#aren’t we all supposed to be in a mental hospital lol

[dumbass-forever]

Hurt is underrated ngl ( not sayi it’s their best ao but it’s very good and should be talked abt more) and again nobody’s actually gonna vote but i’m bored so don’t judge.

Ok so if you don’t listen to K-pop idc just listen to these especially the first one makes me happy when i’m in a bad mood so seriously it’s good.

If you have well we all know they’re good so feel free to listen to them again!

[therotatingvillain]

Funny things in Baby Steps, my unfinished Pokevillain fanfic

Alright, after spending too long in a severe depression hole and also spending like way too much time at work, here I am again!

This is gonna be my first update on the Pokevillain fanfiction that my last post was about. What I’m doing is reading through those 43 pages and just get a base understanding of what the fuck I was even doing.

To have all of you be part of this, you’ll get my live thoughts about it! So be ready for some shitposting and a few sneak peeks at the story haha

Cyrus insisting on just being called ‘Cyrus’ because ‘Mr. Akagi’ reminds him of his father is such a mood. Also, yeah, I use their japanese names as their last names, except Guzma, because Guzmas japanese name is Guzma lol So for him I just used his german name ‘Bromley’. Such an ass name

Having stayed in a hospital for the first time not too long ago, 2020 me was surprisingly accurate when it came to hospital food

“What do you think? Aren’t you supposed to be incredibly smart?” She kept smiling, but Cyrus knew it was fake. It had been ever since she entered. It was the same smile his mother always had when talking to guests or clients. God I hate Cyrus nurse, I made her such a bitch lmao

Forgot I made Cyrus lactose intolerant lol

That smile made Cyrus want to go back into the distortion world No comment needed

‘New Guy’ seemed like a major downgrade from ‘God of a new dimension’ but for now, having terribly failed the latter one, the first one was acceptable. 2020 me had banger humor

Guzma looking at Cyrus and just going “You’re my friend now” is how I make all of my friends

Ah yeah, Giovanni is there because of another failed attempt, except for Guzma the rest is there because of court mandation and Guzma is there because Nanu got him a spot.

almost like touching a Rotom that couldn’t quite control its energy. Foreshadowing? Maybe

Guzma immediately having Cyrus back even when Cyrus is clearly in the wrong is so funny to me

Aaaaaaaah gays bonding over piano music

Ah yes, Maxie and Archie are divorced husbands. Yes, they still love each other, yes, Maxie still actively wears his wedding ring while Archie always has it on him somehow

“Hey fuckers, time for lunch!” Mood Guz

Lysandre desperately trying to socialise with his roommate only to routinely be fucked over by his own shitty mental health and eating disorder is too real man

Dr. Roberts is such a kind soul, he’s the therapist OC I created specifically for this story and he’s just a sweetie who’s fantastic at his job and also, obviously, gay and married with a couple kids.

Cyrus went to college (duh) and majored in: Electrical Engineering, Economics, Computer Engineering, Political Science and Computer Science. And finished all his majors in 4 years. Yikes dude, my boy just wanted to study the stars but he was denied by his bullshit parents

Ah yes, Cyrus sister. Buckle in people, time for a bit of lore:

So we all remember the Old Chateau in Eterna Forrest back in gen 4, right? Right. For a long time there was a theory that perhaps Cyrus grew up in that house. How did we come to that conclusion? Basically, Cyrus in Platinum (and the USUM Rainbow Rocket episode) has a severe obsession with the Pokemon Rotom, supplying Charon with detailed notes and diaries all about it and in the Rainbow Rocket episode, he nearly has a breakdown upon seeing the Rotom dex. Now where do you find Rotom in Gen 4? Hiding in a TV in the Old Chateau. So, we theorized that Cyrus grew up there. What else do we find in the Old Chateau? The spirits of a butler and a small girl. So, the theory goes that Cyrus used to have a little sister, but she and a butler of the family were killed in an accident, probably involving the Rotom Cyrus kept, most likely hidden from his parents. Afterwards, his family moved to Sunyshore, leaving the Chateau, where Rotom was still hiding, possibly having come back in search of it’s friend (Cyrus) and then hiding in the TV because it was scared as it was alone, Cyrus nowhere to be found, and sought comfort in the electrical appliance. That’s how the theory goes. This theory is true in my story.

Maxie and Archie being extremely angry bordering on violent with each other makes me sad. And I wrote this shit!

The fact that Cyrus, on his first day there, immediately has a panic attack in the evening is relatable.

Also, Giovanni helps him through it and they start bonding and being cute hehe

For every scene involving stargazing, be aware that I have zero idea about stars. I grew up in the middle of fuck nowhere, so I can see them very clearly each night, but I still have little to no idea about how to read stars lol

Lysandre has anorexia and Cyrus is way too oblivious to understand that it’s ana so he’s just constantly like “wow youre thin” until it clicks lmao

Saturn, Jupiter, Mars and Charon are just codenames and Cyrus never bothered to learn their actual names. Is this also foreshadowing? Maybe hehe

YES CYRUS STAND YOUR GROUND TO THAT PISS POOR EXCUSE OF A NURSE i hate her so much man

Cyrus is a deeply kind person. I will not elaborate yet

Yes, Maxie and Archie get over their shit and back together

Yes, it spirals Giovanni into another suicide attempt

No, I shall not elaborate how one leads to the other

But yeah, there’s a pretty intense part of this that deals with Giovannis shitty mental state and his active suicide attempt (that only barely failed) and Cyrus ends up having a severe breakdown because of it. Like I said in my last post, this story deals with some heavy topics.

Guz and Ly really take on the roles of dads to Cyrus, to help him be more open in his expression and just be who he is and I think that’s beautiful

His breath was caught in his throat, his chest and stomach spreading a comfortable warmth through his body.

What was this? A heart attack? 

No, those felt different. There was no stabbing pain. I love writing Cyrus

THERAPY POKEMON EVERYONE yes the leaders are getting therapy Pokemon

Here’s a list of who they get:

Giovanni: His Persian

Maxie: Toxel

Archie: Hypno

Cyrus: His Rotom

Ghetsis: Castform

Lysandre: Levanny

Guzma: His Golisopod

I’d love for yall to theorize on why each leader gets their respective Pokemon! I actually put some thought in all of them haha

Cyrus grandfather has a big role in Cyrus’ recovery, and it starts with a simple visit that is still one of my favorite parts of this story so far

Cyrus grandfather (Paul Akagi) is the polar opposite to his parents, Paul is kind, loving, supportive and really just wants Cyrus to be happy and their relationship???? it warms my heart

A big part of connection for all of the leaders, specifically everyone else and Ghetsis, is a broken piano in the common room that they all work together to fix and that piano really is a symbol for Cyrus’ recovery and especially his willingness to get better.

GUZMA IS TRANS and this is a fact because I am trans and I said so. Also Ghetsis is a bigot. End of sentence lol

Ghetsis saying some transphobic shit and Guzma then going to PULL HIS NON PARALYZED ARM OUT OF ITS SOCKET is such a girly pop move

Also yes everything I’ve written so far ends on Maxie and Archie remarrying and Dr. Roberts allowing everyone to drink alcohol in celebration and yes of course it escalates lol

Alright everyone, that’s it for now, I’m all caught up, hopefully I’ll get some time to actually write a bit more the next few days. 

As always, please please please interact with this, tell me your thoughts so far, ask questions, I NEED IT okay cool thank you.

I have work tomorrow so I shall go and kill myself lol

Have a great whenever you are! Stay hydrated

Love all of you.

[singletales]

Could my life didn’t end when….

Not when I swung from a clothes line and busted my head.

When my dad beat me for the first time because I couldn’t remember my alphabets.

Not when he was bathing me and put too much soap on my vagina and it burned really bad.

Not now that we don’t have a relationship and he has never really supported any of my goals.

It didn’t end when my mom and dad broke up and I had to grow accustomed to two homes; a step dad and a stepmom.

It didn’t end when I wasn’t at my father’s wedding.

Nor when I had to switch from private school, my father prioritized his wife.

I was too young to understand then and so that wouldn’t end it.

It didn’t end because I felt out of place at times in private school n another lil boy kept trying to touch my vagina.

Nor because I felt out of place in public school was bullied and scorned and ended up in therapy.

Not because my much older cousin would ask me to sit on top of him and whine.

It didn’t end when in my early 20s my best friends cousin tried to rape me and threatened to kill me.

All that did was unlock some hidden trauma, like what my cousin did.

It didn’t end when my mom slapped me in my face on the town for forgetting a bag, or beat me in a taxi for my opinion nor slapped my across my face with a belt for spilling juice, I was 7, days before my birthday, on my birthday she tried to cover it with makeup.

Now she’s found Jesus; I’ve forgiven her and our relationship is prob the best it’s ever been.

It didn’t end when I slapped my grandmother for fisting me in the head for asking her to speak kindly to me, “ the proper way is excuse” I said, courtesy wasn’t a big thing back then.

A lot happened back then.

But to date.

It didn’t end when I caused me and my best friend to be stranded in another parish with strangers.

Nor when I lied and went to Kingston to see my much older boyfriend and my mom said I couldn’t live with her anymore, I was 19.

I spent some days at a friends house and went back home.

Early twenties she beat me with a stick and I had to go to the hospital.

But her life didn’t end when her mom died nor her grandmother nor great grand who raised her.

It didn’t end when the love of her life died in her arms.

Yes my stepdad died, he raised me and I love him dearly.

They had broken up some 9 years before but illness has a way of bringing people together.

And no, it didn’t end when he kicked her out of the house in the middle of the night.

And she took me with her, I remember her saying “don’t cry, be strong as we headed to my grandmothers house.”

It didn’t end because an another cousin asked me to do weird things with him, started with him asking me to suck his finger, I was 14, it only got more strange.

I’ve forgiven everyone. Idk who’s peace my silence helps.

Sometimes my mental health seems shaken but we live in a stressful time and all these traumas aren’t always on my mind.

So, it didn’t end when my grandfather died. He too I loved dearly and was a pillar for my strength and resilience.

Oh and the boyfriend I took to that funeral got his ex pregnant then married her.

lol, GOOD TIMES!

Well, it didn’t end when my primary and high school best friend secretly fucked my first boyfriend.

Nor when I found out the guy who took my virginity was sleeping with ugly girls at his uni.

“Study partners”…

Not to mention when my first love, she moved thousands of miles away and our relationship broke apart.

Not to mention her brother outed us to her partners,

I thought it would end… life that is. It didn’t.

When I came out much later at the end of college for sure I thought I would lose my whole family.

I didn’t and so it didn’t.

I did that all for a girl I thought was forever, that one was really supposed to last.

Alast, it didn’t.

She moved away too, we had plans though goals, a future, real grown up relationship.

But after she declared her unending love she thought “hey, it’s best we date other people to be sure.”

Lot of stuff she put me through I thought it would end for sure lol.

But it didn’t, still here. The relationship ended and somehow I’m okay because underneath it all, it’s really miscommunications overtime that corroded us. No ill will.

The ill will would have truly been my artiste ex, the singer.

Oh he would have done real damage if I truly loved him as much as or more than myself.

He cheated a whole lot and eventually I just became immune to it.

He didn’t support my goals either, kinda like my dad, but not really.

So yup there we have it. Lots of times, maybe even more than I’ve mentioned.

I thought it would end.

But it hasn’t.

God has a purpose for me.

So I hold on to the faith.

No matter how much I get in my head or whenever I start hating my life.

I just gotta remember.

It didn’t end when.

Also a lot of great things has happened, wonderful, glorious LOVE.

it’s not all roses.

It’s hurt, forgiveness, laugher and sometimes pain.

I used to wonder with so much pain n betrayal, have I ever been loved.

But I know I’ve had love and I’m wise enough now to understand it’s not as simple as we would like to picture it.

Pain is there, most times unintentionally.

Be honest, don’t the good outweighs the bad.

If there was no purpose to it, wouldn’t the good wise GOD have ended it by now.

Look at the positives, developments.

And with all this early development, I would be a complete idiot to fail now.

But even if I fail at some things…

Did I die though?

It’s not over till it’s over, strap up, let’s GO!

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 317: My Boy Was Just Like Me

Previously on BnHA: AFO randomly blew up Lady Nagant as a good reminder of why you should never make a deal with this fucking guy, smdh. Hawks was all “well if it isn’t my two best friends, Deku and Lady Nagant, both of whom I respect and love tremendously.” Everyone was all “??” and Horikoshi was all “shh... just pretend” because it was too embarrassing for him to admit that he forgot to write a couple of set-up flashbacks I guess. Anyway so Hawks got Lady to tell them where AFO was hiding out, and everyone said goodbye to her and Overhaul, who never did get to see his boss (sorry buddy, I’ll send you a vial of my tears in the mail), and headed out to a house in the woods. AFO was all “hello Deku :) :) it sure is fun making you suffer :) :) :) anyways this is a trap”, and blew up the house. Yeah, we all here are getting reaaaaaaaal tired of your shit, AFO.

Today on BnHA: The Hawksquad and Edgeplatoon meet in a warehouse and are all “what should we do about the fact that everything sucks?” Mt. Lady is all “here’s a thought, what if we tried battling AFO with more than six people.” Hawks and Endeavor are all “great initiative, but just a friendly reminder that our friends also suck and would probably betray Deku which would suck further still.” Shouto is all “ANSWER THE PHONE DAD” and Endeavor is all “[IRONICALLY DOESN’T ANSWER THE PHONE].” Meanwhile over in Sadtown, capital of Sadland Prefecture, Japan, Deku is all “All Might, as you can clearly see I am completely fine and good, never been better in fact, definitely not caught up in the throes of an epic mental breakdown which is shutting me down emotionally, anyway so on that note I would like to leave you now goodbye!!” All Might is all “[can’t actually form any words because he’s too distraught].” Fandom is all “o(╥﹏╥)o.” Horikoshi is all “(*＾-’) 乃 [pew pew finger guns and barrel rolls into the darkness].”

sweet jesus lord

this literally doesn’t even look like Deku anymore?? this looks like Dark!Deku who shows up to fight you in that one room in the Water Temple. he looks like he’s about to crawl out of my television set and murder me with his psychic powers good lord

holy shit lmao Horikoshi is really just shrugging his shoulders and resolving last week’s cliffhanger with a single line of dialogue

fire is no one’s weakness. idk what other options you’ve got, AFO, but you’re gonna have to go back to the drawing board. maybe try bees or something. I’m just saying. we’re all expecting fire at this point but nobody is expecting bees

anyway so now they’re all sitting in some warehouse somewhere chatting about it I guess. shoutout to Horikoshi for finally giving my man Edgeshot some more dialogue at long last

well, Edgeshot, to answer your question, she exploded. so naturally she’s fine

nah just kidding, Hawks says she won’t be able to help them out much because she’s recovering from being exploded. this is the part where we all ignore the fact that Hawks got set on fire for like a full ten minutes back during the War arc and was only in the hospital for a day. anyways enjoy your temporary plot hiatus Nagant

man there’s a lot of dialogue here and I’m trying to figure out where to insert commentary but it’s kinda difficult lol. basically, Edge and the others are saying that they should gather up the other remaining heroes and get them all caught up on the whole OFA situation. which, hmmmm

like on the one hand, these guys definitely aren’t going to cut it on their own, so it’s a reasonable suggestion on the face of it. but on the other hand, do we really want to entrust the OFA secret to a bunch of other people, most of whom shat the bed during the War arc to be quite frank? is it really worth the additional risk? especially given that any one of them might go spilling the beans to the public -- or worse, betray them to AFO??

also just a quick side note here, Mt. Lady’s character development never ceases to delight me. she’s become so committed to her responsibility as a hero these days, and it fucking suits her. I genuinely consider to be one of the elites now. I mean it doesn’t hurt that all the other elites are fucking dead lol but still

wait what? Death Arms retired??

Death Arms as in the guy who was too afraid of a little fire to try and save a terrified 14-year-old kid who was slowly suffocating right before his eyes?? that Death Arms???? color me surprised. shocked, I tell you

...okay but holy fuck

Death Arms. bro. my expectations for you were low but holy shit. like I’m sorry, but I don’t even have it in me to try and pretend like I feel the slightest bit of sympathy for him or Old Man Samurai or any of those other guys today. thanks for a whole lot of nothing my dude. good riddance

(ETA: so I’m rereading this the next day and realize this comes off as kind of harsh, so let me just try to clarify. it’s not the fact that he’s quitting that bothers me, to be honest. it’s the fact that he’s quitting specifically because he feels like the public is being mean to him. that’s it.

seriously. it would be one thing if he was quitting because he was scared, because now that is human. nobody wants to die, and I doubt any amount of training can ever fully prepare someone to go up against that fear. but the thing is, he never once mentions that, or talks about the danger aspect. instead, I got the distinct vibe from this speech that Death Arms is one of those people who only became a hero because of the limelight. and I just don’t have any patience for that. if all you care about are likes and subscribes then go become a fucking youtuber or some shit. nothing wrong with that! but you didn’t; you signed up to be a hero and protect these people. they gave you their respect and admiration because they trusted you to protect them. and now that they’re no longer in the mood to worship and applaud your every move on account of them being scared shitless because they’re living in the literal end times, you decide to dip. so like okay, fine then. don’t let the door hit you on the way out. anyways lol sorry for the rant.)

anyway so yeah. perfect example of why I don’t exactly have a ton of faith in most of the remaining heroes out there lol. also let me just once again give a shoutout to my best girl Mt. Lady whom I suddenly find myself appreciating all the more

“please calm down makeste. drink some water and enjoy this fresh new jeans pun” listen Horikoshi don’t tell me what to do dammit

fine. it is a nice pun, I guess

-- damn so now Endeavor’s saying that the media is already being fed info by the retired heroes. so for some of these guys it wasn’t enough for them to abandon all the people they swore to protect and to leave their fellow heroes out in the cold; they decided they might as well actively make things worse for them while they were at it, huh. like I get wanting to spill all the dirty secrets from your old job that you just quit, but this isn’t Jeff Bezos you’re screwing over, this is a sixteen-year-old kid

-- like, yes!! this, right here!!

exactly!! let’s not forget that there are already two prior instances of this happening. Endeavor arguably deserved it, but Katsuki not so much

huh. Endeavor seems to have a more optimistic outlook regarding this than I do lol

I mean, this is the same public that didn’t hesitant to blame a kidnapped child for his own kidnapping, and then later on for being the downfall of the Symbol of Peace. but okay then

anyway so blah blah blah, more talk about how they need to use Deku as bait, which basically puts them back at square one, and then they’re all just trailing off into silence and sitting around in the dark lmao this is getting very depressing

SKDJFLSDKJ:LFKJ

SHOUTO?????

NOOOOOOOO ARE YOU KIDDING ME

OH HOW THE TURNTABLES OMG. THE GHOSTER HAS BECOME THE GHOSTEE. Endeavor you petty son of a bitch. and what a brutal cut to that flashback too. “let’s stop Touya together” nah Shouto I’ve got a better idea why don’t I abandon you in U.A. and sally off with Hawks and Jeanist to found the “let’s pretend like we’re doing something to help Deku” club, which basically consists of us sitting around making terrible decisions all day long

Shouto, honey. you deserve better my little Coca Cola can. .........but if you really do have something important you need to tell your dad you could just text it to him. all the love and support, hugs and kisses, you’re doing amazing sweetie. but if you need to pass on any vital information you can just write it down and hit send honey that’s all I’m saying love

now he’s getting another call?? -- or, no, Hawks is getting a call from All Might

ARE YOU FOR REAL HAWKS OMFG

so while you all were sitting around talking about how useless you are, the kid you’re supposed to be protecting was battling another hired gun. I see. please pardon me for one second, I have a phone call to make. the phone call is to RockLockRock and Manual. the reason for the call is to apologize for calling them the worst bodyguards ever back during the War arc. the reason for the apology is because it turns out I WAS SEVERELY MISTAKEN OMFG

JESUS CHRIST DEKU DID YOU JUST KILL THIS MAN LMAO

shoutout to Horikoshi for offscreening this fight. we get it, lol. Deku strong and scary, villains ineffectual and feeble, and AFO... [checks notes] yep, still a dick. the angst arc continues

-- the angst arc continues, SIR

jesus christ I may have to rethink all of my opinions about Deku being framed for murder in movie 3 lmao. never mind. he did it, your honor

holy fucking shit Deku. “he might blow up, so please be careful” fdlskjflk jlskdjflk lwkejflk anyway so I’ve decided the explosion running gag can stay, actually

DEKU WAIT YOU FORGOT YOUR LUNCH!!

lol why do I get the feeling some serious shit is about to go down. ALL MIGHT NEVER MIND BACK OFF I THINK HE NEEDS HIS SPACE

OH MY FUCK I GASPED OUT LOUD

NO NO NO. I KNEW THIS WAS COMING GODDAMMIT BUT NO. NEVER MIND, I CHANGED MY MIND ABOUT IT, I’M NOT READY TO CRY TODAY

shit. shit shit shit shit and OF COURSE all I can fucking think about is that stupid fucking prophecy and gahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Deku please. please please please if you really are going to leave All Might here, please be so very careful in choosing your farewell words to him now because have this sudden horrible fear that this might be the last time you ever see him alive and oh god. oh god oh god

DEKU NO, YOU’RE REALLY NOT!?!?

I HAVE NEVER SEEN ANYONE LESS FINE IN MY LIFE, ACTUALLY????

holy shit. and the fucking callback to the prophecy now. just in case we forgot. WHICH FYI, WE DIDN’T. but that’s basically confirming that this is all still very much on the table and HORIKOSHI NEVER FORGETS oh my god someone please hold me

and the fact that Deku’s flashing back to it now too, though?? because he never forgot either, because of course he didn’t, and now all this stuff is happening, and AFO’s words are getting to him, and this is literally his worst fear come to life and so of course he’s distancing himself from everyone, and now it’s finally come to even this. even the person he admires most

-- OKAY NO, FUCKING COME ON ALREADY I CAN’T TAKE THIS

I GET IT OH MY GOD, I ALREADY UNDERSTAND THE EMOTIONAL IMPACT OF THIS MOMENT WITHOUT ALL OF THE DEVASTATING FLASHBACKS THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH!! YOU ACTUALLY DO WANT ME TO CRY, HUH, IS THAT IT. THIS MAN THAT HE THINKS OF AS A FATHER, THIS MAN WHO HAS BEEN EVERYTHING TO HIM SINCE HE WAS A VERY YOUNG CHILD. EVERYTHING THEY’VE BEEN THROUGH, JUXTAPOSED AGAINST EVERYTHING DEKU IS UP AGAINST, EVERYTHING THAT’S AT RISK. LET’S JUST PUT IT ALL SIDE BY SIDE. LET’S JUST PILE ON ALL OF THE FEELS

(ETA: just a quick note that even though some of the posts I’ve read have described these as All Might’s flashbacks, I’m pretty sure they are Deku’s. most of these are scenes that only he was there for, so yeah. even though All Might is the one thinking the thoughts on the next page, the flashbacks are what’s running through Deku’s mind right now, and so we’re getting that emotion from both of them, which makes it extra devastating lol.)

wait, what???

WHAT??? do you really think that’s why he’s been so determined to protect you this entire time?? simply because you’re his successor?

-- oh no wait lol I think I got that mixed up, this is All Might saying that Deku feels the need to protect him. well that makes more sense lol

oh my god I cannot

his last words. his last words to him. and we can’t even see if he is smiling, like All Might always encouraged him to do. but what are the odds he can’t actually bring himself to do it. what are the odds he’s actually crying. oh god this scene is going to rip my heart out and STOMP on it in the anime isn’t it. Deku’s VA is going to full on murder me with emotion. not that there’ll be much of me left to murder after the thorough job that Horikoshi has already done here

YOU’RE CRYING. DEKU IS LEAVING ALL MIGHT AND IGNORING HIS OUTSTRETCHED HAND AND YOU’RE CRYING. AND BY “YOU” I MEAN “ME”, FUCK

nope nope nope nope nope nope nope nope nope no words just feels just a big ol’ pile of feels. I do not have the strength. future me... [broadly gestures] good luck with all that

(ETA: LOL, WELL THEN.

what breaks my heart here is All Might. All Might, and everything he’s been through, and history repeating itself, and forcing him to live this moment from both sides because he wasn’t strong enough to fix things.

Toshinori had only just turned eighteen when Nana died. like, I feel like we don’t mention this enough. the All Might we know is a sixty-something-year-old man, and so everyone always talks about him like he’s basically been an adult forever. but he was a child when he met Nana. and he was still just a child when she died. barely a year older than Deku is now. younger than Mirio was when we first met him.

and we don’t talk about that. we don’t talk about how devastating that was for him. and we don’t talk about how the reason he grew up to become so reserved and withdrawn -- for all that he always tried so hard to outwardly project the image of a bold, confident, smiling hero -- was specifically because of what AFO did to him. because AFO targeted him in the exact way that he is now targeting Deku. because that’s what he does. he goes after every new user of OFA, and he finds out what’s most important to them, and then he destroys it. and for Toshinori, that was Nana. if you’ve read All Might Rising, you know that AFO basically killed her in front of him (and only killed her, while letting Toshinori and Gran get away). Toshinori (while crying) later says she was like a mother to him. and interestingly enough, during this same conversation, Gran tells Toshinori that he can see “that madness in [his] eyes” when Toshi talks about becoming strong enough to defeat AFO. madness in his eyes. sound familiar??

what’s happening to Deku now is the exact same thing that happened to Toshinori when he was a boy. AFO tried every bit as hard to break him as he’s trying with Deku now. “the path you’ve chosen is a thorny one. every battle grinds away at your soul with no end in sight.” we don’t talk about how Toshinori experienced this same thing for forty fucking years. and all the while isolating himself, exactly like Deku is doing now. pushing people away, exactly like Deku. because he never had anyone who was able to reach out and pull him back. and those words that he now finds himself frozen and unable to speak -- “don’t push yourself”; “you can rest” -- are the same words that no one ever said to him until decades later, when it was already far too late to make any difference.

everything that Deku is experiencing now is what Toshinori also went through. and it’s only now, as he watches it happen to his student, the boy he loves like a son, that he’s finally starting to realize the full extent of how wrong it was. you shouldn’t have to fight alone. you shouldn’t have to bear that kind of enormous burden alone. you shouldn’t have to push yourself, and you can rest. you can rest.

but it’s too late. just as he’s finally coming to understand it all, it’s all too fucking late. and he can’t say the words, he doesn’t know how to say the words, and then just like that, Deku is gone.

and he’s alone. again.)

I can’t. this can’t be their goodbye. I’m not ready. for this to be how they finally part, and then they never see each other again except in OFA. how is that fair. how is that fair. how is that fair

fuck me. lol. how many pages are left in this thing. let’s just wrap this up lol. so now of all the times for this fucking guy to finally show up

I can’t believe Stain has been here literally this entire time hiding behind this random wall and cutting onions. that was you who was cutting the onions, right. no need to answer that we’ll just say it was

HORIKOSHI JUST END THE CHAPTER PLEASE I’M OUT OF SPOONS. YOU HURT ME SO GOOD AND I LOVE YOU FOR IT BUT YOU NEED TO LET ME GO NOW SO I CAN BEGIN THE PROCESS OF TRYING TO PUT MY LIFE BACK IN ORDER HERE. SO WHERE ARE WE CUTTING TO NOW WHAT IS HAPPENING

Stain did you also let AFO give you a new quirk. what’s with you guys. do you like blowing up

oh nvm lol because they were talking about THIS GUY ohhhhhh my fucking god

THAT’S BECAUSE HE’S SAD, LINDA!! jesus

omfg. and so yes, good, the chapter is ending here now on page 15. for once I am FULLY on board with that lmao

anyway so tune in next week for more adventures of Werewolf Deku!! that is, assuming we don’t finally cut back to U.A. at long last, which is actually a strong possibility considering that this chapter will likely mark the end of volume 31. it sure wouldn’t kill Horikoshi to start giving us some hope after everything he’s just put us through lol. KACCHAN COME GET YA BOY

[rosiehunterwolf]

For the Romping and the Roaring- Part 4

My submission for Day 4 of @serpentfever's Inhuman Event!

Link to read on ffn.net (Recommended if you are on mobile or haven't read the previous parts yet)

Preview:

“Cole, watch out!” Zane’s cry came too late as a Borg security officer lunged at him out of seemingly nowhere and grabbed his arm. Cole quickly yanked away, but it set him off balance, and with Zane on him, it was too much weight to stay on his feet, and the two of them fell to the ground with a thud.

Jay yelped in panic, racing back to them, but it was too late. They were already surrounded.

Passersby gawked at them, pointing and whispering. One woman even leaned forward and asked them, “Are you boys okay?”

“They’re after us,” Jay cried, pointing at one of the Borg workers. “They’re trying to kill us, we need help-”

A loud bang sounded, and screams broke out abruptly as citizens crouched to the floor, throwing their arms over their heads, but Cole’s gaze wasn’t on any of them.

(Full chapter under cut)

Prompts Used: Capture, Trust

Word Count: 8,051

Rating: T

Trigger Warnings: Blood, Dehumanization (do I really need to keep putting this lol? I think you get the trend), Imprisonment, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Mental Breakdown, Mentions of Racism (or... Species-ism?)

“Are you out of your mind?”

“Cole, at least consider-”

“I can’t believe you’re coming back to this again. Get over it, they’re not on our side!” “We don’t know that,” Zane insisted. “Look, I don’t want to trust the police any more than you do. It’s a huge risk, you’re right, one I would prefer not to take. But what other choice do we have? We don’t have any other ideas, this is the best we’ve got.”

“There’s got to be something else,” Cole groaned.

“Think about it,” Zane pleaded. “If we keep running, we’re just going to get caught by Borg. Guaranteed death, sooner or later. Or at the very least, a lifetime of imprisonment. With the police- while there is a decent chance of imprisonment, or even death, it’s not certain.”

“He’s got a good point, Cole.” Jay admitted.

“I thought you were afraid of the police!” “I am! But I’m even more scared of Borg. I think I’ll take my chances.”

Cole stared at him. “You’re gonna make me do this, aren’t you?”

“Do you see any other plans?” Jay cried. “This is all we’ve got, Cole. Are you going to actually try to get out of this, or just keep running forever?”

Cole sighed slowly. “Fine. Let’s go.”

“Over here! They went through here!” “Shit, they found it already,” Cole cursed. “Come on, we have to hurry!”

“Follow me,” Jay barked.

Cole was worried that he wouldn’t be able to find the strength to keep running, especially with Zane on his back, but the shouts from behind him spiked his adrenaline, and he closed some of the gap between him and Jay.

Jay glanced behind them every so often, and Cole tried to ignore it. He didn’t have time to be thinking about that, he just had to focus on running. He had to leave that up to Jay, who had the endless energy of a lab to keep him going. One time, though, his eyes widened to the size of saucers, and he pushed Cole to go faster. “They’ve got guns, Cole, hurry, hurry!”

“What?!” Cole nearly missed a step in his panic. “We can’t outrun guns!”

“We need to make it out of these alleys,” Jay ordered. “They won’t be able to shoot us out on the streets, or people will see. Aim for that exit right there, and don’t look back!”

A loud bang echoed through the air, and Jay yelped, jumping up. Cole looked over at him frantically, but he quickly waved his hands. “I’m not hit, it just scared me.”

Glancing back, his ears flattened. “Holy shit, they’re really getting ready to fire at us now, they’re going to shoot us, go faster!”

I’m trying, he wanted to wail, but he didn’t dare waste any breath on the utterance, and instead focused on running as fast as he could go. His legs were burning, and he wanted nothing more than to just collapse in a heap on the ground and never run again, but he knew he couldn’t do that. Especially not with Zane here. He was relying on him, and Cole wasn’t about to give up yet.

The three of them burst out of the alleys and onto a busy street, nearly right into the path of an oncoming car, and horns blared at them. They quickly darted off the streets and followed Jay towards the police station.

Cole risked a glance back. The Borg security officers were just exiting the alley, much more gracefully than they had done, and were dispersing into the crowd, disappearing before his eyes. It was good that they couldn’t be shot at, anymore, but… in a lot of ways, this was worse. They would never be able to see them coming.

“Jay, are we almost there,” Cole urged.

“Yes, just another block-”

“Cole, watch out!” Zane’s cry came too late as a Borg security officer lunged at him out of seemingly nowhere and grabbed his arm. Cole quickly yanked away, but it set him off balance, and with Zane on him, it was too much weight to stay on his feet, and the two of them fell to the ground with a thud.

Jay yelped in panic, racing back to them, but it was too late. They were already surrounded.

Passersby gawked at them, pointing and whispering. One woman even leaned forward and asked them, “Are you boys okay?”

“They’re after us,” Jay cried, pointing at one of the Borg workers. “They’re trying to kill us, we need help-”

A loud bang sounded, and screams broke out abruptly as citizens crouched to the floor, throwing their arms over their heads, but Cole’s gaze wasn’t on any of them.

It was on Jay, who was screaming, loud and guttural, as he crumpled to the ground.

Cole’s world slammed into a dizzying panic, and time seemed to move in slow motion as he lunged forward, grabbing his friend before he could hit the ground. Jay slumped against him, his breathing fast and ragged. Blood was quickly staining his sleeve, already dampening Cole’s hand as he held him.

“Jay, try to relax,” he murmured, trying to calm himself just as much as his friend. “You’re gonna be okay, just listen to the sound of my voice-”

To his horror, Jay’s eyelids were already beginning to droop. “No, no bud, stay with us, hang on a bit-”

Cole felt Zane’s hand on his shoulder, and saw that he had limped over to him and was staring at Jay with terror. “Someone, call an ambulance!” he begged.

“What’s going on over here?” A gruff voice broke through the chaos, and Cole and Zane looked to see a squadron of police pushing their way through the crowd.

“They’re trying to kidnap us,” Cole barked, pointing at the Borg security officers. “They shot Jay! They tried to kill us!”

“They’re liars,” a Borg security officer insisted. “They’re a gang of criminals who attacked us! We were only acting in self-defense!”

The head policeman shot a doubtful look at Cole, Zane, and Jay. “They’re children.”

“That doesn’t mean they can’t be criminals! It only helps them to get away with their offenses!”

“We didn’t attack anyone! They have no proof!”

“Neither do you!”

Shouts broke out among the group, and the policeman hollered over all the noise. “Enough! Break it up, break it up, everyone. Everyone here is a suspect of crime. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you. Do not resist.”

“You’re arresting us?” Cole cried. “They’re the bad guys, here!”

“Young man, we don’t have enough evidence to accuse or clear anyone, yet. All of you are going to be coming back with us to the station.”

“What about Jay,” Cole pleaded, hugging the boy closer to his chest. “He needs to get to a hospital, he’s hurt!” “We’ll call an ambulance for the boy. The rest of you will come with us.”

“We can’t go with him?” Zane exclaimed.

“A visit can be scheduled at a later time. For now, we need to figure out what’s going on.”

“We already told you what’s going on,” Cole wailed, but no one was listening to him anymore.

The rest of the evening seemed to pass in a blur, the Borg workers being rounded up and stripped of their weapons, flashing blue and red lights of the ambulance blurring his eyes as Jay was pried from his arms by the paramedics, and they were forced into a police car, confused and exhausted, the thick black bars across the window boxing them in.

Cole squeezed his eyes shut, tears slipping down his cheeks.

Zane had never been super adamant on physical affection, but he hugged him tightly throughout the whole car ride.

Was it too much to ask for, things going their way for once?

He supposed, if the rest of their lives were anything to go by, the answer was yes.

---

That day, when they had found out that Lloyd’s shot hadn’t worked, had not only saved Lloyd’s life, but likely Kai’s as well.

It had given him a reason to hope, a reason to live. It wasn’t over yet. They still had a chance.

But with time, hope quickly faded. Days blurred together, time lost its meaning. At first, he tried to use the timing of meals to count the days, but even that was unreliable- were they being fed daily, or less frequently? There was no way to know.

After so long, he stopped caring, anyway.

The only other consistency was Lloyd’s testing. The trainers came in regularly, hauled him away on that wretched leash, then brought him back half-unconscious, always with a fresh scar somewhere on his body. He would collapse on the floor as soon as he was secured back in his cell, oftentimes not even bothering to make it to the mattress. He spent a lot of the time sleeping, and it wasn’t unusual for him to miss meals. The caretakers had tried to wake him up at first, but they soon gave up. He was losing too much blood. Soon, he would reach the end of his rope. Kai didn’t know what to do except look away, the pitiful sight of the boy making him sick to his stomach and only reminding him of his failure.

They had been given another chance, but soon it would pass. Soon this one would be gone too, and then he would really be gone.

This was only prolonging the inevitable. There was no way to escape the room. They were never getting out.

He spent most of his days curled up on the mattress, not moving. Sometimes he slept, but a lot of the time it wouldn’t come, and he just stared at the ceiling.

It wasn’t like there was anything else for him to do.

He could tell Nya was worried about him. He could feel her gaze burning into him, and every once and a while she would try to get him to talk to her. Their conversations always fizzled out after a few sentences or so, though.

He hated worrying her. He knew he wasn’t the only one struggling- sometimes, he could hear Nya crying softly when she thought everyone else was asleep- and her usual alert aura had faded, leaving a weariness in her movements. Adding another thing for her to stress over wasn’t fair to either of them. But Kai couldn’t help it. His energy had been sapped, a heaviness blanketing him and confining him to the mattress. He had never felt anything like this before, and he was scared about what it meant.

It also really, really sucked.

The familiar sound of the food bowls clanking announced the caretakers were here to feed them. Kai groaned softly. Every meal had gotten increasingly harder to eat. His stomach felt hard and achey, just the thought of eating anything making him feel nauseous. What he had to eat, exactly, certainly wasn’t helping things, either.

He barely noticed as the collar was switched on, and the usual mealtime process took place. He closed his eyes, the beams of their flashlights and the rustle of their clothes as they shuffled around giving him a headache.

“Eat your food, creature,” a loud, harsh voice snapped. Kai reluctantly opened his eyes. The caretaker was already outside the cell, glaring at him. Across the room, Nya was already almost finished with her meal. Even Lloyd, who, for once, was awake, was crouched near the bowls, weakly lapping at the water in the bowl, looking as if his face was about to fall into it at any moment.

Kai groaned, slowly pushing himself off of the mattress, and crawling over to the bowls. He resisted the urge to gag as he stared down at them. Nothing had ever looked so unappetizing in his life.

“Kai, please eat,” Nya begged. “You need to eat.”

“I don’t want to.”

“I know, but you have to.”

“I can’t.”

“Do it for me. Please?”

Grimacing, Kai relented, leaning forward and taking a mouthful of food from the bowl. He bit down slowly, the grainy texture grinding against his teeth harshly. He tried to swallow, and broke into a fit of coughing, spitting half of the pellets back out, his breathing heavy as he tried to keep it all down.

“Kai?”

He sighed, and went back to the bowl, this time just taking a few of the pellets between his teeth. Bit by bit, he worked away at the food, until he had swallowed all he could bear, his stomach aching with heaviness.

“I’m done,” he panted, looking away from the still half-full bowl and rolling onto his side. “That’s all I can eat. I’m sorry.”

The collar turned on, the bowls were taken away. Once they were alone, Nya just stared at him for a moment, her gaze sad.

“Kai… I know this is hard. I’m on the verge of breaking myself. But I need you. You’re the only thing keeping me sane. If you… if something happens to you… just, I can’t let that happen. I need you in my life. I need you to be here.”

Kai looked at her, and their eyes locked for a moment. There was so much emotion in her gaze, and for a minute, Kai was plunged into the raging fear, depression, and anger there. Quickly blinking, he turned away.

“I wish I could help you, Nya. I really do. But I’m not as strong as you think I am. I can’t do this forever.”

“None of us can.” She sniffed, a wretched, defeated tone to her voice as she fell silent, consuming the room in a blanket of quiet once again.

---

Cole stared bleakly through the thick metal bars boxing them in.

Imprisoned again.

This time, though, it was the more traditional method of containment, locked in a cell with just some bare essentials, none of the luxuries they had back with Borg.

Not that it would’ve made a difference if they had- playing video games or reading a book was the absolute last thing on his mind right now.

“When do we get to see Jay?”

The police officer outside their cell sighed loudly. “I’ve told you, we still can’t let you out of here until we’ve figured out what’s going on.”

“Every time we try to tell you, you don’t listen!”

“A trial will likely be held once your friend is well enough to attend. Then you’ll be able to speak freely about your side of the story.”

“A trial?” Cole cried. “We don’t have time for that!”

The policeman raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh, my apologies, I didn’t realize you would have to clear your schedule.”

“Sir, that’s not what he means,” Zane pleaded. “Our friends are in danger. If nobody goes after them soon, they could be killed.”

The policeman’s expression faltered at that. “You never mentioned others.”

“Because you never gave us a chance to tell you!” Cole cried. “Please, sir, you have to listen to us. The other people you arrested- well, I don’t know how much they’ve told you, but they’re Borg Industries employees. They work for Issac Borg, and they’re trying to kidnap us. There were six of us, but the other three disappeared a few days ago, and we haven’t heard anything from them, we’re really worried-” Cole cut off as tears flowed out unbidden, and he felt Zane wrap his arms around him tightly as he tried to catch his breath.

“Please, officer,” Zane begged. “We’re only kids. We never wanted to get mixed up in all of this. At least hear what we have to say.”

The officer blinked at them sadly. “I never was comfortable locking a bunch of young people like you up in a cell, especially when the other group at hand openly lashed out and injured one of you.” He eyed Cole’s pointed fangs and Zane’s wings warily. “Even if you are… unusual. I’ll talk to the Commissioner, see what she says.”

As he turned and began to walk away, Zane spoke again, softly. “But will she listen?”

The officer stopped.

“Nobody ever listens to us,” Cole grunted. “We’re tired of not getting a say. Just because we’re different than… than humans, doesn’t mean we’re any less valued.”

The man turned back to them. “No one said that.”

Cole watched his eyes as he evaluated them more closely. Watched how they immediately darted to Cole’s teeth, the white stripe in his hair. Then to Zane, and the thick, tawny plumage unfurling from his back. His eyes, whether he wanted them to be or not, were judgemental, cautious. There was sadness there too, but mostly fear.

Cole felt a flare of anger in his chest. He wondered, as the policeman watched them so carefully, if he saw the way Zane’s feathers were rustled and unkempt, bent and dirty, the bald patch where the feathers had been ripped out by a caretaker, or the bandages that had been wrapped around his injured ankle the previous night. He wondered if he noticed the way Cole’s curls were droopy and flat, leaving his small, furry black ears exposed and vulnerable, or how the smudges on his glasses glinted as they caught the light.

He was a liar. He didn’t care about them. No one cared.

“You may not say it,” Zane said calmly before Cole’s anger could get the better of him. “But you think it.” The policeman opened his mouth to protest, but Zane shook his head. “You don’t need to feel offended. You are not the only one to think this way. In fact, I’m not sure if we’ve ever come across someone who knew our secret and didn’t view us as inferior.”

The man had the decency to look guilty, now. “And that’s supposed to make me feel better?”

“No.” Uncharacteristic resentment flashed in Zane’s eyes. “It’s supposed to tell you what we’ve been through.”

The man glanced behind him warily. Sighing, he grabbed a chair and pulled it up. “I’ll listen to what you have to tell me. Whether it’s about yesterday, or… everything else. But, just so you know,” his voice dropped to a whisper. “Everything you say is being recorded. If there’s anything you want to keep private, here isn’t the place to share it.”

Zane looked over at him, and Cole shrugged. “There’s not much we need to hide at this point, anyway. If they don’t help us, no one will.”

Zane turned to the officer, a slightly helpless look on his face. “I don’t even know where to start. The last few weeks have been… overwhelming, at best.”

“What about last night? Why was Borg Security chasing you?”

“They want to kidnap us again,” Cole growled. The policeman flinched back at the inhuman sound emitting from his throat. “The last three weeks or so, they’ve been hunting us down, and we had to hide out in an abandoned warehouse, living off pocket money we’ve collected over the last ten years.”

The officer blinked. “Again? How long ago did they first bring you in?”

Cole and Zane exchanged glances.

“I have no idea how we got there,” Zane murmured. “None of us do. We were much too young to remember anything when Borg first brought us in.”

The officer’s jaw fell slack. “You mean to tell me you’ve been there since you were infants?”

“I suppose so.” Cole looked down at his feet. “It’s the only life I can remember.”

“I don’t understand. There was never any randsome posted for you.”

“I don’t think this was any regular kidnapping,” Zane said. “I’m not sure what Borg wanted us for, but I’m sure the last thing he needed was money. He’s not exactly light-pocketed. And, according to him, he didn’t kidnap us, he ‘took us in’ when everyone else rejected us. Although, I would be surprised if he wasn’t lying about that.”

“Now that I think about it,” Cole added, “He did spend a lot of time teaching us to fight. I wonder if that had anything to do with why he wanted us.”

The officer frowned. “Why wouldn’t your parents report your absences?”

Cole blinked at him. “Well, we never knew our parents. Half of them are wild animals, anyway… and I guess the human ones just didn’t care about us. Probably thought we were freaks like everyone else.”

The officer swallowed a couple times, looking at a loss for words. When he spoke again, his voice was gruff. “While we’re on that… what exactly are you?”

“We’re hybrids,” Zane explained. “Half human, half beast. I’m part falcon,” gesturing to Cole, he added, “he’s part badger, and Jay, the one in the hospital, is part labrador. Each of us has inherited certain attributes from our animal counterparts that cause us to stand out from the human race.”

“So go ahead,” Cole barked. “Laugh at us, jeer at us, lock us up in some cage so you can study us.”

“Cole…”

“I’m not going to do any of that,” the officer insisted. “And as for the cell… I’m really sorry about that. It’s just station protocol, it has nothing to do with your… uh, species-”

“Sure it doesn’t. I’m sure you lock all your young charges who were literally being shot at by a group of criminals in cages, don’t you?”

The officer pulled back from the bars of the cage as Cole bared his teeth at him. Zane put a hand on his arm, but he shrugged him off. “It’s blatant, thinly veiled discrimination, and you think you can shamelessly get away with it just because you’re the police. This is no different from what Borg did to us our whole lives!”

“Stop,” Zane snapped. “I know you’re angry. You have every right to be. I’m upset too. But can’t you see that arguing isn’t going to solve anything right now? We need them to trust us, and showing aggression is only going to make them fear us more.”

Cole slumped against him, pulling back. “Fine.” Turning towards the officer, but refusing to meet his gaze, he halfheartedly muttered, “Sorry.”

“No,” the officer told him, a faint tremble in his voice. “I’m the one who should be sorry. You’re right, this isn’t fair. You shouldn’t be in here, and we’re just- well, no, I don’t have a good excuse, but unfortunately I’m not in a position where I can change that-”

“It’s okay,” Zane assured him. “You’ve done more than most by just giving us a chance, just listening to us.”

The officer eyed him sadly. “That just makes this worse. You shouldn’t have such low standards for yourselves.”

“Don’t you see, though? You can change that. You’re our only hope. If you’re willing to listen to us, maybe others will listen to you. You can try to advocate for us.”

The officer looked uncertain. “I can try.”

“What else do you need to know?”

“What was it like in there? With Borg, I mean. Did he do anything that might’ve tipped you off on what he’s planning?”

“We got all sorts of nice stuff,” Cole told him. “Flatscreen TV, nice gaming systems, an advanced kitchen and more ingredients than we could ever need, lots of books- we even had a little window, too. But the door connecting our living space to the rest of Borg Tower was always locked. We only went out for training- there was lots of that- and ‘doctor’s appointments,’ which we later figured out were DNA tests.”

“Didn’t you ever get to leave?”

“He let us go into town, every so often,” Zane explained. “Like one a month, maybe. But one of our friends figured out he was actually monitoring us in private during those trips.” Looking down at his feet, he added, “We always had our reservations about the kind of life we were living. Some more than others. But we had been sheltered for all of our lives, led to believe that the world was malicious and cruel towards our kind, that the tower was the only place we were safe. For a long time, we thought we were being protected. We thought that this was the best life for us. We were lulled into a false sense of security.”

The officer took a shaky breath. “What changed? What made you try to escape?”

Zane’s eyes darkened, and Cole felt his fists curl. He kept his voice grizzly and deep to try to disguise the shakiness of it. “Some of us were eavesdropping, and we found out he was planning on killing one of us. We knew then, that he had never cared about us, and we had to go before we lost Lloyd forever.”

“Lloyd,” The officer frowned, scooting his chair forward. “You mentioned others?”

“Yes,” Zane said. “There were six of us, originally. The other three, Kai, Nya, and Lloyd, went missing a few days ago and we haven’t seen or heard from them since. They… they were just going into town to get some supplies and stuff, and… they never came back.”

“We immediately feared the worst,” Cole whimpered. “We’re afraid Borg will punish them for escaping. And Lloyd was the one Borg wanted to kill, originally. We don’t even know if they’re still alive.”

“If you won’t do anything for us, at least save them,” Zane begged, clutching at the bars. “The six of us are the closest thing to family we’ve got, and if anything were to happen to them…” his voice broke, choking on a sob, and Cole hugged him close.

“As much as I want to help, I really don’t know what I’m going to be able to do for you boys.” The officer’s voice was softer than Cole had heard it yet. “But if what you say is true, Borg will be looking at some serious charges, and no matter what sentences may befall you, if any at all, it’s the police force’s civic duty to protect lives. I’ll get them to save your friends, I know I will. But I’m going to need any information I can get. Can you give me that?” “We can try,” Cole told him, pulling back from Zane and wiping at his eyes. “But we really don’t know much.” “Do you know where they’re being kept?” “Presumably Borg Tower,” Zane said. “Although we can’t be certain. That’s actually what we were doing when the Borg security officers started chasing us, trying to scope out the place. We overheard them talking, and we’re pretty sure they have our friends there, but… nothing more specific than that.”

“Well, physical descriptions are going to be very helpful too.” The officer paused, pulling a notepad and pen out of his pocket. “How old are they, for starters?”

“Kai’s eighteen, Nya’s sixteen, and Lloyd’s four.”

The officer looked up sharply at that. “Four?” “Yes, he’s so small,” Cole fretted. “Now can you see why we’re so afraid?”

“This is serious. Can you give me a physical description of all of them? The more details, the better.”

Zane rambled off to the officer about all of their missing friends, Cole pitching in occasionally, as he furiously scribbled the information down on his pad. When they were finished, he had several pages filled with notes. Cole hoped it would be enough.

“Thank you, both. And I’m so sorry we didn’t listen to you earlier.”

“You did it now, which is the important thing,” Zane murmured. “That’s the first time anyone’s done anything like that for us.”

“It’s the least I could do- oh, I never caught your names.”

“I’m Zane.”

“Cole.”

“Officer Grey. Thomas Grey. Thank you for your time, boys.”

Putting a hand on the bars, he looked them dead in the eyes, the reservation and fear they had held before nowhere in sight. “Zane, Cole- I promise, I’m going to do everything in my power to help you.”

---

Time passed, and life only got harder. There were some days where Kai didn’t even have the strength to get out of bed- or his sorry excuse for a bed, anyway.

He managed, mostly. He survived. He forced himself to keep going, however much he didn’t want to.

But one day, he woke up, and everything just felt wrong.

It didn’t help that the previous day had been rough. Last night, Lloyd had come back from wherever the trainers took him, again, and this time it had been really bad. He had been half-dragged to his cell, and he hadn’t woken up since. Nya had checked every so often for the rise and fall of his chest, and he seemed to be breathing pretty steadily, but- it had left something hard inside Kai when he had gone to bed that night.

Not to mention, the water for the last meal had tasted even worse than usual, a strong metallic taste making Kai feel sick to his stomach and putting him in an all-around bad mood.

This was going to be a hard day. Not that every day in this wretched place wasn’t awful, but… this was going to be one of those worst kinds of days, he could tell.

The ones he didn’t know if he would make it through.

Scared he wouldn’t ever be able to get up again if he didn’t move now, Kai scooched off the mattress and onto the floor. Already, he was horribly overwhelmed, and curled up, hugging his knees to his chest, his back against the mattress, trying to focus on just getting his breath in and out.

The cell was dark, so dark, the blackness pushing in on all sides-

“Kai? Hey, Kai, can you hear me?” Nya? He felt like that was Nya, speaking. Maybe. It was hard to place, for some reason.

Kai put his hands over his head. Why was everything so loud?

“Kai, look at me. Look at me now.”

“I can’t.”

“You can.”

“No, I can’t.”

“Just try.”

“I can’t,” he wailed. “I’m weak. Worthless. I can’t move.”

“Kai, listen to me, it’s all in your head. You’re stronger than this, you can overpower it.”

Kai willed himself to move, to look at her, feeling a slight twitch. Saliva bubbled in his throat and he coughed, before slowly turning his head to look at her.

“Good job, bud. You did it.”

“Barely.”

“We’ll take it one step at a time.”

“I’m falling apart, Nya. I’m cracking. There’s no hope left for me.”

“You’re not cracking.”

“I don’t know what’s happening to me, Nya.”

“You’re gonna be okay, Kai. As long as you listen to my voice, okay?”

Kai closed his eyes, letting her gentle tones wash over him. “I’m so tired, Nya.”

“I know.”

There was silence for a long time after that. Kai hated the silence. It scared him. Down here, silence meant loneliness and despair and left him alone with his pounding thoughts to slowly eat away at him. Down here, silence meant death.

“You think they’ll ever come back for us, Nya?” he asked, when he couldn’t let the quietness stretch on any longer.

He expected her to assure him in soothing tones, to tell her that their family would never give up on them, that they only had to be patient, and have faith. They would come, and it would take the whole of Ninjago City to stop them.

Kai smiled, for the first time in who-knew-how long, just at the thought of her words, the movement stinging his horribly cracked, dry, lips. But the real Nya didn’t speak.

“Nya?” Turning towards her cage, he was caught off guard to see her face buried in her hands, tears streaking her face as she gulped on the sobs.

He tightened his hands on the bars. “Nya?!”

“How could they come back,” she whispered. “No one knows where we are. We don’t know where we are. They don’t even stand a chance of getting close to us without Borg catching them, and then we’ll all be trapped down here and then we’re all gonna die-”

“Nya, I…” he wanted to comfort her, but he didn’t know how. He didn’t know if he could, because the same thoughts were cycling through his head. How was anyone going to rescue them?

“I wanna go home,” she choked. “I don’t even have a home anymore, but I just wanna get away from here, I wanna see Cole, and Zane, and Jay, I wanna see him so bad. I think I love him, Kai, I love him and I never got to tell him-”

“He knows,” Kai whispered. “You kissed him that one time, remember?”

“But I didn’t tell him. I need to tell him, I don’t wanna die down here, Kai, I don’t wanna die!”

For the first time since they had been down here, Kai felt like the helpless one. He had been so caught up in his own depression that he had been oblivious to how his sister was suffering just as much as he was.

And now, she was hurting so badly because he hadn’t given her any attention. In fact, he had probably only made things worse for her.

“Jay!” Nya screamed, loud and shrill, the noise echoing off of the walls, reverberating back to them, then going nowhere.

“Cole! Zane! Jay! Help me!”

Nya screamed. She screamed and screamed, but no matter how loud she cried out, the sound never left the room. Never reached the desired ears. Only Borg heard them, they quickly found out, as the shock collars were switched on, and both of them fell to the ground, Nya still sobbing as she rocked herself, and Kai splayed out, silently writhing from the pain as tears beaded in his eyes, even though he was sure he was too dehydrated to cry.

When the pain finally ended, Kai was barely gripping onto consciousness. He still hated the silence just as much as ever, but this time he didn’t try to break it. It was better than the pain.

A long time passed as they just laid there, on the ground, too scared even to move. When Nya finally dared to speak again, her voice was a hushed whisper.

“When will this end?”

“I don’t know. Not long, I think.”

“I know you’re not talking about the same way I am.”

“No. But it’ll be over, won’t it?”

Nya was quiet for such a long time after that, that Kai thought she had fallen asleep.

“Over, would be a very nice thing, indeed.”

---

The next few days passed with barely a sight of Officer Grey. Every moment in the cell was pure torture for Cole, because it was just another moment that they weren’t saving their friends, who were likely in a much worse cell than this one.

At least, while they were waiting, Zane’s ankle got a chance to heal. Cole had a feeling that this wasn’t going to go down without a fight, and they would need to be at full strength if they didn’t want to mess this up.

When Officer Grey finally showed up again, he came bearing mixed news.

“I’ve talked to my colleagues, told them about what you said and gave them the video footage. The good news, they agree that we should go look for your friends and investigate the case. The bad news, they’re still unwilling to trust you. They want you to stay here when we go, and charges may still be pressed when we return.”

Zane sighed. “The main thing is that you save them. That is all we will worry about for the time being.”

“But we could help,” Cole protested. “Our senses are stronger than humans. We might be able to scent or hear or see something you can’t. It could be the difference between life and death for our friends!”

“I know. I tried to talk them into it. It’s not that no one wants to believe you, but…”

Cole leaned back, crossing his arms. “Oh, so it’s about our genetics, again, is it?”

Grey flinched. “Look, they mean well, but people tend to be stubborn in their ways-”

“It doesn’t matter now,” Zane interrupted. “We can change their minds. Take us to them.”

“Wait, what? I can’t do that!” Cole glared at him. “I thought you were on our side.”

“I am! But I could get fired for letting you out without approval-”

“And our friends could die.”

Grey stared at him for a moment. Sighing deeply, he reached for his keyring. He paused at their cell door.

“They’re not going to bend easily, if at all. You’re probably not going to accomplish anything by this, and will only get in more trouble.”

“We’re not giving up,” Cole huffed. “We have to at least try. Our friends are worth any punishment they can dish out.”

“Fine.” A jangling of keys, then the door was swung open. “Just be careful about what you say, okay?”

Cole and Zane slipped out of the cell, and Cole took a deep breath, already feeling so much better with one less wall between him and the outdoors.

“Oh, um… one more thing.”

They both turned to Grey, who was looking at them sheepishly. Reaching into his belt, he extracted two pairs of handcuffs. “You should probably put these on. Not that I don’t trust you!” he added hurriedly at their expressions, “but it will show the other officers that we aren’t making a stand or trying to be aggressive. Trust me, things will blow over a little smoother if they see you restrained.”

“Fine,” Cole grumbled, “but you better not make us fight in these.” Him and Zane held out their hands as the cuffs were snapped on, and Cole shot them a sharp glare.

“Also-”

“What is it now,” Cole snapped. “You want us chained and muzzled, too?”

“No, of course not.” Grey said softly. “You’re not animals.”

Zane cleared his throat. “Technically, we are. Half, at least.”

“That’s not the point. I mean- like, that’s cruel and unjust punishment. We would never do that here. Even if you are a different… species.”

Cole snorted. “Borg should take a page out of your book.”

Grey gave him one of those sad looks that he had seemed to be giving a lot of since that first day they had talked, but didn’t press the matter. “What I was going to say, was that the others are speaking with the Borg security officers. If we’re going to go see them, the Borg workers will be there too.” He eyed him warily. “Is that okay?”

“I mean, if it’s our only choice,” Zane murmured.

“They’re locked up- behind bars- right? And weaponless?”

“Of course. They’re prisoners here too, y’know.”

“Fine. Then let’s go. Lead the way.”

As Grey led them through the different blocks of the prison to where the other officers were, Cole tried to ignore the dirty looks the other inmates were shooting them, and ignore as they gawked at his ears, or Zane’s wings. Forcing himself to look forward, he shuffled slightly closer to Grey’s side.

After what seemed like forever, he finally stopped at a door, chose a key from the ring, and unlocked the door. Zane and Cole cautiously slipped in after him.

The room smelled musty and dingy, and Cole wrinkled his nose as they slipped past rows and rows of bars. Some of the inmates looked to be petty criminals or street thieves, while some bore the familiar jackets of Borg Security. Many of those ones snapped to attention when they saw who was passing. Cole tried not to look at them, pushing down the bubbling anger in his chest.

A group of police officers turned away from the cell and towards them. “Grey!” one of them, a well-muscled female with a loud voice barked. “What are the prisoners doing out of their cell?”

“Commissioner Morgan, we talked about this. These are the kids who were kidnapped by Dr. Issac Borg.”

Morgan narrowed her eyes at them. “Or so they say.”

“What reason do we have to lie?” Zane asked.

“I already approved a squad to investigate Borg Tower,” she snapped. “What more do you want?”

“They want to accompany us, Commissioner. They have special skills that could help us if things… take a violent turn.”

“There is no need for violence,” Morgan grunted, shooting a glare at Cole and Zane. “Tell your animal friends that they need to control their savage instincts.”

“We can control plenty,” Cole argued. “We’re not some wild beasts that need to be tamed. But I don’t think you understand the severity of the situation. Borg has shown us, firsthand, that he is not afraid to kill others to get what he wants. We will only do what is necessary.”

“Don’ listen to ‘em. The little brats don’t know their place, and they will fight back.”

Cole whipped around to see one of the Borg security guards leaning up against the walls of his cell. Cole immediately recognized him as the one who had shot Jay, and, before he could stop himself, he was darting forward and awkwardly grabbing him by the collar of his shirt through his handcuffs.

“Where are they,” he hissed. “What has Borg done with them and where are you keeping them?”

“Cole!” Zane cried.

Immediately, strong hands grabbed him from the back and pulled him away from the prison bars. The security guard took the opportunity to bolt back from the bars, shaken by Cole’s aggression. He wasn’t done yet, though. He pulled back against the police officers, shouting.

“Where are they? What have you done?”

“Cole, stop,” Zane insisted, running up to him and trying to get a grip on him. “They already think we are aggressive. You’re only making that worse.”

“You don’t understand,” Cole cried to the police officers, clinging to Zane. “Those people are some of the only ones I have left, and they’re in mortal danger. I just need to stop it, I need to protect them, I promised to protect them-” he buried his face in Zane’s shoulder as the falcon hybrid held him tight.

“I just want them back,” he whispered.

“I know,” Zane murmured. “I know.”

When Cole raised his head again, he noticed that many of the police officers were now looking uncertain or uncomfortable. After a moment, the Commissioner turned towards the security officer Cole had yelled at.

“You heard the boy. Where are his friends being kept?”

The man stared at her incredulously. “You think I’m telling?”

The woman leaned forward, banging on the bars. “You really think you’re in a position to sass around the police Commissioner?”

Everyone in the cell cringed back. But no one spoke.

“If you’d rather have an extra three years added to your jail time for the withholding of information from a superior, I’m sure that could be arranged. Not to mention, you already are to be given a trial for accusations of attempted murder and kidnapping.”

The man looked down at his feet, grimacing. “Fine! They’re in Borg Tower. You happy?”

“Where in Borg Tower?”

The man met Cole’s gaze. “I don’t know. It’s not withholding information if I don’t know it!”

“You’re lying.”

“Prove it.”

Grey sighed. “Drop it, Cole, he’s not telling you.”

“Well, this has been useful.”

“At least we know for sure that’s where they are now. Now we know we’re not just going on some wild goose chase.”

“I suppose.”

“Now that we know where we are going, we’ll set out for your friends in the morning,” Commissioner Morgan announced. “We’ll decide what happens next once that has been dealt with.”

Cole nodded. “We’ll be ready.”

“Now, wait a minute. Who told you that you were coming with?”

“You said-”

“I’m against kidnapping and possible torture, especially against minors. It doesn’t mean I trust you.”

“Please, you have to let us come with,” Zane begged. “If Borg is hiding them, our heightened senses will be useful, possibly even necessary.”

“You expect us to take some strangers with an uncertain past along on an important police mission? Look, kid, we’re a perfectly capable team of officers. And there are some pretty heavy claims being made against you,” she gestured at the cells with the Borg workers, “and we just can’t take that chance right now.”

“But-”

“End of discussion. Grey, take them back to their cell. Woun, go with them, in case Grey gets any funny ideas.”

A female officer walked up beside him and gripped him by the arm.

“Stop! Please, you don’t understand, we need to help!”

Grey looked between him and Morgan with conflicted eyes. “Commissioner, if you would at least consider-” “Be quiet, Grey. They’re not going.”

“Wait! I can prove they’re innocent!”

Everyone whipped around towards the doorway. An officer was standing there, his gaze expressionless.

Beside him, was Jay.

“Jay!” Cole and Zane yelped simultaneously, Cole pulling away from the officer with ease as they both raced towards their friend. Cole reached him first, crying before he was even near him, leaning against him and burying his face in his shoulder. Zane was close behind him, leaning against Jay more carefully, as to avoid his right arm, which was bandaged and pulled into a sling.

“Dude, you’re okay,” Cole sniffed. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again.”

“Jay, Jay we were so worried, they wouldn’t let us see you… how’s your arm doing?” Zane fretted. “Does it hurt? Are they giving you antibiotics? Should you be out of bed?”

“Guys, I’m okay,” Jay laughed, pushing them off gently. “I got lucky. Apparently that guy’s aim was bullcrap, the bullet only grazed me. I’m gonna be fine. I’m sorry they didn’t tell you anything, though. It’s nice to know how much you care.”

“Of course we care,” Cole grunted. “We’re family.”

Jay’s smile faltered. “Speaking of which, we’re still a few members short. It’s long past due we go get the others.”

“We’re trying, but they won’t let us go-”

Jay waved his left hand, stopping him. “It’s fine, Bodden told me everything.”

Cole’s gaze shifted to the officer standing beside Jay. “Bodden?”

“I’m a good friend of Grey’s,” the officer explained. “After he told me about you a couple days ago, I felt similarly to him on the issue. He asked me to bring Jay down here today, and I agreed.”

Morgan scowled. “That’s all well and good, but why is he here, Grey? Patients aren’t supposed to leave the medical wing without permission from me.”

“Because I have something that could change your mind on us,” Jay said, waving a small, black phone in the air.

Cole raised an eyebrow at him. “Your burner? How’s that gonna help?”

“You know when we were eavesdropping on those caretakers, behind Borg Tower?” Jay asked, flipping open the phone. “Apparently, I accidentally was recording the whole thing.”

“What?” Zane choked, leaning over his shoulder to peer at the phone.

“I didn’t even know you could record on those hunks of junk!” Cole cried.

“On most, you can’t. But I got a slightly different model than the rest of you.” He elbowed Zane. “Aren’t you glad you let me get the more expensive one, now?”

Zane closed his eyes, breathing out. “I never thought I would say this, but good heavens, yes. That may have just saved our lives, Jay.”

“It saves everything! I can’t believe you just saved everything on accident, Jay.”

“The fact that it was an accident doesn’t give me less credit in the matter, just so we’re clear-”

Cole laughed, bumping his shoulder against Jay’s. “Once this whole thing is over, you can have all the credit you want.”

“The audio evidence will certainly help your case,” the Commissioner told them, after Jay had played it for her. “But it still doesn’t give us the entire picture.”

“I know,” Jay told her. “But right now, we don’t have time to gather concrete proof. You’re just going to have to trust us.” He held out his hand to the Commissioner, and she stared at it for a moment.

Her face steeling, she grabbed his hand and shook it firmly. “We leave first thing tomorrow.”

[borat123]

Analysis Pro NH Anti NS

Naruto Manga Part 2

Part 8

Naruto is seen returning to the village after his talk with Nagato. Naruto is exhausted and was about to fall over, but Kakashi catches him (let’s all appreciate that the first thing he did after coming back to life was to go look for his student). He pressed his cheeks and wrapped his arms around Kakashi. Also Kakashi is making a reference to when he carried Naruto on his back after their battle on the Valley of the End.

Naruto returns to the village and the first thing he sees is all the villagers cheering for him. He has become a hero and saviour of the village and everyone acknowledges him as a hero. Naruto had achieved his dream of wanting everyone to acknowledge him (There’s a deeper meaning to why he even wants everyone to acknowledge him in the first place and it has to do with his past).

Naruto is very suprised, he is not used to being treated this way by everyone after all. Notice how us as viewers are more happy than Naruto himself (not that he isn’t happy of course) I’ll get more into why when we come to the Dark Naruto part.

*Sakura rant* Why is the first thing Sakura does after Naruto saved her village is to punch him in the fucking head?! Jesus Christ it’s like Kishi WANTS her to be hated. Look at Naruto’s face in the bottom right picture, it’s like he thinks ”What the hell have i done now?!”. Sakura then hugs him because she’s grateful that Naruto saved the village (way to show you’re gratefulness earlier you lousy bitch).*Sakura rant over*

Notice how Hinata smiles here. She doesn’t feel threatened at all by their supposed ”romantic relationship” but she rather sees them as a brother and sister type relationship (like most people). Actually their relationship is almost like Harry and Hermione. Both scolding and caring for each other as good FRIENDS. Also notice how Naruto didn’t hug her back after a physically, mentally and emotionally draining battle while he pressed his cheeks and put his arms tightly around Kakashi. Why is this? Well maybe it’s because they aren’t so close after all.

Naruto doesn’t notice when Sakura is sad over her master’s near verge of death. He knows how it feels like to lose his master but he cant notice her feelings of inadequancy and her sadness? He couldn’t notice when she was depressed over her inferiority complex when drafting for the Chunnin Exams either (to much in his own fantasy world of being acknowledged and beating Sasuke lol) he only noticed when it concerned Sasuke. Imaging only noticing when someones depressed because of another person you’re both obssesed over.

When Hinata was sad he comforted her by saying she saved him more than twice and that she was strong. He also noticed her sadness through her eyes.

Notice how when Tazuna asked if there was a love triangle going on, Naruto happily denied it (confirming that there never really was anything serious going on and also that he didn’t have any ”romantic feelings” at all at this point, since he seemed so carefree about it) Naruto was maturing and just acting like a good friend here and Sakura was thankful for that. (They were honestly acting just fine here so why did Sakura decide to make that fake confession later? She underestimates Naruto).

Naruto now reveals he knows what revenge truly feels like. After his fight with Pain he now understands why Sasuke was so obssesed with revenge. Why is this? Maybe because witnessing Hinata getting stabbed triggered the worst emotions he’d ever felt and he almost transformed into the Nine Tailed Demon Fox because he hated Pain and wanted revenge on him. Tell me how Hinata didn’t contribute to the main story when she was a reason why Naruto could understand Sasuke in the first place.

A topic that must be touched upon now unfortunately is:

Why didn’t Naruto talk to Hinata after the Pain arc? Well in universe, we have to consider that Naruto has never in his life experienced real romantic love before. It’s something that’s completly foreign to him. Sometimes when affection is directed towards yourself, it is hard to realise what it really means. Mentally abused people like Naruto is no exception, someone that never experienced parental love, how are we supposed to expect that he would understand romantic love aswell? Something that is way more complex than that too.

Also let’s be real here considering what i’ve just said how would Naruto be able to recognize what Hinata really meant when he was pinned downed by rods, about to be taken and his greatest enemy being right in front of him in a destroyed Konoha crater. It all probably happend in a blink of an eye and before he knew it he was already transformed into the six-tails. The tension was really high and Naruto was already in emotional turmoil and despair, there were simply too much happening at the same time for him to comprehend it all.

Later everyone acknowledged him as a Hero and suddenly everyone was paying him attention and he became very busy aswell. Pressing matters in the shinobi world were happening immediatly after his return, like Sasuke being ordered to be disposed of. Other responsibilities were being placed on him so in context he really didn’t have time to think about what her confession really meant and what it made him feel, he not only didn’t have any help from others to understand it but other things were happening so quickly too.

Also the reason Kishi didn’t show Naruto thanking Hinata was because Kishimoto felt awkward about writing romance. He’d rather wait till later and make it more indirect than write actual lovey dovey stuff, and i dont blame him completely. Its a fighting manga after all, and not a romance (altough i wouldn’t say he’s bad with romance as he understands the context) He probably didn’t plan to explain when or how they got together at this point in time, he was just gonna do it, as that was what he always wanted since part 1. Had Naruto accepted her feelings right there and then it would have moved away from the main topic of the story, which is saving Sasuke.

His actions later in chapter 559, 615 and 677 makes his answer to her confession an indirect YES. He was already in love with Hinata subconsiously. You might believe that it happend after this arc but it was actually implied in Naruto’s theme song from The Last. ”He now understood the meaning of that warmth” and ”her overflowing kindness”. Judging by this Naruto could have loved her as early as chapter 77 when he told her from the direct translation: ”Thank you, you’re far too kind Hinata!”. It was probably because of her kindness but also the origin of how Hinata fell for Naruto was out of admiration and respect, the same reasons Naruto started feeling something for her too in the Chunnin Exams.

Sai falsely states that Naruto is going this far to save Sasuke because of unrequited feelings for Sakura and because of that promise (that he admits he didn’t know anything about, also when Sai asked Naruto about how he felt about her he said ”how can i? Cant even keep my promises.” Seems to me that he was more depressed over not getting Sasuke back and the only reason he haven’t given up on Sakura completly is because he wants to keep his word because that’s his ninja way. He actually let his ”crush” go after that hospital hug where he saw Sasuke’s tender face and accepted that Sakura loved Sasuke. He realised subconsiously that what he was feeling before was a pointless childish crush.)

Sai accuses Sakura of causing Naruto alot of pain too because of that promise, and that’s true. Promise of a life time more like Burden of a life time. Anyways Sakura cries because of guilt and decides that the only way to make Naruto stop chasing after Sasuke is to falsely confess to him like the narcissistic *nice lady* that she is. Next time i’ll be going over the fake confession. Here’s the other parts if you wanna check them out.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Part 7 Part 9

[cottoncandyjester]

my guy, my dude...what would happen if the yandere oc's got rejected by their darling...would shit go down?? How'd they react??

It's funny cause I think some peeps forget that these ocs would absolutely hurt you to get what they want lol they are such lovable yanderes

Warning this story contains: murder, yandere behavior, kidnapping, self harm, torture, blood

Theodore

"w-what do you mean no... you can't say no my sweet angel" he said softly now staring at you as you stared at him with eyes full of hate. He had you backed into an alleyway, your rejection caused him to lose it a bit so he ended up cornering you whole you two were out on a 'date'

"get away from me you freak!" You shouted trying to push him away, he doesn't understand he confessed that he loved you and you lashed out, why was this happening? He loved you so why weren't you obedient to him..you were supposed to be his submissive little spouse.

"stop it, please..angel I don't like this stop saying such hurtful things" he said softly as he covered your mouth with his hand while the other reached into his pocket. "Stop. Please stop struggling, You're behaving irrationally. You aren't mentally well you need me to take care of you" he whispered as he felt you try to kick him in the groin but he moved his hand from your mouth catching it only to hear you scream.

"SOMEONE H-" theo stabbed your side with a needle watching you wince from it before everything started spin as you started to become limp in his arms. "That's right angel, trust me. I know best"

Hikaru

"the fuck did you say bitch? Did your ugly ass say no?!" He snapped at you. He invited you to his house hoping you would accept his invite to stay the night and drink expensive wine clearly wanting to bring you to bed. He even went to touch you but you pushed his hand from your thigh.

You rejected him and he doesn't do rejection, you were his from the moment he saw you. Hikaru pushed you down on the couch his eyes spiraling with hate as he climbed ontop of you now choking you.

"you should be begging to be mine! Ugly bitches like you don't really have a reason to say no. I'm perfect so you must clearly be touched in the head or some shit, that's fine cause no matter what you're mine" he hissed out with a low snarl as he watched your face grow paler and paler as you clawed his arms trying to stop him but your vision got spotty

"that's right pig, just sleep."

Axis

Tears poured down axis' cheeks as he watched you kindly reject his confession that he poured his heart out just so you know how he feels. He painted you something that he had spent an entire month on and you just said no. Axis dropped the painting feeling his mental state just plummet as you walked towards the door to leave.

"please, don't leave... don't leave me alone.." he whispered out as he felt his entire body shake as his only thoughts were about staying with you. Axis completely broke down, pulling out a knife from his pocket and slitting his own stomach open causing you to turn around and rush to him.

"w-we need to get you to a hospital! You're bleeding so badly! Axis!" Your frantic screaming made him so happy as he leaned against you as blood poured from the fresh wound and he smiled as you huffed him close while calling for help, you're so warm and sweet to him

"if you leave, I'll kill myself y/n and it'll be all your fault" he whispered in your ear now clinging to you getting blood all over you as well as a weak soft laugh escaped him as you felt your blood run Cold.

Salem

You couldn't even reject him, the moment he saw you he had stolen you away. You woke up only to be tied up to a bed as salem watched you sleep. He grinned once you woke and licked his lips

"w-where am I? Please let me go!" You snapped and he tilted his head to the side like a confused child. "Go? Hmm go go go...nope!" He said happily before moving ontop of you and started to undress you but your thrashing around caused him to get annoyed

"don't make me eat you~" he sang out as he leaned down licking your neck, in his eyes you either become his lover or his next meal either way was good in his eyes. "Flesh Soo soft, yummy" he hissed out before biting your shoulder feeling you wince under him before he pulled back licking the fresh blood with a soft giggle.

"all mineeee~"

Prince

"you're kidding right..?"

His tone came off incredibly empty, he invited you on a date and you said no. He's been trying to get with you for months, doing it the right way but you still said no. Prince chuckled as he ran his fingers through his hair, this wasn't right..no no no he could get anyone he wanted so why were you so difficult to obtain.

"yeah, no I can't let ya just leave. So sorry" he said with a sweet smile as he walked towards you while you backed away. His eyes spiralled with insanity it was hard to see this was the same person as before laughing and joking with you

"sorry babe, but this is really gonna hurt but i promise I'll make it better" you felt your back hit a wall before prince punched you in the face making you feel pain before your vision got spotty.

"damn, did I hit you too hard? That's gonna leave a Mark" he mumbled as he shook his hand as you passed out.

Yuki

"oh, yuki. Why are you here?"

"date."

Yuki stood infront of your house eyeing you seeing that you were in pajamas which confused him since he swore you two had a date today. "Yuki, don't you remember..I said we should stay friends. You're great bu-" yuki shuddered at your words. No, that wasn't right you two were already dating and he wad supposed to take you on a date.

at least thats how he remembered it. You were his lover from the moment he saw you, you two started dating as soon as he met you. "No." He said softly as he stared at you blankly watching your face twist with confusion. "What do you mean no?" You stated only for him to step closer to you his hand pressed against the door preventing you from closing the door

"we have a date"he said softly in a tone of frustration as he calmly took off his scarf only to see your eyes panic. "Yuki, I said no" you stated firmly but when he reached for you, you of course tried to turn to run but he wrapped the scarf around your throat pulling both ends to choke you

"shh, just rest..kay?" He whispers out though as he loosened his grip he could only feel annoyance, why does this keep happening? Why can't you ever remember your dates with him? Oh well. He'll just have to use that drug to block your memories and try again..this time you'll say yes.

Rocket

"you're a great guys, but do you understand now...I see you as a friend" you said and rocket forced a grin before pulling you into a hug. You were so glad he understood and hugged him back only to feel him start to squeeze you, his large arms locked around you as you wheezed tapping his shoulder telling him to stop.

"y'know, snapping someone's spine is really easy I heard! I haven't tried but it must be easy yeah? So..how about that date?" He spoke in your ear with a cheerful tone.

"o...kay... please. " You wheezed out and he let go now scooping you up into his arms before he took off his bandana off using it to gag you.

"awesome!"

Scarlett

"I'm glad you understand so well scarlett, we are much better as friends" you said as the girl placed tea infront of you with a smile. She invited you to her place for tea after you rejected her confession. "Of course dear, some people aren't suited for each other" she said softly as she slipped her tea watching you do the same.

"and some people make mistakes, as humans we can get so confused we aren't sure what we desire" she stated calmly as she watched the homemade drugs she put in the tea work, you were sweating bullets and panting softly.

"oh sweetie, you dont look too well." She said with a smile as you laid back on the couch closing your eyes feeling everything spinning.

"I'll nurse you back to health my darling"

Yuuta & yuuji

Yuuta hummed as he buckled the gag around your mouth before pressing a button in the center of the ball gag hearing it beep. "Careful, if you try to release your teeth from that Ball it could explode would hate for you to lose your jaw" the older twin said before he kissing your temple as yuuji ran his fingers through your hair hugging you from behind.

"it's just until we can trust you my sweetheart. I mean you said no to our date, how cruel. So we just had to swipe you away and take you home"

You struggled lightly against the ropes as you sat in the chair but it was impossible. The two moved infront of you both of them holding hands as they stared at you.

"be our pet.." yuuji started with a smile

"...or die painfully" yuuta ended with an annoyed huff.

Rin

"I don't understand why you're crying, clowns are supposed to be funny." The male said as he placed the crown he made on your head, the intestines dripping blood on your face as you stared at your family that laid on the ground cut open.

Rin hummed softly unsure what it will take to make you smile until he took out a real heart before squeezing it so hard it squirted blood everywhere. "Y/n you make my heart burst with love!" He cheers out before hearing only your crying and screams which caused him to pout.

"yeah that was a bad joke, it's not even my heart. Hmm let's see, oh! I know!" He cheers now reaching into the body and grunting at he took out the stomach and showed it to you "I can't stomach being without you!" He cheers out laughing at his own joke.

Your screaming and sobbing was getting old now, the male sighs as he crawled towards you nuzzling his face against your stomach. "baby, im trying my best here. You have to work with me I mean you don't seem to be enjoying my show...tell me y/n what do you wish for me to do to make it better?"

"l-let me-"

Rin covered your mouth with his hand, the blood smell was making you dizzy and you started to cry more. "I can't do that my little star. You know I can't so stop asking" he hissed out before he pulled back and gasped with joy

"oh I know!" He said as he rushed off rolling a large ball covered in human skin before he hopped on balancing on one foot holding his arms out as the ball rolled. "Huh? Impressive right?" He cheers out only to sigh

"you're not being any fun y/n, you need to stop sobbing. It really was cute the first time but now it's annoying."

[fishylife]

Street Dance of China S4 Ep 3

(I’m having problems with Tumblr not saving my posts...)

- Oh no people are going to start getting eliminated! :o Well, I’m still really glad that we had two whole episodes of people just dancing and having fun and getting the opportunity to showcase who they are and how they dance.

- This question just occurred to me, but where do people look when they watch dance performances? As I watched the Go Go Brothers, I was thinking to myself, “Where do I look? If I look at one of them, I might miss what the other Brother is doing!” Just my musings lol.

- I am super shallow but people tripping makes me laugh, so yes, Nelson accidentally tripping did make me chuckle. (+ Rochka’s reaction)

- Yibo and Yixing discussing the SDOC theme song. It made me laugh because the lyrics are kind of hype but Yibo and Yixing aren’t exactly the most facially expressive people lol.

- After every performance Henry’d be like “let’s collaborate!!!!!!” Han Geng finally stepped in being like aight Henry you gotta take it easy on the recruitment because we’ve literally only seen three performances. I’m still not really sure of the format of the show from now on, so I’m not sure if they form new teams afterwards.

- Yixing was so guilty about not giving Bouboo a vote.

- Rochka’s shock @ Boubou not getting four votes.

- He’s ashamed.

- I think if a dancer gets less than 4 votes, then other dancers are allowed to challenge them for a spot to advance, but whoever loses is eliminated out of the tournament, so you have to be super confident to challenge. And if a dancer only gets 1 or 2 votes, they are eliminated.

- Yibo asked Rochka why he wouldn’t challenge Bouboo and Rochka said he’d never go against his teacher/big brother v.v They exchanged hearts but then Rochka pretended to throw the heart away and crush it lol.

- While I was expecting a bit more from Bouboo, I don’t think his challenger JC Jun was better than him. JC Jun was kind of wobbly, and I think his dance didn’t match the music as well as Bouboo’s did.

- Yixing had his head down when he voted for Ibuki too, so I think he just gets nervous about voting.

- Henry wanted to say that Ibuki was like lightning but he said the word for a flashing light/disco light and Han Geng wanted to give him shit for it.

- Yixing said that he thought AC’s waacking almost felt like krump.Yixing said that if he was to collaborate with AC, AC should do the arm swing, and Yixing would do the waacking lol. I am all for seeing Yixing doing more dance styles! Not gonna lie, I think he’d look cute doing waacking.

- Ye Yin’s performance was really nice! The music was unique and the way he danced, with the tap dance and folk-like elements really suited it.

- Rochka said he wants to know Ye Yin more and said they also have the same smile.

- Xiao Jie said he’d never battle Ye Yin but he got peer pressured by the captains into freestyling to Ye Yin’s self-produced song lol.

- To show face, you know? The entire time he was like “but this doesn’t count, okay?!!!!” since he wasn’t actually challenging Ye Yin, and it was just for funsies.

- The judges were a bit troubled by Xiaoming’s performance because at the end, he was supposed to fall but his fall wasn’t coordinated with the sound effect in the music. Xiaoming was like yeah, it’s pretty difficult but I’m hoping that my challenger wouldn’t be able to get it too and Yixing was laughing his goose laugh. But Xiaoming was eliminated with zero votes in the end.

- Kelo and Uwa had a horror mental hospital-themed dance which was interesting. Kelo said it was based on a nightmare he had as a child.

- Yang Kai wasn’t impressed though. He said he’d performed something similar with Liangliang before. He felt that Kelo and Uwa were performing but not really dancing. I can see where he’s coming from. Kelo and Uwa got three votes.

- Xiaohai ended up challenging them. He used the wheelchair too but like...somehow his expression just makes us unable to not laugh.

- I think he did really well considering he’d only heard the music once. And he returned to the wheelchair at the end of the performance lmfao

- Apparently when Xiaohai was looking up at the beginning, he was asking Li Yulong (who I assume is the person in charge of the music) for music cues but Li Yulong just laughed at him lol.

- Yibo basically said that Kelo and Uwa’s performance felt a bit abrupt in the story telling side, and that there weren’t really highs and lows to their performance.

- Rochka was talking crap about Bouboo behind his back and Yibo tattled which resulted in Rochka getting whacked in the face.

- Zyko taught Yibo and Rochka how to do his fancy leg moves.

- Yixing talking krump with Auju. Auju was like you’re really good for someone who’s only been learning for a year, but then Yixing was like, I practise 6 hours a day and Auju was like ?!?!

- Zyko + Henry (with Henry’s infamous “getting down while playing violin” move)

- Poppin’C introduced himself, saying he was from Italy and Switzerland, and Yibo and Yixing were thinking of all the things from Italy they knew. Yibo was like “...Valentino Rossi...” and Yixing was like “....pizza.....” These two spacey twinks istg.

- Anyway, Poppin’C’s performance was nice. Not only were his moves clean and impressive, but he also expressed the lyrics through his dance.

- Rochka fanboying over Poppin’C’s dance :P At one point, the lyrics were about hearts, and Poppin’C did some moves where he made a heart and Rochka here is saying how cute it was.

- Poppin’C said he missed his daughter and everybody’s like ?? a baby??? :3 :3 :3

- Also, I saw Uwa in the audience, so I think that the eliminated contestants get to continue watching.

- Poppin’C said that before, he was more fierce, but now that he has a daughter, he’s a little smoother and sweeter :3 Also he was describing that the singer’s voice in the song made his skin feel like chicken and everybody was like ??? Luckily Yixing saved the day lol. In Chinese, goose bumps are called “chicken pimples” or something like that.

- Bozi was next. In his introduction, Bozi said he was from Guangzhou, and maybe that’s why it sounded like so many people in the audience were pronouncing 波子 in Cantonese.

- Eleven said something very interesting about B-boys. He said that in their profession of dance, they don’t fear b-boys who can do tricks, but they fear b-boys who can listen to music. I think it’s a reference to the fact that b-boys are often doing their own thing and disregard the music, which makes sense. Sometimes b-boys are closer to gymnasts because they are so focused on the spins and other really athletic moves they do. But because their moves are so difficult, they sometimes don’t move to the music which is supposed to be the point of dancing.

- Bozi passed with 4 votes. And he did a bit of krump at the beginning, which Yixing admitted he fell for haha. Bozi said that Eleven helped him choreograph that part, so it’s Eleven who knows Yixing well >3

- The director asked Bozi who he thought his biggest b-boy rival on the show was. Of course, we all thought he was going to say Lil Kev, but he ended up saying Xiaoji and Xiaoji was like ?? me?? Bozi’s reasoning was that he’s more troubled by dancers with a different style from him because he doesn’t know how to beat them. From the small clips they showed, I think Xiaoji has a more animated style, whereas Bozi is more serious and reserved.

- Acky-san cheering on MT Pop lol. (”Embarrassing dad at baseball game” mode activate)

- MT Pop has really impressed me in the competition so far though. The way he moves is so cool and creative. I think he purposely goes for a kind of...monster vibe? Like he often has this creepy smile on his face lol. He’s not only dancing, but he’s using popping techniques to change how he moves entirely, including simple things like walking or how he turns his head. I think MT Pop is my favourite contestant.

- He said the monster from Pan’s Labrynth inspired this dance. So I guess I was kind of right that he does draw inspiration from monsters and other creatures.

- Low key mad at Han Geng for not giving MT Pop his vote lol. Geng-ge said he wanted to give someone a chance to challenge. Of all people, why MT Pop?? I don’t want him to goooo.

- Henry wanted to try doing the voiceover for the challenger and Han Geng indulged his overdramatic ass.

- Baby Dolphin challenged. He had some cool moves at the beginning, but I think he fell apart a bit towards the end, based on the judges’ reactions (as we didn’t see the full performance). Plus, I think MT Pop’s approach to dancing is just too unique and interesting to eliminate at this point.

- Kabamba had an interesting performance that had African and Latin influences, with big and energetic movements. Tianci challenged but he went with a general hip hop approach which did not suit the music at all. (I looked up Kabamba. Her name is Latrice Kabamba, but she also goes by 林珊娜 on her social media, which is why she’s sometimes called Nana on the show).

- Acky-san was repeating everything that people were saying around him. Stuff like jiayou!! and other words of encouragement. Dianmen who was sitting next to him was just lol’ing.

- Ma Xiaolong was performing to a song called 棋 and this word usually refers to any kind of board game. Ma Xiaolong’s first moves looked like he was putting pieces on a board and you just know that kind of stuff draws Yixing’s attention right away.

- I think Kenken’s style of dance is the kind of dance that the general public would really enjoy. Whereas some kinds of dance don’t really appeal to people who aren’t into dance, I think Kenken’s kind of dance will attract both the dance-conscious people as well as those who aren’t. I definitely got that vibe from him in the dance that he choreographed, and also his individual performance.

- Not even gonna question this. Perfection. Rochka catboy here we go.

- Okay, I agree with Colin’s performance not making the cut. Based on his introduction, he was supposed to be a popping expert, but his dance didn’t showcase that. His dance was more of a contemporary dance piece, but while we’ve had performances similar to that, his choreography didn’t stand out in comparison. After his performance he had a bit of a cry. Yixing mentioned that it was hard to judge because of the emotional aspect. But admittedly, this emotional stuff is usually the reason why I don’t like competition shows. It was revealed that Colin had lost his grandfather. Now, I’m going to sound cold, but I don’t like it when sob stories are brought in, because it makes us feel bad when we don’t like a piece of art that comes from very pure intentions. Yixing’s reasoning for not giving a vote was that he felt that the emotions overshadowed the dance, which is a problem because this is a show about dance. Han Geng’s reasoning was that he felt that the skill level could have been better. Yibo was quite moved by the performance, and I think that’s why he gave his vote to Colin.

- We got a preview for this week’s hotpot show.

- Yixing and his emotional support giant cup

- Lots of laughing (including Yixing laughing) which is good for the soul

[imaginaryhuman]

Insecurities, Fortitude and the Unfortunate Phenomenon of Gatekeeping

Note:

1. I'm trying to not be afraid of my own opinions (this will probably get a different word wall)

2. This isn't a hot take or a "permanent opinion". It's just...current. I think opinions fit a dynamic mold. Or I think it should since circumstances change and experiences can change thought processes.

3. My initial draft for this was a lot more aggressive and angry. When I started writing, I thought I would only tackle the one thing I was very familiar with (insecurities), then I read an article that miffed me a bit because of the gatekeeping vibes, and for a while, I was angry about it but then I realized how common it was. I've heard it from my brothers, I've experienced it with fandoms, with books, with cooking, and with running. There's even a subreddit for it! 👀

It's not like I'd wake up one day and it will be gone. Still, it does push me a few steps back when it comes to conquering slight misanthropy. But it matters to me to say this cause I grew up seeing myself as some last draw.

_____________________________________________________________

"I feel most responsible for myself when I'm insecure" I've wanted to expound on this for a while so here goes:

I've grown to have an intimate (and rather painful) relationship with insecurities. I was a sickly child so I would be in and out of hospitals so frequently that establishing young friendships didn't come easy. Some kids didn't take kindly to impermanence too and it's not anyone's fault. It just happened to be that way. Growing up, I came to realize that I wasn't exactly great at anything. Had I not been exposed to extraordinary minds, maybe I would have come to terms with it much kindly except I wasn't. I always thought that people around me were brilliant, smart, and talented (until now). To the point where I felt the need to alienate myself from it all so I could remain in the forefront of my own mind.

Comparisons come naturally but having them weigh on you is a different ball game altogether. Learning ways out of it is always challenging because insecurities aren't just a singular form of monster-- Sometimes it's about the future, sometimes it's body image, sometimes it's the gripping idea of not being enough for anything you love and it's all so cursed and horrible.

There was that time when more things were piled up on the mental shelving. I was talking shit about someone. Sure, people do it all the time but I think that time I was... viciously and purposelessly nitpicking. Everything I could say about that person, I said it. Totally not proud of that moment and a friend thought so too! First, they told me to shut the fuck up. Just like that, really. Next is they pointed it out. As in told me "V, you have a problem and it's really fine being a total hater but you're not usually like this with other things you dislike. What's wrong?" and then we EXPLORED. Doing this can be so cringe a lot of times but hey, we face the music in this club! I was happy to not be thinking about it alone and the experience made me learn a new way of confronting things and issues that make me feel insecure.

We talked about the whats, whys, and hows of being one hell of a hater and how even if certain reasons are justified. Like, okay, someone did something bad to you and you hate them for it? That's totally valid. Do you find certain traits a bit off your tastes? that's valid too! But even if they are valid feelings, most of the time it's not enough to justify certain actions. The thing is, we don't really have the right to be so up in someone's business about every little thing they do. It's frustrating and I feel like a hypocrite saying this sometimes because I have the obsessive compulsion to keep everyone at arm's length but I feel like there's a parameter where peoples' businesses either become something welcome or becomes a blip on a radar that I'd aggressively shoot down. Although I know that my radar can get too wide and that I need some willpower to hold back snark and suspicion. What can I say, I'm weak to any notions of ill-intent (a byproduct of assault).

But fortitude would sometimes come from borrowed words:

"Don't deny yourself what you think but don't do yourself a disservice by not figuring out what it really is about"

I was told then. To be truthful but exercise tact (I'm neither tactful, clever nor silent hence the trouble that follows) and to be mindful of the undercurrents of my thoughts. I think it's important to take a step back and at least ask yourself the most honest and genuine whys.

Insecurity has a bad rep and is too often used derogatorily for something so common and rather natural. But I feel that ultimately, insecurity stems from an understanding of what you don't have and the frustration of having aspirations. Having aspirations being a good thing but the frustration makes us people act up in so many different ways. For me, insecurities have primarily manifested themselves through the urge to just hide everything that makes me happy because I couldn't (and it's still hard to) stand digs at the things I do to keep me sane. Plus I've always thought them (happy things) few and temporary so that's that. Younger me was weird about it omg.

The rule in this house now though is to express what makes me happy and I think I've saved up a bit of grit to not allow myself to be gatekept (by others and by myself**) from those happy things! I love a lot of things (baking, running, reading, pets, anime & manga, drawing...) and the gatekeeping going on with all those? Surprisingly plenty! A totally different word block (that I won't write because I think this has to be put to rest here), really, and also a total nightmare. But how it applies in the realm of insecurities is... Oh, boi. Ignore it-- it's just bad news as it is strong fuel to a fire you don't want to keep going. If you love doing what you do and you're not hurting anyone then just keep going. I know for a fact that the things I love doing are loved by many others too because running? Creating things? Reading? These are things worth loving without it having to be a competitive chore (If you wanna challenge goals though then hey! Good on you! YOU CAN DO IT!)

Draw your lines, plan your layering in a way that fits your style. Use the tools that work for you. Put on your shoes and get going. I'm only particular with speed because I want to get better (and lol I am not fast) but just being out there and moving? That's already running. Fail some recipes or nail em, whatever happens, just try. Fangirl over what you wanna fangirl about! Post it on your IG and all your other socials. A rather horrifying realization is that no matter what you do, someone's gonna take a dunk at ya. Worse, you can be intentionally approached and engaged for that purpose primarily. It's okay (not really but... if it happens, it happens ). Even if you're used to it, it will still get to you but maybe less and less through time. When the voice of apprehension guides you to retaliate in the most painful way you know, just keep the fear at bay and be strong to not let that urge take over your words and actions. Be frustrated! It's fine! And I really don't support self-harm so please don't misunderstand when I say that when it comes to fear and insecurity, there's a lot you have to take on yourself so you don't hurt others. A lot to unpack between you and your brain. There are people who can love you without patronizing you and those you can trust to reign you in when you lose better judgment. Be honest and let them in.

Have that conversation.

//

Extras:

- AH! But I got to say this cause I also saw a post that said "if you haven't ran 50 to 100 miles, you don't know what a hard run is" wow. Fuck that guy. Actually, don't. He's probably not a fun date.

- this: "you can be intentionally approached and engaged for that purpose primarily" is from experience. An extra worse thing is to be vilified for retaliating. Like...was I just supposed to sit there and take it?

- I used to not like motivational quotes! I mean, I'm alright with them now for sure! We were talking about them and I was asked "What's wrong with properly credited borrowed words? You use them all the time since you like referencing songs." and it was like a tunnel of light appeared before me! Sorry for those whose post I've frowned at! I had an angst phase! I am very genuinely sorry 🙏🏻

[hpfannons]

Oh la la! Thats a fine choice of specimen. Thank you. :) lol. I only ask about the jealousy thing because I remember that Dick said one time that they only get to see him 2 months a year or something... I probably meant the batfam side i guess... lol but its good most Harry’s friend are okay or just roll with it... maybe I should asked some batfam moments during their stay in order hq... I really love that scene where Harry was on Dick’s lap and and the rest are just with them... I kinda want a scene with the same feeling...if you dont mind. xD thank you very much! glad to hear ur answer about fudge and umbridge. thank you so much... im really immersed in this au... looking forward to part 7. >_< thanks and stay safe y’all.

Glad you like my batfam! My best friend and I spent way too long going back and forth on people we could agree on for different characters (I think Tim and Alfred were the hardest… but it was years ago, so don’t quote me on that lol)

Sorry about the jealousy thing though, miscommunication on my part. I blame that for answering at 3 am on my phone XD

Yes, there is a lot of buried jealousy with the Batfam. Though surprisingly, most of it comes from Harry. That’s mostly because all these new family members come in while he’s at school, so it kind of feels like they’re all much more close knit with each other than with him because he’s not there for the large portion of the year.

They’re all happy to include him and catch him up with things he missed while he was at school… But there are some things you just have to be there in the moment for, because retelling the story just isn’t quite the same.

That’s not to say that the rest of the Batfam don’t have the same feelings as well, I think I’ve mentioned before that Tim and Harry especially are very close (actually best friends, on the same level as Harry and Ron) so Tim is definitely one of those people who feels Harry’s lost during the year the most.

Add on the fact it’s not really that easy to keep in touch with him while he’s at school, and it really is just hard on everyone.

As a side note, I fully believe the family would find some kind of way to make alterations to a communicator that will work at Hogwarts. Considering how many people who both use magic and have been involved with the Justice League in some way or the other, I find it hard to believe they haven’t found a work around for the whole magic screws with tech problem. At the very least, Harry would have a way to check his email from family, b/c making Headwig carry letters from Scotland to New Jersey and back is just cruel.

As far as the Batfam hanging out around 12 Grimmauld Place… They’re trying to be as non-confrontational as possible, even if there’s still some ruffled feathers from the first night. So the boys mostly go along with helping clean out the place under Molly’s orders - Jason was originally kind of prickly about it because he’s not a child (certainly not her child), so he found getting ordered around kind of insulting… Until his inner clean freak won out and yeah, this place does need a lot of work. Alfred has taught them all well, and it shows.

Tim mostly hauls himself up in the library when he can get away from clearing out pixies and de-gnoming the garden. He’s got like four notebooks full of information and Ron is a little shocked to find out Harry wasn’t kidding when he said Tim was worse than Percy and Hermione together when it came to information gathering.

Damian has less than stellar people skills at the best of times, and here he’s decided he doesn’t care very much for anybody over the age of seventeen (that’s not family anyway), so most of Dick’s time has been dedicated to keeping the youngest away from most of the Order. Not that he really blames him, Dick isn’t nearly as vocal about it as Damian, but he is also just completely done with all of them. He’s only playing nice because they’re here for Harry.

Bruce has also posted himself up in the library, reading everything he can get ahold of in regards to the history of the wizarding world trying to understand exactly what he’s son has gotten wrapped up in. Because lord knows nobody in this house is going to explain it to him… At this point he’s about one wrong comment away from telling them exactly where they can shove their ‘muggle’ excuses.

There was one notable evening though, when the boys as well as the Weasleys and Hermione were just hanging out in a parlor or sitting room or whatever it was supposed to be. Jason had been messing around with an old radio he found the other day and between him and Tim, they managed to get it working. The minute they recognized Britney Spears’s voice, there were four sets of eyes immediately on Dick who gave all of twenty seconds of resistance before he was up and dragging people along to dance with him. The impromptu party had ended up going on for hours, Tonks getting roped into the fun with them while Sirius and Remus smiled fondly from the doorway. Molly made a passing comment about bedtime, but didn’t argue back when that was quickly shot down by the other adults. Let the kids be kids while they could.

As far as soft moment’s for the Batfam… there are two that really come to mind, though they’re kind of sad though.

The first is really kind of short, but it’s after the battle of Hogwarts, and Harry’s come back from his final fight with Voldemort, and there’s just people everywhere in the great hall, but Harry knows exactly where he’s going. Bruce is standing to the side, watching while Jason’s getting patched up, and trying to keep an eye on his other kids as well. Everyone's a little banged up and bruised, but they’re all alive, and that’s the important part right now.

And then he sees Harry and there’s this almost tangible sense of relief because now all of his kids are present and accounted for, and Bruce feels like he can finally breathe again. And Harry just like collapses into Bruce who has to scramble a little bit to catch him, but then just stands there and holds him, because Harry is just completely exhausted mentally, physically, and emotionally. And all Bruce hears is “I want to go home Dad.”, and honest to god Batman almost starts crying in the middle of the great hall in front of everyone.

The other is after the Triwizard Tournament, and everything with Mad-Eye Crouch, when Harry’s in the hospital wing. Everyone’s standing around trying to figure out what the hell just happened, and Harry wakes up still kind of groggy from whatever Madam Pomfrey gave him to knock him out, and he ends up breaking down crying in front of everyone.

Dick doesn’t even hesitate, he’s on Harry before the first tear even really starts rolling and just tucks him into the crook of his neck and let’s him cry it out. Except Harry’s been traumatized and he’s like full-on sobbing, almost wailing, and that just stabs everyone straight through the heart. Tim’s next, doesn’t say anything, just sits down behind Harry and tucks himself up against his brother’s back. Damian and Jason join in as well, Damian sitting on Harry’s other side and just quietly putting his head on Harry’s shoulder; while Jason sit’s down a little farther away, reaching out to put a hand on the back of Harry’s neck. Bruce is standing on the other side of the bed, and just runs a hand through Harry’s hair while they let him get it out and calm down.

And once he’s down to hiccups and kind of stuttery breaths, Dumbledore says something about leaving him be, and if looks could kill… Jason’s still armed, and he almost, almost goes for the gun. Bruce head’s it off at the pass though, saying he’ll go with them to discuss things further and also inform the league about what’s happened, but the rest of the boys will be staying.

Madam Pomfry insists on dosing Harry again, and after some reassurances that his brother’s aren't going anywhere, they get him to drink the potion. That’s as far as they indulge the mediwitch though. Tim and Damian both try to settle down in the bed on either side of their brother, though after some jostling around and being unable to really fit two teenagers and a ten year old comfortably in a hospital cot; Dick and Jason move another bed over flush against Harry’s and Dick manages to coax Damian into it with him, as long as the younger is able to keep hold of Harry’s arm. Jason retakes the seat he’d pulled up to the bedside, kick’s his feet up on the cot and settles in to keep watch over the lot of them for the night. And that is exactly where and how Bruce finds them the next morning.

[literaphobe]

Im so sorry...is your sister a minor

yeah she’s 17. i really don’t blame her it just sucks. anyway i think i needed to work through this but its also way too long so 

lol like that was supposed to be my birthday gift but it has now become a romantic getaway for a man and his gf (who is 18 years younger than him) and my sister and one of her friends. at like. one of the most expensive hotels in the country. the same man who guilted me into giving private tutoring to 8 students at a time while i was a student because he apparently is super poor and has no money and no job. (i started tutoring for extra money and to just. have a job. because he has also given me shit about that before too. if i don’t have a job i’m like a useless baby child who he can never trust to be responsible for her own life. turns out that was just a load of bullshit to trap me. and yeah i was teaching 8-9 students at some point and i think i was like telling him hey i don’t know if this is a good idea. its a little crazy. and he was like no u should keep doing it. its money u should just earn it. we aren’t doing great financially and at some point we might need ur help paying for ur sister’s tutoring classes. and so i did and it hurt me SO much last semester. + covid but also. it was tutoring mostly lmao) 

anyway i just. the thought of everything made me cry a lot in the shower lol. like that. quiet cry where u are sobbing uncontrollably but u have to mute it as much as possible so that ur mother who’s washing dishes in the kitchen doesn’t hear it

today we had some ikea furniture delivered. and i was assembling it. and my mom told me “when we were married i was always the one putting together the IKEA furniture. ur dad would always get frustrated and give up” and then in the shower i realized that’s exactly how my dad treats me lmao. i am.... his ikea furniture

so like. i can actually trace the most recent incident of abuse i faced from him back to when. i allowed him to “help” me with my university degree transfer issues. u know. because i couldn’t do the coding degree he pressured me into doing. and wanted to do something else (i could’ve gone to my uni open house w my friends. who ended up entering the arts faculty. and i WANTED to do psychology in the arts faculty too. but my dad and his gf were there. and they just. told me if i did that i would have no future and no job prospects when i graduated. which is SO fucking funny because both of them individually. their grades were super fucking shit and they were never good enough to get into the school that i did. so they had no fucking business telling me what i should or shouldn’t do. but i didn’t know that because they lied to me. my dad lied to me about so many things to scare me into thinking i couldn’t do anything. and at this point in my life. they were still monitoring my internet usage. and there were restrictions set on my phone. mere. months. before i was meant to be a university student. even getting restrictions off my phone was a big fight i had to have. i bought my own laptop with money i made from this f&b job because i knew if i waited for them to get one for me i would be waiting forever. and i was just so fucking scared of them so i got a. ‘practical’ degree. and then slid off my adhd meds because even that felt like part of the trap they kept me in for years) 

i decided i wanted to do linguistics and become a linguistics major but my school wasn’t letting me. and it had been a year. so i let him and my mom get involved. which i had SUCH a bad feeling about. an awful awful bad feeling. i was right lmao. i should’ve known his involvement wouldn’t have done shit and would also. set me up for yet another Major Traumatic Incident. which i have spent the entirety of 2020 trying to avoid. do you know how stressful and tiring it feels to just like. every moment around ur own father is u just trying to walk on eggshells praying and hoping that nothing bad will happen. i tried so hard and it fell apart in the end anyway. he couldn’t fix this problem so he took it out on me

my school essentially texted us back saying “we get a shit load of transfer requests every year, even from students from other schools. ur grades from the classes u took aren’t good enough to justify a transfer” and like they were right. i had been off my meds. various things in life had happened. my commute situation wasn’t helping matters either (to and from was 2 hours each) and it has just. not been great. grandad passed away like 2 weeks ago or something at that point. which. may have been an underlying cause for the situation. or maybe he was always going to blow up at me and get violent and crazy. idk

anyway. i guess u could say it is ‘my fault’ for cutting off contact w my father n not speaking to him. but also. he threatened to throw me into a mental institute. and also. violently refused to let me leave the house so he could keep yelling at me. he physically would not let me. i yelled at him to just let me go but he implied that he would actually hurt me if i tried to get past him again. and he said all sorts of shit like he can be crazy too and he can be crazier than me which is something he’s said before. what triggered me to leave was. ok so in the beginning he was giving me the same thing he has yelled at me about over the years. i am super super fucking smart but i waste it all away on purpose and refuse to get my shit together and that’s somehow a personal attack on him. i can’t remember most of it by now. but anyway. i was tearing up and keeping absolutely quiet just waiting for it to be over so i could leave and go to another room. but then he started to. yell at me for crying. its so fucking ironic and weird because in a separate previous incident i was complaining about my school and how much it all was. and i was barely raising my voice but he was like woah woah stop being so emotional!!! as if he doesn’t regularly scream and shout and punch walls or whatever the fuck over the SMALLEST bullshit. anyway. he started to scold me for crying. and then he said ‘if you go out in the future and get a job are you going to cry like this too when ur boss scolds you? or are you acting like this because i’m family and you think its okay?’ as if. i have never had a job. as if i have never had to deal with a boss. bro i swear to fucking god. i am dead to most things now because of him. he can’t do shit. but. in the moment i found this so ridiculous and just SO fucking stupid that i left. i had had enough. i started laughing and i walked out and went to grab my bag so i could go. i didn’t. get very far obviously. and when my dad started threatening me i genuinely thought i was going to die. he was so angry and deranged that i thought he was going to murder me. my heart was going just. so so so fast. even tho i was just standing there. and i told him he was terrifying me (to which he said “GOOD”) and i just NEEDED to get out of this situation and get some space (to which he said “NO” repeatedly). he refused to admit that he would use actual violence to prevent me from leaving the house. he told me he would NEVER let me leave. which was fucking ridiculous. i stay at his house. 2 days out of the fucking week. he literally shoved me backwards so hard when i was trying to leave and he wanted to stop me. he also refused to admit that he used violence or was planning to use violence. i tried to point out this flaw in his logic to him. i said ur going to hurt me. he said no. i said ok then if ur not going to hurt me then let me walk past you and leave the house. he also said no again. and then our cousins rang the door at some point. so then he started to come to his senses. he was like. ‘the reason i don’t want to let you leave is because i’m afraid you’ll hurt yourself.’ which was so fucking stupid. i have NEVER threatened to hurt myself in front of him. i have never shared ANY thoughts of self harm in front of him. he’s the one who would get into massive fights w his dad and threaten to jump out of the window in anger (and i don’t even mean when he was younger. he would fight with his 93 year old dad. fucking stupid bitch). i made this clear to him that i was never ever planning on hurting myself. and then he said fine and let me leave. meaning i had to answer the door to my cousins in tears while he got to walk back to his room and lock himself in

he also. at some point during this argument, told me there would be consequences to me leaving. i guess i know those consequences now lmao. and like. i went home to my moms house. my cousins walked me there. i still haven’t told them. idk if my dad told them. my dad texted me to gaslight me. said that when he said he was going to put me in a mental hospital he meant it as a friendly suggestion because of ‘the state i was in’. and that it ‘wasn’t meant as a threat’ and like. oof. healthy suggestions aren’t meant to be yelled. anyway. i might be texting him. just to inform him about developments and to like. i guess set boundaries maybe. idk. i can’t carry on like this. i hate him and am terrified of him but. cutting him out of my life is basically inviting ostracism from his side of the family. and it’s putting so much stress on me. so. lol

[tulakhord]

here we go for real. this is for @friedeggpajamas who asked for notes on quarter-life closure. i’m an idiot who hit enter and published the ask too soon, but here it is.

When Jack wakes up in the hospital bed, cotton-mouthed and sore, it takes him a moment to realize that the man slumped in the visitor’s chair is the wrong shade of blond. This is 100% a mirror to afterthoughts, but I did start this one first. It took me longer to finish because inhabiting the headspace to write it was low-key depressing because this Jack’s headspace is awful. But of course, that was the point. It was a take on pre-canon Jack I had not seen explored, and I wanted to tease it out.

He blinks through crusty eyes and croaks, “D’eau?” He would expect to be in Quebec, I think. 

The man perks up, his own eyes watery. “Oh, Jack! You’re awake, thank god—” and grabs for a water bottle.

Jack accepts it awkwardly, takes sips while the man continues to speak. The words wash over him, his head not quite cooperating. He’s confused— the last thing he remembers—

The last thing he remembers—

“Who are you?” he interrupts, piecing the words together. “Where, why am I in the hospital?”

The man subsides, eyes blowing wide. “I— Jack, you took a hit. You’re in the hospital. Honey—” I do feel bad for Bitty here, he is as ill-served in this story as Kent in the other one. Perhaps worse, since Kent has been through this before, and Bitty hasn’t. This is a side of Jack that Bitty has never been confronted with.

“I don’t,” Jack scrabbles at his arm, jolting on the IV drip. “I don’t remember that. The draft, what happened with the draft?” You can see I did even less work here than I did in afterthoughts to handle the medical or career effects of the amnesia. I had zero interest in writing that part of it again lol. Also it was surplus to requirements for what I wanted to focus on. ---

It turns out that Jack's missed the draft. He’s also missing the past eight years of his life. The latter should probably be sending his anxiety into overdrive. Instead, it feels too fake to worry about.

He’s not sure what it says about his future that he didn’t expect to have a future. He’s not sure what it says about him that it’s laughable that this is supposed to be his life. There are a few things I wanted this fic to poke at. The first was Jack: I wanted to reframe Jack. I wanted to see if I could create a plausible version of pre-canon Jack that would feel consistent with both his actions pre-canon and his actions in canon. He’s playing for a team that didn’t exist when he got drafted. Or didn’t get drafted. He didn’t get drafted. He fucked around and went to college and played NCAA of all things, like that makes a single iota of sense. He took some of his best playing years and flushed them down the drain. Much has been made of Jack’s choice to go to the NCAA making zero sense if he wanted to pursue a NHL career, but that’s less interesting to me than: what if Kent’s comments on Samwell were based on a solid understanding of pre-canon Jack and his thought processes? 

And he’s engaged. To a man.

It’s a twisted cosmic joke. This is the internalized homophobia rearing its head, as it will continue to, especially with regards to Bitty.

---

At the end of the day, it’s simple. Kent is in Las Vegas.

So Jack goes to Las Vegas.

He doesn’t have the address, and he doesn’t know who to ask for it. His phone is hard enough to figure out, and the contact list is an endless scroll of names he doesn’t recognize. The names he expects to see aren’t there. He doesn’t even have Kent’s number in his phone. Who’s he going to ask? His fiance? His parents? This pre-canon Jack and his parents have a poor relationship with each other: they are emotionally distant, and he does not trust them. IRL I’ve had a front row seat to watch several people live out parts of Jack’s story in real life: rich teen with absent parents and easy access to drugs, stints in rehab, unhandled mental illness and high-achieving potential in conflict, emotional volatility, closeted in a homophobic environment, no support system, etc. I’m not sure whether it comes through in the story, but I have a great deal of affection for this Jack. I was also a very angry teen.

His parents have always been wary of Kent. Of who Jack is when he’s around Kent. Seems like they were being honest about not minding the gay thing, it’s not that he’s a boy, but Jack have you considered— They were being honest, or they’ve come around, or they’ve settled down over it, so long as he’s conformed his choices, chosen someone close enough to a WAG, even if he’s failed on the most important point. Tiny, blond. Perfectly coiffed. Supportive to his partner. Charming to the press. Ring on the finger. A homemaker. This is a nod to a few things: (a) the extreme homogeny of NHL WAGs as a reflection of pervasive misogyny in hockey culture, (b) Jack’s misogyny and how he currently views women as sculpted by his life up to this point, (c) the degree to which Bitty metatextually conforms to the WAG model. I’m not going to wade into queer theory here but there is a long-running debate in the community over gay assimilation vs queer liberation. (Both in media e.g. the reactions to Love Simon but also in our annual arguments over Pride, gay marriage, etc.) One side would say, Bitty’s existence as Jack’s partner is transgressive by the fact of its queerness alone, and to scoff at the relationship is wrong because it places higher burden on queer relationships to validate their existence. The other side would say, Jack and Bitty’s relationship as two wealthy white men conforming to cishet cultural standards is not transgressive, instead it is assimilation and leaves behind the rest of the community, and so on. If you spend time in queer spaces (offline or online, Tumblr is a treasure trove for it) you will probably hear this argument ad nauseam. This fic does not take a firm stance on one side or the other, but it is the lens through which it views Jack’s relationships and OMGCP as a whole.

Bringing pie to the hospital. Who even does that. He’s— this guy, this guy is like.

Jack might be gay, but he’s not. He’s not fucking gay like that. Internalized homophobia and misogyny, again. 

---

He’s loitering near the gate, ball cap pulled low over his eyes and waiting for the agent to call first class, when it becomes clear there’s only one real option. He’s a big name now, isn’t he? He’s got an agent who he pays himself. He’s got people. He’s got an iPhone that mostly works like the one he remembers. Someone who works for him has to know where to find Kent Parson. Someone’s got to be able to narrow it down. I wanted to also make it clear that this Jack was someone who had grown up with money. ---

There’s a party going on at the house. The black car drops him off, the forgettable driver either well-trained or forewarned not to try for small talk. And someone who was not particularly considerate of the people around him unless he had to be. Jack gets out with a nod and looks up at the place he’s been brought. The lights are on. He can hear voices through the door.

The door’s not even locked. He slips in. This, at least, is familiar: a crowd of people he doesn’t want to talk to, and somewhere in the middle of it he’ll find Parse. He wants a drink but that’s not what he’s here for. Parse first, then they’ll figure out the rest of it. Yes, this is absolutely an Epikegster reversal. I wanted to reframe Kent’s actions at Epikegster, and examine a world in which they were a natural extension of their history together.

The house isn’t as big as his parents’ place, but it’s bigger than most of the places they’ve gotten shitfaced in together. It’s not packed but it’s crowded, overwhelming: the low pulse of a playlist filled with songs he doesn’t recognize and conversations pitched louder over the music.

Most of the guys are built like hockey players, and most of the girls are built like girlfriends. More misogyny. Some of them look at him like they recognize him, like they’re surprised, like they’re not sure why he’s here.

Fuck them. He’s got as much a right to be here as anyone. He gives out half-nods and pushes his way through. He doesn’t bother to smile. He’s not very good at it anyway. Jack is uncomfortable in social situations, and he defaults to (internal) aggression/sullenness. 

Parse is posted up next to a pool table no one’s playing at. There’s a plethora of directional bulbs in the ceiling shining down on the tarp and throwing shallow shadows off the flotsam of tiny plates and plastic cups. Parse is crowned with light and holding court, his guests angled towards him like flowers stretching towards the sun. This was in fact needlessly melodramatic but it establishes Parse as the emotional center of Jack’s universe, if the way Jack flew to him immediately wasn’t an indication. I wanted it to feel desperate, and sexy, and overwhelming, the way a first relationship when you’re a teenager can feel, especially if it is clandestine and high pressure. 

He looks different than Jack remembers. It pulls Jack up short for a second.

Parse is probably telling one of his rambling stories. The ones where he spends half the runtime grinning, insisting as his audience howls with disbelief. Jack used to fall asleep in the bus seat next to him while Kent was quietly laughing through a story like that, talking to Charlie or Beamer across the aisle. The sound of his voice wasn’t anything in particular, neither melodious nor polished nor carefully filed down. It was simply familiar, and there were very few things in Jack’s life whose planes and edges he knew half so well, so familiar was powerful all the same. In the long run, breaking it off was the right choice, but it wasn’t all bad. It could have been good, if it had happened under different circumstances, or if they’d had any support system at all. Alas.

One of the couples breaks away at a pause, and Jack sees his chance and takes it. He moves in like a skate blade cutting through clean ice. Enough force, enough speed, and nothing can stop you.

“Can I talk to you?” Jack says, ignoring the guy who’s standing next to Parse with eyebrows creeping towards his hairline. Yeah that’s probably Jeff Troy. There’s some implied pre-slash going on in this fic, at least from Jack’s perspective, though whether that’s just his possessiveness at work or a real possibility is an open question.

Parse is staring. His mouth has snapped shut, lips pressed together in a neat pink line. The other guy puts a hand on Parse’s neck, squeezes lightly, then slides it back to his shoulder. The friction pulls at the fabric. It warps across his shoulders, showing a flash of his collarbone. Jack’s eyes catch on it, a quick dip before his focus goes back to Parse’s face. The hand falls. Parse is his.

Parse looks away from Jack, for a second, and he must be a little less opaque to this guy, this nobody, because they sort of nod at each other, and the other guy goes. Jack doesn’t turn to watch where he goes, but the conversations around them bank down. Good. Jack hopes they all leave.

He used to be subtler about this. No less demanding, but he’d always have an alibi ready, an excuse ready to trot out if anyone happened to ask. No one ever did, but Jack still wrote them in his head in the shower, running his lines under the hot spray.

What’s the point of keeping secrets anymore? Jack is out. Jack is out and it’s not even a big deal, apparently, which is, god it’s certainly something. He’s not sure how he feels about this, because according to the memories he has it is a big deal, and it being a big deal is ruining his life. He’s terrified all the time. 

People know he’s gay, and if people know that then they’ve got to know about Kenny, because Jack isn’t subtle after all, and if anyone knows about him they’ve got to have been able to see it immediately. They’ve got to be able to tell just by looking at him. If one domino falls the whole tower goes.

It’s obvious, all obvious, his hand resting on Parse’s thigh, Parse half-in his lap or pressed against Jack knee to hip, the two of them turned toward each other like the line of the crease and the curve of the net. At least one photo has snuck online, given Jack a panic attack when he woke up the next morning and scrolled through on his phone. When he got too fucked up to remember to be cool, forgot where the line was or just let himself drift over it, because Kenny was right there, his hot skin too tempting for Jack not to touch. This is some Romeo and Juliet shit. 

He’d tried to be subtle but people had known. He’s sure people had known. That’s why he’d been so scared. That’s why it had been so important, to make sure they didn’t find out that it wasn’t just buddies. That the first fucking domino never fucking fell. As I said, he’s been living in a state of fear. 

What’s the point of being out, if he can’t come here and stake his claim. If he can’t come here and shut down the party and send all these people away. What’s the point of pretending he likes this when he doesn’t. He wants to talk to Parse. The party is a distraction. The people are window-dressing. The people staring at them like they’re some sort of sideshow are icing on the cake of things Jack doesn’t want to deal with, and cake isn’t in his meal plan so he’s not going to deal with it. He doesn’t have to. He’s free. He’s had to play a role his whole life but the shackles are off. He’s drowning in a world where he knows nothing of his own life, but Parse is his lifeline and every minute he can’t just be with Parse is a minute where his lungs are filling with water. 

He doesn’t want to come here and see Parse with other friends, laughing with another guy, like he’s got room on his line for someone who isn’t Jack. 

It shouldn’t matter, but it does. That should be Jack. Jack woke up in a hospital bed and Kent was nowhere to be found. It feels like a betrayal. I thought this was fun, because it hints to what went down post-overdose.

“What,” Jack says, in lieu of hello, chucking a nod over his shoulder, “he my replacement?” 

Kent looks back at him, steady and unreadable. “That’s my center, Jack.”

He’s holding himself back. Jack doesn’t like that. It pisses him off. He goes in for the check, drawls: “You’ve got a type, huh.”

“Jesus,” Kent says, strangled. “Are you—” he notices that they’re drawing looks and lowers his voice, “on something right now? Did something happen? What are you doing here?” Kent of course has no clue what’s going on. This is set, hm, after Jack’s proposal but discounts Kent’s visit to Bitty, or happens before that.

Is he on something right now? Sure. Acetaminophen and anti-nausea medication. There’s a fun combination, an absolute barrel of laughs. No one offered anything else and Jack wasn’t going to ask for it, not alone in a hospital from a doctor he didn’t recognize. I wanted Jack to be a little biting. All teeth and trust issues. 

Parse knows better than to ask that question. Parse knows Jack doesn’t like to be asked about it, that it puts his back right up when people get condescending over his coping mechanisms. It’s just a few drinks, mostly, he doesn’t need to be fussed at. Parse doesn’t say anything even if Jack catches him looking sometimes. Parse’s cool like that. It’s not easy handling a close friend with a drug problem, especially when you are both sixteen or seventeen. I’ve seen fics that take the tack that Parse should have told the Zimmermanns. No shade to the authors, but I think that is naive to how these situations usually play out. 

He’s been— had been— getting on Jack’s back about it a little more than usual. More of those looks, like Jack was supposed to do something with them. He’d only progressed to actually saying something about it once, trying to jump down Jack’s throat when he was letting loose after a tough loss against the Remparts. Jack had shut it down pretty well though, he thought, saying, “What are you, my mother?” Because nobody wanted to be compared to anyone’s mother, and Parse— who was blond and sharp-jawed, even despite the patchwork playoffs’ fuzz on his chin— could risk it even less. More homophobia and misogyny. These are also here to show Jack’s growth between pre-canon and canon: he doesn’t think like this anymore, for the most part. His coaching stint and Samwell have been good for him in that regard. Kent had picked up the script, even if it had come out a little half-hearted, some dumb chirp about showing Jack’s mother a good time, and Jack had put him in a headlock, and then they’d gone to get more beer.

Except that was eight years ago, so Parse probably doesn’t remember.

“No,” Jack says. If he gives the game away too early, he’s not sure what Parse will do. “I need to talk to you. Can you get rid of everyone?” He licks his lip and presses his luck. “It’s important.” He is pretty good at convincing Kent to go along with his ideas.

“Jesus,” Kent repeats. “Jack. You’re kidding, right? This is my house, these are my friends,” and then he shuts up real fast and makes a face like he’s swallowed something sour. He is remembering Epikegster. 

“It’s important,” Jack insists. There’s an opening here. Blood in the water. Jack senses that Kent feels guilty, though he doesn’t know why.

“I don’t get you, man,” Kent says, with a strangled laugh. He looks away from Jack, half-turns to consider the pool table, and runs a hand through his hair. He’s crumbling. “This is crazy, you know that, right?”

“You gonna kick me out, Kenny?” Jack asks, making his voice go a little rueful, a little husky, just this side of cajoling. 

Kent stiffens at the tone: Jack sees it in his back. There’s a moment where Jack thinks, shit, maybe. Turnabout is fair play, and Kent knows this is going to be rough on him. But...

It’s gone as fast as it comes. Kent slumps in on himself. His shoulders bow forward. “No, Jack,” he says, low, not looking back. “I’m not going to kick you out.” But Jack is someone he loves, so no. 

Kent says something to a woman, and then says something to a man, and ten minutes later the house is clearing out. He wanders off to stand by the door and accept goodbyes.

Jack doesn’t want to let Parse out of his sight, but he wants to hang in the background while he trades platitudes with his new teammates and their associated arm-candy even less. More misogyny, more hammering out that Jack was not a very good teammate in Juniors. He was so inwardly focused and socially uncomfortable and hiding and lying himself all the time. He distracts himself looking at the pictures hung up on the wall just long enough to realize he isn’t in any of them, then counts the wine-glasses collecting condensation on the sideboard instead. No coasters. He can imagine his mother’s reaction. I’m trying to hint at Alicia’s personality here. Snobbish. Kent’s upbringing is far removed from Jack’s.

Eventually Parse pads back to find him. He’s turned the music off. The house is quiet, and Jack feels, all of a sudden, very tired. To be fair, he does have PCS.

“So,” Parse says, from three feet away.

“I wanted to see you,” Jack says.

“You wanted to see me,” he repeats. He looks— disbelieving. For obvious reasons.

“Yes,” says Jack, “I did.” He hesitates. He needs time. He needs a plan. Part of him thought if he got the two of them alone together, things would just make sense. Like this whole yarn-ball of a world would unravel at his feet. Now he’s here, the only thing unraveling is him. He doesn’t know what to say. Kent isn’t behaving the way Jack expected, the way Jack needs him to.

He wonders how much Kent’s had to drink. This would be easier, if Jack had a drink, if they both did. Kent doesn’t get drunk, not the way Jack does— did. I don’t like losing control, he’d confessed, walking back from one of the many no-name parties. Jack had been pretty drunk, himself, at the time, but that one he’d remembered. The way Parse had hunched in to himself, as though it was soft. It was pretty soft, Jack had thought, a little scornful. But he hadn’t minded. Not that he’d ever admit it out loud, then nor now, but he’d liked Parse soft. Jack wasn’t supposed to respect that kind of behavior, but he loved Parse, and he couldn’t help but love the soft parts of him too. Of course he couldn’t admit or show it.

This Kent seems— harder. Kent’s been through some shit. He saw what soft got him. If he tells him the truth, will he kick him out? Will he send him back to the hospital and all the things Jack isn’t ready to face? Jack can’t imagine it, but he couldn’t have imagined any of this. He couldn’t have imagined how Parse is looking at him right now. He isn’t ready to handle what Parse will do if Jack tells him the truth.

“It’s a long story,” Jack hedges. He just needs a little more time. “I’m, um, pretty tired. Long flight.”

“Right,” Kent says, “right. But like,” and then he stops himself up again, teeth combing over his bottom lip. “I just. God, Jack, you have to give me something, here.”

“I will,” Jack says. “I promise. Just, tomorrow, okay?”

“I—” Kent does that laugh again. The fake one. The one that means, I’m fucking lost in this conversation please send help. Jack’s only heard it when Kent was sending him the S.O.S.; he’s never been its cause. First time for a lot of things tonight. Or the first time he remembers. “Fuck. Okay. Sure. Tomorrow.” He rubs a hand over his hair again, parks it on the back of his own neck and squeezes. “I just. God. This really isn’t fair.”

“It’s fair, Kent, come on,” says Jack.

“Right.” Kent shakes his head. Squeezes the back of his own neck again. “Fuck, fine. Yeah, you’re right. Turnabout. I— come on.” Epikegster rears its beer-soaked head again.

He leads Jack through the house and up a set of gaudy stairs in silence, pointing out the bathroom with as few words as possible. It’s uncomfortable. Awkward. If Jack didn’t know better, he’d guess Kent was mic’d up for the way he’s acting, but Kent mic’d up was always cracking jokes, cheesing for the audience at home. Jack was the one who went silent and sullen, and it’s hard to imagine that’s changed.

Kent deposits Jack in the guest suite with a modicum of fanfare. He’s on the verge of disappearing again when Jack breaks.

“Parse. We’re— we’re friends, aren’t we?” he asks, a little desperately.

He sees Kent falter, bracing one hand against the bedroom door. Collect himself. “That’s the thing, Jack. We’re really, really not.” This is one of the first exchanges I wrote! I don’t know if it fits perfectly here, but I wanted to keep it, so here it is. The darlings were not killed.

---

Jack doesn’t sleep well that night, but he does sleep, and when he wakes up it’s not to an alarm. His phone has died overnight. He could have bought a charger at the airport, or borrowed one from Parse, but he didn’t. He’s not interested in dodging whoever’s on the other side of it. This is in contrast to Jack in afterthoughts, who spends half the fic on his phone, who has a community and a support system. This Jack considers himself to have no one but Parse.

He didn’t actually pack anything. He got a cab right to the airport. He has his wallet and a dead phone and the clothes that were on his back. They’re pretty grody now, between the dried sweat, recycled cabin air and stale salted pretzel wrapper crunching in the back pocket. 

There are some clothes in the dresser, even though it’s a guest room. Not a lot: a few tees, nondescript. Jack squints at them, rifling through. They look like they’ll fit him. They look like they’d be a little big on Parse. Friend? Teammate? Hookup? Rookie?

No way to tell.

He’s used to taking his pills in the morning. Also at other times, if he needs them. He doesn’t have any pills with him. Apparently he doesn’t take them anymore, or so the doctor had said, anyway. He’s not sure if he wants them. He’s used to wanting them. He sort of wants the rattle of the bottle, the option in his pocket. He’s out of his depth, here. I spent a few minutes thinking about how fantasy amnesia would affect brain chemistry, and then stopped thinking about it because who cares.

Jack doesn't have a problem. People who have problems keep all their trash piled on the floor with their possessions. People with problems can’t keep money in their pocket. They live, as his mother would say, with the faintest wrinkle across her sculpted nose, in squalor. This is doing work to establish the Zimmermann family vibe. Parents who are perfectly aware their kid is spending their sizable allowance on drugs, or who don’t bother to think about whether that may be the case, but obviously their child is not an addict. Call it classism, racism, or willful blindness. They lie about their prescriptions, or lie about their problems to get more prescriptions. A doctor gave Jack his prescription. He didn’t have to steal it, or get it from one of the guys one of the guys knows.

Jack has a Cup. Two of them, now, actually. The second one’s a little more important, but he doesn’t remember winning it, so. It feels less important than the one he remembers raising. If he had a problem, he wouldn’t have a Cup. So he doesn’t have a problem. He has a problem.

He doesn’t have pills either. He misses the rattle. ---

When he makes his way downstairs, the house looks like it hosted a party where all the guests left in a hurry. Cups are set everywhere, still partially filled. There’s bright sunlight filtering in, white-hot and unappealing, especially in the kitchen where there aren’t any blinds.  

There is, however, an uncomfortably large cat sitting on the counter, complete with a half-length tail and tufted ears, right between Jack and the coffee machine.

Jack’s allergic to cats. Not deathly allergic, but their dander makes him sneeze, and he’d rather not touch any, because sometimes his skin gets red and irritated. He stares at the cat and the cat stares back, unaffected, and then blinks and looks away. It begins washing a paw right there, like it has any business being there. Being here. One more fucking sign that this isn’t a place Jack is welcome. That this isn’t a place he’s expected to be. I thought it would be neat if Kent had allowed himself to love something that was actively opposed to Jack’s needs. A ray of hope, shall we say.

Kent stumbles into the kitchen. Either he’s got ears as sharp as any cat’s or he was waiting for Jack to wake up. He brushes a hand over the cat’s back, goes to press some buttons on the coffee machine. Once it’s settled to his satisfaction, he turns around, still in low-slung sweatpants and a UNLV Rebels! tee riding up over his belly, and looks like he’s gearing himself up to say something.

“You’ve got a cat?” Jack asks, incredulous, before he can open his mouth. “Someone trusted you to keep that alive?” This is caustic because we know canon, but it’s not outrageous as a chirp.

Parse doesn’t answer. His mouth opens and shuts. All the air in him snuffs out through his nose in short time. He closes one hand behind him on the counter. He’s trembling, so minor Jack could have missed it, if he hadn’t been zeroed onto the shallow snatches of bare wrist, neck, eyes, eyes, eyes. But he is, so he sees it, like a neon sign saying You Fucked Up. As mentioned, Parse is the most important person in Jack’s life by a long shot. Jack is 100% tuned into Kent’s frequency. They are codependent; they’re together in a foxhole.

It takes his brain a moment to catch up with the clenched fist in his gut.

Right. Jack overdosed. Jack almost died. These are facts he’s been told, but they don’t feel real. They happened to someone else.

Kent’s eyes leave the floor and climb over to where the cat still sits. It’s moved on to washing its belly. Fucking nasty to do it on the countertop, Jack thinks, leaving cat-hair and cat-spit everywhere. More about Jack’s upbringing.

“I, uh. Yeah.” Kent says. He looks back at Jack. Hard eyes in a hard face. “I got a cat. And fuck you, by the way, for asking.” Kent has boundaries and he can enforce them. He’s having a shitty time here but he’s not meant to be a woobie. 

It was a joke, Jack thinks, irritated. A harmless chirp. Is this who Kent is, now, the kind of guy who overreacts to the littlest things? No way. No goddamn way. I thought this was a fun bit of characterization: a nod at an appropriate level of toxicity for Juniors hockey culture. Maybe he’s just become one of those old guys who can’t handle himself before coffee. That’s a thing, right, when people get old. To a teenager, twenty-five is old, especially in hockey. 

The cat hops off the counter and saunters out of the kitchen in that particular-cat way. As if it couldn’t give less of a damn about its audience. Right back at you, Jack thinks, sour. Competition, but also a sign this Kent isn’t Jack’s. Jack feels abandoned in the foxhole.

“I didn’t come here to fight,” Jack says. “I want to talk.”

Kent pours himself a cup of coffee and downs it in under thirty seconds, sets the empty back on the countertop with a click. “Right. Sure. I’m uh, I have some things I want to say, too.”

Jack gestures vaguely, and Kent’s mouth tips. He stares determinedly at Jack in a way that feels unnatural, and says, “I should have taken a hint. I fucked up.” Kent is apologizing for his behavior during Jack’s Samwell tenure.

Jack relaxes. This is familiar. That’s one of the differences between them: Jack’s stubborn, a stubbornness that doesn’t fade, no matter how far he gets from a fight. Parse’s anger is fast to light but it burns off every time, and then he scrapes out the embers and comes back around. If Parse is apologizing, that’s something Jack can work with. Apologies aren’t part of what they do, and Jack has no context. To him, this is a sign that Kent cares. 

“It’s good to see you,” he offers. He moves a little closer. It’s odd to be having this conversation when Parse is still putting three, five, seven feet between them. He’s used to bumping shoulders in the morning, both of them trying to work the deadly steam-wand on the Zimmermann’s espresso machine, bickering over the angle of the mug. Jack doesn’t like all this empty space. He didn’t come here to sleep alone last night. Codependent.

“It’s good to see you too, Jack,” Parse says, derailed. This is not how Parse thought this would go. His eyes are still tipped up toward Jack’s, even as Jack steps in, but there’s a distance there.

“That’s not what you call me,” Jack says, frustrated. He leans closer, says softer, “Call me Zimms, Kenny.”

“I can't do that,” Kent says. “I'm not going to do that.” Kent is really really really confused.

His hands are locked by his sides. They aren’t even in fists or in his pockets, just hanging loose. There’s still a foot and a half between them, but Kent turns around, grabs for a washcloth, and the moment’s broken.

“I’ve got to clean this up,” Kent says, staring determinedly at the kitchen counter, all the artifacts of the night before. “Why don’t you take a shower.”

---

It’s not hard to find Kent when he ventures back downstairs. He’s filled the sink with dishes, and is tying off a garbage bag. He looks up at Jack and gives this half-smile and opens his mouth, and Jack’s worried about what he’ll say— what he’ll ask— so he plucks at his chest, tries for nonchalance when he asks, “Whose shirt is this, anyway?”

Kent squints down at his chest, then back up. His eyes don’t linger. Jack regrets putting on a shirt at all. I love Jack, he’s such a baby. He wants so badly for Kent to want him back. “Uh, I dunno?” he says, hefting the bag out of the way. “One of the guys, I guess.”

“One of the guys,�� Jack echoes, a little— hard. Probing. Jack is territorial. 

“Yeah, like.” Kent pauses. He stands up straighter. Kent is secure in his captaincy and his team. “You know. The team. The guys here last night.”

“So not,” Jack says. He frowns. “A guy.” A guy who you are fucking.

“Yeah, like a guy on the team, Jack. Last I checked they were all guys.” Kent is getting annoyed at Jack for pressing this.

“So you’re not,” presses Jack, “you’re not, like.” Seeing someone.

“I’m not what,” Kent says.

“Well.” Jack raises a hand and waves it— awkwardly. Plucks at his own shirt again. “You know.”

“If you have something you want to say, Jack,” Kent says— warns? Like he’s on the verge of saying something else. You know I can’t, you know that, just because it worked out for you doesn’t mean that I can just.

“I’m just curious,” Jack says, which is true, and also, well: a lie. “If you were. Since you could.” Since anyone would want you, since you’re incredible, since you’re out now.

“I could what,” Kent says. Are we really having this conversation.

“I mean. People know,” Jack says. “That you’re.” Gay.

“No,” Kent says, when Jack stalls out. “Actually. They don’t.” He assumes Jack is talking about his team knowing. 

“But the people here last night,” Jack says. Jack assumes that Kent is out to the world the way he is, but if not, at least the hockey world must know.

“No.”

“But people know,” Jack pushes, even though Kent’s— stonewalling, “about me.” Being gay.

Kent has his hands shoved in his back pockets where Jack can’t see them. He says, clipped off, “I’m not sure what that has to do with it.” He saw Jack come out under the Cup, he saw how little it had to do with him.

“Don’t be fucking dense,” Jack snaps, “of course it has to do with it.” Because they’re intertwined. Because how could it possibly not concern Kent if it concerned Jack.

All Kent says is: “Not from where I’m standing.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Jack demands. “Not from— are you—”

Kent’s being a fucking asshole. It’s one thing if he doesn’t want this or want them anymore. Fine. Jack can— that’s fine. Acting like it wasn’t important, though, that’s. That’s something else entirely. That’s not.

It’s just not. Yeah this is slapping at Jack’s reframing of his relationship in canon. Sorry, canon.

Charming Kent. Tired Kent. Combative Kent. Dissembling Kent. Jack is getting whiplash from this paper doll man and his wardrobe of faces. If he stays here he’s going to, he doesn’t even know, something he’ll regret. He regrets being here, despite that there’s nowhere else for him to go. He doesn’t even have anything to take the edge off. There’s no bottle in his back pocket. There’s no hockey game to play. There’s no one else here for Jack to try and focus on instead. Jack is a mess of maladaptive coping mechanisms.

“I’m going for a walk.” He looks around for his shoes. They must be here somewhere.

“You don’t know your way around,” Kent says, dogging him towards the door.

“I can figure it out.” It’s a suburb. Jack’s not going to get lost in a cul de sac for christ's sake. Can Kent just get off his back for a minute. Can Jack get some space and some goddamn air. He’s again uncomfortable with what he perceives as mothering behavior. 

He jams his feet into his shoes, fumbles at the lock.

“You’re just,” Kent says, but Jack doesn’t find out what he’s just, because he slams the door behind him before Kent can finish and jogs out past the yard.

It’s hot outside: hot enough that the air is shimmering over the surface of the drive. It’s the kind of air that hovers in his lungs but doesn’t stick there. I just need a little space, thinks Jack, pushing shallow mouthfuls of it in and out. I just need some space and that’s all.

---

He doesn’t feel calmer when he stumbles back up the steps a while later, tell-tale heat rising off his face and his forearms where the sun has left its mark. He lets himself in and walks into the sitting room to find Kent on the phone looking peaky.

“I don’t know, Eric,” Kent says, curt, and then he sees Jack and shuts up all at once. There’s a buzz of something through the receiver but Jack can’t make out the words. Kent says, “I, I have to go. I’ll. Later,” and clicks off the call even as the other person’s still talking.

He wets his lip and says, “Jack, look, I’m—”

“How could you,” Jack says, each word stinging like a paper cut, "you had no right. You what, you think you can just—” This is a betrayal.

“I’m trying to help,” Kent says, “okay? Don’t fly off the handle.”

“Who was that, fuck, my fucking— my,” he doesn’t want to say it; he grits it out: “fiance—”

Kent flushes. “Yeah, I was on the phone with your fucking fiance,” he says, “and before that it was your father, who hasn't said more than two sentences to me in years but he sure has plenty to say now, and I've got texts from Mashkov promising to leave me a bloody smear on the ice and a half dozen others of your nearest and dearest telling me exactly what they think of me so you can give it a goddamn rest.” Kent now knows the truth, and Kent is still harboring a fair amount of resentment for the way that their lives were cleaved apart after the codependency of Juniors. He’s got the same wound Jack has, but he’s had longer for it to scab over.

The words ring in Jack’s ears like the peals of a fire alarm, more trauma than substance. He’s so. He feels so. Betrayed. Hunted. Terrorized.

He came to the desert looking for an oasis. He wanted space and time to sort himself out. It’s bad enough to have Parse here, when Parse is clearly done with Jack. At least he’s still something Jack knew once, something with recognizable bones under the new coat of paint. At least when Jack looks at him he feels like he understands something, part of something, part of himself.

This isn’t like that. The intrusion of the future is unwelcome. It makes Jack feel like a cornered animal, leg stuck in a trap, snarling. The future isn’t something he can fight. That doesn’t mean he’s not going to fight. 

“You?” Jack sneers, because Kent is the only target in range. This isn’t the first time this has happened, for either of them. “Why would they, it's not as though you matter.” You’re the only thing that matters but that’s wrong, that’s unacceptable. He’s not even sure what he’s saying or whether it makes sense. It’s an approximation of what he’s angry about, and it’s easier to throw out the accusation instead of figuring out exactly what he feels and saying that instead. “You’re, you— I thought you would help me. I thought you would and now you’re talking behind my back, can’t wash your hands of me quick enough.”

“You came to me,” Kent says, sharp and bright as broken glass. Jack could slice himself open on that. He’s grasping at a story he doesn’t know and Kent’s just stating what is. He’s got that leg up on Jack. Jack could hate him for that, if he was capable of hating Kent, if he had ever managed anything close to it.

“Were you going to tell me that you don’t remember anything, I mean, jesus, Jack.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re— okay, fucking, that’s clearly a lie.” I want you to be alright.

“I’m fine,” Jack insists.

“I thought you were in crisis. What, was I supposed to ignore my phone the way you apparently are?” Kent could always deal with the outside world better than Jack could.

“Yes,” Jack says. “Yes, that’s exactly what I needed you to do.” It’s us against the world, why do we need anyone else. How dare you let anyone else in.

“Well I just mean,” Kent says, and then, “if it was me—” 

“Well it’s not you,” Jack seethes, “is it. It’s not you back there with me in,” he scrambles to remember, “Buffalo, I mean Providence, I mean wherever,” does it matter, none of it matters, “you’re here living your life, cup rings, parties with alcohol you actually pay for, got all your dreams eh? Makes sense you want to wash your hands of me. Plotting what you’re going to do—” You left me.

“It’s not— I’m not going to make you do anything!” Kent flings his arms wide. He’s still talking in his reasonable voice, clean and crisp and collected like Jack’s the media, close enough to calm like this barely matters to him. Jack can’t read Kent’s new masks. Jack hates it. He hates it. “They want to know that you’re alive, that I can at least keep you alive. That’s all it is.” They don’t trust me. 

“Well you couldn’t last time,” Jack digs, and Kent curves back like a bow. His arm snaps into his chest. He opens his mouth and closes it. Ouch buddy.

That’s right, Jack thinks. That’s right. I got you. I win.

Part of you still cares about me. Even though you left. Even though you let me leave you. 

It’s all he needs. He sees his opening and he takes it. He drives forward, shoves in. He crowds Kent back until he’s got him up against the wall, leans down close, gets right in his face. Their eyes aren’t more than two inches apart. Nowhere to hide. If, if there’s something there, Jack will find it. He won’t let Kent hide it anymore. They still know enough about each other that Jack can crack Kent open, even if he’s running off a partial picture. 

He’s basically breathing the same square inch of air Kent’s breathing out. He doesn’t go in for more, doesn’t try to bite a kiss out of him, even though— even though. He just boxes him in and looks at his ears going blotchy red. Kent’s got nowhere else to look but up at Jack, though he tries— god, he tries, eyes darting this way and that. He opens his mouth and Jack feels a spark run down his back. He can tell that Kent is getting angry. He can tell this is going to be good. tl;dr they were a glorious messy sexy disaster in Juniors.

“What the fuck,” Kent hisses. His hands come up to shove at Jack’s chest. He puts his back in it too, all that whipcord muscle flexing under the surface, checking into Jack like he’s trying to start something.

Good, because Jack wants to fucking start something. Competition is part of that.

“I’m engaged,” Jack says, incandescent, furious: “I’m engaged.”

And you’re not, and you’re not even— there— And not to you. Everything is fucked up and I got everything I never dared to dream of but you’re not part of it and I told you we were doomed but I never thought I would survive a future where that was the case.

He can’t talk. He doesn’t have the words. What good are words? What good are—

He remembers Kent telling him he was good. With his words, with his eyes, with his hands. Jack saying it back. Not as much, not as well, but it was in his fingers every time he touched Kent. Kent had to have known. Kent thought he knew that. Kent has to remember how good they were together. Kent is realizing that there were some problems actually.

Jack has to make sure he remembers. Jack can remind him with this body, this better body. With this functional brain. Jack’s leveled up so he can win this back.

It was good last time but it will be better now. It can be real now, instead of— instead of whatever it was. All-consuming like a forest fire eating up all the air in Jack’s lungs. He tried so hard to smother it. It never worked. But it will be better now. Jack’s aired his— what he is. Homophobia, he doesn’t want to use the word gay to describe himself. He’s out and he can’t change it. It’s done. It’s in the rearview. Jack could never let himself have this before and it destroyed him but the veneer of his heterosexuality is gone so who cares, he can have it now.  

There’s no reason he can’t have this. If he’s already paying the price, he should be able to have this.

He leans in a little further, close enough he can smell Kent’s hair. It doesn’t smell any way in particular. Not even familiar. Whatever soap Kent’s using now isn’t the same he used in Juniors. He leans in anyway because he can get his lips up close next to Parse’s temple, get a closer view at how his lashes jut out over his cheeks.

He can follow the edge of Kent’s jaw down to his neck, down to where it disappears under the collar of his shirt. He wants to put his mouth right there. Right where the cotton hides Kent away.

���Let me have this,” he whispers. “We can have this.”

“Zimms,” Parse chokes out. He’s clutching at Jack’s shirt. He doesn’t even seem to realize he’s doing it. 

He’s not sure how long it is, a second, a century. Balanced there on a knife’s edge. But Jack looks down. Jack looks down and Kent is hard. Jack can see it. Jack can— Jack can press in, knock a leg between Kent’s, bring one hand down to scrape against his belly, wrap the other around his hip.

Fuck, Jack thinks, high as he’s ever been in his life: he’s got it all wrong. Kent does want him. Kent does want this: physically, emotionally. But Kent knows it’s a mistake.

He remembers Parse at seventeen, laughing and cheesy, give me that friction baby. In his head, it was only last week. This part hurt me to write. I was like, this is hopefully gonna be hot, but I also wanted it to hurt. Because there were good parts; that’s what makes it a tragedy.

It would be easy to slip his hand down, dip underneath the worn elastic waistband and grind the heel of his palm against the crease. To let his fingers curl around the familiar weight of Kent’s dick, hot and insistent under the piling cotton of his soft-washed grey sweats.

Jack’s caught up in the picture of it, running his lip between his teeth: pure anticipation, five seconds ahead. That’s what gives Kent the advantage. He makes a sound, half-growl half-howl, teeth bared, and knocks Jack back a foot. He slips through the gap he’s created. He sidesteps Jack and scatters.

He’s halfway across the room before Jack’s brain catches up, shocky and slow. Jack turns and Kent’s chest is heaving, his eyes wide and wild. The level of discipline it took him to say no was high.

Jack’s bitten his own lip. He rubs at it with the back of his hand. The hand that should be leaving fingerprint-bruises on the meat of Kent’s thighs right now.

“Come on,” he scoffs, rejection curdling in his chest so sour he needs to lash out, let it out. “We both want it. The fuck are you so scared of?” This is how they talked to each other when they remembered they couldn’t be soft. Toxic masculinity is a trip.

“We don’t both want it,” Kent grits out. His hands are curled into fists at his sides. I want it, but I know you don’t.

Jack’s fully hard now, feels like a bobcat on the prowl. He grinds his palm down where he’s tenting his jeans, and Parse’s eyes swoop down for a second, following it. They bounce back up fast, but it’s too late: Jack saw it. Jack saw it. He’s so desperate for this. I’m sad now. 

“You want it,” he presses, “and I want it.”  

“You have brain damage!” Kent roars. It’s the first time he’s raised his voice since Jack got here. Finally, Jack thinks: finally. He wants Kent to care. “You don’t want— you don't know what you want, you dumbass motherfucker. You can’t just, you don’t know, you don’t know anything, and you’re just, you just—” his fists come up in front of him like he’s just dropped the gloves, and there’s a moment: one moment Jack wonders if this is going to turn ugly and vicious and physical and good, if Kent’s going to come back in range so Jack can put his hands back on him, if he’s going to have a chance to take Kent to the floor. They had Some Times in Juniors.

But quick as it came, it evaporates, and Kent’s pressing the knuckles of his thumbs into his own eyes and drawing them down his face, talking into his own hands, going on quieter, “—you just don’t know, alright? You don’t fucking know what this is.” But Kent isn’t actually seventeen anymore. 

“I used to think about what I’d do if you showed up here,” says Kent. “I used to dream about it. What I would do. How I’d convince you to stay.” He wanted this, but not like this. Closure is a moving target, but this is moving Kent towards it. 

“Whose side do you think I’m even on,” Kent says. “It’s always your side. It’s always been your side.” I’m fighting on behalf of your future self.  

Jack says, a final try: “It doesn’t look like it from where I’m standing.” You’re not fighting for me. 

Kent closes his eyes. “This is all I can fucking do.” 

The arousal washes out of him like the tide going out. It leaves Jack clammy and bereft. He sags back against the wall, slides down it until he’s sitting on his heels.

“I knew this would happen,” he says, looking at his knees. “I knew it. That you would end up on the other side of the country.” He closes his eyes. “That we’d end up hating each other.” This was why I couldn’t let myself have you, or imagine a future. I knew we had a deadline and there was no point.

For a moment it’s quiet. The buzz of the air conditioner is faintly audible.

“This didn’t just happen,” Kent says. His voice breaks in the middle. It doesn’t make Jack feel better. Kent presses on: “It wasn’t a natural phenomenon. It wasn’t fate. You chose this, Jack. This is what you wanted.” Kent’s perspective is a little different; he’s a little more pragmatic, he has different hang-ups. Kent thought they could have made it work.

It’s hard to believe it wasn’t a natural phenomenon. That what ripped them apart wasn’t as unfaceable as a tornado, as upheaving as an earthquake, as devastating as a wildfire. Even though he’d known there was an end-date rushing towards them, he hadn’t been able to imagine it: going on living and playing hockey without Parse by his side, without Parse going through it with him. It was a future Jack couldn’t conceptualize, much less face. Jack was going to go to Las Vegas and Parse was gonna stay on the East Coast, and Parse was going to play on someone else’s wing. Not like when Coach sent Parse out with a different line for a shift to switch things up, but permanently, probably right up until they stopped playing hockey, and that had seemed. At the time of the draft, they were each other’s entire support system. The prospect of losing that was terrifying. In canon, they both found out the hard way they could survive without it.

It had seemed— But before he went to therapy and rehab and so on, Jack really, really could not deal with that prospect.

He never paid much attention in his science classes, but he remembers one interminable lecture, physics teacher trying vainly to interest the group of them in something. Jack doesn’t remember the specifics, just this one concept, maybe, that stuck with him. There were laws that governed the world and how it worked, but they broke down at the edges: when things were very, very large or very, very small, they worked by different rules. The laws didn’t apply. If you tried to measure something, you could change it. If you looked at it, it would fix itself in a new position. This is all a little nonsensical but I wanted to echo an emotional spiral. I’m not sure how effective this section and the next few lines are.

What were we, Jack thinks, very big or very small?

Did it matter, did it matter, did I matter to you in the long run—

Why didn’t I leave a mark on you.

Why aren’t your marks all over my life? Spiraling continues. 

“You said we weren’t going to do this alone,” he says. “You promised.”

“You didn’t do it alone,” Kent says. For a moment Jack thinks he’s about to say something else. Jack didn’t, but Kent did. He opens his eyes to catch it. But whatever it is, Kent swallows it. He says instead, halting: “You have. People. In your corner.” And I resent them for it, I resent that it means that I’m not that person anymore, but I’m glad you have them.

Jack has the names in his head. One name above the rest. Eric Bittle. He doesn’t want to say it. He doesn’t want to make it real.

“They’re worried about you,” Kent says. He shoves his hands under his armpits. A second later, he drops them down. No tells allowed, Jack thinks. Not in Vegas. “They’re allowed to be worried.” He doesn’t care about Eric Bittle but he empathizes with his situation.

“I don’t know them,” Jack says to his knees. “I don’t know what they want from me.”

“They’re worried you’re going to relapse, in one way or another.” He rubs at his jaw. Ten minutes ago Jack was going to bite him there, right in that spot. See if Kent still marked up the same way. The need has fled now. It’s not so hard to drag his eyes up. “They think I’m not good for you.”

Whoever those people are, Jack thinks. Whoever they are. You’re the one who said you didn’t care what people would think. You said I didn’t need to worry about them all. Jack is remembering all the things Kent said in Juniors about their future. All those things he wouldn’t let himself believe but hoped for anyway. 

“Maybe they’re right,” Kent says.

You gave up on us, Jack thinks.

You gave up on me. I love irony. 

---

They can’t avoid each other forever, not shut up in the same house, but they try. Oh, do they try.

Kent’s not going to kick him out, though. Jack was right about that. Kent’s going to let him stay here as long as he needs, even though the phone line’s been ringing off and on all afternoon as it creeps towards evening. 

It’s their stomachs that betray them. Two pro-athletes who can skip lunch but not dinner. By silent agreement they don’t talk about any of it, just trade enough words to get two meals plated and onto the kitchen table.

Jack’s chewing his way through a spear of broccoli when he remembers it and grins.

“Still can’t believe you set off the fire alarm at the beach house,” he says, “and then tried to get out of cleanup with your dick. Dumbass.”

He can remember it perfectly, is the thing— the white-washed walls, the gentle smells of sea air and perfectly baked pastry sitting out on the counter covered with a towel absolutely overwhelmed by the stench of burnt brussels sprouts rising from the frying pan mixed with acrid smoke; Kent yelling without any real ire, flapping his hands at the stove like it was going to fix anything, and Jack laughing his ass off as he went to go open a window. And he can remember the aftermath, black goo melted onto the burner, Kent climbing right onto his lap on the couch to try and bribe Jack into handling the cleanup.

When he looks up at Parse, though, he’s staring down at his own plate, unsmiling.

“No, Jack,” he says. “I didn’t.” Ouch.

Fuck. Right.

The details of the memory catch at his mind. The hair’s got the wrong shape at the front, the jaw’s all wrong all over. It’s not Kent in the kitchen with him. It’s not Kent on the couch, after. It’s the guy from the hospital.

Bittle. Eric Bittle. Jack’s fiance.

He’s got two sets of histories to choose from. The set that feels older, even though he can remember most of it, each frame still present in his head. Kent on his lap: limbs akimbo, laughing sloppy, eyes slipping shut. Jack with his hands loose around him: afraid to hold on tightly, afraid to look too closely, afraid to be observed.

Then the other memory, bright and immediate even though he’s missing the context, the before and after, the where and when of how it fits in. The other guy, sitting over Jack’s lap, knee-walking up until their chests were pressed together, his arms around Jack’s neck, Jack’s hand gripping his ass. Neither of them in the mood to let go. Freedom from fear.

He looks a little like Kent did, when Kent was smaller, when he wasn’t built like a NHL player doing on an NHL meal plan and an NHL training regimen. Now Kent’s got thick thighs and a core like a tree trunk. He wouldn’t fit as easily on Jack’s lap. There’s something a little off putting about trying to picture it. There is still a degree of internalized homophobia happening here, and a gesture at some lingering in future Jack.

“He seems like a good guy,” Jack says, careful. He’s trying to piece together his feelings. They hover like a lure: little flashes of recollection like a high beam through the brain fog. A little part of him says, no, I want to stay here. It’s getting quieter the longer he waits. The future’s too tempting. He wants to know. His feelings are pulling him back.

“Jesus fuck,” Kent says, standing up. “I can’t do this.”

Jack stands up too, reflexive. “Kenny, wait.”

Kent crosses his arms in front of his chest. He isn’t putting on the poker face he’s had up. This is a different face. This is his face when they’re down two going into the dying minutes of the third. He knows he lost this a long time ago. He’s talking to the ghost of a Jack who died a long time ago. 

“You don’t give a shit about me,” he bites out. “Alright? I get it now. It took me a long time, but I got there.” Jack went to rehab, and Jack went to Samwell, and Jack moved on. He stops for a second, his chest heaving. Jack figures he should say something. Trouble is he doesn’t know what to say. The closer Jack gets to his future self, the less he knows how to handle Kent.

While he’s thinking about it, Kent grabs his plate. He dumps it in the sink where it clatters, but he doesn’t turn the water on. Dinner’s over, Jack thinks.

“It's good that you made it,” Kent tells the faucet. “I'm glad you survived. But don’t expect me to sit here and listen to how much better your life is without me in it.”

---

The next morning when Jack wakes up, his memories have slotted back into place like a pallet of lent-out library books.

It’s underwhelming, having them back. What’s odd isn’t this. What’s odd is yesterday, the day before, pieces that don’t fit onto the shelves. He’s embarrassed as hell at the way he’s behaved the past two days. That guy isn’t who he is anymore. Jack has matured and built out his emotional toolkit, even though he’s still not perfect. 

Part of Jack is glad he brought himself out here to turn his edges on Kent. He wasn’t good to Bitty, hasn’t been fair to his parents, but at least they didn’t have to see him like this. At least Bitty only got a bit of it before Jack took himself out of the timezone. This is kind of terrible, but very natural, I think. 

It’s not fair to anyone but he’s glad all the same. Kent, at least, knew what he was getting into, more or less. Kent was there the first time around. To future Jack, Kent’s not the sun. Kent’s feelings aren’t prioritized. To future Jack, Kent has been slotted into the role of “my weird ex-hookup who can’t take a hint despite the fact that we’ve been broken up for years”. Most people aren’t very concerned about how they treat their weird ex-hookup who can’t take a hint.

He doesn’t have anything to pack. He doesn’t have a plane ticket home but he can get one at the airport. He needs to get out of here. He needs to leave as soon as possible. Contrast this with afterthoughts.

He leaves the borrowed clothes in a pile on the bed and puts back on his own shirt and jeans. Kent’s bedroom door is open but he isn’t in there, isn’t in the bathroom or downstairs either. Jack’s got his thumb on the app and a ride snaking its way here, but it feels odd, disappearing as abruptly as he came.

He’s not sure whether he should just— leave. Maybe that’s the right thing to do: leave no trace behind. Maybe that would be easier than trying to say goodbye.

While he’s waffling, the door opens, and thirty seconds later Kent appears in the kitchen, beelining for the water dispenser on the front of the fridge. He’s back from a run, Jack guesses, or the gym. The choice evaporates. Jack’s a little uneasy. A little relieved.

Kent gives Jack a half-nod, and Jack says, “My memories are back.”

Kent’s hand stutters on the glass, just enough to slosh on it’s way to his mouth. He takes a sip, then mouths the splash off his arm. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” Jack says, “for not, um.” Taking advantage of me.

Kent’s eyes are walled off but his voice is sharp: “Fuck off.” Fuck you for thinking I would.

Jack wants to say, I know you wouldn’t. It gets caught in his throat.

Does he know that? He knows it now. He’s not sure if it was something he knew before… all this. If he knew it, if he believed it.

He can admit it: he thought of Kent as someone who’d take what he could get. He was wrong. Again, he’s convinced himself that Kent was his weird ex-hookup, and that was all it was. Obviously this entire fic revolves around that not being the case, but that’s the story Jack told himself, that’s the narrative he’s rebuilt himself on top of. 

“I’ve called a car,” Jack says.

“Back to Providence?” Kent confirms, as though they’re discussing the weather. Maybe he’s just making small talk. Jack doesn’t know. Jack doesn’t know anything. He’s got eight years of memories back and they haven’t made Kent any easier for him to read. Since he spent those eight years avoiding Kent.

“Yeah,” Jack says, even though he’s not sure Kent was really looking for an answer. He rubs at his arm, and adds, distracted: "I have some things to set right. I don't know if he'll forgive me. If he'll still want me back. I said some awful things." Kent’s interiority isn’t a priority for Jack; Kent’s personhood isn’t a priority for Jack. His focus is on himself and Bitty.

Jack realizes after he says it that it's a mistake. Kent doesn't answer but Jack hears it anyway: I did.

Kent’s got something of a reputation on the ice. He’s not the worst rat in the league, not by a large margin, but he can get under a guy’s skin. He draws his fair share of penalties against, and gets players cursing him, even though he’s charming as anything when the game is over. Kent gets in the way, gets up in faces, always with that shit-eating grin. And he’s small, so people go for him, sometimes. I think it’s fun to write different Kent Parson NHL personas in different fics. In this one, I went for a blend of Matthew Tkachuk and Brad Marchand. 

He’s learned how to fight, somewhere along the way, a fact Jack learned reviewing tape his own rookie season. Jack had avoided following Kent’s career. He’s not the guy to drop gloves first but shit happens. Put him in a corner and he’ll hit back. Kent had a rough few years.

He isn’t the martyr type.

Except for Jack.

Except to Jack.

Except that’s not quite right, either, is it? Not anymore!

Jack’s not the guy who can put words together. He can stick to a script. He can trot out platitudes. He’s not the guy to inspire a room. He’s not an off-the-cuff orator. He remembers getting an essay back at Samwell, flipping to the second page to see one word underlined: formulaic. It’s a fair cop. He likes a set play to follow. When he doesn’t have one, things get hard. He shuffles through the lines in his head. He’s not sure what to say. He doesn’t want to leave here without making some effort. He doesn’t need to keep looking like the bigger asshole. He’s image focused, and his self-image as a “good person” is important to him. He got that from his parents.

"I made a mistake throwing away your friendship," he says, finally. This is an apology of sorts, but it’s the wrong one.

Kent sort of shrugs. He’s looking at Jack but Jack can’t tell what he’s thinking. Jack might as well be looking at a stranger. He is looking at a stranger. Eight years is a long time.

He runs his tongue over dry lips and tries to find the right words. They don't come. Maybe there aren’t right words. Maybe this is all there is. If he doesn’t care enough to put in the effort, which he hasn’t, then yes. This is all there is.

Maybe that would be alright. And that is alright.

Jack’s phone buzzes. Your ride is here. Kent’s eyes flick to the screen.

Kent says, slowly, “Maybe you didn’t.” Make a mistake. Maybe you were right to end things. Maybe things are better this way.

Jack wants to ask him to clarify. Maybe I didn’t what? he thinks.

But his ride is here. But he’s out of time.

But in the end, it’s safer not to. Jack is not brave when it comes to interpersonal conflict. 

He shoulders his bag, gives Kent a nod. Kent watches him. Kent doesn’t say anything. Neither does Jack. What’s there for him to say? Good luck? See you soon? Best wishes? It’s been fun? They’ve known each other long enough, Jack thinks, that there’s no need to scrape at pleasantries. Jack is good at excuses.

He catches a glimpse of Kent’s cat in the hallway, luminous eyes like her owner, tail twitching back and forth. Jack lets his eyes slide off her. Jack lets himself out. Kit won this one.

The guy from the party is on the doorstep. Jack remembers his name now, his position, his number. He’s chewing gum like a cow chewing cud. He doesn’t pause to say anything to Jack, just gives him a look up and down. No smile. He catches the door before it swings closed, even though he doesn’t need to: he’s already got keys out. Swoops: the trash is taking itself out. But this is a nod towards the fact that Kent has built a life; Kent does have a support system; Kent does have a future. 

Jack gives him a tight nod. Jack goes to his cab. Jack doesn’t look back to watch him go inside. 

He’s got a life to get back to, and it isn’t this one. I liked this ending line a lot. As is my usual, I wrote this final scene pretty early on. 

It is the author’s opinion that Kent lives happily ever after.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #352

my head’s a mess and a half, i can’t think of lyrics to put here so yeah here’s the survey

What’s the last vegetable you ate, and when did you eat it? Uh I think it was a pepper in this Healthy Choice dinner bowl I had yesterday. What was your last Facebook notification for? A friend liking this photo I shared of some beautiful, small rock and pebble sculptures of people. What bands have you seen live? Just Alice Cooper. Tell me an interesting fact about your mother: She only has one kidney due to the other being taken out because of kidney cancer when I was a kid. Coincidentally, her father was actually born with only one as well. What do you think is the most important thing to happen to you before the age of 13? Nothing really comes to mind. What were you super against as a young child but aren’t anymore? SUPER against? I dunno, man. What are your plans later today? I don't know. Yesterday my mother informed me that Jason's mother died, and since then I've been in shock. I was in awful condition yesterday because I absolutely adore(d) her like she was MY family, and once upon a time I thought she would be officially, and I still feel very, very dead. I doubt I'll get anything done today. Are you doing anything exciting this weekend? Definitely not exciting... Mom and possibly I are probably bringing Jason's family food for the family get-together they're having (we're not staying for... obvious reasons), but she's unsure because it might be a bit too awkward. I'll stay in the car because I don't want to disrespect Jason's space, but I REALLY want to go through with this. His mom was so important to me, and I don't want to just... do nothing as if she meant just that. I want the family to know I never stopped caring just because there was a breakup. Plus I wanna give Jason his favorite chocolate bar to try to bring him a bit of happiness. I can't imagine what he's feeling, and my instinct of "I need to protect him" absolutely never went away. Who do you talk to the most? My mom. What are some things you do regularly that make you feel old? Go to bed before 9PM, sometimes even before 8. And my knees pop like a motherfucker. Who is your best guy friend(s)? Girt and Sam. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker? Neither; instead, I just wish it was clearer. I have extremely dry skin, especially on my arms, so I have little bumps and marks there, as well as little freckles over my body. Having like, porcelain skin would be amaaaazing. If you had a tiny scar on your face, would you get it removed or just keep it? Keep it. Look more badass, haha. Have you had an x-ray in the past year? I think so, on my legs. It may have been over a year ago, idr. Do you think your first love still loves you? I don't want to know. I really don't. What is something that is “going right” in your life? *blinks* When did you feel ready to start dating? Seriously, probably late middle school. When was the last time your pet bit you? If you don’t have a pet, have you ever been bitten by someone else’s? My snake Venus has never bitten me. Meanwhile, my cat Roman lightly (and sometimes not so lightly...) bites me pretty much every day when I play with him, lol. Where were you the last time you made out? My bed. When was the last time you cried tears of joy? I probably haven't done that since I met Sara irl. How do you type your sad smileys? One of these three: :( or :c or :< Do you have “decorative hand-towels” that cannot be used in your house? No. What was the last soda you drank? Mountain Lightning, a Mtn. Dew ripoff bc we're cheap, lol. What was the last thing someone made fun of you for? I don't know. Have you ever had any type of surgery? Yeah, a cyst removal as well as tubes in my ears. Should kids be allowed to get tattoos/piercings without parental consent? Uh no????? Who was the last person to hit on you? That I'm actually aware of, Sara. I'm quite sure nobody has since. What was the last thing you decided not to do, that you were supposed to? I was too weak to even clean the litterbox last night. I just wanted to go to bed. I need to do it today. What’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to tell someone? Hm. Maybe that I didn't love Joel? It was just really awkward and I felt awful about the whole situation. What do you put on hot dogs? Ketchup and mustard. Ever fallen in the shower? I've fallen OUT of the shower. I was extremely dizzy and was trying to get out, and I just passed out onto my chin. Broke some molars and got a concussion. What’s the worst thing you’ve ever called someone you care about? Probably a bitch or something. Do you think that things will get better? I sure hope so. Have you ever legitimately saved a person’s life? I guess I kinda have. My WoW friend Lisa and I were talking, and she wasn't feeling well at all when she suddenly disappeared. Coincidentally, her husband got home RIGHT when I messaged her again, wanting to check up on her, and he heard the alert so checked it out. Lisa was knocked out on the couch having some medical emergency with a name I can't remember, and he just thought she was sleeping. Because of seeing the chat, he took her to the hospital when she probably would've died otherwise. She insists I saved her. What’s your favourite book genre? Fantasy. Have you ever walked out of a movie at the theatre? No. Do dogs like you? They definitely seem to. Animals in general honestly do. Would you say that you project an air of authority? Definitely not. Have you ever jumped off a high dive into a pool? No. I've always wanted to, but I was too scared at any opportunity. Do you use one towel when you shower or two? (one for hair, one for body) I just use one. I dry my hair first, then my body. Have you ever been to one of the great lakes? No, but I did see one of them from a plane when I was flying to Sara's. Who do you know that had a baby recently? My high school friend had her daughter Persephone literally a couple days ago. Cute little thing. Do you like Usher’s songs? Oh wow, what a blast from the past. I don't even recall the names of any, but I remember I enjoyed some as a kid. When was the last time you went to a waterpark? Wow, it has been YEARS. Like, not since I was a teen. Have you ever ridden a train? No. What do you eat your French fries with? Ketchup, sometimes. Do you have family problems? Not really. What’s the last food you ate that was stale? Bread, I think. How do you like your grilled cheese? Just a normal 'ole grilled cheese. What is the most challenging meal you have ever cooked? I don’t cook. What was your favorite thing to do as a little kid? Play video games. Have you ever been close to drowning? Yikes, no. Have you ever had a panic attack? Countless. Do you like doing housework? No, who does? Would you ever get implants? Nah. Do you own a robe? No. Do you have a little sister? What’s her name? Yeah, Nicole. Do you like crust on pizza or do you cut it off? I don't trust people who don't eat pizza crust. What was the last song you listened to? "The Ghost of You" by My Chemical Romance. It's making me cry, but I really need to. Have any of your family members been to jail? No. None that I know of, anyway. Is there anyone that you feel you still need some closure with? An old friend, yes. Can you remember when you first learned how to read? No. What event in your life has transformed your personality the most? My mental illnesses as a whole. Have you ever had any teeth pulled? No. Do you still want to be what you wanted to be in elementary school? No, but only because it's not realistic. I don't want to travel. What’re some TV shows that you would like to get into? I don't care about TV 'til MM resumes, and then absolutely whenever The Edge of Sleep is released. Mark is a key actor in it. How would you feel if you were drafted for the military? I couldn’t be. What is your favorite Queen song? Ha, I'm aware this is probably everyone's answer, but "Bohemian Rhapsody" is the bop of all bops. Do you know how to use any foreign currency? No. Been kissed by someone who you knew was “bad” for you? BEEN kissed, yeah. By Juan. Ever taken an at-home pregnancy test? No. When was the last time you were at a loss of what to do? Now. What did you do on your favorite date with a guy/girl? It was a group date where we went to this big arcade one night. What’s a movie you have seen in the theater more than once? None. What is the reason you’re still alive? That's a big answer that I'm not in the mood to ramble about. Have you ever had sex in someone else’s bed/bedroom? Yeah, oops. Do you ever brush your hair before you go to bed? No. Have you ever had a dream about sleeping with a celebrity? (You don’t have to give details.) HAHA this was the only lucid dream I've ever had lmfao. Has anyone ever told you that they needed you? Do you think they meant it? I don't remember. How did you feel when you woke up today? What was the first thing you thought about? Like shit. "Virginia's still dead" just bitchslapped me. Do you still tell your parents that you love them? Well yeah. Have you ever said “I love you” to someone you weren’t going out with? Yes, because I really did. Have you ever been threatened before? Yes. Would you date someone with a physical disability? Yeah. Think of the last person you had sex with. Do you think they’ve slept with anyone else since they last slept with you? Probably. The last time you dyed your hair, what color did you dye it? Red. Think of the last time you went out to eat. Who paid? My mom. Do you save at least 15 percent of your income? What income? Do you ever go on Reddit? If so, what are some of your favorite subreddits? No. Were you ever a flower girl or ring bearer in anyone’s wedding when you were little? No. Are your parents in good health? Not especially. They're both probably unhealthier than the average person. Dad smokes way too much to be healthy, and Mom has a plethora of issues. Have you ever been a caregiver to a sick/disabled relative? No; it sounds awful, but I'm very doubtful I could be because I canNOT clean another human being. Is there any type of medicine you can’t take? For what reason? No. Do you have a favorite pair of pajamas? What do they look like? They're black Pokemon pants with Pikachu jumping by the logo. Do you have any interesting pillow cases? No. If something on your body hurts, which part is it most likely to be? My knees. Are you more afraid of spiders or bees? Both, but situationally. Have you ever worn fake nails? If so, what did the last pair you wore look like? Only once for prom. They were maroon, like my dress. Wait... or maybe I didn't wear them? Fuck, idr. Is Russian or Native American history more interesting to you? Native American history is way more fascinating to me.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 301: All My Todorokis

Previously on BnHA: We learned that when a bunch of superpowered villains are suddenly set loose with nobody around to stop them, things get fucked pretty quickly. Old Man Samurai and a bunch of other useless people decided to make “I pretend I do not see it” their new mantra, and resigned. Endeavor had a moment of despair on account of being crushed by the guilt of having ruined the lives of himself, his family, and basically everyone else in the entire world. For various reasons the heretical notion of “person who has done bad things feels sorry for doing them” sent fandom spiraling into a meltdown, so that was fun. The chapter ended with the entire Todoroki clan descending upon Enji’s hospital room to have a dramatic chat about Touya and All That General Fuckery.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “here’s the story of how Baby Touya slowly went insane trying to win his father’s love.” It’s a tale full of subverted expectations and heartbreaking inevitability, and also like twenty panels of the cutest fucking kids who ever existed on planet earth, who are so fucking cute that I can’t stop thinking about their cuteness even with all of the horrifying family tragedy unfolding around them. It is absolutely ridiculous how cute they are. Touya is out here pushing his tiny body past its limits because he inherited the same obsession as his dad and neither of them can put it aside even though it’s destroying them, and yet all I can think about is Baby Shouto’s (。･o･｡) face. Anyways what a chapter.

so I have to confess that even though I managed to avoid being caught off-guard by the early leaks, the number of people reblogging my Endeavor posts from earlier this week and using the tag “bnha 301” kind of gave me an inkling that this chapter will include more Tododrama lol. that said, I don’t know anything else about it, so we’re still good spoiler-wise

AHHHHH FLAHSBAKC AHHHH. omg I know I typoed the shit out of that, but I’m just going to leave it lol I think it’s fitting

holy shit holy fuck. so this is Rei and Enji’s first meeting, then??

yepppp, oh shit

so wait, I know this is not even the slightest bit important, but are they meeting at Enji’s home or Rei’s? because I always figured that Enji was the one with the super-Japanese aesthetic, but maybe that was Rei’s side of the family all along

(ETA: from what I found during my very brief google search, omiai meetings are often held at fancy hotels or restaurants, so maybe that’s what this is.)

there’s such a period drama feel to this setting. like it’s so outrageously formal fff how can anyone stand this kind of atmosphere though seriously

OH THANK GOD

I mean they’re still stiff af but at least they’re not rigidly sitting in seiza and staring at each other unblinkingly anymore lol. Enji’s actually got his hands in his pockets now. why is this somehow almost cute

oh damn it’s the flowers

Rei seems so subdued and it’s so hard to get any idea of what she’s actually thinking. I want to see her side of this dammit

but anyway, so at least from Enji’s perspective it seems like even though the marriage was arranged and he picked her because of her quirk, he still loved his wife and wanted to do right by her. the fact that he was watching her and noticed that she liked the flowers, and remembered that detail for all these years -- there’s a reason why Horikoshi’s showing us this. we know what’s going to happen later on; we know how much fear and violence and breaking of trust is coming up ahead, and while it may seem like this scene is serving to soften Enji’s character further -- which to be fair it is -- it also helps drive home the full impact of his abuse. that it’s so terrible not only because of the trauma of the abuse itself, but also because of the way it retroactively destroys all of the good things as well. this could have potentially been such a sweet scene, but it’s inescapably tainted by the knowledge of what’s to come, at least for me. and that’s just brutal

anyways, shit. is the whole chapter going to be like this?? feel free to toss in something I can actually make a joke about sometime, Horikoshi

oop, back to the present

omfg lol

“are you all right” “NO I’M NOT ALL RIGHT WHAT THE FUCK.” “oh, right, because of all the stuff that’s happened with me abusing you and you having a mental breakdown and being hospitalized for ten years and then our son coming back to life and killing thirty people, right, right. I almost forgot.” whoops

omfg you guys I’m loving this new and improved steely-eyed Rei. I’m loving her a lot

and what do you mean “part one” fkjds how long is this going to be. TOO MUCH DRAMA FOR ONE CHAPTER TO HANDLE

oh, hello

yeah I’ll say you did. didn’t seem to bother you much at the time, though

HMMMMMMMMMMMM

Dabi Is A Noumu intensifies even further. anyways though would you fucking look at this boy lounging on this moth-eaten couch doing his best DRAW ME LIKE YOUR FRENCH GIRLS impression wtf

Dabi what if you actually had killed him??? what would you feel?? satisfaction?? regret?? anything at all?? tell me your secrets goddammit

who are you talking to buddy

Fuyumi-chan, Natsu-kun (is it common for brothers to address each other as -kun?? can’t recall seeing that in many other anime, but hey), and “dot dot dot,,,,,, SHOUTO” lol thank you so much for this bountiful heaping of Tododrama Horikoshi we are blessed

AH, WHAT DID I SAY THE OTHER DAY

ULTIMATE MELODRAMATIC THEATER CHILD. “I’M JUST GOING TO LIE ON THIS COUCH SHIRTLESS AND ALONE AND MAKE SPEECHES TO MY FAMILY MEMBERS WHO AREN’T THERE AND SAY THINGS LIKE ‘WATCH ME IN THE PITS OF HELL’ WITH A STRAIGHT FACE BECAUSE NO ONE’S THERE TO JUDGE ME.” WELL JOKE’S ON YOU MISTER CHATTERBOX BECAUSE I AM IN FACT JUDGING THE SHIT OUT OF YOU LOL

(ETA: and on a more serious note, it’s interesting to see that “look at me”/”watch me” theme being used again though, because we see that same sentiment uttered repeatedly by the younger Touya in the flashback. well kid, you definitely got your wish at last. don’t know what else to say.)

OKAY HORIKOSHI HAS DECIDED THAT’S ENOUGH FUN, TIME FOR MORE FLASHBACKS

oh my sweet precious lord

just as cute as we left him. giving us a child this cute when we all know full well what’s going to happen to him is just unspeakably cruel though

HOMG

I’m fucking speechless. you broke me, congratulations. what am I even supposed to do with this

I can’t get over this. moving forward my life will be split into two distinct parts, B.P. (Before the Pout) and A.P. (After the Pout)

and meanwhile there’s ALL THIS BACKGROUND ANGST BUILDING UP, AND I CAN’T EVEN FOCUS ON IT. Touya’s arm and cheek are covered in bandages (I’m guessing this is shortly after that “ouch!” panel we got some chapters back), and Enji is deliberately avoiding training with him because he doesn’t want him to hurt himself further. I can’t fucking get over the irony that all this time everyone thought Touya had died because Enji pushed him too far in his training, and it turns out that it’s the opposite -- the tragedy ultimately happened because he didn’t want to push him. but I’m jumping ahead of myself though I guess

by the way,

remember this?? just wanted to remind you that it exists just in case you forgot

so now someone is talking and basically saying that Touya is the exact opposite of what Enji was hoping for when he decided to start playing with quirk genetics

-- okay hold up

...lol no, never mind. for a second I thought “holy shit he looks kind of familiar WHAT IF IT’S UJIKO OMG” before I remembered that Enji would have recognized him during the hospital capture mission if that was the case. so NEVER MIND, PROCEED

IMAGINE THAT, ENJI DOESN’T QUITE SEEM SATISFIED WITH THIS SUGGESTION OF QUITTING NOW

(ETA: how the fuck did this man go around saving 62 towns in a single day what even is All Might.)

[clicks tongue several times] trouble a’brewin’

MEANWHILE BABY TOUYA HAS UNFORTUNATELY INHERITED HIS DAD’S STUBBORN STREAK

KLDIHWOEIJFL:KSDJ

!!!!!!!!!!!

oh my god. oh my god. what is this chapter. WHAT IS IT

so now Touya is all “YOU JUST DON’T UNDERSTAND MY MANLY DESIRE TO BURN MYSELF ALIVE” well you got her there champ

THEY’RE TOO CUTE. OH MY GOD. HIS FURIOUS LITTLE TEARS. HER CHUBBY LIL FACE. HIS STUBBY LIL FISTS. SOMEONE HELP ME

also are they just home alone lol or what. “hey Touya, you’re what, like six now?? do us a favor and look after your baby sister for a couple hours for us would you? make sure not to set yourself on fire or anything.” WHAT COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG!!

now it’s nighttime and Enji and Rei are arguing, presumably about his decision not to train Touya anymore

whew. okay. so, a couple of things here

1. first of all I think this conclusively shows that Enji really was trying to do the best he could for Touya. he stopped training him as soon as he realized it was hurting him, but Touya was still determined so he tried to make it work anyway, and even visited doctors to try and figure out if there was anything they could do. then, once they were absolutely sure that it wasn’t going to work, he tried multiple times to explain to Touya why they had to stop. he didn’t just abandon him out of the blue, which is really important to note. “no matter how much I tried telling him...”

so yeah, that debunks another common fandom accusation. so by the time he finally makes this decision, which we all know is going to turn out horribly, it’s basically because he’s already tried everything else he could think of. which, by the way, still doesn’t mean he handled this right. but at the very least he was taking Touya’s feelings into account and he was trying, and he didn’t just abruptly toss his son aside (at least not yet)

2. buuuut, then there’s this panel right below all that

which is the other side of it. if he’d just quit like the doctor person advised him to, that would have been the end of it. Touya would still have been upset, but he would have eventually gotten over it and the family would have moved on and possibly even been happy. but what happens next happens because Enji can’t let go. he still has this maddening urge to surpass All Might, and so he and Rei keep having more children, and then Shouto is born, and Enji finally has a kid he can start projecting all of his hysterical ambitions onto once again, and everything starts spiraling out of control soon after

though p.s. none of that is Shouto’s fault though!! he’s one of the few good things to come out of this whole mess and I’m very happy that he exists. the tragedy is that his dad fucking lost his mind over his quirk and fucked everything up. but that’s on him, not Touya or Shouto

anyways, SLKFJLSHGLKJL

I CAN’T FUCKING TAKE THIS YOU GUYS??? LOOK AT THAT LIL BUTTON OF A NOSE??? I’M LOSING IT HERE???

AND TOUYA JUST SEEMS DEVASTATED OMG

because children aren’t stupid, after all. he understands that his dad is still looking to surpass All Might. and so he feels like a failure, and feels like his dad is trying to replace him because he wasn’t good enough. and even now, isn’t that what the adult Touya is trying to prove?? that he was good enough after all?? “I’ll show you what happens when you give up on me, dad”?? “I’ll show you what I can do”?? fuck my life fuck everything

AND YOU CAN SEE THE TOLL THAT IT’S ALL TAKING ON REI GETTING WORSE AND WORSE AS WELL OH GOD

really nice touch here with the panel outlines becoming all shimmery from the heat of Endeavor’s flames (and/or becoming more unstable as the family gets closer and closer to their breaking point). but man, Horikoshi I can’t handle this, please show us more cute kids or something I can’t

GKELKWFJLDKSHFLKL

WITTLE BABE. BEEB. BUBS. SMOL. lkj; oh ouch a piece of my heart just detached and latched onto him huh look at that

TODOROKI “I’M SO SMALL AND I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT’S GOING ON AND I DIDN’T ASK TO BE HERE” SHOUTO AHHHHH

crazy how they all just seem to know right off the bat lol. kid doesn’t even have object permanence yet, let alone a quirk. but do they care?? IT’S THE HAIR, RIGHT. WE’RE ALL THINKING IT, I’M JUST GONNA COME OUT AND SAY IT. they knew the minute they looked at him lol

AND MEANWHILE TOUYA IS OFF HAVING UNSUPERVISED TRAINING/CRYING SESSIONS IN THE MOUNTAINS OR WHATEVER, AND, UH OH

are those blue flames yet?? they seem pretty close

(ETA: this is one of the few cases where the manga being in black and white is infuriating lol.)

OH MY GOD AND STILL

so it’s not like he was so disinterested that he didn’t notice what was happening, and he was still trying to stop it and get through to him. trying to reassure him that it wasn’t the end of the world and there were other things he could do with his life, but this one particular thing just wasn’t going to happen

fucking hell. it’s agonizing seeing how close they actually were to fixing it. if he’d only said the right words, or if he’d realized at this point how destructive his obsession could be to his kids, and backed off from putting that same pressure on Shouto. we came so close to possibly having a happy ending

AND ALSO THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH ANYTHING BUT PLEASE LOOK AT HOW TOUYA IS LIKE THREE AND A HALF FEET TALL AND HIS DAD IS LIKE NINE AND A HALF FEET. Touya barely comes past his knees flkjlkg. the Todoroki household must have been so filled with like plastic stepstools to reach the bathroom sink and all the little baby toothbrushes, and baby gates to keep the kiddos out of the important grown-up rooms and stuff. and also days-old half-empty cups of water and stale crackers and hot wheels and my little ponies strewn everywhere

“BUT EVERYONE AT SCHOOL SAYS THEY’RE GONNA BE HEROES” a wild Deku parallel appears?? how bout that

I know this is like a pivotal moment in the Todo Tragedy and all, but fucking look at this lil dumpling

“sup bro, it’s me, the manifestation of your fears of inadequacy and lack of fatherly affections. a GAAA. ba-baAA-baa [gurgling baby sounds]”

OHHHHH IT’S THE SOUND OF MY HEART BREAKING OH NO

HE WANTS TO BE LIKE YOU ENJI. good lord somebody please just get this family some therapy

“DAD YOU IGNITED IT IN ME” flkjslkj nope, nope. not ready for this pain here

baby Shouto, would you like to weigh in on this affair? “DA!! ba-ga-daaa, [pacifier chewing noises]” oh my, you don’t say. so insightful for one so young

OH MY GODDDDDD

IT’S SO DRAMATIC BUT ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT ARE THE SHOUNEN WOOSH LINES SURROUNDING FOUR-MONTH-OLD SHOUTO LOL HE WAS LIKE THIS FROM BIRTH OH MY GOD I AM DYING HELP

SHOUTO YOU’RE RUINING THIS ENTIRE CHAPTER!?!?!

“yo, the fuck kind of family was I fucking born into” oh, son. if you only knew. IF YOU ONLY KNEW!!

(ETA: lmao I got so distracted by the ridiculous cuteness that I glossed over the fact that Baby Touya seems to possibly be aiming at him?? it’s hard to tell because he’s also super out of it from heatstroke and may just be losing control in his attempt to show off his upgrade.)

ANYWAY THAT’S THE END EXCEPT WHAT’S THIS LAST LINE OMG

ffffff. and we’re in for ANOTHER chapter of this next week?? MORE drama?? MORE BABIES?? MORE OF EIGHT-YEAR-OLD TOUYA’S SLOW DESCENT INTO MADNESS. MY HEART CAN’T TAKE IT, BUT ALSO YES PLEASE SIGN ME UP

[tsipasce]

Same Difference Ch. 13

A/N: sorry for the late upload for anyone following, I’ve been pretty lax on uploading on here bc of the low interaction with these posts (I think like 3 people read this, maybe lol). But I’m going to try and upload them here just in case. 

Chapters: 01  |  02 |  03 |  04 | 05  | 06 | 07 | 08 |  09 |  10 |  11 | 12

AO3 | FFN

 “We need to talk. Now.”

“Yes. That’s why we’re on the phone.”

“We don’t have time for games today. You need to come to the base immediately.”

She’d recognize that “not now, Nanami” tone anywhere. Whatever it was, it was serious. Switching gears mentally to brace for the impending shitstorm, she exhaled,” Give me 30 minutes.”

“20.”

“What? That’s not even realisti—” she stopped, hearing the phone click. Rolling her eyes, she watched her friend exit the post office and walk over to the car.

“So, I say we go to that new brunch place first and then—wait what’s wrong?” Hitomi pivoted recognizing her friend was much less enthused than when she’d left. Nanami turned to her, an apologetic look on her face. “The hospital has you on-call again, huh?”

“Duty calls, sadly.” She felt bad about lying, but knew she’d feel worse if Hitomi got caught up in her mess. “Though I don’t know how long it’ll take so we might be able to salvage the day.”

“No, it’s ok, I understand. Take your time, we can always hang tomorrow or later in the week. When do you need to be there?”

“… in 20 minutes.”

“That’s unrealistic.”

“That’s what I tried to tell hi—I mean them, but it’s an emergency. Mind dropping me off at my house?”

“You got it. I’ll drive, you watch for cops.” Before Nanami could protest, Hitomi screeched out of the parking lot and back down the road they came.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 Waving bye to her friend, Nanami hurriedly grabbed her keys and work bag just in case the talk carried over to lab work. Running down to her car, she sped over to the base, basically rolling out of the car when she arrived as there were only 5 minutes to spare. Hearing a noise, she reflexively turned to look but continued running forward. Suddenly she felt herself run into a solid figure as she bounced back, falling onto her soon-to-be-late keester. Regaining her bearings, she looked up and saw an older gentleman in traditional attire, his hair slicked back and his face serious.

“Oh my gosh I am so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going,” she apologized, giving him an earnest look.

He paused for a beat before giving her a kind smile, offering his hand to help her up, “That’s alright miss, no need to apologize. Where are you off to in such a hurry anyway?”

Crap, how do I get out of this one… she strategized inwardly on how to answer the question discreetly without sounding rude. “Oh nowhere, I just have to… make a house call! I’m a doctor, and my patient’s a massive germaphobe; very needy, you see.” She laughed awkwardly, hoping he bought it.

At her last comment, she could’ve sworn she saw a look of recognition flash across his face, but figured it was her imagination. “Oh, I see. Well he’s a lucky man to have you. As such an attentive caretaker, I mean. I won’t hold you up any longer, have a nice day Dr… what did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t.” She smiled, “You have a nice day too!” She said as she continued her jog to the base. She looked back to see him waving, returning it as she rounded the corner. Well that was close.

Once at the front gate, the door opened before she knocked, an irritated Overhaul waiting on the other side. “What took you so long. I said 20.”

“And I was going to say that was unrealistic before you rudely hung up on me. Besides, I would’ve actually gotten here on time if not for your friendly neighbors. I don’t know how the HOA of this neighborhood decided to let you of all people in. Everyone else seems so nice.” She pouted.

“What are you rambling about?”

“Your neighbor? I ran into an old man outside—I didn’t tell him where I was going or why I was here, obviously—but he seemed nice, if not a tad nosey.”

At this she saw him pause, “… What did he say to you?” The question much meeker than the last.

“Uhm, I bumped into him by accident, so he just asked where I was going, told me to have a nice day... oh! Also, how lucky you are to have me. You know, obvious stuff.” His brows raised before she quickly clarified the last statement, “As a doctor! I told him I was your doctor. He was pretty nonchalant about the whole thing.”

Though he donned his usual mask, she could tell his features had softened at whatever he was thinking. She’d even bet there was a small smile forming, but at what she wasn’t sure, “Hm, I see. Well, there’s no use in loitering around, let’s go.”

“Well you’re the one that stopped but ok” she said under her breath. He turned, giving her a warning look as she shrugged, raising her hands in faux surrender.

They continued down the usual pathway in the underground base before reaching his office and passing it, going down a hallway she wasn’t familiar with. It gradually became much darker the further they went, and the air temperature felt as though it had dropped at least 10 degrees, almost causing her to shiver. After what felt like an indefinite amount of time they arrived at a door, but before Overhaul could reach the handle, it opened, a panicked Kurono standing in the doorway.

“He had a pill.”

Looking past him, Nanami could see the assailant from the night before. Though he was savagely beaten, it was apparent he’d killed himself with whatever pill was hidden in his mouth as foam was formed around it, his body still going through its final convulsions. Working in a large hospital, she’d seen her fair share of people dying, but to say it got any easier would be a half-truth. The vision was familiar, but it was still unpleasant, no matter who it was. In contrast, Overhaul seemed irritated for a second before realizing something and returning to his stoic expression.

“No matter, we got all we needed from him anyway. Follow me,” he directed at her as he left the room and Kurono to dispose of the body. Nanami somberly followed, mentally giving the man a moment of silence. Whatever happened, she knew the importance of remaining objective in the presence of death. There might come a time when she’d make some bad decisions herself—to put it ever so lightly— and she hoped whoever was there in her last moments wouldn’t relish in her death either. They arrived at the door of his office, the clicking of the handle rousing her from her thoughts. He sat down across from her on one couch as she sat on the other, now feeling a bit out of place in her casual attire.

“It seems you have a price on your head.”

“Hm?” Nanami squeaked, her face that of disbelief.

“The lackeys that tried to take you were sent by the head of the Okumura clan, a rival organization. He seems sure you have a unique ability and learning of our partnership only seemed to confirm this.”

“Bu…But I was so careful. I don’t talk to anyone about us, I take weird routes every time I come here, I always use the burner ph—“ she began frantically before he cut in.

“You were not at fault for this. One of the new recruits was abducted. He didn’t know much, but he gave enough information to pique their interest.”

“And what happened to him?”

He was surprised at the question, but answered anyway, “He was set free after the questioning.”

“Well where is he now? Maybe he can tell us something useful about them and what else they want.”

“He’s no longer with us.”

“… Like he quit?”

“…”

“Overhaul.”

“… As I said, he’s no longer with us.” They stared at each other, Nanami now knowing the “snitches get stitches” saying to be only half true. Something tells me stiches wouldn’t help him now… She sighed, his blank expression unwavering as he continued, “Also, there is no ‘us’ when it comes to you and I and the Okumura. You will stay here until this problem is solved.”

“I’m gonna do what now?”

“You heard me. Your apartment is no longer safe. Considering they probably expected to see their men return last night with you captured, they will undoubtedly send more to finish the job.”

She opened her mouth to speak before closing it again. She knew it wasn’t safe to stay at her place, but staying at the base was just a lot, especially if her assumption about not being able to leave was correct. “Ok, but I have work and a life. Am I just supposed to hide here and put all that on hold?”

“Would you rather put it on hold or have it all end?”

“…That’s not fair.”

“Most things aren’t.”

She shifted in her seat biting her lip, realizing she was losing the argument. Every counter she came up with she mentally shot down before speaking it. I could stay at Hitomi’s house? No, they’d just follow me there and attack her too, or worse… I could stay at home and defend my place? Except they wouldn’t stop coming. My place would be trashed and then the neighbors would find out...I could...

“I could go in myself and get them. It’s my head they’re after, I’ll just have to convince them it’s not worth the trouble.”

He gave her a pitiable look, knowing the suggestion was equal parts blind bravery and desperation, “Your training with Rappa has made you a capable fighter, but are you really prepared to kill another person, permanently? Dozens of them? Simply maiming them wouldn’t be enough, they’d keep coming until…” He paused as he saw her look down in defeat, her fists clenched in her lap, her jaw tightening. She was angry—mad as hell—but she knew he was right. She was a fighter, not a killer, and no amount of training could change that overnight. She knew the logical solution to the problem, but her nature wouldn’t allow her to solve it. Seated across from her, his head tilted as he gazed at her pensively. Overhaul couldn’t figure out why but seeing her so upset was… unpleasant. He wanted nothing more than to make it stop, though the motivation behind the action remained a mystery. “Dr. Watanabe,” He continued slightly softer than before, her fists unclenching for a moment at the change in tone, “Your strengths lie elsewhere. Strategically, it makes the most sense for you to be here. It will only be for two weeks.”

“Two weeks?” Nanami could tell he was trying, but the frustration with the situation lingered. Attempting to calm herself and accept reality, she finally managed to respond,” Can I at least get my stuff first?”

“Yes, but let’s be quick about it.”

“’Let’s?”

“You didn’t really think you were going alone, did you?”

“No!... Well, yes. Fine, let’s go.”

[farahfaye]

HOT TAKE: Deadly Illusions

Watch if you need something that will simultaneously make you laugh unintentionally & fuck up your head. 3/10 

My first reaction when thinking about this movie is, “what the actual fuck?” I was intrigued by the movie title, mostly because I saw a snippet on Tik Tok, and also because I had never seen Kristin Davis in anything other than SATC. So, since I had a free afternoon (LOL all my afternoons are free but nvm) – and despite that Rotten Tomatoes rated it something like a 25% - I fell into the whirlpool that is Deadly Illusions. 

Alright, so you follow along Kristin Davis’ character, a writer who lives in a weird concrete house with floor to ceiling windows - which, for some reason, is an ominous symbol almost always but they’re so pretty!!! Anyway, she’s a mother of twins and her husband is that guy who plays an escort for Debra Messing in that 2000’s movie. She gets offered like millions of dollars to write a book, which, she tells her friend, VERONICA FROM SHAMELESS (in what dimension are these two friends), she doesn’t want to do because she becomes a different person when she writes. BUT mister escort invests all their money into something weird and tells her while she’s smoking a cigar after sex, which is just totally unrealistic timing, and so she reluctantly decides to write the book. ALSO who the hell is she, Tony Soprano? Cigars???

Kristin hires a nanny - this blonde girl who looks fucking weird from the beginning and rides her bicycle which we’re supposed to apparently find charming (HINT: it’s not) - and everything is lollipops and rainbows for a bit. Blondie takes care of the kids and makes Kristin love her because she likes books and clearly that’s such a ~ rare trait ~ in a person. 

SO Kristin is a writer & smokes cigars; Mister Escort is a businessman who made a shitty investment; Blondie takes care of the kids; Veronica from Shameless is Kristin’s BFF. With me?

OK so Kristin starts to get the hots for Blondie. She tells Veronica at some bougie gym that she thinks Blondie acts like “two different people” – wow so original, the innocent & not-so-innocent sides of a nanny – but she is probably just being weird because she’s writing a book. Veronica says, “hey maybe you’re actually a lesbian” and probably if this were Shameless that would be the truth. But, my friends, this is not Shameless. This is psycho-land. 

Cut to scenes of Blondie sucking on Kristin’s nipple (????), skinny dipping, more cigar smoking, making out in some field, sex in the pantry. All the while, the audience doesn’t know if this is real or not or if Kristin is fantasizing or straight-up hallucinating. APPARENTLY Mister Escort engages with a BDSM-type role play with Blondie that Kristin “sees” but we, again, aren’t sure. Kristin confronts him on this during dinner (in front of the children – poor choice), no one knows what the fuck is going on, what’s real, what’s fantasy, and why the fuck we’re still watching this movie.

Next thing you know, Veronica is dead, people think Kristin did it, Kristin decides to find out who the fuck Blondie REALLY is, finds out Blondie was held captive by her parents & lives with her split-personality aunt (is it supposed to be dissociative identity disorder? I don’t know); Killer Blondie shows up, because apparently it runs in the family, knives Mister Escort, Kristin & her duke it out. The kids are locked up in some room – very nice of Killer Blondie to do, btw – and Kristin slams a very expensive looking vase on Killer Blondie’s head. 

STILL NOT THE END. Kristin writes her book – which, at this point, we realize is similar to the whirlwind of her reality which is why everyone accused Kristin of killing Veronica – Mister Escort is alive and running with the children, and Blondie is locked up in a mental hospital. We assume Blondie’s split personality killed Veronica, and she’s being treated for her mental illness. THEN WE SEE THE SAME PERSON WHO WAS CAUGHT ON VIDEOTAPE AFTER KILLING VERONICA LEAVING THE MENTAL HOSPITAL AND THERE IS NO CLUE AS TO WHO THE FUCK IT IS – KRISTIN OR BLONDIE.

Personally, I felt victimized, mostly, even though I do appreciate a distrustful narrator. Trust me, I love being mind-fucked, but I had a hard time with a non-emotive Kristin Davis showing us how to feel, when we couldn’t tell how she felt. Maybe that’s the point??? Honestly, it mostly felt like a shitty episode of Days of Our Lives that’s taking itself too seriously. The fucked up ending was like a Molotov cocktail being thrown into an abandoned building – was it really necessary? 

But the biggest question I keep asking myself is – why the hell was Kristin smoking cigars?