#but they did it anyway because they wanted to watch it happen

[renasomewhere]

ANALYSING THE NEW COMIC BEFORE ANYONE HAS THE CHANCE TO HAHHAHA:

It starts with mizi ontop of sua (mizi top fr) and she is calling sua adorable, crushing her with compliments. Her ten fingers her ten toes, her same breath. Memorising it all. One thing to note is that sua is wearing mizi's dress, How it was supposed to be before sua wore white

Sua looks away, And I assume she is getting flustered. She never got that many compliments from her guardian or others that sounded like them (In reference to the comic where Sua's head gets called small) She is flustered by the fact she knows its genuine. She knows that mizi means every word of her compliments. She is the only one that receives them this way.

The worst frame of the comic imo, so sad..

This shows Mizi at around 2-4 years old grappling onto her mothers unmoving, pale corpse who has been crushed by accident from somebody that I believe to be Shine.

She cries because who wouldn't in this situation. The person who provided her with life is gone. Limp in her arms like a ragdoll. If only she knew that would have happened twice.

Shine suggests that mizi comes with her, To take care of the small child and become her guardian.

Because the incident that happened to mizi when she was so young she forgot that shine isn't her mother, It is either that or It is ettiqute / the norm to call your female guardian mother as sua does the same thing in the heavenly garden comic, Both of them looking like they are the same age during this time period (credits to @sorrowcure for the translation)

ANYWAY MOVING ON!

Mizi is watching the television that shine gave her, more specifically ALIEN STAGE. THIS IS WHERE IT GETS INTERESTING.

Mizi Knew the consequences of alien stage, She knew that her or sua would have died. Her shock probably came from the heat of the moment where she was just enjoying singing with her partner until she was gone.

SHE KNEW.

I determine this as mizi going to anakt to avoid the constant attention she got from her guardian and guardians family. She wanted to be the one to crush somebody. She wanted to be in a place where she wasn't the only thing that mattered. She chose the one human she saw after her mother, She picked Sua. She became Obsessed with her, Thinking of her as high and powerful as a god. She Became the one to crush.

Repetition, Just like sua did that day with the boy.

"So adorable."

"must be nice right?"

Two sides of a coin. Jealousy and Obsession.

Sua jealous that of her perception of mizi, Her perception that she "has it easy"

Mizi's Obsession, Finding sua utterly adorable that she has to repeat herself to make her point clear.

The end.

[feelfreetopleasemexo]

Puff puff pass

Katsuki, denki, kiri, izuku

(Their first time smoking weed)

Katsuki-

It was no secret that you smoked weed most nights to help with your ADHD. You weren’t loud and obnoxious about it, it didnt engulf your personality, and it definitely didn’t affect your school or hero work. You always made sure to do it far enough away from the school so it didn’t affect anyone or taint the UA name, and you never smelled of anything when youd come back, so naturally nobody batted an eye at it. One night when you were getting ready for your nightly routine, Katsuki poked his head around from behind the kitchen cupboard and asked you something you never in a million years ever expected to come from his lips.

“Oi, extra, can I….can I come with you? Wanna see what all the fuss is about.”

Your eyes widened at the question, unsure of if he was somehow taking the piss out of you, or if he genuinely wanted to try it…

“I mean, yeah, if you want? Thought you weren’t into that kinda thing though…”

“Tsk. Dont it get twisted, im not gonna turn into some fucking pot head who can’t keep his eyes open and wastes his life getting high and eating shit food all the time, i just…you seem relaxed when you come back, i kinda wanna know what thats like…”

For the first time since youd know him, Katsuki was being somewhat soft with you…he seemed embarrassed with himself as he asked, uneasy with letting some form of vulnerability out, but you smiled and nodded your head, pulling your shoes on and doing up your hoodie.

“Yeah that’s cool man, you can try a bit just, you gotta listen alright?”

“Of course I’ll listen, im not gonna go smoking the whole thing because I think I can god dammit. Im not a fucking idiot.” He scowled at you as he walked over and started putting his shoes on, grabbing his jacket and leaning against the doorframe for you to be ready to leave. You patted your pockets, double checked you had everything, then set off together.

As you ignited the joint, he watched you inhale, hands in his pockets and leaning against the side of an overgrown tree next to you both. He watched you inhale it, hold your breath for a second then exhale, the white cloud dissipating quickly above you. He stared at the joint, nervously twitching his hands in his pockets, as he glanced up to you,

“Do you wanna try smoking it yourself or did you want me to just blow it at you?”

“I, er, I dunno. What would be best?”

“Depends how high you wanna get, could just try blowing it at you so you get a residual high if you wanted? Or if you toke it a few times youll get kinda high and see how it really feels?”

“Fuck it, I never shy away from anything, give it here.” He grabbed the joint and inhaled it, his eyes widening as the thick smoke laced his lungs, it was only a small toke but it was clearly the first time he’d ever smoked anything before. He instantly started coughing, throwing he joint back at you and hunching over, clutching his stomach. You tried to stifle your laughter, tried to rub his back and encourage him that most people cough the first time anyway, and then added that it’ll probably get him a little higher anyway.

“Oh fuck, do NOT tell anyone this happened. Fuck, I can’t fucking breathe, Jesus.”

After he calmed down, you smoked the rest of the joint, as he asked to try one more time.

“The ends called a stinging cherry cause it gets really hot when you inhale it so just…take it easy okay? It gets hot like instantly.”

He inhaled it slowly, taking a tiny drag then exhaling, taking another tiny little one before handing it back to you.

“See, told you i wasnt a pussy. So…how long does it take before you feel all high and shit?” His eyes started to gloss slightly, as he started to blink slightly heavier.

“Depends, usually takes me about 10/20 mins then I start feeling it, but youll probably start feeling light headed and relaxed pretty soon. If you start feeling sick or shaky or whatever, just let me know and I’ll take care of you. You should be fine though, this is my weak shit and you only had a tiny bit. Wanna watch a movie together in my room or something? Yano, so I can keep an eye on you?”

His face softened as he looked at you, eyes slightly dropping as a faint smile traced his lips. He nodded and turned to walk back to the dorms. On the way back he barely spoke, just continued to lazily look around at the trees that laced the courtyard, then waited for you to open the door so you both could walk in.

You got to your dorm and he fell straight onto your bed, face first, and let out an exhausted sigh, something between tiredness and appreciation.

“Fuuuuck your beds so much comfier than mine. Hmmmm.” You laughed at his high over exaggeration, rolling your eyes then gabbing a few blankets and turning your tv on. You put on a comedy film, nothing too interesting but enough for him to relax too and laugh at, as you then snuggled up next to him and started to trace circles on his back. He lifted his head, opened one eye to stare at you, let out a tiny smile then rolled over so his head was on your lap.

“Fuckin nerd.” He whispered, half asleep and completely content. You gently started playing with his hair, tracing the outline of his ear as you chuckled at the jokes in the film. He started to drift off, eyes becoming too heavy to keep open and humming slowly at how content he was at your touch. You both ended up falling asleep like his, only to wake up 4 hours later in the exact same position.

Katsukis snores woke you up, you were still pretty relaxed, and looking down at him drooling on your lap only made your smile wider. You decided to wake him up gently, cooing his name softly and rubbing his back.

“Kats, you gotta wake up man, my legs gone completely dead.” He groaned at your attempt to wake him, nuzzling his head further into the pillow that was your thighs as he scrunched his face up. You decided you weren’t going to push it, you gently moved his head and scooted down so you could get him to spoon you, if he was going to sleep in your bed you at least wanted some of his warmth. He lazily wrapped his arm around you, letting it fall heavily around your waist as he pulled you closer. His snores immediately began again, and as you closed your eyes to drift back off, you couldnt help but relish in his softness. You let out a tiny giggle at the fact that youd never be smoking alone again, not that you minded anymore. ‘What a beautiful way to fall inlove.’ You said to yourself as he pulled you in tighter.

Denki-

You both got collared at an end of year UA party when Shinso offered you both a toke on his joint. You grabbed at it first, having tried it a few times previously and inhaled it like a pro, showing off the smoke rings you could do in denkis face. He laughed, nervously grabbed it off you and took a long drag, trying desperately to act like he knew what he was doing. You and shinso could see how badly he was holding his cough back as he exhaled and started glancing at you both. You laughed and took it back off him, inhaling again and holding it in your lungs as you passed it back to shinso, and waved your hand for Denki to come close to you. You cupped your hands around your mouth and his and exhaled so he could inhale your blow back. His face flustered at the close proximity, then fluttered his eyes as he inhaled as much as he could from you. Shinso looked at you both, raised an eye at brow and rolled his eyes, walking off to finish his joint alone.

Denki laughed nervously as you smiled at him, eyes wide and smile gleaming, he felt like the coolest guy at the party.

“So, guess that means we’re dating then ey? Almost kissing infront of shinso….” He flung his arm around you and pulled you close to him, almost loosing his balance as his head felt slightly lightheaded. You laughed and pushed him off,

“Easy now stoner, just because I gave you blow back doesn’t mean im inlove with you.”

“Blow….back? If you wanted to blow me you could’ve just said.” His Pervy charm never discouraged you, if anything his blatant flirting always made your stomach flutter. You rolled your eyes and smirked at him, causing him to look around frantically as the anxiety of you sucking his dick flushed his face.

“Youd be so lucky. Anyway, wanna see if shinso will roll one for us? Kinda wanna smoke s’more by the fire.” Denkis face light up, you wanted to spend more time with him? Even after his stupid joke? Damn maybe you were inlove with him.

“Fucking yesssss! I got chu, he’ll definitely let me roll it for us.” You rolled your eyes again, laughing gently at him.

“Think we should let him roll it for now, i dont wanna be chomping down bud whilst smoking. Wouldnt be too sexy.”

“Anything you do is sexy.” He didnt mean to say it quite so loudly, and as soon as he did, his face flushed pink as he tried to overcorrect himself with rambles. You couldnt help but giggle, pulling him by the arm and link yours in his.

“Cmon dummy, let’s go get some more. Maybe then we can talk more about blowing backs out…”

He really did try to contain his excitement, he really did, but the thought you arching over infront of him as he fucked you from the back was too much…he straight up nearly came in his pants that second.

As shinso handed you both a joint, he jokingly said that you had to kiss him as payment for it. He stared down at you with his darkened eyes, smirk slapping his face and eyes dancing up and down your body. Before you couldnt even retaliate, denki jumped in and kissed him quickly on the mouth, thanking him frantically and pulling you away as you giggled at his sheer speed. You both sat down next to the fire and smoked the joint together, passing it between the two of you as you recited the funniest memes you knew to each other. Denkis laugh filled you with excitement, his sweet face buzzing as the high set in. He wasn’t overly excitable as usual, he was calmer but more smiley, if that was at all possible, as he then took your hand in his.

“You’re so fucking cool, Yano that? Like….who else loves memes, smokes like a boss and can appreciate a good set of boobs…I think you’re my soulmate for real.” You threw your head back and laughed, only furthering his growing love towards you.

“Very sweet of you denks but, I don’t think you can call me your soul mate. Not yet anyway, Weve never even kissed….what if it’s shit? What if we end up clashing teeth and laughing too much? Would be a terrible soulmate if I didn’t even know how to do that with you let alone….” You stopped yourself, your cheeks flushing at the idea of spending the night with him. This only made his false confidence grow as he pulled you closer to him and embraced you in a sweet, Smokey kiss. His lips were soft, warm and wet, leaving you almost instantly breathless as a tiny spark zapped at the corners of your mouth. You giggled at the shock,breaking the kiss, but he kept his lips close to yours as he spoke,

“God fucking damn, you definitely are my soulmate now….chat, clip this. Gonna be playing at our wedding.” Who knew that smoking weed would suddenly mean youd gained a soulmate, and a husband at that.

Kirishima-

Kiri always wanted to try smoking, he didn’t like to admit it, but he always thought that a man smoking looked cool as hell. He knew you smoked, and when he saw you in the smoking area of the club, he couldnt help but let his Dutch courage get the better of him.

“Hey cutie how’s it going? Can I ask a weird question please?” He was always so full of smiles and laughter, so when he was drunk he was even more so, almost falling into you as he spoke.

“Yeah of course man what’s up? Having fun? Can’t believe minas dancing her ass off so much, Shes gonna be dehydrated to fuck by the time we all get home.” You both laughed as he nervously glanced down at your weird smelling cigarette.

“Yeah she’ll be alright, I’ll get her some water in a minute just to make sure, Yano me, always keeping an eye on everyone. Anywho….can I maybe, eh, try some?” He pointed his hand towards your joint as you looked down at it and then back up at him.

“Errr, it’s not, um, how do I say this? It’s not a real cigarette. It’s a spicy one.”

“Oh spice? Think I can’t handle it? I love spicy stuff cmon! “He reached for your joint, clearly misunderstanding what you meant. You retracted your hand quickly from him,

“No Kiri, it’s a joint. Yano..weed.” His eyes furrowed slightly at your confession, not aggressive, just inquisitive.

“Oh….does that mean you can’t share it between people or? I don’t really know much about it so..” you giggled at him and pointed it slightly towards him, offering it to him slightly without forcing it outright infront of him.

“You can try some if you want, it just might make you feel a little more chilled out, Yano, less tipsy and more relaxed, more tired.” He looked down at it and smiled, appreciating the fact you hadn’t forced it upon him, or hid the fact it wasnt a normal cigarette.

“I got this cutie, I just wanna try a tiny bit of it anyway.” He inhaled slightly, held it then exhaled, looking as if he was a nature born smoking, “think I did it right…right? If I nearly die will you take care of me? “ His eyes beamed down at you as he handed it back, laughing slightly.

“Of course Kiri, I’ll take good care you of my new little stoner.” You laughed at him as he activated his quirk quickly,

“Boulder babe.” His wink took you by surprise, causing your laugh to catch in your throat as you tried to inhale more of your joint. Was he always this attractive or did seeing him smoke that joint stir something in you…men who smoke weed did always seem pretty cool to you after all.

Izuku-

This bundle of joy didnt mean to inhale as much as he did, he didn’t even mean to be in the way of your exhale at all infact. You were waiting outside the shop as he ran in to get you guys some snacks for the group movie night tonight, and accidently walked straight into the cloud you let go from your lungs. He immediately started coughing, waving his hand and trying to disperse it, and bent down clutching his lungs. It wasnt as if it was a small exhale either, you were trying to smoke your joint as fast as you could so you didn’t have to smoke it near him, and subject him to a secondhand high.

“Oh fuck zuku im so sorry! Stop coughing it makes it worse! Just try get away from it!” It was a stronger weed than you usually got, a new strain monoma had got in for you to try, so if izuku was breathing it in so desperately, there was no way in hell he wasn’t getting at least a little high from it. You rubbed his back as he tried to stop, his face bright red from coughing too hard, as you used your other hand to fan the smoke away.

“It’s okay it’s okay….does this mean im a stoner now? Like….do I have to say i do drugs now?! I have to tell all might. I need to ask him something.” He very quickly ran off, and before you could catch him he started shouting for all might in a panicked tone. You couldnt help but laugh slightly, then the realisation that all might would now be told about you smoking weed set in. Fuck. You suddenly became increasingly more nervous at the thought of getting kicked out of UA over a tiny little joint. You eventually caught up to izuku, tackling him to the ground as he squirmed under you.

“Dude chill! I am NOT getting kicked out because all might finds out I smoke weed sometimes. Please zuku! I can’t let this ruin my chances at my dream!” He stopped squirming and contemplated the aftermath of him telling all might, at all the complications that could come your way. Suddenly, you were both interrupted by the soft sound of all mights footsteps as he was searching for where izukus voice had come from. He smiled sweetly at the sight of you two, his eyes then widening and spinning himself around as he clocked that you were straddling young izuku. You looked down at your stance and jolted off him, walking over to all might as you tried to explain.

“It’s okay young y/n, you don’t have to explain young love to me. I was going once, I get it, just….maybe not in the middle of the path next time okay? Not a good look for up and coming pro heros.” He giggled and rubbed the back of his neck, as izuku scrambled to his feet and stood no more than two inches away from all might.

“Sir, I need to ask you something. What would happen to…Yano…if someone were subjected to weed. Would they….feel it too. Im freaking out.” Izukus stature was dead straight, his eyes wide as he spoke, your own body recoiling back into itself as he confessed your antics to the number one hero.

“They would be fine young izuku, please don’t worry, just don’t make it a regular thing okay? It’s not…good for you or your body. Okay?” He looked at both of you, slight concern in his eyes as he smiled softly at you two. You both nodded and bowed, thanking him for keeping your secret and assuring him it was a one time thing (for one of you anyway), as you then grabbed his arm and ran you both back towards the UA dorms.

Izuku panicked the whole time, frantically glancing his eyes at everyone as if they knew his dirty little secret, and were about to expose him to everyone. You laughed at his expression, rubbing your hand over his in an effort to comfort him. You leant over and whispered to him,

“Chill zuku, no one knows, and the more you freak out the less relaxed youll be. Just chill….do you wanna go lay down for a bit?” He looked over to you and shook his head yes frantically, standing up and squeezing your hand as he dragged you towards his dorm.

You sat him down in his bed and got him one of his all might blankets, telling him lay down and get comfy. You laid next to him and cuddled him into your chest, rubbing his back as you hummed some songs from your childhood to try to relax him. He eventually nodded off, far too anxious about the fact hed done drugs to even be anxious about being close to your chest. You lay your head ontop of his and smiled, relishing in the comfort of the soft, sweet cuddles. You eventually nodded off and ended up spending the night in this exact position with him. In the morning you woke up to him standing dead straight facing his door, shaking slightly. You laughed lowly as you noticed him,

“Drugs are bad. Look, we spent the night together and i didnt want my first time to be under the influence. I don’t even remember it. Im so sorry y/n, im ashamed of myself. Please forgive me.” You could hear the tears welling in his eyes as he spoke, terrified youd had sex together. You patted the bed and smiled at him,

“Zuku, we didn’t have sex, we literally just cuddled. Trust me, drugs or not, I think we’d remember loosing our virginities together. Look, we’re both still fully clothed and there’s no condom in sight, okay? Chill dude i got you, no more drugs for you.” He looked around the room, confirming what you said before letting out an exhausting sigh and sitting down next to you again on the bed.

“Thank god, I didn’t want our first time to be like that, I wanted it to be….yano…romantic and amazing and, I actually have a plan written down on how I want to go..” He reached down to grab his notebook, suddenly freezing as hed just openly admitted to you that he wanted to lose his virginity to you. His body froze, almost looking like an anime still.

“Thats very sweet of you zuku, but I think we need to go on a date first before we think about having sex Yano? Maybe try a kiss first or something?” Your laughter filled the room, as he fell back, embarrassment filling his face, as he covered the entirety of it with his hands. Not only had he done drugs, but he had a girl spend the night in his bed then confessed he wanted to have sex with her. This was a whole new level of embarrassment for him, and he swore to never go near drugs ever again.

[kandyscorner]

Do I Know You? Part 30

Synopsis: Jason’s back and you both talk somethings out.

Note: There is definitely some form of communication in this chapter. People are learning and changing but there is still miscommunication. They’re as affectionate as ever too. Enjoy!

Side Note: I wrote a little snippet from earlier in the series to celebrate chapter 30. Here's the link to Part 8.5. Thank you to all the wonderful people that read and comment and reblog. 😘😘

Masterlist

Your bed was empty when your alarm went off in the morning. Had you hallucinated Jason? You bury your face into “Jason’s” pillow and get a deep breath of him. No, he had to have been here. You had washed the sheets.

You roll back on your back and listen for the tell-tell scuffling of him in the kitchen. It was still quiet; you didn’t hear him around the apartment. Did he leave?

You pull yourself out of bed and pull-on Jasons red hoodie that he had left there (one you may or may not have been sleeping in in his absents). You trudge out into the living room and find the window open.

You go through a rollercoaster of emotions in less than a minute. A spike of fear because someone may have broken in, a spike a of anger when you spot the silhouette of a man you haven’t seen in months, and then confusion because the man wasn’t red hood or a thief. It was just Jason sitting on the fire escape.

You knock on the frame of the window and he finches, limbs moving in a rush before settling down. You climb out the window, something you suddenly realize you’ve never done. You get a whiff of what you think is cigarette smoke as you settle down next to him, thighs pressing into each other.

“Hey,” you whisper not wanting to break the mostly quiet atmosphere of the city morning. You swing your feet as you look down at the alley below you and then up at the rooftop across the street. You finally turn your head to look at Jason and find him staring at you already. Staring at you like he used to, the way that used to bother you, like he’s analyzing you.

“What?” you ask, less felling self-conscious and more wanting him to speak.

“Nothing, you’re just pretty,” he tells you still staring. You drop gaze back down to the alley with a mumbled thanks. You tug at the sleeves of his sweater to calm your flustered nerves. His hand curls into your own to stop your fidgeting.

“I shouldn’t have left the way I did.” He says after a moment of silence. You tilt your head to watch him out of the corner of your eye. He stares across the way at the roof.

 The very same roof that Red Hood used to watch you from. You shake the thought from your head; it doesn’t have anything to do with the conversation.

“Work happens, I get it,” you shrug him off mostly because you don’t want him to know how much of a wreck you had suddenly become without him. You’re sure he already knows anyway, based on the state of your apartment, and the fact that you very likely told him you liked him when you were drunk.

“It’s not that, sweetheart,” he turns where he sits to face you straighter, “you were confused with no memory, and I just left you to figure it out on your own. It wasn’t fair to you.”

There’s a vulnerability to Jason’s words, a heavy remorse in them like he’s been beating himself up for it the entire week. You try to scoot closer to him, your hand turning to hold his tightly.

“You’re right,” his brows jump at your agreement, “it wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t right and all that, but you came back. Jason, that means more to me than anything else.”

You shift your leg under you and raise up to wrap your arms around his neck and hug him. His arm curls around your back and he holds you as you press your face into his neck. Your nose wrinkles at the smell you find, something so not Jason it has you pulling back to meet his eyes.

“Do you smoke?”

“What?” he blinks up at you clearly startled by the question. Then his features shift into a sheepish look.

“I- yea, sometimes.” He mumbles. A mocked gasp escapes you.

“Jason Todd,” you whisper scold, “cigarettes kill, you know.”

He smiles at you, a near flustered thing and ducks his head under your chin, pressing his face against your chest. You hear him mumble something along the lines of “I know.” He tugs you closer and you nearly fall over into his lap. He steadies you with his hands on your back, one creeping up your spine in a way that almost makes you shiver. An annoying screeching noise filters its way out the window from your apartment and you pull from Jason. His hands press into you, willing you to stay out without saying anything.

“I have to go to work,” you mumble, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. You pause to run your fingers through his hair, the white in his roots more prominent again.

“You should grow your hair out,” you add, not intent on actually leaving for work. He finally shifts back to look at you.

“What for?” he seems confused and almost offend, “Dick had a mullet once, I’m not doing that.”

You bite your tongue to stop the near slip of ‘yeah, I looked at all his past Nightwing suits, the disco one was terrible.’ You had reminded yourself that that wasn’t information for you to share.

“I don’t mean grow it long. I mean you should stop dying it. I think this little white section would be cute,” you tell him, reaching up to twist the hairs around fingers. He frowns at your words, and a hand leaves your back to pat at the hair now sticking up.

“Didn’t realize it grew out enough for you to see it.” He murmurs as he presses the hair down. You settle back on your bum as you watch him pick at his hair.

“It’s not the first time I’ve seen it. I saw it once when we were in bed and the first time you stayed for…. dinner?” you drop your gaze at the end of the sentence a sudden confusion breaching your mind. That wasn’t right. The first time Jason stayed for dinner, you were entirely out of it from being kidnapped and killing a man and whatnot. Why did you say that? Why did you think that?

You try to swim through your early morning sense to grasp at why you thought you had seen that shock of white when you and Jason had dinner, when your JarTM suddenly rattles. You blink at the suddenness of it. You hadn’t thought about the dumb comparisons you had made between Red Hood and Jason in months. You look up at Jason to find him staring at you in a searching manner, like he’s waiting for you to connect a dot somewhere. It suddenly makes you antsy. Your alarm blares through the window again.

“I really have to go to work,” you tell Jason slowly, staring at him with wide eyes. You blink before leaning forward to press a kiss to his scarred cheek. It makes your rattling jar worse, and you have to swallow around the sudden lump in your throat.

You pull away from him without you looking and climb back in through the window. You think he may have called out to you, said something, but your head is swimming. You lock yourself in the bathroom. You strip and turn the shower to nearly scalding and scrub at your skin, perhaps a little too harsh.

Jason could not be Red Hood. It would mean that he’s lied to you for the entirety of your relationship. It would mean that he abandoned you, but not really? It would just make everything so much more complicated and confusing. Especially your feelings in regard to the separate men because you had an array of emotions when it came to Red Hood, ones you didn’t want associated with Jason. You liked Jason a lot. Enough so that in a less then sober state, you probably told him

Your hot shower wasn’t helping with your overthinking, so you turn it to ice cold and fight every nerve in your body to press yourself against the shower wall and away from the cold stream. You last less than a minute before a shiver works up your spine and you remember last night. you shut off the water and begin to towel off as you think about.

Jason had been crying before you fell asleep. You wondered if it had to do with him being hurt. You want a closer look at his chest too. You’re sure you saw bruises there and if that was the case you wanted him to tell you what happened and maybe let you rub some of that bruise cream on it for him.

You press the towel against your hair and look around the bathroom. In your panic you forgot to grab clothes. Jason had practically seen you naked before, it’ll be fine. You wrap the towel around your chest and tug at the bottom. You wish you had longer towels, like the Waynes.

The thought gives you pause. Like the Waynes? Had you used their towels? You must have. You focus on the thought, the memory. You had showered, you think. You knew it had rained. You must have stood out in the rain and showered after.

“Axe body wash?” you question under your breath at the weird connection. You’ll have to ask Jason if someone’s shower at the manner had axe products in it.

You tug at the bottom of the towel again before finally unlocking the door and stepping out.

****

Jason felt stuck and confused, which is something he hadn’t felt quite like sense his days in the league. Now that he knew you had some inclination that he was Red Hood he was watching for slip ups, signs of what you’re thinking.

This morning had been one of them, he thinks. The first time Jason Todd had stayed at your apartment for dinner, the white streak had been freshly dyed, and you were a crying mess. The first time Red Hood had stayed for dinner, a new dye box was sitting on his safe house counter waiting for use. It was when you had stared at him while he ate. You would’ve seen it then.

You didn’t say anything now, just ran away to the bathroom. He had called out to you both not wanting you to leave and to ask about it. He wouldn’t ask when you came out of the shower though. All he would do is put you on the trail to prove he was Red Hood (even though you clearly had enough evidence anyways).

So, he sat on the couch, literally twiddling his thumbs, waiting for you. He had been half tempted to ask if he could sit in the bathroom while you showered, just to be in your presence. He had meant what he said last night. He had missed you far more than he probably should have.

He missed you so much he felt it in his bones, and he couldn’t help but kick himself for leaving in the first place. It made him slopy on the mission. Roy had to pull him to cover before he got shot by someone he should have noticed. Years of training down the drain because he missed you, his little liability.

But your drunken words had rang in his ears the entire mission. I hate you. It made him sick, and it made him miss you more for the affectionate way you hugged him anyways. After the mission, Roy scolded and questioned him. Roy had! That’s how he knew he was a total mess. He talked about it with Roy. How he felt and what had happened. Roy had teased, a light thing, “the great Jason Todd finally caught by a pretty little thing.”

Then Roy had offered his two cents. That Jason should be honest with you about everything not just being Red Hood but about his feelings too. All of it sounded good in theory and when you had texted him, Roy sent him off with the support of a full cheerleading squad.

And there you were in a too big t-shirt that he was sure was his, looking utterly exhausted and sad. So unbelievably sad that all his confessions died in his chest. He hugged you, carried you and your reminder to change into more comfortable clothes made him think of all the times you’ve taken care of each other. It made his heart ache.

Laying on your chest listening to your heart, Jason remembered how much of a coward he was when it came to you. The affectionate touch of your hands on him made him realize just how starved he was for you after a week and how if you ever told him to leave he might die again. So, he cried, something he hadn’t down in years because despite the insane life he’s lead, everything suddenly felt so entirely hopeless with you.

You had touched him with the affection of a thousand suns, like you always do, wiping at his tears. No fear, no trembling hand, or hesitation. You just comforted him without thought. He was so in love with you, it was ruining his life and you were not helping.

You step out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel that could be longer. Jason’s brain blanks for a moment as his eyes track up your bare legs, more primal urges filtering into his mind at the sight of them.

“Jason?” your voice is a small quiet thing, and it snaps his eyes from your legs to your face. He can feel the warmth on his cheeks at being caught but you don’t seem bothered by his staring. You wave him over with your hand and he shifts forward on the couch slightly.

“What?”

You repeat the hand motion with more emphasis, “come on,” you say like your mildly annoyed with him even though your grinning. You don’t wait for another response from him, just disappear down the hallway to the bedroom.

Were you seducing him? Is that what this is? He knows when he waltzed out of the bathroom in just a towel, he was trying to distract you (and maybe seduce you a bit but you hadn’t taken the bait). He hesitates on the couch, a little unsure due to emotional turmoil and physical reactions. He wills himself to calm down when you call out for him again in a more curious tone.

When he breaches the doorway, he finds you still in the short towel rifling through the top drawer of the dresser. Underwear, he thinks, pick the pink ones. He kicks himself for the sudden thought and the heat traveling southward. Jason wasn’t a perv, but he had seen most of your underwear due to helping you with your laundry. You had been embarrassed the first couple of times, but it stopped bothering you once he started using your clean undies as slingshots. He continued doing every laundry day because of the way you fell into cackling mess when one would hit you in the face, calling him “such a boy.”

“Did you need something, sweetheart?” he tries to keep his voice level as he asks but he doesn’t entire stop himself from staring at your bare shoulder or legs. You glance at him over your shoulder, hair sticking to the exposed skin.

“Just wanted you close. Promise to keep your eyes closed?” you ask, and Jason is suddenly hit in the gut with how much trust you have in him.

“Promise.” His voice cracks slightly and he clears his throat. He’s happy to know that he’s not the only one wanting to skip out on propriety just to be near each other. He steps over to the unmade bed flops on his back, staring at the ceiling before he closes his eyes. He hears your towel drop to the ground and he tries to think of anything but you being naked in the same room as him.

“Are you okay, Jay?” he hears you ask as you shuffle around, “last night, well, last night you were crying, and I don’t think I’ve seen you cry before. Not that there’s anything wrong with crying, it’s like a good release of emotions or something. I’ve just never seen you cry, and I hoped that it didn’t have anything to do with me, you know? I would hope you would tell me if I did something that had upset you that much.”

You’re rambling, an anxious tick that didn’t show up very often. You usually forgot to breathe when you did that. Apparently, dressing yourself didn’t help either. You huff as you try to catch your breath at the end of your words. It makes Jason smile at your quiet wheezing before he catches up with your words.

He takes a moment to think. What could he say?  ‘Oh, yeah, I cried because I realized the only way to keep you in my life is to continue to lie to you.’ He’s sure that would go over well. Apparently, he sat in thought long enough. He feels the bed dip and he assume you’re lying by him.

“Still naked, sweetheart?” he teasingly asks instead of offering you an explanation.

“Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” the words and near sensual teasing tone has Jason’s eyes opening wide in surprise. He finds you leaning your head against your propped hand. Before Jason can stop himself his eye flickered down to your clothed chest. You must catch him and are entirely too delighted by it, a full chested laughter leaving you.

What happened to the startled girl who ran away to the shower? Your laughter dies but you still smile at him. It drops slightly when he watches your eyes move up on his face and he suddenly remembers the cut he got (a dumb fight he dealt with after he took his helmet off, like an idiot).

Your hand not propping up your head settles on his chest over his heart, and he wonders if you can feel it beating as loud as he can hear it. The hand travels down and then slips under the hem of his t-shirt. His muscles twitch at your touch and his hand wraps around your wrist, stilling your movements.

“What’re you doing?” he mumbles in pure confusion because when did you decide you were going to touch him like this?

“You’re hurt, aren’t you?” the concern in your voice throws him off. He thought you were trying to cope a feel. What is happening? Your hand moves higher despite the way he holds your wrist, and he flinches when your fingers press into the bruise on his ribs.

You sit up and push his shirt up to see and it makes him think about the night in the manor, the way you had sat on him and pushed his shirt up only to tell him you hated him.

“Oh my god! Jason, what happened?” your voice shrills slightly, and it makes him flinch again. He glances at the dark purpling on his chest. Nothing was broken and the bruise was already healing, turning yellow around the edges. He didn’t know why you were freaking out until he remembered that a bruise like that wasn’t normal. It wasn’t something a civilian would just have.

He pushes your hands out of the way pulls shirt back down, “Nothing sweetheart. Just had a little accident.”

“Accident?” you ask as he sits up and he can hear the disbelief in your voice, “is this from your job? How- did someone do that? Did you get into a fight?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Jason snaps and he wished he had just bit his tongue with the way you look at him, suddenly put off, “I’m sorry, sorry,” he rushes out taking your hands. You don’t pull away, thank god, but you still have this look to your eyes.

“It really was an accident from work. It’s embarrassing, honestly,” he tells you rubbing soothing at your knuckles. Embarrassing was an understatement. Roy had already saved from getting shot and he missed the guy sneaking up on him. He would’ve been toast if Kori hadn’t gotten there as fast as she had. That’s why Roy had started scolding him.

You seem to take his word for it, tense shoulders relaxing down. You nod and stand without a word disappearing into the hallway. Why was communicating with you so hard sometimes? Oh yeah, you didn’t know about half of his life, and he was still actively choosing to lie to you about it.

“I don’t think it expires,” your voice startles him from his self-loathing as you step back into the room holding a small jar, “I can’t find a date on it but it’s only a few months old so I can’t imagine it would be too old.”

You settle back on the bed, crisscross and face him. Your eyes meet his and you smile, a sudden teasing thing and Jason wishes he could read your mind.

“Take your shirt off.” You say plainly and Jason hands make it to tugging at the hem of his shirt before pausing.

“What for?” you turn the bottle in your hand and show him the bruise cream you two had gotten months ago for your wrist.

“It’ll help wont it?” you ask.

“It doesn’t hurt.”

“Yes, it does. You flinched.”

“You shoved your hand up my shirt,” he argues, “it surprised me, okay?”

“Please,” you roll your eyes, “it’s not the first time I’ve pulled your shirt up… like… that?”

There you go again. That concentrated pinch of your brow shows itself, like you’re confused about your own words. Knowledge existing at the edges of your memory. You shake your head of what ever thought may have been connecting in your mind.

“Just let me put it on and then you can take me to work.”

“Oh, this is a bargaining chip then,” he teases and pulls his shirt off over his head. He lays back down on his back, hands behind his head with cocky grin as he watches you suddenly fluster at the sight of his chest. It makes him want to laugh. You had asked him to take his shirt off.

“Bargaining chip,” you mutter under your breath, “like you weren’t planning to take me to work anyways.” You say it matter-of-factly while you open the bottle and lightly press some of the cream to his bruise. His breathe hitches at the cold feeling, at your fingers to his bare chest. He watches your eyes flicker to his face then down to his chest. You stare at one spot longer than the others and he’s sure you’re going to ask about the autopsy scar again but then your gaze averts to stare at the bruise.

Jason thinks that maybe he isn’t the only problem in this relationship. You didn’t ask questions, or you would but only once. Even if you never got an answer. You should both be better about that. You finish rubbing the cream into the bruise and then wipe the left-over residue on your hand against the sheets. You were right about it helping, a cooling feeling seeping into his ribs, easing pains he hadn’t been totally aware of.

“Why don’t you drink?” he asks a question he had been wondering about since the brunch, when he could see past his own emotional turmoil. Jason drank socially but he knew that alcohol was just another drug to drag people into the abyss of addiction. That was from his life experience, but he got the feeling that you didn’t even drink socially. You tip your head with a thoughtful expression.

“I was in a car accident,” you start slowly, “with my sister, Natalie.” That was the first time you’ve said a name when mentioning your sister. Jason listens intently at the new information about you proffered in a single sentence, “we were hit by a drunk driver. It- Natalie-” You pause with a heavy sigh, “I promised myself that I would never cause that type of pain. There was never going to be a guarantee that I would be able to stop myself from climbing into a car even if I was tipsy. So, my solution was to just never drink until the brunch, of course.” You sound pained, a heaviness to your words as you spoke about your past concerned Jason.

“I’m sorry,” Jason replies, and it feels flat, like it’s not enough. You shrug and slide off the bed.

“I’m going to get my shoes on,” you say quietly, not meeting his eye.

After you leave, Jason drags his shirt back onto his body. With a moment not distracted by you, he thinks he’s heard you say Natalie once before, but it wasn’t as Jason. You hadn’t told him about her. No, it had been as Red Hood when he saved you the first time you had been kidnapped.

Taken by Scarecrow and experimented on for his new fear toxin. When he found you, you had been crying and calling out Natalie’s name mixed with apologies. That paired with the way you shared your information made him think Natalie maybe got more than just hurt in that car accident.

He wanted to pry at you about this new information about your life before Gotham, but he didn’t like how sad you looked when you talked about it, the overshadow of grief that followed you. He would leave it alone for now, grateful that you shared anything at all.

“I’m so serious about your driving me to work, Jason. You made me late.” your worried tone makes him smile. Of course, you’d blame him for being the distraction and not the way you very intentionally (at least he thought so) attempted to flirt with him.

Additional note: Jason’s learning! Part of loving someone is knowing their past so you can understand the way they think. Neither of them just offers up information so they gotta ask. Jason's figured that out. Reader has too but Jason’s too touchy about some subjects (because he’s already lying in the first place) so she just doesn’t ask again. She’s going to get some more Brunch information in the next chapter and understand why everyone is being standoffish (i.e. its not because she told Jason she liked him). Thank you for reading and please let me know what you think!!

Tag List: @little-miss-naill, @nikilolo787, @joonunivrs, @uzxotic, @qardasngan, @stormz369,  @g4bbi3xx, @iwatobiswimbros, @the-lonely-flute, @elz-xo, @gone-batty-fics, @princessesgarden, @notfckincreative, @love-theangel, @feyres-fireheart, @penguimlover23, @herodedicatedblog, @dearghostling, @automaticplant, @alma-ru3, @13fresh, @anuttellaa, @nekotaetae, @redsakura101, @sleepy-head1, @aejabba, @asteria33, @princessbl0ss0m, @sinnamon-bunn, @wholelottalove05

[witchesoven]

Can you do a scenario where Shadow Milk Cookie catches a mentally exhausted reader about to fall off the ledge of the spire but he catches them because he loves them?

Pairing: Shadow Milk Cookie x Mentally Exhuasted!Reader

Contents: SFW, Angst, Implied mental illness + passive suicidal ideation? I think?

Word Count: 615

A/N: Please forgive me, this is kind of ass, I’m so sorry 😭😭

Content under the cut!

Shadow Milk’s twisting and warping domain did little to aid your broken mind. You’d often find yourself wandering the halls, only to find yourself in free fall, just to face plant onto a carpet a second later.

You’ve lost track of how long you’ve been trapped here. Peering through the windows of the Spire gave you no indication, as everything is controlled by the Beast himself.

You’re not even sure how you originally wound up in the Spire of Shadows. All you can recall is ditching your horrid life behind and seeking solace in a forest to have a mental breakdown. You’ve been having a lot of those lately. It doesn’t help that you feel like you’re being watched every time it happens, too.

As you’re pondering your life choices, wondering where it all went downhill, you felt the ground shift beneath you. You were casually strolling down a secluded hallway when, mid-step, the Spire warped again, and the ground that was meant to meet your foot never came.

Your heart dropped to your stomach as you felt the pull of gravity drag you downwards. You wanted to scream, but all the air had already rushed out of your lungs. All that was left was to accept your fate. Remembering you had no control of your life, that everything was forced and put upon you, made it a little easier. You closed your eyes and felt a flicker of peace well up in your soul. If you were going to go out, this wasn’t too bad a way.

The domain blurred past you as you fell. You could see part of the Spire in all its glory, gleaming in the faux light that bathed the place. This was it, you thought, the peace of the end of it all settling in your mind.

Only for a pair of arms to catch you and hoist you upward. Two mismatched eyes met yours, a wide grin plastered on the sly bastard’s face.

“Ah ah ah…I can’t have you going and exiting the stage so soon! Our tale has just begun!” Shadow Milk’s lilting voice gave up its usual flare, betraying a hint of softness underneath. The beast clung to you as hard as you clung to him, as if you were his lifeline, despite the fact you were the one freefalling to your death. You could feel the cold of his hands seeping through your clothes and into your skin.

Shadow Milk carried you to an open window and dropped you onto the floor unceremoniously, hovering just above the windowsill. You huff and dusted yourself off, standing and staring him in the face.

“Y’know, I was just fine plummeting to my death. Why’d you have to go and ruin it?” You say. Shadow Milk’s grinning face wavered just barely, but he covers it well.

“Oh my darling, you shouldn’t be going off script like that! Like I said, I need you with me for the climax of this play~” He says, giggling. You cross your arms at his cryptic talk.

“Now now. You be careful around here, mkay? There are sooo many dangers around here, I’d absolutely hate it for you to get hurt!” He says, as if he didn’t magic the damn place to his own liking. He pats your head as he talks, then summons a swirling portal.

Shadow Milk bows to you right before he disappears through the portal, the sound of his laughter echoing in the halls.

You sigh and sag against the wall, the exhaustion of almost dying hitting you like a brick. You were never really strong, anyways.

You don’t notice, but after the incident, you haven’t tripped in his domain ever since.

[onboardsorasora]

reverse age gap au - part 7

ok I made a banner for it so you know its real lmao

cw: a smidge dubious consent

Part 1 | Part 5 | Part 6 (not really but shrug)

Daniel jumped out of the car, helmet in hand and tugging his balaklava with the other. He nodded to one of his mechanics and walked over to his cubby. He sighed, and went through the motions of scraping a towel through his sweaty curls and guzzling some cool electrolyte drink. He staunchly fought from glancing over at Max’s side of the garage. 

He knew what he’d find anyway– Max ignoring him. Broad back turned while he spoke and laughed with everyone. He didn’t look over and grin at Daniel anymore, didn’t touch him randomly in the garage or paddock. Didn’t acknowledge his existence outside of social media videos. And even those had been lessened, they've been doing individual challenges recently. Lots of trivia and drawing games, things they didn’t need to be near each other for. Daniel knew that was a Max change, he fought the sting at the thought.

He tried to not let it get to him, not let it make him depressed or anything. Because Lewis and Fernando told him that Max was acting out because he was jealous. Daniel didn’t get it, Max was mad as hell, but it wasn’t like he wanted Daniel all that much. 

Sure he was naive, but Daniel was starting to recognize the signs of a situationship. His sister had told him not to fall into the trap of those…. And he had. But that wasn’t happening anymore. 

Not to say whatever was going on with Fernando and Lewis was a relationship either, but at least Daniel felt like a knowing participant of whatever the fuck it was. If they were using him for a fuck then sure because the sex was good. They were overwhelming in a good way. And they never did anything he didn’t want to do– which wasn’t much but the few times he’d been hesitant they’d pivoted and never brought it back up.

Which was good, great even. But Daniel couldn’t help but wish this was all happening with Max. His crush on his teammate was strong, teeth sunken into his skin like a mosquito. Taking one last look over at Max’s back, Daniel left the garage to go to his driver’s room. He needed to get his head on straight.

~*~

The party had been raging for what felt like hours, as it did when the team celebrated a win and a podium. Daniel was drunk, felt like he’d been drunk since the champagne that afternoon. They were supposed to have left the country tonight but absolutely no one was making that flight. 

He stumbled to a group of engineers that seemed like they were planning to leave, and Daniel smiled at their slurred laughs and shoulder pats. They were organizing a car and yeah, Daniel was ready to lay down in his bed.

He let the buzz of conversation and accents wash over him while he waited with the group. He swayed where he stood before jolting forward at the press of a hand between his shoulder blades. He got into a van, smushed in between two mechanics. He eventually settled in someone’s lap, laughing when they all realized that that would be the only way for all of them to fit in the one car. No one wanted to be the one to have to wait the however long for the next one. 

The guys were rowdy in the car, singing footy chants and laughing for the short trip. They all stumbled out at the hotel, Daniel was too busy feeling in his pockets for his hotel keycard to notice the conversations above him.

“Take good care of him yeah?” Someone was saying, Daniel looked up when he felt a hand on his shoulder guiding him to the lifts. It wasn’t until he was in the mirrored box that he realized the person leading him was Max. Daniel stilled in his shock, his key card slipped from his fingers to the floor with a little clatter. He stooped to scoop it up and swayed when he got back up and Max’s hand was back on his shoulder to steady him.

Max didn’t say anything, and Daniel continued to watch him as the elevator continued upwards. It stopped at his floor, and Daniel moved to get out but Max’s grip stopped him. The doors closed and the lift continued higher, Daniel tried to catch Max’s eyes in the mirrored walls but he was also swaying where he stood, seemingly as drunk as Daniel was.

The lift stopped again and Max pushed Daniel out into the carpeted hallway, they stopped at a door that Max took a moment or two to swipe them into. Daniel felt like he stopped breathing, waiting for Max to realize who he was with and to send him off on his way. No, instead Max pulled him into the room and pushed him on top of the clean sheets.

“Max?” Daniel croaked, shifting to lean upwards on his elbows. Max kneeled on the bed and shuffled forward. Daniel didn’t know what to do. He was drunk, Max seemed drunker. Max also hated him right now.

Max leaned over him, pressing himself against Daniel in a way Daniel had been dreaming about forever.

“Max?” Daniel tried again, his voice felt wobbly. And then Max kissed him– sloppy and dirty and Daniel moaned. Max had never kissed him before, not in all the time they’d been fooling around. He froze in shock as Max’s hands wandered, groping him through his sweaty teamwear. 

Max stripped him methodically, and Daniel let him. He felt a little bit out of his body if he was being honest. This was everything he ever wanted but he couldn’t help but feel like it was also wrong. Max had been ignoring him, been actively pretending he didn’t exist outside of engineering meetings. Hell, he’d barely wasted any of his first place champagne spray on Daniel, instead focusing on GP who’d gone up for the constructors. 

It didn’t make sense that Max was now all over him after getting drunk. Maybe he thought Daniel was someone else. Which hurt but would explain this better than any other explanation Daniel’s sloshed brain could come up with.

Max took off his shirt and Daniel’s brain shut down as he stared at his pale chest. He wanted to suck his tits, bite his nipples. But it felt wrong to take advantage of this situation. Call him a perpetual good guy or whatever, but he was trying to have a moral compass. When Max shucked his jeans off and Daniel watched his hard cock bounce outline his briefs, Daniel felt like he had to try again.

“Max– I.”

“Do you ever shut up Daniel?” Max muttered before shucking his briefs down and stroking his dick. Daniel’s mouth snapped shut in shock, saying nothing when Max kneeled over him again, hazy blue eyes watching intently as he pressed his tip against Daniel’s lips. Daniel gasped and Max fed him his length, moaning at the wet heat of him.

“Is this the only way to shut you up?” Max murmured, sliding his hips backwards and hissing when he thrusted back in slowly. Daniel looked up at him from where drool and pre was leaking from the side of his lips. He held Max’s thighs tightly, squeezing the muscle while he worked Max’s dick. Max sighed above him, head flopping backwards while he thrusted lazily against Daniel’s tongue.

“This is definitely why they keep you around” Max groaned meanly, he curled his fingers in Daniel’s sweaty hair and picked up his pace a little. Grinding his hips at the end of every thrust against the back of Daniel’s mouth. He kept going until Daniel choked, coughing when Max finally withdrew and slid off the bed.

Daniel felt like he could finally breathe and think as he watched Max rummage through his bag. He felt more confused than anything, discombobulated. But not enough to stop this, not anymore. 

Max staggered back towards the bed and motioned for Daniel to get on his hands and knees. He did so, stumbling when Max pulled his jeans down off his hips. He didn’t even get to kick the heavy fabric off his legs before Max was already pressing into his hole with one finger. Daniel gasped and stilled, goosebumps erupted over his skin. Max didn’t waste much time, fingering him smoothly with one finger before adding the second. It burned for a little but Daniel at least was comfortable with the feeling. 

When he got to three fingers, Daniel was a writhing mess. It felt good, a little rough and Max’s fingers were brushing his prostate. He couldn’t help but compare it to Lewis and Fernando. Not as if they’d been any softer but Daniel felt he could tell that everyone seemed to have their own fingering style. As weird a thought as that was to have while being fingered drunkenly by his crush who still potentially hated him but was very clearly going to fuck his brains out.

“Cmon!” Daniel goaded, ready to see stars on Max’s dick. This was quite possibly his only opportunity to get it.

Max chuckled, but stopped his prep. Daniel felt him move behind him, he shivered in anticipation.

“Such a slut for it already?” Max gripped his hips and lined himself up. Daniel bit his lip against Max’s meanness. Max groaned loudly when he bottomed out, grinding forward to get just a bit more.

Daniel moaned at Max’s rough pace, collapsing onto his forearms as pleasure skated up his spine. His cock was leaking below him, staining his jeans where his precome dripped between his legs. 

He reached between his legs and gripped his dick, squeezing to maybe stave off his orgasm that was already coming. Max had other plans, fucking into him harder until he lost his balance and laid flat on the sheets, hand trapped below him.

Max ground into him, the angle making Daniel see stars. He came with a groan of Max’s name, trailing off into a whine when Max pulled out almost immediately. Daniel felt the hot drips of come on his back and heard Max’s slurred groans. 

He wished maybe he’d have been able to see him, see Max come apart. Instead, he laid there bonelessly, not quite ready to get up and face whatever this was.

[dakusan]

Hi!! I happened to stumble across your page and the vampire!SKZ is literally my new obsession. I love your writing style and every lore update has me checking your page like clockwork! I love it so bad!! That being said I have delusions/questions I would love to share and ask!! Totally self-indulgent but what if Chan/other boys stumbled across his soulmate while they were working as a resident in one of the luxe facilities? What would that mean for any current blood dolls that may or may not be bonded? What about some soulmate blood dolls drama? Maybe some cat fighting that results in the boys humbling the ex blood dolls? (I live for the drama) With the soulmate knowing? Without? Maybe keep it a secret? Back on track here, how does Chan go about telling soulmate? What’s the courting process look like? What’s Chan doing about a chronically overworked resident? Would he want soulmate to eventually stop working and just let him take care of them? Maybe works out a way for them to have reduced hours? What does it look like when soulmate finally gives in and really becomes his? Is there a period where no one sees soulmate except for Chan/very few trusted bodyguards? Maybe too afraid to let soulmate out of sight? Anyways, as you can see I’m quite literally obsessed and this is now from my favorite distraction from the nonsense of constant 24 hr shifts. Please never stop and I hope you’re having a beautiful day!

-sincerely a tired resident

🩺( I think this is a fitting, no?)

hello 🩺 anon —

first off: you have no idea how much your message means to me. your energy? divine. your vision? feral. your brain? an all-you-can-eat buffet of delicious vampire drama and mate-bond angst.

also — from one exhausted soul to another: if you’re working constant 24-hour shifts, then this little chaotic universe now belongs to you.

so. let’s talk: bang chan x overworked soulmate working as a Luxe Health resident. with some bloody doll drama.

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

🩸 YOU, THE RESIDENT.

You're three years into residency at LUXE HEALTH’s Seoul campus, the most prestigious medical facility for vampire-human trauma and hybrid births. You’re exhausted, brilliant, and perpetually underestimated — mostly because you’re human in a building run by monsters with PhDs.

You work long shifts. You skip meals. You treat vampire mothers mid-rage-state while nursing a wrist injury. And you're still better than half the born-vamps on your floor.

So you don’t notice the black-suited executive watching you from the Level V glass corridor.

Not at first.

🩸 BANG CHAN – CEO. BORN ABNORMAL. SOULMATCHED. DOOMED.

When Chan smells you for the first time in OR 3, it almost brings him to his knees. Not just because you smell right — like blood that was made for him, stitched to his soul. No, it’s the shock of it.

You're human.

And you’re in his hospital. His territory. Wearing another vampire’s blood tag. He recognizes it instantly: the copper bite mark, the healed-over scar near your shoulder. You belong to someone — or you did.

That’s when the rage starts.

🩸 THE DRAMA: BLOOD DOLL, MEET SOULMATE.

The moment your scent hits Chan, any existing blood doll is done. There’s no discussion. No slow weaning off. He snaps their feeding contract and has security escort them out by nightfall.

“They tasted like ash the second you walked into my world.” Cue the ex blood doll throwing a tantrum in the Luxe atrium, claiming “he’s mine, he promised,” while Chan watches from the mezzanine with a death stare and a hand twitching near his watch.

There are rumours. They say the CEO found his match. They say the new resident has no idea.

🩸 DOES HE TELL YOU?

Not at first.

You’re a human, sleep-deprived, overachieving perfectionist who doesn’t believe in fate. He watches you down caffeine pills and cry over charts in a dark breakroom.

So he decides to protect you first.

He reroutes your shifts to day-only. Installs another trauma attending on your floor. Silently upgrades your blood filtration access. Adds a panic button to your watch.

You don’t even know he’s doing it. He just starts appearing more. In elevators. In early conference debriefs. In your favourite tea shop near the hospital.

You ask, confused:

“Do you know who keeps upgrading my credentials?” “Hm,” he says, sipping his americano. “Must be someone who wants you alive.”

🩸 THE COURTING – VAMPIRE CEO STYLE.

It’s subtle at first.

Luxury-grade stethoscope shows up in your locker. A new lab coat in your exact size. Someone anonymously orders your favourite noodles on post-call nights.

One day, a single silver envelope appears under your door:

“I’d like to take care of you. You don’t have to say yes. But you’ve been mine since the moment you walked into my hospital.”

You think it’s a joke.

Then you look up and see him, waiting at the end of the corridor like a wolf in Dior.

🩸 WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU GIVE IN.

The day you finally give in is the day you collapse after assisting a 7-hour hybrid C-section.

You pass out. You wake up… in his penthouse. Hooked to an IV, tucked into satin sheets, wearing one of his shirts. You try to argue. He doesn’t raise his voice. He just sits on the edge of the bed, eyes glowing faintly.

“I will never stop you from doing what you love. But I draw the line at watching you bleed yourself dry for a system that doesn't love you back.” “You’re mine now,” he whispers, brushing hair from your cheek. “And I protect what's mine. Even from themselves.”

🩸 THE ERA OF DISAPPEARANCE.

No one sees you for days. Weeks, maybe. You’re officially “on sabbatical.”

But the truth? You’re in his private estate outside Seoul. Recovering. Feeding. Healing. Getting used to the bond. He feeds only from you now — reverent, controlled, obsessive. You sleep in his bed, wear his scent. The staff know not to enter the upper wing without permission.

There are whispers:

“The new soulmatch doesn’t leave the compound.” “He’s afraid someone will hurt them.” “He would burn down the entire blood network if they asked.”

🩸 LATER: NEGOTIATED FREEDOM.

Eventually, he lets you return to Luxe. Part-time. With your own bodyguard.

You’re still a doctor. He respects that.

But you now live in his world, wear his mark, and sleep in a bed guarded by silver-spelled walls.

He still lets you work. But you’re not allowed to break yourself anymore. And if anyone so much as mentions the ex blood doll’s name again? He’ll smile. Softly.

“She thought she was a chapter. You’re the whole story.”

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

🩸 anon, you are the soulmatch of my lore. also please eat, rest, and know you’re already ten times stronger than any vamp i’ve written 🥀

[kiththecat]

this is going to sound so ubnoxious, but i saw a lifesteal confession and immediately realised that im probably guilty of the exact thing it was talking about (people mostly caring about branzy when it comes to lifesteal and clownzy). but after a minute of thinking (🤔<- like this) i could kiiiinda pinpoint why and i thought it'd be interesting enough to vocalise, at least.

in my head, there's a very clear line between "the guy whose vidoes i watch while eating lunch" and "the guy i make fanworks of." even though its technically the same guy. i love watching branzy's videos. he's extremely entertaining and talented. but i also have a separate version of him that's based on the character he plays. the guy who in many cases has a story that ends up being very tied to clowns. being the most important person to the deadliest guy is a compelling character and i find that very fun to explore in writing. admittedly the bit they've got going on where they flirt unprompted is still kinda peak and that is definitely something i'd want to see more of.  very chill about it though. *wink*

however, and this is where i wholeheartedly agree with everything in the confession. i really dislike it when the comment section on branzy's videos mention clown in a video clown's barely in. cc!branzy could spend five hundred hours working on a minecraft project and if clownpierce happens to be eluded to, then that's what a lot of the comments will be about. now i LOVE clownzy crumbs because i'm a pathetic individual, but there are so many other things to talk about in branzy's non-lifesteal content than the gay bit he did two years ago. 

anyway here are some elements of branzy's character that i really appriciate bout him

he is like a jack of all trades. sure he's not the very very best in any field, but he's a great builder, great redstoner, great at survival things, great at the game in general. i think his strongest trait is just how dedicated he is to whatever he decides to do. he loves a challenge, he loves overkill and theatrics, he needs mental stimulation and work or else he dies.

in after hours smp he commited so many crimes... so many. one thing i loved is that for that video he had to research these crimes and come up with a minecraft equivalent. he's extremely creative and his brain works in weird, sort of morbid and somehow also cutesy ways.

or in the video where he's building a computer in minecraft with rek. one moment he doesn't get what's happening and he asks rek to "explain it to me like im a puppy" or something. and it's such a silly little moment but i like that he just found no shame in asking. in general he's just very down to earth and shameless.

he is not in any way morally upstanding. if he saw a big read button that said "press this to kill one hundred random children" he'd not hesitate. if the button was protected with top security measures he'd do whatever it takes to get past them. he does not care about good and bad. please never give him morals.

his love language is killing his friends for fun

okay here's a personal preference but he needs to have some wacky job. if you're writing this man he needs to be money laundering. or running a pyramid scheme. why would anyone put him in a school, or a cafe. he's a palm reader who sucks but takes money before readings and runs away. he's running a sweatshop and all the worker uniforms are weird costumes. he's a janitor but he uses special access to steal things. he has one hundred different identities. why am i describing stanley pines.

moving on.

there is so much love in him. he loves the craft (insert trademark mark here), he loves the people around him, he finds joy in pretty flowers, he finds joy in setting pretty flowers on fire.

many more things to say but the gist is. bramzycraft....

he's a dad now and i think that's beautiful. buuuuuuuuut the baby doesnt have anything to do with toxic yaoi (that we know of... 👁️👁️) so how important is it REALLY.

clownzy jesus out.

[overbaked-tkls]

hello, I like your works so much!! You make awesome fanfics and despite the fact that I have to use a translator because I don’t speak English I can read your fanfics every day!

I have ask for you, can you write a fanfic about Lee!Jason and Ler!Guest1337 (or anyone who you want)?

I hope I didn’t make too many mistakes while I was writing. And by the way, have a nice day!

hi, i'm super glad you like my writing! it's good that it translates nicely.

anyways LEE!JASON FOR FRIDAY THE 13TH BABYYYY YEAA!!

also WHAT. never speak again /j (i laughed for a solid minute)

(this is a sfw tickle fic! if you don't like it don't read it)

"Maybe you've got something underneath that jacket.”

words: 2,984

ler!guest1337, lee!jason

summary: rip jason's machete ????-2025 you wont be missed

---

The hum of various appliances and LED lights in the extensive horror hotel map droned on, as quick footsteps thumped against the floor. The tapping against kitchen tile, the slight creak on wooden floors, and the soft padding against brightly patterned carpet were just natural for any chase. Even more so for Jason, who was used to hunting people down to the last of their stamina, given the absence of ranged attacks in his arsenal.

His first target, Noob, hadn’t really gotten much of a head start as they were taken by surprise while doing a generator. As a result, the masked killer had made quick work of the poor survivalist. Just one more hit, and they were done for. 

He was about to finish them off, lunging to swing through one of the doorways, when someone from the side of his vision quickly invaded his space. An armored hand reeled back, before throwing itself forward. Guest 1337 had caught him halfway through a machete swing with a powerful strike, effectively stunning the killer. Noob looked back slightly to give a desperate thankful look, before booking it away. Hopefully to get a medkit.

However, Guest’s hand hadn’t only collided with Jason’s head, but it also smashed against his machete on the way. Notable for a couple reasons, one being it was a complete accident, something that would be pretty hard to replicate on purpose. Two being that despite the death grip on the weapon, the action violently ripped the blade out of the killer’s hand, sending it flying straight into Jason’s face. The machete ended up ricocheting off the top of his plastic mask, flinging surprisingly far away from the two of them up into the air.

Unrealistically far. 

Strangely.. Far?

… Is it going to come back down??

Even Guest paused for a moment to watch the weapon disappear over one of the tall rock walls while Jason was stunned. “What the hell..?” Certainly not the strangest thing that’s happened here, though. He quickly recovered as an active chainsaw was swung at him, to which he dodged and promptly ditched the scene.

It took a bit for Guest to lose chase, but a lot less than normal for some reason– Jason seemed much less confident without his main blade. However, when the killer left to go find a different victim, 1337 returned to stalk a bit behind. He did that on the norm, because it made it simpler to assist others when they started getting chased. Now though, the soldier was thinking a bit ahead. The chainsaw was all the mute killer had left as a weapon… aside from their hands, theoretically. But still, it would be a lot easier for the other survivors to, well… survive, if Jason was completely disarmed. And he was carrying the chainsaw on his back, so he could probably just… take it? 

1337 wasn’t the type to act on impulse, but once he committed to something, he didn’t back out. So after constructing a rather simple plan, he crept up behind the killer and yanked at the weapon. Jason quickly swiveled around, swinging an empty hand on instinct. Without the blade in it though, Guest just caught it and finished the job of taking the chainsaw off, tossing it to the side before harshly shoving Jason forward.

The veteran didn’t pay attention to the way the killer stumbled back into a wall, slightly cowering for a second. Guest didn’t really know anything about chainsaws, but he figured if he stomped on the chain and landed a good kick on the entire handle area, it would do something. So he did, and… somehow, it actually worked? The chain came off around where he struck, rendering the weapon practically useless. If Guest had been given any more time, he might have considered how strange that was. But he only looked back at Jason to see what the next move was. The killer showed clear hesitation, before stepping forward and trying to attack with his bare hands. Guest swore he could see fear, even with the mask covering Jason’s entire face. Nonetheless, he struck back significantly harder, throwing Jason onto the floor. 

The killer didn’t get up.

Were sentinels.. always this scary? Not having a weapon in his hand gave Jason a strange, unnerving sense of clarity, like Guest’s expression actually registered in his head. It was a determined, yet apprehensive look that made him feel uneasy. Something tugged at the back of his mind to get up and fight again, but every time the killer shifted on the floor, the sentinel tensed and his fists rose. It frightened him, enough so that he moved back, away from the sentinel. 

Looking down upon the unusual sight, Guest was torn between running away again, and staying to reason. He didn’t even feel like he was looking at a killer anymore. Though, it could be a trick to get him to come closer. Maybe the killer had a spare blade somewhere in that coat. Then again, if he did get stabbed once or twice, he could probably take it.

He wasn’t even sure yet what the whole deal with the killers was, even less about Jason himself, but as far as he knew they were probably experiencing a similar situation. Most of them gave ‘free rounds’ every once in a while, or seemed awfully disconnected from reality for actively participating in murder. Like the killers weren’t willingly there half the time– with some exceptions, of course. 

Being forced to kill people when you didn’t really want to was something Guest hadn’t quite come to experience himself, but he certainly wasn’t foreign to the idea, and couldn’t help but feel a little bad.

But his mind was mostly on helping the team. If he could convince Jason to stop completely, that would be the best for the survivors…

“H-hey. Just…” 1337 exhaled, taking a step closer. “Calm it, would you? You know, we… Don’t have to fight, since you don’t have a weapon. And I won’t punch you anymore, if you stop. I mean… wouldn’t a break be nice?”

Silence. It was expected, obviously. Although, Jason did look up at the soldier hearing the offer. Was that.. always a choice? The majority of his decisions during rounds– well, he thought they were his, but still– they were more about ‘go this way’ or ‘cut them off there’. But now he saw himself thinking a lot farther than he was used to. Clearer.

Just as the veteran was coming to terms with how hard a one-sided negotiation was going to be, Jason slightly nodded.

“.. Oh. Really?” The simplicity of the bargain caught Guest slightly off-guard. If only the people in his past had surrendered like that– or maybe even the other killers. But that was just plain unlikely– this probably only happened because he managed to disarm the other. Well, hopefully disarmed, anyway. He’d have to check.

“Okay then. You… are just going to stay here. And we’re going to wait out the timer.” Guest hesitated for another second, before fully approaching and going on one knee in front of the killer. “Hold still for a second.”

The masked killer moved back again at the sudden movement, ignoring the request.

“Hey, hey. Just need to frisk you real quick. Gotta make sure you’re not going to pull another blade on me while I’m not paying attention. Oh, and keep your hands up where I can see them?” Although Guest was a soldier, not a police officer, he wasn’t foolish enough to take easily avoidable risks. So he waited for Jason to do what he asked.

Again in the back of Jason’s head, something angrily yelled at him to not do it, to not listen to a ‘pathetic’ survivor's request. Something other than the normal encouraging voice that normally followed him around anytime he was in a round.

… But he complied with Guest anyway, and after that, the nagging disappeared. Like ‘it’ gave up, or something. Talk about pathetic.

1337 hummed in approval, before beginning to move his hands along the killer's jacket. He was quick to realize it was pretty thick, and by extension heavy. Even though he knew he wouldn’t receive a response, Guest still remarked his thoughts out loud. 

“How you carry a chainsaw and a heavy jacket around while still managing to be so fast is beyond me.. It’s impressive, to say the least.”

Both the amount of pockets Jason had and the thickness of the jacket made it inconvenient to search the killer, especially since Guest hadn’t ever searched someone before. He ended up having to roughly double check a few of the outside pockets because he wasn't sure of his work, although that didn’t end up being the main problem. The entire process wouldn't have taken more than twenty seconds if Jason didn't shift away every five, bringing his hands to where Guest was searching and making the soldier flinch back. 

The veteran’s hands were invasive, although not necessarily unwelcome. Jason wasn’t trying to interrupt him on purpose, but it just felt strange– familiar in a way, yet completely foreign to how he was used to being touched nowadays. Without the intent to hurt, but with enough roughness to earn something other than the knowledge his pockets were empty; he felt himself smile slightly underneath the plastic mask. And then immediately fought to remove it, wondering why it was there.

After giving a prolonged glare, 1337 moved the killer’s hands away to resume his search, completely unaware of what he had just caused. “.. Don’t really appreciate you spooking me like that. So if you could just. Not do that…”

Jason ended up repeating the same action only ten seconds later, but this time Guest didn't jolt away. Instead, he instinctively closed his fists like he would to prepare for a punch, significantly tightening his grip around Jason’s waist pockets.. and also his torso. Guest removed himself from Jason’s side right after, standing up and grunting out an annoyed response. 

“acK- Can you no-” The soldier was going to complain again, but quieted right after looking at the killer. His eyebrows raised at the sight.

Jason had brought his knees closer to his chest, and held the area around where Guest had been frisking him. Confusedly rubbing at the spot.

Ah.

By then, he had finally figured Jason’s pockets were empty, but another question– well, more of a rhetorical excuse– had made itself clear. This was quite the opportunity, one even 1337 knew not to pass up. He wasn't really a boastful person, but the other sentinels would definitely be jealous if he pulled something like this off without getting stabbed. Well.. most of them, anyway.

Looking off to the side for a second, Guest briefly smiled before dropping the look and facing Jason once more. He kneeled back down, reaching out his arms and leaning over a bit. “... Move, I’m not done.” It was a lie, and despite requesting it, he didn’t wait for Jason to move his hands before running his own around the killer’s waist. And this time, he kneaded into his sides a lot more intentionally so it would still have the desired effect despite the jacket. “You know, this is taking a lot longer than it needs to, since you seem so insistent on squirming away from me.”

Only then did Jason finally recognize what that feeling was. However, he was a step behind, just a little too late to stop the soldier before he started. 

The most of the noise in the killer’s response was the shifting sound of coarse fabric, because once he was aware the sentinel was no longer just searching him, he didn’t stop himself from writhing. While only evident from his shoulders, Jason was definitely laughing, and although practically silent, it occasionally caught in his mouth and turned into a quiet snicker. The sensation didn’t feel natural whatsoever, but somehow reminded him of something that was. Or used to be. At least this was different– better, than the last time he remembered being handled so roughly. Anyways, what was he even supposed to do? Fight back?

Jason tried. Emphasis on tried, because Guest just took one of his hands and pinned it to the ground.

The veteran couldn’t help but smile again, strategically squeezing around the other’s midriff with his free hand. Score. “I’m just searching your pockets. What, got something to hide?”

Jason shook his head as his other arm waved around. The ‘no’ gesture was to both discredit Guest’s claim and deny the question, but it didn’t really matter. One thing he had learned about the sentinels is that they were extremely stubborn, even in death.

“No? Hm.. not sure I believe that.” Guest thought for a second, searching for an excuse. “Oh! Maybe you've got something underneath the coat.” 1337 brought his hands back around to the killer’s front, dipping them into where Jason’s jacket was open and repeating the same kneading motion directly on his shirt, just a bit gentler. He didn’t even try to hide the fact that the only thing he was ‘searching for’ at this point was a reaction. Guest didn’t even consider that revenge was an option, but it honestly serves Jason right. Always using heavy attacks whenever he missed his block…

The masked killer froze up for a split second, before practically losing it. Not used to this, at all. He tilted his head back, but still no real noise came out. His breathing was a little more obvious though.

The sentinel chuckled, casually speaking as he unpredictably alternated between soft and rough prodding. “... Alright, let’s be ‘serious’. You are… a little ticklish, for a ruthless murderer.” He was interrupted as Jason unsuccessfully tried to throw him off. “And squirmy.” 1337 took Jason’s other hand, and without being able to use it to balance himself upright, the killer fell on his back. It made Guest let go, but the veteran just quietly sighed and adjusted forward a bit.

Jason’s chest heaved. “Hey, look at me.” Guest brought his hands near the killer’s stomach to catch Jason’s attention, who looked at his hands instead. He didn’t even try to push at the veteran, in ‘fear’ he would be pinned again. “Actually, that works even better.” 1337 suddenly poised his hands, making the other jump, and then did nothing.

“This is how I feel trying to predict your attacks, by the way.” Halfway through the sentence, the soldier resumed poking and scribbling somewhere around the killer’s lower stomach and hips. He wasn’t paying attention exactly where, his eyes too busy attempting to glimpse at Jason’s through the small eye holes in his mask.

Jason did not think it would get worse, to say the least. The survivor kept stopping at random intervals and faking him out, both annoying him and making him jump every time 1337 actually resumed. So the screeching and laughter he heard the other day in limbo wasn’t over exaggerated...

“Difficult, right?” To the sentinel’s surprise, Jason nodded on top of his wriggling. Guest’s smile widened– he was actually listening. This would be quite the story, and he was thankful it would be him telling it. Anyone else in the cabin wouldn’t have a chance to be believed for this type of thing.

But of course, good things don't typically last forever. 1337 was almost too focused on the moment to notice the glint of metal that suddenly appeared in his vision. He quickly withdrew his hands, and then moved back– the machete had reappeared, resting on the killer like a twisted invitation. Jason’s hand instinctively twitched, feeling the metal against him, and he sat up. Since Guest had stopped, he picked the weapon up even though his hands were a bit shaky.

And then he realized he didn’t actually want to do anything with it. His mind finally felt clear for once, and he didn’t feel like losing that, as temporary as it probably was. Unsure of what to do with the blade, he carefully turned it in his hand and handed it to the survivor on the handle side. 

That was single-handedly the most surprising thing that had happened to Guest ever since he got put into this realm. But while he still had the chance, he quickly snatched the blade. Jason regretted it halfway through the motion, because he realized he just handed a weapon to someone he’d been stabbing in rounds for months. Nothing bad happened though, and he tilted his head curiously as 1337 turned and stood up, walking to an entryway to one of the more open spaces.

“Thanks.” Guest said simply, before chucking the weapon. Whatever caused the blade to spawn back would probably be a little mad about that one. “Sooo.” He did a 180, walking back. Jason had gotten up during that time, but didn’t run away. He crumbled slightly just looking at the sentinel. Still intimidating.

“Let’s wrap this up, yeah? We’ve got about… three minutes, I think.” Advancing quicker than the killer was ready for, the soldier quickly found where he’d left off. Although, he didn’t do any more squeezing, just soft, erratic little scribbles wherever he felt like. Each twist Jason did in attempts to get away made him feel just a little bit better about getting slashed at so many times.

After another minute or two, he stopped. “Not even sure if you understand how much this matters, by the way.”

And even through the aftermath, Jason most certainly did understand. Unfortunately.

. . .

It took a while to coax an answer out of Jason, but the two who noticed the strange nature of his return got it eventually. Neither made fun of him.

“Hah. Really hope they don’t attempt something like that on me. Would not end well.” Doe remarked, before jokingly nudging 1x.

Thousand-yard stare.

[ihopesocomicask]

Do you think it's possible to make a main protagonist of a story, who was an abusive person just like Vicious was, be likable? like, keeping the fact that they won't be forgiven by their victim, but at the same time exploring them actually evolving and becoming a better person and creating new healthy relationships. Not to pat abusers on the head, but yk, something like "You can choose to CHANGE". Because ngl I keep thinking about Vicious' future. I know she won't die and thankfully she will get out of Jasper's abuse, but what then? Would she go on a journey to realize her mistakes and act differently? Who knows.

I see a lot of people talking about Bojack Horseman, but I don't know if it's a good example because apparently the point of his character is to be a hypocrite who acts like the victim for everything that happens while continuing to ruin his relationships (I've never watched it so sorry if I might be saying shit lol 😭). I even know that there is a moment where he almost takes advantage of an underage girl, and while I do believe in change and growth, there are things that have limits for me ofc

There's likeable and then there's sympathetic and/or relatable.

Bojack Horseman as a character is relatable to a lot of folks but there has certainly been a crossroads when it comes to people who relate to him excusing his behaviour because x, y or z happened to him and completely missing the point of Todd blowing up on him and then there's people who still relate to him but feel he needs to be held accountable for his actions in order to improve himself.

And they're absolutely correct. A main reason why Bojack failed to improve is because he was stuck in an endless cycle of victimisation and feeling like he was not responsible for his actions for whatever reason. Namely the abuse he suffered at the hands of his parents. Only he's not that child anymore. He's an adult and he's very much responsible for his actions.

Like I will openly admit that I was an utter asshole to people online years ago because I didn't have a very nice home life and I was dealing with undiagnosed autism and mental health issues. I felt powerless and being a confrontational prick online gave me power. Bojack certainly works in a similar manner. His celebrity status gives him the power to act out in ways he never could as a child and whatever regret he feels is purely a sense of apprehension that his celebrity status and the power/respect it grants will be taken away from him. It's very selfish and it's why he didn't grow at all until his actions were exposed. And he certainly would've been doomed to keep things going had he not gone for that second interview. Especially as a college professor, given his history.

I can't speak for everybody who says they wish that second interview hadn't happened and Bojack may or may not have improved on his own but - from my perspective - he would've just used his newfound confidence and power as an 'advocate' for addiction to harm others, especially indirectly. The indirectness already happens with audience members of the show who feel Bojack justifies their problematic behaviour.

And this is something you have to be especially wary of if you wish to pursue this kind of topic: your character being used to validate the negative behaviour of others. Bojack's writers did a great job of making it clear that - while sympathetic - Bojack needed to be held accountable for his actions and needed to improve. People can view that as a negative thing all they want but they are not the kind of people the writers wanted the approval of anyway and they're not really worthy of anybody else's approval either imho.

And we also have to recognise that change doesn't automatically come with forgiveness either. Going back to Bojack again, I feel Herb would've absolutely entertained having a friendship with him once more if Bojack had accepted he was not entitled to forgiveness. It's just the kind of character Herb is. Charlotte, on the other hand, would've been 110% right to have Bojack tossed in jail as a mother. It all depends on the character and the nature of the deed. Like you've already pointed out, there are limitations. And it's also why Vicious will never have access to Hope or Adamant again. - RJ

[youruinedmylifebynotbeingreal]

Thinking about my post about how Corvus gets progressively touchier with Soren throughout Arc 2. But I’m mostly thinking about how most of that development happens post s5/mushroom forest.

In season 4 Soren initiates almost all touching. I think Corvus elbows him in the side once, but that doesn’t really count because it’s more Corvus being like “dude shut up.”

In season 5 episode 1, Corvus spends a gratuitous amount of time helping Soren up from almost falling. With both hands. All over Soren’s arm.

Then Corvus doesn’t initiate a touch again until the mushroom forest. Partially because they’re separated. But I want to argue that it’s also because he’s still in denial about his feelings and therefore not ready to initiate such things unless appropriate for the situation (like helping Soren up).

I genuinely think almost dying in the Great Bookery and spending time apart gave Corvus so much clarity. I want to know so badly what happened during those two years we don’t see. Like, is this the first time they’ve been separated indefinitely? Since things were pretty calm, did Soren or Corvus ever leave Ezran’s side? Each other’s side? Is Corvus without Soren for the first time in years and realizing how accustomed he’d grown to Soren’s little idiosyncrasies? Realizing how much he misses them, misses Soren?

Slightly off topic but I love this idea partially because it can feed into Jelly and I’s headcanons that these two won’t shut up about things reminding them of each other while split up. I want them to annoy everyone around them so badly. Just imagine each of them turning to the side to make a comment to the other and just going “what, where is he?”

Anyway. I digress.

And I know we’ve talked about it SO MUCH. We all know the Jesse quotes. We all live by the Jesse quotes. But Corvus really does accept his feelings for Soren by/in 6x02. Soren initiates touches for the first half of the episode. Corvus even tries to move Soren off of him to focus on his job. But after Soren stops and helps Corvus by carrying him/catching him/and touching his butt what who said that, Corvus sees Soren’s open shoulder and just goes “it’s free real estate.”

I think there’s something to be analyzed in how Corvus gives Soren so. many. soft. stares. throughout the mushroom forest, but doesn’t touch him until Soren helps Corvus. Soren, the man known for helping everyone around him. For him to stop and help Corvus, to take care of him, breaks something wide open in Corvus.

I think it could go back to Corvus always letting himself feel something towards Soren when Soren shows weakness. And when he sees Soren’s reaction to Corvus’s own weakness? He isn’t just stumbling over his feet, he’s tumbling head over heels for Soren.

He touches Soren’s shoulder at least twice in scenes following Soren carrying him - something he hasn’t done before. Then he hugs Soren back.

And when Soren hugs him, you can see Corvus’s shock and practically watch all of these walls he’s been building around his feelings tumbling down as he hugs Soren back.

This isn’t even bringing season 7 into it, where Corvus is touchier than ever. In a majority of their scenes they are either touching or next to each other. And Corvus initiates more touches than ever.

All this to say: I believe that Corvus initially fell for Soren when Soren was at his most vulnerable. And Corvus accepts his feelings for Soren when Corvus is at his most vulnerable.

[onlyangel4]

held. cody rhodes. part two.

cody rhodes x chronically ill!reader

synopsis: chronic illness teaches you how to disappear, quietly, politely, without complaint. but when a painful fall at a crowded bar leaves you stranded, it’s cody rhodes who stops. not because of fame. not out of obligation. because he noticed. and he stayed.

faceclaim: dakota johnson

author's note: in this the reader suffers from elhers danlos syndrome, i have elhers danlos so i find it easier to write but if you have a different chronic pain condition please do imagine it as that. for storyline purposes cody didn't have a match.

part one

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

the café he picked wasn’t far from your hotel. small, tucked between a used bookstore and a boutique guitar shop, with foggy windows and only one person working the counter.

no fan mobs. no cameras.

just two chairs in the back by a chipped brick wall.

you spotted him before he saw you, sitting with one leg crossed over the other, a black hoodie pulled up halfway, baseball cap tugged low. casual. comfortable. but his knee bounced like he wasn’t sure what to expect.

you hesitated at the door. it felt ridiculous, how nervous you were. like this was a date. like it mattered.

(like it wasn’t the first time someone had really looked at you and stayed.)

then he saw you and stood instantly.

"hey", he said, smile already soft.

"hi", you breathed.

the hug wasn’t planned, but it happened anyway. he pulled you in gently, careful of your shoulder, his arms warm and solid and too real for the way your stomach flipped.

"you okay?" he asked as he pulled back, his eyes scanning your face like it held answers.

you nodded. "bruised, mostly."

"you wear it well", he said, grinning.

you sat across from him, heart thudding louder than it should have. there was a drink waiting for you already, hot tea, perfectly steeped.

you blinked. "how’d you know?"

"i asked your friend on Instagram", he said, completely unapologetic. "bribed her with tickets."

you laughed, half surprise, half amusement. "that’s cheating."

"absolutely", he said, sipping his coffee. "zero shame."

there was a pause. comfortable, but full.

and then you were brave and broke it.

"i was on twitter earlier, people think we’re a thing", you said quietly.

he looked at you for a long beat. "do you want us to be a thing?"

your breath caught.

you didn’t answer. not yet.

instead, you looked down at your tea, fingers curling around the warmth.

"i didn’t think you’d actually text", you admitted.

"why not?"

"because people usually don’t."

"i’m not people."

that line, said so simply, lodged itself somewhere deep in your chest.

the moment hovered. still light. but no longer weightless.

he leaned forward a little, elbows on the table.

"i know you didn’t ask for all this attention. i just wanted to check in. to make sure you were still you under all the noise."

you looked up at him. really looked.

and there he was, not the guy from the posters or the ring or the viral photos.

just him.

"i am", you said. "still me."

he smiled, and you thought:

god, i hope this isn’t just kindness.

because something about the way he looked at you made it feel like it wasn’t.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

wrestlingupdates posted a story

written: the girl cody was with last night was spotted out in vegas this morning. sources state she was seen going into a coffee shop to meet cody

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

the café emptied out slowly, but neither of you moved.

outside, the light had shifted, golden, low. late afternoon creeping toward evening. the kind of hour that always felt like an ending.

he glanced at his watch. then at you. "i’ve gotta be at the airport in a couple hours."

you nodded like you hadn’t already known that.

of course he did. he was cody rhodes, wrestlemania main-eventer, weekly flyer, human brand. you didn’t know where he was headed next, but you were pretty sure it involved pyrotechnics.

still, it felt different to hear it out loud. it made everything feel smaller. less permanent.

"don’t feel like you have to say you’ll keep in touch", you said quietly, fingers tracing the edge of your mug. "i’ve done the part where people mean well. i don’t need..."

"i’m not people", he said again, soft but certain.

you looked up. met his eyes. he wasn’t smiling now.

"i’m not saying anything i don’t mean", he added.

something in your chest ached, hopeful and guarded at the same time.

"i just" you hesitated. "i don’t really date. i don’t do casual. and i'm not great at chasing people who are half-here."

he didn’t flinch. just nodded slowly, like he was weighing that truth with care.

"then let’s not be casual", he said. "let’s be intentional. even if it’s weird. even if it’s long-distance. even if we’re figuring it out in fragments."

you blinked. "you make that sound so easy."

he grinned. "i'm a wrestler. my whole job is making hard things look easy."

you huffed out a laugh. "that was a terrible line."

"i know", he said proudly.

the silence after that was warm, but stretching, like something was about to end, or change. he reached for his wallet, then paused.

"can i get a photo with you?", he asked.

you tilted your head. "why?"

"because if i don’t, the internet’s going to start ai generating couple pictures, and they’ll be terrifying."

You laughed, then leaned in.

he pulled out his phone, snapped a quick one. then, at the last second, turned and kissed your cheek before the shutter clicked again.

the camera caught the moment, blurry, close, real.

you didn’t even know he posted it until hours later, on his instagram story:

americannightmarecody posted a story

written: great company

and just like that, the rumour mill started again.

but you didn’t care.

because when he said he’d call you when he landed,

he meant it.

and you already knew you’d answer.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

you never set rules. you never defined it.

but somehow, the distance didn’t make it disappear.

he called you the night he landed in chicago. the sound of his voice over the phone made your breath catch, warmer than you remembered, somehow.

he didn’t say much. just:

"tired. cold. thinking about you."

"sleep", you whispered.

"call you tomorrow."

and he did.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

some nights, it was only a text.

Cody [1:14 AM]:

full arena tonight. my ribs hate me. you’d hate this hotel mattress more.

You [1:15 AM]:

i believe in you. you will survive that mattress

he sent a selfie the next morning, outside the arena, hoddie pulled up, smiling like a jester. you screenshotted it before you could think twice.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

other nights, you facetimed.

once, he was backstage in his gear, stretching on a crate while crew members yelled in the background.

you were in bed, oversized hoodie, your heating pad glowing beside you.

"i look like a lump", you muttered.

"you look like someone i'd rather be next to than in this sweaty locker room."

you tried not to let it mean too much.

(it did anyway.)

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

the first time you cried on the phone, it wasn’t about him.

it was your body, breaking down, again. a flare-up that had been building for days. the dull ache behind your eyes had bloomed into a full-body fire, every joint screaming in its own rhythm. your fingers had gone stiff, curled into reluctant claws, and your back had locked up so badly you couldn’t sit or lie down without something giving way.

it felt like you were shrinking inside yourself, like your own skin didn’t know how to hold you anymore. you felt ancient and helpless and impossibly tired.

you didn’t want to call. you stared at his contact for five whole minutes, debating whether the pain was real enough, bad enough, worthy enough to warrant his attention.

it wasn’t about him.

but it was about the fear that he’d hear you like this and disappear.

still, your hands hurt too much to text. so you called.

he answered on the second ring.

"hey", he said, voice quiet, softer than usual, like he could hear the hesitation before you even spoke.

you tried to sound normal. you failed.

"my hands", you swallowed. "they’re bad today. i can’t even my back’s gone too. i feel like i’m ninety."

there was a silence on the line. not the uncomfortable kind, just space. room to exist.

then:

"where are you right now?" he asked.

"couch."

"you’re okay. you’re okay", he said, like a mantra. "can you breathe for me?"

you did. shaky, shallow breaths at first. then deeper. then steadier.

"i didn’t want to ruin your night", you whispered eventually, voice breaking under the weight of it.

"you didn't ruin anything" he said. "you’re not a problem. you’re not a burden. you’re a human being. call me, even when you think i won’t pick up."

your eyes blurred again.

he didn’t fill the silence after that. He just stayed on the line, breathing with you. quiet, solid, present.

and when you finally started to fall asleep, phone still clutched in your good hand, he was still there, not saying anything, but not leaving either.

he picked up every time after that.

even when you didn’t say anything at all.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

he sent merch to your apartment with a note that just said,

"so you stop stealing my jacket."

you wore the hoodie on a grocery run and someone recognized it.

later, you found a fan instagram with a blurry photo.

wrestlingnews posted a story

written: pretty sure cody’s mystery girl just picked up oat milk in la

you sent him the link.

you: do i need a disguise now

cody: yes

cody: but don’t cover your face. i like that part.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

you didn’t talk every day. but it always picked up like you had.

the thread between you never went slack. it stretched across time zones, bruises, cities, and nights when you couldn’t sleep. it wove itself into your days, a comfort, a maybe, a presence that felt less and less like a crush and more like gravity.

somewhere between month three and four, you realised:

you were in something.

you just didn’t know if you were in it alone.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

the arena in austin buzzed like a living thing, loud even from the back halls, the walls humming with the low rumble of fans, the thud of music, the electric air of something about to happen.

you held your pass tight in your palm, your other hand clenched around the handle of your bag like it might float away if you let go. you hadn’t told him you were coming. not when you booked the flight. not when your friend from production pulled a string for a backstage pass. not even when you landed that morning and felt your nerves crawl all the way to your throat.

you didn’t want to make it a big thing.

you just wanted to see him.

you waited until after his match, until the shouting gave way to music, then to static, then to nothing but footsteps and radio calls. you stood tucked into a hallway near the locker rooms, trying to stay out of sight, your heart beating like it was trying to outrun you.

then you saw him.

hair damp, gear still on, his jacket slung over one shoulder. He was talking to someone, laughing a little, but distracted, like his brain was already somewhere else. maybe already on the flight out. maybe already out of reach.

you almost turned around.

but then he looked up.

and everything stopped.

he blinked like he wasn’t sure he was really seeing you, like his brain was taking a second to catch up to his eyes.

"you’re", he started, his voice catching. "you’re here?"

you nodded. "i figured i owed you a surprise."

for a moment, he didn’t move.

then he was in front of you, fast, like something finally snapped loose and his arms were around you, tight and warm and solid, lifting you slightly off the ground like he couldn’t help it.

you laughed into his neck. "you’re sweaty."

"you’re real", he murmured. "that’s more important."

he set you down gently, but didn’t let go.

"tell me you’re not just passing through", he said, breath still shallow. "tell me i don’t have to watch you walk away in fifteen minutes."

you shook your head, smiling. "couple days. i figured we deserved something."

his hand cupped your cheek before you could say anything else. thumb brushing your skin, eyes searching yours like he was waiting for you to change your mind.

you didn’t.

you leaned in first.

the kiss wasn’t dramatic. it wasn’t fireworks or perfect timing or anything that would look good on a big screen.

it was slow.

honest.

like something built, not rushed.

when you pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.

"so..." you said softly, "does this mean we’re official now?"

he smiled, wide and a little dazed. "we were official the second i saw you in that hallway."

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

americannightmarecody

liked by samizayn, juceyucey, y/ninsta and 729,384 others

tagged: y/ninsta

americannightmarecody: you never fail to amaze me

view all 23,485 comments

y/ninsta: i love you so much

americannightmarecody: that's my girl

user5: she’s so soft and comfy coded I’m gonna cry

user6: chronic illness girlies winning again

user7: she looks like she makes playlists and remembers everyone's drink order

user8: i’m obsessed. i’m emotionally attached. i’m in this relationship too now, thanks.

[antispopausandstuff]

thoughts on this post?

i mean, i agree that adora's protectiveness was a result of her trauma.

but "catra as the protector, adora's light in shining armor"? really? 💀

even in the final season, adora had to constantly protect catra from the CONSEQUENCES OF HER OWN ACTIONS and defend her in front of the princesses. while all catra did was whine about adora not paying enough attention to her and abandoning adora when she needed love and support.

also do you agree that catra is masc/butch? because i always saw her as femme. maybe not the pink, bubbly kind but more of a dark femme vibe. wearing a suit ONCE does not make her butch 😭

.

should go without saying, y'all, but don't harass this person if you happen to know who they are, please and thanks!

to start, this is a side tangent, but Adora does not have a martyr complex, but an Atlas complex. similar origins, but different results.

the martyr complex is described as: "a psychological pattern where individuals repeatedly prioritize the needs of others above their own, often to their detriment, while simultaneously expecting recognition or praise for their sacrifices".

the Atlas complex is described as: "a psychological concept describing a feeling of having to carry the weight of the world on one's shoulders, often stemming from childhood experiences of taking on responsibility".

obviously, Adora does not suffer from martyrdom.

anyway, moving on!

while it's ironic this person is talking about mischaracterization of Catra and Adora, when they clearly are doing the same thing, it's not the first time and it definitely won't be the last.

however, i think this is the first time i've seen an SPOP fan be actively annoyed that Catra is more or less baby-ified. first time for everything, i guess.

first off, one should not be solely dependent on another to be able to take proper care of themselves, physically and mentally. it's extremely unhealthy, isolating, and counterproductive. so, right off the bat, OP is already putting them in a shipping dynamic lens while simultaneously being annoyed at others for doing so just because it's not how they do it. at least, that's what i'm seeing.

second off, Catra hates being protected? not really. the only reason Catra would hate that is if Adora wasn't in the position she wants her to be, i.e, in the Horde as a Force Captain.

it's only when she's on her own, when Adora leaves, that Catra actively goes for independence. not because there was no chance otherwise, but because Adora isn't her doll anymore and she has to pick up the slack. Catra becoming a Force Captain instead was incredibly forced and to justify further drama.

basically, if Adora is on her side, Catra is all for being protected. if not, then that's when she's angry and throwing accusations.

third off, yeah, the knight in shining armor comment is laughable. for four seasons ( and beyond ), we've seen Catra go full sadist on Adora. dragging, shoving, mauling, mocking, degrading, and overall just being a complete piece of shit to Adora for *checks notes* leaving an abusive fascist military and asking her to come with.

and if that's not enough, she actively shits on Adora to other characters, too. so, even if fans wanna argue it's purely for battle ( like that makes it any better ), that's straight up not true.

even in s5, this is a problem, because Catra's unnecessarily distant and callous with Adora ( and Scorpia, but nobody cares about that, i guess ), but she's never properly called out for it. it's just Adora being sensitive and unrealistic, even though she literally almost died lol!

Catra protecting the BFS from Melog was weird, forced, and insulting, since she kept just being a dick to the people who saved her life, but whatever. sure. that's one moment, though.

as for the Failsafe, that was barely even protecting. Catra's been watching Shadow Weaver, yet doesn't say anything to Adora until she's about to get in. totally doesn't look like a show-off case. and, up until that point, Adora is the one comforting and reassuring her.

when it's not possible to throw Shadow Weaver into the fire, Catra suddenly doesn't have any other alternative solutions. so much for her being the "smartest" of the BFS. it doesn't even cross her mind to try it out herself. probably wouldn't have worked, but it would at least show that Catra cared enough to try.

otherwise, this "knight in shining armor" nonsense doesn't apply anywhere else. Adora is the one constantly trying to make Catra feel better, safer, and away from anything that could harm her. she's protecting her from the Princesses, when they have every single right to throw her ass into a fighting ring, she's comforting Catra when she gets nausea from Glimmer's teleporting, she's reasoning with Catra that all they have is Shadow Weaver's plan, etc., etc., etc.

it's Adora catering to Catra at almost every single turn, when Catra should be bending over backwards at the fact she's been given an undeserving second chance.

( btw, it annoys me that Catra suddenly has an issue with water and teleportation in s5 to make her more "cat-like" // baby-ified. )

like, she is nowhere near the protector the fandom thinks she is, let alone one at all.

and, finally, i didn't think too heavily on it, buuut...

she does have a similar "style" to Catwoman. sleek, form-fitting clothing with cleavage and other exposure ( like the thigh highs? i think that's what they are? ). if people consider Catwoman feminine, which she is, then, yeah, Catra is, too.

which is funny, 'cause she ( and the show ) bashes on femininity for no reason other than just because.

i personally don't hc Adora as masc // butch and more of an open wardrobe kinda person, and i don't know where OP is getting that the fandom doesn't largely view her as the feminine one, anyway? like, there's exceptions, obviously, but the fandom is obsessed with Adora being in that white dress.

anyway, yes, someone wearing a suit once doesn't automatically make them butch, just like someone wearing a dress once doesn't automatically make them femme.

( lol at the "inherent nurturing and protectiveness" comment )

[simpy-simpers]

Too small on a stage not meant for them.

Day 5!!! Prompt - Five

Technically there's six but the twins count for Golden... so 5 animatronics?

Not my best vision for a piece and definitely not my best execution, but I'm a week behind (oops! Life hits hard what can I say)

Not my best work but we continue!! Maybe I'll redraw it someday, wasn't feeling too hot with the background and didn't really enjoy drawing the characters too much, but it was decent overall haha.

Gahhh lore lore lore below, lots of text you may not want to read

(Maybe not so) Miniature lore time!

TW!!! Mentions of CHILD DEATH.

So I changed things around a bit to see what I like. Andrew IS in this AU (a character from the stitchwraith(did I spell that right?) which clued us into how Golden Freddy functions) and he's the twin brother of Cassidy. He takes the form of the vengeful spirit while Cassidy will resemble more of Charlie's role (sorta forgiving, protector, but not giver of life, that stays with the puppet.) Andrew and Cassidy were killed within moments of each other, still deciding how (debating on going with the springlock theory or not).

Anyway, Gabriel takes the spot as the oldest of the group, around 14. Jeremy is 8, Fritz 7, and Susie 5. Andrew and Cassidy hang around 12-ish.

A lot of their story is driven by Andrew, Cassidy, and Gabriel. (Bear trio yay!) They try to make plans, finding ways to free themselves, and 'get to heaven', but nothing truly works. They try killing night guards to see if their murderer is one, but they can't tell who it is (due to the spring bonnie suit), and all it results in is a bunch of children with blood on their hands. The youngest 3 truly don't understand. All they do is follow the orders from the "big kids". Blah blah blah story details, there's a lot of dialogue of them just talking. I mean, it's all they can do. Sometimes Gabriel will figure out one of the TVs and manage to turn on cartoons for them to watch, and they've even managed hide and seek a couple times.

blah blah blah more more more

Anyway they find CC's soul in the Fredbear plush. Don't know if I brought something like this up before, because I may have accidentally lied, but this was a detail I put in. CC actually dies during the bite of 83' with the plushy in his arms, and paired with the agony infused into it during FNAF 4, he latches onto it instead of onto Fredbear. Add in his reality altering abilities (as proved by the survival logbook text being altered and blah blah blah, watch God Victim theory, it has some points I use here). As I said, they find the plush with CC's soul. (His name is Eli in this universe, named after Elizabeth because he was born post Elizabeth's death. Times are changed around a LOT) They talk to CC, he's sobbing like 24/7, somehow they come to the conclusion about the happiest day thing, and they send Cassidy in (she wanted to) somehow??? Anyway that's how fnaf world ends up happening. Whole storyline everything blah blah blah, achieves happiest day (different than in the canon game but yk).

Once they learn happiest day they manage to use it(?) on everyone, not exactly the most peak storytelling, I know, but I'm working around it. I still need to actually read the stitchwraith (can't spell wahhh)

And they find heaven.

Most of them.

Andrew stays. He wants revenge. He needs someone to suffer for their actions. And Cassidy can't leave until he does. "Once we find him." He says, "Once he's suffered."

He didn't truly know how long that would take.

blah blah blah blah blah. omg ucn. Yeah that's Andrew. He finds a way to separate himself and Cassidy.

He's alone. "Not held back anymore."

UCN goes on woop woop.

uhmmmmmm

ikr peak storytelling.

then??? idk?? I'll make choices when they make more sense. A little tired lmbo. I'll start catching up this time I promiseeeeeeee. Gonna do smaller pieces to stop eating up time. This piece was SUCH a time eater!!! Should not have taken that long but I've been working on it for like 3 days (70% of that time was just me on my phone but we do not talk about that)

Anyway, sleep well, take my subpar effort, and have a good night! Stay simpin yall

[kylermalloy]

Sometimes I don’t think people understand the point of deterministic time travel stories.

(For the purposes of this post, a deterministic universe refers to a story in which there is only one timeline. Even if time travel exists, the characters cannot go back and change things, so to speak. In a deterministic universe, they would’ve always time-traveled, so the “changes” they attempted were already there, and nothing was altered. Think Interstellar, in which Cooper sends himself to NASA from the future.

By contrast, a branching timeline story would allow changes. Traveling through time assumes a new set of events and/or people who were not present the “first time around,” and so events can be altered, to the point of erasing established history. Think The Butterfly Effect, in which changing the smallest thing balloons out into an entire alternate reality.)

Whenever I hear people discuss a deterministic model of time travel, they seem to be under the impression that those characters are trapped by some nebulous fate or destiny, and that’s why things can’t change. The time-travel mode chosen by the author for the story has locked them into this particular set of events, they’ll posit, and no matter what the characters do, they are literally unable change it.

I couldn’t disagree more!

A deterministic timeline is a trap, to be sure—to us, the audience. The characters are free to make whatever choices they want.

I started thinking about this because of Attack on Titan, how Eren sees a glimpse of himself causing the rumbling from his father’s memories.

So many analyses will claim that’s why Eren started the rumbling later in the story—that from the moment he saw the future, he was somehow locked into that particular course of action. He was destined to kill millions whether he wanted to or not.

But…no. Eren didn’t cause the rumbling because he saw himself do it in the future. He’s not the audience looking in on his own story (not in that way, at least). He isn’t figuring out that there is only one timeline, or that he was fated to cause so much death. He doesn’t even know that he’s in a time loop where everything happens the same way every time!

No! Eren isn’t thinking about time travel physics—which are made-up anyway. Eren isn’t thinking Well I HAVE to do it, since I saw it in Dad’s memories. (Well, he probably does think that. As an excuse.)

Eren makes the choice to start the rumbling because that’s the choice he will always make regardless. That is who he is as a person. It’s a tragic flaw. It’s his character.

I’ve also been thinking about this because of Netflix’s Dark—a time-travel show I heartily recommend. It too has a single timeline, in which many characters meet older—and then younger—versions of themselves, and they pass along information bootstrap-paradox style.

The first time I watched the show, I had this passing thought—how did these characters remember exactly what their older selves said to them, so they could replicate the conversation when they were the older self?

It was a silly question, and the more I watched the show, the more I came to understand: The show is not about ~replicating~ or ~preserving~ events in the timeline. They’re not sacred, as some time-travel stories would have you believe. No, the single timeline never changes because the characters don’t change.

When Jonas, the protagonist of Dark, meets his older self, he can’t believe the shell of a man he’s become. He can’t believe himself capable of saying the things he’s saying, or doing the things he does. He’s not cataloguing the information passed to him so he can one day say it back to his younger self—that’s stupid.

I was caught in a fallacy of bootstrap paradox—how did they know what to say? Where’d those words come from? Well, where all words come from.

Older Jonas is speaking from his heart. He too had believed fervently that he would never become the person he is—but the day has arrived, and now he’s on the other side of the door. He’s saying the words while his younger self is frozen in disbelief. He’s not replicating a conversation he remembers—the words he says are the words he would say regardless. That’s what he’s always said, because that’s who he is.

This little quandary serves as a microcosm for explaining everything about deterministic time-travel. Both Eren and Jonas see themselves in the future doing horrible things. Becoming a version of themselves they would never dream of being.

As much as they tell themselves that’s not me, I would never do that, and even vow to find a way to prevent that future, they both fail in that endeavor. They both experience profound hopelessness and loss, and they eventually give in to their desires and their hopelessness and become the worst, murderous versions of themselves.

And they both, funnily enough, tell themselves and others that it was just fate. It was how things had to be. Inevitable.

This is a lie.

Eren always had the capacity for terrible violence. Jonas was always capable of manipulation and single-minded ruthlessness. Those are their character flaws. The sneak peeks they received of their futures weren’t showing them what they had to do. They made those choices of their own free will. As much as they fought against what they would become, as much as they protested that isn’t me, it was them. And they become those monsters anyway.

It’s only inevitable in the way a tragedy is inevitable.

Tragedies come about because of characters’ choices and flaws—not because the author or the timeline or fate is puppeteering them into these horrible ends. Romeo and Juliet aren’t doomed to die because the opening narration tells us they do. They’re doomed to die because they’re young and impulsive and desperate to escape the cycle of hatred their families perpetuate. It’s a tragedy because they’re scared teenagers and because the feud that drove them together, apart, and then to death was pointless.

It wasn’t inevitable. At any point, they could’ve put down the loaded gun (narratively speaking) and walked away. Romeo didn’t drink the poison because he heard the opening lines about him taking his life. Juliet didn’t watch the rest of the play and go alas, I have no choice, ‘twas foretold. O happy dagger! No! They both made those choices because of who they are as characters and the circumstances they were in.

But because we’re the audience, and we’ve been told the ending, we feel trapped in it. We’re the ones being granted a sneak peek into the future. We watch the story unfold with growing horror, because there are so many outs!

Romeo could have not killed Tybalt. Juliet could have entrusted her letter to a faster rider. They could have just not gotten married after eighteen hours. They could have spilled the secret and asked for help. This entire tragedy seems so preventable—but we’re trapped watching it happen regardless.

So when Eren says he has no choice, he’s not saying that because his vision of the future locked him into that course of action. Eren chooses to start the rumbling because that’s what Eren would do. He tells us himself—his disappointment in the outside world made him want to flatten everything and start anew.

Jonas too chooses to become the worst version of himself because he believes only he can make the world right. He has to—he feels responsible, like he doesn’t have any other choice. He wants to destroy the timeline and his family. He wants to tear it all down, because he can’t let go of the people he loved and lost.

The future does not dictate Eren’s and Jonas’s actions. Eren’s and Jonas’s characters dictate the future.

Maybe seeing themselves do it in the future helped them give permission to themselves to start something so unthinkable—but make no mistake. It was always just them.

(And I don’t say this as a condemnation of either character. We have all had those impulses. Sometimes we just want to tear it all down.)

But getting that glimpse into the future doesn’t absolve them of their choices, either. These two always had another choice. They just chose causing the apocalypse every single time.

(Well, that’s not completely true. Dark and Attack on Titan have different endings—Jonas receives new information that changes his perspective on everything. He learns the truth about the time knot, and that growth and recognition is enough to help him finally make a different choice—one that actually ends the loop. Eren could have made a different choice, too. He just doesn’t.)

Dark sums it up better than I ever could: “Man can do what he wills, but he cannot will what he wills.” In other words: You can do whatever you want, but you cannot make yourself want to do something else. Time travel only highlights that struggle for us.

[carpesabrina]

She smiled as he talked about his own childhood video, just confirming what she already knew. He didn’t care what anyone thought about it, he liked it and it was part of him. “I do like it. I thought it was a cute video of you,” she told him. She had seen it before they became official. He had told her about it when hey were just talking, and she jumped at the first chance to go watch it. She nodded in agreement. “I don’t care what anyone says about my work, especially my more recent stuff. My old Disney albums? I don’t claim any of that.” She joked. She never talked about her first three albums, and she stopped singing the songs off of it. But she had made it clear that she didn’t claim any of them. But it was mainly because she had no creative decisions when it came those. Everything had to be confirmed by the record label she had at that time. But now, she had more choices and made sure to use her voice for what she wanted things to be with her newer work. She knew some of her team didn’t approve of it, like when she brought up the most recent album cover idea she had. But she didn’t listen to them and did it anyway. She knew Max pulling her hair for a picture would get everyone and their mother’s talking about it and keep her name out there. “No pushovers in our family. They’ll be able to say no when they need to, and fight when someone won’t listen to them.” She said softly, a smile curling along her features. “Me either. It’s gonna feel so much more real this time than what I remember from Vegas. Everyone celebrating our love with us and partying it up.” She teased the partying. But knowing her family, that’s exactly what will end up happening. 

She turned her head to look up at him as he spoke. Her brow arching at him. “I do not have more than 400 friends, Maxwell.” She laughed. She knew she had more friends than he did, she was definitely more of the social butterfly than him. But a lot of them were more acquaintances than anything else. She wanted her close friends and family there. A long with some of the people she worked with and admired. But she didn’t want to invite every single person that she knew. “But it will be more than big enough.” She confirmed, squeezing his hand. As he said that he loved it, she thought she almost had him convinced to have the wedding in New York, and then he brought up Pennsylvania. She nodded in agreement, “we can look there too.” And then she turned to face the director as she started talking again. “We have the finest culinary here. Exquisite seasonal menus. Prior to your wedding day, we’d invite you to sample and pick out your menu for your big day.” She stated as she walked through the room. “And then we do have dressing rooms for you to get ready in.” She said and then brought them back out to the hall, she opened up a different door and it was a room with seating, a mirror, and other things. “They all pretty much look like this. We strive to make every event momentous, so we’ll work with you to to design each detail to your liking. From the meal, drinks, to decorations. If you need to move things around or take stuff out of the ceremony room that you don’t like.” She told the couple. She told them to call when they want to book with them before she walked them back to the front entry. Sabrina said goodbye and then turned to face Max. “I do like it. But I also don’t want to just pick the first one we look at. It’s like buying a house, gotta look at all the possibilities. There could be a more beautiful one out there.” She told him as she walked back out to the car. Once they were in, she put the second place into the GPS. “This place is called the Larkfield.” She said getting out of the car once they were there. She walked with him into the building, going to the front desk. “Hi, I’m Sabrina. Called earlier about a tour.” The lady nodded and stood up, shaking both of their hands. “I’m Kelly. Nice to meet you.” She said before moving around from he desk. It was all the same questions like earlier, if they wanted to look inside or outside. And When Sabrina said inside, they were brought to one of the ball rooms. "We have four ballrooms. Some are bigger than others. This is our biggest one. It fits up to 400, but can fit up to 475 if we take out the dance floor." Sabrina instantly shook her head, "no. We need a dance floor." She let out a laugh. She wasn't gonna have a wedding where they couldn't dance the night away with her friends and family. "Each ballroom comes with bridal suites for the bride and groom to get ready in, a long with an assistant to keep the day easy for you." Kelly stated as she motioned them to follow her. She took them through the other three ballrooms that got smaller each time they walked through the doors. One had more white to it, and then the third one had a citrus tree in it. When they got to the smallest one, she told the couple it only fit 100 people. "Oh, I'd much prefer one of the bigger ones." Even if they had 100 or less guest at the wedding, she liked the space everyone would have with it. It wouldn't feel like everyone was on top of each other. "Do they all have dance floors?" Sabrina asked. "No, just the first two that you saw. This one and the one with the citrus tree do not."

Max shrugged at her question but it was easy to answer. "Do I like it or want to scrub it? I like it and think I'm a cute little devil. Who knew those two cuties would hook up later in life and be planning a wedding. If anyone doesn't like it then they can suck my dick. I didn't do it for anyone but me and I still feel the same. It's what I think that matters. I mean love you and my family but if you didn't like it then it wouldn't matter because I do. I'm sure you feel the same about things you do that you like and people disagree with." Max never tried to shackle Sabrina on her creativity and that was probably one of the reasons they worked so well. Both were stubborn, sure of what they wanted and didn't like to be told what to do when it came to work. There were a few times she cared too much but she was getting out of that and Max liked to think he was a part of that. Helping her see that others opinions didn't matter and to be true to herself. "Same, my parents are dying for grandbabies to spoil." Nodding he looked at her. "Yes, kind but not pushovers. I'll teach them both how to fight and they'll kick those kids asses." He was sure their kids would be short, maybe not as short as Sab but short. He didn't mention his ADD because he didn't like to think about her. Hopefully her genes would cancel his out. "I can't wait to see you walking towards me for real this time." Sure Vegas felt real but this would truly be real. "All our family and friends, us all dressed up and committing ourselves to each other. Our only wedding, as it should be. For better or worse, in sickness or in health forever. " He didn't like to think about till death them part. No way was he leaving her alone and he didn't want to think about a life without her. He made that clear with his worry about the pregnancy that could have taken her from him. Max loved to drive but even more drive her around. She always looked happy and he knew she felt how much he loved her with the simpliest of things. She never took any of it for granted just like he didn't.

As they pulled into the venue, he was already falling in love with the place. He didn't want to just pick the first place they saw but it looked to have everything although he did have one concern. Sabrina had a lot of friends and he didn't know if it would fit them all or if she was going to be selective on who she invited. He leaned over whispering to her. "is that big enough? I don't plan to invite that many people but I know you have a lot of friends." Max was simple, family and a few friends, again not the most social guy but Sab had lots of friends. "I love it and think this could be it if it's big enough" It sounded like he was definitely thinking New York now so it quickly backtracked. "We still need to look in Pennsylvania for you just to be sure." He was glad the employees weren't making a big deal over them... okay her. He had accepted that she was the star of the family and that was fine by him. She never made him feel less than her and he was proud to be her man. "Do you like it?"

[diltonsstrangescience]