#and most people remember it because it's at the beginning

[writerfromthestars]

DP X DC PROMT: Happiness? In this Economy?

Dick convinces Jason to go with him to a party because he apparently "needs to socialize". At this party is also Danny, who is majoring in astrophysics at Gotham University. They run into each other, hit it off, and end up hooking up.

Danny has class in the morning, so he leaves before Jason wakes up, hurrying to get his day started and completely unaware of the fact that some of the ectoplasm he produces has seeped into Jason. (Neither of them tell each other their names, or maybe they're too hungover to remember? Idk, but they don't know each others names. It was also too dark for Jason to see Danny's face.)

Jason wakes up, wondering how the hell the cute guy from last night managed to leave without waking him up. He also feels happier than he has in a while, which he attributes to the fact that he actually had fun last night instead of scowling in the corner.

But the happiness, the calm, it just... Doesn't leave? For some reason?

At first, Jason is willing to accept that maybe the univers is just giving him a day off from the Pit Rage, God knows he's earned it, but when the end of the week is drawing closer and he's still no closer to figuring out why he's so goddamn pleasant all of a sudden, he starts to freak out.

He tracks this unnatural calm back to the party, and at first, he thinks someone spiked his drink. But the only people who were close enough to do that would be Dick, who would never do that, and his unknown, unnamed hookup.

Now, Jason isn't a very paranoid person, but he was raised during his early teens by the goddamn Batman, king of paranoia, so he immediately draws the following connections:

1. His unnamed hookup was able to roofie him without him noticing, bat training and all.

2. That drug, whatever it was, was strong enough to subdue the Pit Rage, and, seeing as it hasn't returned, that could be indefinite.

3. The only person who has ever been able to remotely control the Lazarus Pits is Ra's Al Ghul, and he still ended up a murderous sociopath, so obviously he doesn't have a good handle on it.

4. This random dude that he met at a goddamn college party may be the most powerful sorcerer in the world.

5. He need sto find this guy before she raises an undead army.

Thus, Jason finds himself in the awkward situation of explaining to his father that he may or may not have hooked up with a being more powerful than a man who runs an assassin cult and calls himself a demon.

The bats immediately begin searching Gotham for this guy, pulling out all the stops to stop this guy before they gain a new supervillain.

Meanwhile, Danny is peacefully going about his life.

Then, he runs into his one night stand and they start dating. Everything is going great for him! Moving to Gotham City was the best thing he's ever done!

Now Jason is even more panicked, because he just met this really cute guy, and now they're dating, but it's a horrible time because he's still trying to find this Eldritch creature.

Bonus ( to add to the misunderstandings):

Say Danny's trans. It's about now, a few months later, that morning sickness makes itself evident.

[yeonzzzn]

phantom and the opera ; park sunghoon

pairing: phantom!sunghoon x afab!reader word count: 3.9k synopsis: a phantom stalks the opera house you currently sing for. a phantom who has eyes and ears for you and only you. warnings: swearing, smut, unprotected sex, murder, blood, sunghoon is well a phantom obvi so he’s dead, mentions of death, MINORS DNI!!!

Sunghoon doesn’t remember when he died—just that he did. His only other memory before his death is how he died. 

Sunghoon held his arms behind his back, tangling his fingers together as he slowly walked the halls of the opera house he currently, well, haunts. He stopped right in the doorway leading to behind the stage, staring at the spot where he was murdered. 

The experience of being murdered was definitely a zero out of ten in his book. And his murderer? Got a whopping two stars on Yelp for being the shittest murderer ever. Home guy just walks in through the back door in the middle of switching between sets and shoves a dagger straight through Sunghoon’s side and twists. Sunghoon was the only one behind the stage that was ready for the next scene, warming up his vocal cords for the big range he was about to sing out. It definitely took him by surprise to feel the dagger pierce through his skin and feel literally everything leak out of his body as he bled out on the floor. 

The next he knew he was standing there, looking at his dead body and being confused as fuck as to how he was still on Earth. Weren’t you supposed to go to heaven or hell once you’re passed? Guess not in Sunghoon’s case. 

And ever since then, he has stalked the grand opera house. He doesn’t even know how much time has passed since his murder or if the man was even caught. He doesn’t even know why he was murdered to begin with. Who randomly goes into an opera house and kills one of its cast members? That fucked obviously. And for what? NOTHING! According to the talk of the people who’ve made their way in and out of the building after his death, all his belongings and even money, wallet, keys—literally everything—were still on his person. 

Guess the guy just needed to let go of some pent-up rage and Sunghoon was just the unlucky bastard who was his victim. 

Again, two stars on yelp. 

Guy is an asshole. 

So Sunghoon decided to take it upon himself to be the local opera ghost and stop any future crime from happening. 

Or so he tried. 

Because ya know, he’s a boo and no one can see nor hear him. The most homie can do is throw some objects around. Real spooky shit. 

So Sunghoon gave up and spent however long it’s been to watch free opera shows and silently or even loudly, judge the shows. Because again he’s a ghost, who can stop him? 

You. 

It all began with you. 

One long night at the opera, Sunghoon continued his normal walks around the building. The show ended and everyone was gone—or so he thought. Sunghoon rambled on about the cast and setting and how completely shitty that version of Wicked just was. 

“Wasn’t this an opera house? Since when did this place start doing random ass musicals and plays?” he scrunches his nose, staring down at his black boots. 

“The owners decided to expand. This building is just a theater now.” 

Sunghoon stopped walking and looked up to see you standing at the entrance to the dressing rooms. 

He raised a brow, turning to look behind him and seeing no one. 

“How did you get back here? This place is for cast members and staff only.” You asked.

Sunghoon once again looked behind him and everywhere around him. There’s no way you’re speaking to him, right?

“Will you stop fidgeting and answer my question?” You snapped, resting your hands on your hips as you took him in, seeing the pure confusion on his face. 

“You can see me? And hear me?” he asked, now fidgeting with the seams of his cape. 

You rolled your eyes and let out a groan, “Of course, I can see you!” you motioned your hand in his direction, “Stop beating around the bush and state your business here.” 

Sunghoon dropped his hands at his sides, tilting his head ever so slightly while he looked at you. Watching you watching him. 

You tried to keep your composure and not be distracted by the handsome man in front of you wearing a really old version of the phantom’s suit from The Phantom of The Opera. Where did he even get that outfit? It’s so outdated. 

Sunghoon was speechless. How could he not be? Someone finally took notice of him. A beautiful woman at that. 

“I’ve always been here…” he mumbles, not knowing what else to say. 

You open your mouth to question him more, just to snap it shut as you fully drink him in. Taking in his deep brown eyes and the moles that surround his face. The way his hair parts and slightly falls in his face. It’s that moment you realize who he was. Remembering seeing his photo in the halls of this theater as one of the best actors and opera singers this city has known. And remembering how he was brutally murdered behind the stage many many many years ago. 

You were talking to the ghost of Park Sunghoon. 

“How…what?” 

“That’s what I am asking myself too,” he said with a sigh, shoving his hands into his pockets, “Guess you might be something special.” 

And ever since then, Sunghoon has been attached to you. The first person to take notice of him in so long. The first person to react to him. To talk back to him. And he means talk back. 

Sassy thing you are towards him. Always critiquing his comments on this new theme of theater, plays, operas, and everything in between. And honestly? He loved it. 

If he wasn’t already in love with you at first sight, he definitely was the moment he first heard you sing. It entranced him. Your acting and your stage presence as a whole set him on fire. His nonbeating heart felt as if it were working again. The way he stalked outside the dressing room that evening, waiting so impatiently for you to step out. 

“YN!” he called out the minute you took a single step out the door. 

You held a finger up to your lips, quickly shushing him. You knew no one else could hear him, but you never wanted to risk it either. Or risk talking to him when others were still in the building. You’d look crazy. Or worse, someone else would notice Sunghoon and realize he haunts this theater. Deep down, in the small few months you have known this phantom, you’ve grown so fond of him, and if he were to just disappear…

Sunghoon quickly snapped his mouth shut, lifting his hand and pointing down the hallway. With a slow nod, you followed behind him until you reached a small room for meetings, closing the door behind you. 

You noticed his body language, and how nervous he seemed to be, “Everything okay?” You asked, leaning your back against the door, “You seemed eager to talk to me.” 

Sunghoon took a deep breath, placing his hands on the back of the chair at the table, gripping it tightly, “I…I just want to tell you how well you did tonight.” 

He’s seen you perform multiple times. But it wasn’t until hearing you sing tonight that really took him over. 

You softly smiled, glancing down to the floor. It was the first time he’s complimented you. Sunghoon has only ever judged every play and would critique all the actors and singers. But never said anything about you. Until just now. 

“Thank you,” you softly whispered, slowly looking back up to see him standing in front of you, eyes searching yours, “Sunghoon?” 

How could he tell you he was crazy about you? How in love he was with you? He wasn’t even sure he could touch you. Yeah, he was able to touch other nonliving objects, but a living thing? 

“Can I try something?” he asked in a low voice, barely lifting his arm. Your heart pounded in your chest and you could feel your palms starting to sweat. You were so sure he could see the nervousness on your face, yet you nodded anyway. 

Sunghoon hovered his hand over your cheek, then slowly cupped your face. He released an exhale and smiled wide, “I never knew how badly I wanted to touch you until just now.” 

Now you were so sure your face was red. Heart dropped down to your stomach, “You’ve been wanting to touch me?” 

He nodded, “Can I try another thing?” You didn’t even answer him, reaching your arms out to fling them around his neck and crashing your lips to his, pulling the phantom against your body, not wanting any distance to be put between you both. 

You also never knew how badly you wanted to touch him until this moment. And it was everything you could have imagined. He might have been a bit cold to the touch, but you swear he still felt warm against you. How was it even possible to touch him? It was a mystery, one you didn’t care about learning. All that mattered was him. 

You don’t even know how long you stood there, pressed against that door with Sunghoon’s tongue down your throat, not that you cared anyway how much time flew by. Sunghoon eventually sent you home, and you couldn’t wait to see him again. 

Sunghoon lost count of the times he’s touched you now. Lost count of the times he’s pulled you into rooms of the theater. The amount of times he’s pressed you against the walls and roamed his hands up and down your body. He was completely obsessed with you and everything about you. Nothing could get better or ruin this feeling. 

Until something did. 

Not just something. Someone. 

Heeseung. 

A new hotshot actor and singer that was added to the current play due to another one falling ill. 

Sunghoon didn’t like him from the moment he looked at you for longer than a second. 

You noticed a change in Sunghoon’s demeanor. Always wearing a frown and creasing his brows. Eyes always staring off, looking far away. 

Usually during practices, Sunghoon’s eyes were always locked on you as he stood on the balcony. Always giving you smiles. But lately, it’s been nothing but frowns and looks of disgust. 

“YN!” Heeseung called for you, running his hand down your forearm, “Want to help me go over this part?” You kept your eyes locked with Sunghoon, watching how he gripped the railing of the balcony, “YN?” Heeseung said with worry, now pulling your arm towards him and you finally meeting his eyes. 

“What? Yes, sorry. I can help you go over this.” 

Heeseung glanced up to where you were staring, raising a brow. 

It took everything in Sunghoon to not jump from this floor. But what could he do? He can’t just yell at someone who can’t even see him. 

Days passed and the closer Heeseung was getting to you. Always giving you smiles during free moments. Standing way too close to you. Touching you more than Sunghoon’s liking, even though he would prefer Heeseung not fucking touch you at all. 

Sunghoon followed behind you after practice, his hand on your lower back, gripping the ends of your sweatshirt, afraid that you’d disappear if he let go. 

“You’ve been a bit different, lately.” You said, keeping your eyes straight ahead, eyes being aware of the ones still in the building. 

“Different how?” Sunghoon asked, his fingers gripping your sweatshirt even tighter. 

You shrugged, “It’s like you are here but not.” 

Your words hit Sunghoon hard. It made him realize how distant he had been. How more aware he’s been over another male than you, the love of his life. 

“YN, I’m—“ 

“There you are!” 

Sunghoon tightened his jaw. 

Heeseung jogged down the hall until he stood in front of you, “Heeseung,” you smiled, and it killed Sunghoon, “You were looking for me?” 

“Yes,” He smiled back, flickering his eyes over your shoulder, staring directly at Sunghoon. 

He can’t see me…can he? 

Heeseung flicked his eyes back to you and smiled wider. Yeah he can’t see Sunghoon, “I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me?” 

“Say no,” Sunghoon said quickly, fighting every muscle in his body from pulling you towards him. 

Heeseung’s muscles in his jaw twitched and Sunghoon could have sworn he saw his ears perk up too, “I just want to thank you for everything you’ve done to help me, being the newbie and all.” 

“Oh, of course!” you awkwardly giggled, reaching behind you in a manner of adjusting your clothing but shoving Sunghoon’s grip on it off, “Thank you, that’s nice of you.” 

“YN,” Sunghoon whispered, “Please don’t go.” 

It was hard to act as if Sunghoon wasn’t behind you. To not react to his pleas, “You don’t have a boyfriend, right?” Heeseung asked, quickly looking at Sunghoon and glancing back at you. 

Did you have a boyfriend? Would whatever you had with Sunghoon count as a relationship? He’s technically dead, was it possible to date a ghost? 

“YN,” Sunghoon whispered your name again. 

You decided on saying nothing and just slowly shook your head, “Let’s just go get something to eat! I’m starving.” 

Before Sunghoon could reach out for you, Heeseung had his hand on your lower back, pulling you along. And the smirk Heeseung flashed over his shoulder when you weren’t looking sent a chill down the ghost’s body. 

There was no way Heeseung couldn’t see him. 

“Sunghoon,” you moan his name as he pounded into you. 

He’d be lying if he told you he wasn’t extremely pissed off that you went to dinner with Heeseung last night. Pissed off over the fact he knew Heeseung could see him, hear him, and knew the feeling he had for you and still made it a point to ask you out. How fucking dare he? 

“Hmm, want to act like a slut huh?” Sunghoon breathed in your ear, gripping his fingers deeper into your hips, “Think just because I can’t leave this building means you can fuck around with someone else?” 

You shook your head, hands gripping tightly to the edge of the vanity he had you bent over against, “Hoonie no, you know why I did it.” 

“Hmm, do I?” he bucked into you harder, your jaw falling slack and wet moans escaping your orifice, “Seems like to me you rather be with him.” 

“No no!” you chanted, pressing your face against the cool mirror, “I only want you. I only want you.” 

Sunghoon knew you only wanted him. He could see it written all over your face every single time he saw you. But that didn’t stop the raging jealousy he felt. And the hatred he felt. 

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, flinging his head back and letting the wet sounds of his cock being buried in your pussy over and over again fill his ears. Sunghoon didn’t think it would even be possible to have sex let alone get his dick hard. But the moment he walked in on you changing after tonight’s practice his desire flooded him. And obviously seeing him get so worked up over you sent you clinging your thighs together. 

“Hoonie,” you breathe his nickname, “Fuck, Sunghoon!” 

“Hmmm, what baby? Tell me what you want huh?” he said slowing down his pace to an undesirable amount, causing you to fuck yourself against him. 

“Please,” you cried. 

“Please, wh-” Before Sunghoon could finish his words, out of the corner of his eye he saw the door creak open, barely being able to see the silhouette of the person on the other side of the fogged-over glass window. 

Sunghoon smirked, picking his pace back up again, making sure he had you screaming and the mirror hitting the wall behind it. 

“Please what, baby?” he growled, “Wanna cum? Is that it?” 

You nodded, “Please let me cum,” 

Sunghoon’s smirk grew, “Tell me you love me,” squeezed your hips, slamming you down even harder on him, “Say how good I fuck you and no other dick can satisfy you, not even Heeseung.” 

You winched at Heeseungs name, piecing together the puzzle of why Sunghoon had been acting so strange. He was jealous. Being protective. Possessive. And you found it so fucking hot. So hot you were spitting the words right back at him. 

“I’m in love with you,” it wasn’t what Sunghoon asked to hear, but you said it anyway, feeling the truth behind it with every syllable, “You fuck me so so so good and no one else can ever satisfy me. Only you, Sunghoon. Never Heeseung.” 

Sunghoon smiled. A smile that was full of love and confirmation that you were his. 

“Fuck, I love you so much,” he moans, towering over your body as he fucked into you, his hands now gripping the tops of your against the mirror, “Fuckkkkk, baby I need to cum. Cum with me. Fuck.” 

The dressing room was now filled with the sounds of your moans as a mixture of yours and Sunghoon’s cum dripping down your thighs. 

When Sunghoon looked back at the door, it was now closed again. 

Heeseung stood behind the stage, cracking his knuckles and stretching out his neck. It was opening night for the play everyone had been working so hard on. It was in between scenes. You were on stage singing a duet with another cast member beautifully for the crowd. Heeseung couldn’t help but smile. He’s had a crush on you since he laid eyes on you, and you never failed to amaze him. 

His smile slowly faded, “I was beginning to wonder when you’d approach me,” he tilted his head to the side, staring into a pair of deep brown eyes, “Park Sunghoon.” 

Sunghoon smirked, rocking on the heels of his boots and twisting his fingers behind his back, “You know who I am? I’m so touched.” 

Heeseung chuckled, “I knew who you were before I stepped foot into this theater,” Sunghoon raised his brows, urging him to continue, “You’re a big name in this town, such a shame what happened to you,” Heeseung fully faced him now, “Death by a stabbing to the left side of your abdomen, right? Went right through your ribs and punctured your lung.” 

Sunghoon was really starting to loathe this guy. 

“I knew you could also see me, there was no way.” 

Heeseung laughed, “At first I thought you were just following and watching our poor YN, until I realized anytime you looked at her…” his facial expression changed to a mixture of anger and jealousy, “She was looking right back at you.” 

Sunghoon tilted his head, “What? Jealous are we?”

Heeseung shrugged, “Maybe over the fact you got to fuck her.” 

Sunghoon was now getting angrier, “You heard her the other day, no one can satisfy her but me.” 

“Are you so sure?” Heeseung took a step forward, “You aren’t even alive.” 

Sunghoon clenched his jaw, “Fuck off.” 

Another step forward, “I bet I could fuck her so so so good,” another step, “Make her cum multiple times,” another step, “Hit all her sweet spots while I bend her over my bed,” and another, “Have her screaming my name so fucking loud she would forget who you even are.” One final step. 

Sunghoon narrowed his eyes, “You won’t fucking touch her.” 

Heeseung laughed, throwing his head back as the sound echoed against the walls. He flung his head back up, now narrowing his eyes back at Sunghoon, “At least she’ll be able to actually have a life with me.” 

Sunghoon’s body twitched. Heeseung took one last step. 

And he was right where Sunghoon wanted him. 

Heeseung barely blinked before Sunghoon was now standing in front of him, faces barely inches apart. Blood filled his mouth, hands gripping Sunghoon’s wrists, “You damn bastard.” 

Sunghoon looked down at his work, seeing the beautiful blade pushed into Heeseung. Right between the ribs and puncturing his left lung, “Ain’t so fun, is it?” 

Heeseung’s knees grow weak, barely holding himself up and eventually dropping to the floor. Sunghoon followed him down, pushing the blade deeper into his body. 

Blood spilled out of his mouth, bloody hands now falling to the floor, “You want to know what is so damn funny?” Sunghoon chuckled, glancing around the back of the stage room, “This is the exact same spot I was murdered all that time ago.” 

Heeseung’s eyes widened, “Well, aren’t you one for an aesthetic.” 

Sunghoon leaned closer to his face, “No, I just wanted to kill you. It just happened to be right where I was killed.” 

It was Sunghoon’s turn to laugh, feeling Heeseung’s blood caking his hands. Is this how his killer felt? The adrenaline rush of hearing skin rip apart by a blade. Feeling the blade graze past two ribs. The feeling of his blood staining his hands. 

Oh, the rush. The excitement. Now he knew why people committed such crimes. 

“Huh,” Sunghoon said with realization, “Full circle. Funny shit.” 

“You’re fucking insane!” Heeseung snapped. 

“Shhhh!” Sunghoon pressed a bloodied finger to Heeseung’s lips, “You’re going to miss the finale of YN’s beautiful voice. 

Heeseung gritted his teeth, his vision fading as he focused on your voice. 

“I’m going to fuck that mouth later.” 

Heeseung jolted forward, using what small strength he had to lift his hands to grasp Sunghoon’s sleeve, “You’re a real piece of shit!” 

Sunghoon shrugged, “I’m the only one good enough for her.”

“You aren’t even alive,” Heeseung said again through gritted teeth. 

Sunghoon slowly pushed the blade in deeper, “I don’t give a shit,” he chuckled, “I’m still as alive as can be because of her.” 

Heeseung’s vision faded more, black spots forming around Sunghoon. He wasn’t going to last much longer. 

He dropped his head to the floor, right at the moment the final echoes of your singing voice bounced off the walls, “I’m going to fucking haunt you.”

“Oh, Heeseung,” Sunghoon cooed with a tilt of his head, “This theater can hold only one fucking bastard.” 

With a final push of the blade in deeper, the color of Heeseung’s eyes faded, body going completely still. 

Sunghoon stood up and backed away from Heeseung’s dead body, taking in his kill. Voices of the cast members appeared from behind him, then screams echoed off the walls. 

“Someone call an ambulance!!!” 

Sunghoon kept his smirk, slowly wiping the dried blood against his pants. 

He slowly turned around, seeing you standing in the doorway. You looked beautiful in the tight-fitted purple dress, hugging your body to show off your curves. So beautiful with the way your hair is curled and pinned to the back of your head. 

Everything about you was beautiful. 

Even the way your eyes filled with tears as you took in your friend's dead body. 

Your eyes shot to your lover, seeing Heeseung’s blood stain his clothing and hands. The tears streamed down your face as you stared so deeply into his eyes. 

Sunghoon’s smirk grew bigger, slowly walking over to you, “What’s wrong, baby?” he whispered, cupping your face between his hands. The smell of the blood filled your senses, stomach turned at the very thought of how it would stain your skin. 

Sunghoon killed Heeseung. 

“I did this for us,” he forced you to look at him and away from the dead body, “I couldn’t let him take you away from me.” You let out a small whimper, “Oh, baby,” he shushed, “It’s okay. I’m right here. I love you.” 

You were at a loss for words as Sunghoon pulled you to his body, holding you tightly. 

No one was ever going to take you from him.

—tags: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @jwnghyuns

@in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi

@eneiyri @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty

@ladyartemesia @criminalyun @enhaverse713586 @wondipity @lhsvibez

@jaeyunq @rikizm @kaykay11sworld @vixialuvs @onlyhyunjin

@enha-cafe @ppanghoon @sunpov @zeeloveshee @hxxsxxng

@moonrisearies @brownsugarbaybee @nshmrarki @vveebee @teddybeartaetae

@kookify @abysofsteel @aileeeeeeeeeeeee @hee-lvrr @1309zip

@moon0fthenight @jakeflvrz @021894s @sendhelpiloveyeonjun @surrik-i

@heeseungsbm @niki-riki-nishimura-riki @star-hoon

[gatorbites-imagines]

In that case… Could I please request Killer Croc/Waylon Jones with a supringly really attractive boyfriend (like a male version Jessica Rabbit level hot, like it dosen’t even make sense for someone to be that hot) who no one understand how Waylon pulled. Waylon’s boyfriend is very sultry and alluring.

And Waylon roughly breeds his boyfriend doggy style 😇.

Thank u :)

Waylon Jones x Male reader

Headcanons

Guten Abend squad, how is everyone doing? Classes are still running at a max level, and I’m starting to think this is just how it goes. So, time to chillax with some Waylon.

Not as smutty as I would have wanted, but this honestly just built a life of its own and started running.

We see in the comics, or at least in one run, that Waylon does have game and knows how to pull somebody very attractive, so its not too surprising so could pull you. That’s what you think at least, since he’s a great guy, to you.

I imagine you two met after he left the circus, maybe you guys even left together. With Waylon being the circus’s “freakshow” and you only being there as eye candy to sell tickets. With you both being reduced to nothing but your looks, you two find solidarity with each other, and fall in love.

No one ever really took your love seriously back then, just thinking you were using Waylon for protection, since someone as pretty as you couldn’t be safe anywhere.

Insert the “seriously, what do you see in that guy?” “he makes me laugh” scene.

If we go with the verse where Waylon was in Halys circus, then the only ones that seemed to have some version of acceptance of your love was the Grayson’s. it was one of the reasons you two left the circus, having a strong feeling of what had truly happened to them and who caused it.

After leaving the circus, you couldn’t live in the sewers like Waylon. This meant you got an apartment, in the beginning in crime alley since it was cheapest.

You may have been so beautiful it would drive people mad, but you also had a head on your shoulders. So, in the end you set up a legitimate business, maybe you even become something akin to a designer. Mainly because your lover is so big, there’s no other way to get him clothes.

And maybe during your time in crime alley, you stumble upon a scrawny kid who, though he may act tough, still has a light in him. And maybe that kid ends up being batman’s second robin, who remembers how kind you were to him and everyone around you, so he doesn’t go as hard against Waylon.

The past you have with the Grayson’s also means that Dick takes it easier on Waylon, and they even settle down and talk at times. You’ll regularly find the two former robins hanging around your art studio, even years later when they aren’t robin anymore.

Your lover goes to Arkham, a lot. But you never hate him or even argue with him. You’ll just pull up to Arkham in your most beautiful outfit during visitors’ hours and hold Waylon’s hand as you two act like a new married couple, even if it’s been twenty at this point.

And it may have been twenty years, but you just seem to have become more handsome with age, aging like fine expensive wine. You don’t become shrewd or corrupted by the world around you, instead you stay kind and patient. You’re still in Gotham though, so you’ll turn violent if you have too.

No one really believes that Waylon purrs, until you show up and he becomes as meek as a kitten, ready to roll in your manicured hand.

Its no secret that you, one of the most famous designers around, and Killer Croc, are together. But its just such a normal part of everyday life now, that no one really questions it. your works never been dirty, you help those around you, and lift up poor and struggling artists whenever you can. So, what if your husband is tearing up the road trying to bite Batman to bits.

Theres a viral video in Gotham of you stepping out during one of Waylon’s rampages, and just scolding him, wagging a finger in his face and still looking so unbelievably gorgeous as you do so.

And yes, of course your design trademark is crocodile scales, or anything along those lines. You’ll never use real crocodile skin, but you do use the print or shape.

After all this time, people don’t fear Waylon as much as they probably should, all thanks to you. Its kinda hard to fear a guy when you know his boyfriend is unofficially titled the most beautiful man in Gotham, who’s also as giving and kind as the Waynes, whilst being more involved in the nitty gritty, since you still live in Crime Alley.

Someone has threatened Waylon with telling on him to you at least once too, which doesn’t stop him, but it does cause him to freeze and get an “oh shit” expression, long enough for people to run to safety.

Being one of the most skilled fashionistas around also means you have met the Waynes on multiple occasions.

The shared past with Dick and the circus, and Jason, though you don’t remember him as vividly, means you get called on more than most.

As you measure them out and start making designs, conversations flow, and Damian most likely ends up bluntly just asking you why in the world you decided to pair up with Killer Croc of all people.

You correct him in your answer, referring to your husband as Waylon, and then you just start waxing the poetics. Of your shared past, of the deep unshakable love you both share, and how under all his struggles, Waylon truly is an amazing man.

You’ve never confirmed that Dick was Robin, even though it was very obvious. Its not your place to judge how he, or his family, deal with their trauma or whatever they have going on. Your lover swims through the sewers, you can’t really say anything.

A few passing comments are made though, obviously. You tell the Waynes to “take it easy next time they see Waylon, wont you?” with one of your heart shaking winks before you saunter out, ready to start putting together your latest design.

Its kind of an accepted, not really a secret, secret. Its never put into words, and they know that you know, and you know that they know you know. Nothing ends up happening with it though, outside of you making some jokes and judging their hero outfits.

With age you’ve become less sultry and alluring, at least in the way the public can point out as obviously as before. You have simply mastered your field, and know just how to play people around you if you need too.

Though, you didn’t really learn to master it for the public. It’s mainly just for Waylon, so you like to see how his nostrils flare, and when he starts chuffing in the back of his throat when you saunter around in nothing but a silk robe.

The bats know that the first place Waylon goes when he gets out of Arkham is to you. But…they also all know to wait at least a day or two before they come for him. To allow you to spend some time together, but also because most of them have caught of glimpse of you… reunions…

Bruce wont admit it, but he’s at least impressed with you being able to take two of them at the same time, even after all these years. He might note down your many skills somewhere… just in case.

Reunions with Waylon are typically a hot and steamy affair. Or well, as hot and steamy as a guy whose as cold as a reptile can get. There are days where either of you may not be up for it, and then its just cuddles and having some nice domestic time together before he’s taken back to Arkham again.

But when it does get hot, then you are very happy you own the entire building. Waylon can get quite loud, but never as loud as he still makes you even after all these years.

Sure, you’ve learned to handle it more after all this time, but it still makes you squeal when Waylon fits both his shafts inside you at the same time, lifting and moving you around like a doll.

Where Waylon may be rough and violent in every other part of his life, Waylon is slower and much more careful in the bedroom. He doesn’t want to lose his senses and hurt you on accident. You have some very faded bite and claw scars on your body, back from when you first got together, and Waylon likes to remind himself of that.

Sometimes you do want him to be rougher about it, so you pull all the skills you’ve gained over the years. And Waylon is but a man, even with the scales and all, so he can’t resist you for very long. It always ends up with you writhing, face in the pillow that’s stained with your tears and drool or pleasure, as Waylon growls and snarls behind you, his big, clawed hands moving you back and forth with ease.

He always feels a bit guilty about it afterwards, especially seeing how much you leak all over the sheets. Expect to find yourself being pampered and loved on for the next couple of days. Even the bats seem to leave you to it, most likely having heard your cries. You get a feeling the people in the next building heard them too. But you honestly don’t care anymore.

You may have Waylon, and many others, wrapped around your finger, but so does Waylon with you. And neither of you really seem to mind anymore.

[marengogo]

UGH!-9: Y’all Done Did It

Listening to the play list Who is Standing next to you 

[Music is a very big part of my life and I’m MOSTLY INCAPABLE of writing without music, so I just thought I'd share what I am listening to while writing this]

–🐺–🐺–🐺–

Yes, I am enjoying my day-off, thank you for asking 😘. In fact, everything was going 🍑y, and then, as I scrolled on my husband’s post to see if other people had requested PIXID and liking all the ones who requested it 💜 I noticed one comment, and then a similar one and then I started scrolling …

WHAT THE FUCK IS ALL THIS?:

The whole time AYS aired I left it alone. I saw this type of comments on the Blue Bird app, but I left it alone.

I thought: “Blue Bird AMI don’t know better Marengo, let them be …”, “Once the show is finished everyone will go back to their regularly scheduled stanning …” … that’s what I kept telling myself 😩 yet; here we are. 

For Fuck Sake:

Are You Sure?! 👏🏾 Is a Jungkook 👏🏾 and Jimin 👏🏾Show 👏🏾. Period👏🏾.

Do you know American Hustle Life? Yes! It is a Joonie, Jin, Yoongi, Hobi, JM, Tae and JK show.

Do you know Bon Voyage? Yes! It is a Joonie, Jin, Yoongi, Hobi, JM, Tae and JK show.

Do you know In The Soop? Yes! It is a Joonie, Jin, Yoongi, Hobi, JM, Tae and JK show.

IT REALLY AIN’T THAT HARD. 

I don't even know how to keep explaining this. Forget the shipping, forget the fact that JK and JM might be a couple, forget ALL OF IT:

I know I still have to do the EI post about JK, but let me say this for the MILLIONTH TIME: JK IS NOR STUPID OR CRUEL. If he, and JM, wanted a show where they would invite members every other episode, they would have a show where they would invite members every other episode and this would have been clear from the very beginning, because just like myself, I believe organization and routine to be a big part of JK’s life. Tae was an exception/special guest. As simple as.

Does this mean that they hate the members' presence? No. Do they want to leave the band? No. Do they think they are the most important members? NO. It simply means that maybe, just maybe, these two particular members particularly enjoy each other’s company. Some of us think it is romantic, the general public think it is strictly friendship: WHATEVER! Can AMI please please please acknowledge all harmless forms of expression? Joonie came out with one of the best albums out there, by himself, and JK & JM went on various trips and adventures together, which they wanted to share with us, AS SIMPLE AS THAT.

Liking Are you Sure?! doesn't make you a shipper, liking Are you Sure?! doesn't make you less OT7, however, liking Are You Sure?! will make you a person who is accepting of whatever harmless forms of entertainment that are being gifted to you by people whom you supposedly care about, and that very obviously means a lot to them, SO AMI NEEDS TO STOP TRYING TO TWEAK IT, BECAUSE THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH IT IN ANY WAY.

Yes I am a bitch, Yes I am petty, and Yes I am also OT7 AMI, an OT7 AMI who thinks two gentlemen in the band may fancy each other, but that is about it. I don’t go around forcing people to believe my perceptions, I don’t go brain-showing people into believing that these two individuals are married and I am very aware that they may just be straight men whom were never even curious. 

Remember my grammar pet-peeve? The one where I explained that Some people isn't the same as All people? Well, the same goes for Are You Sure?! Isn’t the same as A show like Are You Sure?! Like this person commented:

TRANS: A travel show. Something like Are You Sure? With Hobi 💜💜💜💜

This type of suggestion is totally fine. This ☝🏾, implies that the person understands that this particular show is something that two other members did, but it would be nice if two other members would make their own show with similar premises. So NO, Are You Sure Season 2?! Shouldn’t be a show with two other members and NO JK & JM don’t need to invite all the members if they don’t want to. And once again, for the love of everything that is demure,

it doesn't mean that they hate the members.

Okay? Okay.

Ayte, I’ve said all I wanted to say, now it's time for some comfort food & drinks.

またね！💋

Marengo.

[terukotime]

You say you don’t like the killer reveal, why? I actually think dev made some great choices and I’d love to talk to you about your perspective.

i don't want to get too deep into it because, like i mentioned in my previous post, i don't want my criticism to come off as negativity towards the series or discourage anyone involved in the production of the show because it's honestly not a huge deal. like, it in no way ruins the show or makes it less enjoyable for me. and i don't think the choice of who the culprit is is a bad one at all, i'm mostly unsatisfied with the way the chapter handles it.

[spoilers beneath the cut, obvi lol. and please remember this is just my opinion. me having and expressing my opinion is not hate towards the series. i'm nervous enough as it is posting just this and not a bigger essay on all my thoughts because i really don't want to have this be misconstrued, nor do i want any criticism i have to give, regardless of how innocent and respectful my intentions, to make drdtdev or anyone who works on the series feel bad.]

i think Ace being the killer DOES make sense. i have no qualms with him being the blackened, in theory. do i think he could've made for a great survivor, or have really interesting growth throughout the coming chapters? yeah! i would have loved for Ace to be kept around for much longer. but him being the killer this chapter isn’t inherently bad. it's now clear that there's a specific direction Ace's character was meant to go in this story and i think that's fine.

my problem is with what *didn't* happen with Ace's character up to this point.

the chapter hasn't concluded yet so there's still a chance for my thoughts to change, though i don't think it'll make much of a difference. but i'm still waiting to see if it can stick the landing. and even if it doesn't, that's okay. i've already accepted it, i'm just still disappointed by it all the same.

Ace, honestly, hasn't played much of an active role in the story. he's been a source of conflict and comedic relief, and that's okay, not every character has to be as important as Xander or David...but he hasn't really gotten to *do* anything. this series is very character-driven, and thus is very focused on the relationships between other characters. Ace has only had one notable relationship (outside of his feud with Nico, but i'm not really including that as a "relationship" for obvious reasons), and that was with Levi. and that didn't even stay positive for very long. and we also know now that Levi didn't even care about him to begin with because he doesn't care about people in general.

not only did Ace never really get to establish any other relationships, no one ever LIKED him. of course a good portion of the fandom likes him, but in the actual story, no one cares about him. no one will miss him. his death is honestly kind of meaningless character-wise. does it serve as a lesson to some of the other characters? sure. but he's going to be dying here with no one ever liking or caring about him.

Min's story wasn't just a cautionary tale. people did like her, people did care about her. she was friends with a lot of characters, she got to have an impact in the daily lives of others. we got to know her better, the things she liked, her deeper thoughts and opinions on things. she got to do stuff, and we got to learn about her. her death meant more to the characters beyond just being the first culprit. she died as a person, not just as a character.

most of the stuff we know about Ace is surface level or things confirmed in Q&As. he doesn't get to contribute much aside from the aforementioned conflict/comedic relief. i understand where the show is going with that idea, and why him not being liked by anyone is a specific part of what led him to murder, but that's not really what irks me. it's that Ace never got to really be a *person.* he's essentially a plot device, serving the greater "good person" theme going on this chapter, and filling in the smaller roles in the story when needed, like an antagonist in a scene or delivering a gag. yes, his admittance to killing Arei and eventual post-trial trauma dump will give him a bit more humanity and character...but that's not really enough.

we only get to see Ace how the other members of the cast see Ace: his loud, combative, aggressive side. the side that makes people think he's nothing more than an angry meathead who can't do anything right. we never got to see much of his other sides, of a much more somber, melancholic Ace. receiving even a hint of the Ace we see in his confession of guilt beforehand would have given him the depth we needed before this point.

to explain what i mean: imagine how unsatisfying it would have been if we never got to actually see Arei's breakdown in the playground. if Teruko had left before it happened, and we only get to learn what happened from a flashback from David's perspective. we already feel the weight and tragedy of Arei's death when her body is discovered because we knew beforehand why she behaved the way she did, how she never even liked being the way she is, and wishing she could be a good person like Eden. if we didn't get to see that happen beforehand, Arei's death would feel very flat and detached. her character growth would've happened entirely retroactively.

that's how i feel with Ace. it's not like he didn’t get enough spotlight this chapter, he certainly did. but every scene he was in really didn't really add anything new to him. the only thing that "progressed" with him was his hatred and paranoia. we just see him descend with no uplifting moments, no emotional hook to make us feel anything for him. the closest we get is the scene where he's arguing with Nico and Veronika at lunch, ranting about how poorly everyone thinks of him and that they all assume that he's for some reason happy to be the way he is. but it's really the barest of scrapes towards the deeper layers of his character.

a big problem is that there were a lot of chances for his character to actively be *explored*, but instead, the narrative perspective of him stays completely stagnant. the time we get with him this chapter doesn't give him any greater focus. and sure, you could say that that might be a big giveaway to him being the culprit, but i think if the time between character spotlight is distributed evenly, that would be easily circumvented. there was a lot more time that could've been spent building Ace's character beyond his animosity and self-loathing tendencies. we could have had someone actually attempting to bond with him, even if it doesn't turn out well. even if all the characters distrust each other to varying degrees, there's still a lot of characters that like each other or have unique bonds with each other that make them stand out and feel worth remembering, because those bonds contribute something to their characters. but with Ace? he truly gets the short end of the stick, because this isn't just the characters neglecting him, it's the story itself. if Ace got to have a moment like Arei, maybe someone to confide in, even if he wasn't really friends with them or liked them at all, him being vulnerable just once and having a moment with someone else would have rooted him in more as a person who fell victim to what the killing game wanted from him and not just a fictional character fulfilling the purpose required of them in the story.

honestly, it's a bit of a slap in the face, the way the show goes about it. because in hindsight, Ace's whole character is *meant* to be wasted potential. after all, his related phrase on Mai's bio page is "a girl who had a bright future".

he was set up to have the potential to change, the potential to add more to the story, the potential to show us more than what we were given. and i think the show kind of knows that and specifically perpetuates that. the scene where Teruko tells Levi to give up on trying to apologize to Ace almost reads as the show itself telling you to give up on Ace. that, why should we care about him? he's not going to amount to what we want from him. there's no use in investing our feelings in him.

whether or not any of that actually was intentionally doesn't matter, unfortunately, because rewatching so many scenes having this new context really makes it all seem like Despair Time doesn't want you to care about Ace. that Ace is meant to be a waste, that that's the core of his character. him being the epitome of wasted potential could have been great, actually, if they chose to use even a slight bit of that potential to build him up more before his inevitable demise. instead we watch him eat shit throughout the entire show thus far only for him to get royally fucked at the very end in the worst way possible. Ace's theme of wasted potential is only wasted potential because nothing is ever done with him. not actively, anyways. whatever his post-trial confessional is like won't really give us what we needed from the start. Ace didn't just deserve better in his life. he deserves better as a fictional character. he deserved to be a person and not *just* a character. he deserved to have deeper, emotional character moments outside of the trial, long before his murder confession and rapidly approaching demise. he deserved to be 3-dimensional.

again, this is all just my personal opinion, and there's still a chance the show can stick the landing and make Ace as the culprit feel a lot more natural and deserved. i'm not really confident in that happening, but drdt is full of surprises as well as a lot of great writing. that being said, even though i believe they kinda fumbled the bag with Ace here, i don't hate this turn of events. although he's a big favorite of mine, i still wanted Eden to be innocent over him, because she's also a great character and her killing Arei would not only be pretty huge character assassination, but would also make Arei's death meaningless. and i also think there were other characters who could have been better candidates as the chapter 2 killer (not just Hu, i think Levi, Arturo, and maybe even J also could've made for compelling culprits with the right reasons).

i'm content with this. i'm heartbroken he's going so early and i wish the execution of his guilt had been a lot better, but overall it's not terrible. he just deserved so much more in many different ways.

[beautiful-basque-country]

The cave-houses of Lodosa

In Lodosa (Nafarroa) from the beginning of the 19th century to the 60s of the last century, there were more than two hundred cave-houses, and the dozens of villagers that lived in them were the poorest of the poor. In many villages of the region it was common to live in caves dug in the sandstone.

"We had candles and chandeliers. The mattress was made of corn leaves. Those were other times. We used to go to the Ebro to look for water, and then to the spring, one clay jar on the head and the other on the lap." Mari Carmen Molinet Martinez (Lodosa, Nafarroa, 1943) lived in a cave until the age of 8. "There are six of us, and the three oldest were born in the cave. I am the oldest. I've known two caves; the first had a cold room. The second one was on the way to Calvary, it was more humble. I think we went there because the rent was cheaper. Those were tough times. My friends were poor, but we were poorer; I never had a doll that was mine. We used to play jacks and hopscotch."

War made everything even more cruel. After Iruña, ​​Lodosa was the town in Nafarroa that suffered the most deaths after the military coup of 1936. Florencio Duque Campo (Lodosa, 1937) was in his mother's womb when his father was shot. "My mother didn't even know she was pregnant. Father was taken one night, to Zaragoza. It was October, and I was born in May. They threw him in a mass grave. They brought 37 boxes to the town, but we don't know if dad's bones are in any."

The cave where Duque used to live is one of the 4 or 5 that have been restored. He agrees with melancholy that the years he lived there, even if cruel, were also happy, because childhood always finds a place for joy: at night, millions of stars appeared - "not one more could fit" - but it was still compatible with hunger. "We had nothing, not even a crumb of bread. We ate grass, like sheep. Mallow, corn, carrots… If we saw an apple on the ground, all the children would run to get it…».

Duque's cave was bought by his parents, when they got married in 1928, and his father gradually expanded it. As soon as children were born, they dug the bedrooms needed. They all had the same structure, simple and humble. The cold room is a unique characteristic of the Lodosa caves. The sky can be seen through the hole made above the ground. In Duque's words, when walking through the field, all the children knew where the cooler was for each cave: "No one fell into the hole. We were always running."

In 1961, the city council issued a decree warning of the dangers of living in caves. About eighty people lived in them at the time. The municipality built cheap houses for them, and over the years many caves collapsed, or were closed. Historian Kristina Pozo has been doing guided tours and says with a smile that even if the lifestyle was difficult, those who lived in the caves remember those times with tenderness. "When they moved to the town center, many, many people went to see the cave every day, they loved their cave that much."

On Saturday [Sept 28 2024] the people of Lodosa will remember this lifestyle, as they have organized conferences to discover the heritage of the caves: the cave-houses will be open and the citizens will sit on reed chairs, in the doorways, and remember crafts, songs and games just like in the past.

[x]

[karlachismylife]

I Need a Hero

Yup, I wrote for the second most voted again. Why? Cuz I'm a danger to myself. Also because Gaz is pretty boy and I want to kiss him.

CW: gn!civilian!reader, probably not very realistic, toothrotting fluff for the pretty boy and the heroic prince Kyle.

(Title obviously from Bonnie Tyler's "Holding Out for a Hero")

You're beaming so bright, one could think it's you who's getting recognized and rewarded today - ironically, not for any of the terrifying world-saving missions, but for something small, an act of service Kyle didn't probably even notice in a chain of his usual bravery and heroism.

You noticed though. Every little thing, every feat and deed were carefully catalogued in your memory, even if he couldn't tell you anything besides "Was a rough one" or "Barely even did anything, angel". And today, finally, noticed others - Kyle, your Kyle, your sugarplum handsome pookie bear Kyle, was getting an award today. A nice, shiny reminder of all the good he's done to protect you and the country.

Of course he couldn't let you miss the ceremony. A few days prior you went shopping together and he bought you a nice outfit to match his, nothing too lavish, but definitely tasteful. Made you show it off before purchasing too, twirled you in front of the changing room and dropped a kiss on your knuckles.

To him, it's mostly a formality and a reason to show you off a little, but to you this whole day is about him. About that amazing, skilled man finally getting at least one percent of the praise he actually deserves. Sure, you know that his righteous Captain never takes his Gaz as granted and Kyle himself doesn't probably care for anyone else's recognition besides Price's and yours, but isn't it nice to have all these uniform-clad gentleman hold a ceremony in Sergeant Garrick's name?

"You look very good, handsome," you whisper quietly to him as you both stand in the narrow service corridor before you'll have to part your ways - Kyle has to come out on stage with several other officers getting awarded too. With loving hands, you adjust his collar and sigh dreamily as he catches your hands and kisses your fingertips. "Can I- oh," you have to scoot over a bit, a couple of stage workers shufflng through the narrow passage with some cables.

Kyle rubs your wrists gently, returning your attention back to him, and gives you a questioning nod, raising his eyebrows.

"You were saying, love?" You blink, once again (it'll never stop) struck by his beautiful features, and shake it off only when people start applauding out there.

The ceremony is about to begin.

"Just wanted to kiss you," you finally remember what it was that occupied your mind (as it always does, to be honest). Kyle's dark eyes sparkle with glee, but he still steals a look behind his shoulder, checking in case someone's out there looking for him.

"Here, right now?" he asks, turning back to you, and it's your turn to look puzzled. Chuckling, Kyle pecks your forehead quickly and lets go of your hands with visible whistfulness in his eyes. "Thought you'd like for me to give you a big smooch straight from stage, angel. Show everyone who's my biggest supporter."

And just like that, with a wink, he hurries away, leaving you to find your way back to your seat, cheeks warm with the imaginary picture of Kyle leaning from stage to recieve your congratulatory kiss. Can you really say no to that?

[sxfiamd]

Do you ever ever think about how Guy is the only one who TRULY understands Ramiris.

He knows what she went through and what she is going through (her reincarnation cycle). He defends her and has treated her as an equal despite being so strength obsessed. Guy does not respect those who are weak. He barely gives them the light of day. But ramiris, the weakest of the octagram in her current state, is his close friend. He threatened to kill his best friend (Leon) (who bro is literally attracted to) when he spoke poorly about Ramiris. Ramiris, who is largely shunned and underestimated, is perfectly understood by Guy. He looks past her cocky attitude. He knows who she once was. They stopped Milim together, after all. Ramiris sacrificed her prime for Milim and him. If Ramiris hadn't intervened. Hadn't taken in those corrupted magicules. Guy would have had to.

There's no way of knowing if that would have affected Guy in much capacity. But Guy was tired. He had fought Milim, a match, for seven days and nights. He might have lost. Or he could have won. There is really no way of knowing. Ramiris 'saved' them either way.

He knows that, despite Ramiris slowly degrading memory, she will always be herself and remember after each lifetime. He knows that she may not have the appearance, but she's still the same ramiris. People think Ramiris is stupid, but Guy knows she is one of the smartest. He let's her talk for hours on end. He let's her sit beside him. That's insane. Guy, the literal embodiment of pride, let's a tiny pixie sit beside him in the demon lord council.

The trust they hold with each other is also unbelievable. Guy trusted Ramiris with the decision to allow Rimuru to, basically, exist. She isn't scared of Guy either, like how most people are. Sure, she had said that "Guy is the only demon lord I won't fight" in a fearful-ish way. But that wasn't the fright that Guy often instils. She isn't scared of him. She isn't in fear of ticking him off.

Ramiris has no qualms going straight towards Guy during Walpurgis. She bickers with him. Guy wouldn't ever allow someone to talk like that to him. Except Ramiris.

They know each other. He knows her not as the Spirit Queen or as the annoying pixie, but as Ramiris. She knows him not as Demon Lord Guy Crimson but as Guy.

I really truly believe that they're eachothers actual best friends. Guy would fight Leon, his supposed best friend. He would not fight Ramiris. Rimuru often underestimates Ramiris and treats her as an aloof child. Guy doesn't. At least, not internally.

Guy has teased, of course. Rimuru does recognise Ramiris as a smart and useful person. But it's easily inferable that Rimuru still knows her as, well, annoyingly childish to most people.

Ramiris is the only person who can treat Guy the way she does. The only others that have been shown to be able to are Milim and MAYBE Leon. Leon has shoved Guy, a playful gesture for Guy, even in Leon's annoyance. But to bicker and contradict Guy, the way Ramiris does takes a lot. Their friendship isn't just that. But it's a connection. Ramiris and Guy are immortal and ancient, who both respected Veldanava, who both treated his daughter as one of them, who are two of three ancient DLs.

Ramiris was never a proper demon lord to begin with. She is unable to evolve into a True DL like rimuru or milim. She doesn't have the strength like Leon or Dagruel. She joined the council because of the respect Guy had for her. The gratitude he had for her.

Satan's best friend is a small pixie. The Spirit Queen's best friend is a demon.

[cecoeur]

Fun for fanfic and all. But in no reality, Max irl would ever think of that Martin post. It has been 8 hours, almost half the drivers on the grid posted about him. Pierre fucking gasly did it, of all people! And we are to think Max is tossing and turning in his sleep over Daniel? No, you know where he is? He is bloody streaming. Yeah, when his organisation is nailing the final nails to Daniel’s legacy (after they have done the same to Daniel’s career) all he had to offer was a comment on daniel’s post. Daniel was good for him as long as he picked up that one point that his shitty teammate couldn’t do. Max, like the rest of red bull, will think of Daniel as a footnote for their “bigger picture”.

Listen. This is not going to be an eloquent response but here goes. I get that you’re upset but this take…it ain’t it, bud.

The absolute last person I’m worried about having Daniel’s back in this or any situation is Max Verstappen. Max has been a genuine friend to Daniel from the beginning and equating his social media engagement or him living his life (?) to his level of love or respect for Daniel as a person and a driver is shortsighted and incredibly unfair.

Max was THE only person in the RedBull “family” over the weekend supporting Daniel during what was clearly a mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausting weekend. We heard and saw proof of that on multiple occasions.

If you don’t want to take my word for it, take Daniel’s. He said many times in multiple interviews after the race on Sunday (and before) what max has done for him and meant to him over the years.

Most of all I think it’s important to remember that just because you don’t see it, doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. The most meaningful interactions are not broadcast for the entire internet to see and consume because quiet frankly that’s not the fucking point.

[creatingblackcharacters]

This is the Scarecrow from the original Broadway production of The Wiz, as played by Hinton Battle and he is (one of) my favorite characters from this production!!!

I love this iteration of the Scarecrow for how optimistic and joyful he is. Unlike his film counterpart (which I still love because it was my first introduction to The Wiz and the fact that people with brown skin could be in Oz), the original Broadway Scarecrow was all about knowing he was going to make it, that he could do it! His song, "I Was Born on the Day Before Yesterday" is a sheer delight and very motivational. While, of course, he still wants a brain (as that is how the story goes), he does not think himself lesser because he lacks one! He realizes his situation and says NOTHING is going to get in his way!! Being a Scarecrow, of course he will still get scared, but he has his friends by his side, and they'll ease on down the road together until there is a brand new day in Oz! I love his song so much and I wish it was included in more productions (usually it is replaced by his movie song).

I would really like there to be more fan art of the original Broadway production (or any version) of The Wiz, because (the original Broadway costumes are incredible and would be so cool to be drawn) even though the production won the Best Musical Tony, has a film adaptation, a live television special, and a recent Broadway revival... it is still not the most known/celebrated as I believe it deserves to be in certain online theatre fandom spaces.

Also, a fun fact is that Hinton Battle actually joined the production as an Emerald citizen, and later became the Scarecrow during the pre-Broadway run of the show! And he was only 18 or 19! If you want to learn more about the actor behind the beloved character, check out this article (content warning for anti-Black violence in the beginning of the article).

Overall, the Scarecrow is my favorite character because he reminds me that I can be scared and brave, and to keep trying!! And he's just an overall wonderfully delightful character.

Here is another picture (featuring 3/4 of the original quartet, James Wigfall, as the Lion, was a replacement) that I think is just a very cute picture and I'd like you all to see it!

Potato!! I was so shocked you hadn't submitted any, especially because you love musical theatre!! I remember The Wiz (the movie) terrified me as a kid 🤣 but as I got older I grew far more respect for it. No Bad News is my favorite, but I'm a sucker for villain songs.

Hot Chocolate: Honestly, I've only seen the movie The Wiz. I should've known there was a musical 😅. Regardless, I LOVED The Wiz and wholly preferred it over the wizard of oz. The whole feel was comforting, exciting, and yes a little spooky by comparison. But God was it a delight 😊

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved on our archive

By - Jessica Wildfire

You’ve been lied to, over and over, about Covid.

Here’s a recent example:

A public health grifter in Australia named Nick Coatsworth recently urged schools to “save your money” because “any investment in air filtration is unproven and wastes precious resources” and that “Covid is no more harmful to kids than any respiratory virus.” You’ve heard this before, from dozens of highly credentialed doctors and public health officials, all of them with their own motives.

In reality…

Up to 25 percent of children who catch Covid go on to develop Long Covid, a euphemistic term that describes long-lasting damage to virtually every organ and system in their bodies. One recent study has estimated that 5.8 million children in the U.S. currently suffer from the condition.

There are dozens of studies.

In many cases, children who were healthy and happy go from performing well in school and having lots of friends to barely being able to solve simple math problems and withdrawing socially, even after a mild illness.

As a pediatrician at NYU has said, “This is a public health crisis for children,” adding that we’re going to see the “long-term impacts of experiencing long covid in childhood for decades to come.”

So when someone tells you that Covid is a mild illness for children, they’re lying. They’re doing harm to your children. You should get angry.

People are sicker than ever, and it’s getting worse.

When they say air purifiers don’t work…

They’re also lying.

Public health officials like Ashish Jha and Rochelle Walensky have advised their own children’s schools to spend millions of dollars installing clean air systems at the beginning of the pandemic. Rich parents joined them. Jha and Walenksy, like Mandy Cohen after them, have become some of the most notorious Covid minimizers on the planet, continually spreading misinformation and encouraging a culture of “personal risk assessment” that has driven a mass disabling event, with tens of millions of adults and children now suffering from chronic illness and disability, with slim hope for treatment in the near future. It’s not because we lack knowledge, but because our governments lack initiative.

Meanwhile, they spare no expense for their own families.

You deserve to know the truth.

In the U.S., our government originally allocated billions of dollars explicitly for the purpose of installing air cleaning systems in schools.

What happened to all that money?

First, many states explicitly refused to spend those funds. They redirected as much of it as possible. At the same time, CEOs pulled off what federal prosecutors call “the biggest fraud in a generation,” spending pandemic relief dollars on toys. Even NBC reported on the scandal, describing how the rich engaged in “the theft of hundreds of billions of dollars in taxpayer money” by “purchasing luxury automobiles” as well as “mansions, private jet flights and swanky vacations.” They didn’t just raid payroll protection. They also took $80 billion from other disaster relief funds. As one attorney said, “Nothing like this has ever happened before.” It’s theft on a massive scale, and it happened during both administrations.

The rich did all of this while the rest of us were dragging ourselves through the hardest years of our lives. And of course, you remember how the minute things started looking a little brighter, those who stole from us started complaining about how we didn’t want to work anymore, and we had too much cash. Some of these thieves were prosecuted, but many more got away with it.

It gets worse.

While the rich were spending pandemic funds on yachts and sports cars, our governments were spending money on police, prisons, and courts. According to a bombshell report by The Marshall Project, “billions of dollars flowed to the criminal justice system by the first quarter of 2022, from covering payroll to purchasing new equipment,” as well as “courts, jails, and prisons.” The equipment included tasers, rifles, shooting ranges, and armored vehicles. Governments were very clever in how they framed their purchases. In one case, a town in Alabama said new tasers with longer ranges would help curb the spread of Covid, since “officers will not have to get so close to the perpetrator.” Another city said armored vehicles make the public feel safer during challenging times.

By the middle of 2023, an investigation by Epic uncovered that at least 70 different municipalities were spending even more relief funds on police surveillance equipment, mobile forensic technologies, monitoring stations, and drones. They also bought software to spy on our social media.

Basically, while the rich were stealing from us, our governments went to absurd lengths to spend billions of dollars on anything other than clean air. By 2022, Biden was even giving governments his blessing to do so, using the unspent funds as proof that he supported law enforcement, a largely political move. As The New York Times reported, Biden was “making a forceful push” ahead of midterm elections “to show he is a defender of law enforcement.” As PBS explained, Biden urged governors to spend the rest of the money on law enforcement even as the treasury department released another round of funds.

So, that’s why our schools don’t have air purifiers.

We have an overwhelming amount of information that HEPA air purifiers work. They don’t stop transmission in cases where someone is sitting or standing right next to you without a mask, but they remove anywhere from 70 to 99 percent of the virus in the air, when they’re installed properly.

They significantly reduce your risk.

Indoor air experts can tell you a lot more about how to maximize the efficiency of air purifiers and ventilation systems. The end of this post offers resources toward that end. For now, we’re just going to talk about the simple point that they work. There’s absolutely no reason not to fund them, especially given that our children’s futures depend on it. Let’s get started.

Carl Van Keirsbilck has written an extensive review of studies on the effectiveness of air purifiers. Nina Notman provides an extensive overview on the benefits of clean air, including air purifiers and why certain types might be so reluctant to embrace them. So does Andrew Nikiforuk.

First, the CDC found that adding two HEPA air purifiers “reduced overall exposure to simulated exhaled aerosol particles by up to 65 percent without universal masking.” When you add masks, it goes up to 90 percent. They recommend HEPA purifiers as part of an overall clean air strategy.

A review of more than 50 different studies in Indoor Air found that “when HEPA filters were utilized, regardless of the type of ventilation, number of ACH [air changes per hour] or hospital area, minimal surface-born and no airborne SARS-CoV-2 RNA was detected.” In other words, HEPA filters can significantly reduce the amount of virus in the air, even when you might struggle to ventilate a space.

A study in Environmental Science: Processes & Impacts found that portable air cleaners used in classrooms “reduce the mean aerosol intake of all students by up to 66 percent.” A study in Physics of Fluids found that using multiple HEPA purifiers in a classroom led to a reduction in viral aerosols “between 70% and 90%.” A study reported in Buildings & Facilities Management found that using a HEPA purifier in combination with open windows led to a 73 percent drop in the risk of infection in classrooms. A study in Virology found that a HEPA filter could remove between 80 and 99 percent of viral aerosols from a room.

A study in Aerosol Science and Technology found that when researchers installed four air purifiers in a high school classroom, “the aerosol concentration” of Covid “was reduced by more than 90 percent within less than 30 min” and the reduction “was homogeneous throughout the room…”

A study in the Journal of Hospital Infection found that HEPA filters can “reduce the viral load in air” by as much as 99 percent and that “air purification systems can be used as an adjunctive infection control measure.” A brief article in Nature reported that an ICU in Cambridge used HEPA purifiers to largely remove Covid and other pathogens from their wards. That brief report turned into a full study published in Clinical Infectious Diseases, showing that not only do these filters remove Covid but also “significantly reduced levels of bacterial, fungal, and other viral bioaerosols on both the surge ward and the ICU.”

A study in Infection Control & Hospital Epidemiology found that by using two HEPA air purifiers, “99% of aerosols could be cleared within 5.5 minutes.”

A study in Building and Environment found that combining air purifiers with ventilation in a gym “can reduce aerosol particle concentrations” by up to 90 percent, “depending on aerosol size.” Another study in the same journal found that adding a portable air purifier to a hospital patient’s room “could prevent the migration of nearly 98% of surrogate aerosols…”

So when someone says investment in air filters or purifiers is “unproven” or “a waste of resources,” they’re not just wrong.

They’re lying.

There’s a major movement for clean indoor air.

Many of these researchers gathered last fall at the Clean Air Expo, a virtual conference hosted by the World Health Network, where experts and advocates shared their knowledge and strategies for getting the public on board with the message. I sat through every minute of it, and I learned a lot.

(You can watch the stream here.)

Some cities like Boston have already deployed sophisticated air-cleaning systems and air quality monitors in their public schools. They did it because parents and teachers teamed up with nonprofits to get the job done. Groups like Indoor Air Quality Advocates are building local, regional, and national networks to do the same. Advocates like Liesl McConchie are touring schools and speaking at school board meetings to spread the truth. HVAC experts like Joey Fox run blogs to educate the public on effective strategies.

Companies like Clean Air Kits are changing the game by offering quiet, affordable PC Fan filters and quick guides on how to use them.

Startups like the Air Support Project are taking the Corsi-Rosenthal box into commercial territory, to make them more accessible and to clear the red tape that often keeps them out of schools. Other companies like SmartAir are providing people with portable air purifiers when they need extra protection.

Consumer Reports explains how air purifiers work and tests the most popular brands. Groups like the Clean Air Crew have posted multiple tutorials on clean air, including buying guides. Confused parents and teachers can also visit Clean Air Stars to find affordable, reliable filters.

The elite will tell you that clean air is a waste of money while they spend millions of dollars on it themselves, all while big tech companies make special deals with energy utilities to restart nuclear reactors and coal plants to power their data centers. They’re not being very honest, are they?

Maybe it’s comforting to believe that air purifiers don’t work, that Covid doesn’t make anyone very sick anymore, and that we don’t have to figure any of this out. Deep down, you probably know it’s not true.

Public health agencies are staying silent on clean air, and sellout doctors are pushing misinformation, all because our governments gave our clean air money to the police and let the rich walk away with hundreds of billions of it, which they spent on sports cars and vacations. Instead of facing consequences, they would rather have you believe that air purifiers don’t work.

Your children deserve clean air.

So do you.

[themainreactor]

"Please, don't leave me... I'm sorry."

In which, Akaza finds you, a lady that brings the thought of his Koyuki back to him. He grows an unhealthy obsession with you and the memories of the beautiful woman haunting his mind. He can't lose her, not again, so he does everything in his power to make sure that he doesn't lose you. Whether it be killing someone or watching you all hours of the night, he'll do it.

How does one know when they've won?

Well the first question is, what did they win? What was the goal that they believe they've achieved to begin with? Then they have to cover all the bases, make sure that they do everything correctly in order to win.

Even the smallest of things that lead to one big accomplishment need to be done as best as they can so that it all fits together perfectly. Akaza knows, his one and only goal is to get stronger, it always was and always has been.

Well, he always thought it was.

Until he saw you.

He can't remember what he was doing that led him to you. He might have been killing demon slayers, maybe he was on an errand for Lord Muzan.

All he knows is that his gaze rested upon your scared expression that night.

He hadn't done anything, it's not like he was standing over a dead body with blood on him, he's not even sure that he moved in a way that should have scared you. Maybe it was his appearance, after all, he didn't look anything like a normal human.

Yet you didn't try and run away from him like most people did, you just fearfully stared at him. It was as if you had internally given up already and expected him to kill you. He would have let you go if you tried to escape, if you chose to run now he wouldn't hurt you.

It was only then that he noticed something else in your eyes besides some unknown crippling fear. Curiosity.

Dare he says that you had a show of admiration in your gaze, a fascination for what you didn't understand.

Koyuki....

... Koyuki? Who was that?

Akaza's brow furrowed, replaying the faintest memory of a woman in his mind, her beautiful yet hazy face was from a dream, or maybe a dream of a dream.

He looked upon you for a moment longer, indulging his mind for the female that didn't try to run. You reminded him so much of the woman from long, long ago. He can't remember who the woman is, but he can feel the love he held for her in the past tightening his chest.

He can't help but stare at you. He's not sure what makes him want to walk closer to you, possibly allow himself to touch you, hold your face, a face he thought he had long forgotten. He silently cursed himself but refused to move, he doesn't know why he wants to focus onto your eyes as if he was studying something.

He hated studying.

"Run." Akaza finally orders, noticing how you flinched before a show of uncertainty embraced your expression. But you didn't hesitate, you obliged and did what everyone else normally did.

Everyone ran from danger. It was in their human nature to do so, especially from a demon, their natural predators for about a thousand years.

But why hadn't you ran until he told you to? He didn't understand and yet it intrigued him to no end.

He needed to know you. He needed to see you, so he could see her again.

And so days went by, days turned to weeks and then turned into months of him just following you. To the point where he knew what you liked, the things you did, the people you talked to.

Akaza couldn't help but follow and learn everything there was to know about you, it confused him still because he didn't believe that this was his first intention. He had just been curious.

He wanted to know just what type of person you were, to have the audacity... No, the gal, to stay still that night, to look at him with a silent interest. To remind him of someone, the one and the only in his past life.

His Koyuki.

So he mindlessly followed you. Stalking was the right term he believes, though he would rather not call it that. Unlike Douma, he felt at least some level of shame when it came to things like this.

It made him feel uncomfortable that he'd somehow let himself become a creep. He would much rather call it a romantic walk with an unknowing person, though he supposed that was too long of a name.

Of course he could only do it in the dead of night, he couldn't follow you around in the sun and it makes him want to find the blue spider lily more earnestly. He had almost died on way too many occasions just watching you right before the sun rises, scaring him into hiding as to not get burned.

Thankfully, you seem to be out a lot at night, usually just doing your job. For a bit he almost felt bad about you working so hard and so late at night, but the few times that he'd see your accomplished smile forbade him to pity you even with the exhaustion that followed after.

When you are inside of your house at night instead, he'll find somewhere to perch himself on, whether it be on one of the neighbors houses or the outside of your windowsill, he'd watch you as you did what you pleased with your fleeting but simply precious life.

Akaza has almost convinced himself to enter your room while you were asleep more than once so that he could be closer, nearer to you, maybe hold you in his arms. Key word, almost convinced himself to enter your room more than once, he still thinks about it.

It makes him feel weak, you make him feel weak.

Each time the thought occurred, he quickly scolded himself, not wanting to scare you. He wouldn't want you to think that your life was so fickle that he could just enter your place of safety and comfort.

Though, It was fickle, he could just enter your place of safety if he really wanted to.

He later found out more about you, more of what you liked and what you didn't. He found out you were quite strict with yourself when it came to what you did around other people compared to when you were alone.

When you felt safe, you were outgoing, you were more outwardly passionate with your life when you were alone. You only felt safe because you didn't know he was watching, he didn't mind though.

He also found out rather quickly that you could paint and cook as that is what you did for the most part. When you were really bored, you dared to occupy yourself with things that men did like learning how to fight, which almost made him laugh.

He can remember the first time that he watched you, for the first week you painted someone on a canvas, it wasn't a big one, about the size of a book, one that didn't take much effort to paint on.

Yet you treated it with such care that it made him feel conflicted about why he liked watching you. Whoever it was took up so much of your time and rest that it made him jealous.

Your hands, gentle and careful when using your paintbrushes. You confidently creating whatever you deemed fit for the canvas while still choosing to keep it hidden instead of showing your hard work off to others.

That perplexed him.

Gyokko would have loved this passionate display of craftsmanship, of course Akaza thinks that with sarcasm, he'd never let the demon know you were alive to begin with. Or he'd have to kill him.

Strangely enough, it seemed like you tried your best to keep everything that you were proud of hidden, whether it be out of embarrassment or to keep your humble stature he wouldn't know.

What baffled Akaza even more in the week that he watched you paint the specific canvas when you had the time, was that during the end of it, he realized that the person you were painting was him.

Him?

You tried to paint him from memory.

He couldn't fathom it, why? A woman that just by chance laid eyes on him, chose to try and remember him rather than forget his existence. When he realized it was him, he waited until you had left the room to enter through the window and look at the painting more thoroughly.

It looked a lot like him, though of course his demon form. You painted him the same way you had probably seen him, late at night with few lights, shadows etched on his face and the environment around him.

It almost scared him just how accurate your painting was, after all, why would you try to remember a demon like him? But it warmed his heart. So after the painting, he had decided he would work up the courage to face you, so that you could see him again. Maybe paint him again.

He found himself watching you every spare minute he could. Your tranquility, the way your eyes lit up with emotion each time something interested you. The way you smiled at the smallest of sweet things. He couldn't comprehend what the feeling was.

He watched you to the point that he didn't even realize he was hungry, unintentionally starving himself, to which Muzan caught onto one meeting and questioned him about it.

Akaza wasn't sure how to answer at first, so he just claimed he lost track of time, which was the truth in a sense and Muzan let it go.

That scared him, that he was so infatuated with you that he actually had forgotten to eat. You kind of scared him. Which brings him back to a question.

How does one know when they've won?

Well... Normally you have to figure out what you've won first to determine whether or not you have actually won anything.

Akaza thought he was losing at the moment, that he couldn't get to the top and this was as far as he'd go. All he had to do was kill the last two demons in his way, Kokushibo and Doma and he'd be first, but he found that to be exceedingly difficult.

But now, he's not sure if this sick obsession with you is just another place he should win at or not. You would now be his new goal, he could care less about becoming stronger right now, not when he was so close to remembering her.

So he continued his nights of sightseeing, still working up the courage to let you know he was watching you before he saw him. A man that had bumped into you and then hung out around you just to claim he wanted to be like a mentor to you of sorts.

Akaza knew better though, the way the man looked at you said otherwise and as reserved as you were, your innocence unfortunately gave you a disadvantage in protecting yourself.

Akaza immediately felt anger towards the man, hating him with a passion. It wasn't because of the fact that he was flirting with you, oh no, it wasn't even because of how he placed his hand on the small of your back right near your ass and basically hinted at how much he'd love to have you at his mercy.

Not even that.

But because after Akaza took a little detour to investigate this man and he found out that the grown ass son of a bitch that wanted your virginity was already married.

He had a bunch of kids along with a caring wife, but he was a drunken bastard that didn't take care of them.

Even if he were to leave his wife and marry you, there was no guarantee that he would be faithful to you. He gave the man some time, he waited for him to do the right thing for the span of one week. But after that, Akaza cut off his life as quickly as he had entered into yours.

Akaza couldn't even force himself to eat the man because of how grossed out he was from how the man acted with his own family. So he just left the body for the authorities to find and they believed that he died in a bar fight.

It was better for the man's family anyway, the only one that mourned him was his wife, and she only cried for a little bit, the rest of the kids didn't seem to mind so much. It didn't matter, he killed men in worse ways than when he killed that one.

Akaza wasn't jealous, he genuinely would understand if you wanted to marry someone. He would understand if you wanted to be with a human, after all that was the normal thing to do and you didn't even know that he was watching you.

He saw how men looked at you so he knew that it wouldn't truly be hard for you to find someone to marry, but he was smart enough to identify which look was which. Which was was an actual look of a man admiring you for who you were and which one was a corrupted man, filled with a deep rooted lust.

But he also couldn't help but want you to stay alone, he wanted to keep you for himself. He didn't want to lose you.

But after a couple more weeks of watching you, killing men that wanted to harm you and forcing himself to leave the men that respected you alone (even though he also had a strong urge to kill them too), he finally worked up the courage to see you again.

Well, he worked up the courage to be near you, you didn't know he was there though so he's not sure that counted.

He had quietly entered your house through one of the windows he forced open, making sure not to break the glass or make any noise that would disturb you since you had just recently gotten home.

He let himself down on your wooden floor, taking a few steps out of the room that he realized was the kitchen before entering the living room. He slowly stepped, making sure not to wake up the dog.

He wasn't entirely sure what he was doing, what was he supposed to say? It had been three months since he first saw you, that night when he only spoke one word to you.

What in the world was he going to say? He didn't have a clue what you liked in men, he only knew that you thought most men in general looked pretty and he only got that from eavesdropping. It was funny how his stalking didn't seem to help with the information in that category yet.

His ears perked at the sound of humming and his chest tightened at the thought of seeing you. How would he know that you wouldn't try to run off? You might just tell the police that some demon or crazy looking monster had entered your house.

Of course he could deal with anyone that tried to harm him, heck, he could just kill all the people in this village and then take you for himself. But for some reason he didn't want to do that either. Would you even give him a chance to begin with? He was so nervous he felt like throwing up.

He silently followed the humming, entering a hallway before crouching down on the floor. The door to your room was closed and he didn't want to open it, maybe it would have been better if he came in through that window like he normally tried to do.

He couldn't give up now, this was the farthest he had gotten himself near you.

He listened to your humming, allowing your voice to calm him down. Your voice was beautiful to him, one that was unique to you and he's still not sure why you remind him of his Koyuki. All he knows is that when he sees you, he feels closer to her.

He barely opened the door, quickly moving away and ducking when you stopped humming to look at your door.

Shoot.

You eyed it for a moment before chalking up the door movement as wind, after all you didn't have the best or strongest doors.

You went back to humming, hanging up your kimono before blowing out one of the lamp lights.

It was darker, it was quiet, you suddenly felt something moving.

Another gush of wind appeared and in an instant the other lamp was out. You would have freaked out if you knew what it was.

Who were you kidding? You were freaking out right now.

Quickly you peaked around the corner, forcing yourself to look in the hallway before looking through your room for the source of the wind.

You weren't really scared but you felt like you were going crazy. You almost thought you saw a silhouette of someone in the shadows.

Safe to say, you didn't sleep that night.

Now, did Akaza run away? Yes, yes he did. But at least he made some progress. Gosh, he just knew that Kokushibo would look down on him for cowering in fear from a mere WOMAN.

He couldn't help it though.

Make no mistake, he didn't run out of fear, he ran because of you and he admitted that to himself no matter how embarrassing it was to do so.

He continued to stare at you from a distance, peaking from one of your neighbors roofs while silently hyperventilating. He could see the way you were sweating, how you looked around while holding a pillow, as if smacking an intruder with something that soft would protect you.

He almost did it, he almost touched your hand but he couldn't get himself to do it. What would he even say after that? Most people don't touch each other in their first interaction.

He waited another week, testing himself each time while entering your house whether you were at work or not. Slowly but surely he was getting himself closer to you, you never did see him even though half the time he would be right behind you but he didn't mind.

Finally one day he couldn't handle it anymore, it had been four months since he first saw you and he desperately wanted to hold you in his own arms, protect you, help you in any way he could.

He had thought swirling around in his mind, thought he knew he only had because he was a demon. He wanted you to be his, his and his alone.

No, you were his. You'd be his until the day you died and he wanted you to only belong to him. Whether you knew it or not.

Heck, he never wanted you to die either, he'd bring you into the demon world soon just to make you one and stay with him.

He wanted you to know you were his.

But for some reason he also wanted you to want him. It wouldn't be worth it, for him to take you and make you his own if you didn't want it. He would hate that, if you stayed with him only out of fear.

He felt like he had asthma, he couldn't breathe properly, he might pass out. This was almost similar to whenever he forced himself to face Muzan. You were nowhere near as strong as Muzan, you were just a beautiful human and nothing more.

So why was he so worried?

He harshly shook the thought away, hyping himself to enter your room. You were already asleep because he couldn't bear the thought of talking to you just yet.

He wasn't surprised that you had fallen asleep so early either, he had come as soon as the sun went down and you apparently stayed working almost three hours after you were supposed to leave.

With your dedication, Akaza's sure you'd be a strong demon if someday you allowed him to turn you into one. He would like to force you to become a demon, but he won't do it against your will.

He opened the window like he always did, slowly entering in as to not make the floorboards creek before closing the window behind him. As soon as he entered, he was graced with your sleeping presence, your quiet snoring and tired expression, you were even drooling a bit and it made him want to smile.

But he didn't, he was just focused on not waking you up. He stood there for quite some time.

What was he supposed to do now anyway?

Why did he always ask that same question when he came in here?

He could just talk to you while you were sleeping, he always did that, maybe give you a kiss on the forehead for once, after all, you slept pretty hard.

He could make you his.

Akaza punched his nose immediately when the thought occurred, so hard that he could hear the recoil of his neck in his head. His body healed the wound almost instantly but he wasn't worried about that in the slightest.

"I know you never hear me... I suppose it doesn't matter anyway." He starts, talking to your sleeping form as he chooses to sit on the floor.

"It's Akaza... Y'know, you're interesting..."

"..."

The silence was annoyingly unbearable and yet, it made him feel more comfortable about being this close to you.

Akaza sighed, leaning his forehead against the mattress as he tried to continue talking. He couldn't think of anything, he really wanted to find a way to talk to you someday when you were actually awake.

"You kind of make me embarrassed, but one day, I want to talk to you normally." He continued, lifting his head up again to look at you. "I like your painting of me too... I tell you that all the time though don't I?"

He chuckled a little, watching as you just stayed still.

Until you moved.

Crap.

Akaza jumped up, about ready to run out the window from your movement because why wouldn't he? He was nowhere near ready to let you actually see him.

Then he realized you were just stretching so he didn't need to run.

Aw, that was cute. You looked like those dumb little orange cats that he sees in peoples windowsills that's always stretching like they've actually worked at all.

"Don't scare me like that." Akaza grumbled as if you'd reply. Though he could imagine, if he was a human that you might giggle at him.

If he was a human, you'd treat him normally, he wouldn't have to sneak anywhere just to see you either.

Life was confusing wasn't it?

He's been alive for a long time, but you've only been alive for a while. Did that mean that his infatuation with you was wrong? It didn't feel wrong.

It felt so right.

You were his Koyuki, you had to be. Sure, you were you but you reminded him so much of her that it hurt him.

He could still barely remember her.

All he knows is that he had her, and then he lost her.

No, not again. He won't lose her again. He won't lose you

Akaza looked down at you again, slowly moving to sit on the bed at the thought.

You weren't his Koyuki, that much was certain.

But you were just so damn... Perfect. It didn't matter to him that you might never love him, you were his and he didn't care.

He couldn't lose you again.

"Sorry." He finally spoke, his voice sounding like a whisper when he turned back to your sleeping figure. Something got a hold of him and without thinking, he moved closer to hug you.

By the grace of God, you haven't woken up yet, but he isn't sure why he's so attached to you when you clearly aren't the same person as the woman in his past.

"I'm sorry I didn't protect you." He murmured, apologizing really to her and not you. He was protecting you, that's why he had been watching you so diligently. He isn't even sure why he's saying all this, it's not like he could remember everything from his past.

And yet, the words that kept escaping his mouth just came naturally. A silent plea to bring something back that he never truly was able to have.

It hurt so damn bad and yet her couldn't stop smiling. He just held onto you as gently as one could whilst trying to show some semblance of a human emotion. Was it relief that he found you, someone that was somewhat close to Koyuki? Probably not.

Grief. He doesn't normally feel grief, he can sympathize, but he hasn't felt guilty about something in his past. He couldn't even remember anything about his past before until he saw you.

"I'm sorry, don't leave me... I'm so sorry." He finally cried, one drop and then another spilled from his eyes and rolled down his cheek. He quickly wiped them away before they dropped on you or the mattress but he couldn't stop it.

He let go and started moving away from you, exiting the house entirely through the window. He'd much rather not cry in front of you, even if you were sleeping.

You are the most beautiful woman he's ever had the honor of being near. He doesn't understand why but he's seen you, he knows how kind and selfless you are.

He knows how you are, he knows his Koyuki.

You were his too, you had to be. He needed you to be, so he would do everything in his power to protect you, even if you never did see him again.

He'd be your secret protector, then maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to atone for the terrible things he's done in his life.

Did he even deserve that? He doesn't know, all he knows is that he'll be happy with whatever you allow him to be.

If you saw him someday and chose to love him, he'd be pleased. If not, then he'd just make sure you were safe. If he could never work up the courage, he'd still hum the same tune you always hummed alongside you outside the window.

So has he won yet?

That wasn't really a question was it? There wasn't a point in winning anyway, he didn't have an end goal with you in all of this either. He didn't cover all the bases or make sure everything was in his favor.

They say that the smallest of things that lead to one big accomplishment need to be done as best as they can. So that it all fits together perfectly.

He knows that, his one and only goal is to get stronger, it always had and always would have been. If he didn't see you and you didn't see him that night.

So that answer to that question was that he's not sure and quite frankly, doesn't care. After all, he'd probably die from a demon slayer someday.

So maybe winning didn't matter.

Maybe he didn't have to win or be the strongest.

But who knows? He sure doesn't. This odd and probably unhealthy love he had for you was difficult to understand sometimes.

[thatgirlwithasquid]

letters that i can never send

words: 25,571

Chrissy/Tina | Teen and Up Audiences | POV Tina | Ghost Chrissy Cunningham | Letters | Right Person Wrong Time | Unhappy Ending

beyond excited to get to share my fic for @sapphicstevents' stranger things sapphic mini bang!! writing it definitely fought me for a while but i'm really proud of this fic.

so here's the first chapter and a cover i threw together to post it with! the whole fic is up on ao3 here, and @hullomoon has been amazing and created a podfic of the work for anyone interested in listening <3

---

Chapter 1 : A Pack Of Green Scrunchies

words: 5,739

June 20th, 1986

Dear Chrissy,

I wish I had known you before everything went mad. 

I think I told you that before, but I mean it now more than I meant it then. It feels so crazy to think that we went through school walking past each other in the halls and not even glancing in each other’s direction. I know that I did the same thing to other kids but it still feels impossible.

My mom took me out to the mall the other day—there’s a mall in this town, not like the destroyed one in Hawkins. It’s full of people and stores and it's loud. I didn’t like it. I always used to find it annoying how quiet Hawkins was sometimes, but I hate how loud it is here. There’s too many people talking and smiling and I can’t see them without thinking about how oblivious I was before I met you.

They were selling scrunchies in one of the stores. My mom was looking for a new purse but I stopped to look at them instead. I bought a pack of green ones because they made me think of you. I wonder if that’s what you would smell like; cotton fabric and lingering perfume from my wrist.

I miss you. 

Tina.

—

The lights in the hospital waiting room hum with an electric static. Even under all the anxious chatter and background noise of the hospital, it’s the only thing Tina can hear. Well, that and the fading ringing in her ears.

Her hands clench and unclench around the hem of her shirt as she watches the minutes tick by. Beside her, her dad’s leg bounces up and down. She’s not sure if he’s aware of her watching him. The man stares ahead down the crowded hall through the chaos as if her mother will suddenly appear there, good as new.

Tina doesn’t say anything, just reaches out and entwines their fingers, letting out a sigh of relief as her father squeezes her hand back. She needs his strength to lean on. It doesn’t matter that, rationally, Tina knows her mother’s injuries from the earthquake were far from the most severe that came through those hospital doors today.

She’s never been more scared than she was when her dad came stumbling out of the rubble, shirt bloodied and with her mom’s arm over his shoulder to support her weight. Tina had been so frantic that she can’t even remember if her mother had been conscious at that point. She was out cold during the drive to the hospital, though; the sounds of ambulances and firetrucks and police cars responding to the destruction weren’t even enough to break her from her state. Her father had somehow remained stoic then, too.

Thankfully, it’s not too much longer before a nurse lets them visit her mom. After hours of waiting, they’re more than ready to see how she’s doing. 

With all the trouble caused during the disaster, her mom is crammed into a room with other people, separated only by a flimsy curtain. Around them, the relieved reconciliation of other patients and their families fade into the background as Tina reaches her mother’s side and grasps at her hand where it lays atop her blankets. 

IVs poke into her skin and wires trail off to monitors she doesn’t even begin to want to look at. Instead, Tina focuses her gaze on her mom’s weary face. She looks tired, eyes rimmed with dark circles that are only accentuated by the pale colouring of her skin. But she seems okay, all things considered, and Tina sighs out in a relieved whoosh of breath.

The nurse goes over her mom’s condition with her dad, but Tina hardly takes in a word—the moment the nurse confirms that her mom will be okay, she tunes her out entirely. Instead, Tina drinks in the sight of her mom, brushing a careful thumb over her scraped knuckles and almost tearing up when her mom gives her a small smile in return.

Eventually, the nurse hurries off again and Tina’s dad slumps into a chair beside the bed. Tina barely glances his way, too scared to look away from her mom, convinced that if she so much as takes her eyes off her, something terrible will happen again.

“Tina,” her mom sighs. “I’m okay. You don’t need to look so worried.”

Tina shakes her head.

“I was so scared,” she manages, voice cracking under the tears she spent so long suppressing. They finally rush down her face in a flood of emotion, tasting salty where they converge in the corners of her mouth.

“Oh, baby,” her mom says, voice softening. “It’s going to be okay now, okay? Why don’t you go and get some rest, you look exhausted.”

Tina can’t help but laugh at that, an ironic, choking thing. “I look exhausted?”

“Well,” her mom smiles before shifting slightly and doing her best to smother a wince. “I’m already laying down and getting rest. I’m more worried about you.”

Guilt stabs Tina’s heart like a blade. Her mom’s the one in a hospital bed, with doctors and nurses hovering around outside to help if needed, and yet Tina’s the one acting like the world’s weighing down on her shoulders. It’s shameful in its own way. 

Tina always thought she was strong enough to be her parents’ equal. She did well enough in school and had plenty of friends; her parents saw how grown up she was and even helped her plan her Halloween parties; her mom told her everything—every annoying thing someone at work said, every snippy little complaint about her dad forgetting to hang the washing out…

And here she is now. Comforting Tina like she’s a little kid in need of a nap and not a seventeen-year-old who should be better than this. So, she shakes her head, plastering on a smile even as her eyes sting with another wave of tears and, admittedly, exhaustion.

Before she can put up much protest, her dad pipes up to agree with her mom. It doesn’t leave enough room for anything more than Tina going along with what they want. Her dad almost follows before he hesitates, catching her mom’s eye. She nods back at him.

“Why don’t you see about finding some dinner for us two? I won’t be far behind you, I just need to have a talk with your mom.”

What is Tina supposed to do about that other than leave? She’s obligated to listen to her parents, even if she wants to stay. Besides, she’s sure she’ll be visiting her mom as often as she can until she’s discharged. 

So, it’s fine. All this is fine.

When she gets to the door, Tina turns and looks back at her parents one last time. With all the other people talking in the room, she can’t make out what her parents are discussing. What she can make out is the way her father’s face pinches into a concerned frown. 

Whatever it is they wanted to talk over without her must be serious. Resigned, Tina sets off in search of the cafeteria. It feels strange, pushing on through crowds of the distraught and the injured. Against her better judgement, her eyes catch and linger on the horror around her. 

Nothing will ever be the same after this, not in Hawkins at least. Too much bad has happened, too much to even let herself think about.

By the time her dad finds her in the cafeteria that evening, the dinner that Tina bought them has long since gone cold.

—

School doesn’t reopen until a week later—a week filled with funerals and clean up and searching for anyone still buried under the rubble. During that time, Tina recovers what she can from her trashed house to cram into some other girl’s bedroom. She should probably count her lucky stars that its usual inhabitant left for college a year ago, otherwise she would be knocking elbows in this little space—seemingly so much smaller than her own room was.

She longs for home: for her corkboard of polaroids of herself and her friends, for each marker line creeping up her door frame dedicated to a year of her life, for her fuzzy blue blanket, and for so many more little comforts that she had taken for granted. Staying here, in someone else’s bedroom while her dad stays on the pull-out downstairs, makes her feel strangely like a jigsaw piece jammed into the wrong puzzle.

There’s nothing to be done about that, with the roof of her house half-collapsed it’s not like they have much choice other than this. She is grateful that her dad’s work friend—Mr. Daniels—took them in, but that doesn’t stop her longing for what she’s lost.

Returning to class brings back none of the normality she longs for, either. Sure, the cracks in the road outside have been hastily paved over for the most part and the classrooms have been deemed safe to return to despite whatever state the earthquake had left them in, but everything has so clearly shifted…

All Tina sees, everywhere she looks, are the empty seats. The ones from kids whose families fled the town are one thing, one type of grief for the friends she’s not sure she’ll ever see again. The rest are something else entirely, vacant seats that will never be filled; those seats offer no question to their absence in Tina’s life.

So far, she has been to eight funerals. Three of them were some of her best friends. She didn’t sleep the nights after any of those. After the last one, she hasn’t been able to bring herself to attend any more; it turns out that there’s only so many bodies you can handle saying goodbye to within such a short period of time.

Mr. Clarke clears his throat, trying to recapture the forlorn attention of the room. Even he can’t seem to muster a genuine smile so Tina doesn’t know how he expects the students to care about any of this. Honestly, she’s surprised the school has even bothered swapping teachers to fill in for staff absences with how little chance they have at passing their exams after all this. If their grief wasn’t enough, having a teacher so clearly unprepared to deal with older kids isn’t going to help them learn at all.

She remembers Mr. Clarke from middle school and almost, very briefly, feels bad for thinking poorly of him. He’d been a nice enough teacher. She’s sure he’s still nice enough, but she just doesn’t have it in her to care about stuff like that anymore. Not after everything. She’s not sure how she fits into this new, broken version of Hawkins; how the hell should she be able to care about how everyone else fits in?

Slowly, the eyes of the class do raise to the man where he stands, squirming at the front of the room, backdropped by the chalkboard covered in scrawled science Tina hasn’t understood a word of. She can’t help but think that their usual teacher would have explained it in a way that made so much more sense to her.

She doesn’t know if that teacher is one of the leavers or worse.

Everyone sits quietly as Mr. Clarke stumbles his way through telling them about the commemorative assembly that is going to be held in the gym. Both schools will be coming together in a few days time to remember their lost friends, or at least that’s the plan.

Silence hangs in the air for another excruciating moment. Then the whispering finally begins. Names get thrown around, ones Tina is sure must belong to the dead.

“Jason,” someone whispers.

“Carol,” says another.

“Nicole—”

The whispering gets cut off abruptly by the scraping of a chair as it’s shoved out from under its desk. Some kid launches himself to his feet and stalks out of the room, eyes red-rimmed. Behind him, the classroom door slams shut on a spluttering Mr. Clarke.

Whispers start up again in the wake of his sudden departure. This time, Tina tunes them out. Instead, she sets her thoughts adrift, steering away from anything too dour to think on. She doesn’t want to deal with this today. They’ve only been back at school for a day. 

She isn’t ready for this yet. It doesn’t feel like there has been nearly enough time for any of them to come to terms with this. How the hell are they going to get through these last two months of school and—

“Tina!”

Blinking back to her senses, Tina looks up, across the lunch table and to whoever called her name. It’s Vicki, looking at her with wide, concerned eyes. She probably should be concerned, Tina can only vaguely recall walking to the cafeteria, she’d been so trapped in her own mind.

“Sorry, what did you say?” she asks.

It’s just the two of them, perched on the edge of a sparsely populated table. Their group used to be a lot bigger.

“I—” Vicki starts, hesitates, and then leverages a painfully forced smile onto her face. “I asked if you figured out what you wanted to do at college yet.”

She wants to wince, to cringe away from the inane topic. It makes her feel sick to pretend that everything is normal. People died, other people got hurt, the town is a mess. Why would they be worrying about stuff like this as if it means anything at all anymore?

“I don’t know. With my mom in the hospital everything’s changed. I haven’t had time to think about it.”

Vicki squirms uncomfortably at her confrontational tone, looking chastised. It makes her deflate a little, feeling suddenly very cruel. Just because Tina doesn’t know how to play at being normal, doesn’t mean she has to be such an ass to her friend over it. She still cares about her and being a bitch is only going to drive a wedge between them. It’s not like she has many friends left after everything, either.

Her hands tremble in her lap and she shakes them out as if that might banish some of her simmering nerves. It doesn’t. With a tense kind of control, Tina pushes up to her feet. Vicki’s eyes swivel up to her, surprised by the abrupt shift.

“Bathroom,” Tina chokes out, trying to tamper down the frustration in her voice.

“Tina…” Vicki starts but Tina is already walking away.

The lighting in the bathroom is dingy and off-putting, and yet the electric buzzing of those fluorescents still puts her in mind of sterile hospital walls. Her mom’s been making a great recovery, she reminds herself. She’ll be home before she knows it. Maybe then everything will start going back to normal.

The porcelain basin of the sink stares, glaringly white up at her as she leans over, splashing her face with metallic-tasting water from the old taps. Her ragged breaths send speckles of water back into it as it drips in trails down her face. She’s probably smudged her makeup now, and it didn’t even help at all.

With a choked sob, Tina turns her face upwards, meeting the paled expression of her reflection; eyes wide, droplets of water clinging to mascara-tinted lashes. But that’s not all she sees.

A sick feeling of horror settles deep in her stomach as she notices something from the corner of her eye—something hovering behind her, in the corner of the bathroom. The room had been empty when she came in. Heart hammering, startled by being snuck up on, Tina whirls around to see—

Nothing.

Just an empty, dingy, school bathroom. The green doors of toilet stalls stare back at her impassively as she clutches a hand to her chest, willing her racing pulse to settle.

It was nothing. It was her mind playing tricks on her. It had to be nothing. Because if not, how could she explain that fleeting glimpse of the ghost of Chrissy Cunningham?

—

Tina’s pen taps restlessly against the Daniels’ kitchen table, the only sound in the eerily silent house.

Sharing a living space with another family comes with all the chaos one would expect, with each of their routines clashing loudly and incompatibly as they stumble around each other each morning and night. And yet the quiet moments like this are almost worse, when everyone is out working or visiting the hospital or whatever else it is these people do. Aside from Tina, it’s empty. Abandoned, almost, like the rest of this god-forsaken ghost town.

She scratches a frustrated line through her pitiful homework attempt and pushes it away across the table, out of sight and out of mind as she stares distractedly out the window. The chair she sits on creaks as she leans to the side, trying to look out into the street. Usually at this time of the evening, kids would be running around, excited and playing in the warm spring air. Usually parents would be seen and heard, trying to cajole their kids inside for whatever they had cooked up or ordered in for dinner.

Tonight, there is nothing but a creeping sunset that paints the sky a dull pink, like drops of blood diluted in a lake of blue. There is no one finding time to play, and no one enjoying a peaceful evening, and Tina’s parents aren’t here. It’s just her, alone with her anxious mind.

She should be at the hospital, trying her best to be there for her dad and checking in on her mom. But going there again and again felt like poisoning herself, losing herself in worry that would set her heart pounding and mind spiralling. It doesn’t matter to her scared brain that she knows her mom is doing much better, she still can’t help but feel sick with worry.

And she’s so tired. It makes visiting her mom so difficult because her mom gives her this pitiful, concerned look whenever she sees her like this. Tina just can’t take that; being a burden to her parents instead of a place of support. They have nothing to be worried about, really. It— She’s just tired…

She can’t sleep with worrying about if something happened to her mom in the night, or if another earthquake might come to completely level this damn town. And what’s more, her mind hasn’t been able to stray far from the thought of what she saw—or what she thinks she saw—in that damn bathroom. Any time her mind has a chance to wander, her thoughts get inevitably dragged back to that sight.

She had only glimpsed her for a fleeting moment but that had been enough. Enough to see the shape of blood splatters on her cheer uniform and the inhuman pallor of her skin… Now, every sound—every creaking shift of this unfamiliar house, every car driving by, every sudden noise—leaves her jumping, expecting to see something horrific around her as if she’s being tormented by some twisted apparition. She hates it.

She should know better than this, she doesn’t even believe in ghosts! Whatever she saw must just be a trick of the mind. And yet.

With a frustrated groan, Tina pushes her chair out from the table and stands. Sitting around like this is doing her no good, either. It’s like she can’t escape any of this worry for even a second. Or, at least, she can’t when crammed into too-small rooms that have no space for the shape of her grief.

Her loaned keys chime against each other as she snatches them from the countertop. She just needs to get out of the house, walk around and clear her head. Maybe then all this anxiety can start to dissipate and the memory of that hallucination will fade.

Locking the door behind her, Tina wanders off in whatever direction her feet decide to take her. 

The air is clear outside and she hopes that might ease some of the tension that she has been holding, coiled and aching, within her. It’s hard to remember that she doesn’t need to be prepared for something awful to happen, because chances are nothing will.

She wishes she believed that.

Every time she blinks back to awareness, she finds herself on a different stretch of road that she can’t recall making the conscious choice to head to. This walk clearly isn’t doing anything for her. Clear her mind? What a ridiculous idea. How the hell could a place as fucked up as Hawkins bring her any relief, no matter where she might go or what she might do? It’s like the only thing her body knows how to do here anymore is to run on autopilot—to keep her body moving as her thoughts keep on spiralling.

She stills, taking a frustrated breath and at least trying to keep track of where she’s ended up. Her eyes scan her surroundings, taking note of how the efforts to fix up the town haven't reached this far yet, great deep cracks still clear and precariously crisscrossing the roads, splitting the asphalt open to reveal the exposed bowels of the earth.

It’s not something she’s that surprised by. Ahead of her, the road turns off into the trailer park. It makes sense that no one has prioritised fixing up things around here. With the abandoned yellow streamers of police tape, catching and glinting in the golden hour, it’s only too easy to remember what happened here all too recently.

Tina cringes at the sight of them, dancing in the gentle breeze like they don’t know what they mean. Like they don’t know a girl was massacred inside that place. Still, she can’t quite tear her eyes away. For a long, breathless moment, she just stares, caught in the bone-deep wrongness of that place. And then, like ice slithering down her spine, a stomach-churning feeling of horror settles upon her. It takes a hold in her chest before she even realises the cause of it.

Just barely visible from this far away, lingering in the window of the Munson’s trailer, is the shape of a person, standing stock-still. The longer she stares, breaths shallow and fast under the weight of that settling dread, the more the distant shape seems to resemble a girl, its silhouette becoming more convincingly feminine as that agonising second draws out longer and longer, running on forever as her gaze refuses to budge from the sight.

It’s like time has stopped. 

Tina doesn’t realise she’s stepping away until her feet scuff against the uneven ground and she nearly loses her balance. That, at least, is enough to break her out of her trance even if the terror sinking into her stomach refuses to dissipate; she rips her gaze away from the trailer as if burned. It feels like the shape of that figure is scorched into her retina now.

Unwilling to look back at that window, Tina runs.

—

Sitting through the commemorative assembly in the school’s gymnasium is like pulling teeth. Every word jars her, striking through with pained awareness of how overcrowded the room is playing host to two schools and yet not nearly as crowded as it should be.

She feels like an exposed nerve, too vulnerable for this. Her eyes burn with exhaustion and the threat of tears.

At some point she stops listening entirely, too mentally overwhelmed as she tries not to think about anything at all if it will get the ringing in her ears to stop. As she looks down at her hands, the shadows cast by the lines of her palms form a dark echo of the blood and grime she remembers from that day. She had to trim her nails as short as she could to get rid of the last traces of it.

When they’re finally dismissed, the end of the speeches coinciding with the end of the school day, Tina lingers behind at a shout of her name.

Waving over at her from through the dispersing crowd is Vicki. There are strained creases around the corners of her eyes as she weaves her way to meet Tina but she valiantly keeps a smile in place, something more than Tina can say for herself.

“You want to tag along with me? I’m heading to meet Samantha, she snuck some of her parents' booze in all the confusion so we’re going to meet up and let off some steam.”

“Samantha Stone?” Tina clarifies. “Since when do you hang around with Samantha?”

Vicki scoffs. “Since almost everyone else is gone.”

Tina presses her lips together to keep the sudden roll of nausea at that blasé statement at bay. Vicki seems to pick up on it, her expression dimming marginally with her concern, but she chooses not to question it. Instead, she strides on, head held high.

“Anyway, we all have people’s memories to drink to. I cannot deal with the aftermath of that stupid assembly while sober. So, you coming or what?”

Tina takes a steadying breath and follows. After all, it’s not like she’s got any better ideas. 

The crowd that gathers at the edge of the school’s field is a mishmash of different people, most of whom Tina has only ever seen around each other in the classroom or at her own parties. They seem to clump together uncertainly, stilted conversations offered between each other about inane topics that Tina doesn’t have the energy to entertain.

Regardless, she loiters around with the group, accepting whatever drinks get thrust into her hand and taking great gulps to avoid joining any conversations. Listening is more than enough, if you can even class what she’s doing as listening. 

Everyone else, at least, seems on the same page about getting shit-faced. As the hours creep by, shoulders finally start to slump and the group gets rowdier the drunker they get. Bottles are uncapped with grandiose claims of them being in honour of someone who couldn’t be there with them.

Silently, Tina raises her own drink, the faces of her friends flashing in her minds’ eye. 

At some point, Vicki leaves her place at Tina’s side. She looks up to see her, arms interlocked, with Samantha and laughing the way she only does when she’s really tipsy. For a second, Tina considers going over to talk to them, but when she gets up from her spot on the bench her body feels clumsy and uncoordinated. It’s probably better that she stays here, leaning against the seat for support.

There’s another kid who could probably benefit from the same. He’s pale aside from a splotchy flush to his cheeks as he stumbles ungainly out from the tree line.

“Didn’t get lost taking a piss then?” his friend taunts as he wobbles his way back over to their side.

“I think I just saw a ghost,” he says in a daze.

Everyone laughs at that. Tina tries not to think at all.

The sun is creeping towards the horizon and Tina is far too many drinks in when the nausea finally hits her. It feels like a physical thing, crawling its way up her throat.

“Shit,” she gasps, floundering up onto her feet at last and heading blindly into the trees. At least there she might have just a smidge more privacy in her shame.

Her sneakers shuffle over uneven earth, hesitant at first until the need to puke becomes too much and she hurries further along, with all the uncoordinated grace she can muster. Knees meet the ground and an arm braces against a tree as she sucks in deep breaths. They slowly soothe the sickness away. In the end, she’s not sure if it’s better or worse that she didn’t actually vomit.

Head still hazy, she looks up and widens her awareness back to her surroundings.

“You have got to be kidding me,” she says, clambering back to her feet, as she spots them.

It’s a girl. It’s too far away to be sure but she looks to be dressed in a cheer uniform, at least from what Tina can see. The girl is curled around herself, sitting with her back against a tree and her head in her hands.

This could be it. This could be that same hallucination. 

Tina should just go—whether or not this is real, she just needs to leave it alone. If this is just some other student from their drunken group, then her crying is none of Tina’s business. Hell, she’s had to step away for private moments herself and it’s not the sort of thing you want to be walked in on. And if this is Chrissy, then… Well, then that doesn't bode well to think about.

Leaves and twigs crunch underfoot, stealing any stealth she might have managed, as Tina approaches. Not like it matters, the girl doesn’t react at all, as if she can’t even hear her.

The closer she gets the less she can deny it. That strawberry-blonde hair, held back from her face by a green scrunchie; that small stature; the familiar cheer uniform, speckled with somehow still-red blood… She may not have known Chrissy personally, but Tina had certainly seen her around enough to be able to recognise her.

She slows to a stop, looking down at the figure of her. From here she can see that her head isn’t actually in her hands. She’s covering her ears, muttering something under her breath that Tina can’t quite make out without getting closer.

Tina’s mouth opens to speak but she finds it suddenly dry, her throat barren. She clears her throat, the sound perversely loud in the atmosphere around her.

“Chrissy?” she manages finally, voice little more than a whisper.

Chrissy’s head snaps up to look at her, eyes wide and frantic. Her whole body tenses, posture coiling and shifting as if she’s preparing to bolt, and for a moment Tina feels that same need to flee echoed in herself. Neither of them do.

Tearful, blue eyes take in Tina’s face before some of the fight seems to drain from her, slumping infinitesimally against the tree behind her. Tina, though, doesn’t relax and her alcohol slowed mind fumbles to come to grips with the sight before her.

Chrissy, where she sits in the leaves and dirt and forest debris, is so pale. Every so often, the very vision of her seems to flicker in Tina’s sight, as if the girl herself were not fully corporeal… trapped between this world and the next.

“Are… Are you real?” Chrissy breathes, voice small and broken.

The irony of that startles a laugh from Tina before she can help it. 

Shouldn’t she be the one asking that? Chrissy is the dead girl out of the two of them. If either of them should be mistrusting their minds right now, it should be Tina. Because if ghosts aren’t real, as Tina had always believed so strongly, then how can Tina be facing this right now?

“Am I real?” she scoffs, voice bordering on hysterical. “You’re the dead girl here.”

“What?” Chrissy asks in that same crushed tone.

“You’re dead,” Tina tells her, because what else is there to say?

Somehow, Chrissy seems to pale further, as if blood was rushing away from her non-existent face.

“No. N-no. I’m not, I can’t be. What are you talking about?”

“You died. In the Munsons’ trailer.”

“You’re lying. I’m right here—I can’t be—” Chrissy’s voice becomes shrill and stricken with panic before an anger steals over her features. “This isn’t funny. What kind of joke is that? I just—I need to get home.”

Tina scoffs, almost disbelieving, and steadies her swaying against a low-hanging branch.

“I went to your funeral. You’re dead. And I must be going crazy…”

The last part comes out half as a laugh, half as a sigh. It’s a fact she’s resigned herself to uncomfortably quickly, but what other explanation could there be? People don’t just see visions of dead girls sitting around and telling them they can’t be dead if they’re not mad.

Chrissy’s expression glazes over, seeming to be lost in her own mind as a fresh wave of tears give a new shine to those mournful eyes.

“You’re lying,” she says again, but this time she sounds more defeated than accusing, like it makes sense to her even if she doesn’t want it to be true.

Or Tina’s mind thinks Chrissy shouldn’t want it to be true—if Chrissy’s ghost actually was in front of her, that is. But she isn’t, because that would be preposterous. She’s just had too much to drink, and she’s been feeling paranoid, and it’s not as if she’s been able to rest since all of this began.

She doesn’t know why she’s indulging this in the first place. 

Her mouth opens to say something to that effect. Surely she has some smartass comment about it all, but all that remains in her mind are the wispy impressions of the thought as she tries her best to reorient herself. In the end, she gets nothing out before a voice calls out for her. 

Damn, she’s been out here for too long. She’s not even really sure how much time has slipped away without her notice between her leaving the gathering and ending up where she stands now.

Right, that decides it, she’s leaving. This—all of this—is something she doesn’t want any part in. Not ghosts, or hallucinations, or whatever any of this is and certainly not while she’s drunk. There are a thousand more important things she could be worrying about, she chides herself as she turns on her heel and sets her eyes on the way back. In fact, she’s mid-step when a feeble voice calls out for her.

“Please, don’t go. I’m scared to be alone…”

Tina pauses, her heart pounding.

“I need to get back,” she says; to herself, because there is no one else there. 

For a moment, Chrissy is quiet. Tina almost thinks the hallucination has finally dissipated when she speaks up again.

“Will you come back?”

Tina’s heart stutters in her chest. This isn’t real. None of this is real. She turns to look behind her and Chrissy is gone, not even a trace of her to be seen. 

“Tina!”

“Yeah,” Tina replies, the words mumbled to herself, as she finally unsticks her feet from the ground to return to the group. 

---

chapter 2

[gavin-reed-is-gay]

Weird question but is there a consensus on what the best/most popular chapter in dbh is?

[sasukeless]

sasuke being painted as The possessive one of the relationship when that’s not shown in canon and people mostly use panels out of context (i saw “my one and only” or “i know your heart and you mine” being used to prove him being possessive which is ???) but somehow naruto that actually has moments he shows to be possessive are not counted. but like even without them, if you analyzed their relationship you would realize it does make the most sense for naruto to be like that unlike sasuke. because naruto has abandonment issues already with sasuke, sasuke did left him and cut him off once and left naruto really traumatized (even if it’s not sasuke’s fault, it’s still one of the biggest sources of naruto’s pain) so him being scared sasuke could leave him again and the urge to keep him makes complete sense. on the other hand, sasuke has never felt that loss, naruto has constantly chased and picked him over everyone including his own goals over and over. and his fears about love turning into grief if he lost naruto are quite literally shattered by naruto himself in vote2.

[blue-eli]

Realised it’s @khoc-week so even though I don’t have the energy to do it daily have this I did a while ago but never posted.

Arxeht my beloved. They came to me in a dream where I was a replica (of multiple people but looked most like Vidar) made by apprentice Nort/Xemnas, who was the fifteenth member of the organisation and also had my knowledge of hit video games Kingdom Hearts and kept getting randomly thrown through space and time.