#but i just seemed to be delayed over and over again on the whole teen development years deal

[rayvern-sheep]

hmm

feel like I've lost myself somewhere but not sure where and what to do about it

[brucewaynehater101]

When the others inevitably find out about the warped dynamic between Tim and Bruce they decide to completely take advantage of it and tell Tim that they’re planning on going out

And tim sees them as his siblings or distant relatives so he doesn’t really think that he needs to give them permission or that he has any authority over them so he just nods and tells them to be safe

When they get caught by Bruce they just immediately throw Tim under the bus by saying that he said they could go and Tim is realizing that his siblings are exploiting the loophole that is Tim and must work his way out of this blunder

Alright. Brilliant. However, here's how I'm imaging the scene to play out:

~~~

Damian has been glaring at Tim for the last thirteen minutes. Tim has been steadfast in ignoring whatever weird intimidation technique the kid is trying to pull with him. As he's taken to most of the batkids, he sticks to the motto, "it's not my business until it is."

The best part about that motto is how vague it is so Tim can shape it to whatever aim he pleases. It works for him, and it works against everyone else (unless it's Duke. The teen ruthlessly utilizes the loophole of making whatever situation he needs Tim for into Tim's problem).

Regardless, Tim has been clacking away at Neon Knights paperwork while Damian stares at Tim without blinking. An idle thought of Tim's almost makes him navigate to LoA servers to check their training programs (thirteen whole minutes without blinking???), but his willpower is strong enough to ignore it.

"Timothy."

Tim immediately closes his laptop and whips around to Damian.

Did the little gremlin actually refer to Tim by his first name?

Tim's fingers twitch with the urge to perform an injury check on the kid, but he refrains. Damian seems fine.

Well... besides the unblinking stare for thirteen minutes and the first name. Maybe Tim should perform tha-

"Colin and I would like to go to the zoo on Saturday, Timothy."

Tim's thoughts snap back to present at the confusing series of events that are playing out. He clocks the kid's clenched teeth, his hesitancy to even utter any words, the delayed conversation, the first name usage, the way Damian's eyes betray irritation and anticipation, his strict posture, and the way Damian's hands are clasped behind his back. It's a confusing set of clues laid out before Tim, and he can only come to one conclusion.

Damian is reaching out and offering an olive branch. He's offering random information in his socially stunted way of bonding.

Tim allows a soft smile to appear on his face as he nods. "Are there any animals in particular you want to see?"

Damian's eyebrow furrow, but he does answer the question. "Richard has prattled on about the elegance of elephants. Colin is partial to the tigers."

While that didn't necessarily answer the question, Tim offers him a nod. "I particularly enjoy their bird enclosures. They allow you to walk inside some of them as they fly around you."

Damian's eyes gain a concerning gleam to them, but Tim just hopes this bonding exercise brings them closer together. It's been hectic in the Manor ever since the other Bats found out about the true nature of his relationship with Bruce. It's not as huge of a deal as they seem to be making of it.

Tim grabs his laptop, places it on his lap, and pries it open again. "I hope you guys have fun at the zoo."

By the soft and intentional putter of feet, Tim can hear Damian walking away. "Thank you, Timothy."

"You're welcome, Dames."

Tim finds out Saturday night, when the batcave is filled with 3 tigers, 6 elephants, and so many birds, what Damian actual meant by him going to the zoo. Bruce is furious, several of the Batkids are laughing, and Tim is quietly hiding his amusement as well.

Or he was until Damian explained that Tim had given him permission to do it and even told him to grab all the birds.

[thepenguinweeb]

`` You can't do that. Not a good idea. ``

[ ☆ Gojo x reader ]

[ ☆ Neither of you like the other. You find him stuck-up, he finds you annoying. So why is it that he finds himself enjoying your company more and more each day? ]

[ aka; enemies to lovers ]

[ Notes: this is specifically about teen Gojo :D ]

Gojo has disliked you ever since he heard you insulting him while talking to your friends.

"So, Gojo-senpai.. what do you think of him?"

"I don't know. He seems too arrogant and stuck-up for me to like him. I know he's strong and all, but he's just.. irritating."

That was a massive damage to his ego. So from that point on, he vowed to be your worst rival and enemy.. without you knowing.

Occasional rude remarks, small pranks, it was harmless for the most part. But despite his satisfaction at seeing your annoyance whenever he did something, he still had an empty feeling in his heart.

Somehow, he found himself no longer wanting to just annoy you. He wanted your approval, your praise, to hear you admit he's a good person.

And so, he thought the only way he could get that was trough being a show-off.

But however hard he tried to impress you with his powers, or money, you still didn't seem interested.

What annoyed him the most, though, was you getting closer with his best friend.

Gojo sat at a table, tapping his fingers to the wood impatiently. Suguru was supposed to arrive by now, and yet he was nowhere to be seen.

What's taking him so long?

He noticed the black-haired man from the corner of his eyes soon enough. "Suguru!" He waved to get his attention. "Over here!"

While his friend sat down, Gojo noticed something in his hands which piqued his curiousity. Flowers. Beautiful ones.

"What's that for?" He asked, pointing to the bouqet in his hands. "You wanna ask someone on a date, or something?"

Geto chuckled awkwardly and nodded. "Well, yes, actually.. They're for [Y/N]-san."

Gojo's eyes widened as he heard those words. He knew you'd been getting close to him, but not this close!

More importantly, why did he feel the urge to stop this?

"I- what?" He managed to ask as he crossed his arms. "You can't do that. Not a good idea."

Geto lookwd back at his friend with a confused expression. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you know.. [Y/N] is quite popular. I hear they get tons of confessions every day. It would be a risky move. Also," he pointed at the flowers again, "aren't they allergic to those?"

"They are?" The black-haired sorcerer questioned, his expression softening. He put a hand on his cheek in slight embarrasement. "I wasn't aware. I'll get them new ones."

Of course, the whole allergy thing was just a bullshit excuse to delay this confession as much as he could.

"Thanks for the help, Satoru."

It stung so badly to lie to his best friend. His only friend. But he would make it up somehow, he was sure.

"Uh, yeah, it's nothing."

He could see you pass by in the distance, and he swore he stared for longer than usual.

He knew Geto wouldn't be too happy.. but he had to confess to you before he could.

A/N: Cliffhanger! Also yeah my first non-bsd post, shocker, I know. I honestly feel like I didn't do my man justice but lmk! Maybe I'll make a part 2 if ppl are interested

Dividers by @/rookthornesartistry tyy!

[needfantasticstories]

3 excerpts from a WIP dedicated to @la-sera and her gorgeous Downfall Duo Art

(The whole thing is long, so I wanted to share the parts you'd probably like best.)

1 - Chain vs Ghirahim and Yiga Clan

2 - Legend goes crazy looking for Rulie

3 - Delayed reunion with Rulie

Blood and Blade (4820 words) by SkipBreaker Chapters: 1/? Fandom: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Sky/Sun (Linked Universe), Flora/Wild (Linked Universe), Malon (Legend of Zelda)/Time (Linked Universe) Characters: Sky (Linked Universe), Wild (Linked Universe), Hyrule (Linked Universe), Time (Linked Universe), Link (Legend of Zelda), Wind (Linked Universe), Warriors (Linked Universe), Twilight (Linked Universe), Yiga Clan (Legend of Zelda), Ghirahim (Legend of Zelda) Additional Tags: Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda), Sky (Linked Universe)-centric, Hyrule (Linked Universe) Needs a Hug, Sky (Linked Universe) Has a Bad Time, BAMF Legend (Linked Universe), Ghirahim Being Ghirahim (Legend of Zelda), Hyrule (Linked Universe) Has a Bad Time, Hyrule (Linked Universe) Has a Blood Curse, Good Older Sibling Warriors (Linked Universe), Mentioned Cia (Legend of Zelda) Series: Part 2 of WildSkyRule Summary: Ghirahim continues his quest to revive his master. Others have the same goal.

In Wild's Hyrule

“Traveler! Legend!” Four shouted in warning. 

“Oh look, I’ve found a little bird,” Ghirahim laughed. 

Legend? Sky turned to see Legend on the ground, knocked on his back by two pillars of earth the Yiga blademasters had shot up from the ground. They lifted their blades to strike him, but Legend was already swinging his leg to sweep their feet. He seemed to be holding his own. So who… 

Another shout from the road nearby, far more desperate, drew his eye. 

"Traveler!" Sky yelled. His heart beat too fast, the sound pounding in his ears. 

 Hyrule struggled desperately, pinned against the demon’s chest. The young traveler’s shield magic barely kept the barrage of black diamond blades at bay, but he was quickly wearing out from the effort. 

“Let him go!” Sky screamed as Ghirahim slowly stepped backwards, “Rulie! Thunder!”

One of Ghirahim’s arms released Hyrule as he reached for something at his side, giving Hyrule just enough room to slip an arm out and raise it high to cast Thunder. 

But the demon yanked his hand back and looped thin, crimson ropes over his wrists with rapid precision, like a spider weaving silk on a fly. 

“No!”  Legend yelled when he toppled both Blademasters and saw his successor, his little brother, trapped.  

Hyrule gasped and writhed as the red rope touched him, and tightened. Sparks of his Thunder spell fizzled and died as it throbbed with dark purple light. 

Hyrule grew pale and his eyelids drooped, half-closed, as magic drained from him. The rope cinched his wrists tighter together as the daggers turned outward, circling defensively around the demon and his prey. 

“Get off him!” Legend roared, but red flashes appeared in a circle around the Vet. When he tried to run past, two Yiga soldiers intercepted his path before he could gain enough speed with even a single step, and they shoved him back into the Blademasters. They wrestled him, grappling over tempered blade

“No!” Hyrule yelled, his eyes flashed open in terror for Legend before drooping again as the red ropes pulsed.

“What do you want with them?” Twilight demanded, searching the demon’s barrier for weak points and finding none. Goddesses, I miss Midna! She would strangle this clown and we’d be halfway to the stable by now.

“Oh, they don’t know about your ability, little fairy?” Ghirahim crooned in Hyrule’s ear. 

Hyrule closed his eyes tight, trying to hide his terror. He shook his head, then yelled as fast as he could, “He wants my bl–mmmph!” His words cut off as Ghirahim clapped a spindly hand over his mouth and chin. 

“You really never told them! Ha ha ha! How fortunate! I suppose that will be a mystery for the heroes to puzzle over on their own.”

“His blood revives Gannon!” Legend finished for him, and found two more huge Blademasters between him and the other Links.

There was no time to process.

Wild shot three arrows at the tall demon’s head. With a flippant wave of his fingers, the hovering knives transformed into a shimmering barrier and blocked them. 

Wild switched arrows. If ever there was ever a time to use his last ancient arrow, untouched since his fight with Gannon, it was now.

 “We need to get over there!” Wild yelled, knocking the arrow and swapping for Revali’s bow. Yet each time they tried to push closer, the Yiga rushed for Wild and the others stopped to defend him. 

Wild found an opening at last, and aimed for Ghirahim’s head, exhaled, and released the ancient arrow. 

A Yiga footsoldier appeared in the ancient arrow’s path. The soldier disappeared while the rest charged. Growling, Wild pulled out electric arrows instead. At least he had 200 of those. 

Throughout this, Legend wrestled his attackers, resisting them as much as they pressed him back, his power bracelets a force equal to their size. He kept them so off-balance that each slice and stab missed, and his boots dragged them quickly at whiplash speeds, steadily moving closer to Hyrule, but the assassins clung to him desperately, grappling for his arms. Wild and Twilight tried to pick off attackers, but Legend lurched unpredictably.

As he stopped to breathe, three fresh Yiga Blademasters appeared beside Legend and the four surviving attackers. 

Twilight, Wind and Four reached them at the same moment. 

“Subdue him already, fools,” The demon groused to the Yiga soldiers.

The Links redoubled their efforts to reach the pair.

Sky looked back to Hyrule, who had slumped in the demon's arms.

“Coward!” Sky yelled, breaking from Wild, Warrior, and Time.

“So much magic in this one, Skychild!” Ghirahim sang from another direction. He disappeared from the back of their group to the crossroad far ahead. He hefted the now unconscious teen in his arms.

“No!” Sky roared, just as lightning finally flashed above and struck the sword, but in the same instant Ghirahim and Hyrule had vanished in a cloud of obsidian diamonds. His skyward strike flew through empty air. 

Always too late, Sky thought. He felt sick. Couldn’t breathe. 

“Rulie!” Legend yelled, but the distraction cost him. The Yiga swarmed him like ants. One Blademaster struck the sword from his hand and another two pinned both his arms back. A fourth blocked Wild and Twilight’s shots with a shield.

“Ledge!” Wind warned too late, and Sky watched, frozen, as two Blademasters held the panting veteran still, brown ropes in the hands of a third, before they too disappeared. 

Where is Crimson? Sky thought numbly, standing alone where Hyrule and Legend had been. He had to fly…no, to run…to find them... but where did they go? 2. Legend's Escape

When the Yiga took Legend, they had not accounted for two facts: Legend’s arsenal of weapons, and his willingness to single-handedly burn down the entire hideout wile still inside it.  

“Where did you take him!?” Legend demanded, blasting his fire rod at the Yiga soldiers dancing away from his blasts, narrowly escaping a fiery end. 

“You’re the only one we got, you idiot!” A footsoldier shouted as she fired an arrow at Legend. She missed him entirely in her panic at the creeping flames, “you’re going to die with us if you keep lighting everything on fire!”

Alone within the enemy’s stronghold, he found no reason to hold back. 

 Legend grinned, and sent another blast into their supply of bananas. The soldiers scrambled to dodge and tried in vain to put out the flames before their whole stock burned. Legend sent back a few more blasts as he ran to the next room.

No Hyrule here, only more idiots, he realized as he entered a sparse training room. He chased the few soldiers out and continued his hunt from room to room, Pegasus boots moving him past the guards who shouted at him, the more persistent ones getting a blast of fire to the face before he continued his search. They popped in and out around him, but he hardly gave them a chance to materialize before blasting them

3. Reunion

(several days later, on a second sweep of the Yiga base with backup)

Wild, Twilight, and Legend appeared at the shrine by the Yiga base in the dead of night. 

The place was a wreck. Not a single Yiga appeared to stop them. 

“What the hell did you do, Ledge?” Twilight marveled. 

Wild surveyed the damage, some wall chunks blasted halfway to the bottomless pit where Master Khoga accidentally died while trying to kill him. 

“Hey, I don’t remember doing all this, okay? Could have been someone else,”

They both raised an eyebrow at him.

“Dinraal herself wouldn’t unleash this much destruction,” Wild smiled. 

“The Gerudo don’t like them either, little vai,” he scoffed, and looked around the piles of scorched boulders for an opening. 

“Hey, Twi’,” Wild pointed at the wall to their left. The once smooth canyon wall now showed a hidden hallway passage between blasted walls.

“I’m pretty sure that was me,” Legend confessed, “That’s just what we need, actually. It’s familiar. It leads to the prison cells,” He marched that way. “I hope they didn't reset their traps. I’d hate to have to blast them all over again,”

Wild followed. 

A rumble of thunder made them all slow and look to the sky.

A bright moon shone over a cloudless night.

“You heard that too, right?” Wild asked.

“Like…Thunder?” Twilight answered.

They raced inside.

(shortly after)

“Hyrule!” 

 He froze at Legend’s familiar yell. 

There, through the doorway, ran Legend, Twilight and Wild. 

He could hardly believe his eyes, but his thoughts had already turned to what he’d been running from.

“It’s Gannon!” Hyrule yelled as he raced to meet them, “We have to go!”

Legend grabbed the projectile that was Hyrule in his arms and nearly crashed into Wild as the debris ahead exploded. Twilight threw a blue Sheikah bomb at the broken hall which Wild set off as they ran.

Around the corner, Wild yelled, “Pull in close!”

They huddled together as blue tendrils encircled and took them out of reach of the red lights popping into view all around. The Yiga didn’t even finish materializing before the Links were gone. 

They reappeared in the cold, waving grass of Hyrule field.

“Hyrule, what the hell!” Legend’s voice trembled slightly as he gripped Hyrule’s arms and took in the state of his successor: the red thread around his throat like a line of blood, the strange white clothes, the chains, and the bruises all over him, but nothing lethal. He sighed in relief. 

“Just in case,” Twilight released a fairy. 

She zipped out and rushed around Hyrule with rapid squeaks, healing the few scrapes and bruises he’d earned climbing in the rubble. 

She chittered at the red cord on his neck before flying off. 

Before the fairy danced off into the night, Legend had pulled Hyrule into a ferocious hug. 

“I can’t believe we found you, Rulie,” he began with a growl that ended in a sob. 

Hyrule sat stunned for a moment, his tired mind catching up to the rush of events. He could feel his friend, smell his magic and sweat, the cool night air, the feel of the sturdy red tunic under his hands. He clutched him fiercely back. This wasn’t a dream. Hyrule grabbed fistfulls of the familiar tunic, and his chest swelled. 

“I’m sorry,” Hyrule sobbed into his friend’s neck, “I tried, but they brought him back! I couldn’t stop them. I'm so sorry!”

Legend pulled back and grabbed his face and looked at him fiercely. Hyrule’s heart tightened, ready for his wrath.

“It’s not your fault people are trying to destroy the world, Rulie,” his red, watering eyes made Hyrule’s heart ache, “We should have found you sooner. I’m sorry,”

Twilight and Wild placed a hand on Hyrule’s shoulder as well. He let Legend lean his forehead on his own, and they sat like that until both of them caught their breath as they sat in the cool grass. 

[lemonmatronics]

I just got done watching Out of the Past and I don’t think I’ll ever recover omg

I cried like 5 times and it took me an hour to get through cause I had to keep pausing to freak out and compose myself

That episode…GOD THAT EPISODE

I wanna ramble so spoilers below the cut since it’s like, actually a lot

So much in that episode got revealed it’s making me insane

Aja and Shana being the first Starlight Girls makes me so insane. Idk if they had ever mentioned that before and I just didn’t notice or forgot, but GOD that adds sm to the whole band’s bond. As well as adding to them working at Starlight too. They didn’t just work there because they agreed with the dream Jacqui stood for, Aja and Shana WERE the dream. That makes me sooooo crazy TEEHEEHEE

Also the reveal of how their mom died…ough

It explains a lot about Jerrica’s whole character to me tbh. Throughout the whole series so far I’ve been here thinking, “Wow, Jerrica is awfully patient and understanding with people. She’s barely ever mad at or super upset with people she cares about, and if she is it’s not for long”

and like…after learning that YEAH, Of course she’s like that! The last time she saw her mother she acted awful to her

What if she gets upset with someone and that’s the last time she ever sees them? It makes so much sense to me and makes what was seemingly a “flat and almost always perfect” type of character a lot more compelling. Not to say I didn’t like her before, I fuckin adore Jerrica, but that layer of extra complexity adds a LOT to her.

Speaking of Jerrica I loved seeing her grieve more. Both her and Kimber both seemed to have delayed reactions to each of their parents deaths, and sure that may have been accidental (most likely was), I think it’s interesting that big events and happenstances cause these emotions to bubble up later on. It’s gives a grounded layer of realism to their characters and I like that!

I also like that Jerrica used to kinda be a brat when she was younger. She wasn’t ALWAYS so thoughtful and acted like any kid and teen would to stuff happening around her, which again I like. It’s a realistic layer to her that adds a lot for me.

Onto talking about her mom more, the insight on both parents makes me nuts. Synergy being made with Jacqui’s voice and such drives me up the wall, that reveal floored me. But I like that it doesn’t change the fact Synergy is still her own separate being, she’s not Jacqui herself, only similar.

And the earrings being the last thing their father made…ohh makes me crazy. He wanted to give them to Jerrica personally…OOOH MAKES ME CRAZY….HE KNEW HE WAS DYING AND SPENT HIS LAST DAYS GETTING THINGS READY FOR HIS FAMILY…...OOOOHHHH MAKES ME CRAZY

And Eric Raymond…Eric when I catch you Eric. I’m going to kill that man I SWEAR DJJSHX Like I knew he was fucked up but OH MY GOD DUDE

Burning them in front of her!? Knowing it’s all she really has left of her mom voice!?

Slap was DESERVED. Her crying for her mom over the fire, her straight up reaching INTO the fire!? Should’ve beaten his ass.

Side note I fuckin love how much they slap men in this show. It’s not so much it loses its shock and impact when it happens, but enough to where you can say “yeah they slap guys a lot” and it’s true.

I also really like that The Misfits aren’t really active antagonists in this episode either. For multiple reasons.

The most they do is help Eric look for those tapes, and they don’t even know why they’re so important. Even after asking, and Eric is the one that finds them anyways so they don’t ever find out. And they’re left at that, no other appearance.

The Misfit’s rivalry with Jem is very petty and spiteful, as much as it may feel personal for them, it’s really not. It’s simply a band rivalry, an extreme one, but it’s formed out of very juvenile motivation.

Eric’s rivalry is not, his beef with Jerrica is IMMENSELY more personal not only because he used to be part of the company, but because he used to be a friend of the family. He knew this girl ever since she was a teenager, and she was ALWAYS a threat to him having full company control. And once she managed to kick him out the door any nice facade with her was over. She’s the reason he lost so much and depends so heavily on a band that treats him like shit (haha).

Their rivalry is infinitely more personal, and for such a personal conflict involving Jerrica’s dead mother, the woman that started Starlight, it only makes sense this would be a battle for him and him alone.

Additionally,, I just don’t think even The Misfits would go that far. Hell even Raymond with anyone else, but because it was Jerrica Benton specifically he had no issue burning her mother’s tapes right in front of her.

[another-clive-blog]

I voted to marry the boy, could you write him being incredibly smitten with one Emmy Altava? (I would take any Clemmy really, but Clive MUST be head over heels for her)

SORRY FOR THE DELAY !! My sincerest apologies, this week has been kicking my ass-

This was hard to write, because I'm bad at shipping and also I don't know the first thing about Emmy ? She works with Layton and is gorgeous, that's it :'D I did ask some friends who told me about a camera ?? So I tried to like. Work from there

ANYWAY !! AU where Emmy works at Clive's newspaper as a part-job on top of her adventures with Layton ! She is a photographer and 20-year-old Clive is a writer. Also this is Unwound Future Canon-compliant (kinda ? It works from Clive's perspective). This is teen, comfort no hurt, fluff, and entirely written from clive's POV

Emmy fans I apologize in advance if I didn't do your girl justice, she is gorgeous and I want to get to know her

Clive remembered that fateful day- not the day it had all started, of course, but the day his whole plan had been thrown off the rails.

It was a day just like the others- or rather, it would have been, had his article not been rejected. He had been working at the newspaper for two years now, ever since he'd graduated at age 18 : two years, and not once had one of his articles been refused. All of his work had always been met with approval at worst, congratulations at best- nothing less.

But not this time. The direction hadn't said much about this outrageous event, simply something about his article needing more work, apparently. This usually wouldn't bother Clive : failure was a part of life, and he forgave those poor souls for failing to perceive the greatness of his work.

And yet- this was a problem. Clive had asked to be granted access to informations about the Incident ever since he started working here, and his request had been denied every time. He had to prove his reliability first, they said, show them that he hadn't taken the job just to get his hands on classified files. It was annoying, truly : of course he had, but proving otherwise was tiresome.

But now, with this failure... Was his progress going to fade away ? Could he still hope to get these documents soon ? Or was this the faux pas that would cost him his prize entirely ?

Clive sighed, putting that traitorous piece of paper back on his desk : he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes for a moment.

What should he do now ?

"Well, that's a sad face if I've ever seen one," a voice commented in an extremely helpful way. He didn't recognize it, mostly because he couldn't be bothered to learn his colleagues' voices or names- mostly because they kept coming to annoy him at the worst possible time. Which was all the time.

"Could you please leave me alone for once or is it really too much to ask ?" Clive knew that he didn't sound very pleasant or respectful, but that was literally the last of his problems. Besides, he had isolated his desk from the rest specifically because he didn't want others to come bother him.

"Pretty sure this is the first time we meet. At least, I don't remember seeing you before. Are you new too ?" She replied, and she really wasn't leaving, was she ? Then again, if she was new here, she probably didn't know that he wasn't here to make friends.

He opened his eyes.

The first thing to catch his gaze was the odd yellow dress, a strange outfit to wear in a place like this : she looked like an adventurer, not a journalist. There wasn't any dress code to meet in order to work here, but still...

Then again, she did have a bow tie.

"I've been here for two years," he deadpanned. She seemed nice and that was good for her, really, but he wasn't in the mood for chit-chat. "Welcome to the team, I suppose."

She smiled. It wasn't bright like a sun or sweet like chocolate, but it was rather something authentic, that she had worked hard to obtain and preserve. This was the kind of smile that would inspire tons of stories and articles- at least to someone really passionate about this job.

Clive wasn't. He wasn't here to change the world or make friends, he was here to get these classified files that would hopefully help him move on.

"Thank you," she said, before putting one hand on his desk and leaning forward : Clive pushed his chair back a little. "Say, since we're a team now, do you mind telling me why I've never seen you hang out with the others ?"

Oh wow. Alright, no little mind games- just straight to the point.

That really was new.

"Well," Clive muttered, looking away, "I have work to do."

She tilted her head slightly, his answer only making her more curious. "And they don't ?"

Was this some kind of test ? Clive couldn't perceive any ill intentions behind this question, but it didn't sound all that mundane either. What was she at ?

"Of course they do," he explained himself, "But this is important to me, and-" Actually- why was he even telling her that ? She probably didn't care, he didn't care, this whole discussion was useless : he had no reason to keep it going. "And my article just got refused, so I have even more work to do." He said abruptly, hoping to end the conversation.

She didn't go away. "Oh really ? That sucks. Want me to take a look ?" She offered, as if she wasn't new here.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm not sure you can help much," Clive said coldly. He wasn't in the mood for this. "I mean, you're new, and a photographer, so this may not be your-"

"Nonsense !" She put her hands on her hips, the same smile on her face. She had listened to approximately none of his reasoning. Stubborn, Clive thought. Stubborn and very confident.

"I may not write the articles, but I know how they work," she said. "Also, I have learned a thing or two from Layton."

Clive froze. Layton. The professor Layton ? The one who had saved him as a kid, the man who was his model, his inspiration, his-

"Hey, this article is about him !" Quick as a fox, she had leaned over his desk and grabbed the piece of paper : her eyes were done scanning through the first few paragraphs before Clive could even react.

"Wh- where are your manners ?!" He yelled at her, blushing furiously. Alright, that was it-

Pushing his chair back, he quickly made his way around his desk, reaching for his sorry excuse of an article.

She dodged his poor attempt at taking back his sheet of paper with no effort whatsoever. "This is pretty good," she said, talking about the paper rather than his embarrassing fight.

Clive was a clever man- that's why he decided after yet another vain attempt that he couldn't win. Somewhere in his mind, he noted that she had to truly be an adventurer of some kind : she was surprisingly strong, agile and terribly efficient, unbothered by someone like him.

He reluctantly gave up his useless fight, taking a few steps back and crossing his arms instead. "Not good enough, apparently," he spat, glaring at her. She had no shame, no hesitation, no weakness- who even was she ?!

"Yeah, I can see why," she nodded, and Clive was once again baffled by her ability to say honest things without any hard feelings behind it.

"Your article is good, but you forgot the presentation," she explained, stepping closer to better show him : this proximity made Clive agitated, although he wasn't sure why. "You talk like everyone knows Layton, but that's just not true- especially since you're dealing with his first ever adventure. You have to keep everyone in mind, not just the readers who are as knowledgeable about this subject as you are."

Clive choked. "I-I'm not-"

"Hey, I could give you a good photo of Layton !" She interrupted him with a smile. "That way, everyone would know who we're talking about."

"Yeah, about that- do you actually know the professor ?" He narrowed his eyes at her, looking her up and down. She didn't seem like the kind of person the professor would frequent, bow tie or no bow tie.

"Of course !" She said, before her voice took a challenging intonation, "What, wanna bet ?"

Clive scoffed. She was being ridiculous- this was probably all an elaborate plan to make fun of him. He could absolutely picture his colleagues telling her to prank him as some sort of initiation ritual, actually. She certainly was almost as annoying as they all were.

But she may know the professor. "Sure," he finally said. "If you can take this photo and bring it to me, I'll buy you a coffee tomorrow."

"Wow, hey, don't ruin yourself for me Tiger," she sarcastically said. Tiger ??

"Wha-"

"Alright, I'll come tomorrow by your sad and isolated desk to give you the picture," she decided. "I love proving I'm right, almost as much as I love drinking terrible coffees with rude co-workers."

"Are you serious-"

"See you!" She cut him off with a provocative grin, again, and left without listening to another word he had to say, again.

Clive watched her go in silence, furious. Who did she think she was ?! She had been here for what, a couple hours, and she just came up to him like that ? He hoped she had annoyed everyone else too : that way, she'd get fired sooner rather than later.

The thought did make him feel better, and he sat back in his chair, enjoying the calm of the small room where stood his isolated desk. If he focused hard enough, he could hear her laugh with others in the next room- but he couldn't, because he didn't care enough to pay attention.

So since he wasn't listening to the sound of her voice, it was silent. And enjoyable. And lonely- which was good, because he hated having to deal with others. Especially her -what was her name again ? Not that it mattered-, because she was so rude and straight-forward and confident. Really confident.

Nevermind.

He picked up the article, looking at it thoughtfully. He needed this article to be accepted, and he needed it to be his best work yet : it was the only way to prove he was worthy of the reputation he had built for himself, and, most importantly- the only way to get what he wanted, the Truth.

...Presentation, uh ?

-_-_-_-

Surely enough, the very next day, Emmy came back to his desk with a brand new picture.

Professor Layton, sitting at a table, enjoying a nice cup of tea. He was smiling serenely, and his face held a bit of warmth, of comfort, of home.

"There you go !" Emmy said with a very satisfied smile, one that Clive wasn't ready to see this early in the morning.

He took the photo she was handing him. It felt recent and authentic : in fact, he could see yesterday's newspaper on the table, next to Layton's hand. It was crazy. There was no way they actually knew each other.

"Are you a paparazzi ?" He asked before he could stop himself. He shouldn't throw accusations her way in case she really was close to the professor, but what else could it be ?

"What ? No !" Emmy didn't seem to get offended- on the contrary, she stood proudly, hands on her hips. "I'm his associate !"

Oh.

Clive fell silent, his gaze wandering back to the picture. The professor was facing whoever had taken the photography : he was fully aware someone was here, taking this very picture. Had she asked him to smile ? Or was he just that happy to help his associate win a stupid bet and make a name for herself at her new job ?

Why would someone like the professor choose her as an associate ?

"That's odd," Emmy said with feigned naivety. "I recall you being a real Layton fan, and yet you didn't recognize the one and only Emmy Altava, associate of the great professor Layton ? Surely someone as knowledgeable as you should know this. I mean, it'd be pretty humiliating if you didn't, right ?"

He looked up, staring at her, and she stared him down with a provocative smirk, waiting for his answer.

Somehow, he... he wasn't mad. He didn't feel like angrily answering or starting a fight, which was relatively rare : maybe this was due to the fact that he knew she could easily destroy him.

Or maybe this was due to the fact that he really wanted to know what Layton had seen in her, now. "I'm not a Layton fan, and I didn't know he had an associate."

Emmy's smirk disappeared quickly at his admission, replaced with something that was almost disappointment. She hummed, looking at him strangely. "...This is really not as satisfying as you had me believe it would be. I was looking forward to crushing your little ego under my boot."

Alright- forget that. Clive scoffed. "Don't forget I have to buy you a disgusting coffee now, so we're stuck together for a few more painful minutes."

"Ah- I had indeed forgotten about that part," She admitted, scratching the top of her head. All of the antagonizing and taunting was gone, just like that, Clive noticed : how did she move on so quickly ? He never ever missed an opportunity to rightfully put people in their places. But she was already over it ??

Emmy -she did say her name was Emmy, right ? Emmy Altava- shrugged, coming to a decision. "Disgusting coffee is better than no coffee. Lead the way, Tiger."

He groaned. "Stop calling me that."

"Wait," she paused, and he stared at her while waiting for whatever nonsense she was about to spit. "...What is your name ?"

...You know what- that was fair. He hadn't told her, after all. "I'm Clive Dove."

She snapped her fingers, that same confident grin on her lips. "Great. Lead the way, Clivey."

Clive groaned before leaving the room without a word. Emmy followed him with a satisfied grin, very proud and amused by his pointless anger.

Clive walked faster, trying to hide the blush that crept on his face.

-_-_-_-

They didn't interact much after the coffee : in fact, they didn't talk at all for the next few days.

Clive would see her sometimes, or hear her. He heard her a lot : she had a booming voice, full of life and passion. Whenever she talked to another one of their colleagues, Clive would hear her contagious laugh, listen to her stories from the loneliness of his small isolated desk.

She was a great storyteller. Managing her effects, adding plenty of details, adapting to her audience- it felt real. Clive could picture her stories, her adventures at the professor's side.

This was exactly what gave him a new idea, bright like always.

He came across her in the corridor, while she was heading to get herself a coffee. "Oh- Clivey ! It's been some time, hasn't it ?"

He gritted his teeth. This was a bright idea. He only had bright ideas. "Ignoring that first part. I wanted to tell you something."

She didn't seem all that excited, merely eyeing him up and down like they were in a box ring. "What- you want me to prove you wrong again ? Cuz I can do that-"

"No, no," he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. Why was she always so impulsive ? "I wanted to tell you that I submitted my article again, and the direction as well as the audience were really enthusiastic this time."

She seemed to relax, smiling instead. "That's great ! I'm happy for you."

"Also I added your name to it."

She... stopped smiling. In fact, she remained uncharacteristically silent, staring at him as if she was trying to see beyond his calm expression.

It was unsettling- deeply, extremely unsettling. It felt as though she could look at him and see everything he was hiding : his dead parents, his need for answers, his plan to get these files, his... his dead parents. There was nothing else he was hiding.

And yet, he felt his face go red under her scrutinizing gaze. Stupid, embarrassing shame.

"You helped me with the photography and the structure of the article, so it's only fair," he explained in a small voice, crossing his arms. He was not going to look at her. He was not going to meet her gaze and help her find whatever she was looking for. "And that's also why I'm here. I would like to offer you to- to work on a series of articles about the professor."

Clive still refused to watch her reaction, and it took another couple of seconds for Emmy to react : but when she did, she put her hands on her hips, leaning forward with a wide grin. Clive hated when she did that, it made him feel so small compared to her. She was also closer to him, which made him feel really... uncomfortable. And hot. "You want me to work on these ? With you, I suppose ?"

"Obviously," he scoffed, shrugging nonchalantly- or so he tried.

"...Why ?" She sounded concerned- curious too. There was something in her that wasn't sure about this project, and yet there was an even bigger part of her who wanted to get more out of this, to explore all the possibilities.

Clive couldn't care less about possibilities, or colleagues, or success : there was only one success that mattered to him, and it was getting these classified informations.

Which was exactly why he wanted to work with Emmy. Her proximity with Layton and, he'll admit it, her set of skills were perfect to help him reach his own goal. "Because you know a lot about the professor, and your stories are good material. Also, you could provide with pictures and- and presentation advices, I suppose. Probably," he muttered. She was still so close- should he step back ?

No, she would probably get offended. Oh well- he just had to keep standing inches from her, then.

She seemed amused. "I thought you weren't a Layton fan. Why are you asking me to tell you about him ?"

"He's a good inspiration for articles," he said, trying to sound professional- and why was he even trying ? This was professional. It was a professional setting. "Only an idiot would let this opportunity go."

"And you're not an idiot." She thought about it for a minute, before she shrugged : "Why not ! I'm here to create articles, after all. But first I need my coffee." She stretched her back before taking a few steps away, heading for her long-awaited beverage.

Clive felt... almost disappointed to see her leaving, but the unusual joy overcame it easily. She had accepted to work with him, they were gonna be a team- which meant that he was getting closer to achieving his goal. "Wait- want me to buy you a coffee ?"

She chuckled. "Don't ruin yourself for me, Clivey."

He didn't make any comment on the name.

-_-_-_-

Getting to work with Emmy was just delightful. She was as efficient as he was, both straight-forward in their criticism, always looking for ways to improve, listening to the other's suggestions before making up their minds. They made an exceptional team with perfect cohesion and excellent results.

Of course, the direction had noticed it too. Their articles were a hit among the newspaper's audience, even bringing in new customers : everyone was curious about this duo who wrote entertaining articles about some professor. It almost felt like fiction, and people liked to read these improbable stories that stood out from the rest of the usual news coverage.

The audience wanted more, the direction wanted more, and so Emmy and Clive logically decided to make more articles : day after day, week after week, they kept creating more and more stories, to the point that they would spend most of the day together- even the sacred coffee break.

"And that's how we found out that Descole really was behind all of this," Emmy finished her story, taking her cup of coffee in one hand. "I mean, I had my suspicions- but without the professor, I never would have guessed what was truly going on."

Clive nodded, absent-mindedly scribbling a few notes. His own cup had been left completely untouched, his coffee cold by now.

This detail didn't go unnoticed. "Cold coffee won't taste better, you know," Emmy joked.

Clive stopped writing, looking at his cup in silence.

Emmy frowned. "Hey, are you okay ?"

Clive looked at her, then at his notes. They were precise and neatly written at first, like always, before suddenly going... messy. Which was weird, because Clive hated messy.

"I just thought about something," he explained.

"Oh ?" She leaned forward on the table : her curious eyes were scanning Clive's face, waiting for any piece of information. Her coffee was left forgotten- it was disgusting anyway.

Clive brought his own cup to his lips, a poor attempt at hiding the blush on his face- because he was blushing, he knew that.

After all, this was exactly the something he had been thinking about.

It had taken him weeks to realize it. But surely enough, at some point, he had stopped listening to the stories and started listening solely to the voice telling them. He had stopped seeing work as a means to an end and started to look forward to seeing her in the morning, to sharing a coffee with her day after day.

He had even stopped caring about these stupid classified files. He would never stop being curious about the truth, wanting deep down to know what truly went down- but he could also portray his life in a world where he wouldn't get to know. Maybe he could never know, and still be okay, as long as he had another source of motivation.

Emmy. His work with her- scratch that. Just Emmy. He knew it was her and not these pointless articles : even the professor, his childhood hero, seemed to pale in comparison to her, recently.

He had wondered why the professor had made her his associate : now he knew, maybe even more than Layton himself.

"I was just- just thinking," he said, before taking a sip of coffee. It was cold, and bitter, and frankly disgusting : this newspaper should be able to afford better coffees, especially with all the records in sells recently. But this disgusting coffee allowed him to share a moment with Emmy, so maybe it was a bit okay. "About stuff."

"Very specific," Emmy mocked him, "Come on, spit it out !"

Oh, there was no way he was telling her. Admitting it -partly- to himself was already a big enough challenge. "I was- well, I was wondering if the professor was okay with us writing about his life."

Emmy rose an eyebrow, settling back in her chair. It really was just a game of getting closer and away, wasn't it ? "The professor doesn't mind. He is flattered someone is that invested in his adventures. He said he'd like to meet you, one day," Emmy simply answered, looking at him funny. There it was, that scrutinizing gaze that was looking for secrets, trying to uncover everything he wasn't saying- "But really, Clivey, we've been doing that for weeks. You only wonder about that now ?"

"I guess I didn't want this to stop, in case he was bothered," he simply said.

If Emmy noticed the way he passed up the opportunity to meet Layton himself, she didn't say a thing. "Ah, right. You're not an idiot, and you're not passing up any opportunities."

"Exactly," Clive said. He wasn't blushing anymore, so he put his coffee down- it was really too disgusting, anyway.

Emmy nodded. "We have enough for our next article. We should get back to work- you know, so you keep getting opportunities." She said this with a touch of humor, and Clive chuckled at it. It wasn't even that funny, but she had a way of making him happy that only worked with her : another colleague would have him rolling his eyes and spitting a distateful comment.

"Alright- I just need to go back to my desk first," he said, standing up and gathering his stuff.

In a fraction of second, Emmy was next to him. "Go get it, Tiger," she gently punched him in the shoulder. Uh, it'd been some time since she used that one.

"And Clive ?" She added. "I'm glad we took this opportunity. Together." And with that, she winked at him.

Clive stared dumbly at her, her words taking a minute to register : when they did however, he felt his whole face heating up in a way he couldn't possibly hide.

"I- uh- I mean-" He stuttered like an idiot, unable to form any thought. What did she mean by that ? Was this a friendly remark ? Or did she- did she also-

Was she also in love with him ? Because he was in love, madly. And maybe he hoped she was too.

He didn't know what miracle happened, but she left without any comments and he remained alone, his stuff in his hands and his heartbeat racing. He must look pathetic, being so red in the face and trembling because of a single remark. He was weak, weak for her, and what was left to be done ?

Luckily -a second miracle-, he didn't see any colleagues as he rushed back to his desk : if any of them had seen him like this, a trembling blushing mess, he probably would have no choice but to kill them.

Putting his stuff on one side of the desk, he himself dropped onto his chair, palms pressed against his face. Even now, even with his eyes closed, he could still see her beautiful smile, the way she winked at him-

No. No no no- he had to stop imagining stuff. There was no way she saw him as more than a colleague -a friend, maybe, emphasis on the maybe- and he would ruin everything if he couldn't respect her feelings on the matter. He didn't- he didn't actually need to- to date her- dating her, he was thinking about dating her and it sounded so wonderful, everything he could ask for, and-

No ! No, alright ? She wasn't interested, and he respected that. And he didn't need to date her, just getting to talk to her, to see her being so vibrant and passionate and confident, a real force of nature- just that was enough. He didn't need more.

He was happy with just getting to see her.

He dropped his hands, taking a deep breath. His heartbeat was still a bit fast, but it was returning to normal : even the red on his face was gone. It was alright. He would be alright, as long as he could keep things as they were.

And if he wasn't entirely satisfied with the way things were, if he kept longing for more, then it was his problem.

He opened his eyes, only to notice a white envelope on the middle of his desk. It... hadn't been there before. Who had put this here ?

Curious if not wary, he got closer and took the sheet of paper, turning it around in his hand.

On the front, he could read "Access to classified files granted"

[tinylilemrys]

Lonely In London

Relationship:

Trent Crimm/Ted Lasso

Additional Tags:

Angst and Romance | Romcommunism | Friends to Lovers | Romantic Comedy | Alternate Universe – Canon Divergence

Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Summary:

Henry, worried about how lonely his dad seems to be in London, writes into an advice podcast for some help. A podcast run by an ex-colleague of Trent's – one that he listens to religiously. If Trent falls a little for 'Lonely In London' because he reminds him of Ted, well that's just coincidence. An homage to romcommunism, largely based on 'Sleepless In Seattle' with a few others thrown in for good measure.

Previous Chapter

CHAPTER 5

Ted can feel the panic starting, threatening to take over, but knows he can't let it. If there's ever a time he can't afford to fall apart, it's now. Instead, he runs through his grounding exercises, goes to the bathroom to splash his face with water, and grabs his coat, keys, wallet, phone, and after nearly leaving without it, his charger. He's going to be at the airport for a while and there's no way in hell he's going to be out the loop with what's happening with his son because of a dead phone.

He fights the panic all the way to the airport, clutching his little LEGO keychain like it's a lifeline, all the while wondering if Henry is okay. He panics when Henry is alone on a flight at the best of times, when he's been the one who signed him in. When he's watched the last view of Henry disappear with the flight attendant. This? This is torture. This is not knowing how scared Henry is. This is knowing Michelle is just as terrified as he is. This is knowing that it was Doctor Fucking Jacob that decided to take it upon himself to sign in his kid for an international flight.

Ted isn't typically a violent man, but he's thankful that he's on a completely different continent to the man. He has no idea what he would do if he saw him face to face right now.

It's not much better at the airport, except now there's nothing to distract him. He finds himself glancing up at the arrivals board every few minutes, even though he knows, of course, that he won't see Henry's flight number on there. He doesn't even know what Henry's flight number is. He texts Michelle in case she knows and settles back to do a whole lot of terrified waiting.

He's on such high alert, that he jumps and practically throws his phone when it starts ringing. Scrambling to get it, he sees that it's Michelle.

"Hey, any news?" he asks. He can hear Michelle is crying. His stomach plummets. "Oh, Michelle, what happened?"

"No, no, sorry," she says, finally able to speak again. "It's good. There's a storm and Henry's flight got delayed. I'm with him now."

Every muscle in his body releases. Michelle has him. He's going to be okay.

"Oh thank god," he says, rubbing a hand across his chest to calm his racing heart. "Thank god. Can I speak to him?"

"Yeah, hang on," she says. There's a bit of scuffle and then Ted hears his boy, his sweet, beautiful perfect boy on the other end. He's so glad to hear him that he forgets he's supposed to be mad. He can't be mad right now, he's just so glad he's okay.

"Dad," he says between sobs, "Dad, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry."

"Hey," he says, the tears starting in his own eyes now. "Hey, we can talk about all that later. What's important is that you're safe and that Mom's with you now. You're gonna be okay. I'm honestly just so glad to hear your voice, Bud."

He talks to Henry a while longer, reassuring him, telling him that he loves him. God, telling him over and over again how much he loves him. It feels like a miracle that he still has the chance to. He's never going to take it for granted again.

When it sounds like Henry's getting tired on the other end, Ted suggests he gives the phone back to his mom. With one last "I love you so much, Kiddo", Michelle is back on the line.

"Henry's pretty wiped so he's going to take a nap for a bit," says Michelle. There's silence on the line between them for a while before Ted hears her deep, steadying breath. "I'm sorry, Ted. I'm so sorry. This never should have happened. I was working late and Jake was supposed to be taking him home from practice. I still don't know exactly what happened. I was too angry and worried about Henry to get into the details."

"Hey, it's alright," says Ted, wishing he could be there to comfort his family. "We can figure that out later once we're all a bit calmer. For now, maybe the two of you should head home. I'll make sure the tickets are covered. Get home and enjoy your Christmas."

"We're still coming to London, Ted," says Michelle, and Ted feels a flutter of hope.

"Michelle, you don't need to--"

"Henry is desperate to see you," she says, cutting him off, "and I can't imagine anything worse than going home right now. I think we both want to spend Christmas with you."

"Well, you won't catch me complaining," says Ted. The colour is starting to return to the world. In a matter of hours, his son will be here with him, in his arms.

"It also might actually be time for us to talk about moving over there," Michelle continues. "My company's opening an office in London and there's an option to transfer. In any case, Henry keeps talking about wanting to be there. He's determined to play professional soccer and the prospects are better in the UK. The only thing that was keeping us from doing it was Jake."

"And he's not a factor anymore?" Ted asks, guessing the answer.

"Fuck no," says Michelle. "We're as done as it's possible to be. He tried to insist on staying with me at the airport, you know? Like, trying to get a ticket himself. I told him that if he didn't leave, I was going to report him for kidnapping."

Get rekt, Doctor Jacob, thinks Ted, relieved that the man won't ever be anywhere near his son again.

There's another bit of silence between them, the sounds of Eisenhower International mingling with the sounds of Heathrow. He thinks about how great it would be to have Henry nearby again. How great it would be to have Michelle nearby again. They may not love each other the way they used to, but she was his best friend for twenty years. He's hoping there's at least some kind of friendship they can hold onto for Henry's sake.

"Michelle, are you sure about moving?" asks Ted. "I can't ask you to pack up your whole life to move halfway across the world. It's not fair to you."

"No, Ted, what's not fair is Henry being thousands of miles away from you. I mean, he tries to be brave about it, but he spends every day wishing he was there with you. Moving halfway round the world would be a small price to pay to see our boy smile more."

He doesn't know what to say to that. He knows Henry hasn't been himself since he left. He didn't know it was as bad as that.

"And the thing is, you're not asking us, Ted. I'm telling you what's going to happen. I mean, we'll definitely talk about it more once we're over there. For now, just know that we're excited to see you."

"Yeah?" says Ted. "I'm excited to see you too. Tell Henry I say goodnight."

Once he hears the beeping that tells him Michelle has hung up, Ted settles back into his seat and fires a text off to Beard.

Hey, sorry. I know it's the middle of the night, but there's been a situation with Henry and I'm at Heathrow. Crazy story, but I'll tell you everything when I see you. Can you please take training tomorrow? I'll owe you one.

He doesn't have to wait long for a text back.

Hey, of course I can. Something with Henry? Is everything okay? Do you need me there? I can get Roy to cover training. Say the word and I'm there.

Ted knows he would be, but team needs him more than he does right now.

All okay, Doris Day. He and Michelle are coming to stay for Christmas. Will explain everything soon. Thanks! ❤️

He gets a heart back in response, and finally, for the first time since Michelle's initial call, he feels himself relax.

He's got any number of books downloaded, and he figures that's as good a way as any to kill some time. Christmas Eve at Heathrow can't be the worst way to spend the day. In the back of his mind, he knows that there's a possibility that he might see this Isolated In Islington while he's here, but that's not for a while. And in any case, he plans to ignore them. After all, it's not like they know who he is.

***

Trent has never been more nervous about anything in his life. He wakes up on the morning of Christmas Eve, feeling like a great big ball of anxiety and nicotine withdrawal. In less than ten hours, he's going to be at the Heathrow arrivals gate waiting for Ted.

Whether Ted will be there or not is another story altogether, but he can't let himself think like that right now, or he'll never try. He knows it's a long shot. Ted has no idea that he's Isolated In Islington, and even if he did, Trent is not all that sure it would make a difference. They've agreed to be friends. They might not be on the same page about this.

But, no, Trent owes it to himself to at least try.

He spends the morning attempting and failing to distract himself with anything and everything. He takes a stab at writing, but all that's running through his mind is Ted and writing about him isn't helping.

He calls Anabelle to check how she's doing, but she's only four and her attention span barely lasts a few minutes at the best of times. There's the added factor of Christmas now, and absolutely everything seems to be pulling her attention away from the screen. Resigned, he tells her that he loves her, and hangs up. Shaun is dropping her off tomorrow, so they'll celebrate then.

By the time it hits early afternoon, Trent can't take being home a moment longer and decides, fuck it, he's got books in his to-be-read pile. He might as well read them at the airport. At least then he can fret in sight of the spot he's going to wait. He'll get there early, grab a bite to eat, and wait with bated breath to see if Ted ever actually does show up.

Pulling on the shirt he'd been unable to resist buying in Amsterdam, the yellow one with the print of Van Gogh's Sunflowers on it, and pairing it with one of his old faithful blazers and his best pair of jeans, he grabs his small pile of books and heads to Heathrow to either start the rest of his life, or make an enormous idiot of himself.

The last thing he expects to find in an airport at three in the afternoon, a full five hours before they're supposed to meet, is Ted slumped next to an outlet, charging his phone.

Trent's journalistic brain kicks into full gear, and he notices several things at once. Half of Ted's face is red with a pattern that looks an awful lot like a zipper. His coat is bundled next to him like it was recently used as a pillow. His hair is sleep-tousled and his eyes seem bloodshot. Ted's been here for hours, so whatever he's here for, it's not to meet him.

The sinking disappointment only lasts for a moment because when Ted looks up and spots him, his face breaks into the biggest smile he thinks he's ever seen on him.

"Trent!" he says, jumping to his feet and pulling him into a hug. "Oh boy, I've never been happier to see a friendly face."

"It's lovely to see you too, Ted," he says, because it's true. Even half-awake and looking like he's spent a lifetime in the airport, Ted is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. He allows the hug to linger a second longer than it needs to.

"What are you doing here?" Ted asks, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. "Did Beard send you?"

Trent, realising he doesn't have a good reason for being here otherwise, decides it's as good an excuse as any.

"Yeah, exactly," he lies. "What's going on? Is everything okay?"

"Beard didn't tell you?" Trent shakes his head. "Oh man, do I have a story for you."

They settle back down on the ground next to the outlet and Ted tells Trent about Henry booking himself a flight, about how he and Michelle are on their way to London. About how it was Michelle's new boyfriend, their former marriage counsellor, who signed Henry into the flight.

Trent didn't think it was possible to hate someone he'd never met, but the burning rage he feels at anyone being that irresponsible and careless and cruel is unlike any he's ever felt. He imagines what he would do if it was Anabelle and he knows that it would be ugly.

"Are you doing alright now, though?" he asks, looking Ted directly into his eyes, daring him to lie the way he used to when he was a journalist. Except he's sure that now it's even more intense because this answer is far more important to him than those ever were.

"Not altogether," admits Ted with a tired smile. "I'm furious, of course. Let's just say that Doctor Jake is lucky he's a whole flight away. I'm tired. Just so tired. I'm worried the way I always am when Henry and Michelle fly. But mostly, I'm so excited to see my boy that I could cry."

"I can imagine. I'd be the same if it was Anabelle."

Ted smiles at him, and Trent smiles back. The circumstances are far from ideal, but for the first time in months things between Ted and him are just… easy. There's no worrying or what ifs. He's going to keep Ted company. Ted needs someone to keep his mind from imagining the worst and Trent is only too happy to be that person.

They sit in companionable silence for a few moments, before Trent finally climbs to his feet and declares that they're going to get something to eat. Henry and Michelle's flight is only going to land sometime around nine with all the storm delays, and Trent explains that there's no sense in the two of them starving until then.

And starving Ted was. He wolfs down his entire meal in the time it takes Trent to just get through his chips and immediately goes to order more.

"I needed that," says Ted once they're both done and heading back to their waiting spot with their drinks. "I haven't been able to think about food all day. And I threw up when Michelle first told me, so I was running on less than empty."

"Well then, I'm glad we could get something in your system," says Trent.

His heart is bursting with affection for this man. This man and his ridiculous moustache and kind, sad eyes and heart that tries to love absolutely everyone it meets.

And, not for the first time today, Trent thinks 'fuck it'.

He hesitates for a just moment before reaching out to take Ted's hand. To his surprise and delight, Ted doesn’t pull away. In fact, his fingers lace through Trent's.

"Thanks for being here," says Ted as they settle into their seats, still holding hands. When Trent tries to wave his thanks away, Ted's voice takes on that rare no-nonsense edge again. "No, I'm serious, Trent. This day has been hell, and when I saw you walking towards me through my foggy half-asleep vision it was like seeing an angel or something."

"Me?" Trent scoffs, although his heart is racing. "A hardened old muckraker? Hardly."

"I'm just reporting it like I see it," grins Ted.

They're sitting so close together, and his hand his in Ted's. The moment is so charged, it feels like the smallest movement would set off a spark. And for the first time since he's known Ted, he finds he doesn't care what that spark does. Let it burn the world down. It would be worth it.

Ted takes a deep breath just then, like he's gearing up for something big and Trent feels his breathing stop. He doesn't want to miss a second of whatever is happening right now.

"Look, I know you might not feel the same way about all this, but as much as I love being your friend, it's been more than that for a while. I know you know it has. That kiss…"

"That kiss," Trent agrees, and Ted's eyes snap to his. Questioning. Waiting.

Thinking back, Ted's always been the one pushing them to where they need to go. He was the one who shifted the conversation from professional chitchat to friendship, and then from friendship to wherever they were before Trent panicked and backed away. It's time for Trent to do the same.

"I've been in love with you for almost three years, Ted." Ted looks genuinely surprised at that. "What, you think I would give up a source for just anyone? That should have been your first major clue. I just… I don't think I know how to do this anymore. Not since Shaun. I was scared, both of getting it wrong and what it could do to everything you care about.

"And the thing is, Ted, you deserve so much. So much more than I could probably give you. But I'm tired of not trying. I'm tired of pretending that I don't want you. That I can live without you. And I know this may not be ideal for the club, but I'm ready to be a little selfish. Aren't you?"

For a moment, Ted seems frozen, like everything Trent just told him is processing. But then he's wearing that fond smile that turns Trent to mush, and he's reaching up to gently hold Trent's chin.

"For you? Anything."

And for a second beautiful time in his life, Ted's lips are on his.

It's different this time, though. This time there's no fear. There's no wondering who's watching. There's no hesitation. There's no doubt.

What there is, is Ted and Trent, just two men in love. The rest doesn't matter. They'll figure it all out as they go.

"God, I'm so glad you're here," says Ted, pressing his forehead to Trent's.

"So am I," says Trent, feeling so rapturously happy he might float away any second.

So what if his big, grand, romantic gesture didn't go according to plan? In time, he'll tell Ted about it and the two of them will probably laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of it all.

No, what he got instead was something small. Something beautiful. Something real. Something Ted. And he wouldn't trade that for the world.

***

The last few hours of waiting for Henry and Michelle are surprisingly easy now that he's got his back pressed against Trent's chest, with Trent's long arms around him, holding him together. Grounding him.

While Trent focuses on one of the books he brought with him, Ted fires off a text to Beard.

Thanks for sending Trent to wait with me. He's been a lifesaver. ❤️

He puts his phone back in his pocket, and picks up one of the other books from Trent's pile. As far as ways to wait at an airport go, this is definitely Ted's new favourite.

When the plane finally lands, Ted and Trent walk hand in hand to the gate to welcome Henry and Michelle. Ted's heart is hammering. As much as he's so excited to see them, he knows he's going to have to sit down with Michelle to figure out a the right consequence for Henry. Fraud's a pretty big behavioural issue they're going to need to nip in the bud. He pushes this to the back of his mind, for now though. Right now, he's focusing on just how hard he's going to hug his son when he sees him.

Trent gives his hand a squeeze as if he can sense Ted's nerves, and Ted squeezes back in thanks. Whatever happens, he's got Trent.

When he finally sees Henry and Michelle, Trent releases Ted's hand so he can sprint to them. Henry jumps into his arms, sobbing and Ted just holds him, bawling. They stand like that for ages, Ted telling Henry over and over again how much he loves him. After a while, he shifts Henry to one side so that he can hug Michelle with his free arm. The three of them stand like that for a bit, until Ted's arms finally say enough is enough and he sets Henry down. Trent seems to be keeping a distance, probably trying to give them their space, but when Henry spots him, he jumps into his arms almost as enthusiastically as he'd jumped into Ted's. Trent looks both surprised and delighted.

Michelle smiles and raises her eyebrows, and Ted knows she's asking if Trent is someone special. He nods and she beams, and whatever worry might have been there slips away.

Once Henry's back on his two feet and Trent and Michelle have been introduced, Michelle nudges Henry forward.

"Someone has a question to ask you," she says. "Although I think he's a little embarrassed to ask it now after all the drama. I told him that since it's the whole reason we're here in the first place, asking would be the right thing to do."

"Oh yeah?" asks Ted, with an idea of where this might be going. "Well, fire away, Bud."

Henry's face flushes the deepest red and he has to clutch onto Michelle just to be able to squeak out the smallest "Did… Did you get to meet Isolated in Islington?"

He knew he'd ask, and the idea of disappointing Henry is not one he's looking forward to. But there's Trent now and there's no way he's sabotaging that.

He sighs.

"Look, I'm sorry, Bud. I didn't." Henry looks crestfallen. "But remember how I said I have a good reason?"

Henry nods.

"Yeah well, this is my good reason," he says, taking Trent's hand and pulling him closer. "Thing is, I've been in love with Trent for quite a while. It wouldn't have been fair to anyone else to meet them and get their hopes up. Not when I couldn't give them what they were looking for. So, no, I didn't meet Isolated In Islington."

Henry nods, and then seems to take a moment to process what Ted said, just as Trent clears his throat.

"Well, actually…" says Trent next to him and Ted's head has never snapped around quicker. Trent drops to his haunches to look Henry in the eye. "Henry, perhaps Isolated In Islington sent that email after one too many drinks and regretted it for a while, but then decided to show up anyway on the small hope that something might come of it. Only to find Lonely In London already at the airport looking like they'd had the absolute worst day of their life. Maybe after Lonely In London and him figured out that they're already in love and they've been dancing around each other for far too long, Isolated In Islington didn't really see much of a point of going through with the crazy romcom moment."

"Wait, you're Isolated In Islington?" says Henry, face absolutely lighting up. "You're Dad's soulmate?"

Trent offers Ted a smile that Ted can only gape at. There is just no way.

"I mean, I really hope so," says Trent. "At the very least I think he might be mine."

"Hell yeah!" says Henry, punching the air as Michelle chastises him for cussing.

Trent stands level again and all Ted can do is stare.

"If I knew it was you," says Ted, when he finally finds the words again. "Trent, if I knew it was you, this would have been a completely different story."

"Well, it's me," says Trent.

"Henry, why don't we do get everyone coffees?" says Michelle with a wink to Ted, steering Henry away when he insists he wants to stay to see what happens.

Ted doesn't know what to say, so he laughs. He just laughs and laughs and Trent laughs with him.

"I should have known," says Ted. "You're wearing sunflowers. You said I'd know who you were when I saw you. I would have known it was you because of the sunflowers."

"I think you knew before then," says Trent. "We both did."

"Well, Isolated In Islington," says Ted, stepping back and offering a hand in greeting. "I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Likewise, Lonely In London," Trent replies, shaking it and then pulling him in for another kiss. If Ted has been happier in his life, he can't remember it.

As they stand there for a moment, Ted tracing the petals of the same sunflowers that helped him realise that he had to take a chance with Trent, he laughs again.

"I don't think those ladies at the podcast know how powerful they are," he says, and Trent laughs too.

"I'll be sure to email Lauren to let her know," he says. Ted is confused, but Trent explains. "She's an ex-colleague of mine. One of the better ones. Why did you think I was listening in the first place?"

"Well now that is a plot twist," says Ted, and then something else occurs to him. "Wait, how did you know I was Lonely In London?"

"Ah, well now, Ted you know I draw a hard line at revealing my sources."

Ted raises an eyebrow and Trent gives him a sheepish smile.

"I accidentally saw an email notification on your phone. Sorry. But I think I knew before then. The letter just sounded like you."

"Well," says Ted, "however it happened, I don't think we could call ourselves isolated and lonely anymore. How about we ditch the monikers and grab that coffee?"

"Now that sounds like a wonderful plan."

As they walk, Ted feels his phone buzz in his pocket.

What the hell are you talking about? Why would I send Trent and not just come there myself? Are you sure everything's okay?

Ted shows Trent the text, asking for clarification and Trent laughs.

"I didn't have a better excuse for being here," he says. "You try being all suave and slick when the person you're trying to impress with a big romantic gesture shows up five hours early for a completely different reason."

"Point taken," Ted laughs. He types a quick reply to Beard.

Everything is better than okay. I promise I'll tell you everything later. Right now I'm having coffee with my family. Have a fun Yule with Jane.

He slips his phone back into his pocket, and takes Trent's hand again. He's never been more of a believer in romcommunism than he is right now.

***

To: mail@helpimsosadpodcast.com

Subject: A Little Life Update

Dear Smidge, Bits, and Lauren

There aren't enough words in the English language for me to express how grateful I am for your show.

I know we went over all this in my last thank you, where I told you that this show is a big part of why the love of my life and I are together now. Why my son now lives in the UK and has most adorable little sister. Why I now live with the most incredible man I've ever met.

Well, I just wanted to write in and let you know that we're getting married!We both popped the question last night. Turns out, we'd both planned these big elaborate proposals, but then I blurted it out while we were doing dishes of all things and we both had to scramble to go grab our rings from their hiding places.

You might ask why it was doing dishes that made me realise that I couldn't go another moment without asking this man to be my husband, and I honestly couldn't say. But it was something about the way our elbows kept bumping. The way I had to keep sliding past him to get plates into cupboards. The way we were just so comfortably, happily, gratefully in each other's space. And I just realised that with him, I'm never alone. He's the reason that London isn't lonely for me anymore. It was just this feeling of overwhelming happiness, and I knew I never ever wanted to stop feeling that with him.

So we're getting married! Consider this your save the date. We would genuinely love to have you there.

Until then, keep doing what you're doing and never stop reminding people that even though things are bleak now, it doesn't mean they'll always be.

All our love

Lonely In London, Isolated In Islington, My Dad Is (No Longer) Sad, and Squish

🌻🌻🌻🌻

[villainsview]

Chapter 10

Don't Go

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I made a mistake thinking I could work during the night, though luckily I discovered my mistake before I even had the chance to leave. I was about to check on Erick just in case, when I found him crawling across to the bathroom to suffer the wonders and horrors of the human immune system for a few hours.

I sighed, taking my jacket off and texting Tito about unexpected delays, and waited for the turmoil in the bathroom to die down a little before going in to check. Erick was sitting on the floor next to the toilet, catching his breath a bit, looking pale as a sheet, shaking and hiccuping a little.

Without saying a word, I closed the toilet lid and flushed for him. I grabbed a washcloth and ran some cool water over it to clean his face, before filling a cup with water and getting him to take a few sips.

“Small sips,” I reminded him, though he already didn’t drink a whole lot, “just sit here a bit, I’ll grab you some saltines, and then we’ll get you back to bed.”

“O-okay…” the teen replied, a little colour returning to his face already.

I headed into the kitchen, grabbing a pack of B-brand crackers I’d bought yesterday, before returning and tearing it open so Erick could nibble on one, rubbing his eyes with his free hand. I sat down on the edge of the bathtub, waiting for him to gather enough strength to drag himself back to bed.

I tucked him in with a cold compress, leaving the door open to listen for any trouble, before making myself comfortable on the living room couch. I didn’t get much sleep on it, but that allowed me to see if Erick got up much.

Fortunately he didn’t, probably finally getting some much-needed sleep after his gastro-intestinal exorcism. When it got too light to sleep, I got up, pouring myself a coffee, before preparing the kid’s next antibiotics dose. It took a few nudges to wake him up, but when he did, he was able to drink some more water before flopping down on the pillow again.

“Hungry?” I asked.

He weakly shook his head. I sighed, checking his temperature with my hand. He was still burning up quite a bit.

“When you contract a virus, your immune system tends to shut down your entire digestive system,” I explained, “it expels what’s left inside to flush out any disease particles, and then it turns off the natural urges to eat and drink.”

“That doesn’t sound…very helpful at all,” Erick murmured.

“I know, right? Who designed that nonsense?” I said, “because the shitty thing is, even though you don’t feel like it, you still gotta eat and drink some.”

“Hm…th-the saltines?”

“Saltines it is,” I said, returning to the kitchen to retrieve the package. I put it on the nightstand, reminding him to take it easy, before turning back to the door—

“Don’t go…”

I paused, looking back at the teen for a second. He didn’t seem to fully realise what he had just said, yet I found myself walking back over, grabbing a book from the drawer in the nightstand, and walking around the bed to sit down on the other half of the mattress, propping up a spare pillow in an attempt to alleviate the strain on my back.

“Don’t stare at me,” I said, “close your eyes, get some more rest. And after today, I really gotta get back to work.”

“....thank you…sir.”

I sat with him throughout the day, sneaking out to use the toilet or grab a drink while he slept. By the end of the day, his fever finally dropped a little and his appetite returned as he ate cracker after cracker, and almost emptied a whole bottle of water.

“How are you feeling?” I asked, lowering my book a little. I’d almost made it to the end.

“...little better,” Erick said, glancing at me, but keeping his eyes down, as if he was afraid to look at me. “W-why are you…”

��You asked me to stay,” I said, “it was probably the fever talking, but you slept like a log afterwards.”

“Oh…s-sorry…”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said, “I won’t tell anyone if you don’t.”

“R-right…is there still soup left?”

“Yeah, plenty,” I said, “go clean yourself up a bit, I’ll heat it up.”

Erick nodded, slowly getting out of bed and shuffling towards the bathroom. He left the door open, so I could see him linger outside the bathroom door for a second, head turned slightly as he was probably looking at the front door, before suddenly opening the bathroom door and heading inside.

I released a breath I didn’t realise I’d been holding, afraid he’d make a run for it. But I guess he thought I’d locked the front door. I couldn’t even remember though, so I snuck over to check, locked it, and headed into the kitchen to heat up some more soup.

While I was washing the cup he used last time, he quietly shuffled into the kitchen and sat at the table, keeping his eyes down as he waited for his soup. I filled the cup up and put it in front of him on the table, before handing him a spoon.

“I need to go out tonight,” I said, “are you going to behave?”

“...I don’t get much choice, do I?” the teen said.

“I’m locking you in the bathroom so you have access to the toilet or water if you need it,” I said, answering his question, “can I trust you to be quiet without having to tie you up and gag you?”

“Y-you mean, no screaming? Because…vomiting sounded pretty loud to me…”

“Yeah, nothing louder than that,” I said, “don’t get cocky with me.”

“Sorry, sir…”

“That’s more like it.”

I poured myself some coffee and lit a cigarette, mostly to keep myself busy while waiting for him to finish eating. He had a lot more colour on his face. Hopefully it would keep heading in the right direction.

“Do I have to take that pill again?” Erick asked, carefully scraping the last few freeze-dried, tasteless vegetables from his cup.

“Yeah, I’ll give it to you before I leave,” I said.

“Where are you going?”

“The less you know, the better. Now no more questions,” I said, getting up to get ready.

Erick went quiet again. He took his antibiotics without protest, and quietly headed into the bathroom when I nudged him in that direction. I let him take a pillow with the advice to make himself comfortable in the bathtub, before placing a chair against the bathroom door.

“And if this is even one inch out of place when I get back, you’ll have another thing coming!” I warned through the door, before grabbing a last few things and heading out.

The girl I was supposed to target lived pretty close-by, so I opted to walk instead of taking the van. That way Ethel wouldn’t be any wiser at least. If I left in the middle of the night she would come knocking the next day asking questions. She meant well, but with Erick locked in my bathroom, it was really inconvenient…

I walked over to the girl’s neighbourhood, finding her house, and finding a secluded spot to hang out, that wouldn’t draw any attention from nosy neighbours. Not that many were still awake. Most houses had either all lights off, or only the bedroom lights still burning. It was just after bedtime, which was prime-time for sneaking out according to the girl’s blog.

And sure enough. The light of their front porch flickered on, while the teen girl quietly stepped through the front door and closed it behind her, locking it and hiding the key under the mat. That way she couldn’t lose it I guess.

She then walked out of the street. I followed at a big enough distance to not be noticed, staying in darker areas in the shadows, and just outside of the street lanterns’ cones of light. About two streets down, she met up with a group of friends, and they slowly strolled towards town together. I could basically follow them through the noise they made alone, and when they mingled with a bigger crowd, it was easy for me to blend in too.

I followed her to a nightclub whose bouncer didn’t pay too much attention to the ID’s, making it easy for the underage group to get inside. I decided not to follow them inside. Instead I found a cafe across the street with a view on the club’s door, sipping coffees until at four AM I finally spotted my target again, stumbling out of the club and into the alley next to it to vomit into the dumpster.

Her friends weren’t with her it seemed, and she stumbled towards home all by her lonesome. I quickly paid for my drinks and followed from a good distance. She moved slowly, but headed straight towards home with only a small detour past a drinking fountain on a playground. When she made it home, I made a note of the time before heading back to my apartment.

When I stepped through the front door, I found Erick had kept his word and hadn’t left the bathroom. His fever had spiked a little again, but he’d fashioned a cold compress with a washcloth and cold water from the sink, and tried to get some sleep in the bathtub.

I let him out and let him sleep in my bed again so he could get some more good rest. The sooner he got well the better. It would be easier to focus on work that way.

The next couple nights I let him stay in the bathroom again, so I could go out and learn the target’s pattern. She didn’t party every night, only most of them. And when she partied, it was always with the same friends at the same club, and finally the same lonely route home.

It took about two weeks in total to figure out her pattern, and by that time Erick was doing a lot better too. He used up all the antibiotics, I could lock him in the kitchen cupboard at night with some water again, and during the day he stayed quiet and out of my way in exchange for unlimited access to tap water, the bathroom and whatever reading material I had lying around. He seemed entertained enough by sudoku puzzles from a stack of old newspapers, or he was too afraid to voice that he was bored.

“Um…”

I looked up from my laptop as he suddenly spoke up. It felt like I hadn’t heard his voice in days, that light tremble as if he was about to speak to a crowd of thousands for the first time in his life.

“What?” I asked as he hesitated.

“D-do you want something to drink, sir?”

He was standing by the kitchen counter, fumbling with the water bottle he’d been reusing all week. I looked inside my coffee cup. It had been empty for a while.

“Coffee,” I said, holding the cup out to him, “do you know how to brew a pot?”

“...no,” he admitted, though he took the cup.

“First you take the pot, flush out the last bits of coffee with some water,” I said, sitting back and fishing my pack of cigarettes from my pocket. The teen nodded, putting the cup and his bottle down and carefully washing the old coffee out of the pot.

“Then you fill the pot about halfway, I think the number next to the stripe is six?” I continued, before lighting a cigarette and taking a drag, “you pour that water in the reservoir behind the filter, the hinge of the lid is broken so you can just lift the whole thing off.”

The teen nodded, taking the lid off and looking at the top of the machine for a second before identifying the reservoir and pouring the water in.

“The old filter you can take out and throw in the trash, use two hands, or it’ll tear,” I said, “new filters are in the drawer, and I keep my coffee in the tin can next to the machine.”

“How much do I put in, sir?” Erick asked, gingerly placing the new filter in the machine.

“Was the indicator on the pot six?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Then three scoops’ll do it,” I said, “with top for a strong cup, scraped down to precision for a regular cup.”

“Okay…do you want a strong cup then?”

“No, I’ll take regular now.”

I watched how he carefully scraped the excess coffee from the spoon before putting it in the filter, and gave the last instructions after he’d closed the tin of coffee again.

“Now you close everything, make sure the pot is in the middle and flip the switch.”

He nodded, putting the lid back on and checking the pot’s position before pressing the only button at the bottom of the machine. It immediately began hissing and bubbling as it heated up the water and a moment later a stream of fresh coffee began dripping into the pot below.

“It takes about five minutes before it stops dripping and then it just keeps the plate hot until you turn it off,” I said.

“It’s so simple,” Erick commented, moving to the sink to grab his water, “at home it…pretty much just comes out of the wall, with milk and sugar mixed in if you want.”

“Well, this is how the rest of the country gets its coffee,” I said.

“He still hasn’t paid, has he?”

“...not that I’ve heard,” I said, after another drag, “don’t think too much about it. I’ll get my money, even if I have to drag you around for a year.”

“A-a year?”

“Three hundred grand is a lot of money for someone living off of simple means,” I said, “and if I have to, I’ll find ways to make you earn your keep. The coffee’s a good start.”

“But why would he wait a year?”

“That’s between you and your old man, kid,” I said, “and if the answer isn’t to your liking, just take whatever money he has left and start a life for yourself. But for now, just do as you’re told and you’ll be fine.”

He stayed quiet for a moment, letting my words sink in before turning back to the counter, watching the pot fill up slowly.

“D-do you put anything in your coffee, sir?”

“No. I drink it black.”

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[rajanilefreak]

phone usage and bad parenting rant

So I guess my mom wants to start a war of pettiness with me again over my phone and how much time I spend on it.

And in most cases with other people I am likelier to give the parent in the situation all the validity. I do spend a LOT of time in my phone reading fanfiction or watching youtube videos. BUT my mom is a whole different beast in this category.

So here we have this grown ass woman that managed to give me an allergy to any sort of news channel or program of any sort because that was the only fucking thing she put on during meals since I was a literal child and because she didn't bother to cultivate an interest on the news in me. I literally spent meal time bored out of my mind because it's not like she's going to bother explaining the most complicated topics or even just regular conversation because she is too focused on what's going on in the news to interact with her own child. Adding to that the fact that my family was always very delayed when it came to getting new technology make for a me that is very fascinated with android because they are like a phone and a computer put together.

This, of course, results in a young adult that has the tendency of zoning out during meals, which seem to be the only time mother dearest has for actual family bonding aside from some weekends (only some because me be busy too), latching onto my phone for my reading which, of course, she doesn't like.

But thing is... she had a lot of opportunities to foster some interaction with me. it's not like it's the first time she complained about my phone habits and I stated right back to her that it didn't matter because she wouldn't be talking to be anyway and then spent a few days not touching the phone during meals just to prove a point (which she either failed to notice, or only bothered correcting course for like one or two meals before going back to ignoring me and only occasionally releasing some commentary that didn't even really need my reply at all). And not just during meals either. I've went as far a sitting right there next to her on the couch for the perfect opening for her to talk to me. heck, I've even went as far as actually starting the conversations to see if she finally woke up and smelled the roses. But always, ALWAYS, she just kept on watching the tv show or movie she was watching or doing her sudoku puzzles or what else she might have on hand and all conversation I started would just fizzle out with only me making an effort.

Adding to that, the few times she does want to talk it always has to be about things she cares about. She definitely doesn't care to make an effort in understanding my interests (she's definitely one of those people that sees their teens watching anime and asks if they aren't getting too old to watch cartoons but then refuses to take the time and see what they like about them, let alone any other interest they might get).

She is also stupidly competitive when it comes to the kitchen. There was a time I was considering investing in getting myself a café. So, of course, i wanted to practice a bit my baking. And I'm fairly good as a baker, not extraordinary, but fairly good for as little experience I have. the problem with testing my potential future products is that we'd have to eat them because we don't have a lot of friends (for multiple reasons), let alone anyone close enough to deliver the goodies to while still fresh, so we'd have to eat most of them ourselves, especially since money was tight.

And despite knowing that I needed to practice baking if I wanted to open a caffé (which was originally an idea she pitched at me herself), she decided it was the perfect time for her to start baking sweets too. So, not only did I have less time in the kitchen because she was there, I also had to be more mindful of what was purchased because, as I said, money was tight.

Not only that, but also my mom absolutely loves to fat shame her daugthers. And I mean, she was already fat shaming us before we actually became overweight over stuff we ate. And with her also baking stuff that we would have to eat (which she always pushed the lion share to me because she's "old and has to be mindful of her health and doesn't want to get fat"), of course I ended up gaining weight. So I had to stop baking or I would become the size of a house on top of dealing with her bullshit.

And it's not like we could both work together on baking the same thing because she only cared about baking what she wanted and even if I magically convinced to bake the things I wanted to practice she is very much the type to be as unhelpfull as possible. very 'it's her way or not at all' type of person. just imagine those backseat drivers and you get the point. And it's not just in baking. It's in everything.

So, not even in the things we do have in common can we actually communicate in a healthy manner.

With all of this said would you rather be on your phone doing something you like and that relaxes you or would you rather either being ignored the whole time (literally replacing you with a wall would have the same effect for the few dialog options she has), shamed for being overweight but then having the excess food shoved your way anyway because this lady's health is more important than yours and she absolutely insists we can't waste food, or have her rant at you over some perceived failing you had?

Honestly, i much prefer the fanfics or watching a youtuber rant. As least the first is relaxing and the second far more entertaining.

So yeah, i agree that my phone usage is excessive at time and I got some very habits out of it, but when the only other option is... THAT! Well. I think I'm actually healthier that I would have been otherwise.

[mysmorgasbordoffantabulosa]

In his recent live, Jin talks about the delay in their enlistment due to various reasons and thereby the hate comments they have been receiving. The comments online around this are so ridiculous -

1. BTS sacrificed for the Army and endured hate comments - BTS is my favourite band and I love them to bits but nothing they do is purely only for love. Everything, and I repeat, every single thing they do has a commercial angle to it. Nothing was a sacrifice. It was purely an analysis of what will get them through the enlistment period with least financial impact to them and the company. While no one deserves the hate they get, I wish the fandom would stop painting them as saints and treat them as the extremely talented musicians yet human that they are!!

2. BH forced them to delay - As on date BTS is a far bigger brand than BH. Just the word 'hiatus' had wiped out 30 % of their market cap overnight. While BTS has a little skin in the game, BH will be at a much bigger loss, were they to separate from BTS as on date. That is why there has been repeated messaging from everyone about this not being their last concert and they have years to come. BTS certainly has the upper hand in negotiation. Any company across the world would be open to sign them individually or as a group given the cash machines they are!! No way BH can force anything they do not absolutely want to do against their will.

3. Free 'xyz' from BH - Again these guys have no clue how the real world works. BTS are not kids needing protection, they are all well functioning fairly smart adults. They also have access to the best legal and financial advisory money can buy. They can protect themselves much better than any social media warrior can protect them.

As much as I hate Corden I don't think he was wrong when he said most of the fans were teenagers ( at least by the maturity level they seem to be )

The more we start treating them as humans and adults the freer they will be. As of now the critics alternate between trying fight wars that BTS themselves have no interest in fighting or hating them for the smallest deviations from prescribed behaviour.

While this is true for most of K-media it is more so for BTS given they are under microscopic lens.

Sorry about long rant post! Unfortunately went on Quora out of boredom today. This is the result 😌

We all occasionally need to rant it's therapeutic!

Just to add / comment on you some of your thoughts...

Regarding ARMY being teens (or at least mentally so), I think you have to understand most ARMY don't comment negatively, most tend to stay positive and be proactively supportive.

Twitter ARMY is a whole different beast to Mainstream ARMY, they are the ones quick to draw conclusions, will fight with each other over their stan/ship, there are always some who are just constantly negative. I think Twitter hold a lot fo the blame for how the wider K-Pop and likes of Corden perceive ARMY, and because Twitter tends to skew young, it's easy to equate ARMY as being young.

I do agree about how we see them and treat them is gonna have to change, and with military enlistment there is a good possibility that, that could happen. It will weed out the wheat from the chaff in ARMY and hopefu people will become more mature and enough to let them be themselves.

I hope it comes quickly.

[1dmonthlyficroundup]

1D Monthly Fic Roundup

Hi, and welcome to the 1D Monthly Fic Roundup for July 2021! Below you’ll find One Direction fics that were all published this month in the order they were submitted to the blog. We hope you’ll check out these new fics! If you would like to submit your own fic, please check this post on how to submit or visit our blog @1dmonthlyficroundup​.

Happy reading!

Game Changer by @neondiamond

[Harry/Louis, 6k, Mature, tumblr post]

“Did the doctor say what was wrong with you?”

“He thought I was pregnant,” Louis scoffs. “Told me to go home and take a test, a pregnancy test, Haz. Can you imagine the nerve it takes for him to even think that?”

Harry looks lost in his thoughts for a few seconds. “Did you? Take a test, I mean?”

“Of course I didn’t.”

OR: A couple months before playing in his first long-awaited World Cup, Louis finds out he’s pregnant. Harry’s there for the ride.

(I Was Broke) You Healed Me by @fallinglikethis

[Harry/Niall, 12k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

Niall Horan is an unmated pregnant omega living on his own after his alpha boyfriend leaves him. Far from his family and friends in Ireland, Niall is stuck living in a complex for Alpha/Omega bondmates, terrified every day of being found out by his landlord.As if that isn't enough, he's suffering from touch deprivation. Luckily, Niall's doctor can at least help him with that part: she prescribes Niall some cuddle sessions. It's only a little weird that the person she's prescribing him is her brother. Or maybe that's actually a little bit perfect.

The Only Pain in Pleasure is the Pleasure of the Pain by Layne Faire / @laynefaire

[Liam/Zayn, 10k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Liam had followed InZaynity, an artist's Instagram, for ages. Not only was the artist incredibly talented, his voice poured over Liam like warm honey on a winter's night, and his hands were the stuff Liam's wank dreams were made of. However, having Zayn unexpectedly arrive as the newest artist at his best friend's tattoo shop brought Liam's fantasies and reality a little too close for comfort.

Zayn Malik met his boss' friend on his first day at Fine Line Tattoos, and felt an instant attraction. Unfortunately, given Liam's unwillingness to even hold a conversation with him, Zayn was certain the feelings weren't reciprocal. Or were they?

When Liam's new tattoo design falls outside the scope of Tommo's talent, and he recommends Zayn do it, Liam reluctantly agrees. Surely he could manage to spend hours in Zayn's company without revealing his biggest secret, right? Right?

Blow Me Away by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

[Louis/Liam, 6k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Louis likes giving blow jobs.

He doesn't exactly get off on it – he's been with people who properly loved it, and he's not quite that into it – but he doesn't mind the feel or the taste and he really, really likes watching his partner lose it, so getting down on his knees regularly is a no brainer.

Which is why it's a bit frustrating that every time he does, Liam hauls him back up again.

Why Didn't We Make Out the Night We Met? by @berzerkshires

[Louis/Harry, 52k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Louis and Harry meet in an alley outside the hotel Louis is staying for the weekend. Harry introduces himself as Ed, and Louis is completely clueless. They have a relationship through text messages, phone calls, shared pictures and Facetime calls. Is a cell phone being the only source of communication enough? Will Louis ever learn that he's really talking to an international popstar? And what happens when the world is shutdown due to a wide spread virus?

I Love This Feeling (But I Hate This Part) by @lululawrence

[Harry/Louis, 7k, Not rated, tumblr post]

“Stand up.”

Harry stood up from the couch, not a moment’s delay.

“Oh my god, is that what that’s like?” Harry turned to Louis, surprise on his face. “I really thought they were somehow exaggerating, but it really is an automatic response with absolutely no thought from me behind it whatsoever.”

Louis sighed again. “You really wanna keep doing this? Have me use my alpha voice on you so you can work on resisting it?”

“Yup,” Harry said, clapping his hands and smiling. “How else am I going to be able to have any chance at reducing the power an alpha voice has on me?”

I Said It Wrong, But I Meant It Right by @lululawrence

[Liam/Nick Grimshaw, 4k, Not rated, tumblr post]

Nick was a bit of a disaster, but she was used to it.

Or so she thought. She had never known how much she could struggle just to function until the new fire lady goddess angel person winked at her.

Oh, Those Summer Nights by cherrylarry / @beelou

[Louis/Harry, 1k, General, tumblr post]

“Are you okay?” He kneels down to inspect where Harry still has his hand pressed against his head.

“Oh! Yeah, I’m fine.”

“My name’s Louis. Can I buy you dinner or something to make up for hitting you in the head?”

Harry crinkles his eyebrows. “Me?”

Louis chuckles. “Yes, you. If you’d like?”

“Yeah. That would be nice.” Harry smiles so that his dimples show. “I’m Harry.”

“Harry, it's a date, then." Louis grins.

An extended scene of the beginning of the movie Grease as a larry au

people fall in love in mysterious ways (maybe just the touch of a hand) by @vintageumbroshirt / 28sunflowers, @justalarryblog / Bekita, @bluecolouredlou , @beelou / cherrylarry, @thedevilinmybrain / devilinmybrain, @hershelsue / docklands, @foreverfanficaddict,@idolizingthelight / idolizingthelightt, @inlockets / loveroflou, @perfectdagger, @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed / we_are_the_same

[Louis/Harry, 13k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

Set in a world where meeting your soulmate causes a literal spark, Louis Tomlinson has no time for fate. He knows all too well the heartbreak that having a soulmate can bring and he'd rather avoid the whole affair. But, when a chance meeting with up-and-coming popstar, Harry Styles, causes the biggest electrical surge the world has ever seen, Louis must confront the truth that sometimes destiny knocks when you least expect it.

Somehow, Someway by @zanniscaramouche

[Louis/Harry, 16k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

Louis Tomlinson has everything all figured out for a smooth post-graduation sailing into the perfect career in the music industry. A canceled class, a high school play, and a disarming set of dimples were not part of the plan. (Especially when they belong to a boy wearing someone else’s jacket.)

Featuring: A punk with the worst timed crush in history, that moody art kid that never shares cigarettes, the cutest pastel-pink wearing boy on the planet, and his unfortunately nice bottle-blond jock of a boyfriend.

Forts & Fortunes by @neondiamond

[Louis/Harry, 2k, General, tumblr post]

It’s finals week at uni and Harry is struggling to find a healthy balance between studying and tending to his needs. Lucky for him, Louis is there to help him out with that.

One way to reduce tension by @neondiamond

[Harry/Louis, 1k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Harry knows of a few ways to help Louis get rid of some pent up stress…

We Got a Call by @greenblueish / bluegreenish

[Louis/Harry, 24k, Mature, tumblr post]

“Fisher from St Peter hospital, hello. Is this Mr Tomlinson?”

Louis’ eyebrows furrow in concern. Why is the hospital calling him? Has someone he knows been in an accident? “Uh, yes?”

“Great. Your results are in. Congratulations, you’re pregnant!”

“Pregnant?” he chokes, the word almost getting caught in his throat.

“Yes, without doubt,” the woman from the hospital confirms, her voice neutral but somehow chirpy. “I recommend promptly booking an appointment with your ob/gyn to discuss how to proceed.”

"I...Yeah, I’ll talk to my … partner.”

or, the one where Louis and Harry Tomlinson are married and Louis accepts a phone call that was definitely meant for his husband.

How Long Will We Fall (Before We Can Climb) by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou

[Louis/Harry, 860 words, General, tumblr post]

Louis' faith in Harry is unbreakable. When they get caught kissing and he is thrown out of his home forever, he has to learn to have faith in himself.

Rope, Leather and Lipstick by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou

[Louis/Harry, 552 words, Mature, tumblr post]

Something about ropes around wrists, and tinting skin the colour of strawberry ice cream, tender and kissed by dark lips. Smudging sticky red lipstick across the slight blue shadow of veins, and assuring hands tightening knots.

Lies & Liability by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou

[Louis/Harry, 34k, Mature, tumblr post]

Harry Styles has only three wishes when he leaves River Dane Manor to go to Town for his first season: that his sister has rented a townhouse that will provide him as many of the comforts of the country life he has grown accustomed to as possible, that he will not trip and fall when he is presented to Her Majesty the Queen, and that he will enter matrimony out of true love, no matter how favourable the match with any which alpha may be.

Sugar at Night by @brightgolden

[Harry/Louis, 33k, Explicit, tumblr post]

With a year left before he completes his degree, a wonderful fiancé, and a baby coming soon, life is going exceptionally well for Harry Styles.

But, the truth always has a way to unravel itself, doesn’t it?

So, what do you do when the person you fell in love with is not the person you thought they were?

I got myself in a mess (and without you I'm in more) by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed / we_are_the_same

[Zayn/Liam, 9k, Mature, tumblr post]

It’s not desire that has his synapses firing. It’s not the urge to jump him that makes him feel jittery.

It’s the fact that everything about this man - a nice, unassuming guy on Tinder, who studied IT and who seemed like a safe choice - screams danger. It’s the fact that Zayn has been absently touching his necklace for what feels like half the night now.

The necklace. Thank God for Lou, honestly. He’d laughed a bit, at first, when Louis had given it to him, when he’d explained all about the app that it was connected to, the emergency contacts that would be notified and sent his exact location “if you just double tap the back of the charm, see” because Louis was that friend, the mom friend, but right now? Right now Zayn will gladly take the gentle ribbing from Louis if it means he won’t have to spend another moment with this guy.

I don't care if the world knows by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed / we_are_the_same

[Louis/Harry, 6k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

Harry is fourteen when she buys her first binder. She’s been doing cosplay videos on Tiktok for a while at that point, and it seems like the logical choice. Not that there’s anything wrong with cosplaying characters of the opposite gender and not wanting to fully look like them, she’s seen plenty of wonderful creators put their own spin on characters in a way that transcends the source material, but when it comes to her own cosplays -

She just likes it to be accurate.

She likes her chest to be flat, not soft and curvy, when she’s wearing her Crowley cosplay, or when she’s transformed herself into Loki.

It’s all about the aesthetics.

∞

Over the course of a few years, Harry explores and comes to terms with gender identity.

It’s Probably Because I’ve Got a Big Lesbian Crush on You by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright

[Louis/Harry, 6k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

Harry's never really concerned herself with being part of the popular crowd. But as the new girl in school the second semester of her junior year, she finds herself unwittingly competing for Queen Bee status against high school royalty Louis Tomlinson. Maybe there's more to their rivalry than it seems.

A not-quite-Mean Girls AU

Going Green (so fucking green) by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright

[Louis/Harry, 5k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Harry just really loves being used, and Louis really loves Harry. Who is he to deny him?

Or: Reduce, Reuse, Recycle but make it BDSM

the next bit was spanners to my plan by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

[Louis/Nick Grimshaw, 6k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

The first time was an accident. The second time was an accident too.

Or: Louis and Nick end up shagging on the sly, everyone sends far too many emojis and far too few words, and eventually they're going to have to sort themselves out.

Trust Me Tonight by @vintageumbroshirt / 28sunflowers

[Louis/Harry, 10k, Explicit, tumblr post]

After Harry’s eighteenth birthday, his father calls him into a meeting to say that he is to be married to Prince Louis of France in just over a week.

Harry is excited, of course. The arrangement is better than any he could’ve hoped for, with such a young, handsome and kind husband.

There is just one issue: Harry doesn’t know what happens on his nuptials, or how to get pregnant to give Louis the heir that he needs.

Can we make it any more obvious? by LouStylesHTommo / @smolhilariousbeans

[Louis/Harry, 6k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Five times the boys accidentally walked in on Harry & Louis plus one time they did it on purpose.

Aka Niall, Zayn, Liam being supportive of Lou&H sexy shenanigans.

darling just dive right in by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed / we_are_the_same

[Zayn/Louis, 5k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

Louis can’t think of a worse place to be than at the Malik estate, attending his ex boyfriend's wedding.

Shining just for you by ThoseFookin_Avacados / @hlhome28

[Harry/Louis, 1k, General, tumblr post]

For a clumsy person, Harry danced with quite the grace- spinning around Louis, billowy light robes brushing against his firm darker ones. Despite his slightly smaller build, Louis was decivingly strong, his grip on Harry's waist tight as they performed their steps in sync. Like two opposite halves of a whole, like ones reflection in the mirror, like the sun and the moon.

Part 2 of the Prompt Generator series

crown me with your heart (your love is king) by @perfectdagger

[Louis/Harry, 41k, General, tumblr post]

The universe must’ve had a field day when it decided to plan Harry’s life. There was no plausible explanation for anything that happened in his life anymore. Try as he may, he would never be able to control his life nor predict what would happen next. What were the odds that the one person he was sure he had fallen in love with but had completely let him slip out of his life, already resigned to the fact nothing could ever evolve between them due to Harry’s future with Eroda, happened to be the same person who had Harry’s future in his hand?

A The Princess Diaries 2: Royal Wedding au in which Harry is the Crown Prince of the small island of Eroda and Louis’ uncle is trying to take the throne from him, with a slight a/b/o twist and some more.

[i-cant-sing]

Daniel and YN part 9 🌗🌗

“Sensei, I think we have a lead on Daniel and YN.” “Tell me more, Tomura.” Shigaraki’s spine tingles when his master speaks.

His father figure, his sensei. Desperate to please, he pulled up the file his rat in the police station grabbed. “Last week there was an incident at the cafe in the pink district. There were several vases destroyed from an unknown explosion. The windows were cracked from trembling so hard. Almost all the footage tapes were melted, melted in the camera holder. When examined, the broken materials were giving off radiation. Radiation so bad it left a cop in the hospital.” “Interesting… you said almost all the footage?” “Yes. My rat got me the only tape that survived. When I watched it, I think I saw them.” AFO tilted his head. It was progressing faster than planned, but of course he was prepared for that possibility. Daniel seemed to be more subject to his emotions than his sister. Over the years AFO did not see an improvement on his mental development. It seemed that he would need to intervene sooner than expected if he did not want to lose his child to a hero. “Sensei. There’s also news that All Might and his protege are investigating the incident.” Now that was a complication. All Might and his other child should not be allowed total influence over the two. It was time to enact a different plan. One that involved seeing his past wife. “Thank you Tomura. I want you to keep an eye out for them. They are not to be harmed. I have to make arrangements. When you find them make sure you keep a nullifier on hand. In case Daniel needs to be calmed down.” With that, AFO hung up and opened a portal to the Midoryia household. He hasn’t gone by Midoryia for a long time, but even so he did not expect a warm welcome from his past wife. And when she opened the door to him, the look of worry on her face confirmed his suspicions. “They’re not here. Izuku is out trying to find YN. You can’t lash out at him or All Might. They’re-” “I plan to find them first. Izuku is not capable of handling Daniel’s quirk if they upset him. And you underestimate YN. She is very adept at hiding and defense.” “How would you know?” “Because I keep a watchful eye on all my children.” “All your..?” “Four years before we conceived Izuku, I donated my DNA for a little… experiment. The mother had a minor quirk involving radiation. From that pregnancy cane Daniel. Four years later, months after we conceived Izuku, I had my DNA donated again. YN was born from that.” “They 're just experiments to you?” “At first, yes. I did not plan to get attached. But I did. And I have been attached since. I was there when Daniel first displayed reminances of a quirk. I was there when YN learned to balance herself on a high wire. I found them when they were lost. I arranged for her mother’s job to move her to this district and apartment building. I’m the reason you gained custody of them if you recall the deal we made.” “I…” “My point is I may not have been there for Izuku’s life but I have been there for my other two. And I don’t plan to relinquish my children to All Might or those heroes. Is that understood, All Might?” Inko turned around to see her son and his mentor standing in the doorway. Both were glaring at the villain. Ready to ounce at him if need be. But without him she would lose the children. “Mom get away from him.” “Is that any way to speak to your father Izuku?” “YOU LEFT!” Before the fighting could get any worse Inko stood between them. “My baby, my love.” She turned to All Might and Izuku. “We may not like it but he is their father. And he probably would be useful to returning YN and Daniel safely. We have to sit down and figure this out. For them.” So with great tension, Two rivals sat across a dinner table along with a green haired boy and a troubled mother. All discussing the custody of two individuals that didn’t belong to them. 🌗🌗

Daniel and YN part 10 🌗🌗

Sometimes YN wished she had made more of an effort to make friends. Yes Daniel was her best and closest friend, but it would be nice to have a girl or boy her own age to talk to. Someone that she could talk about stupid crap with. She tried being friends with Izuku when she and her brother officially moved in with the Midoryia’s, but they never saw her or Daniel as their own people. Izuku never really cared that YN was great at math. The best in her class. That she had a tiny interest in math because the answers were always exact and never had to be debated. He didn’t bother to care that YN liked reading romance and horror stories, that she really liked cheesy murder mystery movies with a twist villain hidden in plain sight. Izuku knew those things about her, but he just wrote it down in his notebook and filed it away like she wasn’t a person. They were no better to Daniel either. He was treated like an incompetant child. Like he was stupid and a baby. Sure he was disabled but he wasn’t incapable of everything. If they bothered talking and treating him like a person they’d see how complex he was. They’d see that he was so talented when he painted, that he could find a focus on the small important details. That Daniel, while he couldn’t understand complex emotions, could create beautiful things. Daniel had a delayed mind, but he loved figuring out puzzles. Daniel loved pinwheels and painted windmills, loved when they spun to beautiful colours. But did they care, no they saw only a child that needed to be coddled and kept away from how beautiful the world could be. YN couldn’t help but tear up as she held her knees to her chest. Why? Why couldn’t Izuku have been the friend she needed when her parents died? Why didn’t she try harder to make friends when she was at public school? Why did she act so introverted and angry at everyone? Just as she was about to cry, YN felt two long arms wrap around her. “Why you sad?” “It’s nothing really. I just… I really miss momma and pop. I really wish they were here.” “....Me too.” So the two hugged tightly. For tonight and every night that will come, they’ll have each other. In another place, a skinny blue haired villain placed a severed hand on his face. Determined to please his master, his father figure, Shigaraki set out to find the two troubled teens. They couldn’t be hidden forever. Besides, AFO should be allowed to see his children. He was their father, by blood. Shigaraki wasn’t an idiot though. He knew that the incident caused a commotion for those hungry for power. Ready to use quirk off the Boy. Shigaraki made sure to send some of his underlings out to gather intel and report whether or not other crimelords had their sights and claws on the teens. He had to be careful not to cause a scene and bring the heroes upon them. As the cold night blew his hair slightly, Shigaraki pondered the situation. Sensei had a wife, and three children? But not all share the same mother. He didn’t raise his three children, but he looked after them. But out of all of them Sensei chose to raise Shigaraki. He felt special. Sensei wanted to be near him. Nonetheless, these two were family. His sorta siblings. And he would bring them home. 🌗🌗

Daniel and YN part 11 🌗🌗

Young Izuku had the foundations to be a great hero. He was kind, string in heart, brave, and a little stupid. Toshinori knew that he would make a fine owner of OFA. And when he trained the boy he saw the makings of a new symbol of peace. Inko was a beautiful woman, even if she was too anxious to notice. He felt this urge to love and protect her. And over the months with her and Izuku, they formed a genuine love. Toshinori was a little concerned at first when he met YN and Daniel though. He did not really understand why they were kept so sheltered and why they were so babied. YN seemed like a capable young woman. But like with Izuku and Inko, the more time he spent near them, the more he felt protective, loving, obsessive. “Ah, good morning young YN. How was your night?” “What do you think. You stole my switchblade.” Inko seemed to bristle a bit at YN’s angry tone. “Sweetie.. We just thought that you could get hurt. It’s for the best. You know that w-” “That you only want the best for me. Yea I heard the same argument over and over again. And each time it’s still bull.” Before either could reprimand her, she stomped to her room slamming the door. Mornings usually weren’t so great. Especially when the night before they had to make big decisions regr=arding her safety. On All Might’s days off he would spend time with the Midoryia’s, sometimes it would go smoothly and sometimes the mood couldn’t surpass a funeral. All Might felt that he should’ve noticed the signs that YN was going to run away sooner. Perhaps then he could have intervened and then the whole family could air out why things were the way they were.

The first signs had to be when YN kept interfering with the way Inko felt was right to take care of poor Daniel. “Come on Daniel, It’s time to go to the learning center.” “Oh sweetie, I forgot to tell you that we pulled Daniel out of the center classes.” “What?” When YN’s face turned, All Might could see that a screaming match would begin, well not really a match considering young YN would be doing all the screaming. He was just here to pick up young Midoryia but he couldn’t help but stop in. “Well it’s just that Daniel learns so much better at a home, and the center is full of so many people that would be mean to him. Besides, he doesn’t really need to be at the center when I can take care of him.” “Yes he does! How is he gonna learn to cook and clean and manage any type of money if you refuse to let him learn!?!” “Daniel’s mind can’t handle all the new information. He might start to panic and his quirk might-” “YOU don’t know a GODDAMN thing about him! About what is best for him! You wanna do what’s best for my brother?! Than STOP treating him like he’s completely incompetent!” Before she could yell another word All Might stepped in with his trademark ‘I AM HERE’ . “Now young YN that’s no way to speak to your foster mother. She just believes that someone more personal should be teaching Daniel these things. That's not so bad is it?” “But-” “IS IT?” “Fine.I’ll get my school work done early so that I can teach Daniel in the afternoon.”

With that the argument was resolved. If only that was the last time she lashed out at them. If only he prevented the biggest fight that broke out between Izuku and YN. “Will you stop pestering him about his quirk?! It obviously makes him uncomfortable!” YN had walked into the room seeing Izuku asking Daniel all sorts of questions about his quirk and how he used it. It would’ve been fine had he stopped at the first two questions, but he kept going on and on. Wouldn’t stop asking about the destructive qualities, or about how his mind sometimes couldn’t comprehend his own quirk. Izuku didn’t notice how uncomfortable Daniel was getting. “I was just asking him some questions!” “You were being a jerk!” Before Izuku could yell at her again, the table and the mirrors broke. Both turned to see Daniel staring furious and scared, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Don’t scream at my sister!” He spoke angrily. He was so brave, so ready to defend his baby sister. Daniel could’ve brought the whole room down, had All Might in his ultimate form not stepped and stopped him. All Might should’ve known not to grab him and held him down. He should’ve known that the constriction made Daniel panic. Made him destroy more things to make it stop. The screaming continued, until YN grabbed her brother and calmed him. They barricaded themselves in her room that night. And in the morning, the three tried to act like it didn’t happen. All Might took the kids out for the day. Celebrating Izuku’s placement in the hero program. The signs were there that day. The signs that they were going to run. That they were going to leave. If only All Might had seen the signs. If only Toshinori hadn’t gotten attached to them. 🌗🌗

Daniel and YN part 12 🌗🌗

Toshinori was a good man. He wasn’t perfect but he was a good man. He had a moral code and knew right from wrong. Though selfish desires sometimes took his attention more than the moral desires. He knew it was wrong to smother and coddle Daniel and YN, but he couldn’t help wanting to protect them. Even if they didn’t want it. He felt like Izuku, YN, and Daniel were like his children. He felt just as protective over Izuku as he was over YN and Daniel. But he couldn’t coddle him like the other two. He had a duty to Nana to pass on OFA, Izuku had to live up to that power now. And he was so dedicated to being a hero. Toshinori wanted to do right by all the kids. He felt that it was his duty to find his missing kids, and bring them home. Let YN know that he didn’t feel angry that she left. Let Daniel know that he was sorry. So before he could work with his arch enemy, he decided to learn more about the two. So that when they were found again, he could show them that he was ready to be a real mentor figure, a guardian. When he entered YN’s room, it was not what he expected. He thought the sullen looking problem child would have grunge posters, a dirty room, torn up clothes and what not. Imagine his surprise when he saw colourful mini lantern lights strung over the walls. A math book along with several romance and horror storybooks. Her bedspread was a mix of several pillows and a giant comforter. Something that he’s sure would look inviting after a long day. There was a fluffy rug that cushioned his feet. The curtains were dark and cut out all light. On her bookshelf there was a collection of old murder mystery and comedy movies. When he popped one into the small tv player, he felt a stronger connection than before with her. Laughing at the cheesy twists and overacting. She was more than just a quirkless victim. She felt like a daughter to him. Toshinori never understood why he never went into Daniel’s room before. Of course Inko was there. Holding Daniel’s favorite pillow. This room, like the other, was a window into someone that Toshinori never actually knew. For some reason he thought Daniel would have soft light wall colors and some doodles on the wall. But the walls were an earthy dark blue. His blankets were patterned with prints of old paintings. There were canvases of unfinished pieces of art littered around the desk and bed. Notes and papers of unconnected thoughts all tucked away in a drawer. He spotted a framed photo of what he assumed were Daniel’s parents. Hidden under his pillows. When he saw the ceiling, it was a mix of a starry night sky but had handprints all over. In various colors. Touching his own hand to the print, Toshinori felt a connection to the boy. It was like a click happened. He wasn’t just a boy struggling with his developmental disability. Daniel saw the world in colors and was just frustrated that no one could understand those colors. Daniel wasn’t an emotionally compromised person with a violent quirk, he was a boy who wanted to be happy and understood. That day, Toshinori finally felt the wall that was preventing him from really understanding these two was finally lifted. And had he been listening to his moral side he would’ve known to not pursue them. But his selfish side won that fight. With his new understanding came an ugly obsession. A protective instinct to hold and protect them even more. Whilst quirkless YN might be strong and smart, she was too emotional and easy to provoke. Daniel might not be safe out there either. He loses control when people don’t understand. But Toshinori understood now. He would keep his children safe. Izuku, Daniel, and YN. Even if he had to work with the devil. “I’ll bring you home. Everything will be okay. Because I am here.” 🌗🌗

Amazing work as always moon anon! The story has become quite interesting! Its inspiring me to write for platonic AFO, something that I've not talked about for quite a while. Him and well, Erasermic

[writethelifeyouwant]

Meet the Parents

Pairing: Cordell x Trevor x Stella 

Rating: 18+

Summary: When Stella brings her boyfriend home from college to stay the weekend, they are planning on doing a bit more than just “spending the night together”... and it certainly turns out to be more than that once Cordell overhears them in Stella’s room.  

Word Count: 4.7k

Created for: @walker-bingo​ Free Space | @anyfandomgoesbingo​ Meet the Parents/Family

Tags/Warnings: Incest, Father/Daughter Incest, Threesome, fingering (f and m rec), oral (f rec), rimming, instruction kink, daddy kink, p in v, p in a, condoms, creampie 

A/N: I’m going to hell, please come keep me company. 

Stella had gotten back from college earlier that afternoon, usual bag of laundry in tow, but she had some extra baggage this time - the boyfriend. Cordell has heard whispers of ‘the boyfriend’ from August, who spoke to his sister a little more regularly than he did, not surprisingly. No eighteen year-old fresh out of their parents’ house wants to be texting their father 24/7, but he would have appreciated some kind of heads up that they were expecting company for the weekend. 

Cordell’s sitting in the den, bourbon in hand, listening to the crickets outside chattering away, but they aren’t quite loud enough to drown out the soft giggles and whispers that are leaking from Stella’s room right now. He feels his hand clench around his glass almost like it’s a phantom limb, everything feels numb except for his ears, burning with the strain of trying to listen to what Stella and Trevor might be saying. He’s confident that whatever it is they are talking about, he doesn’t actually want to overhear the conversation. 

Draining the remainder of his drink, Cordell makes his way to the counter to pour a refill. 

He wasn’t going to bed until he knew for a fact that everyone else had gone to sleep, and from the sounds of it, Trevor and Stella weren’t exactly close to settling in. There’s a short burst of laughter and a ‘shh’, and Cordell looks up at his daughter’s closed bedroom door, moodily. 

His mind flashes back to his baby girl sneaking into the kitchen an hour ago, small pyjama shorts riding up far too high, clearly rooting through the fridge for some beers to sneak back to her room. She’d jumped when Cordell cleared his throat behind her, sitting forwards from his spot on the couch, so the light of the refrigerator caught on his stern face. 

“Whatcha doin’ there, Stella Blue?” 

“Hi, Dad,” she squeaks, tucking her hands behind her in the fridge. “Just, um,” she scrambles for something out of sight, “grabbing this.” Stella pulls a soda from behind her back. 

“Really?” Cordell smirks, not angry, he’d been expecting something like this - that’s why he was up and sitting on the couch, waiting. “Caffeine? At this hour?” Even August, teenage boy obsessed with the internet that he is, had turned out his lights and gone to bed a little while ago. 

“I - uh…” Stella grimaces. 

“Why don’t you put that back, Stels?” He feels his lips tighten and brows furrow in his best attempt at ‘stern dad’ without looking angry. For a moment, Stella looks like she’s going to argue but then she thinks better of it, puts away the soda, and slinks back to her room, shutting the door softly behind her. 

Another giggle breaks him from his reverie and his hand closes into a fist against the cold granite counter, fighting the urge to knock and tell them to go to bed. He downs the new measure of bourbon he’s just poured out, desperately wishing he could erase some of the things he’s heard tonight. But the alcohol and the burning in his throat do nothing to block out the soft groan that slips from beneath his daughter’s door. 

It was so quiet, he isn’t positive he’d heard it. And his Ranger brain kicks in, trying to find any possible explanation for what the noise could have been; the wind outside, an animal in the ranch paddock… the creak of a bed spring. That is definitely what the new sound he’s just heard is – a muffled squeak as bodies shift on a too old mattress and less than well-oiled box spring. It’s quickly followed by another quiet groan, and Cordell grits his teeth and takes a long swig of bourbon, foregoing the formality of pouring it into the glass first. 

The bottle is halfway to his lips again when he hears a small, high-pitched whine – Stella’s – but something seems … off. Cordell has known his baby girl for eighteen years. He knows what she sounds like when she’s happy, when she’s tired, when she’s sad, when she’s hurt. There’s another small whimper and Cordell strains to hear better. He needs to be sure. The third time he hears it he’s certain. That’s not a happy sound coming from his daughter’s bedroom, it’s one of discomfort, one of pain. Cordell bursts through the door in a fury, already rolling up his sleeves in preparation for tearing this Trevor kid in two for hurting his baby girl. 

“Aah, Dad!” Stella screams, pulling her pyjama top back down to cover her exposed breasts and yanking Trevor’s hand out of her shorts. Cordell stops dead, unprepared for the shock that it is seeing Stella splayed out on her bed, chest bare and trembling, and her boyfriend’s fingers between her legs. In his burning rage he also feels a flare of desire distracting enough to delay him wringing Trevor’s neck. 

Trevor is very carefully trying to shift away from Stella in the bed, like Cordell is less likely to beat him up if he increases the distance between himself and his daughter, and the movement draws Cordell’s attention back to the boy – the very naked boy – in his daughter’s bed.  

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Cordell hisses, finding the presence of mind to shut the door behind him so August doesn’t walk by and see what’s happening inside. “You think you can come into my house, force yourself on my daughter? Boy, I learned how to castrate bulls when I was ten. What do you think I’m about to do with you, huh?” Trevor is frozen in terror, boner now completely limp, his cock retreating like a turtle into its shell. 

“Dad, no!” Stella exclaims, pulling a blanket over Trevor to cover his modesty. 

“Stella, don’t worry baby, I’m not gonna let this piece of scum touch you ever again,” Cordell promises, storming towards the pair on the bed. 

“No, Daddy,” she tries again, standing up to put herself between Cordell and Trevor. “Stop. He wasn’t forcing me! I wanted it.” Cordell stops short, looking down at Stella, who has her hands pressing against his chest in an effort to calm him. “I –” Stella swallows nervously, looking him in the eye. “I’m sorry, Daddy, but I wanted this. That’s why I asked him to come stay this weekend, we wanted to, y’know…” she can’t get the words out. “Don’t hurt him, he wasn’t forcing me.” 

“But,” Cordell’s mind is still reeling from the fact that Stella is standing here in front of him telling him she planned to lose her virginity this weekend, “Stels, I heard you. You sounded like he was hurting you.”

“I would never hurt her,” Trevor shoots up in the bed, angrily, but cows under Cordell’s glare, “um, sir,” he finishes lamely. 

“Stella,” Cordell sits her down on the end of her bed and drops to one knee in front of her. He brushes her long red hair off her face, cupping her cheek gently, and focusing on her soft blue eyes, shimmering with nerves. “I need you to be one hundred percent honest with me. Was he hurting you?” 

Stella shakes her head immediately but takes a moment to find her words, Cordell can tell she’s holding something back. “No,” she finally starts, “not, um, not on purpose.” 

“What?” Trevor and Cordell speak simultaneously and equally confused. 

“It.. he, um, he didn’t hurt me Dad,” Stella is stronger in her conviction now, “it just,” she grimaces, stalling. Cordell finally understands. 

“He wasn’t very good, was he?” Cordell grimaces in sympathy, and a little amusement at Trevor’s expense. Stella shakes her head ever so slightly, and Cordell laughs. Trevor is sitting in an embarrassed silence behind them, clutching the blanket in his lap. Cordell stands, brushing a hand down the back of Stella’s head as he rounds on the boy. “You ever touched a girl before, Trevor?”

“Yes,” he answers indignantly. 

“You ever made a girl cum before?” Cordell is a little taken aback by his own bluntness, but he supposes the seven or eight shots of liquor he’s had over the past hour must be fogging his brain a little. 

“Yes,” Trevor answers again, but his doubt is evident. 

“You don’t sound too sure about that, son,” Cordell pokes, standing over him now, arms crossing over his chest. Trevor tries to stutter out an answer but he doesn’t manage any actual words. “From where I was standing, it sounds like you could use a few lessons,” Cordell smirks knowingly. 

“Dad, leave him alone,” Stella objects, climbing back up the bed to Trevor’s side. 

“What?” he feigns innocence, smiling. “I’m just looking out for my baby girl. Can’t have you getting hurt, even by accident.” 

“Dad,” she whines again, burying her head in Trevor’s shoulder. 

“Plus,” Cordell kneels again, putting himself back on their level, “what kind of daddy would I be if I didn’t make sure you were being taken good care of?” Both teens are clearly not sure what they’re supposed to say to that. Cordell takes advantage of their silence and sits on the edge of the bed, and Trevor recoils slightly into Stella’s arms, which are wrapped around his waist. “So,” Cordell brings his hand up to Trevor’s face and brushes a curl behind his ear, keeping eye contact with the boy as he speaks, “he a good kisser, Stels? Or is he useless at that too?”

“Yeah – no – he’s… he’s a good kisser, Daddy,” Stella blushes, her answers given in an almost trance-like state. 

“Well, let’s find out,” and he leans forward to kiss the younger boy, hand still in his curly brown hair. 

Their lips meet hesitantly, like Cordell is waiting for Trevor to pull away, and Trevor is waiting for Cordell to tell him this whole thing is a joke, but now they are kissing softly – like you would at the end of a first date, when you still need to find out what they like. Stella’s cheeks burn as she watches her father kiss her boyfriend gently, surprised by the surge of arousal she feels pulsing through her at the sight. She knows what Trevor’s lips feel like against hers, soft and wet and insistent, and she wonders if they feel the same to her daddy. They break apart with sharp gasps, and Cordell’s eyes flick to hers, glinting in the low light. 

“Well, at least I know he’s been showing you a good time so far, baby girl,” he smirks at her, and Stella nods gingerly. “C’mere, sweetie,” Cordell motions her forwards, and she goes willingly, not knowing what he was planning to do but wanting desperately to find out. “Kiss her,” he breathes at Trevor, and the boy listens, leaning forwards and drawing Stella into him. 

Trevor’s kiss overwhelms her, and Stella melts against his bare chest. His kiss is familiar and warm, but the hand against her back is new. It’s larger, rougher, and it curls into her skin more possessively than Trevor’s fingers ever had. Stella moans into Trevor’s lips, letting his tongue wrap around hers, and her daddy’s fingers twist into the hair on the back of her head. 

“There you go, sweetheart,” he whispers against her ear, and Stella whimpers, this time very clearly from pleasure and not discomfort. The hand against her back pushes down, and Stella follows, straddling Trevor and laying down over him, tangling their hands together on the pillow by his head. As they continue to kiss and grind, she feels Trevor’s erection through the thin cotton of her shorts. Pleased that she can feel his reaction to her, she rubs over him eagerly – and her daddy must have noticed, because his hand drags down her back and lands on her hip, encouraging her grinding. 

Trevor moans and ruts up between her legs, and the pressure there against her core feels amazing. “Shit,” Trevor groans into her lips. 

“She gettin’ wet yet?” Stella whines in embarrassment and arousal at her daddy’s words. 

“Yeah,” Trevor pants from beneath her, “can feel it, even through her shorts.” Stella hides her face in the crook of his shoulder, but can’t stop herself rubbing against the hard member between her thighs. 

“Fuck,” Cordell is smirking, Stella can hear it in his voice. “You must be soaking, baby girl.”

“Mmhmm,” Stella’s voice is muffled in the pillow, but  she doesn’t want to pick up her head and reveal just how much her daddy’s words are turning her on. 

“Bet you taste so fuckin’ sweet, baby,” Cordell’s fingers ghost over her bottom, drawing dangerously close to the wet patch that is clearly visible on her little shorts. “You wanna taste her, son? Get your first good lick of pussy?” Trevor’s groan answers him. “Roll over, Stels, on your back, honey.” Stella lets her father’s hands push her off of Trevor and onto the bed.

“Get those clothes off her,” Cordell commands Trevor, and he eagerly complies, reaching out to pull Stella’s shorts down her slim, pale legs, stretched out beneath him, cradled in the sheets. She pulls her own top over her head, small perky breasts slipping free, and Cordell can’t take his eyes off them. Fuck, his baby girl has grown up so fuckin’ pretty. “Spread your legs for us, baby.” He puts his hand on one of her thighs and encourages them to part, revealing her glistening core. “Now, hands and knees, boy, c’mon,” he spins his finger in the air, indicating Trevor needs to turn himself around and get between Stella’s legs. 

The boy climbs to the space where Cordell wants him and settles on his hands and knees, staring at the spot between Stella’s thighs where he clearly wants to be, but keeping still, because he hasn’t been told to do anything else yet. Cordell hops off the bed and quickly unbuttons his shirt, discarding it on the floor, where it’s joined shortly by his belt and pants. He crawls back onto the bed behind Trevor, and smooths a large, calloused hand up his thigh and over his ass. 

“You strike me as more of a ‘hands on learner’, buddy. That true?” 

“Yes, Sir,” Trevor nods, hoping that’s the answer Cordell was looking for. 

“Good. Then I’m gonna show you everything you’ve gotta do to make my little girl cum for you. You want that?” 

“Yes,” the boy answers eagerly. 

“You’ve just gotta follow my lead, do everything I do, okay?” 

“Mm-hmm.” Another nod, and then a shocked gasp, as Cordell leans down and runs his tongue up the seam of Trevor’s ass, right over his hole. He does it again, the same simple motion, one lick bottom to top, and Trevor groans, shuddering beneath him. 

“I thought I told you to do everything I do?” Cordell huffs when he draws back and sees Trevor’s head hanging limply between his shoulders. “Don’t leave my baby waiting.” He doesn’t move back to his task until he sees Trevor dip his head and drag his tongue over Stella’s entrance, and up to the small bundle of nerves at its peak. Stella almost squeals, hands rushing to clutch in the boy’s curls and make him stay there between her legs. He licks against her again and she whines, high and desperate. 

“Daddy…” she whimpers, tossing her head back. 

“You’re doing so good, baby girl.” Cordell brushes the hair out of her eyes, which are currently squeezed closed in pleasure. “Look so pretty… all spread out for us – doesn’t she?” 

“Mmm,” Trevor hums against Stella, his tongue still drawing its lines up and down her core. Cordell grins behind him, happy he’s not taking his mind off the task at hand. Stella’s breathing is sharp and quick, still not familiar with the sensation of having a tongue playing with her pussy, and he’s about to teach Trevor some more tricks to make her squirm. 

Cordell draws his tongue flat along Trevor’s hole, laving at the expanse of skin beneath it as well. The chain reaction of moans from Trevor and then Stella tells him that Trevor has copied his movement over Stella’s entrance. He quickly changes tact and traces the tip of his tongue in small circles right over Trevor’s hole, making it flutter and twitch, then soothing it with longer licks. “You feel what I’m doing to you?” Cordell hums into Trevor’s skin, and the boy moans in affirmation. “Do that right over her clit, nice and light— there ya go,” Stella keens across her daddy’s instructions, making him smile. “Now go ahead and give it a nice hard suck, and keep your tongue moving, just like that, yeah,” Cordell strokes his hand over Trevor’s back as he continues to build Stella closer and closer to her orgasm. 

Stella’s hands are gripping the quilt beneath her like she’s about to fall off a cliff and that’s the only thing that’s keeping her grounded. Her daddy moves up to her side, grabbing her hand and winding their fingers together, so she can hang on to him instead. She turns and buries her face in Cordell’s side, while still pushing her hips harder into her boyfriend’s mouth, whimpering in pleasure. Cordell draws soothing circles over the back of her hand as she clutches him even tighter. 

“You need to cum, baby girl?” He keeps his voice soothing, and steady. Stella nods into his side. “Alright, sweetheart.” He brushes the hair back from her face, so he can watch her expression. “Okay son, want you to take your finger and push the tip inside her, just a little bit.” Trevor doesn’t make an audible response, but Cordell can tell when he does it because Stella’s breath hitches, pushing her chest into his leg. “Alright, now work it deeper, go real slow for me.” He sees Trevor’s arm start to push in and out of his little girl. “There’s a spot you want to find, if you move your finger along the top…” and after a moment Stella moans, deep and full. “Yeah, feels good doesn’t it, baby girl?” Stella whines and answers by bucking her hips down into Trevor’s finger. “Okay keep rubbing against it like that, and get your mouth back on her —” another moan from Stella “— now a little faster —”

“Oh my god,” Stella is close to sobbing with the pleasure, now. “Daddy, Daddy, please.” Cordell can’t help the smirk that splits his face when he hears Stella begging him, not Trevor, to make her cum. 

“Go ahead and cum Stels,” he squeezes her hand. “Be my good girl, cum for Daddy now, c’mon.” 

“Daddy!” She squeals as her body convulses, then stiffens, back arching off the bed in a graceful curve that pushes the pale flesh of her breasts right towards Cordell’s face, and he can’t help but lean down and kiss one nipple, gently. 

“Good girl, Stels,” he strokes his big hand down her belly, which is still twitching with the aftershocks of her orgasm. “Did so, so good for me, baby girl.” When Stella can finally peel her eyes open, and they find her daddy’s face above her, her smile is blinding, if a little dazed. 

“Fuck, that was hot, baby,” Trevor groans, reaching down to stroke himself. 

“Now, please, tell me you two have protection around here somewhere.” Cordell goes to the bedside drawer where Stella’s pointing, telling himself that it’s a good thing his baby girl was keeping condoms on hand. He finds the packet in the drawer, grabbing two, and luckily finds a small bottle of lube, too, which he brings back to the bed with him. He stalwartly does not think about the hint of bright pink he uncovered in his searching that was most definitely a dildo, lodged beside an open packet of birth control pills. 

“You ready to start the real work, son?” 

“Yes, Sir,” the boy groans, shuffling his knees closer to Stella, still between her legs. 

“Woah there partner, not so fast,” Cordell grabs his shoulder and pushes him back down to his hands and knees, ass in the air. “Gotta get you both ready first. You’re gonna follow my lead again, yeah?” Trevor hums an affirmative response. 

Cordell grabs the lube and gets some on his fingers, before tossing the bottle back to the covers. He brings one wet finger to the entrance winking up at him, and traces his fingertip up and down the seam, spreading the lube around before he pushes lightly against the opening, testing its give. It takes a moment for Trevor to relax, but Cordell gets the tip of his finger in eventually. “You gotta relax, boy, let me in. Focus on your girl there, you’re here to make her feel good, yeah?” He sees his curls bounce up and down as Trevor nods and brings his hand back to Stella’s pussy, drawing his finger through her slick before he pushes his middle finger in. 

Cordell continues to pump his first finger in and out of Trevor’s ass, feeling the boy loosening around him, until he’s ready for another finger. He pulls out and adds more lube, before bringing the digits back and pushing two slowly but firmly back in. “Start to stretch her out now, add another finger in.” Stella whimpers when Trevor draws out and re-enters her with two fingers this time. 

“Feel good darlin’?” Stella nods, locking eyes with her daddy. “I bet she’s nice and tight, ain’t she, son?”

“Yes, Sir,” Trevor pants, forehead resting against his left forearm. He seems to really be enjoying Cordell’s fingers in his ass. “She’s so fuckin’ tight. F-feels good.” 

“Try to fit another finger in there, stretch that pussy out real good f’me.” Cordell punctuates his statement by adding more lube and a third finger into Trevor’s opening, and the boy can’t contain his groan of pleasure at the thicker intrusion. 

“Fuck,” he moans, pushing a three fingers into Stella, who is dripping enough to make a spot on the sheets beneath her. She lets out an answering moan and bucks her hips up into Trevor’s hand. 

“Oh, looks like someone’s getting a little greedy, huh baby?” Cordell smirks down at his daughter, writhing on the bed, hair splayed out around her like a wreath of flames. She whines at him in response, pushing down into the fingers inside her again. “You think you’re ready for a cock, baby girl? Want your boyfriend to fill up that slutty little hole you got there?”

“Yes, Daddy, please,” she mewls, thrusting her hips again. 

“What about you, huh? Think you’re ready f’my cock?” Cordell chooses his moment well, and intentionally strokes over Trevor’s prostate when he asks the question, prompting an answering ‘fuck yes’ out of the boy. “Good answer.” 

Cordell opens one condom packet and rolls the thin barrier over Trevor’s dick for him, running the extra lube from his hand over the covered member once he’s down, then quickly rips into the second packet and rolls it on himself, before grabbing for more lube and drizzling it over himself and the tight little hole he’s about to fuck himself into. 

Trevor shifts up the bed so he’s pressed against Stella and he can run the tip of his cock through her slick folds. She pushes back against him lightly, but waits for her dad’s say so, still. Cordell ruts himself along the crack of Trevor’s ass, teasing. When the tip of his cock catches against the boy’s rim, he lets out a hiss. 

“Okay, you ready Stels?” She nods up at him. “Alright, if you need to stop you can just say, baby.” She nods again. Cordell gives Trevor a swat on the ass to indicate he should move. The muscles in his back clench as he pushes the head of his cock inside of the wet heat he’s surely been dying to get to all night. Stella’s face scrunches up as he drives himself steadily deeper inside of her, until he’s pushed in as far as he can go. Both teens let out choked moans at the feeling of finally being this wrapped up in one another. 

“Give ‘er a minute to get used to the feel of you, stay real still,” Cordell presses the head of his cock against Trevor and thrusts in shallowly, easing himself along with soft grunts, listening for any sounds of discomfort, but all he hears from the boy beneath him are small groans of pleasure. Once he’s inside, he smooths his hand up and down Trevor’s back giving him a moment to adjust as well. 

His first thrust in is shallow, but it drags the head of his cock right over Trevor’s prostate and the jolt of pleasure it sends up his body grinds him forward into Stella, drawing a moan from her. She bucks up into Trevor, forcing him deeper inside of her and simultaneously pushing him back onto her daddy’s cock. 

“That’s it, baby girl,” Cordell groans, thrusting harder into the tight heat wrapped around him, “show us how much you want it. Show us how greedy that little pussy is, sweetheart.” 

“Fuck!” Stella pants, arching into Trevor’s hips and grinding her clit against him. 

“Shit, you look so good like that darlin’. Looks so good with a cock inside her, doesn’t she?” 

“Fuck yeah. Feel so good, baby, fuck,” Trevor isn’t able to move much, being pinned between Cordell and Stella, both fucking themselves harder and harder into him, but he thrusts back against Stella with push of her daddy’s dick inside of him. Cordell’s impressed the kid’s lasted this long without busting his nut yet, considering the amount of stimulation he’s currently being subjected to, and Stella looks like she’s about to tip over the edge again along with him. He fucks into them even harder, pace quickening with each piston of his hips, and he hears Stella’s whimpers climb higher and higher as Trevor is pushed into her faster with each thrust. 

“You wanna cum again, sweetheart? Gonna cum all over that cock inside you like a good little slut? Yeah? You gonna be Daddy’s good little girl?” Cordell’s taunts push Trevor over his edge and he stutters in his pace, his ass clenching around the cock still fucking him as he cums inside Stella with a broken groan. Irritated, and on the cusp of his own orgasm, he pulls out of Trevor and throws him off of his daughter. Stella whines at the loss, and he can see her pussy clenching around the emptiness. “S’okay, baby girl, Daddy’s gotcha.” He pulls his condom off quickly and ruts his cock through Stella’s folds to ease his way when he pushes inside her. She’s so tight and warm and wet, Cordell knows he won’t last long himself, but he can wait until he’s taken care of his little girl, first. 

“Oh god, Daddy, please,” Stella moans, pressing her hips back into the cock inside her, clearly relieved to be filled up again. 

“Yeah, that’s it, honey, you fuck yourself real good on my cock. Want you to cum so hard, okay baby? Be Daddy’s perfect little slut, yeah?” Cordell lifts Stella’s ankles over his shoulders and begins a punishing pace, raking over the sweet spot inside her faster and faster on every thrust. Stella’s breath is coming in gasps so short he’s not sure she can even breathe. “C’mon baby girl, cum for your Daddy. Want you to cum for me before I fill you up. Gotta take care of you first darlin’, so c’mon, cum for me.” 

Stella turns her head into her pillow and screams her release, her whole body shaking as she cums, her walls clenching hard around the cock inside her, giving Cordell exactly what he needed to fall over the edge. He seizes up bent over Stella, her legs dropping to his sides and her arms curling around him, like he was an anchor keeping her from drifting away into nothing. A small kiss placed on her forehead, and a whisper of ‘good girl, baby’, and Cordell pulls himself out slowly, groaning at the sight of his cock laced with the white of their climaxes. He flops to the side of the bed and happily makes room for Stella when she curls into his side, drawing her fingers through the hair on his chest, seemingly lost in thought. 

“What’s on your mind, Butterbean?” Cordell asks, worriedly, brushing a stray lock of hair from her forehead.  

“Just thinkin’,” she smiles serenely. 

“About…?” 

“About how I’m never bringing a boyfriend home to meet you again.”

Tags: @vulgar-library​ @tintentrinkerin​ @negans-lucille-tblr​ @fandomfic-galore​ @petitgateau911​ @whoreforackles​ @schaefchenherde​ @kickingitwithkirk​ @little-diable​ @laxe-chester67​ @kassyscarlett​ @sonofslaanesh69​ @walkersbabygirl​ @austin-winchester67​ 

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Hi! So it's getting cold and dark outside that you just want to grab a blanket and get comfy. Do you have any recs for hurt/comfort and/or pinning fics like "With delayed expression" by Idday, "lodestone" by llassah or "Yes is a World" by jezziejay? Thank you so much in advance! :)

Texas has completely shut down because of the cold. So I’m all for blankets and fanfic.

lodestone by llassah

(1/1 I 5,491 I Teen I Sterek)

“We could…we could be something, couldn’t we?” Stiles murmurs, eyes slipping shut. Derek looks at the IV line in his arm, the bandages covering his chest, his leg. His hand, pale against the hospital sheets, palm up. Derek waits until he’s sure Stiles is asleep before he responds.

It takes Stiles eight years to ask the question again. It's okay. Derek can wait.

Yes is a World by jezziejay

(1/1 I 10,207 I Mature I Sterek)

When the nemeton casts a protection spell over Beacon Hills, Stiles can finally go to college. Derek thinks this might be a good thing.

In which Stiles falls in love and Derek learns a lot.

With Delayed Expression by Idday

(1/1 I 10,397 I Mature I Sterek)

"I have… well… she said that she thinks that I maybe have… PTSD?”

The line goes so dead that Derek almost thinks Stiles hung up on him. He waits eight very quiet seconds, and says softly, “Stiles?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Stiles says, breath whooshing back over the phone line.

“I have PTSD,” Derek says more firmly. It’s the first time he’s said it out loud, not as a question. It hasn’t really seemed real, until now. He’d spent the whole of his last session arguing that Tamara was wrong about him, and saying it out loud is like admitting it’s true. “Post-traumatic stress dis—”

“I know what it means,” Stiles interrupts, “I just didn’t think I’d heard right. Oh my God.”

***

Howling Inside by wingswinger

(2/? I 3,220 I Explicit I Sterek)

Stiles has panic attacks, Scott attempted suicide after a breakup, Lydia thinks she has visions, Isaac has PTSD and Jackson is just simply in love with himself. All these kids need some healing time at the Eichen House -hopefully they'll get better with the help of Dr. Chris Argent and Dr. Peter Hale. The latter though might have other things in mind...OrThe AU where everyone is in a mental institute while were-creatures DO exist! Stiles finds himself dropped face-first into a strange murder case where both the victim and the killer are inside Eichen House, and the only recent change in there was the new security guard. But can a guy that beautiful be actually a murderer?

(Don't forget to) Breathe. by Pixilated

(3/? I 3,272 I Mature I Sterek)

Stiles is unaware he is Derek's mate and leaves for college after one night with the man who has held his heart for years.

Or

In which both Stiles and Derek are idiots and could have avoided a whole lot of manpain and emotional constipation by just talking to each other.

enchanted to meet you. by dylaesthetics

(1/1 I 10,525 I Teen I Stydia)

“You’re unbelievable,” Stiles scoffed. “Pretend I never said anything to you back there, please.”

Lydia pulled a face, “Even that I’m hot?”

“Stop talking.”

“Am I your type?”

“Lydia, stop.”

“It’s a simple yes or no question.”

“If annoying is my type, you’re definitely it.” _ OR as lydia worries about her future, stiles is her shoulder of support

(not so) Pure Imagination by theroguesgambit

(11/11 i 33,185 I Explicit I Sterek)

"There is a world where whenever someone fantasizes about you, you can physically feel it, but you have no idea who is thinking it about you."

Stiles knows it's wrong, but he's been Fantasizing about Derek and he can't bring himself to stop. Derek doesn't know who's taken an interest in him, but he's enjoying it way more than he probably should.

Now as Ever (All That Is and Has Been) by venis_envy

(16/16 I 52,270 I Explicit I Sterek)

Stiles can't remember what happened to rearrange the time-space continuum, or how he ended up being pulled into the past. All he knows is that he's there now, in 2003 Beacon Hills, with a teenage werewolf and a possibly-crazy veterinarian as his only allies.

Strut on a Line, its Discord and Rhyme by xiaq

(21/21 I 61,811 I Teen I Sterek)

“Carry me,” Stiles says.

“No.”

“But I’m injured.”

“You have a rash,” Derek says. “On your arm. Your feet work just fine.”

“Please?”

“No. You weigh almost as much as I do. And you ate a pound of chicken at lunch.”

"Well, yeah, but I pooped like an hour ago, so.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Don’t play, you love me.”

I do, Derek thinks, relatively horrified. I really do.

When sparks fly by LunaCanisLupus_22

(4/4 I 87,515 I Explicit I Sterek)

“Derek,” Stiles thunders. “Were you ever going to tell me your house is trying to hook us up?”

Derek's head snaps up, eyes wide and scenting the evident crackle of magic in the air.

Or the one where spark!Stiles moves into an enchanted apartment block owned by a grumpy alpha and is completely oblivious to the building's efforts to matchmake them.

Shook Me Cold by 1lostone

(27/27 I 90,620 I Explicit I Sterek)

After a strange electromagnetic event causes Derek and Stiles' plane to crash on Great Bear Island, the two are separated from one another. Hurt, terrified, and unsure if the other is alive, they nevertheless refuse to give up. With everything stacked against them, can they persevere? Or will they fade into The Long Dark...

Manipulated by DearDaisy (Sunsetdaydreams)

(30/30 I 221,251 I Mature I Sterek)

Nine years ago, Scott kicked Stiles out of the pack. Stiles left and never returned. But now his dad has been hurt, so Stiles returns to take care of him. No one knows the truth of what happened back then, not even Scott or Stiles. But that's about to change.

[vivitalks]

i actually think the "taking people's pain" thing in teen wolf is a really interesting trope with really interesting potential ramifications. the show doesn't really touch on it but pain isn't just this unfortunate side effect of injury - it serves a purpose. the whole point of experiencing pain is that our body is sending a message to our brain going "hey, SOMETHING'S WRONG!!!" and as long as we're in pain, we know something is wrong, and our body fights to fix it, cope with it, heal from it. in teen wolf, we see the werewolves taking pain from their wounded friends/allies, and it's obviously a gesture of empathy, to reduce suffering, which i get. but it also feels like doing that would actually be counterintuitive, because if your body isn't feeling pain, then it doesn't know something is wrong, and if it doesn't know something's wrong then it doesn't know it needs to heal. taking pain in the teen wolf universe kind of seems like more of an opioid than an NSAID, to speak in terms of painkillers - it doesn't actually solve any problems in the long-term, it just decreases the amount of pain a person is experiencing as a consequence of the problems (i.e. injuries). and that seems like something that could actually do more harm than good.

think about the dying deputy in letharia vulpina in season 3b, or gabe in the show's finale in 6b. in both cases someone (scott or theo) takes the person's pain, and we see them go from obviously suffering to being at peace, no longer hurting. and then they die. AND THEN THEY DIE! now i understand that, because it's a tv show, they were gonna die anyway, and i know tv shows don't have to follow real-world logic, i get that. but stay with me for a minute here and just think about this, right, because those characters only survived their injuries for as long as they were in pain. as soon as it stopped hurting, they stopped living. the pain was, obviously, Fucking Painful, but it also kept them alive. and i have to wonder, watching that, if anyone else is thinking about the consequences of eliminating people's pain. how will they know to heal if nothing hurts?

when you get your wisdom teeth out, they numb your mouth, and it's still numb when you come out of it. if you bite your lip, you don't feel it. it doesn't hurt. but that doesn't mean it didn't happen. you could still suffer in the long run as a result of that injury. infections, for example, are a very real danger. (not in teen wolf the tv show obviously because again: tv logic, but if you're, say, writing fic, you might want to think about these things.) and if you keep numbing the injury, your body never knows to heal it. i think about cora in 3a, when she's dying from whatever jennifer did to her. again, i realize she was Dying, As A Plot Point, not just like, experiencing a normal injury, but derek takes her pain over and over and over again. he doesn't give her the chance to stop and feel it. what if it had been a normal injury after all, and preventing her from feeling the pain had actually been delaying her ability to heal from it? the injuries people sustain on this show are like a thousand times worse than biting your lip!! scott and the rest of the werewolves etc are wonderful empathetic people who don't want people to be in pain, and i admire that. but i also wish the show as a whole recognized that there is more to pain than just Making You Human. it also keeps you alive. keeps you fighting.

it actually reminds me of that whole thing stiles talks about at the beginning of 2x11, about how when you're drowning you hold your breath until the last possible minute (voluntary apnea) to give yourself longer to live, even though it's agonizing. and when you do finally breathe in, he calls it peaceful. but that's also the moment you die. as soon as you choose to release the pressure - as soon as you can't take the pain anymore - you go from "painfully surviving" to "peacefully drowning." and morrell asks him if maybe it's worth it to hold your breath a little longer - feel a little more pain - to give yourself more time to be rescued, to survive.

the sooner you breathe in, the sooner you're beyond saving. and the same rules apply with the supernatural pain relief. the less time you have to actually feel the pain, the less time you have to heal from what's causing it. that doesn't seem like such a good thing in the long run, to me. morrell says it best: if it's about survival, isn't a little agony worth it?

[hopeymchope]

Wonder Egg Priority finale thoughts

My Tumblr has a lot of anti-bully content, so it was probably no surprise when I began to watch and enjoy Wonder Egg Project this past spring. The series famously hit production delays that forced them to put out a mid-series recap episode, and that decision in turn forced them to push the final episode until late June. But now that the series (or at least season 1) is out there and complete, I thought I’d talk about how it all shook out in the end as well as the questions it left me sitting with.

For the uninitiated, here’s a bit of the context: Wonder Egg Project deals with four middle-school teen girls who’ve undergone hardships either at home or at school or both. They all lose someone they care about to tragic suicides, and then they discover the titular wonder eggs. They get these eggs from a vending machine and then, when they fall asleep, they enter a dreamworld where these eggs hatch to reveal a young person who recently committed suicide. For that night, it is the duty of the girl who got that egg to fight and defend that suicide victim from monstrous enemies that represent their abusers and oppressors. The girls are told that if they protect enough of these victims over many nights, they will be able to resurrect the specific person they lost to suicide. But of course, if you get injured or killed in the dreamworld, it affects your body in reality as well. 

The squad: Ai, Neiru, Rika, and Momoe.

Obviously, bullying is among the topics most frequently explored here, but we also deal with so many other terrible things that people might experience during childhood and adolescence. Physical, verbal, and sexual abuse are all on the table. Coming to terms with one’s gender identity is raised. It’s a show that manages to tackle a lot of heavy subjects through the lens of what’s essentially magical girl combat. I mean, there are no outfit transformations or any of that stuff, but still.

With THAT out of the way, let me talk about how the series wrapped up.

It’s clear to the viewers that there’s a lot that doesn’t make sense during the show — it’s intentionally very trippy and ethereal at times — and there’s also a lot that raises obvious questions even if you grasp it. Where do the eggs and their connection to the recently deceased come from? How do the psychological traumas of the various egg-children manifest as monsters that can literally kill you? What’s the deal with Acca and Ura-Acca and their freaky dummy bodies? What are they getting out of this whole deal with the eggs and the girls? What do the repeated references to the “temptation of death” mean? How does access to the Egg Garden even work? Is it really possible to resurrect their dead friends? Is Mr. Sawaki a predator or a chill guy or what? Why did Neiru’s sister stab her? And so on. 

The writers could’ve opted to keep things mysterious and hazy and metaphysical for the entire run or they could’ve provided lots of explanations and tried to ground this weird story in some sort of strange logic, but I’m actually pleased that they opted to go down the middle. There are answers for many things, but not for all. And when those answers come, they typically just raise more questions as well as doubts to their validity. 

SPOILERS for the finale/”special episode” below the cut.

So, obviously the answers for Acca and Ura-Acca are centered around Frill. Frill is this interesting fusion between the artificial and the organic; her body can be injured like any regular physical body, but she’s actually an A.I. on the inside. Acca and Ura-Acca are the exact reverse of this — they’re human minds inside of completely artificial bodies. Exactly how Frill started invading girls’ minds to lure them towards suicide is kept incredibly vague, but she serves as the embodiment of the “temptation of death” that was so-often referenced in the show. Frill doesn’t really appreciate life or care about the finality of death, making her a pretty natural foe for the heroes who have spent the entire series learning to appreciate their lives and bemoaning painful losses.

Can you even believe this bitch?

Acca and Ura-Acca also have documents talking about how warriors of Eros need to battle against Thanatos, the embodiment of death, but what’s that all about? We don’t really get into it. Is Frill somehow Thanatos herself? I mean... I guess maybe you could go that route, but I sincerely don’t think that’s meant to be the case. I assume she’s just another player in the game, and she happens to have taken Thanatos’ side in things. Her artificial existence and resentment of her fathers leads her to treat death flippantly. She was programmed to be selfish sometimes, and that selfishness has ultimately manifested itself in the worst possible ways. Intriguingly, we see Acca and Ura-Acca act similarly selfish in how they drive our four heroes to risk their lives just to battle Frill. Acca in particular shows that he’ll risk anyone’s life to get to Frill, who killed both his wife and daughter. But Acca never has to risk his own life. He’s just risking other people. Both sides of the equation are treating human lives like disposable pawns in some kind of war game. 

Y’all are SUPER-SKETCH.

It’s never really clear how these eggs work. We’re told that the Accas created the eggs, and honestly, I could’ve figured as much on my own. But they don’t try to explain how the eggs can contain the souls of suicide victims or how they manifest those people into dreams, and frankly, it’s probably better not to try.

I was really shocked that the girls actually manage to resurrect their dead friends. I was 100% certain that was going to be a scam and the point was going to be about learning to move on and live for the moment and appreciate those bonds while you had them, etc. And there is some of that. Alas, the price of resurrecting those people they care about is that the people in question no longer know them or remember them. That was pretty brutal... having our heroes nearly die over and over in service of people who ultimately will no longer care about them at all. Although they did the impossible and brought someone back to life, they had to lose those people all over again. I suppose this, like much fo the finale, emphasizes that we should appreciate our relationships while they last, because you can lose them for so many reasons. Regardless, I’m not surprised that Momoe just wanted to quit and avoid getting hurt after that. It’s understandable.

There’s a lot of discussion around parallels in the last two episodes. Parallel worlds with alternate versions of the self are raised multiple times, Ai gets an awesome encounter with a parallel version of herself that really brought her emotional journey to a head, and we even have to deal with a doppleganger of Neiru at the end. This leads to the revelation that Neiru looks exactly like her formerly deceased sister... a fact that presumably was part of what drove the sister to attack Neiru in the first place. Given that we’ve already been told that they were both genetically engineered, their identical appearances don’ seem that strange. But then the finale tells us that Neiru’s one dream is “to be human,” and suddenly the characters assume Neiru was an A.I. just like Frill. That... seems like a leap to me. I mean, she was genetically engineered to lead her company and never had a family of her own; no wonder she feels inhuman! So I’m not sure if I should take this at face value.

Neiru real or fake challenge

Another thing that I don’t think we can take at face value is Mr. Sawaki’s explanation of Koito’s death. In episode 12, we meet a parallel version of Ai who actually killed herself. The big boss monster for Ai to fight while protecting Alt-Ai? It’s a dark, abusive version of Sawaki. And our Ai inexplicably assumes this monster was made from her own fears. A very bizarre conclusion to jump to when you remember that every single boss monster has been the abuser of the victim that the girls were defending in that episode. By all available evidence, the Sawaki monster should be a parallel-world Sawaki who is very much exactly the scumbag he appears to be! Notice how Alt-Ai never says a damn word about the Sawaki Monster - never asks who he is or why he’s like this, etc? She’s not even surprised. That just lends further credence to my belief. FOLLOW THE EVIDENCE.

So in the finale, when our version of Mr. Sawaki claims (via a VERY awkwardly inserted voiceover) that Koito’s death was an accident after she tried to ruin his reputation because she fell in love with him, why should I believe any of it?! The previous episode introduced me to Abusive Sawaki! Sure, we don’t have any reason to assume our Sawaki is That Dick, but we JUST learned that he’s certainly capable. Furthermore, how could Koito suddenly be the ONLY accidental death among all of the available suicide victims in the dreamworld? She shouldn’t have even appeared there if it was just an accident! Although I’d like to believe that Sawaki was someone who Ai and the girls were jumping to conclusions about based on nothing... but it sure doesn’t look that way from here. And given how the show ends things, I fear we may have a hard time learning anything else about Sawaki. Ai changes schools and runs away, there is zero comment on what happened to Sawaki’s relationship with her mom... he’s just gone now.

As the final episode winds down, we see Rika and Ai fall back into bad habits, as they all treat Neiru just like they treated the girls they tried so hard to save. Rika acts disgusted by a friend and abandons her, treating Neiru the same way she treated Cheimi. When Neiru finally reaches out to Ai and calls her, Ai ignores the call and throws her phone away, thereby ignoring her friend’s needs in the same way she ignored Koito’s when she failed to record the bullying Koito was experiencing. You might even be able to connect Momoe’s choice to walk away for the sake of self-preservation to her decision to reject Haruka and walk away, honestly. And to compound the bad news that the show gives us near the end, we skip forward months to learn that Ai, Rika and Momoe have all drifted apart. Ai is in a new school, but we don’t see her with any new friends. She’s back where she started the show.

The difference, however, is that she doesn’t seem hopeless and lonely. She seems wistful, sure, but she never seems beaten down. She still treasures the friendships she built even if they wind up fading away. So there’s still a message in here about moving on, because even if you lose a person or a connection, it will forever matter.

*insert engine rev-up noises*

In the final moments, we see Ai preparing to run in the exact same pose she used back in episode 1 when she first stood up to the abusers within the dreamworld. This time, she runs to grab her chance to reunite with a dear friend. She takes charge of her own future and her own self-worth, somehow gets back into the Egg Garden (even though Rika wasn’t even allowed to enter after she rescued her specified victim, so uh... how did Ai get back in exactly... ?), and insists she’s going to use the eggs to see Neiru... even though the eggs only let you see the dead up to this point, so uh, that doesn’t really make any sense either. Consistency, motherfucker — DO YOU USE IT?

Amidst all the uncertainty that the finale left us with, at least we can see Ai find herself in a more confident place. She spends much of the series learning to stop running from her problems in the real world. Even after she gains confidence in the battles of her dreams, she struggles to face reality. It’s a huge step when she returns to school. Yet even in the very last episode, she opts to run away to a new school rather than cope with seeing Koito each day. But at last, she decides to take charge of her reality and try to reunite with her new best friend, Neiru. She’s wavered on her path, but ultimately, she’s grown. Although you could simultaneously argue that she’s failing to learn the lesson that rescuing Koito should’ve taught her...

“Ai Ohto is BACK!”

I don’t think any of us expected this finale to be a cliffhanger coming into it.  And unfortunately, we don’t know if there will ever be another season or a movie or anything. Given how people reacted to this finale with such overt hate, I really don’t expect anything more. And I think that would be a goddamn shame. Even with a finale that doesn’t quite stick the landing, I still found it fascinating and engaging. The series is more than worth the trip for the characters, for the themes and topics it explores, and even for the fluid action scenes and music. And this is a series that was made by first-time writers and a first-time director! Yet I’d easily call it one of the best animes from the past couple of years. For total newcomers, that’s a goddamn TRIUMPH.

So I hope we reunite with these girls again. I hope Ai manages to get the band back together, find out exactly what’s going on with Neiru, and face down Frill. Even if they never wind up in some ultimate battle with Thanatos, I don’t know that that’s the point. All of us are in a battle with Thanatos every single day, after all. They just need to show how they’ve all gotten stronger together and truly overcome the “Temptation of Death” by beating back Frill (and her ridiculously powerful dreamworld bug-people) as a unit. 

But maybe that’s too obvious and simplistic of a message for a show like this one. Maybe this complex ending centered on the main protagonist’s self-actualization and the value of fleeing relationships is more in keeping with the melancholy nature of the series. 

... I still really want to see the more obvious happy ending, though. I think they deserve it.