought, his thoughts raining sarcasm. “Better than wrath of the mother, though.” Sarcasm was the drug-addled response, his temper placated enough not to begin vying for escape at the thought of being committed against his will.  

Out in the corridor, his father feared for whoever was charged in actually moving him to the psychiatric facility he knew James would likely end up in, though. He might have been slight, but he was all lithe muscles and long limbs at six feet three. And god, he’d seen his son fight before when finally growing a backbone against his school bullies.  

Sedated might be the best way to keep him, as much as it pained him, knowing his precious boy only had confinement and a course of medication that would probably zombify him in his immediate future.  

“Mrs. Kingston, James was in quite a state while having his stomach pumped. He became extremely violent with a number of staff members attempting to treat him, so sedation was the only logical course.”  

Sedation and restraint, his wrists burning beneath the padded leather cuffs that tethered him to the bed. Well, he had kicked one nurse in the chest and threatened a second with breaking her neck, he could just about remember. He felt bad about that. While he might have been a brawler when presented with anything that threatened him, James had never, ever been the type to hurt a woman.  

Quite the opposite, he liked to think.  

Women and his treatment of them were the last of his worries at that moment, though, listening for a little longer to what the doctor had to say before succumbing to the need to doze. He felt tired down to his bones. When he did come around again, he saw his dad he sat sitting at his bedside, Alan smiling wearily at him. In all of this, he was the last person he’d wanted to hurt. Truly though, he’d thought of little else as his life had faded upon the bathroom floor. Only his elation to leave it behind.  

“It’s quiet. Where’s the duchess?” 

At least his sense of humour was intact. “Gone to get herself a cuppa,” he confirmed, shuffling his chair closer as he reached to rest a hand on his arm. “Scared the bloody life out of me, you did. How you feeling now, kidda?” 

“Sick, but not like I want to throw up or anything.” 

Alan nodded, his forehead creasing with a deep line of concern. “Not surprising, with the number of tablets they had to pump out of your stomach.” His eyes saddened, thumb pressing against his inner elbow. “Why’d you do it, lad? You know you can always come and talk to your old man here, if you’re not feeling right, eh? Always said that, haven’t I?”  

His mouth twitched, James trying to find a way to word it that wouldn’t hurt his dad more than he already was. Truly, there was little adequate recourse to the truth of the matter. “Just don’t wanna be alive no more, dad. It’s fucking meaningless, innit?” 

“Here now,” he soothed, his hand reaching to grip his shoulder. “Don’t you say that, me lad. Got the bloody world at your feet, eh? The band’s starting to take off, you’re out there doing what you want to do. It’s got all the meaning in the world, mate.”  

He sighed through his nose, his eyes falling down to momentarily gaze upon where he was restrained. “Nah. Don’t feel like that. Just feel fucking empty, dad.”  

“Well, that’s apparent. The doctor thinks he knows why, and I happen to agree with him. Getting it through to your mother, though, different story. As you might guess.” He paused for a second, drawing himself up a little taller in his seat. “They think you’ve got clinical depression, kidda. If I’m honest, I reckon you’ve had it a while, you know. I blame myself, for seeing it and not doing anything, watching you become withdrawn and all that.”  

James shrugged. “Ain’t your fault. Just the way I am, innit?” 

“It doesn’t have to be, mate,” Alan stated, James seeing it there in his face, the fear, the anguish he’d caused. And he was still here putting him through it. Yeah. Fuck Steve for calling that ambulance. Fuck himself, too, for being like this in the first place and putting people through all of the worry. “They can treat it with pills, try and mend whatever it is in your head that’s broken. It doesn’t have to be like this, eh?” 

“Wouldn’t be like this at all if people just let me die, like I want to.” He didn’t say that aloud, though, staying silent for a few moments, his eyes flitting over to the other side of the room.  

“You want me to leave you alone for a bit, son?” 

“Nah,” he sighed, turning back to his dad. “Can you undo these straps, though?” 

“Can’t, mate,” he lamented, “you pose what they’re calling a significant violence risk. Apparently, you went full Vinnie fucking Jones on the team who were trying to save your life. Little shite.”  

You little shite; it had been his dad’s go to since he was about three whenever he played up. His mouth twitched, something resembling a small smile curling the corner of his full lips. “Ain’t that little no more though.”  

“Yeah, the nurse with a boot shaped bruise coming up between her knockers knows all about that!” 

He puffed his cheeks, eyes widening a little. “Doubt I’m popular.”  

“I’m sure she’s had worse than that in her time, kidda.” 

“Yeah, but kicking her in the tits?” James exclaimed, snorting a little laugh. “That ain’t my style, dad. Not unless they like it a bit rough.”  

The little snap of teeth his son followed that statement with had Alan wheezing with quiet laughter. “Bad lad. I’ll never bloody forget you coming down the stairs with that girl Helena, and the poor lass is doing her best to cover the bloody bite marks all over her chest with her hair. And then your mother sees ‘em and gives you the death glare. ‘So, you’ve been up there shagging all afternoon, have you?’ she shouts, and I’m sitting there trying not to laugh at the smug look on your face.” 

God, Helena. That had been a while ago, the girl he’d been with for just over a year at sixteen. “Said she looked like someone had flung her in a piranha tank.”  

Alan’s wheezing amped up considerably at that, a small slither of relief settling in him to see his boy smiling a little. It was a momentary reprieve in a harrowing situation. God, if Steve hadn’t been there. Alan had hugged him tightly upon arriving in the waiting room, thanking him over and over for kicking the bathroom door down and acting quickly, clearing the vomit from his mouth, wrapping his arms in towels and calling an ambulance. He’d saved him. He’d always been a good lad, Steve.  

“Look at you now, though. Grinning like an idiot, being that smug little shite I love with all my bloody heart, mate. Can’t be that bad all the time, can it?” 

James didn’t blame his dad for seeking out a silver lining at all, although the truth wasn’t so simple. “Doesn’t matter, dad. I can be onstage with the band, out drinking, biting on tits while I’m shagging some girl ragged, laughing my arse off and all that, but underneath I’m still the same. Still got all this shit I can’t get rid of.”  

“I just don’t understand it,” he huffed, scratching his thick beard. No. And that was the problem. Nobody did. “We’re going to get you some help though. You just need to sit tight with it. You aren’t going to like this one bit, lad, but there’s talk of having you sectioned. I think the doctor wants to have you further assessed and they’ll go from there, but personally I think it’s the best place for you right now.”  

“Do I have any say in that?” 

His mouth straightened into a thin line, shaking his head. “No, son. Chasing thirty co-codamol and twenty ibuprofen tablets with half a bottle of San Jose and then opening up both your bloody arms takes that away from you. You need help, James. Help I don’t think you’d actively go and seek on your own.”  

The hidden undertones were clear, rippling in worry just below his father’s strong surface. If he was allowed to leave the hospital of his own volition, he’d simply go and finish himself off and actually accomplish it. It was true, too. James had already earmarked the motorway bridge over the M6, should he find his way out of the looming threat of being sectioned. He doubted he’d survive a truck smacking into him at seventy miles an hour.  

The door opened, revealing his mother, a steaming paper cup in her grasp. As soon as her eyes found his, she did what he least expected. She sobbed. He was expecting rage, a tirade, a full-blown stream of haranguing. For that moment, at least, it didn’t materialise, Carole striding around to the other side of the bed and placing her tea down, her throat pinched as she cried, reaching for him and stroking his hair as she kissed his forehead repeatedly.  

“You, and it, and you could have...” Only squeaks followed, Carole hugging his head as she broke down. “You nearly died, James! You nearly flippin’ well died, you silly bloody thing! Why did you do it, love? What happened?” 

He winced, feeling slightly smothered, the scent of her very strong perfume a little too much for his senses as she continued to hug him. “Like I just said to dad, it’s how I feel all the time. Just hollow, innit. Don’t wanna be here.”  

Straightening, her hands went to her hips, cocking her head. “That’s bloody absurd!” 

Oh, here she was.  

“Carole,” her husband warned, “go easy. He doesn’t need chewing out right now.” 

“I beg very much to differ!” Turning back to her eldest, she stared at him with wide eyes, James desiring nothing more than wishing he could unfasten himself and put some distance between them. “James, you need to snap out of this. Acting glum is one thing, but trying to kill yourself, without a second thought for your family?” 

“Carole,” Alan spoke again, looking exasperated. 

“It’s all this bloody black metal, isn’t it? Corpse paint and death! Bleakness and sorrow, you’re bringing it on yourself!”  

Alan was just about to speak, his son getting in first. “Mum, I love you to bits, I do. That isn’t anything to do with it. Stop looking for things to blame it on. I’m not happy and I could listen to all that pop music shit like Sam does and it wouldn’t make a fucking difference, I-” 

“Language!” she cut in with. 

“Oh, piss off!” 

“Don’t you bloody talk to me like that, my boy!” she raged through her tears, Alan standing up and moving quickly to her side of the bed. 

“Come on, this isn’t happening now. He ain’t in the state to hear you being irrational. Go wait outside for me. Drink your tea and have a ciggie, calm down a bit, eh.” Picking up the paper cup, he steered his wife in the direction of the door, shushing her when she made further attempts at protest. “I know you’re upset, petal, but this isn’t about you. Go on, now.” 

Shutting the door, he turned back to the bed, taking a very deep breath. “Better?” 

“Yeah. Thanks, dad,” he confirmed, the unpleasant feeling in his stomach that his mother’s tirade had left beginning to sink again. It wasn’t her fault really; she was just very highly strung. She only did it because she loved her children deeply, but he and his younger sister Sam did often feel either stifled or prickled by Carole’s particular brand of parenting. “Can you do something else for me?” 

“Of course I can, lad.” 

He beckoned with a little jerk of his head. “Can you scratch my nose, just above the piercing? It’s driving me more mental than I already am.” 

Alan beamed, wheezing a soft laugh. “Must be, kidda.” Reaching, he scratched at his nose, patting his cheek gently once done before he sat down again. “I remember when you did that. Ice, a whacking great bit darning needle, and blood all over the sink. Daft sod, eh.” 

A doctor came in to check on him not long afterwards, telling him that for the immediate moment, he was being restrained under the mental health act on a temporary hold, subject to further assessment come the morning. He wouldn’t be allowed out of his restraints, or transferred to a ward. He would stay where he was until a bed was found at a psychiatric facility, the doctor assuring him they’d attempt to find somewhere within the Warwickshire area.  

His dad only stayed a further ten minutes after that, James feeling woozy again after being administered a sleeping pill, the doctor feeling it best for him to stay medicated in order to rest after his ordeal.  

“I’ll come by tomorrow on me dinner break to see you. Love you all the world, lad.”  

Not being particularly affectionate, he didn’t expect to hear the same back, but the smile his son gave confirmed it. Poor kid, he truly couldn’t comprehend just how bent out of shape he was at that moment, but he could at least take some comfort in the fact that the problem he’d tried to pretend didn’t exist for so long was finally being treated.  

As for James, all he could do as he fell into a synthetically delivered sleep was despair that he was still there to be treated at all.  

[stainedglassthreads]

Theory About Who Has the Gnosis

My theory about who presently has the Hydro Gnosis, and who the true Hydro Archon is, is that it's...still Furina, actually. Just not the Furina we've been interacting with so far.

"Okay what the hell are you on about now, Glass--" So glad you asked, dearest darling readers!

So one thing I've been utterly obsessed with in Genshin is how every Archon(except Zhongli) has a dead doppelganger that makes them depressed. Venti has the Nameless Bard(modeled his form based off them), Ei has Makoto(identical twins), Nahida has Rukkhadevata(used the same model when they finally got to speak with each other, adult Rukkhadevata looked like an older Nahida)

So this sets up for Furina, Murata, and the Tsaritsa possibly having their own doppelgangers. As such my theory is that Furina's doppelganger is actually currently still alive, and is the holder of the Gnosis. Furthermore, it is actually Furina's memories of the Gnosis and certain knowledge required for being and acting like an Archon 'given consciousness'. This other-Furina (we'll just call THIS one Focalors to prevent confusion) is probably also the one who's been gathering Indemnitum and figuring out plans to deal with the Prophecy while our Furina keeps the populace calm and entertained, hence why Furina is so confident that she can deal with the prophecy, to the point the Traveler doesn't think she's putting on an act anymore, but can't actually answer any of Arlecchino's questions during the Archon Quest. That was her 'original, complete self' briefly shining through.

As for how such a thing is possible...Furina actually strikes me as pretty competent, if anxious and insecure, when she sets her mind to something, and seems to have some sort of specialty in information gathering. She's good enough at it that she's the first Archon to figure out where the Traveler is going, and set agents to inform her of our arrival so she can make a grand entrance literally minutes after we entered her nation--without Archon powers. It's also very interesting how, despite how Makoto and Rukkhadevata have left things behind, the things they leave behind tend to be restricted to their nations. They even both died within their nations But the place where Egeria died...is in Sumeru. Just within the border, yeah. And it does do a lot of work in setting up Fontaine lore to hype us up. But...it feels a little weird to me that Egeria didn't die within Sumeru.

I wonder if it's a hint that shortly after becoming an Archon, but before Rukkhadevata's death, Furina asked Rukkhadevata to use the Irminsul Tree to help her with something--namely, to help her pull off the ultimate performance. I think that Furina might be the ultimate method actor--what better way of hiding one's Gnosis and disguising one's true plans, after all, than wiping your own memories so that, even if someone interrogates you you can't give up your Gnosis' location or what's necessary for your plans, and even if you're killed by an assassin capitalizing on the opportunity, 'another you' can keep working away at all the issues, and everyone now knows there's someone after the Archon/Gnosis.

Of course, this does mean that Furina's plan may have backfired a little. If this is true, then she's a great decoy...but she's also got a self-inflicted inferiority complex, and is so afraid of admitting that she's weak, confused, and helpless that she can't even admit to Neuvilette someone made an attempt on her life.

I already talked once about Furina, Ei, and Nahida all being foils for each other, where they end up isolated due to being in the shadow of their predecessors, and feeling they're not equipped to do a good job. But if this is true, and Furina created a Focalors-doppelganger, then Furina is also standing in the shadow of her own self. It'd also be incredibly interesting if, while Nahida had to erase memories to move out from Rukkhadevata's shadow, Furina has to regain them--and it'd also have some interesting implications about why Rukkhadevata chose to erase herself, too. Because maybe she got the idea from someone else...

"This is all well and good, but wait, where's Focalors then?"

Ah, this one I actually think most people have already guessed correctly. What's a machine that creates and gathers indemnitum, that's powered by a belief in justice, which Furina supposedly built but doesn't seem to understand(anymore), which apparently spoke to Lyney when he tried infiltrating the Opera Epiclese to examine it, and which Neuvilette ultimately chose to respect the judgment of when it gave a verdict different to his?

Suffice to say. Much like how Elynas chose to appear as a Melusine and Rukkhadevata appeared as Nahida...I think we'll get to chat with the Oratrice in a dreamspace and it will appear as Focalors.

[hsfan94]

AN: Cleaning out my drafts. This is one I wrote in 2022. It was originally just going to be angst but I'm not as depressed now as I was when I wrote it so I changed the ending up. Hope you like it.

Done

Harry had been pissing Y/N off a lot lately. It was mostly little things but two very big ones felt relevant to where she finds herself right now. Y/n could not get into his October 2nd show. She had told Harry many times it would be the only one she could make work with her schedule. This weekend she had flown to Austin to spend it with him and attend that show. However, on Saturday he had already made plans to go golfing with Beto and McConaughey, which she felt she didn't have the right to be mad at him as they were going to talk about Texan politics and she knew he was passionate about changing America's current climate, but knowing that didn't make it hurt less that she had made room in her calendar and he had forgotten. They had barely seen each other all weekend and now as she stood at the backstage entrance arguing with a security guard about whether or not she and Harry were in fact involved, she had had it.

"Baby, you know why it's a secret." Harry wasn't facing her. He was packing his tour clothes while she pleaded for him to change his mind about privacy.

"That doesn't make it hurt less, H. I mean people have drawn their own conclusions about you and," she had to pause because this would segue into another argument they had been having recently and she had to be delicate. "Her."

He dropped the shirt he held and turned around. "There is no me and her."

Y/n had asked many times if there was something between him and Olivia. They had somewhat of a close connection that he claimed only to be friendship. Y/n could not stand the woman and hated that Harry spent so much time with her for many reasons. The scariest thought being that he had been intimate with her.

"That might be true, but because of how secretive you are about us," she motioned between them with her hand, "they think you are with her. How am I supposed to feel?"

"You could not listen to the court of public opinion." He turned back around to his clothes.

"Harry. I love you so much but I am tired of feeling like the only one who fights for us." She didn't want to voice that thought aloud but felt like she had to.

He whipped around this time and walked up to her.

"You think I don't fight for us? That I mean more to you than you mean to me? Y/n you have to know how false that is. I fight every day to keep what we have between us to protect you. If you were subjected to the cruelty that comes with being my partner you would leave me."

"Harry, I can't believe you think that would ever happen. That just proves that I'm right. You would rather keep me a secret in the dark than fight for us in the light."

She had walked away after that. The conversation of their privacy had been a reoccurring one. It would be different if Y/N were some random person that he'd just begun dating but they had been together for three years. She had planned to be in the business too when they met but wanted to go to University first. With Harry's help she'd actually already done some stuff and although she wasn't famous people at her school recognised her often. All that said, she knew why his privacy was important to him but at what cost? They couldn't live their lives normally. And right now she is witnessing first hand why her being a secret is an issue.

"I promise, I'm on the list. What do you need me to do to prove that?"

"I'm sorry ma'am but I was instructed not to let anyone in if they weren't on the team."

Y/n scoffed at this.

"I just saw you let in Beto O'Rourke."

"He's a politician ma'am, not a nobody."

Her heart cracked. Harry and his stupid privacy had gotten her labelled as a nobody.

"Just give me a minute." She held up her hand and took out her phone to call Harry. He didn't answer. "That's weird." She called him two more times. No answer. On her last attempt it went straight to voicemail. He let it die. "His phone died." She looked at the security guard who wasn't buying it.

"Convenient."

"No this really is his number see." She turned her phone around to show him her screen. It just said 'baby' with a heart next to it.

"Ma'am please don't make me call the police."

"Please." She begged. "I flew all the way out here. I'm missing shifts at work. I know anything about him just ask me anything."

"What is he wearing today?"

The one thing she didn't know.

"I don't actually know. We haven't seen each other yet."

"Right. Ma'am, please exit the premises."

She sighed in defeat and wandered back to their hotel.

His friendship with Olivia bothered her because if it had been Olivia tonight, she would have gotten in no problem. Olivia got all the perks of being his girlfriend even though she wasn't. She got to be on Vogue, Lamby styled her, she got invited to Gucci events and even got to go to as many shows as she wanted. It drove Y/n up a wall that Harry didn't see the issue. He just brushed off her complaints by saying she was jealous of Olivia’s success and that pissed her off because she didn’t think of her as successful. In fact it was obvious to Y/n that Olivia was using Harry to get all those things. She saw how Olivia played into the dating rumours. She ate that shit up.

Y/n just watched the clock in Harry’s hotel room all night thinking about what to do. She loved him but she was tired. Tonight really hurt her. She couldn’t pretend everything was fine. It struck 11:30 and she knew he’d be coming through the door any moment. She never thought she would consider leaving but here she was, thinking about all that has gone wrong in the last few months and realizing she has to do what is best for her.

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

Harry felt like tonight was his best performance in Austin. He was so glad that Beto witnessed it and he was so glad his love witnessed it. He searched for her backstage before the show but when he couldn’t find her he assumed she had decided to sit in the stands.

He skipped down the hall of the hotel so excited to see her finally after almost a month apart. When he walked through his hotel room door, however, he immediately felt the tension.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

She laughed emotionlessly.

“Thats a joke right?” She looked at him from where she sat on the bed, disappointment radiating off her.

“No. I’m serious.” He was lost.

“Harry, I can’t do it anymore.”

His heart dropped.

“Can’t do what?” He really didn’t understand.

“This. I just wasted my weekend.”

“You didn’t enjoy the show?” He felt himself being crushed from the inside out.

“You mean the one I couldn’t get into?”

“What?” He saw tears fall over her eyes.

“I didn’t get in because no one besides you, the band and Jeff know who I am. The security guard thought I was crazy.”

“Oh baby, why didn’t you call me?” He sat next to her now.

“I did. Five times and then your phone died.”

Harry tried to reach out and rub her back but she got to her feet as fast as he lifted his hand.

“Look, I get it, privacy is very important to you. I’ve been very understanding of you’re past relationship trauma and of your career, but if you can’t admit to people that you love me how am I supposed to believe you?” She took a deep breath and continued. “I know you love me, I just didn’t know I was signing up for permanent secrecy and it’s not like I want fame or attention, but I feel I deserve to be loved loud and I want to be able to love you loud.”

She was still turned away from him and he was getting really scared. He couldn't imagine life without her and she sounded like she was about to leave it, leave him.

“Baby, what are you trying to say?”

She turned back towards him and uttered the most horrible words. “I need space. A lot of it. To figure out what I want.”

He just nodded. His mouth wouldn’t form words anymore.

As if that was some kind of permission she’d been waiting on, she grabbed her bag that was at the foot of the bed and walked out the door.

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

Harry finished the first few songs and took a big drink of water and a deep breath. He knew what he needed to do, what he should have done a long time ago. He just hoped it wasn’t too late.

“Thank you, Austin!” The crowd cheered. “How are we doing tonight?” More cheers. “I’m going to be honest with you Austin, I’m not doing so well. Yesterday, someone very important to me was supposed to be here at the show and they didn’t get to come, all because of me. So, if you don’t mind a small interruption of the show, I wanted to talk to you guys about the situation.”

Some people awed and some cheered again as if they were just glad to be in the room.

“Back in 2019, I met an extraordinary young woman, who very quickly became my best friend. A short time into our friendship she told me she loved me. We weren’t dating at the time, just very close but that was the best day of my life. We entered into a relationship shortly after. I have had a hard time keeping people I care for deeply around since my career started and I told her we should keep it private, between us, to protect it. But the word private quickly translated to secret and I’ve been an ass. Y/N, the love of my life, has stuck by me the last three years despite having to keep our relationship off social media and out of the press. I hadn’t realized anything was wrong with how we loved because when I wasn’t at work we got to be in this little bubble but I’ve been breaking her heart over and over. Yesterday, she was supposed to be here and she couldn’t get inside.” Harry had to pause to hold back tears. Just thinking about her outside feeling embarrassed and sad made him hate himself so much. “She came down to Austin this weekend to hangout with me. She took time out of her busy schedule and I left her alone in a hotel room and alone outside this arena all because I was afraid if you all knew I cared for her she’d leave me. In turn my own actions have almost led to that. She left last night very upset with me so I wanted to try and make it up to her by telling you all all about her. She’s a music industry student at USC and she worked with me on Fine Line. She’s a brilliant writer and producer and she’s my best friend. I love her very much and I hope to marry her one day, if she can ever forgive me for how I’ve acted.” He felt he might be word vomiting at this point so he wrapped it up. “Y/n, I’m sorry and I love you. From now on I’ll love you loud. This is Boyfriends.”

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

Y/n’s eyes burned and her body ached with sleep deprivation but she couldn’t bring herself to relax enough. She had not had a proper night’s sleep since Saturday night. It was now Tuesday and she hadn’t spoken to Harry in over 24 hours, the longest they’ve ever gone without speaking. Sure, she requested he give her space and he knew better than to fight her on that but it took its toll on her. She felt his absence heavy on her chest. She didn’t want to end things, and this wasn’t what that was, but the last few months have been so emotionally draining and she thinks it might have to be done.

She climbed out of bed and made her way slowly to the kitchen. The house felt empty with just her. She put the mocha pot on the stove and turned on their television that faced the kitchen from the sitting room. The Today Show was on and she would normally be so excited because she hardly ever gets the chance to watch it, but she can’t even bring the faintest of smiles to her lips.

“This is an interesting story that broke the internet last night,” Hoda said. Her cheery voice filling the empty rooms. “Harry Styles made a very emotional speech that he paired with a shocking announcement at his show last night.”

Y/n tensed from head to toe at the mention of him and how he broke the internet. She didn’t even know about this because she’d been avoiding social media.

“We have a very sweet clip of it, take a look.” Hoda disappeared and Harry took up their TV screen.

His voice dragged her out of her shock and she walked slowly towards the picture. He was saying things she always wanted to hear and her cheeks were suddenly wet with tears at the sight of how broken up he seemed at the thought of losing her.

“Y/n, I’m sorry and I love you. From now on I’ll love you loud. This is Boyfriends.”

Then he vanished and Hoda reappeared to make her own comments about how sweet the speech was and how she had no idea despite just having him at the show in May, but Y/n was no longer listening.

She walked back over to the kitchen, where her coffee had long been forgotten, and picked up her phone to call him.

He answered immediately to no surprise of her own as she just watched the most heart wrenching video of him to date.

“Baby?” His voice broke and he sounded like he thought he imagined a call from her.

“H. I saw you. This morning on the today show. I can’t believe you did that.”

“No. I can’t believe I didn’t do it sooner.” He choked the words out. She could tell there was more so she waited patiently. “I almost lost you. I might have lost you. That might have been too late and it was all my fault. I’ve been so stupid and so cowardly and I promise I’m done hiding you.”

“It’s not too late.” She spoke quietly. “Did you mean it? The part about wanting to marry me?” They hadn’t really talked about marriage before. They’d just been living their life to the fullest (or the closest to when you’re dodging cameras like the plague) so she was shocked when he used the m-word.

“Absolutely. I’d marry you tomorrow if you let me.” He paused, as if waiting for her to respond but when she remained silent he went on. "I really can't imagine a life without you in it. That's why I've been so careful about keeping you out of the public eye. I'm sorry I made you feel the way you did. It breaks my heart thinking about how sad I've made you and I promise I'm going to spend every moment until I die making it right."

"Don't do that," she said softly. "Don't make me think about you dying. It's bad enough Olivia made me watch you die on camera."

He chuckled softly. "Okay, baby. But I mean it. If you'll still have me, I'm going to do things right from now on."

She smiled against her phone. "Of course I'll still have you. I won't lie, H, I seriously did contemplate ending it but just the last day without you, without being able to text you, I don't think I'd survive a real breakup. So, I guess you're stuck with me forever, just don't fuck up anymore."

"Never again, I promise." She imagined him shaking his head aggressively like he always does when he's serious.

"Okay then, I love you. When will I see you again?"

"I love you too, and um... how's right now? Is it a good time?" There was a beat and then she heard their door open.

She hung-up, set her phone down and ran to the entryway.

Standing just on the inside of the front door was Harry. He had on grey sweatpants and a t-shirt she was 99% sure belonged to her. He looked like shit, as if like her, he hadn't slept and had been crying a lot.

Still he never looked better. She ran towards him and he caught her seamlessly. She wrapped herself all the way around him. They fit together like puzzle pieces.

"How are you here right now?" Her voice as quiet as breath against his ear.

"I knew you had wanted space, but I had planned on coming home between Austin and Chicago to surprise you before you asked for it so I came anyway. I was staying close by and when you called I just thought maybe it meant I could come home so I got in my car and headed over."

His arms tightened around her and she turned her head into his neck to kiss him ever so lightly. She felt his hand come up and cup her behind her neck, squeezing slightly and then pulling her face back to look at her. He pressed his forehead against hers and spoke again.

"I'm truly sorry, baby. It won't happen ever again. I can't promise I'll never fuck up again but I'm done being quiet about how much you mean to me."

He kissed her softly and she brought her hands up to cup his face. Then to her disappointment he lowered her back to the ground. She expected him to stay put but he sunk to his knees. At first she though he was about to physically apologise until she realised he was on one knee.

"This is super unplanned and not what I had in mind, but I can't think of waiting any longer. You are my best friend, my writing partner, my confidant and partner in crime. You are already everything to me but it would make me so happy if you would also agree to be my wife." He took her favourite ring of his off his finger and held it out to her. "Will you marry me?"

Her eyes filled with tears as she shakily nodded her head. "Yes. Of course."

He put the ring on her trembling hand and stood back up. He brought his hands up to her face and kissed her again, this one being deeper than the other.

When he pulled back he whispered, "I love you so much," and then buried his head in her neck.

Y/n had never been happier.

[pookacangetit]

Disney Song! Yuu [Cult Edition: Lost Kingdom, Now Localised]

... somehow, the Disney Empire continues to surprise me with its takeover. Yuu's largely aware of Kingdom of Hearts, but they are not willing to risk any lives after their necromancy incident. But with overly compulsive brothers and a curiosity that kills, perhaps it was a bad idea. (Spoiler alert: it was.)

MASTERLIST

"... Yuu." Sebek calmly intoned, terrifying everyone with his lack of aggressiveness, "You are an absolute natural disaster."

"What part of them and that is natural?" Epel questioned with an incredulous look as he pointed at the haunted-looking ruins in the distance, partially visible under the watery black void that made up the sky, "The thing's standing upside down!"

Jack's head suddenly popped up from within a hole in the ground, "EVERYONE SHUT UP AND DIG." His once fluffy white ears twitched furiously and sprayed dirt everywhere, "I don't plan on dying in a cave because one of us is a god!"

Yuu cautiously stepped up, "I can-"

"No singing."

Yuu stepped back down.

To find out how Yuu and their first years ended up stuck in a cave hosting the most terrifying ruins in existence- the upside down part was a bonus, it was very ominous and forebodding in general-, we'll have to go back to 5 hours ago...

✾✾✾

"Hey prefect, how did you know that forbidden song about necromancy?" Ace piped up, juggling between a determined Grimm and Deuce while he guarded his plate of omurice, "You know, the one that made you summon the skeletons of the Ramshackle ghosts."

Yuu blinked, looking away with an awkward laugh as they clutched their broom, "Funny story, I... didn't know it was a lost song? Like, I wasn't aware its origins tied to the lost song exactly...?"

They can't admit that the entire Twisted Wonderland was an alternate come-to-life version of a famous entertainment company back in their world, can they?

Ace hummed, scarlet eyes holding a curious glint, "Hmm, so... are there any other songs you know that might be actually lost songs?"

Yuu paused, "Maybe?"

✾✾✾

Currently, the Ramshackle prefect was trying to whack Ace with their broom with Deuce and Grimm's gleeful assistance, "- shouldn't have listen to you at all you stupid Ace-"

The low, mournful wail echoing from the ruins halted everyone's actions as hollow voices bellowed.

どんな時だって たった一人で~

運命忘れて生きてきたのに~

突然の光の中 目が覚める 真夜中に~

Jack let out a deep rumble, ears tucked against his head, "That is definitely not Yuu's singing, and what language is that?"

Yuu blinked as they listened closer, "It sounds... like a language from my homeworld."

Deuce glanced at the prefect, still staring at the ruins as though it would suddenly attack them, "Are you saying we're in your world??"

"... your world is really depressing." Ace got a smack on the back of his head for that.

Yuu snapped back, mind whirring in panic, "This isn't my world you dolt." But it isn't Twisted Wonderland either?? Did they somehow travel to another world??

静かに 出口に立って~

暗闇に光を撃て~

The dark atmosphere suddenly lifted as the ruins beamed a bright light, momentarily blinding everyone as they squeezed their eyes tight.

願いを口にしたいだけさ~

家族にも紹介するよ~

きっとうまくいくよ~

あなたはここに属していません~

Everything was the same as the first years crash-landed into the Ramshackle living room, but Sebek's loud swearing caught everyone's attention, "WHAT CURSED BEING DID YOU BRING BACK WITH US, GRIMM?!"

"Funahh, I was hungry and it was the only fluffy thing I found!" Grimm complained, though his words were muffled as he chewed on a tiny duck wearing a sailor's uniform in his mouth.

Yuu stared, wondering if they had somehow died or if Jade snuck mushrooms into their food storage again, "... is that fucking Donald??"

Yuu: I want to go home

Also Yuu: *travels to another dimension by accident*

Yuu: ... I thought I couldn't be more disappointed, I was wrong