#and for some reason i was stupid enough to believe that maybe i was quote on quote cool enough to hang out with them

[daughterofthesea111]

warning: olivia goes nuts !!!

today i learned: two of my bestest friends that i’ve known since kindergarten mildly dislike me and have been purposefully excluding me for months !!!! and apparently they didn’t enjoy going to my birthday party last year and they don’t like hanging out with me :) and that’s why we don’t hang out as a group anymore outside of school and that’s why i’m not invited to hang out with them when they go do fun stuff !! how nice !!

i was just talking to a diff friend (who doesn’t like either of those girls) and she goes “yeah, i know, i felt so bad when i saw how disinterested they were at ur birthday party.” and my immediate reaction was “wait… what ???” bc i rlly thought they enjoyed being there. i really thought they enjoyed being friends with me. why am i so dumb ?? why did i ever think things would get better ?? when did things change ??

[writing-mlm]

jason todd x reader please 😔

The ShopKeep and the Hobbyist [J.T]

Summary: Jason's been going to this bookstore for long enough that he's developed a bit of a reputation with them. If only the cute cashier would understand he's trying to flirt but as fate would have it, one knife chase later, and maybe they're more than worker and costumer. Pairing: Jason Todd x Male!Reader WC: 7.3k TW: use of fag but its a quote

Jason traveled out of Gotham once a week, always on a Sunday, always to the same location for three entire hours. Everyone knew that Sunday from noon to four— accounting for traffic and eating out that might happen, that Jason was absolutely unavailable. Unless you physically went to track him down. 

But that’s yet to happen. 

It’s Sunday and Jason arrived at the normal spot earlier than usual. Traffic was amazing, no accidents on the way out of Gotham, and the highway was thankfully void. He parked his bike in his normal spot, right in front of the store, and lifted the visor to the helmet before heading inside. 

The Open Book had always welcomed Jason, even when the shop was closed in the middle of a blizzard. And he helped where he could (Wayne Enterprises always made a large monthly donation to the shop and for some odd reason, someone had gifted the shop a fake bird that is able to stop any thefts(odd)). 

“New shipment came in today,” The store owner's grandson greeted him, leaning across the counter to grab at the basket of free candies the shop offered. “Snagged this vintage-looking book collection for ya.” Ever since word that a Wayne kid visits the bookshop, sales have grown so it’s hard keeping certain items in stock. Especially the fancy-looking titles. 

“Do tell,” He grabs a bite-sized chocolate and rips the packet open while you set your lollipop wrapper into your apron pocket before ducking under the counter. 

   “Shits heavy,” You grunt, slamming the box onto the table and read the label. “Uhh, ‘William Shakespeare, Comedies, Histories, & Tragedies. Published According to the True Originall Copies, 1623.’ Original is spelled wrong, though,” You look up at him and pause at his wide-eyed, clearly shocked expression. 

“Shakespeare fan?” You ask, opening the flap to the box. “There’s a bunch of them in here. I think this was someone’s collection.” 

“Do you know how much it’s worth?” Jason laughs, peering into the box, and then whistles. 

   “Probably a hundred at the most,” You shrug and he slaps the table with a loud Ha! that makes you look at him, crossing his arms. “Fifty?” 

“Try nine mil,” The lollipop falls from your mouth as you look from Jason to the book collection. 

   “For all of it?” You gape. 

   “For the top book,” He corrects. “Thank god you snagged it before someone who cared did.” 

“Yeah,” You sigh, staring at the book and taking in all of the details. That’s more than you’ll ever make in a lifetime. “What should I do? Do you want it?”

“Want it like I need air,” He admits, handing you another lollipop. “But you should probably auction it, get a stack and whatnot.”

“Grams would get pissed,” You shake your head and slide the box towards him. “Believes books should be read, not stored as an artifact, yknow? Think she marked this box as a hundred, want me to ring it up?” He looks at you and takes his helmet off so you can fully see his are you stupid? look that’s plastered on his face. 

   “(Y/n),” Jason slides the box back. “This is worth more than every single book in here!” And as much as he pained Jason to say that, he knew it was true. With over two entire floors filled with books, they were but a drop in the bucket compared to that singular box sitting between the two of you. 

“It’s just paper and ink,” You shrug, staring at the box. “Besides, she’d get mad if I did and I can’t exactly hide nine million dollars!” Sighing through his nose, he agrees to buy the box and has you set it aside while he goes about shopping.

“You’re staring,” Someone tells him as they walk past and his head spins around to see who it is. It’s one of your younger sisters, around twelve or thirteen, if he remembers right. 

   “Wasn’t,” He tells her and picks up a book. “I was looking at this book!” She turns back to him and raises her eyebrows at the title before grinning. 

   “Didn’t take you as an Ice Breaker fan,” She chides and walks away while Jason stares at the book. It could’ve been basically any other book. Putting the book back, Jason returns to his actual book shopping which only takes ten or so minutes. He knows his bag is going to be heavy with the Shakeseapre books so he can’t get too many other books this week. 

“Light load,” You comment, scanning the books. “You bought this one a month ago, too.” You note, holding off on scanning A Good Girls Guide to Murder. 

   “My sister wants to read it,” He explains, flipping through the pages. “And she likes to dogear pages.” Cringing, you scan the book and read him his total before leaning against the counter. It’s a large enough counter that most of your body can rest against it while he pays while you use your phone to order some lunch. 

“That place sucks ass,” Jason comments as he’s putting his card away. You roll your eyes and look up at him. 

   “I’m hungry as shit and there’s no good places around within a reasonable price, this place has decent grilled cheeses.” You justify and he finishes paying. 

   “What would you have gotten?” He muses, leaning against the counter so the two of you are face to face. Staring at the sad picture of a grilled cheese you huff. 

“Five guys,” You admit, looking back at him. He nods, silently urging you to continue while looking you up and down, his eyes slowly moving. You also don’t notice it or the small smile on his face when you don’t move away from him. “Strawberry milkshake and grilled cheeseburger.” You finished. 

   “No fries?” He asks and you shake your head. 

   “I don’t really eat fries from there,” You admit, fiddling with the skin around your nails. 

“Sounds good,” He tilts his head a bit, grinning so his canines are showing. He watches as your eyes dip once and then twice to his lips before they finally stay on his face. 

   “It’s fucking good. An arm and a leg, but still,” Standing up, you groan and stretch. He stands up too and puts on his helmet. You watch and wait for him to dip his head down before giving his head two pats. For good luck, of course. 

When he leaves, you return to your seat and look over the shop. There’s a dozen or so people inside, some people who are clearly not there for books as they’re recording those random interviews with the tiny microphones and such. You should really stop them, maybe put up a sign or something. But they’re leaving anyway. So it doesn’t really matter. 

“Did you kiss?” Your sister asks, walking over to grab one of the candies.  

   “Girl,” Your face scrunches and she tosses the wrapper at you but it falls short. 

    “Just saying, seemed awfully close.” She shrugs. “I would’ve made a move on him a long time ago.”

“You’re ten.” Huffing, she huffs back and puts her hands on her hips. 

   “Nineteen,” She corrects. Making a talking motion with your hand, she smacks it away and throws a fireball candy at you. “That’s why you’re forty and a virgin!” 

“Neither of those are true,” You stress, tossing the candy back into the bowl. “And didn’t you just get dumped by some loser who said he’d absolutely eat a turducken covered in chocolate?” She rolls her eyes and walks behind the counter to sign into work. 

   “I dumped him,” She corrects. “Unlike your failed relationship with the guy who wanted you to pretend to be a woman.” 

“Too low,” You sigh, shaking your head. “Too low.” 

—

With your lunch break in full swing, you’re upstairs in the break room watching some crappy straight-to-DVD movie your father had bought years back while eating the very sad grilled cheese when the door opens. Half expecting it to be another family member, you don’t look away from the TV and give a small hey but when no one replies you look towards the door and hum surprised to see Jason there. Even more so on who let him in 

“Missed me?” You grin, watching as he closes the door behind him and rolls his eyes. 

   “Little delivery,” He corrects and motions for you to turn back to the movie. You do, albeit a bit hesitant to do so, but you try not to look back when you hear him getting closer. “Close your eyes, too.” He adds when you look as far back as you can without turning your head. Groaning, you cover your eyes with your hand just to prove you’re not peeking and hear him set something down on the spot next to you. 

“See you next week!” He pats your back before snatching the half-eaten grilled cheese from your hand and you take it as a sign you can open your eyes. You’re not even upset he’s eating your lunch, it wasn’t good. Looking at what he had set down, you see the familiar white and red bag and crack a smile. 

   “You got me Five Guys?” Your head whips to the door but it’s already shutting and you can hear his heavy boots quickly running down the stairs. Turning back to the bag, you pull your phone out and scroll to find his contact. 

Thank you

we feast tonight 

The two of you don’t text much, mostly if he had forgotten something in the shop or given him a heads-up that the bookstore was closed for the day. Hell, his contact name is still Jason (bookstore fav). But he reads it immediately and thumbs up the last text. 

This grilled cheese sucks by the way

It feels like plastic

Probably is lol

While Jason is very much a regular at the shop, you don’t really remember when he first started to frequent the shop. Just that one Sunday, you had seen the time and noticed he was late to the shop. He’d come in almost three hours later than he normally did and watched as you sighed, tossing his favorite candy at him before ushering him to the counter. He listened as you told him that next time he is late he needs to text or you’d send out an amber alert yourself. 

He truly hadn’t thought anyone had noticed the change in his routine. Especially someone he only saw once a week. It had been a really shitty night for him and an ever-shitter morning, feeling like a ghost wandering through Gotham, living in a life he never should have. 

He apologized with a grin and gave you his number. He also spent a little extra time in the shop, loving the familiar smell around him. He loves the bookstore more than he loves his guns, more than he loves most things really. It’s the only normal thing in his life and truly, Jason doesn’t know what he’d do without it. Without you, honestly. He’s only ever there when you are and a place is only as welcoming as the people inhabiting it. 

Which is why he’d picked up the 2 am phone call so fast. 

“Jason?” You whisper shout into the phone. He can hear some harsh wind and some distant shouts in the background, but it took much less than that for him to abandon his patrol and start over to you. “Shit— I’m sorry but I don’t know who else to call.” You add, the clarity hitting that during an emergency you called the guy who lived nearly half an hour away on a good day.

   “It’s okay, doll,” He replies and you dare to glance behind you. Maybe they’d given up by now, but no. “What’s wrong?” He asks as you round a corner. “Where are you?” He quickly adds and you glance at the road signs. 

“Uhh, heading towards Second Ave and Belcher Street. My friend's boyfriend thinks she’s cheating with me and him and his friends are chasing me,” You explain.

   “Guns?” He asks, already leaving the Gotham border. 

   “No,” You huff, the strain of running heavy on your chest. “Just knives.” 

That’s good, he tells himself. Distance is what you should be focusing on. But he knows that the regular person cannot run for nearly as long as he can and realistically, you’re bound to get tired much sooner than multiple people. 

   “Is there a crowd nearby?” You can hear some muffling to his voice but that’s honestly the least of your issues. “Maybe a club or hospital.” He adds when you don’t respond fast enough. 

   “No,” You strain. “Just apartments and shit. God, fuck! Do you think I should climb the fire escape?” There are several ahead of you, and one of them is low enough for you to grab. 

“Can you?” He asks. 

   “Yeah— yeah,” Jumping up, you pull yourself up and start climbing up to the roof. “Shit, I’m really high up,” You pant, daring to look over the edge and see the guys climbing up. “They’re climbing up,” You tell him, quickly backing away and trying to find an exit. What type of roof doesn’t have a fucking exit? 

“I’ve seen people jump from roof to roof,” You're thinking out loud at this point, trying to find some type of solution to your stupid idea. “Can’t be that hard, right?”

“Depends on the distance,” He truthfully tells you and you look at the two nearby roofs. 

   “Definitely too far. I’m fucked.” 

“Still on Second and Blecher?” He asks and you mutter a yeah when you see them reach the roof. 

   “They’re up,” You mumble. “I could jump and live, yeah?” Glancing to your left, you see a dumpster and reassure yourself that you’d be fine. 

   “Do you think you can come back down the fire escape?” He asks. “Is there one behind the building?” Looking behind you, you let out a loud sigh.    

“Yeah— yes, heading down.” Rushing down as fast as you can, you reach the ground as they’re in the middle and run back into the main road. 

“Head back down the way you came,” Jason instructs. He’s only five minutes away at this point, maybe three if he tries hard enough. He just needs you to buy five more minutes. 

   “Okay,” 

Running for what felt like an eternity, your legs are burning and your chest is tight. Maybe that one time you lied during your physical exam was coming back to bite you. 

But they’re still chasing you and Jason is still guiding you. You’re sure you’re about to pass out when a motorcycle drifts in front of you. 

“Red Hood?” You gape, panting. The fuck? 

   “Come on,” You hear him and Jason say. You’ll worry about that once you’re away from those absolute track-and-field freaks chasing you. Getting on the motorcycle, he holds your thigh with one hand before pulling off. 

The ride is silent as you’re catching your breath and just making sure you’re okay in general. Aside from the insane burn in your calves, you’re fine. The ride does a lot to calm you down, by the time he reaches the shop your head is pressed to his back and you’re holding him not as tight as you were before. 

“I don’t know your address,” He admits and you laugh into his back. After all that happened it’s a little humorous that your biggest issue is Jason getting your address. You give it to him and it takes him a second but he has the route mapped out before he pulls back onto the street. 

“I’m staying the night.” He tells you as you get off of the bike. You don’t protest, not in the slightest. You’re far too tired to do so anyway. Instead, you wave him over and head upstairs. He tries to hide his helmet from the camera view but you tell him they don’t work. 

“This guy got robbed two days ago; whole building found out the cameras are fake,” You explain while leaning against the elevator wall.

   “And you feel safe?” He incredulously asks, looking you over. Even buildings in Gotham have working cameras.  

    “I have a gun,” You shrug while he looks at you with more of an analyzing gaze, a little surprised you’d have a gun. “And no valuables. My electronics are all secondhand for that exact reason.”

“So, steal the couch?” He jokes. 

   “If it can fit through the door, it’s yours!” Patting his arm, you exit the elevator and fish out your keys. Thankfully you hadn’t dropped them during the chase. 

“What happened?” He asks as soon as you close and double lock the door. Looking at him, you drop your phone and keys onto the kitchen island before heading back to the door. 

   “My friend, Gina,” You start with a sigh, kicking your shoes off. “She used to be my beard in high school. But we never officially broke up, I guess because she posted a story saying happy six-year anniversary. With a bunch of pictures of us together. Her boyfriend saw and he’s always been…” Rolling your hand, you open your closet and grab a new outfit. “He thinks I’m lying ‘bout being gay. Because I’m too… I dunno what he thinks. But he says I don’t look gay and he’s never seen me with a guy before.” You explain with a huff. “Not my fault I’ve been single for two years, y'know. I got school and work and whatever!” Slamming the closet shut, you sigh and apologize. 

“I’m gonna take a shower, feel free to snoop and prod. And take the boots off, I just moped.” 

“Course,” He doesn’t move an inch as he unties his boots and walks to the shoe rack to set them down. You thank him and head into the bathroom. 

“If you gotta piss or shit, go ahead. I got a curtain and a strong scent blaster plugged in.” You tell him at the doorway to the bathroom. 

  “Noted.” He laughs but it drops once the door closes. 

He finds himself making sure the windows are locked and the curtains are properly drawn. He grabs his phone and saves your address into his personal map before he goes to check to see what type of security measures you have. And there’s not many, just a gun that’s badly hidden in your bedside table and the extra lock on the door. 

But there’s not much to the apartment, the decor is extremely minimal but he remembers you talking about saving to buy a house in the countryside. Or at least outside of a city. Own land and all that. 

He can’t decide if that’s good or not, there’s nothing to steal for sure, but it’s also really sad. There’s no personal touch to your apartment, it reminds him of one of his safe houses. 

He settles himself into the couch once he’s checked over everything, listening to the sounds of the shower and eventually, he hears the shower turn off. 

When you return to the living room in a pair of shorts, you’re a little surprised that Jason is still there. 

“Bruce Wayne as Batman makes a lotta sense,” Opening the fridge, you pull out two water bottles before setting them on the counter. 

“(Y/n),” Jason stops that conversation. “You should file a police report.”

“Fuck is that gonna do?” You huff, closing the fridge and opening the freezer to grab a popsicle. “Gina will hate me, cops will just forget to file it, and then I get harassed.” 

“They tried to kill you,” He stresses, blocking you from moving away from the fridge. You stare at him, a little upset that he’s caring so much. You feel bad for even calling him and sending him out of his way. And now he’s staying for who knows how long. Not to mention now you know his biggest secret— a family secret at that, one that you can tell one person, and suddenly the whole world knows. 

   “Happens every day,” You shrug but honestly, yeah, that shit scared you. His face drops and he snatches the popsicle from your hand before tossing it on the counter to your left. 

“No. Not to you. Not to most people. So what if Gina hates you afterward? Do you want a friend that’s known you since high school who would rather side with her crazy boyfriend?” 

“Of course not!” You groan. “But it’s Gina. She’s always been there and— and this is a one-time thing,”

“You sound ridiculous,” He tells you as he walks out of the small kitchen and into the living room. “Trying to kill someone isn’t a fucking one-off. It’s a crime, a legit crime. Has Gina even checked if you’re okay?” He points to the phone that’s still on the counter; the same phone he knows for a fact hasn’t buzzed once. 

   “No.” There's no need to check your phone, you already know there’s nothing from her. She’d never text you first. He nods as if to say there’s your answer. 

“Look, Jason. It was scary as fuck,” You admit. “But I’m good. And I thank you, but you should go home. I just…” Looking off to the wall. “I don’t know why I called you, I feel like shit for dragging you away from your home.”

“I was spending my night watching Harley and Ivy dry hump in front of a newly exploded power plant. You didn’t take me away from shit.” He blinks before heading to the couch. “Besides, it’s too late to drive back. I’m beat,”

“You’re lying,” You deadpan, tossing a water bottle between your hands. 

   “Am I?” He fake yawns, leaning back on the couch. “Can I get a blanket?” Clearly, he’s not going to leave, and it would be bad as a host to not make him comfortable. Asshole. 

   “Fine,” He grins as you walk away. 

“Oh and Jason, Gram’s told me about the payment plan you set up. Taking advantage of a woman who can’t speak English is rude. She thinks you’re paying five dollars a week for some back dues you owe.” It was actually five hundred thousand dollars a week, which was absurd but hey, if he insists. 

   “It’s just nine million,” He calls back. “Not even my money and B won’t notice it’s gone.” 

Just nine million, you repeat to yourself as you find a suitable blanket. It’s one of those thick fur blankets with a tiger on the front. 

“The couch is a pull-out, by the way.” Heading back into the living room, you tuck the blanket under your arm. “I’ve used it like once. It’s pretty comfortable unless you want the bed.” You add, setting the blanket on the edge of the couch. There’s no coffee table, you don’t see a reason for one. 

   “I can sleep on gravel, doll. I’m fine, thank you.” For some reason, his eyes are having a hard time staying on your face but you’re busy walking back into the kitchen to notice. 

“If you’re hungry make anything, I’m going grocery shopping in two days anyway.” Tossing the popsicle back into the freezer, you lean against the counter and watch him. It’s a little staring contest you have going on. His eyelashes are nice, real pretty boy-esque. 

The silence and tension in the apartment is broken by four rapid knocks to the front door followed by a worried: “(Y/n)?”

“Gina,” You tell Jason as he’s already off of the couch and halfway to the front door by the time you stand up straight. When you walk up behind him you pause, when did he have time to grab a gun? But he’s looking through the peephole before looking back to you and holding up two fingers. You almost laugh, this isn’t some military operation; just a… friend? at your door. 

“Please,” Gina says through the door. “We just— K wants to apologize,” Huffing, you look at Jason who’s standing behind the door, one hand on the top lock. He truly doesn’t want to unlock it, but it’s your apartment. Your call. 

   “Says who?” K snaps, his voice a lot more muffled than hers is. 

   “You’re going to fucking apologize.” She snaps right back. 

He raises an eyebrow and you nod to the door against your better judgment. He unlocks the door and stands in front of them, really standing over them with his damn height, the arm holding the gun hidden behind the door. You can basically hear Gina pause when she sees him. 

“Who are you?” Gina asks, looking him up and down. 

   “A friend.” He answers simply and then looks over to you. “Your friend is here.” 

“Thanks, Jay.” You smile and usher him into your bedroom with two quick glances. “Gina,” You greet a little harshly as you stand at the door. “Kyle.” You look at him for only a second. 

   “It’s K.” He corrects. 

“Can we come in?” She asks, stepping forward. “I explained everything to K and he’s sorry.” She looks back at him and he’s just standing there with this stupid look on his face. 

   “Is he?” You ask, looking at Kyle. “Because when he was screaming: I knew you weren’t a fag; I’m gonna cut your dick off; stop running bitch; and since you wanna pretend you’re a fag come and taste our dicks he just didn’t seem real sorry.” She cringes, he hadn’t said that part through the yelling they were doing. 

“I don’t wanna lose you,” She places a hand on the door, not that you were planning on closing it just yet. “Let us in and he’ll apologize.” Sighing, you look at her and frown. Between not even texting to see if you’re okay and then coming over with the audacity to think that a fucking apology would smooth things over, you were peeved. 

   “You’re losing one of us tonight. Him or me.” She takes a step back and frowns, her eyebrows knitting as your words settle in her. But at that moment, you knew the friendship was over. It shouldn’t ever take that long for an answer like that. 

“(Y/n), he’s sorry!” She almost shouts, shouting as if you had given her this impossible task. You want to reply, you want to yell, and to get into it then and there. But it’s no use. Your neighbors are sleeping, you’re tired, and far from a mood where you want to interact with them. As such, you close the door and put the locks back on. 

She shouts some things from the other side but you’re not listening as you enter your bedroom. 

Jason was standing right next to the door, startling you. If he hadn’t been so close you wouldn’t have seen him in the darkness. 

“Is that a requirement for vigilantes?” You ask, clutching your chest in an exaggeration. “Y’all are fucking spooky,” Tossing yourself onto your bed, you stare up at him. 

“She’s still at the door,” He ignores the comment on his family business once again. Instead, his eyes trained on your front door, watching and waiting to see what their next move is going to be. You hope for their sake it’s leaving because his hand is still on the safety of his gun. 

   “Not like they can get in,” You shrug, laying flat on your back. “I never give my key to anyone and it takes a full round of bullets to break the door.” 

“You know that how?” He asks, setting his gun down on the dresser. 

   “Last year my neighbor's crazy ex tried to break in but the door didn’t budge.” 

“Of course,” His head dips back into the bedroom, watching you. “Sleep, I’ll be in the living room.” 

“Okay,” Turning your head to look at him, you grin. “If you get nightmares, the bed is free.” Patting the empty space, Jason rolls his eyes with a grin and leaves the room. “Your gun?” You call after him, staring at the handgun still on your dresser. 

   “I have two more!” He calls back. 

“How the fuck?” But he doesn’t answer. 

—

The next morning you wake up to the sound of the front door closing. It stirs you, really, but you’re lucid enough to realize that hey, either Jason treated you like a one-night stand or someone had broken in. 

Sitting up in the bed, you collect yourself for a moment and grab his gun on your way out. While you’re surely not as keen as Jason is, you like to think you’re observant enough. The door is locked again, so you figure he didn’t leave and someone didn’t break in. 

“Jason?” You turn the corner to the kitchen and see him standing with a bag of Ihop, staring at you as if he’d gotten caught stealing from the cookie jar. 

   “Good morning,” His eyes flicker to the gun as you set it on the counter. A part of him is proud that you were hesitant enough to bring the gun with you. “I got breakfast.” 

“Aw,” You grin. “Post hate crime meal!” 

“That’s an insane sentence,” He tells you, unpacking what he had gotten. “I didn’t know what you’d like, so I got you blueberry pancakes, french toast, eggs, and bacon. And the orange juice,” He places two boxes and a large cup of orange juice in front of you, then the straw. But you’re just focused on the fact that you know for a fact that wasn’t a random order. You’d posted about that exact order once before. Maybe a month or so ago. 

   “Oh,” You hum, looking at the food and then at him. “That’s sweet. Thank you.” He hums back, dropping the bag down to the floor, and takes his food. He’d gotten strawberry pancakes, hash browns, an omelet, and a coffee. 

Now you feel bad for not having a coffee table. 

“Wanna watch something while we eat?” You point your thumb toward the living room and he nods. 

While in the middle of watching Breaking Bad, you get up to set the empty containers in the sink and the cup in the trash while Jason watches. He doesn’t really know what to do, he wants to sleep, having stayed up the entire night in case anything happened but he’s enjoying his time with you. Even if the circumstances were… less than ideal. 

“Do you work today?” He asks when you’re walking back. 

   “Depends if my sister calls out,” Sitting, you turn your body to look at him. “I work Wednesday through Sunday, most weeks, at least.” 

“Are you going to make the report?” He also turns his body to you, watching as you toss your head back and sigh. 

   “Probably not,” You admit, looking back at him. “It’s more effort than I care to do,” He blinks, clearly disappointed but he’s not going to push. 

   “You should carry a weapon.” Jason’s not really asking, he’s telling you. “How good are you with a gun?” 

“Not sure,” 

“You bought a gun without training for it?” He asks, slowly as if he’s waiting for you to correct him and tell him that you actually go to the gun range in your free time. 

   “My dad got me it when I moved out.” You shrug, feeling a little ashamed because now he’s looking at you like you’re insane. “He said I needed protection and he doesn’t believe in mace or tasers.” 

“Clearly you do!” He throws his hand up towards the door. “We’re going to the gun range today.” 

“Jay!” You groan, nudging his leg with your foot. He grabs it and slides you down the couch. “I’m fine.” He just hums and leans over you, it doesn’t do much. Aside from shutting you up. 

He’s staring at you, his eyes unwavering from yours while you can’t seem to settle on where to look. It’s making you nervous— he’s making you nervous. The proximity isn’t the biggest issue, no the issue is the fact that you don’t mind that he’s above you, his hand right next to your head, and for fucks sake his breathing is even. 

“You’re going.” 

“Yup,”

—

Weirdly enough, the shooting range wasn’t in some building. No, Jason had decided to drive the hour's ride to a private lot. While normally you don’t agree to be in the middle of butt fuck nowhere without your own means of leaving, you were willing to bend your rules this one time. 

He has you help with setting up the cans and the body dummies, which are incredibly lifelike. A little creepy, but whatever floats his boat, you guess. He also puts up a new target sheet on a metal wall before he returns to hand you a handgun and ear mufflers. 

“Don’t hold it like that,” He blinks as you’re pointing the gun directly at your foot. You’re not a fool, you’ve played a couple of shooter games before. 

   “The safety is on,” You justify but point it toward the ground instead. Just to keep him happy. He just sighs and grabs his own gun, pointing it toward the dummy. 

“Stand like this,” He watches you from the corner of his eye as you mimic his stance. It’s a little uncomfortable but very technical. “A little straighter.” Fixing your posture he nods and drops his stance to adjust your grip on the gun. He takes your hands and adjusts them appropriately. “It’s not accurate for beginners, but I learned this way.” He explains as he steps behind you and lowers himself to your height. It’s hard when you’re not the same six foot-five that he is, but that’s neither here nor there. 

With his line of sight that is the same as yours, he raises your hands a little higher and a little to the left. You trust his judgment, you’re no fool on how accurate Red Hood is with his guns. 

It's silent, so silent that you can hear him breathing even through the heavy earmuffs. Whether you like it or not, you start to stop focusing on the task at hand and on him. He smells like your soap, too. It’s a little too domestic for the setting you’re in. 

“Take it off of safety,” He instructs, taking two steps away. Doing as he says, you want to roll your shoulders back but you’re worried you’d lose the position. “Go ahead.” His arms cross as he stares ahead at the dummy and you catch the flex of muscle under his shirt. 

Adjusting yourself as lowkey as you can, you close one eye and press the trigger. It's harder than you would’ve thought, giving you only a moment to back out. Following through, you let the recoil push you back a little before looking at the dummy. It didn’t hit the center of the head, instead grazing over the ear. 

“Close,” Jason looks over at you as you’re rubbing your shoulder but stops when you catch him looking at you. “Again?”

—

“I mean,” One of your friends, Tasha, takes a long sip of her drink. “None of us wanted to say anything but Gina is a bitch.” Frowning, you push around your food with the back of your fork. What was supposed to be your friend group's monthly putting ended up becoming a major therapy session when they noticed that Gina wasn’t there. 

   “Yeah,” Dante gives you a sort of frown sort of smile. “But you’d been friends with her for longer than us, so it wasn’t really our place.” 

“It’s crazy that it took her boyfriend trying to kill me to realize that, though.” It felt a bit weird, she’d always been in your life, and before the whole incident, you never would’ve thought you’d be without her. But life was the same, if not better with her gone. You didn’t realize how much you didn’t need her until now and honestly, you’re just upset it didn’t happen sooner.

Especially considering all of your other friends didn’t like her. 

“Speaking of,” Alex cranes her neck to look at you. “Who’s Jason?” She grins as your eyes narrow. You’re not one to divulge about your life, especially over text. 

   “How do you know about him?” Setting your fork down, she snorts before digging back into her meal. 

   “Girl, I was the Uber Eats driver.” She explains and looks to the others who are clearly out of the loop. “My first order of the day, some guy named Jason with a blank profile. Whatever, right? I pick up the Ihop order— he knows your taste, cute.” She quickly adds. “And then, I get the address. I’m just thinking (Y/n) created a fake profile. Nah, bro!” She covers her mouth to stop her laughing and to stop any potential food from flying out of her mouth. 

“I knock and this tall guy with this hot face scar opens the door. If he would’ve asked I would’ve taken the tip,” And she didn’t mean money. 

“Clearly he already did!” Dante cackles, watching as you drown yourself in the soda you’d ordered. The others laugh while you have to do damage control. 

“Jay’s a friend who happened to be in the neighborhood when Kyle was chasing me,” The three look at each other, ever aware of the fact that you’re staring at your plate while talking. They just assume the friend part is a lie. “And he spent the night. On the couch.” You add, looking at each of them to make sure that they understand. 

  “And ordered you breakfast in bed. And he left a hundred-dollar tip,” Alex swirls her pasta around her fork while the others gape at the news. 

   “Oh girl,” Tasha looks over at you. “He got a sister?” 

“Too young for your old ass!” You laugh while she pretends to be offended. “His sisters are nineteen and eighteen.” You wondered if you should add Barbra to his list of family. But you think she’s more of an acquaintance than family. But you could be wrong. 

   “You know his family?” Tasha’s eyebrows furrow. 

   “I know of his family. Never met that before.”

“Ah, waiting for the one-year mark?” Alex nods as if she had caught the drift you are trying to get at. 

   “Oh my god,” Rolling your eyes, you lean back in your seat. 

“What? You’re acting like you’re not attracted to that man. He’s fine as hell!” Alex pushes her hair behind her ear as she talks. “Might have to revoke your gay card.” 

“I never said that, it’s just…” Rubbing your hands on your pants, your face scrunches. “He could be straight.” Now, you weren’t going to deny the fact that Jason was attractive. He was the embodiment of your personal preferences, but you were a chronic overthinker with these sorts of things. To the point where it needs to be spelled out for you to get any hints. 

“He got you breakfast in bed.” Dante sounds out each word, putting an equal amount of extra emphasis on it. Just to make sure it really sinks in. 

   “I did that for you guys before!” You defend. 

    “Fine— fine, how do you know him?” Tasha asks and the others nod, happily awaiting your response. 

“He comes into the shop every Sunday. He’s been coming for about four years, give or take.” You shrug and they blink at each other. This is why you’re still single. 

    “Isn’t he the one that bought you Five Guys last month?” Dante is now physically turned to you, his eyes wide and you grumble. You never told them about that. 

   “You’re lying,” Alex cackles. “That’s your man and you don’t wanna admit it. Five guys is expensive.” 

“How about this?” Dante rolls his hand before you can even reply to Alex. “If one of Tasha’s friends got her an expensive lunch without asking, showed up to her job every single shift for four years, stayed with her after a traumatic night, got her breakfast, and didn’t leave until she was truly safe; how much platonic energy does that give you?” 

“Not a lot, but—“

“Nah,” Dante holds your hands as he speaks. “I love you, so don’t take this the wrong way but you’re stupid as fuck. He wants you.”

“He wants the books I sell. And my friendship.”

“He wants to spread something other than pages.” He shakes his head and you snort. “Ask him out, if he says no. Then I owe you a grand.”

“You don’t have a grand.” You deadpan and he nods. 

   “I’m so sure he’ll say yes that I’m making that bet.”

“Fine,” You huff. “But if this ruins my friendship you all owe me lunch for a month.” Surprisingly, they all agree and you settle on asking him on the upcoming Sunday. So, the very next day. 

—

“Why are your friends watching you?” Your sister asks as she walks behind you to grab one of the display books and swap it for a different one. 

   “Don’t worry about them,” You mutter, too busy watching the window; waiting for the motorcycle to stop in front of the store. She notices, of course, and stands behind you before deciding it was time to take her break and join your friends upstairs. 

Eventually, you see his motorcycle pull up and sigh, fixing your apron but stop when you hear them snickering. This whole situation was stupid, that’s what you’ve decided. But you’ve made your bed, it was time to lie in it. 

Jason walks in, his eyes immediately finding yours but you’re busy ringing someone up. He grabs the basket from the front of the shop and walks around the shop until he sees the line is gone. 

“Jay,” You grin, holding onto the counter. 

   “(Y/n),” His eyes focus on your hands for a second before he grabs a chocolate from the basket. Glancing at your friends, you fix your posture and reassure yourself. “Anything new?” Typically, you’d already be talking about what’s new but there’s just this hanging silence. 

“Nah,” You shake your head but still double-check the inventory log. “But we’re getting some um… science fiction stuff next week.” He’s not too big on those, maybe once in a blue moon he’ll actually buy one. He goes to talk but your phone dings before he can open his mouth. Watching as you grab your phone, your eyes scan over a text before you huff and silence it. 

“I heard about…” You trail into a whisper. “The Riddler kidnapping, you okay?” Not the best way to lead into asking someone out, but hey. Could’ve been worse. 

   “I’m fine,” He nods. “Arms a little sore but I’ll live.” 

“Long enough to go on a date with me?” You ask, a bit quicker than you intended but thankfully your words haven’t jumped up. He laughs, his eyes closing and you falter, glancing up at your friends for some type of support. 

   “That was a bold transition,” He settles himself down. “When are you free?”

“Oh shit, for real?” You grin. “I’m free Monday. Or whenever you are, really. My shifts are pretty flexible,” 

“I’ll pick you up Monday,” 

“I asked you on the date,” You huff. “I’m picking you up.” He crosses his arms and his eyes lower into a sort of unamused expression. 

   “You’ll pick me up, from Gotham?” He asks, just to make sure you know what you’d be signing up for. Truthfully, you hadn’t. And as such, you weigh your options— you don’t even have a car to offer to pick him up in. Damn. 

    “Fine, Monday at eight.” Giving in, he nods and glances around the shop. 

   “I don’t need a book today, see you tomorrow.” He looks you up and down, this time you watch as his eyes slowly drag down and tilt your head. 

“Looking like you already wanna kiss me, Jay.” You joke as his eyes reach yours again. 

   “Since you offered.” He grins and sneaks one single kiss that lasts less than a second. 

“I get off in thirty,”

[yuikomorii]

am I the only one who thinks that Yui/MC is just a stand in for the player? like, her personality is tame and vanilla, enough so that anyone willing could fit into her position quite easily. Not forgetting to mention you can change the MC's name in the games, and she has no voice in the games. And because that there is no canon ship in otome games in general, because who the MC ends up with depends on who the player wants her/themselves to be with (in Ayato's case, it's only that he's like the standard, the poster boy). So, ever since it came out, I've been in the fandom: I've played all the games, read the manga, interviews, and everything, and especially the drama CDs (which make you feel as if they're talking to *you*), and I came to this conclusion. So you learn particular things of the MC/Yui, for example, her preferences that shape her as an independent character, e.g., having her own quotes, her merch, but still, she just gives me that impression. *This is why I also find Yui-bashing to be ridiculous; after all, her character is basically built to be subdued, so the players can fit in her shoes*— is what I think. Thank you for listening. I really do want your (non biased) thoughts, for this has been bothering me for quite a while, :)

// I honestly believe all heroines are made to be a stand in for the player, because that’s how otome games work.

Yui is a 2012 heroine, therefore it makes sense why she doesn’t have as much uniqueness or personality as newer ones. Nevertheless, I would like to point out that a bunch of Japanese players DON’T actually relate to her that much. They mostly like her because she’s cute and dumb, and they find that entertaining.

On the other hand, there are a lot of avid otoge players who find her too “stupid and mean” for a heroine. I agree with the stupid part, but despite her moments of random bitchiness, I don’t find her as bad as they say. Yet, maybe they played more otome games than me, so their expectations are higher.

I wouldn’t really call her tame or vanilla though. She’s also one of the thirstiest heroines imo, given that she keeps thinking about wanting more sex even after doing it a few hours ago and so on. There’s also an ending in which she cheats for pleasure and then starts being happy when getting railed as a punishment, therefore she might seem innocent, but there are a lot of kinky things going on inside her head. :”)

Other than that, I agree that she appears as a quite plain character, but it can’t be helped, since the LI’s are the ones made to stand out more through their writing in otome games. To me she’s fun, but she might come off as not flashed out to others, which is to be expected from a heroine.

I also agree with you when it comes to the CD dramas and interviews talking about the player, instead of Yui as a whole, because those are supposed to be the most “yume” materials. Rejet confirmed Ayato as the mainstay of the story in some books and magazines, which means that in the official universe, he ends up with Yui, but this doesn’t mean people can’t ship themselves with him or can’t replace Yui with themselves. My friend has an OC and she used to post screenshots of some routes, yet a lot of people kept asking her stuff such as: “Do you hate Yui?” or “Why do you never talk about Yui?” only because the sprite was turned off and the name was changed.

People should let others go through their own otoge experience. After all, otome games were produced like that for a reason. If you want to play as the heroine, that’s good and valid! If you want to play as yourself or your OC, that’s just as good and valid!

[crmsnmth]

Hello

I guess I wasn't clear enough on the third version, so here's Version 4 Introductions are stupid. Hi. How goes it? Here's a little blurb of what I'm all about. I'm 36. I live in a small-town of about 2000 people in the center of the state of Wisconsin. It is not even close to as glamorous as it sounds. I've lived in quite a few other places though, but I guess it's true that we always go home. I work as a kitchen manager/EC. I've been working in the kitchen on and off for most of my working life. My first job was a cashier at a certain fast food pizza place that makes rectangle pizzas. That aren't good, but the breadsticks always kicked ass.

I am a massive music fan (it's playing right now) and when I tell you I listen to all music, believe me when I say all music. My main daily playlist is always growing and includes everything from iwrestledabearonce to Katy Perry (listen to her unplugged album. Kissed a Girl as a jazz type thing is beautiful) to Atmosphere to Miley Cyrus to Alan Jackson to Dying Fetus. My favorite band is Descendents with Amigo The Devil and Frank Turner coming very close to that coveted spot. I am a major horror fan, and I don't think I own a single t-shirt that isn't somehow horror related. I'm a sucker for the 80's slashers. I've seen every Friday the 13th movie enough times that if you ever watch them with me, I will annoy you by quoting the lines throughout the whole movie. I am Bipolar. Type 1. I am a raging cynic.

I am an addict in (long-term) recovery. I am sober. I write more than any sane person does, but I never once claimed to be sane. I write because if I don't, my head will explode. You can think this a metaphor all you want.

I do not write for anyone's approval, not even my own. I do this because it's the only addiction that isn't actively trying to kill me. I do it to get the thoughts out of my head, because if I don't, my head will explode, and I don't really like the idea of my brains splattering around me in a circle. I'd hate to have to clean up that mess. I always love constructive criticism. But please, for the love of all things holy, don't just tell that I suck. I already know that information. It's kind of a big part of my act. Tell me I suck but tell me why I suck. Give me a reason for my suckage. And if you can't do that, then maybe you should just keep your food hole shut.

So what will you find on my tiny drop in the ocean of the internet? You will see bad poetry, and an awful lot of it to be honest. You'll find random drops of fiction or a story I happen to be working on and want some form of opinion on it. I post at least once a day, but can post up to ten or fifteen times a day. And most of it is just your average mundane sad boy bad poetry. And if you see how much I do post, think of how much stuff I have laying around that never gets touched. I have boxes of notebooks, napkins and matchbooks with lines I thought were clever.

So since I write so much, what the hell is it exactly that I write about? That's easy. I'm pretty predictable in the end. So, this stuff: The Girl With Ocean Blue Eyes*, Kid*,The Broken Mirror Girl*, My Junkie Angel*, The Girl From California*, An Ex Band-Mate*, The Drunken Best Fried*, love, lost lovers, hopelessness, isolation, drug addiction, alcoholism, depression, forgotten acquaintances, mental illnesses, rage, hate, rejection, joy, insignificant moments, slices of life, laughter, beauty, self and self-reflection, self-hate, art, other writers, panic, infatuations, obsession, therapy, group homes, rehab, jail, grace, nature, loss, hope, fear, grief, anguish, philosophy, anarchism, nihilism, religion, god, the devil, ugliness, politics, serial killers, cults, suicide, death, destruction, chaos, music, validation, closure, memory, enemies, friends, rock bottom, sex, violence, rock and roll, sin, self-exploration, bipolar disorder, schizoaffecive disorder, pain, self-destruction much more.

Consider this line right here your trigger warning. Please see above to see my chosen subjects, and it should be clear that I will write something that can bring up some feelings. I make music as well for another creative outlet. No, I don't churn out songs like I do the written word, but I love my music and if you would like to tell me how much I suck at it here's the links:

If I come off as extremely depressed in my work, please know that I am fine. I'm good. Ok? Ok.

There, now you know the barest of my bare bones. You want to know anything else, just ask. I'm always happy for the fifteen second interaction. And I always try to interact with those who interact with me, but I am not one to talk first. If you follow me, know that I will most likely follow you back. Unless your space is empty, a bot, or straight-up porn.

*Added 7/2/2024 I get asked about them all time. Yes, I know I'm covered in typos and missing words. I used to try to fix then all but that started to get annoying in here. I apologize for them, but unless thy're pointed out, I'm not fixing them. This is my area right? I'm lazy and you get the meaning of what I'm trying to say.

*Not their real names.

*7/18/2024 Looking for people to read my actual book that I've been working and help with editing and how it looks to other eyes then my own. If interested in the slightest, send me a message and I'll gladly send you the link. I appreciate all the help i can get, as this is the book I would like, if possible, to publish. Thanks in advance If not, that's cool too.

[rebelscums]

Blue (Crosshair x Scientist reader)

Ratings: Fluff | Angst (I mean it’s Crosshair)

Summary: Who knew simply loving a man would be this difficult

Pt 6 of Blue

“And he said and I quote I will not be your lap dog.” I put air quotations around the sentence.

“Lap dog?” Echo trailed off…

“I mean what in Ewok territory is that supposed to mean?” I huffed as I paced around my kitchen, cooking breakfast for the two boys.

Echo and Fives sat on my kitchen stools watching as I flailed my arms about, before flipping the eggs.

“Maybe it’s because-” Echo didn’t get to finish his sentence.

I turned to the calmer domino twin with a sharp look, “I never once said I wanted him to be my lapdog or even imply it for that matter!”

“He’s a loose hinge.” Fives interviewed with a shrug, “I’ve heard stories from the other boys about how temperamental he is. You know, I can shoot him in the hand if you want? Send him back to Camino where 99 can whip some sense back into him.”

“No you don’t need to hurt him.” I chuckled, “And I won’t let poor 99 suffer the wrath of Crosshair. The poor man has already been through enough.”

“But if Crosshair hurt your feelings, it’s only right that I get to hurt him back.” Fives tried to explain his reasoning, “Besides I can get Kix, Jesse, and Hardcase and I know Fox will be in on it too. I just have to give them a call and we will-” Fives was already getting out of his seat.

I shook my head quickly, “No no. I don’t want any violence. Promise me.” I held my pinky out, “Fives.”

Fives sighed in defeat, sitting back in his chair. I was lucky that he conceded none the less as he wrapped his pinky around mine to ensure the promise.

I pulled my hand away from his and placed both of my hands on the counter. Fives was quick to pull his mug of hot chocolate closer to him, protecting it as if it was the most precious thing in the world to him and maybe it was… He did love chocolate after all.

I almost laughed though at the thought that he would somehow believe that I would try and take his drink away, but my mind was occupied over another clone.

“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.” I muttered in defeat, “Maybe he truly doesn’t like me? If that’s so then it might be best if I just hold off from confessing my feelings to him.”

“Whether he does or he doesn’t, I think you should because it would lift a weight off your chest.” Echo explained, “Besides…” Echo trailed off unsure if he should be saying this.

I raised an eyebrow at him, “What?”

“It’s nothing.” He decided on, “But I think it would be best if you go and talk to him. I’m being serious.”

Fives nodded, “Echoe is right and I believe if you don’t get this off your chest I think you might go mad.”

I remained quiet, thinking all my options through as I plated their breakfast.

“Crosshair is at the base today?” I asked softly as I placed the two hearty meals in front of them.

They both looked at the meals like two hungry bears.

“Pretty sure.” Echo nodded a grated full look on his face as he picked up his fork, “Thank you, this is amazing.”

“Of course.” I nodded, “You know I have to make sure my boys are fed.”

“I bet he’s at the shooting range. He’s always there.” Fives concluded, his mouth already full, “This is so freaking good! Thank you!”

I smiled at him, “There is plenty more if either of you are still hungry.”

I said before striding to the front door and grabbing my coat while I slipped my shoes on.

“You’re going then?” Echo asked, a knowing looking in his eyes and a silent prayer to the force that Crosshair won’t do anything stupid.

Even if Echo is now apart of the bad batch and knows how smart each of them can be, he also knows how cruel Crosshair is when facing something he has no control over.

“I’m going to work to work.” I confirmed causally, but they could read me like a book, “Help yourselves to anything in the fridge and like always make yourselves at home. You know where everything is, I’ll be back sometime later after work.”

“Give him hell.” Fives gave me a thumbs up.

“Love you boys.” I gave them a wave goodbye, “Have fun today!”

“Love ya too!” They both yelled and as expected went straight to my fridge.

“I’m done playing around.” I muttered to myself as I waved down a taxi.

I’m going to walk right in there and tell him how I feel… I’m going to tell him… I’m going to… I’m going… I’m…

“Wrecker couldn’t beat my score with an Armageddon on his back.” Crosshair gave his infamous grin towards his brother and leader of the group.

I couldn’t help, but admire his laid back form as he talked with his brother about the last mission that they had before the Winters day holiday.

“Hm.” Hunter chuckled, “Try telling him that.”

“Oh I will.” Crosshair smirked.

I’m going…

I turned on my heel trying to get as far away as possible. My nerves got the best of me as I tried to make a quick escape. My office will do, no one ever goes there.

Force, I can’t face him like this. Why couldn’t I be drunk? It would have made this a lot easier.

“Oof.” I said the moment I turned, bumping into a hard chest, “I’m sorry!” I rubbed my nose as I looked up to find him…

“Steven.” I muttered as I took a careful step backwards.

“Hey! It’s been a while!” He gave me a smile that left me wanting to shrivel away.

“Ah well I’ve been busy.” I chuckled nervously, “I actually have something important that I need to go take care of so if you would excuse me.” I tried to walk around him but he grabbed my wrist.

“Can I get your number now?” He pressed, “I’ve been patient.”

As if. I thought about all the times he has asked me already. If only he would take a hint.

“I’m sorry, like I said I don’t give my number out easily.” I told him trying to sound as apologetic as I could.

“Yeah? Well I asked a bunch of the other scientist under your station and they said they had your number so what’s the deal?” His eyes squinted at me with impatience as if I was the one in the wrong here.

Why couldn’t he just take the hint and move on? There are plenty others he could pursue. I’m sure someone would like him as much as he likes them. It’s just that someone is most definitely not me.

“Look,” I sighed hoping to be as gentle as possible, “I’m sorry and I don’t want to embarrass you like this at work, but I’m not interested in anything you have to offer me. I would very much like us to be respectful coworkers with one another.” I explained, “Now if you could please let go of me, I have a meeting to get to.”

“Why do you always have to lie to me huh? Why?” His hand began to squeeze harder around my wrist, “Why won’t you just give me a chance? I could treat you well!”

I hissed at the pain, “Steven let go. You’re hurting me.”

“No!” He seethed, “Tell me why!”

“I already told you! I’m not interest Steven, now let go!” I tried to yank myself free from his grasp.

“Just give me a chance dammit!” He got the attention of others as he raised his voice, “I’m the perfect gentleman! I brings you flowers, I make sure you get home safe! I even get you gifts!”

“I never asked you to and I didn’t even tell you where I live! I don’t like you and I never will! Now let me go!” I yelled trying to yank my arm away.

My breathing began to pick up as old memories began to flicker in front of my eyes… The war… The screams… Being held down… My parents…

“I don’t know anything I swear!” I screamed, thrust back into that moment… A moment I only wish to forget, “I want to go home!”

It was then that Steven raised his hand, ready to strike my face. My eyes widened in fear and I squeezed them shut waiting for the impending blow… But it never came.

“Usually I let others handle their own fights.” Crosshair’s voice rung threw my ears and I opened my eyes to see him holding Steven’s raised arm, “But you don’t know when to stop so…”

Crosshair twisted Steven’s arm with one quick movement, the scientist groaning in pain as he held onto his wrist.

“Look clone.” Steven glared up at the towering sniper, “This is between me and her so why don’t you just back off and go back to the tube you were created out of.”

That’s it.

My fist reared back before I could talk sense in my self and in just a blink of an eye my fist connected with his nose. An audible crack was heard as well as his screech of pain as he let go of my wrist to stumble back.

“Have more respect for a soldier who puts his life on the line to protect your weasel self.” I glared at him.

I couldn’t even say that I didn’t feel at least a little proud at my job well done.

“And you can have this back, I don’t want your gifts.” I stated as I went to take off the bracelet.

“Don’t.” It was Crosshair who spoke leaving me a bit confused.

“What?” Steven asked appalled, “I didn’t give you that!” He shook his head as he stumbled away to a few of his buddies.

I looked to the bracelet confused, “Who…” I trailed off before looking to Crosshair, “I’m sorry he spoke to you like that.” I apologized, turning my head to where Crosshair was standing… Or where he use to be standing.

His longs strides had him half way down one of the halls already. My force, that many is quick.

“That was one hell of a punch.” Hunter commented, stepping in beside me.

“Thanks.” I trailed off in slight defeat for he wasn’t the person I wished to hear that from.

“He’s never had anyone stick up for him.” Hunter said staring down the same hall that I was, “He doesn’t know how to process what just happened properly if you are wondering why he left so quickly.”

“Oh…” My heart melted a bit at the thought, “I see.”

“What you said back their…” Hunter trailed off and I knew what he was referring to.

“It was nothing.” I waved him off quickly, “Just some old memories.”

I turned to Hunter, one of the few people who understood the mind that was Crosshair.

“Does he like me?” I asked, one to change the subject and two… To find out how the sniper really feels about me.

Hunter looked at me with surprise, “What?”

“I like him and I want to tell him as such, but I don’t know if he feels the same way so do you know if… Well if he likes me?” I asked again.

“I think you should find that out for yourself. It’s best you be honest and tell him how you feel. It might take him some time to process that as well, but once he accepts you as part of his small circle then you are in it for life.” Hunter said before walking away.

Being apart of his close circle doesn’t seem too bad. He’s still going to get a strong word or two from me though with his self righteous attitude problem.

I can’t help, but wonder… Why did he say don’t when I tried to take this bracelet off?

I fiddled with the charm on my bracelet.

It was then that it clicked. Of course it wasn’t Steven who got me the bracelet, it was Crosshair!

“Hey!” I yelled out to Crosshair before he got too far away.

But the reaction I was hoping for didn’t happen, it only made him speed up.

“Seriously.” I mumbled as I started to jog after him, “Crosshair! Stop!”

He only glanced back at me before turning a corner.

I scoffed. At least you’re heading towards my office. You’re not getting away from me this time.

It took everything in me to break into a sprint, I practically threw myself into him as I turned around the corner.

“For the love of clankers woman!” He hissed as he grabbed onto me to keep me from knocking us both to the ground.

“My office. Now.” I panted as I slammed my hand against the panel, successfully opening the door.

He only rolled his eyes, but relented as he stepped into the room. I followed him, making sure to shut the door behind me.

“What do you want?” He crossed his arms.

“Well first I want to say thank you for what happened back there.” I said as I tried to catch my breath.

He nodded his head stiffly, “That it?”

I huffed, “No! You.” I stepped forward, “You kissed me! And I know that it meant something to you just as it means something to me.”

He shook his head before heading towards the door.

“I know you got me this bracelet!” I practically yelled… Pleaded for him to just listen.

He froze, his hand above the panel.

“I don’t know why you didn’t tell me sooner or why you kept it a secret, but I don’t care because I know you have your reasons and I know deep down in that closed off way of yours, you like me.” I spoke quickly, but I knew my point got across from how his shoulders tensed.

“I like you Crosshair.” I said a lot more gently, “I really do Cross so please don’t push me away…”

I took a breath as I waited for a response that as usual was only silence.

“Please say something.” I pleaded with him though his words however short felt like a thousand knives in my heart.

“I don’t like you.” He said barely above a whisper.

“Yes you do.” I said stubbornly.

“No I don’t!” He yelled spinning around to face me, “I don’t love you! Why can’t you get that through your thick head?”

My voice matched his in fierceness and anger, “Because I know what being in love looks like and what it doesn’t and you are! And I don’t care what you say or what you think of me because I don’t think of you as some lap dog. I think of you as a man who lives to fight for what he believes in so believe in us!” I stepped over to the sheet that covered the gift I have been working on for month, “I made this for you because I lo-”

“I don’t believe in us!” He said exasperated, “We live in a life that we could die any day! I can’t even fathom settling down with anyone, do you hear me?”

I looked up at him in shock as I felt my world crumble, but that didn’t seem to dissuade him. It seemed to fuel him.

“You think I got you that? Well you’re wrong!” He lied straight through his teeth as he refused to look me in the eyes.

I knew that he was lying, but it still cut deep because why would he have to lie if i already knew the truth.

He didn’t stop there however…

“You think I kissed you last night because I have feels for you?” He scoffed giving me a once over, “I was drunk and you were there. That’s it.”

He pressed his hand against the panel to open the door.

He barely gave me a glance as he said, “I won’t ever love someone who couldn’t even survive on a battlefield.”

I couldn’t fight the tears as I gripped on the sheet, watching him and any chance that I had with him walk out the door.

I won’t ever love someone who couldn’t even survive on a battlefield.

I scoffed at the words. What does he even know about me? He knows nothing of my life before, of why I was here on this stupid planet. He knows nothing. Nothing and he made it very clear, he never will. I thought as I wiped my tears away.

[cmentary-drive]

Last Friday night

<lore dump>

Quoting my notes:

(Hazel thinking about Lola) I despise her so much for no reason. Everything about her gets on my nerves. Every time i see her i feel a knot in my stomach, when she looks at me I feel as my face gets red, she’s making my blood boil and that stupid smile… makes me hear my own pulse. No one makes me feel that way - i hate it.

End of quote.

Hazel has horribledating history. She has experience with guys who wouldn't are about more than a pretty face and curvy body. Such expectations resulted in her deeply believing she's not good enough to be loved and her value comes only from her looks,her trail of thought being "not worth being loved, worthy of being sexualized at best". Those thoughts are deeply engraved into her soul and they wound her deeply.

With the setting of this picture i wanted to suggest it's some sort of a party and the light is the flashlight from the camera that just took the poraloid. Maybe they were drunk, Hazel definetly was, all she can do sober is get onto Lola's nerves and be a nuisance to her. Alcohol pushed her to kissing Lola.

And it's a difficult situation - they're supposedly some sort of school enemies, Hazel picks up a bone and Lola doesn't let her get away with this.

Hazel's trail of thoughts speaks for itself. She just didn't connect the dots.

As for Lola she does acknowledge Hazel is attractive, but that doesn't matter in the slightest since her personality is cruel.

And is it really cruel? Well yeah, but not because Hazel choose to be like this. She grew up in a toxic family. You know, two people who never should've had children got married only because she was conceived. For what she was blamed multiple times and treated harshly by both of her parents by reminding them of one another - which resulted in her not knowing how does actually being loved feel.

Credits to the picrew I used as a reference

[noodyl-blasstal]

We Got Boned!

I got brainworms from @taakosleftshoe's post this morning and now we're here!

Lup's upset about Lord Artemis Sterling paying his way into a permit to acquire some human remains he definitely shouldn't be using as a jigsaw puzzle in his stupid rich people museum. But it's okay, they're gonna write a book about it.

Read below or on Ao3

-

"I've been thinking."

"About the bones?"

"About the bones."

"I don't like it…" There's a pause. "The bones that is, not the thinking."

Lup appreciates that Barry doesn't ask the usual questions the, "is this because of the… you know?" Followed by a vague gesture which she guesses is supposed to somehow encapsulate the 9 and a bit years spent cradled in her own corpse's hands as the meat sack she lived in decayed.

"I think we can do something about it."

Barry sets his book down. "I'm listening."

"We're writing a book."

"Oooh, that ticks off some of the research requirements at work too."

"See, chagirl's not just the hottest elf you ever met."

"No, you're also the smartest and the bravest and the kindest…" He says it with such fondness, eyes crinkling at the sides, the lines by his mouth falling into place as he smiles. She's glad she got to add to those laugh lines before they gave up on the whole ageing schtick.

"Damn straight."

"...and the second best chef."

Barry's ducking even as she swings herself round to grab a cushion to throw.

"So, we're writing a book." He says evenly as the first pillow bonks off his back.

"About bones." Lup says cheerfully as she flings the next one.

"In general?" Barry asks as it baps harmlessly into his unguarded ear.

"About being bones."

"Oh. Oh that's good!" Barry looks up just in time to get a face full of the squishy fire patterned pillow.

Lup decides that’s enough violence. “It is, right?”

“An autoethnography of bones. No one’s done it before.”

“They sure haven’t."

“Have you got a name?”

“Not yet, I thought maybe you might have a sugg…” Lup’s not even done by

“We got boned!” Barry’s positively gleeful.

“Taako’s going to hate it. It’s perfect.”

–

"I love the way you wove your narrative in with Hodge's theory." Barry looks so proud, she fizzes from the inside out. She found someone who’d read what she wrote, who’d appreciate it.

"Thanks! This chapter about the rituals of death juxtaposed with the time I carved your leg bone is brilliant." She loved reading Barry’s work, he always found interesting ways to guide the reader to conclusions so naturally they’d believe they thought of it.

"You're only saying that because carving a ring out of your dead husband's thigh bone is, and I quote, “fucking rad” and you're glad people are going to know about it."

Lup admires the ring on her finger. "It's also very well written. Stuff can be two things."

"Stuff can be two things." Barry nods in agreement.

Lup reaches out to touch her hand to his.

It was fun to research together again. There were opportunities at the university, sure, but this was different. This was late nights and ad hoc meals, it was falling asleep on the sofa nose in a book, mussed up Barry waking her gently and leading her to bed so they didn't wake up with bad backs. It was exciting, being on the edge of discovery again, being part of the science of it. They lived it, maybe it could make a difference. And if not, the heist would.

Shit! The heist.

"Hey Bear. Did I ever mention why I wanted to write this?"

"Education of the masses?"

"Sure. Yeah. That. But also…"

"Lup?" Barry's doing the fake frowny face, if she waits too long he'll start laughing.

"There might be a teeeeensy heist."

Barry raises his eyebrows and blinks slowly at her.

"Just a little one, honest."

Barry waits, because he's glorious, he's perfect, he's always game for good reasons crime.

"I'm in."

"You don't have questions?"

"Not really." Barry looks thoughtfully down at her, hand still idly stroking her back. "I assume you have the how and I already know the why."

"It’s just a tiny backwards Indiana Jones."

"We're gonna steal the artefacts out of the museum."

"We're save the life-challenged people from the basement."

Barry snorts at that one, exactly like she hoped he would.

"So the book was for the book launch?" Barry asks. Smart man, excellent man.

"Where else would we hold it?"

"Can't think of a better location.” Barry says, nodding.

"Taako's doing the artefact levitation, Magnus is muscle, Merle’s on healing duty, and Krav's there to ensure they're actually gentle."

"You thought of everything." Barry says, and kisses her fondly on the cheek.

–

"So, I forgot about the security." Lup announces to the table.

"Mmhm." Says Kravitz, lips already pulled tight in disapproval. "Have you considered maybe not doing a crime and writing to ask them to release the remains instead? Maybe a petitio…"

Taako drowns him out with a loud raspberry. "You're embarrassing me, Bones. If you don't wanna come it's fine, just means Magnus and I can be faster with the dead dude jigsaws." Taako winks at Lup as Kravitz's eyes widen in alarm.

"No wait, crime's good, I love crime actually. I just forgot."

"Is it even really a crime if he was only allowed to exhume the bodies from the black glass because he bought the permit for it?" Barry asks.

"Yes." Says Kravitz too fast, then winces in pain as Taako definitely kicks him in the shin. "But, er, actuall… oh fuck it. You know what, yes, it's a crime, but I think the Raven queen will approve of this one."

"I'm also slightly concerned about the legality, Dr Lup."

"Who brought the baby?" Taako rolls his eyes.

"Why you did, Sir, remember, I live at your house, you drove Mr Kravitz and I here, you made me the bag of car snacks, remember?"

"It's our house, Agnes, we've talked about this, and we also talked about being cool." Taako hisses.

Lup snorts loudly. "You don't have to be involved, Angus, it's okay."

"Thank you very much Dr Lup, but I think that I might be able to help with the security. There's only two of them, I went to check yesterday, and I think they'd both find a distressed little boy very difficult to cope with."

"The perfect role for Merle!" Magnus says brightly. "He's the right height."

"I thought I might do it, Sir." Says Angus before Merle can reply. "I have…" Angus starts to sniffle. "I have been so looking… forward to a… a chance to act… you see… but if you think Merle would… be a better choice..." Tears leak down his cheeks and he looks so utterly forlorn that Lup's halfway to scooping him into a hug when he smiles. "Acting! See! I'm perfect for the role."

"And the moral conundrum you were wrestling with mere seconds ago?" Kravitz cocks an eyebrow.

"I just thought it'd be funny if Mr Taako thought he was living with two squares, Sir." Angus smiles brightly enough to get away with it.

"So if I'm not the kid, what am I doing?" Merle asks.

"You're our medic. Anyone gets knocked down, you make sure they get up again." Lup replies.

"They're never gonna keep us down." Deadpans Lucretia.

There’s a booming “HA!” from Magnus in recognition.

"Davenport, do you need anything?" Lup already knows the answer. Davenport's already prepared, Davenport was ready for this heist before Artemis Sterling took the bones for his stupid rich person museum.

"No thank you, Lup. I have the plans, the van, and the magnetic signs are ready to go. I thought a cat salon would work well."

Perfect.

"What do we do with them once we've got them?" Lucretia asks.

Lup's got this covered. "Where would they least expect?"

"Back in the basement!" Magnus yells immediately.

"Nope."

"My greenhouse!"

Taako grimaces at the thought. "We don't know if they were over 18, there's no way they're allowed to spend time in the cesspit of sin."

Angus thrusts his hand into the air, bouncing in his seat. Lup cannot believe they raised such a nerd. He's perfect.

"Ango?"

"Where they came from, Dr Lup." He grins, proud of himself. She's proud too.

"Right! What idiot's gonna steal something and put it back where it came from?"

"These idiots!" They chant in unison.

–

The thing about being one of the saviours of the universe and having your lives pumped into everyone’s heads is that no one can dispute it when you write a book about what it’s like to die. They know about every single time already. The falling, The Sword Cupboard Incident, the going-out-in-a-blaze-of-glory, the stabbed in the back and trapped for a decade. No publisher was going to say no, especially not when they realised it wasn’t a hinky memoir - there was no point in that. Everyone already knew. What they didn’t know though, was how to be science, but Lup and Barry? They breathed it.

It turns out that when you’re the saviours of the universe it’s easy to pick where you launch your book, you’re fighting the offers off. When you’re the saviours of the universe you can even get a guided tour in advance, you can bring 5 of your closest friends, and the world’s greatest detective, and no one questions it. Lord Artemis Sterling will give you the tour himself, let you know exactly how little he thinks of the people he stole, reinforce exactly why you’re definitely not planning on stealing any of his collection - cross your heart and hope to die.

When you’re the saviours of the universe no one can tell you that you can’t wear big stompy boots with a cocktail dress for your book launch, or that a denim suit isn’t “fitting” for the occasion. Lup has checked thoroughly, actually, and it’s fitting Barry very well if she does say so herself.

When you’re the saviours of the universe people who don’t give a shit about your book will show up for the launch just to put a sight on you. Just to say they saw the lover and one of the twins, they’ll hope to see the others. They won’t, of course. Apart from Lucreita. The lonely press release writer, noting down the events of the evening for posterity.

When you’re the saviours of the universe, you can get away with a lot.

–

The sound of metal pinging against ‘the nice glassware’ sets Lup’s teeth on edge. Being adored is great and all, but couldn’t it be quieter?

Chants of “speech!” chorus around the room, so she and Barry nod at each other, he pulls the cards they prepared from his inside pocket, and they walk slowly to the podium. Angus smiles beautifically up at her as she passes, this is his cue, she already knows he’s going to shine.

“HELLO NEVERWINTER! ARE YOU READY TO ROCK AND ROLL?” Lup yells into the mic, covering the wailing sound of Angus’ performance beginning as the door swings shut behind him. The audience looks at one another, there’s a single cough.

“I said, ARE YOU READY TO ROCK AND ROLL?” Lup repeats, revelling in the sea of horrified faces in front of her. She throws in a high kick, you know, just because. It’s important to keep all eyes on them and a boring speech is not going to cut it.

“Yes!” Lucretia shouts from a distant corner of the crowd.

“I suppose we could?” Someone else says.

“Great, that’s the kind of energy we love and were hoping for.” Barry says, adopting his very best patient teacher smile.

A small “woo!” comes from somewhere in the mass of people.

“Maybe we’re ready for just the rocking no rolling, Lup?”

“Well, we can certainly show you a medium good time this evening.” Lup smiles and nods at the smattering of polite laughter. The crowd seems slightly relieved she’s turned the energy down, more fool them.

“Have any of you ever been bones?” Barry asks the crowd.

“Yes!” Lup snorts loudly at Lucretia’s interjection.

“How was it?” Lup asks.

“Bad!” Lucretia shouts back. “I was dead.”

“You sure were! And did that mean you wanted just anyone to take your bones and do all sorts of bullshit with them?”

“No!” Lucretia replies, giving Lup an encouraging thumbs up.

“No.” Repeats Barry, solemnly. “And that’s how Lup and I feel too. Every bone, you see, has a story.”

“So when we got boned, it was hard.” Lup says.

“Really hard.” Barry adds, trying very hard to keep his face straight.

Lup notices his mouth twitching and decides to go for broke. “There’s no need to boast Barold.” She whispers, nudging him. He turns a delightful shade of pink. “But what felt best…” Lup says, talking into the mic again. “... was when I was treated with respect. There’s nothing like your own brother stealing your stuff and cheesing it to make you feel like an object, not a person, even though it definitely wasn’t his fault because he couldn’t remember you.”

There’s a loud “Ha!” From a man in the front row, the person next to him elbows him hard in the ribs.

“No no, go ahead, that’s a good one, honestly. Just wait until we get to the bit where I made this.” Lup holds up her hand to show off her shiny white ring and grins wide. There’s a groan from a woman on the left. Lup hopes there’s at least one terrible first date happening here tonight.

“Bones, by their very nature, were part of a living breathing being.” Barry starts to work from the cards. He’s right, of course, they probably shouldn’t stray too far from the plan, shouldn’t front load too many of the anecdotes. “But once flesh leaves bone, we often forget the humanity of them. We don’t look at a person any more, we look at an object. An object to be taken, studied, stored, or displayed. We don’t often consider who they might have been, which grave markers we have taken them from, or whether there are families missing them.” Barry takes a moment to look out across the crowd. “When is it okay to take a body?” He asks no one and everyone all at once.

They wait.

Someone always cracks, eventually the heat of the silence will get to them and they’ll popcorn their way into an answer. It never fails in class.

Lup nods encouragingly, makes eye contact with anyone stupid enough to look up in this moment.

“After a thousand years.” Someone shouts up.

“Yes, so the historical argument is a good one. What’s the point in the militia looking at a skeleton from thousands of years ago? Why shouldn’t the remains become an artefact, each bone catalogued and recorded.”

“Yeah!”

“I’ll ask another question, what makes a person?”

There’s a longer silence.

“Who are you?” Lup asks. She loves it when people have to think about this. It’s rare they consider what the stuff of them is, beyond a name or a place or a purpose, the context of their lives.

“Lucretia!” Shouts Lucretia.

“You sure are. And who’s she? Is she books and journals and learning?” Barry asks.

“Fuck off Barry, I learned to fight! I made a second moon!”

“You did.” He says, voice softer for a moment. “But how would we demonstrate that in a museum?” He looks patiently around the room again.

“An information board?”

“What would we put on the information board?” Lup asks the room, they’re getting bolder and she’s delighting in it.

“The stuff about the moons.”

“And?”

“Her name!”; “The fighting stuff!”; “Journals on display.”

“All good suggestions, but how much of that context can we give? And how do we get it from some bones?”

“Research ‘em.” Lucretia’s beaming. Lup needs to bring her to more conferences to heckle.

“Research them!” Barry agrees, happily. “We wrote this book for multiple reasons, we wanted to share our experience because it’s important to encourage learning, but we also wanted to help people think differently.”

Angus sneaks back into the door, flaps his hands in a complex circle motion and purses his lips. Lup assumes he’s doing the bird call he practised earlier, thankfully him arriving back is all the signal she needs.

“Anyway, the main thing we want you to remember is that skeletons are people too. Thank you bye!”

Lup drops the mic.

Barry, many years deep in his conference circuits with Lup, reaches out to catch it before it fully leaves her hand. “Thank you for your time, please remember to buy your copy of “We Got Boned!: an autoethnography of death, respect, and being rad litches who can’t die.” Have a lovely evening and enjoy the canapes.”

Lup’s glad she didn’t knock the softness out of him, glad that the years apart didn’t take it either. She hopes people do buy the book, that people do care. But most of all she hopes that the people below them are currently speeding to freedom in the back of a ‘cat shampoo’ wagon.

Angus sniffles and grabs her leg. She bends to comfort him. “The mongoose have left the nest, Dr Lup, I repeat, the mongoose have left the nest.”

“The otters have built the dam?”

“Pardon?” Angus looks up at her his adorable little face scrunched up with confusion.

“Just messing with you Ango.”

“Oh. I… I knew that. Good one, Dr Lup.”

She winks at him, then scoops him up onto her hip - the next part of the plan was flawless, no one could argue with kid tears. “You ready?”

“I was born ready.” Angus replies, tears already welling in his eyes. “I was so… scared.” He wails. “I thought… I’d… never… see you… again.” The sobs are coming thick and fast.

“Oh no, don’t worry little man, you’re back now, but what have I told you about wandering off?”

“That I shouldn’t do it.” Angus says through his tears. “I’m going to be in so much trouble with Mr Taako and Mr Kravitz.”

“It’s okay, pumpkin, we don’t have to tell them.”

“I already did, I messaged them on my stone and they said I have to come home right away?”

“Right now, Angus?”

“Right now. I have to go home right now.” He wails loudly.

“Oh dear, well let’s go find Barry, I’m sure he’ll understand.”

Angus is shaking against her shoulder and Lup has no idea if it’s with laughter or the best fake-tear education Taako could give.

“Oh no, what’s wrong Angus?” Barry’s face is lined with concern as they approach him.

“I have… to… go… home.” Angus snuffles out between sobs. Lup tries to mop at his face, but soon realises he’s already soaked his hanky through. Incredible.

“Do you have a…?” She waves Angus’ handkerchief at Barry.

“Of course, oh dear, poor thing.” Barry hands over his denim pocket square. “I’m so sorry everyone, this was a fascinating discussion, but you can’t argue with that face, it seems like we’ll have to be off.”

“Surely you don’t both have to go?” A tall man with a well waxed moustache asks.

“I… miss my Grandpaaaaaaaaa.” Angus wails.

“Oh buddy, I’m so sorry. What can we do to help?” Barry asks.

“I’ll never be… able to see him… again because he’s… dead…” Angus is definitely reaching now, but thankfully everyone looks alarmed enough by the invocation of a dead grandfather that they’re not going to question it. “... but I’d like to… go home.” The sobs are thick and fast now.

“Oh Angus, of course we’ll take you home.” Lup pets his hand lovingly. “Won’t we Bear?”

Barry nods.

There’s grumblings around the circle, but no one is willing to outright tell a crying child no, especially not when Angus sobs even harder and reaches for Barry. If he’s not careful the kid’s going to give himself a nose bleed and Taako’s never going to forgive her if Angus gets hurt on her watch. Barry grimaces apologetically and takes Angus from Lup, who simply shrugs the universal ‘what can we do?’ at the group.

“Angus, you’re a genius.” Lup whispers to him as soon as they’re safely bundled in their coats and waiting outside for Barry to bring the car.

“Thank you very much Dr Lup, I thought my performance was excellent. You should have seen the guards.” He whispers back.

Lup dabs at his dry eyes with a fresh handkerchief from her pocket, just in case anyone’s watching.

–

“There’s pizza.” Taako waves his hand lazily in the direction of the kitchen. He’s strewn across Kravitz’s lap feeding him bites of cookie.

“Did you cater the heist?” Barry asks, as if he hasn’t been part of this family for years, as if he hasn’t heisted with them before.

“What are we, animals?” Lup and Taako ask together.

“Yeah, okay, I walked into that one.”

“So we’re all good?” Lup asks the room.

“We were so respectful.” Magnus shouts, appearing from the kitchen, mouth half full of pizza.

Lup glances to Kravitz, he nods subtly. That’s good enough for her.

“Everyone stashed safely?”

“I organised some plant cover to be extra safe.” Merle lounges on a beanbag there’s no way he’s getting out of without help.

“Organised or organ-ised?” Barry asks. “Wait, actually, no, I don’t want to know. Don’t tell me.”

“Too late, let me tell you about the dwarves and the ivy.” Merle crooks a finger and smiles his dirtiest old man smile.

“Pizza you say, Taako? In the kitchen?” Lup grabs Barry’s arm and pulls him out of danger.

“Thank you.” He squeezes her hand.

“No no, thank you.” She replies.

Lup hops up onto the counter, grabs a pizza slice with one hand and uses the other to pull Barry closer.

“We did it!”

“We did it.”

He kisses her, she kisses him right back. It’s only illegal if someone catches them.

“None of that on my ship.” Davenport shouts from the hallway.

Lup rolls her eyes and kisses him one more time anyway.

–

Lup huffs and throws the paper down.

“Still nothing?” Asks Barry.

“Still nothing. They didn’t even notice.” She doesn’t mean to take it personally, it’s good really. The longer that it takes for them to realise the bones are gone, the less likely it is to be linked to their event, but still, still. He cared enough to steal 12 year dead bodies from their graves, surely he wanted them for more than just the prestige? Infamy? Lup didn’t really know what the term was. Maybe he was just rich and bored and fancied trying his hand at archaeology. Either way, he hasn’t worked it out yet.

They’ve been scouring the paper for weeks, asking Krav to ask Sloane to ask Hurley if there’s anything rumbling, but there’s no word that Artemis has noticed the much emptier basement of his “museum.”

“Did I tell you that Lucretia found another family?” Lup asks.

“You did!” Despite hearing the news before, Barry sounds just as excited as she does. The relief has been palpable every time they’ve facilitated a reunion. Questions answered, a family able to care for their loved one in the proper way.

“I saw you matched another few sets of bones too.”

“Yeah, he jumbled them down there, hadn’t preserved them properly either, but I’ve been working on it. I’ve been talking to them while I work, it’s nice when they help out, makes it easier too. I’m glad they approve.”

“Who wouldn’t want you pouring over their bones? Handsome nerd paying endless attention to my body? Sign me up!”

“You can have that any time you’d like.” Barry says. He winks, corny enough to unbalance the smoothness of his words.

She loved him endlessly. Perfect, wonderful man.

[heronoegg]

could we know what the backstory behind mina getting autopsied was? i know you said her mother permitted it while under the influence, but why? and who is "some people"?

doesn't have enough backstory to back up what im saying but the long story short is somebody once had a AU where Mina was a real alien and she had an autopsy and i just thought the idea was neat cause she's a alien girl there was never really any thought behind me giving her autopsy scar but i have to make something up

I HOWEVER DO HAVE SOME BACKSTORY FOR HER MOM

I HC Mina was on accident, didn't mean to have another kid, cause they already had one which is Mina's big bro, so her parents accidently had another kid which is her.

Mina reminds me of Amy rose from Sonic in the sense that she says she wants to fall in love one day but can't really do it (its somewhere on her wiki that Mina said this in the novel i think. That she likes to match make her friends but falling in love herself is tough to do DONT QUOTE ME I MIGHT HAVE READ THIS SOMEWHERE ELSE), it reminds me so much of Amy, and i have headcanons for Amy that her parents aren't so in love the way she wants a relationship, like "wow, my parents are the opposite of in love when i grow up i want to be in a loving famliy"

so that carried over to Mina, my version of her mom for one reason or another she's for a lack of a better word is one of the those mom's who drink alot and is never truly sober. she is not the worlds most awful mom but she doesn't really take care of her kids and she ignores them a lot when they were little cause she didn't want to take care of them resulting in the kid's liking their dad more cause he was an awesome dad, Mina remembers her dad, she was a daddy's girl

KEYWORD: WAS

Mina's dad dies idk going to a location maybe work and gets in the middle of a hero fighting or something. leaving the kids with their mom, Mina's brother at the time is old enough to go to school and take care of both mom and Mina so hes the one doing everything. ima say he's like 16 when she's 5 he doesn't go to hero school he's just a cool dude

---warnings of me not having enough knowledge on a subject so i keep saying "i guess" or "i don't know" cause i don't know and this is just off the top of my head thoughts, if somebody could truly come up with a better reason im open to listen cause these are just not well put together thoughts ----

as for the Autopsy thing it sounds stupid but like ya know, gotta come up with a reason for stuff i guess im perfectly fine with having 0 explanation and just doing stuff but i'll give you my thoughts i had while trying to find a reason before i gave up.

Mina's mom is a alcoholic, she's gonna come home wasted, she's gonna come home barely able to process anything, in her drunken state she mistook Mina for a alien cause she's like a weirdo (no offense to people who do believe in aliens) who believes in aliens but it's not that far fetch when mutants can look like anything. and im under the assumption that she associates with weird people who also believe aliens are real, so she takes her daughter to them while she's drunk and tells them this is a real alien.

Mina is extremely confused

im unsure how the autopsy situation happens but it probably traumatizes Mina if they didn't knock her out with some strong meds, they cut her to look at her organs and was like "Yo man this is normal, nothing here is alien" my next thing is after they fix her up somebody probably uses a quirk to either make her forget this happen or something like this cause they don't want the police on them so it's like this never happened, but Mina has the scars but never ask questions about it

How this even happen and Mina lived, i don't know, how this even happened and her mom didn't go to jail? Maybe she did go to jail, cause theres this whole other idea i have where Mina gets put with her auntscause her brother for some reason or another can't keep her legally? idk and mom is probably in jail so she gets put with her aunts who dislike children like actually are bad people and mistreat her HOW SHES GOING TO UA LIKE THIS IDK but it's a blessing to her moving into the dorms

the bad part about this is Mina's mom's spiraling and she probably does have good memories with her mom it's just she has a really bad drinking problem and i feel like i can see Mina now, as a hero in training going to see her mom and asking her if she would like her to help her go clean and get her life back together, cause Mina doesn't hate her mom, she just dislikes her aunts cause they were created to be garbage that's why i didn't name them cause i dont care about them and im the one who made them exist lol

this is unfinished ideas, don't know why they are semi-morbid and strange it just b like that sometimes

[our-transgender-experiences]

Hello everybody! (CW: LGBTQ-phobia is mentioned)

I only wanted to know whether I'm real transgender or transTRENDER... Let me explain now. Sorry for being so long, but it's my most honest confession.

I was a stupid boy ("girl") till I was 8 and never realized I was not cishet 'cause my parents "censored" everything connected to LGBTQ+ and "unobtrusively" convinced me that I was a straight girl (tbh, politics and sex were also forbidden topics in our house; interestingly enough, my family ain't religious, all of them are atheists). I didn't even have a thought that a boy could like boys and "a woman may want to be called a man." I gave no thought that I might not be what my parents want me to be: a straight girl who loves her husband and has children.

I only learned the word "lesbian" when my aunt accidently said it (I was 8 y. o.), and after I asked my dad the meaning of this word. He got absolutely furious and only said, quoting, "These are mentally ill girls who need to be rap... ahem, who need to have s*x with men." So, like, you know now how it was in my family.

I "had" a "crush" on my best friend when I was 9-10. It was totally made up by me because EVERYONE (our parents, friends, classmates, and even teachers) would ship us, not even listening to our "no." My dad was absolutely happy that I "have found a future husband, like every normal girl," and I just felt disconnected from this. Not only with the "found a future husband" part but also with "every normal girl" part, too. Nonetheless, I suppressed every thought like this.

I only got internet access when I was 10-11 y.o. I was getting into puberty and hated my chest: I couldn't find a reason to explain this to my parents, who knew about me disliking my growing breasts. Subconsciously, I wanted to be like my the most favorite guitarist (he's a man) from the band of my childhood. I couldn't understand what was wrong with me and why I couldn't be like him. But I quickly thought it was because of my chest and was actually right.

The first time I saw the word "transgender" was when I turned 12. I learned about the pronouns and felt a strong connection to she/they and he/they set. I tried using "he/they," but I stopped in a day due to the simple fact that it felt unusual. I immediately banned myself from thinking of this, putting a limit: I can only be an ally. The problem was that I never had any strong position because my parents were constantly brainwashing me. So, I have seen some posts about radical feminism... and sooner became a TERF.

Honestly, radical feminism helped to accept my aroaceness, but it's the only good thing it has done to me. I started hating men simply because they were men, and I also started wishing death on all trans people for "supporting gender stereotypes." I had no reason for this: I was just brainwashed by TERFs when I was 13. I didn't support the whole feminism: I only hated trans people because... why? (P. S. I still hate myself for this period of life) TERFs forced me to think I am proud to be a girl, even though I MYSELF (!) never believed in it. Also, it is worth saying that being radfem was actually quite popular (if I can say it) in my country in 2020-2021 / 2022 (maybe it's still popular now, idk), so many girls were (or are) into that.

Deep down, when I looked through the photos of my favorite guitarist and thought he was handsome... and I felt jealous since I'm not like him, but I quickly restricted myself from thinking of this. I didn't know it was gender envy.

When I was turning 14, my ex-friend helped me to realize I had masculine features. And then I realized I was a guy with he/they pronouns (I go by he/him now). And I felt... relieved? It’s as if my life has acquired colors that weren’t there before this moment. I had no idea what my name was... My deadname always seemed to me so usual, but not mine, and my inner boy was almost killed with TERF's f*cking ideology. I googled some boy names and... I found an amazing one, which was the best for me (even if it wasn't typical for my country).

I went to the psychologist (who turned out to be an impostor and did not have a diploma). She said I was the girliest girl she had ever seen, and I'm faking it.

I have changed SO many labels, trying to find the most suitable one, but now I just label myself transgender man and don't give a damn. I have two names now: the one I have chosen when I was 14 and the most recent one when I realized nobody's gonna call me by my first chosen name. Both feel nice for me, and I'm even thinking of getting the other two (I'm fascinated by Janick, Dariusz, and Friedrich, honestly, but I believe 5 names will be too much for me). The guitarist I adore is still my gender envy. 🤣

I WANT to look like a man and transition... but I always think I'm not trans enough. I nearly killed my real self, letting my parents and TERFs decide who I am. What if I'm not trans and just faking it? What if the internet has brainwashed me, and I'm not real trans? I don't wanna be a "typical masculine man" or a "typical feminine woman," I wanna be myself. And my real me is dead. What if I'm just a gendervoid and can turn into everything: girl, boy, nonbinary, bigender, etc? What if I have lost in my dreams and I'm a girl? What if I'm just a transtrender?

Sorry for being so long. Thanks for reading. Sorry for taking your time.

you are 'trans enough', and even if you decide your not later, thats fine. you can be whoever you want, forever. i'm happy that you figured it out, despite terfs and parents.

also, you dont need to apologise for sending something, its what this blog is for!

[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

Chain smoking

Following the results of this poll, here is a ficlet based off the winning phrase "You didn't care before. What changed?"

Thank you for voting!

"You didn't care before." Wen Qing says, sipping at her hot lavender tea. "What changed?"

Wei Wuxian says nothing at first, and takes a long drag of his cigarette in place of an answer. The smoke all but disappears into the windy night, and Wei Wuxian numbly watches it disperse into nothingness.

He leans further over the balcony railing, elbows resting over the metal bar. The wind weaves through his long, unbound hair, and he regrets not having put a jacket over his thin sleep shirt, the chill raising goosebumps on his skin.

"I don't know." He replies, at last. "I just... really want him to like me. He's important to Lan Zhan and... I don't know." A laugh, humorless. "I'm starting to sound like Huaisang."

"I don't think it would make a difference to Lan Wangji whether his brother - or anyone else in his family, really - likes you or not. It's not like he'll stop loving you if Lan Xichen doesn't."

Wei Wuxian takes another long drag of his cigarette. "It's not about that. I know Lan Zhan couldn't care less. But I heard something. A conversation on the phone between Lan Zhan and Lan Xichen, they were on FaceTime one morning and I guess they didn't realize they were being a little loud. I got up to see what was up and I caught some of the conversation."

Wen Qing pauses mid sip as she notices the conflicted expression on her friend's face.

"Lan Xichen told him that, apparently, their uncle threatened he might revoke Lan Zhan's inheritance and disown him if him and I..."

Wen Qing's expression darkens, fingers gripping her tea cup tightly.

"But Lan Xichen said he will persuade Lan Qiren into not doing that if..." And Wei Wuxian gestures air quotes "...he is convinced I'm not only looking to marry him so I can drain Lan Zhan of his money."

Wen Qing places the tea cup down and Wei Wuxian notices that the little handle has a fresh new crack on it.

"What did Lan Wangji say?" She asks, taking a cigarette out of Wei Wuxian's pack herself. "I'm asking to see whether I'll behead him or not."

"Lan Zhan said he doesn't care. But I do."

Wen Qing lights up the cigarette with practice ease. "About disowning?"

Wei Wuxian nods, and extinguishes his cigarette in the metal ashtray on the small balcony table. "I don't want Lan Zhan to lose his family because of me."

"That's not going to happen." Wen Qing says, with so much conviction that Wei Wuxian almost believes her. "Lan Xichen has no reason to suspect you of being a gold digger, and you do sincerely love his brother."

"It's not that simple. If people are convinced that you are a certain type of person, they'll only see you like that, no matter how different from that you might actually be." Wei Wuxian lights up another cigarette. "I'm afraid that, no matter what I'll do, he'll take it the wrong way and see something that isn't actually there. I don't want Lan Zhan to suffer for it. For me."

"He'd suffer more without you." She adds, as if having read his mind for the past several hours. "Don't do anything stupid. He would choose you over them in a heartbeat."

"I know he would. But he shouldn't have to."

"Take that up with those that have given him an ultimatum." She extinguishes her cigarette, and takes the pack in her hand the moment Wei Wuxian reaches for another. "Let's go inside, it's late and you had enough of these."

They walk back into the apartment, warm and cozy, still smelling of Wen Ning's cooking.

"Maybe it's cliché, but I think you should just be yourself." Wen Qing says as she begins washing the dishes. "If they can't see you are sincere, at least they'll see how happy Lan Wangji is with you. That's gotta amount to something."

Wei Wuxian lays onto the couch, slightly lightheaded from having smoked so much in such a short period of time, and covers his eyes with his arm.

Wen Qing does the washing up quietly, and Wei Wuxian pretends to have fallen asleep.

[alwaysmicado]

https://www.tumblr.com/free-my-mindd/746081775532605440/chris-mc-geown?source=share <- this is the link i supposed to add in previous ask but dunno why disappeared (i still can't figure out how to add a link in the ask 🤦🏻‍♀️)

read the latest part. my logical side told me that torturing joel somehow means torturing our baby reader, HOWEVER, my rage keep screaming that DON'T LET THAT FUCKER EXIT SO EASILY PLSSS. (of coz i well believe you will keep developing about reader's mind tht this chapter's ending doesn't mean the cloud is cleared or joel is forgiven.) he definitely has not sufferedorry enough. (or will there be a joel's POV chapter to let that fucker explain himself?)

what can i say about tommy? i thought their relationship is so unbelievable (in good way). where would the world got a married guy that still care a girl enough that pick up drunk/cry-call in the middle of night and not hang up? (or my friends are just too shitty 🤦🏻‍♀️) hope i didn't get it wrong from this chapter, besides the common ground from their traumatic history, tommy is just an extremely sweet guy? stupid question here - they seems cleared the prospect of romantic involvement but still able to keep a close relationship. <- i should get this from this chapter or that will be further flashback about this?

thanks so much for your great work and patience to read my rambling 💛

Hi Rachel 😍 Oh yeah, this quote fits reader perfectly:

there were two reasons I was scared to let people in; the damage they could do, and the damage they could find.

After Sunshine, @witchofthedeepwoods was also saying that Angels Like You by Miley Cyrus reminded her of reader and I couldn't agree more!

It's not your fault I ruin everything And it's not your fault I can't be what you need Baby, angels like you can't fly down hell with me I'm everything they said I would be

About Sink or swim:

he definitely has not sufferedorry enough. (or will there be a joel's POV chapter to let that fucker explain himself?)

First of all, you calling Joel a fucker is so damn funny to me, I dunno why 😂😂😂

Second of all, YES! The ending doesn't mean it's all resolved. Not at all. It just means that she's finally ready to be honest with herself, with Joel, and also with Tommy (since he knows now anyway). I guess we'll have to see if Joel makes the right call in the next part and is able to reassure reader somehow that he really is serious about her 😌. What I have planned for sure is to write out the confrontation between Joel and Tommy. I dunno yet if I'll post it separately or within the next part, but it's coming.

hope i didn't get it wrong from this chapter, besides the common ground from their traumatic history, tommy is just an extremely sweet guy? stupid question here - they seems cleared the prospect of romantic involvement but still able to keep a close relationship. <- i should get this from this chapter or that will be further flashback about this?

I think Tommy sees a lot of himself in reader and that's why he understands her so well. And she is comfortable with him 'cause she really feels like he does understand her without judging her. Plus, he's proven over time that he won't abandon her, and that's also huge for her.

At this point, their relationship is platonic and they both appreciate it for what it is. I'm not gonna tell you if that was always the case or if they had more going on after their first night (or even what happened there exactly). Maybe I will some day, but for now, you're free to imagine whatever you like 😋.

I could imagine that Joel's got his own thoughts/questions about their relationship though hehe. But, as @pattwtf and I discussed, I'm positive that Joel honestly wouldn't care either way.

Thank you for reading my story and taking the time to share your thoughts!! It's so much fun and I appreciate it a lot! 😍 Have a wonderful day! 🤍

[all-pacas]

I'm in love with the "and i am my father's son" fic of yours - enough for me to stop rolling my eyes at the "sister retcon" (I used to think "Why give him a baby sibling? The backstory we have was more than enough. The fact that the other details given in S8 were perfectly coherent with the ones given in S1 made the whole thing even more frustrating). The Rowan/Robert and Danielle/Victoria (just making up a name for the mom) are the best part(everyone in this family is so fucked up).

Is it me,or there was a hint of envy in Robert's outburst while talking with his sister? I mean,she seemed to feel supported by their dad in a way Chase never felt. Of course,there was fear and resentment. However,money never appeared to be enough for his problems(irresponsible alcoholic mom,absent dad,a baby sister with no one to care for her). Whereas Danielle was clearly having a good time in the clinic - and even making friends(a great asset when it comes to handling addiction). That might even be a parallel with Rowan himself - it might be mere speculation,but I feel that him being an immigrant from a country that has faced serious hardships during most of the 20th century while his children are a couple of "sunny rich brats" in a peaceful,stable country didn't come without any kind of difficult emotions,to say the least. Therefore,whenever Robert and/or Danielle were being particularly "unpleasant," Rowan noped out of there. Okay,I know him being from Central Europe is something that only happened because the writers couldn't be bothered to hire an actual Aussie instead of picking some random old white guy with a shit Australian accent and then tossing in some random nationality to excuse the accent, but they still did it.

Anyways,I love the fic. Now deal with the word vomit 🤡

ahhhhhhh oh my goodness thank you! And yeah, at first the Sister Retcon seemed so blatant and pointless, but the way it just makes history repeat is just ! Chase literally does the same thing to her as their dad did to them, it's so fucked up, it's so good. It adds so much. And honestly, his backstory was fucked enough without adding the trauma of raising his sister. I love it, because on the one hand it's totally understandable. A child shouldn't be put in that position. It is perfectly reasonable that Chase would cut and run. On the other hand, it's absolutely not fair to 'Danielle.' It's cruel, it makes things worse. It's just. It's so good.

Is it me,or there was a hint of envy in Robert's outburst while talking with his sister? I mean,she seemed to feel supported by their dad in a way Chase never felt.

That's what I was going for, yes! :) He sees Danielle doing exactly what their mother did, and he's sort of lashing out and panicking. He just immediately assumes history has repeated and he's about to be stuck taking care of her and watching her die. On the other hand, Danielle… fff it's so weird because it's headcanons for my fic, but. I feel like she and Rowan actually got along okay. Rowan did seem to regret how Chase had to deal with everything when he left; it's been a decade or so; he's… still not parent of the year, but he takes Danielle in after 'Victoria' dies. He's paying to send her to rehab. He's… trying.

And Chase never got that support, he never got Rowan trying to parent. He can't imagine it's real, he fully believes dad is going to maybe try for a week or two and then kick Danielle to the curb, or that if Danielle relapses once then it'll be on him to take care of her. He just doesn't trust or believe that Rowan can change, is capable of being a parent, and thinks Danielle is naive and stupid for it. But he's jealous, too.

Quoting myself here:

"You'll be fine," Robbie says. When their mum finally died, their dad had taken her in, given her a bedroom done up in pinks and frills. Not Robbie. She'd only been four; he'd been seventeen and eyeing flights out of the country, across the world.

…Like, part of this is that she's four years old, Rowan can't just toss her on the streets. Meanwhile Chase is old enough that he can rebel, that he trots off to England for seminary. I think he resents Rowan for not taking him in, but also hypocritically doesn't think about the fact he skipped town, you know?

Okay,I know him being from Central Europe is something that only happened because the writers couldn't be bothered to hire an actual Aussie

The weirdest part to me — I looked this up once. The actor they hired is Belgian. Why did they make him Czech? Clearly, being European was a choice, being Czech was more of a choice, they could have made him be a Belgian immigrant, but…??

But yeah. Rowan… honestly seems like a fascinating dude in and of himself. He grew up in Central Europe! Assuming he's the same age as his actor, he was born in 1938, so he got to live through German occupation, Soviet occupation… it doesn't excuse him being a shit parent, but I can absolutely see how all that would make him simply incapable of being anything but deeply repressed and miserable. He throws money at his children because he can't connect with them on any level. He couldn't cope with his wife's alcoholism and addictions and traumas, because he absolutely is the type who doesn't really think mental illness exists; you should just suck it up and cope. And to have this emotional wife, this emotional son, this much younger daughter (I headcanon that 'Victoria' got pregnant on purpose to 'save the marriage.' It did not work. Danielle was not a wanted child by anyone.)… like, he's still the worst. But it's just a perfect storm.

Anyway. I had an idea of writing a fanfic set much later on — Cameron finding out Danielle exists and deciding to Force Reconcile the siblings. I have a… lot of thoughts about all of it. I can go into it if you'd like!

[jellycaustic]

So, I love The Hobbit, and Lord of the Rings, but I haven't read them since I was a kid. Obviously, a reread is in order, and that's how I'm getting myself out of my months-long non-reading rut. To increase my absorption and retention, I'm also doing a book journal! And at my dear bestie @hartmannyoukaigirl's suggestion 💖, I'm posting a bit of it here.

This will just be some noteworthy quotes and a bit of my thoughts on them. If something I mentioned seems obvious, it's because it's been such a long time. If I don't mention something, it might be because I've already seen it discussed around here frequently or otherwise that it's obvious, or that I've noted the quote for myself but don't have anything to say about it.

The Hobbit, Chapter 1 - "An Unexpected Party"

There is little or no magic about them, except the ordinary everyday sort which helps them to disappear quietly and quickly when large stupid folk like you and me come blundering along, making a noise like elephants which they can hear a mile off. one morning long ago in the quiet of the world, when there was less noise and more green, and the hobbits were still numerous and prosperous

These quotes make it sound like The Hobbit would have taken place on Earth, not Middle Earth, like a more usual fairy tale with imps and brownies and the implication that if you believe hard enough maybe you can still see them. Placing it in Middle Earth makes it sound like inter-racial relations declined some time after the events of LotR. Sad to imagine :(

It was often said (in other families) that long ago one of the Took ancestors must have taken a fairy wife. That was, of course, absurd, but certainly there was still something not entirely hobbitlike about them, and once in a while members of the Took-clan would go and have adventures.

Of course this quote has been discussed endlessly, but I'm just going to say that given that a fairy wife is clearly absurd, and yet the Tooks are certainly unhobbitlike, I have to wonder what the true reason is for their proclivities. And is the absurdity of a fairy wife the existence of fairies or the willingness of a hobbit to marry one?

"Not the Gandalf who was responsible for so many quiet lads and lasses going off into the Blue for mad adventures? Anything from climbing trees to visiting elves--or sailing in ships, sailing to other shores! Bless me, life used to be quite inter--I mean, you used to upset things badly in these parts once upon a time."

Even climbing a tree is an adventure. What occasion did Gandalf have to cause a hobbit to climb a tree? Was that even intended as an adventure or was it just so bizarre that it stuck in Bilbo's memory? Hobbits have visited elves, perhaps as recently as within the last 50 years. Were these "quiet" hobbits the aforementioned Tooks, or genuinely respectable and supposedly entirely unadventurous hobbits? And Bilbo is clearly more adventurous then he'd like to believe; is that just his Tookishness or is that common to even ordinary hobbits?

"Dwalin and Balin here already, I see," said Kili. "Some four, I should say by the sound," said Fili. "Besides, we saw them coming along behind us in the distance."

I'm not quoting it all, but the dwarves all come in separate small groups, and though travelling close together, aren't coordinated. A measure to avoid the unlucky thirteen?

On silver necklaces they strung The flowering stars, on crowns they hung The dragon-fire, in twisted wire They meshed the light of moon and sun

The Silmarils?

As they sang the hobbit felt the love of beautiful things made by hands and by cunning and by magic moving through him, a fierce and a jealous love, the desire of the hearts of dwarves. Then something Tookish woke up inside him, and he wished to go and see the great mountains, and hear the pine-trees and the waterfalls, and explore the caves, and wear a sword instead of a walking-stick.

The dwarven song is explicitly magical.

they were all looking at him with eyes shining in the dark. "We like the dark," said all the dwarves.

Dwarves have reflective eyes, perhaps night vision.

"Where are you going?" said Thorin, in a tone that seemed to show that he guessed both halves of the hobbit's mind.

Given his smoke ring games with Gandalf, Thorin definitely has magic about him. I'm sure Bilbo is easy to read, but it's also possible that this is better than a guess.

"may the hair on his toes never fall out!"

Is that a genuine hobbitish blessing, or is Thorin guessing? He could be assuming an analogy with dwarvish beards. Bilbo doesn't comment on it.

"If I say he is a Burglar, a Burglar he is, or will be when the time comes. There is a lot more in him than you guess, and a deal more than he has any idea of himself. You may (possibly) all live to thank me yet." "That would be no good," said the wizard, "not without a mighty Warrior, even a Hero. I tried to find one; but warriors are busy fighting one another in distant lands, and in this neighborhood heroes are scarce, or simply not to be found." "That is why I settled on burglary--especially when I remembered the existence of a Side-door."

Gandalf clearly appreciates the importance of Roles. I suspect this passage had a great influence on Terry Pratchett.

"From what it says on the map I should guess there is a closed door which has been made to look exactly like the side of the Mountain. That is the usual dwarves' method-- I think that is right, isn't it?"

Gandalf sounds like he's unsure... but he's been around enough that I'm surprised by that. I think that, actually, he may be explicitly giving Thorin the opportunity to confirm him so as not to be speaking over a very important dwarf about a matter of dwarvish culture.

[qumiiiquinnquin]

im scared to tell my psychiatrist i tried to end myself twice within a month (sep-oct). i dont know why i am. i have to call the office myself since im an adult now, but im really scared making phonecalls. i have to do it because its been since april that ive seen my psychiatrist but i have to do it. i dont know when ill do it, im too scared. that fear frustrates my family a lot. i feel like im already a failure of an adult and will continue to be like that forever.

today was mostly good, just uneventful until this evening. but now im feeling depressed and i want to cry until i cant anymore, but i cant cry, so i just feel bad. i dont feel tired so i dont want to sleep, but its almost midnight so i should soon. im feeling stressed out about needing to call the psychiatrist's office, so i dont feel like i can relax at all.

ive just been feeling bad a lot lately but thats not new, i say think that to myself every other week or so. whats making me sad the most right now is hating my art. i dont have any confidence in my art but i want to get better, but i dont think i ever will. i will always have mediocre talent, no matter how hard i try. i keep thinking about burning my physical art and either deleting my digital art or just even destroying my laptop, though the latter is very excessive, but i still think about it every now and then out of frustration. i want to give up but i really dont know what else id do, ive always drawn since i was very little, its always made me happy. i really want to not care how upset stopping would make people, including myself, but if i dont stop out of just purely giving up, i probably will stop because i k!lled myself.

every day is feeling the same, it even felt that way when classes were still going. i got so used to the schedule that i got used to the systematic cycle. i partially dont want classes to start again because of that, its boring and the amount of work is stressful, im just going to go back to breaking down and nearly attempting from stress and lack of confidence that i can really do this, that i can really power through and get the degree i want. i keep getting told im smart and always work hard, but that really doesnt mean anything now. being and doing those things doesnt suddenly mean that because of those things, ill survive the stress. it only actually makes it worse, like im ridiculous for feeling the pressure and have the mental health collapses that i do because of college, that im not trying hard enough and am lazy.

for some reason the desire for love has been on my mind and i dont know why, youve seen the pathetic longing things i say about romance. right now i feel like i am missing out and am a failure by societal standards for not even have dated in my life, and i still dont have a partner at 18 years old. i feel extremely lonely to the point that seeing other couples makes me depressed, which is probably selfish of me. i feel like and believe now that i will always be alone. i know i am not beautiful to anyone, i know i am not funny, i am not interesting, im a pain in the ass, im too much to deal with and am just unlovable in general. i hate feeling this way, i never cared about romance or relationships and have always been repulsed at the idea of me ever being loved romantically or being in a relationship. i feel stupid. i feel like a jerk. i feel like i deserve to be alone forever, and i really do. or maybe, just end myself, if im so unlovable in every way, then why not just weed myself out? whoever takes my place will be much more worth it than i ever could be. its so stupid thinking about myself d*ing from a broken heart. "just grow up, sad excuse of a grown adult." (in quotes because its a direct thought to myself towards myself, nobody else)

i really doubt everything will get better, ive felt this same exact way for 3 years now. sad, burntout, stressed, like im nothing but a problem for my family, a burden and waste of time to be around or talk to or care about. i did attempt once in 2021 but failed, obviously im still alive. i really want to try again. im really scared of pain, so im trying to find the quickest way or the least painful option. if i just call, i can get different meds or a different dosage and i wont feel this terrible. im so childish for an adult to be unable to make a fucking phonecall. i feel like next year might be it, im not sure why i get that feeling, but i dont have any reason to keep going. im not looking forward to anything. nothing is really that fun or exciting, i just try to distract myself. i know im not wanted, and im too difficult for my family.

its now a half hour after midnight because im incapable of shutting the fuck up. i might just lay down and watch youtube or cry myself to sleep, whichever happens first

[aerifth]

3 am rebirth spoiler thoughts

sifting through some of the direct translated japanese dialogue from rebirth has me reconsidering a few scenes... by the way i finished rebirth and thought the ending was a little stupid but the emotional impact worked on me so whatever. anyway

i have a bunch of Big questions that are sort of swirling and intermingling as more time is spent by the community breaking it all down and speculating. a couple of my big ones right now are:

- why is zack's timeline healing?

- what the fuck is the dream date?

- why can only cloud see aerith, and the crack in the sky?

and i think these all are connected, in that breaking them each down helps me get the bigger picture. a big concept right away thats been on my mind: does despair signal the end of the world?

in intermission, we see zack entering the church to find no aerith but her flowers dying and a bunch of townies sobbing for a previously unknown reason. in rebirth, we learn his world is dying- marked by the scar across the sky. this is a common theme across all of the alternate universes- tear in the sky, locals believe the world to be ending. what if one is causing the other?

i believe that these alternative timelines /are/ fragile, but not necessarily predestined to die- not any more than our planet is predestined, for instance. all things die, eventually, but what if that great despair is a sort of self-fulfilling prophecy? people believe the world is ending, and so it does.

zack is the wildcard here. we're left to assume that aerith, somehow, saved him by taking control over the whispers- otherwise, we don't fully understand how zack was able to unite with whats left of the otherwise post-remake sector 5 civilians. zack, throughout the entire story of rebirth, is constantly trying to outrun his fate; constantly trying to uplift others and get them to believe that something can be done, and that they still have a life to fight for. we periodically check in with the aforementioned flowers, and something strange happens: over the course of the story, they start to come back to life.

we hear from biggs that the lifestream is "all dried up", in one of the offshoot timelines. there's no more mako left to take from the planet. if we're to assume this is precisely how these worlds are dying, then that means, at least in zack's main timeline (terrier), there is a lifestream. one that is healing. this can't just be aerith, somehow - one might assume it's a sign of her return, following her death, but this regrowth begins long before approaching aerith's destiny.

on that note: the dream date. in the japanese direct translation, the thing she says to cloud in the beginning is a little different.

"simply returned to the planet? or returning?" is a notably different line, if only because it's a little more direct than her quoting sephiroth's one-liner about a "homecoming". i'm still not 100% on its meaning, so i'll explore a couple of avenues.

my first inclination is that, somehow, this is implying that this is something they've done before. not literally, per se, but it's an awareness of the original game's events that suggests this is some kind of reunion of a cloud with an aerith. this, regardless, is echoed in the final scenes of ch 14 anyway. after the dream date, cloud seems far more aware of what's happening to aerith, and when fighting jenova lifeclinger, he mentions that he's "done it before, he can do it again"- something that can only really imply that he's now much more aware of the original games events than before. aerith and cloud even talk about meteor before it's been cast, making it sound like they know what's coming. you could interpret that because of this "enlightenment", that is how he can see the crack that the party cannot. maybe aerith could see it herself the whole time? it would give another meaning to why she "hates the sky", enough to have gone back and retconned her final line from remake before rebirth came out.

that was a doozy, but the other interpretation of aerith's dream date line is that they're somehow between life and death. maybe not in a literal way (though in the main timeline, both are unconscious), but in a way that maybe suggests the true nature of the alternate timelines. aerith take cloud on a date that is intentionally very similar to when zack takes her shopping in crisis core, which is solidified in the japanese dialogue where she quotes this original scene directly.

i'm left wondering if these timelines (or at least this one) are made of memories. hodge-podged together worlds with no destiny or motivation to exist, just to be as they were until they no longer can. it's a little shaky, but the way things interconnect in general is very hard to tell right now. in the japanese text, sephiroth calls the lifestream's alternate realities "layered", which would explain a bit how this could work (inception style - literally a dream (date) within a dream (zack's world). the game suggests that consciousness can be transferred between multiversal bodies, so i don't think coma aerith and cloud just suddenly got up and were fine. they seem more separated, and even when cloud is able to visit that body and see zack in the gold saucer hotel, he still can't just get up and move. he's confined in the same way zack's cloud is.

the big point i think i wanna make here is that i think hope is what is fixing zack's timeline. without him, the world would be doomed to die, because without him everyone else is already resigned to their fate. sephiroth wishes to use negative emotions and despair to choke the lifestream out of being functional, which i think seems to happen innately. zack's world heals as a result of him spreading hope. it's a sentiment echoed all throughout rebirth: if you believe, you will.

this could also be why cloud's world has a crack in the first place. if the party had been resigned to their fates, unwilling to think they can change it, then the world they inhabit will reflect that. cloud, the one who made that change in saving aerith, can see the truth- he is fully free from the shackles of hopelessness, free to make his own destiny. the rest of the party, however, mourning aerith's death, are already feeding into sephiroth's plan. that despair on a global scale is what he's wanted the entire game- it's why he's fueling the shinra-wutai war. global scale despair to choke the planet out of its hope.

this was a big brain dump and im not sure how much it holds any water, but i feel like i'm onto Something that's making sense of what all happens in rebirth. i'm still, like, mega coping that the interview quote about "linking up to advent children" is misleading, because frankly by this point that seems thoroughly impossible, unless AC is just a part of re3 and itll be new and different following the events of the story. aerith half dying already has me checked out a little bit, i think they should've committed to saving or killing her, though it seems that either way she can still be "brought back" one way or another (which seems likely anyway given how some of her most iconic weapons are still awol, and her level 4 limit break, accessible in the original game, is just not in rebirth at all). i don't know!!! this all feels star wars sequel make-it-up-on-the-fly to me and i hope they can stick the landing. i do deeply think if aerith dies at the end of all this then the story sucks and i don't see why they'd bother with all the "changing fate" stuff. i hope these mystery boxes aren't empty...!

[queenofbaws]

ah, and once more, it's wednesday my dudes!

a slightly different update from me this week - things have been slow in terms of words being put to paper lately, and this will probably be the case for a little while. i'm gonna be trying to get a chapter of something out in the near future (probably like wringing blood, but don't quote me on that), then ya gurl may or may not be taking a slightly more official break from the internet to deal with some stuff here at home ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

such is life. ANYWAY, for this reason, i'm offering a few snippets/sneak peeks of multiple projects this week, just to show y'all what's bubbling away on the backburner. if you're interested in seeing any of that, click the readmore! either way, hope you're all having wonderful weeks so far, and taking care of yourselves as best you can <3

like wringing blood from a stone

There were a million things he could say to that, maybe even a million and one. What he settled on, however, was probably the lesser of all those evils. “You kidnapped my counselors.” Travis’s whole face puckered at that, letting him know in no uncertain terms the lesser of those evils had still been pretty fucking evil, in fact. “What did you want me to do, Chris?! Huh? Huh?! You bit one of them! They both saw—” “Oh for Chrissake, quit fucking whispering, wouldya?” Obviously he’d been expecting something else—an actual fight, maybe—and so Chris took Travis’s surprised spluttering as an opportunity to dig his own heels in. “If you’re gonna bitch me out, at least do it with your big-kid voice.” A vein ticked furiously in Travis’s neck, making it look like something was itching to burst its way out of him. He narrowed his eyes to slits, then leaned in until the two of them were nearly nose to nose. He could smell the blood beginning to clot where Jack had split his eyebrow, the ointment he’d smeared over it before covering it with a bandage. “You and I both know,” he began again, still fucking whispering, “That anyone could be listening outside. I don’t—” Before he could finish that thought, Chris threw his arms up into the air, shouting at the very top of his own voice, “I DON’T CARE! I do not fucking care, Travis! I couldn’t care less if you paid me to! Know what?” He cupped his hands to his mouth then, tipping his head back as he did so, and, tapping even deeper into his (presumably very bruised) diaphragm, hollered, “I HOPE YOU’RE ALL LISTENING! I HOPE EVERYONE IN THE GODDAMN COUNTY CAN HEAR ME LOUD AND FUCKING CLEAR!” If Travis’s face went any redder, it probably would’ve started looking purple. It was Chris’s turn to narrow his eyes; instead of glowering like an asshole, though, he flashed him a grin, sarcastic and savage and sharp enough to nearly slice through his tongue. “Big-kid voices, Travvy. Why the hell not, right?”

of mummy men & bathtub soup

“My oh-so-charming brother is just running his oh-so-charming mouth,” Julia said sharply, calling the Smith brothers’ chit-chat to a screeching halt. “Here’s what I think actually happened: Conrad made up a story in his head, decided it was funny, and now he’s done so many mental gymnastics convincing himself it’s true that he believes it too.” Her head swiveled on her neck, only adding to her overall mean girl vibe. “That’s something Connie likes to do, you see, mix up details from stupid made-up bullshit and real life, then decide it’s all real.” Oh. Oh! If she thought he was gonna be easy pickings just because he’d brought a date along tonight, she had another thing coming! Hell, she hadn’t been paying attention to his whole deal! Jules was the one who got embarrassed by this shit when other people were watching—Conrad reveled in it. So he did the one thing he knew would get her goat (the only move a self-respecting sibling could take in a situation such as this): He brought up the bathtub. “If this is about human soup guy, you’re actually calling Dad a liar and not me, sooo…nice try, but my feelings remain totally unhurt.” Then, he waited for what he knew would come next. He held Julia’s gaze. He took a drink. It was Daniel, God bless him, who finally bit. “…human…soup…guy?”

the tale(s) of the champion

“All right. If you are so…determined to have me discuss Hawke, then fine. I will discuss Hawke.” He leaned forward over his desk, a gesture, she thought, meant less to evoke authority than to simply steady himself as he braced against the unpleasant tide of memory. His eyes found hers for only a moment, but that moment was all it took for her to understand perhaps ‘unpleasant’ was too delicate a word to describe a return to Kirkwall. ‘Agonizing,’ maybe. ‘Wretched.’ “Cassandra and I are of a mind on one thing, at the very least—Varric is a liar. However. I would be remiss if I didn’t draw your attention to the one thing, the only thing, I’ve heard him say about our shared time in Kirkwall that at least approaches the truth.” She couldn’t help but notice that Cullen spoke the city’s name in much the same way Hawke had spoken Elthina’s: as though it tasted bitter on his tongue. “Namely, if, for whatever reason, you wanted to find Hawke,” he continued, speaking with a terrible evenness that smacked of everything but calm, “All you had to do was follow the blood. “What blood? Whose blood? Some might argue that since Hawke killed so often, so indiscriminately, that it wouldn’t matter—couldn’t matter—which blood trail you picked. Oh, I’ve heard the jokes. I’ve heard them all. How it must’ve sometimes seemed Kirkwall was populated solely by nameless, faceless throngs of gangs and ruffians that she cut through at nightfall, slashing and hacking her way towards the betterment of the city. How Varric had to keep a running tally of all the vendettas held against her, lest she forget which seedy element might be coming after her next for putting an end to their leader. Hilarious. Truly.” Had Cullen not been wearing his gloves, the Inquisitor had the singular sense she’d be watching his knuckles turn white as bone; the way he’d taken to gripping the edges of his desk, she was a bit shocked that nothing had given way. Yet.

A MYSTERY CREEPS PROJECT OOOOOOOOOOH!!!

"Which is why, boys and ghouls, we’re gonna be packing our bags and taking a roadtrip this weekend.” Which was…also what Ashley was afraid he was going to say. Her shoulders slumped, and she felt Chris turn to her as he noticed, but Josh kept going, as he was wont to do. “Turns out ‘ghost shit’ was a gross understatement. You lovely ladies aren’t going to believe what a little snooping dug up about this place…” “It’s pretty messed up,” Chris nodded. “But pretty messed up in a way that I gotta admit sounds like it’s gonna make a juicy episode or two.” “Or five. So c’mon, hop to. We got a business dinner to catch—on me, obvs—and details to hammer out. You’re not ready for the shit that went down over there. Hope you’re ready to start trending in the true-crime feeds though, because I know I am!” Dropping the book back on the table, Josh hopped to his feet and playfully tweaked Sam’s ear before starting back for the microfiche where he’d left all his stuff. “Hey Edgar,” he said as he passed him by, “level with me here. Have you been a ghost this whole time? Is that why you know all this crap? When we get in the elevator and leave this floor, do you just poof off into the ether and cease existing until we come back?” In a voice so flat, so disaffected, so wistful, that Ashley very nearly forgot about the pang of fear that had seized her at the sight of those five Death cards staring her straight in the face, Edgar sighed, “Don’t I wish.”