#giving me flashbacks to my very first job in high school and I was a janitor for a brokerage lmao

[sefynarose]

have spent the last 5 hours at work doing floral arrangements, basically interior designing? and also cleaning the entire office and making it look like no one works here and it’s just a show room

[yelenasdiary]

21 Questions || Attention to Detail

Pairing: FBI! Wanda Maximoff x Mafia Boss! Reader

Summary: Agent Maximoff has always been great at her job and reading people. After solving a rather difficult case with co-worker, Agent Romanoff, Wanda took a vacation to Greece, where she met Y/n, who was also taking a vacation from work. A little fun never hurt anybody, right?

Adult & Dark Themes | Smut | 18 + ONLY! | She/They pronouns | Language Warning | Mentions of Drinking | 4.7K | 

Top! Wanda, Bottom! Reader, Mommy Kink, Reader has a penis, protected sex, oral (both receiving), slight degradation.

Notes: Flashbacks and/or memories are italic & have “~” before and after.

AC: Just want to give a H U G E thank you to @daddynattt for helping me with this chapter, you can all thank her for Wanda giving you mind blowing (literally) head. 

21 Questions Masterlist

"Sorry about that" you smiled as you entered the meeting room and took a seat at the end of the table. You tried to keep your eyes from staring a little too long at the agent you thought was a high school teacher. "A-are you sure it's him?" you asked, looking at agent Romanoff. The red head nodded while she took in your body language, "we understand you were young when he went missing but we'd like to ask you a few questions. Anything you can remember about him can help the investigation" she explained. 

"Investigation?" you frowned, "he was murdered?" 

"Yes, we're sorry. We are still determining cause of death but from the skeletal remains, it was very clear he was murdered" Natasha replied in a soft but caring tone. 

"I'm sorry, skeletal? I haven't seen my father since I was 14, not a single word and now you're telling me he's dead and he's a skeleton" 

"We understand this is a difficult time right now and we're sorry that we don't have a lot of news to tell you. Once we know more, you will be the first to know" Wanda inserted herself. You looked at her for a brief moment and nodded, "well, if there anything I can to help. What can I tell you?" you asked, now looking between the two women. 

"We will try to make this as easy as possible" Natasha replied as she took out her note pad. You felt the burning of Wanda's stare, it was clear to you that she hadn't told her co-worker that she knew you. "Do you remember the last time you saw your father?" Natasha asked, her pen ready to dot down any words that would leave your lips. 

You took a deep breath in as you thought back to the last time you saw your father, not a pleasant memory but it was all that came to mind. "Uhm, I had just gotten home from school and he was arguing with somebody over the phone. I remember going straight to the kitchen to grab a snack. We had a personal chef at the time so I spent some time in kitchen waiting" you explained, your eyes dropped to the glass of water in front of you that Kate had kindly left. 

"Do you know who he was on the phone too or what the argument was about?" Wanda asked, leaning forward slightly. 

"It was always about money. He never really seemed to have time for me, or my mother for that matter. So I guess, growing up I learnt to ignore the arguing that came from his office but I always knew it was about money or business. I don't know if he was talking this person, but he said the name Arthur very aggressively before he hung up" 

"That's great, names are good. Uh, I'm sorry to bring this up but your mother, she passed away in a very short time before your father went missing. How was he dealing with that?" Agent Romanoff questioned as she finished writing a sentence on her note pad. Wanda noticed the way you slowly looked up at Natasha, slightly chewing on your bottom lip from the inside and how you shifted slightly in your seat. 

"I don't know" you replied, looking directly at Natasha. "He never showed any sort of grief from what I can remember" you added. Wanda saw how uncomfortable you seemed on the topic of your mother; you reached for your glass of water and took a sip as agent Romanoff took more notes on your answer. "Before your father went missing, he had some issues with Senator Benjamin Arthur and again, we understand you were young at the time but if there is anything you can remember about anybody hanging around the house or maybe you were approached by a stranger? Anything can help a lot" Natasha asked as she looked up at you. 

Your eyes looked between the agents once more before you shook your head, "I'm sorry, I don't remember anything. My father's business was exactly that, his business. I went to school, I came home, I did my homework and if he was having a good day, we'd go get pancakes or ice cream before dinner. He barely ever treated me like his child and when he did" you paused and let your eyes drop to a spot on the table in front of you. Silence filled the room for a moment as you gathered your thoughts, both agents trained to watch your body language and anything that might seem a little odd to them. "When he did, it was one of the best days I'd have in a while" you finally spoke, slowly looking up at the two women. 

"Thank you for your time, Y/n. We'll let you have some space but please, if there is anything that comes to mind about your father that may be helpful, here are our cards. Call us anytime" Natasha replied with a soft but warm smile as she handed you her card with her details on it, Wanda slid hers across to you before both agents stood them their seats. "I'll be sure to let you know, thank you for coming up. I'm sorry if I wasn't much help" you replied as you also stood from your seat, "Kate will escort you out" you added giving them a light smile before sending Kate a slight nod through the glass window.

You watched as the agents were led to the elevator before you made your way back to your office where Kate shortly ended, closing the door behind her. "Everything okay?" she asked, seeing the troubling look on your face as you downed a mouthful of whisky, almost slamming your glass on your desk. 

"They found him" you looked up at your best friend. 

"Are you sure?" Kate walked up to the two leather seats in front of your desk, making herself comfortable as you began to pour you both a glass, sliding it to her, nodding. "They're investigating" you muttered before downing your drink once more. 

"Shit" Kate gasps before she sips her drink, "are you okay?" she asked. 

"Can you lock up this evening? There's something I need to do, I need to talk to Pa, I need to tell him" You replied. Kate shook her head, "of course, anything you need I'm here"

With Kate's word, you gathered your things and gave her a hug before leaving. You dreaded telling your grandfather that his only son was finally found after 13 years, although you always suspected he knew that your father was either dead or never returning. As for you, you weren't sure how to feel. Part of you felt relief, closure even but another part of you felt anger, sadness. 

----

Wanda and Natasha returned to their office, both debriefing the crime scene and the notes Natasha took from your answers. New evidence and test results had come back in their absence, fingerprints from the set of keys belonged to the Senator, Benjamin Arthur and forensics were able to find the rest of your father's skull. 

Before going to pay to the now retired Senator, Benjamin, Natasha and Wanda spent most of the afternoon looking over the crime scene photos, evidence and taking a fresh, closer look at the old evidence and case file. 

"We have to question Sergei's father, Pavel. He was the last one to see Sergei alive" Natasha breaks the deep silence between the two. Wanda ran her fingers through her hair as she looked up at her co-worker and nodded. Her mind unable to shake you as she tried to process the shook of seeing you. "Yeah, I agree. Tomorrow we'll go see Benjamin" she replied, closing the case file in front of her. 

--Later That Evening—

Music from your playlist played softly in the background as you checked the roast dinner you were making, tossing the vegetables to ensure they were cooking all the way through. A soft knock at your door made you pause the current song, and placing the roast back in the oven, wiping your hands on your apron before answering the door. 

"Agent Maximoff, this is a surprise" you greeted the woman. 

"We need to talk" she replied, sternly. 

"You're just in time, dinner isn't too far off" you open your door wider for the agent to enter your home. She walked in slowly, the smell of your dinner welcoming her better than you had. "Can I get you a drink?" you asked, walking ahead of her and returning back to the kitchen. 

"I'm not here as friend" Wanda replied, watching you tidy up the island in front of you. "We have to talk about Gr-"

"No" you looked up at her and shook your head, "We'll talk about it over dinner. You owe me that much" you added, not breaking eye contact. A moment of silence was shared between the two of you before Wanda gave you a light nod, "okay. Dinner that is all"

"Just dinner" you turned on your heels, grabbing a clean glass from the cupboard, "A drink?" you asked. 

"Water will be fine, thank you" Wanda's eyes traveled around your kitchen, allowing herself to take in the way your home looked. If the situation were different, she would've complemented your taste in art and the beautiful red oak kitchen island that was littered with the mess of your cooking. She watched as you handed her a glass of water before returning your attention to the vegetables that were on the stove. 

"You can take your coat off if you'd like" you spoke, feeling her eyes watching you. 

"I'm fine" Wanda replied before taking a mouthful of water. You grabbed two plates and some cutlery before turning around to face the agent, you smiled softly. "Another ten minutes and it should be ready, I'll just set the table. Do you want a tour?" you asked. 

Wanda shook her head lightly, "I just came here to talk. The quicker we can do that, the quicker we can move forward"

"What is there to move forward from, tell me" You walked by her, placing the plates on the table. Wanda followed behind you, "you know exactly what I'm talking about" she replied as you pulled a chair out for her. 

"You'll have to refresh my mind, I just had some terrible news today, so things aren't exactly great" 

"So, it was terrible" Wanda raised a brow, pulling out the other chair and taking a seat.

"My father was found, dead and confirmed to have been murdered. I'm not exactly cheerful about it" 

"You had me fooled" Wanda looked up at you, her eyes followed you as you returned to the kitchen, turning off the oven and stove. "My father wasn't the best man so forgive me for not being overly hysterical about it" you looked across the room to her, "besides, your off duty, right? Let's not talk about my father. Would you like gravy?" you added. The woman nodded, brushing your comment off. 

Silence once again filled the room as you dished up the roaster dinner, kindly placing the food in the center of the table for you both to help yourselves before taking a seat across from Wanda. "It looks lovely, thank you" Wanda broke the silence, she was never raised to have bad table manners and not that she wanted to truly let you know but she hadn't eaten all day and the smell of the feed you made only made her more hungry, grateful that you forced her to stay for dinner. 

"You have a fancy role for a high school teacher" 

"How was I supposed to know that I'd come and see you? You were just a stranger in a bar that" she stopped herself some saying anything more.

"That what? Had sex with?" You finished her sentence, her eyes dropped to the plate of food in front of her, tossing a carrot back and forth with her fork. "I didn't mean it like that" she replied, "my co-worker, agent Romanoff, she can't know. Nobody can. I know we slept together before all of this, but they won't see it like that. I should've told my boss the moment I saw you that I shouldn't be working your father's case." 

"Then why didn't you?" you asked. Wanda slowly looked back up at you, unable to answer. "You think it about, don't you? That night, you and I" you lent back in your chair while Wanda sat in silence, "tell me it plays on your mind" you added. 

"I should go. I'm sorry" Wanda stood from her seat, you quickly did the same and followed the woman to the front door. "Don't go" you gently grabbed her arm, "it's okay" you added when she looked at you once more. She shook her head, "it's unprofessional" she replied softly. 

You couldn't help yourself, brushing a lock of her long brown hair gently behind her ear, "I think about it too" you said in an almost whisper, wanting nothing more than to feel your lips on her skin again. "We can't" she stepped back, her back up against your front door. You stepped closer to her, gently placing your hands on her hips, your eyes flickering to her plump lips. "I can't get you off my mind, the things we did, the way you were" you paused, leaning slightly forward until your lips connected with the naked skin of her neck. Without control, Wanda lifted her head up, giving you more access, letting out a soft moan as you kissed up to her jaw.

"Please, I need you" you whispered, kissing her cheek before pausing your movements to look at her lips, "nobody has to know, I promise" you added. Her lips never looked more kissable then right now, running her tongue over them as she brought her hands up to your face, cupping you gently. "Nobody" she repeated, you nodded, "not a soul" you assured her before crashing your lips onto hers. 

Wanda kissed you back with hunger, filling your mouth with her tongue while you lifted her up, allowing her to wrap her legs around your waist, never breaking the deep kiss as you carried her to your bedroom. 

"You're so sweet darling" Wanda smiled against your lips as you laid her gently on your bed before she flipped the two of you over, straddling your waist while looking down at you. "Do you always think you're in control?" she asked, chewing at her bottom lip. Her hands running down your clothed chest, smirking at you before she ripped your shirt open. You shook your head, "use your words, tell me. Do you always think you're in control?" she asked you once more as she began to unbutton her shirt, one by one. 

"No" you replied, watching the way her hands moved quickly from button to button. "Yes, what?" she frowned before pulling her work shirt off and throwing it to the floor then unclasping her bra. "No, mommy" you smirked when she looked at you once more. When she looked into your eyes, she completely forgot how unprofessional and wrong this was, but the memories of how she had you eating out of the palm of her hand in Greece were enough to keep the guilt from flushing in. 

Wanda smiled softly as she crawled off you and completely removed her pants along with her panties, throwing them both on top of her shirt before crawling back on top of you, undoing the belt from your waist. "Hands out" she looked up at you with a light smirk. She didn't need to ask twice; you placed your hands out in front of you ready for Wanda to use your belt to tie your wrists together. "Keep them above your head, can you do that for mommy?" she asked, placing your wrists above your head as you nodded, "yes mommy, just want to be your good girl" you replied while she hoovered above you. 

"Oh, baby, you're such a good girl for me" she kissed your lips softly, "mommy is going to use this pretty mouth of yours and you're going to keep those hands still, no touching. Do you understand?" She leant back, straddling your waist once more, waiting for your answer. 

"Just wanna please you mommy, I'll be good" you replied, completely breaking for her. Not even assumed to show this woman who you barely knew, a whole side of you that nobody else ever saw. 

"That's a good girl" Wanda smiled before moving up your body, her legs resting on either side of your face giving you the perfect view of her glistening pussy. Her warm scent made you crave her even more than before, you watched as she lowered herself on your lips, letting out a moan as you began to twirl your tongue around her clit. "That's right baby, show mommy how good you want to be for her, let mommy cum all over your tongue" her words were muffled as you continued to eat her out. 

Every now and then dipping your tongue into her hole just to hear her moan, to feel her grip on your hair tighten. "Mm, baby, you're going to make mommy cum, keep going!" she moaned before she began to ride your face, her free hand toying with her hardened nipples while her other hand stayed running through your hair for support. With every moan, Wanda moved faster, grinding against your tongue, pinching her nipples harder, gripping your hair tighter as her moans got louder. "F-fuck baby, I'm cumming!" she moaned once more before letting her orgasm take its cause. 

That didn't stop you, you continued to lap at her wet folds until she removed herself from your lips. "Somebody was hungry" she smirked before kissing your cum covered lips, cleaning herself off of them before biting your bottom lip. "Mommy, please, m' so hard" you looked at her. Your cock begging to be released from your boxers as your bulge had grown bigger by the second. 

"Awh, baby, is this all for me?" Wanda bit her bottom lip as she sat beside you, running her hand up your leg and brushing over your bulge. You nodded with need, "only you get me this hard" you admitted as you heard her unzip your flyer. "Since you were so good for mommy, how about I give you a little treat, mm? Mommy will make it all better" Wanda replied before helping herself to remove your pants and pulling your boxers down passed your knees, letting your cock spring free. 

You kept your hands above your head and watched as Wanda grabbed your length with one hand, a soft moan left your lips at her touch. She teasingly stroked you while looking up at you, your eyes closed as you grew harder at her touch. "Do you want mommy to suck you off? Wanna feel my mouth wrapped around your cock?" You couldn't stop the needy whimper from tumbling out of your mouth, nodding your head yes as you opened your eyes to see her making her way onto her knees in front of you. "Please mommy! I want your mouth" Wanda smirks at the neediness of your tone, she's got you right where she wants you. 

"Shh, mommy will take care of you, stay still and look pretty while I make you feel good" 

Your body instantly jerks as you feel her mouth wrap itself around your tip, your pre-cum causing Wanda to moan around you making you let out a moan as well. The feel of her warm mouth feels like heaven, it feels like nothing you have ever felt before, and you're scared that you may not last too long. 

"Fuck.. your mouth feels so good" she takes her time, teasing you as she softly sucks on your tip while looking up at you with hungry eyes. "Mommy please.." She smiles around you and slowly takes you deeper, moving her mouth lower while maintaining eye contact with you, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

"Oh God.. I'm not sure how much longer I can last" You are surprised at how well she can take you, you are not small by any means. Being 9 inches long and pretty girthy, you're shocked as she takes you deeper and deeper, desperate and needy moans coming out of your mouth as she takes all of you, her nose hitting your abdomen. The sounds of her gagging around your cock sends chills up your spine, and you're about to cum down her throat. 

"Fuck! Mommy.. I-I'm gonna cum" you feel her hands sliding up and down your bare thighs, encouraging you to let go into her mouth as she stays there with your cock shoved down her throat. You grab onto her head with tied together hands, moaning loudly as you keep her head in place as you release into her mouth, spurts of cum shooting down her throat. She rides out your orgasm, greedily swallowing everything you give her, the taste of your cum causing her to moan.

"Just as sweet as last time" Wanda looked up at you before crawling on top, straddling your waist, "and a little more than I remember, have you been having trouble baby?" she asks, giving you a moment to gather yourself. You nodded softly with embarrassment causing her to chuckle, "it's not funny" you groaned. 

"Since we last, you know" you paused for a moment as Wanda brushed your baby hairs from your face, "go on darling, tell me." She whispered, sending another shiver down your spine. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you, and it causes problems" you look at her, "problems only you can fix"

"Well, let's stop the chit chat and fix all those problems you've been having" Wanda smirked before pressing her lips against yours. A faint taste of your cum made you moan softly, remembering just moments ago how well the agent took you. Her hands reached to unbuckle your belt from your wrists, "protection?" she asked. You nodded and waited for your wrists to become free before opening your bedside drawer to grab a condom. 

Without hesitation, Wanda grabbed the wrapper from you and ripped it open with her teeth. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip while keeping eye contact with you as she so effortlessly rolled the condom onto your dick. "Why'd you lie?" you asked, out of curiosity, Wanda shook her head and hushed you with a hungry kiss, biting your bottom lip as she pulled away. 

Her lips kept you distracted while her hands worked on guiding you inside her, she moaned as you stretched her out, kissing you once more as she allowed her body to sink onto you until you bottomed out inside her. "I think about you" she whispered against your lips as you moaned softly at the slight moments over her hips. "I knew it" you smirked before you placed your hands on her hips, Wanda moaned once more as she sped up her actions, riding you just like she did in Greece. 

"F-fuck I've craved this!" she moaned, throwing her head back while her hands landed on top of yours, forcing you to make her ride you harder. "Go on baby, show me how you need it" she spoke, "just this once" she added. 

You felt like you were above the clouds, buried deep inside her like you'd been craving since you left her hotel room that afternoon. With a bit of force, you helped her grind harder against you, her moans made you believe you were going something good until she chuckled. "You're weak baby" she removed your hands, "I'll do it myself" she added before she began to bounce up and down on your length, you gasped at the way her pussy clenched around you, making it almost impossible to keep yourself from cumming too soon. 

"M-mommy, slow down! I'm not going to last" you moaned, your fists gripping the bedsheets until your knuckles went white. "Cum for me baby, I'm not done with yet! Cum with me!" Wanda moaned before you felt her pussy milk you for every last drop the condom caught. In the heat of the moment, you didn't care about anything but making sure her pleasure was dragged out, sitting up, you wrapped your arms around her and began to thrust your hips into her while your lips connected with her neck.

"Oh f-fuck!" she moaned, her nails scratching at your back, "keep going baby, don't you dare fucking stop!" she added while digging her nails into you harder. 

----

"You asked me why I lied" Wanda spoke softly as she pulled apart the small bread roll on her plate. You almost too distracted by her wearing one of your oversized tees as the two of you finally got around to the roast dinner you made hours ago. "Would you have still spoken to me that night if I told you I worked for the FBI?" she added, looking at you with her big green eyes that you now were able to really admire.

"Yes" you replied in a soft tone and a light nod. 

"You're lying, again" Wanda's eyes dropped to the roasted pork between the two of you. "Would you have spoken to me if I said that I noticed you days before I came up to you at the bar?" you asked her, your eyes not moving an inch as she slowly looked up at you. "I had a drink at the bar every night, came in two days before and had dinner. I remember the way your eyes looked in the shitty lighting, almost like they were the brightest thing in the room. I wanted to talk to you right then and there, but you looked so peaceful with your book, I didn't want to interrupt you. But when you came in that night and sat at the bar by yourself, I wasn't going to let another moment slide. So, yes, I would've still spoke to you if you had of been honest" you explained. 

A moment of silence was shared between you both, it was awkward or anything as such but you could tell Wanda was trying to keep her guard up and not allow herself to peel a layer of herself back for you. 

"Did you know green diamonds exist?" you asked, breaking the silence. Wanda shook her head, "aren't they like altered to look green?" she questions causing you to chuckle. "No, they are do exist and they are so rare that less than ten get sold a year. I've only ever seen 1. I thought it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever see and I don't want to sound cheesy but that diamond doesn't come near as close to you" 

Wanda smiled ever so softly that quickly dropped after a moment, "if things were different, I'd be different, but I can't, I'm sorry. You're really, really sweet and we've had fun, but we really can't do this" you could hear the disappointment in her voice even though she tried her best to hide it. "I need to know that you can act like we're never met. When we find out who killed your father, you'll never see me again, do you understand?" 

You couldn't help but sigh, "never met you, never slept with you. Got it" your eyes dropped slightly. Wanda stood up from her seat, "I get changed and go, t-thank you for –"

"It's fine. Take your time" you replied before watching her wander back to your bedroom. While Wanda changed into her original clothes, you tidied the kitchen and dining room. "We'll be touch. We spoke to your grandfather today, again, I'm sorry" Wanda's voice entered the kitchen as you turned to face her, giving her a nod, letting the room fill with silence again as Wanda let herself out. 

Once your front door closed, you reached for your phone, texting Kate. 

"We need to talk. Come over, now."

Taglist: @maria-403 | @arlana-likes-to-write | @randomnessbecausewhynot | @33-mrvl | @kaiidth-wandika | @wandanatss | @gaywalkersworld | @s1ut4nat | @natasha10273 | @deadlynightshade418 | @clintsbigtoe | @justyourwritter69 | @masterofpuppets-10 | @sunsol-22 | @druggedduck | @ohboiiitsbritneeeeey | @likefirenrain | @aloneodi | @bibliophilicbi | @imflemme | @teenybean | 

[sometimesanalice]

I’m so curious about ‘Like I Can” and reader’s childhood/high school background!! Could we get some little flashbacks? Your work is amazing btw❣️❣️❣️

Ah! This was such a fun message to get! Sorry it took me a minute to respond, I wanted to make sure I had time to sit down and give it the attention it deserves!

What do you want to know? My inbox is always open, so please feel free to send thoughts or questions in any time they pop up! 🫶🏻

But here’s more about Sweet Girl for you! (i might have gone a little overboard, lol)

Sweet Girl was a bit of a shy girlie and a bit of a late bloomer in her younger years. It wasn’t until high school where she really started coming out of her shell.

She spent a lot of time at the Bradshaw house growing up and felt like it was hers too. Carole was the one who first gave her the “sweet girl” nickname and they had a really close relationship (sg still has the locket Carole gave her for her 13th birthday). And SG’s favorite nights were the ones where they’d get to have sleepovers. The moms would be upstairs having their own (wine, brownies, and romcoms), and her and Bradley would have free rein of the living room. (she famously isn't a fan of movie theater popcorn while Bradley is the extra butter kind of guy, but she does like the kettle corn kind.)

After her parent’s divorce, she had a complicated relationship with her dad. SG never saw it coming and then he moved very quick with a new wife and step siblings, and she felt really betrayed there for a while.

She had a few close friends in her grade, but Bradley was always who she considered her best friend. And because of that she did get picked on sometimes mainly by shitty boys who didn’t understand why they were so close or why he’d want to hang out with her (especially since they have a 2 year gap, so they’d call her his shadow or a tagalong). Bradley made it clear that anyone who messed with her wasn’t cool with him, but there were still some comments under breaths that she’d hear sometimes chose to keep to herself.

She’s always been artsy (she doodled some very detailed fireballs on the page of the sheet music book with Great Balls of Fire that she gave Bradley for his 12th birthday). But her favorite classes in high school were AP history (preferred euro over us) and computer science. (She originally wanted to be a graphic designer, and focused on pursuing her freshman year in college before later changing her major.)

Tennis was her sport of choice, and she was pretty decent at it. Her mom, Carole, and Bradley (baseball schedule depending) were always in the stands to cheer her on (the moms had to sit through so much spring sports, those opaque tumblers were definitely filled with wine, lol)! Both SG and Bradley had shirts they’d made as self professed #1 fan of the other when they were at each other’s games. The year she almost made it to the state playoffs was the year after Carole passed away, and after that happened and seeing her mom there alone in the stands without Carole or Bradley, she quit playing.

Miss ma’am is a smart cookie, and was one of three valedictorians in her class. (She did not audition to give the speech and let one of the others do it because she doesn't like a lot of attention directed at her.)

Her respect for the library (and why she won’t make out with Bradley in the stacks, even though he’s always trying to get her to after they get together, she won’t but she does let him carry her books, lol) is because she used to spend her summers volunteering there. Bradley would either drop SG off or pick her up depending on his baseball camp schedule and his job scooping ice cream. (Which Bradley has a struck ‘no milkshakes’ in the montero rule after she spilled hers one time, and he never let her forget about it)

I do have plans for a couple longer oneshots about their younger years! Including one about the night at the homecoming party where Bradley got his scars, and then also about the period after Carole died and Bradley's self destructive era (when he tried to implode their friendship).

As for some little flashbacks, I think that sounds like so much fun! I love their dynamic so much and have fun weaving in things from their past into the stories I write when I have the chance to do it! If there's specific things you're interested, send them my way! I'm happy to keep a little list and work on them when the time and inspiration hits!

[miukki960]

Okay, so I just finished Love for Love's Sake and..... I have so many thoughts. I could wax poetic for hours about how much I loved the show, but right now what I really want to talk about is my theory on the ending and the whole concept of the "game."

Please bare with me as I don't make posts like this (or any at all for that matter) often. Please forgive me if it's incoherent, my thoughts tend to run faster than my fingers can type lol.

Here we go!

First, who is the author sunbae? I think he's the embodiment of death. When Myungha wished on the shooting star for 1. Someone to care for him and love him and 2. To disappear,he was wearing what I'm pretty sure is the same outfit as when we first see him in the bar back in episode 1. This leads me to believe Death heard his wish, so when Myungha decides to end his life and regrets his decision in the last moment, Death decides to give him a chance to change his fate.

So he creates the "game" based on a novel he supposedly wrote. I believe this is a false memory he gives to Myungha so he will willingly play the game and try to change his fate. Which leads me to my second point...

Myungha is the author. The show did a very good job at keeping this subtle at the beginning. We as an audience are led to believe he is simply transported into the videogmae world and is at the mercy of the dating sim, but they show us multiple times that that's not the case.

Once, when Myungha mentions that the missions are written in his handwriting, a second time when we get a flashback of him actually writing these missions in a notebook at the bar, and a final time when we see him pen the shows Ultimate Mission using the Author's Pen, "Please make Cha Yeowoon Happy."

I started to get the idea that Myungha was the author back in the first few episodes when we started to see the side missions. Every mission he got screamed to me "this mission is actually for you, not Yeowoon." What was the first thing he did when he was supposed to get Yeowoon more friends? He befriended Kyunghoon himself. Save 3,000,000 won? For himself. Get Yeowoon followers? Using HIS Instagram. Which leads to point number three....

The game Myungha is sent to is actually a reenactment of his senior year of high school. All the characters he meets are actual people in his earlier life, his grandma, Kyunghoon, Sangwon. But in his original "playthrough" he didn't bother to befriend or interact with them, so they went about their lives unaffected, and he forgot they existed. I say all this with the exception of Cha Yeowoon.

Cha Yeowoon is a mirrored reflection of Myungha created by Death and inserted into the game. Myungha said himself at the beginning that Yeowoon was his favorite character because he reminds him of himself. Later on, we learn that their backgrounds are almost identical too. Yeowoon lost his mother, has an absent runaway father, and was raised by his grandmother. Myungha has a dead father, absent runaway mother, and is being raised by his grandmother. So at the beginning when Death asks Myungha if he will change Yeowoon's fate and rewrite his story, he's really talking about Myungha.

Adding to this, I also noticed something rather spectacular narratively in the second half of the show. The whole show, we watched Myungha try and (mostly) succeed at making Yeowoon happy. But suddenly I realized, as we watched him get happier and happier, Myungha was falling deeper and deeper into a sadness rivaling how we saw Yeowoon in the beginning. We stopped seeing the calculations of Yeowoon's affection level, and instead saw error messages and system malfunctions, representing Myungha's emotional state.

Which begs the ultimate question on everyone's minds to be answered. If the whole point of sending Myungha back to his 19yo self and giving him Yeowoon was to get him to love himself and be happy, why were the system malfunctions so devastatingly awful and cruel? Answer: because Myungha is the author, and he's depressed and self-destructive.

He begins to feel happy with the changes he's made, he sees Yeowoon happier and he feels like he's succeeding, yet the countdown message to his death still appears. It's ominous and impending and a constant reminder that he's failing. So as the author, he tries to revert back to factory settings by getting rid of the major changes to his life, Yeowoon and his grandmother. The two people who love him most, and the two people he thinks he deserves the least.

Sangwon said it the best. Myungha's main issue is that he refuses to receive love, both from others and himself. Which is why he fails the game and dies a second time. He followed the missions for Yeowoon and refused to let them break down his own walls like they were ment to.

But Death does see the change in him through Yeowoon. Being Myungha's mirror, Yeowoon represents the change that was supposed to happen to Myungha. So when Myungha (the him he hates) deletes himself in order to make Yeowoon (the him he loves) happy ("please make Cha Yeowoon happy"), Yeowoon is able to go full-meta, breaking through the game and rewriting the mission to "Please make Tae Myungha happy."

Thus saving Myungha and allowing him a third chance at a happy life, where he receives just as much love as he gives.

Don't ask me about the "he comes back disjointed from Yeowoon's timeline" thing bc I don't understand it narratively but it sure does make for a visually pleasing ending.

[kimberlyannharts]

So I may have been slightly hyped for this book the past few months

For the three of you who haven't heard about this, MMPR: The Return is a story set in the future of an alternate universe of the MMPRs; one where Jason, Zack, and Trini didn't give up their powers upon the eve of the Peace Conference, and thus the team stayed together even after high school. But fast forward twenty-two years later, and the team has broken up due to some sort of tragedy - we know from the Re-Imagine prologue in the 30 Year Anniversary book, Zordon and Alpha were destroyed by Zedd and Rita. But other stuff seems to have happened too. What is that stuff? I guess we're about to find out!

Oh, and I should mention this was written by the original Pink Ranger herself, Amy Jo Johnson. (and her partner, Matt Hotson.) That might be important to know.

It's Mighty Morphin Power Rangers: The Return #1!

= Three pages in and Jason's already getting his ass kicked. You're forty-five years old, man, you should be at the club

= I know this was debated a bit when the book was announced - how it would line up with Thuy and JDF's passings, especially after coming off the heels of Once and Always, where the focal point was Trini's daughter taking up her powers after Trini's death. (For what it's worth, this book was first conceived pre-pandemic, long before OaA. Making comics takes a long time.) And while Tommy is still a bit up in the air (despite what we'll see in a few pages) Trini does seem to have definitively passed due to illness.

While I definitely get the frustration of Thuy's passing essentially sealing Trini's fate - especially in a comic book, where you don't have to worry about actor restrictions - I'm a little more generous towards it here because Amy and Thuy were close friends and she actually dealt with her death personally compared to how the OaA writers, well......didn't. And this issue is clearly paralleling Kimberly's motivations and feelings to Amy's real-life ones, so this just feels like another part of that.

(Also to contrast OaA's handling of Trini - a) her passing here isn't caused by a graphic onscreen explosion, proving the whole "well they HAD to show it onscreen for more impact!!!" was bullshit b) her friends AND THE WIDER COMMUNITY are actually grieving and talking about her impact on everyone as well as using the non-actor-restriction to SHOW it and c) The book actually gives her a JOB. TWO jobs!!!!!!! Yeah OaA why the fuck did you send ZACK to Congress WHEN IT CLEARLY SHOULD HAVE BEEN TRINI

also I like her middle-aged design. prettyyyyyy)

= onto lighter topics HEYYYY IT'S THESE GUYS!! Bulk and Skull are married and you just can't see the ring through Bulk's gloves, it's real and true

= speaking of which this whole flashback is adorable and nostalgic but I want to point out some background details

= Ernie is just trying to run a fucking business here

= go white boy go

= ZACK/KIM HAS FINALLY COME BACK TO ME MY FUCKING BELOVEDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! God, when WAS the last time they actually talked one-on-one in the main series

= FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

= so along with some other stuff I'm definitely taking this as foreshadowing that Trini wasn't cut off from Kim like the boys were. That's the power of WOMEN (and also if we get Aunt Trini flashbacks with Olivia I'll fucking CRYYYYYY)

= Absolutely obsessed with Billy's face here

= D:

= So besides the Trini stuff I want to the keep the Once and Always comparisons to a minimum but it's very funny how both storylines involve Billy using a company as a front for his embezzlement schemes. At least his telecom company PROBABLY isn't war profiteering

= also Alpha's rose <3

= so anyway Jason's gone rogue and was pretending he's the main character until he suddenly went missing, as shown in the first few pages. And Billy and Zack want to become Rangers again to try and find him.

= but the thing is guys, Kim has won the idgaf war. She's depressed, she's traumatized, she spent twenty-two years raising a child with Tommy's genes all by herself, she's tired. She does NOT want to be wrapped up in Jason's midlife crisis drama

= Zack getting so mad and wanting to risk it all for Jason hell yeah those are my Jason/Zack crumbs

= Mysterious shadowy figure watching the old people drama from a distance, you are just like me fr

= OLIVIA THAT'S FUCKING OLIVIAAAAAAAAAAAA and she already sounds so CUTE. If you go back to the diner scene you can see the phone constantly buzzing until Kim finally puts it away. She's like mom. mom. mom. MOM

= also just because the tragic Tomberly family storyline already makes me want to kms do you think that ring is kind of small and plain because Tommy and Kim were so young when they got married and it's all Tommy could afford. And Kim still wears it to this day. I want to die

= It's already been confirmed that Selena is indeed referring to Sylvia here, so I won't talk about that. What I DO want to talk about is Kim's casual momwear. Those sweatpants!!!!!!!!!!

= It would be really funny if Kim just. immediately slammed the door shut

[alfiely-art]

About that character inmpression, ship thingy you posted... Of course I'l ask you about Yomi (you can answer each questions for him if you want 👀👀)

Aaaand hmmm

What do you think about Yomi x Seth, Hellxander, Fake Zilch x Seth, and Yomi x Fake Zilch x Seth ?

That might be a lot in one go, so uh, take your time!

OURGHHH Yomi. Okay this is gonna be a lot but lets-a go yahoo

Alright first off, first impression of him.

His introduction was literally golden. From his and Martina's Akira reference to Yomi fake-sobbing before coldly ordering Seth to be executed. I was kicking my feet. He immediately shot to my top favorite (before being kicked down again by Yuma and Makoto) but I absolutely enjoyed what an evil little gremlin he was from the very beginning. Honestly, one of the best introductions of a villain I've ever seen.

Next, headcanons. I think he was a theatre kid in high school. I'm saying this from experience. Every theatre kid goes through a little phase where they're evil and flamboyant it comes with the title. Yomi's just went on a little too long, silly silly boy. OH and I think he has chew toys. Being evil is stressful he's gotta chew on smth or else he'll just take it out on an underling, yk?

As for complaints and praise... weeeell, I thought his takedown was a little... anti-climatic? Like on the one hand, I'm very happy for Martina to get to send him to jail. You go girl. But also, he just sorta... accepts being arrested? I wanted him to resist more. Kicking scratching and screaming, yk?? He did a little of that but not much. And I wish we'd seen him in the epilogue, maybe as a small little shot of him in jail being all pouty. As for praise, I really love how fun-to-hate he is. The game makes it very clear he's horrible and you can't really sympathize with him, but also, he's just so fun to watch. Like. What's wrong with him *twirls hair*

Favorite pairing, hmmmmmmmmmm. Initially it was Makoyomi, but rn it's a three-way tie between Makoyomi, Yomiakou, and Hellxander. These dynamics are all just... really fascinating in all honesty. I want to study them. I'm so glad this fandom enjoys toxic yaoi I think I would go insane if there wasn't a plethora of content for these weirdos.

And finally, my overall opinion. He's my wife. My evil scrunkly meow meow. I'm gonna put a collar on him and cook him a yummy dinner while he's chained to a chair. Also his English VA is amazing and did a wonderful job making Yomi iconic, I'm planning on playing Raincode again but with JP voices to compare. He's the silliest villain I've ever seen. They did a great job with his writing, I think. He just, immediately grabs you- and when you look deeper into him it's genuinely so interesting and fun.

OKAY NOW FOR SHIPS.

Yomi x Seth is definitely an interesting ship for me. I don't actively think about it but when I come across content of them, my brain goes "fuck yeah". Sadly their interactions don't give us much to go off of as much as other pairs, but it's always a joy to see.

Hellxander. My beloved. Finding Fake!Zilch in the factory and hearing him ramble about Yomi was eye opening. Kodaka did not need to have that in there but it's there and it's amazing. I wish Yomi had a line or something about Zilch, I want to know how he feels about the guy. Was it a parasocial type of thing??? Was Yomi leading him along??? Please Kodaka. Yomi DLC where we visit Kanai Ward and Yomi is doing community service and having flashbacks to his old gay lover Hitman and he cries in the rain "I hate that ugly bowl cut detective!!!!!!! Curse you Yuma the Kokohead!!!!!!!"

Fake!Zilch x Seth isn't something I've ever really thought about, but I can kinda see a dynamic there. Frail little guy x tough hitman? Yeah that's certainly a good dynamic. I just don't know if this particular case would really... grab me?

And Yomi x Fake!Zilch x Seth... yeah I think that's just torture for Seth. Which is fine I like torturing the guy. I can definitely see Yomi being like "lol that seth guy is soooo funny to torment" and zilch is like "do you want me to torment him director yomi. Anything for you director yomi" and Seth is like "can I please just do my job. Please. Please"

[apprenticestanheight]

I don't know if your taking requests still 😭 but I would kill for some reader and adam angst, like Adam and reader were in the trap and are both suffering with the aftermath of it, but they have eachother to help, fluffy and angsty💔❤️ but bit more angsty for reader, maybe PTSD triggers if your okay with that?.. thankyou!! I love your work and you're fr keeping my obsession alive 😭 idk what I'd do without your works, love you bb <3

We'll Be Okay- Adam Stanheight x gn! reader

Hi!! I love me a good post-bathroom trap centric fic (nearly all of mine for adam have been aus where he lived because I refuse to think otherwise) and writing this was a good distraction from my life as it is now so thank you for sending this in!

One thing before we get into it--Adam is where Lawrence was in terms of the trap, and the reader is where Adam was. They wake up in the bath tub like Adam did because I needed their fear of water to make sense and that was the way to do it.

Fic type- this is hurt/comfort with angsty elements

Warnings- mentions and depictions of undiagnosed PTSD (the reader does mention going to therapy eventually but that's not until the fic is near it's end as to my understanding, therapy wasn't that big of a thing nor was it normalized in a big way until the early-mid 2010s. Might also be wrong there but google refused to tell me very much so meh), depictions of flashbacks, mentions of a fear of the water and such hindering the ability to shower for longer than three or so minutes (make up wipes are used in place because it was my first thought), a mention of serial rapists (in terms of Jigsaws victims), mentions of guns and bullet wounds and guns misfiring, mentions of drowning and being shot into the bathtub, reader is afraid of water and the dark post-trap

TWO MONTHS POST BATHROOM TRAP

You'd escaped the bathroom trap with Adam two months before you found yourself standing in a garden in Jersey after having left your apartment for the first time in two weeks. You were wearing basic outfitting--a pair of black jeans, a white cable knit sweater because Jersey was finally cold enough for you to dig it out of your closet, black Dr Marten boots that you'd owned since high school and would never give up on despite the wear they'd accrued in the eight years since you'd graduated, a black cardigan and a white beanie because when Jersey was cold it was better to wear too much than wear too little.

You hadn't known what your goal of the day was when you'd woken up--grants that your closest friend had applied for for you to get funds after the traumatic incident covered your medical bills and had been covering your rent for the two months post escape. You were applying for jobs after quitting your other one because there were too many reminders of the trap there, but you'd decided the night before that you weren't going to go job hunting that day--but you knew you had to do something.

So, you got up. You did your best to shower--waking up in the bathtub and nearly drowning in it had hindered your capabilities to be under water for longer than three-ish minutes--and you told yourself that that was enough while you made sure you didn't stink by using make up wipes that smelled like your favorite scent.

You got dressed in the cable knit sweater you'd thrifted when you were eighteen, put on the black jeans you'd borrowed from a coworker that July but would probably never return, put on a couple of pairs of socks to help combat the cold while acknowledging that the Dr Martens you'd splurged on just a couple days before you were taken still needed breaking in. You grabbed the cardigan off of your coat hanger by the door, did up the three buttons on the waistline, and grabbed a hat when you remembered you needed to grab your phone and apartment and car keys before you left.

Then, you left your apartment. You decided to walk instead of drive and stopped by a local breakfast bakery because you'd been meaning to start supporting locally owned businesses anyway. You grabbed a cinnamon roll and your hot drink of preference, then you left the store and kept walking.

You found yourself standing in one of the only gardens in Jersey, the mornings frost dusting the grass in a way that makes it look almost more beautiful than it does in spring.

You breath in deep, the air bitingly cold, but you find yourself thankful for it. You've started noticing that you're thankful for a lot lately--after a couple of bullet wounds from Zepp and Adam both, you had to spend three weeks in the hospital just...healing.

The minute you stepped out of the hospital, you found your case wasn't quite old news and press just kept hounding you, going so far as to wait for you in the lobby of your apartment complex.

Coupled with that was the fact that you had to go to the police to give a statement while the events were still clear in your mind. Because of complexities on the force and with the Jigsaw case, your statements kept being interrupted because of how thin things were stretched even with the FBI on the case, so that occupied the first week of your second month out.

Then, it was a myriad of issues. You were too afraid to have the spaces in your place be dark, you couldn't handle being in the water for too long because Zepp had shot you into it when he shot you in the shoulder and the chest, being unable to move because Adam had misfired and shot you in the leg when the gun was within his reach and Zepp had tried to wrestle it away from him.

But, still. You took a deep breath in, watching the ground, and were grateful for that capability. Just like you'd thanked the barista who'd taken your order, thanked your luck that you'd woken up in your apartment rather than the bathroom like your nightmares had told you you would. Just like you would thank the first stray cat who ran up to you and rubbed their cheek against your hand when you extended it--Jigsaws aim had been to make sure you felt grateful for the life you got, and while it had left you traumatized, the innate urge to thank things that you'd taken for granted before seemed to come along with the fact that you'd survived.

You weren't grateful for the fact that you'd been trapped--the trauma you inherited along with the survival had kind of hindered that. Instead, your time was spent angered at Jigsaw for doing as he'd done.

"Y/N?" You hear your name being called, recognize the voice calling it instantly. "What are you doing in the garden? It's the middle of November."

You laugh a little bit as you turn to face him. "I don't know," you say. "I just--it's standing in the garden that will be relatively free of people until the spring or job hunting. I've been using a grant to pay my rent since we escaped, so I chose to do this instead."

Adam laughs a bit in turn, and you let yourself approach him.

He looks good--his hair has grown out a slight bit, he's got his camera slung over his hip. He's wearing glasses, too, and oddly enough they suit him.

He's wearing outfitting that you just think is so him--a pair of blue jeans, henley layered with a flannel or two, and a leather jacket. He looks better than good--he looks amazing.

"What do you do for work?" You ask in the interest of making polite conversation. "Are you still working as a--"

"PI? No," Adam says. "I work in photojournalism now. Don't even smoke as often as I used to, I get so damn terrified he's around and watching me."

You snort. "Oh, believe me, I can relate. I've debated adopting a dog recently but I'm too afraid that I'll see an old man sitting somewhere sketching away whenever I take them on a walk. I hate it, but it's the new normal so I guess all we can do is adjust."

"You could adopt a cat," Adam suggests. The two of you start walking toward the garden entrance. "Unless, of course, you decide to leash train them. In which case, just make sure they don't climb up a tree and I'm sure you'll be okay."

You laugh a little and realize that you haven't laughed so much since before the trap. It's a little disheartening, but you and Adam were dropped at two separate hospitals. You couldn't have talked to him before that moment, and you were going to cherish it and all the laughter it brought along.

"If I did adopt a cat, I would want to make sure I had a job beforehand. The grants my friend got me on can be used to pay for rent and other expenses but I don't want to adopt a cat using 'hey, you were traumatized and we can't fix that but here's some money!' money. You're able to apply for them up to three months after the incident, so if you're needing something to cover the rent and make sure you have adequate groceries from paycheck to paycheck, I'd look into it."

Adam shook his head. "Pfffffftt," he breathed. "What--rent money and grocery money? In this America? How foolish a thought!"

You laugh. You'd not experienced any trouble with putting food on your table thanks wholly to the grants, but before the trap you were making enough to cover rent and rent only and as such would frequent the foodbank nearest your apartment.

"Seems a luxury until you realize that living without roaches is, in fact, your right as a tenant. Does your new job at least pay you enough to move somewhere?"

"They gave me a place, actually! It's near my job and the rent is cut from my paycheck. I get five hundred for groceries which goes a long way when one is shopping sales and at places like Aldi," Adam says. "I'm also using a company owned car--my friend Scott knows someone who knows someone else. Got an interview, didn't flunk my way through it, and now I've got a solid set up, I think."

You smiled. You were so happy for him.

When you're within a foot of the exit, Adam sidesteps, gestures at it and lets you through first with a sarcastic grin on his face. "The one who's got more bullet wounds gets to leave first," he says as you exit.

"I don't have that many more than you do," you say.

"You have four," Adam says. "Two in the chest, one in the shoulder, one in the leg. I have one--a shoulder wound is nothing, especially considering that Zepps aim was off."

You smile close-lipped at him, and Adam shakes his head.

"I know," he says. "Too soon. 'M sorry I didn't visit you--I meant to find your number in the phone book after I'd gotten out of the hospital, but I didn't know if you'd gotten out yet and I didn't want to leave a voice message. Doing so would've felt pathetic, I think."

"It's all right," you said. "I was a mess until my last four days in--had I seen you, I think that I would've needed to be sedated. John definitely got to me in a way that was not very fun at the start."

"You're on a first name basis with him now?" Adam asks, sarcasm dripping from his tone.

"Oh yeah," you said. "Kramer and I get coffee every Wednesday, and I hear all about the relatively innocent people he plans to put into his murder machines. Not a lot of photographers, though--you must've been a one-off."

Adam snorts and you laugh, leaning against him a bit. It's like something in your dynamic has cracked, returned you to the people you were in the bathroom--Adams sarcasm, your riffing off of his responses and hitting back with your own. The difference is that Adam found the key to the chain around his foot in a cracked and lifted area of the floor two feet away from where the chain on his foot kept him, and left after finding that the key required for the cuff on your foot was different. You were stuck for a few days before Kramer and one of his accomplices freed you after asking if you'd held out hope and when you responded yes desperately because you were dehydrated and hadn't eaten and you were bleeding out.

Adam sighs. "I have to get to work, but I'll call you, okay? You have a landline?"

"Yeah," you nod. "It's the number beside my name in the phone book."

Adam nods. "Okay," he says.

And then you're watching him go, and the coldness of reality is returning.

FOUR MONTHS POST BATHROOM TRAP

In the months that follow, you end up with a job working in marketing. Adam calls your landline and you give him the number associated with your flip phone. You start meeting for coffee when your shifts line up and let you do so before or after work, and on the weekends and most weekdays you two are inseparable until midnight comes and you're telling Adam to call you in the morning while you go about your nighttime routines.

Adam stays over on the weekends, or you stay at his. It depends on who's place the coffeeshop or bar you go to after work is closer to because the two of you take turns choosing where.

When, two weeks into your second month post escape, you adopt the pair of stray kittens you find in the dumpster behind your apartment, Adam starts picking coffeeshops that are closer to your apartment than his own.

The cats are both boys and are named Cinnamon and Nutmeg for their brown coats. Cinnamon is completely brown all over and blue eyed, whereas Nutmeg is a calico that has shades of brown all over his back, paws, face and tail, where white is on his tummy and neck area.

Adam has spent more time taking photos of them than he'll willingly admit, but as time develops he also has a ton of photos of you doing anything and everything--opening the windows, falling asleep while you two watch a bad horror movie, doing some work from home, making coffee and tea, holding a joint, making breakfast, eating an edible.

He also realizes as time goes on that you are a lot worse off than he is. Three months in and you can't stomach the thought of going to the part of Jersey where the trap was located. You can't exist in spaces absent of light for too long, you look over your shoulder constantly because you're afraid that the act of lighting a cigarette while in a public space will have you trapped again. You cry a lot and are sometimes terrified to be in your apartment because you were taken from there, just like Adam was.

There are days where something sets it off and you're thrown off kilter so bad that you have a panic attack. Nutmeg the cat is very receptive to moments like that one, often rushing to your side with Cinnamon the cat on his toes, ready to press his face against your tear stained cheeks while you idly pet at the fur on the top of his head, and Adam lights the lavender candle you use because the scent of lavender is calming.

Three months in and Adam is suddenly fond of notebooks because he likes to keep track of the things that trigger it for you. Winter-era power outages from the wind are not at all helpful in your recovery post trap, he discovers. You hate it, even with the candles lit. You cannot stand living in the dark--it reminds you of waking up in the bathroom, waking inside a full bathtub with your foot chained to a pipe on one side of the room while Adam was chained to one on the other. You can't stand the smell of the sewage in downtown Jersey or the smell of the dumpsters behind your apartment building because it smells too much like the bathroom. You get anxious about the idea of taking baths and being submerged in the water and find showers difficult most days.

You thank baristas and hold the doors open for people. You thank Nutmeg and Cinnamon whenever they cuddle up next to you or in the all-too-common instance that Nutmeg tries to use kisses as a reason for you to feed him two dinners. You laugh at dogs in the park doing silly stuff and you love the taste of coffee. You watch the news warily whenever a new Jigsaw victim or survivor comes out of the woodwork and you love the job you ended up with. You can't stand the sight of Walkmans or the sound of cassette tapes. You seem to thrive off the sound of Adams laugh in the way he thrives off yours.

By the fourth month, Adam has realized that his lists of the things that set you off and their solutions have just become lists of things you do and don't really notice while you do them--the smile on your face when you feed Nutmeg and Cinnamon or choose to donate a dollar to whichever charity when you and Adam are ordering your coffee from the coffeeshop you've both taken a liking to near your apartment.

The way that you look when you're baking or the way that you look when you watch the sunset, the sound of your laugh in the mornings.

The way that you look when you've just woken up and are registering the fact that Adams hand is carding through your hair because he's been awake fifteen minutes longer than you have. The sheer excitement you seem to radiate while you make your first cup of coffee of the day, the serenity that takes you over whenever the two of you watch the sunset from Adams fire escape, the way that you lean against him, arm looped through his elbow, when things get too much or when the world gets too quiet.

His lists of the things that he likes about you and the ones about things that set you off are eventually put into two separate notebooks after a while of meaning to separate the two things and have two different styles--the ones of things he likes about you are rambles. They go on for pages at a time and there are more run on sentences than there aren't.

The lists of things that trigger your trauma responses are simple--Adam writes the trigger and the solution.

Staying in the dark for too long--consider buying a small lamp for corner of room as Christmas gift, light candles, open windows (cold is good--Y/N likes the cold. Helps keep them grounded) play shitty 80s horror movie so that there's light from the tv

The smell of sewage and dumpsters behind apartment complex--avoid the areas of Jersey where the sewage is prominent, tell Y/N to plug nose and breathe through mouth when taking the garbage down

They're simplistic in their own right, complex in that too, but they're good.

Adam is holding a six pack of donuts and a tray with two coffees from your favorite local breakfast bakery when he opens your door, startled to find it unlocked. Your apartment door was always locked unless Adam called beforehand and you knew you'd be in the shower when he showed up, thus unable to let him in, but he'd not called that morning. He knew you didn't have to work and neither did he, so the fact that your door was unlocked set him on edge almost instantly.

He proceeds in with caution, setting the coffee and donuts on your coffee table. Nutmeg the cat meows at him before starting in the direction of your fire escape, the curtain drawn to a close over the window through which you got to it. When Nutmeg turns around to make sure Adam is following, Adam starts to.

He pulls the curtain over your window back, blinking a little in the surprise he feels as he realizes that it's mostly closed. Your back is pressed against the railing, your body facing the window, your eyes closed but your face tilted skyward.

Adam opens the window, steps onto the fire escape. He closes the window behind him after gently shooing Nutmeg the cat indoors so that he doesn't have to deal with the cold bite of Jersey in January.

"Y/N?" He asks in a voice that's barely above a whisper. He's helped you through panic attacks as you've helped him through the same, but he's never seen you like that before.

Your eyes open. You don't look at him.

"Do you ever get nightmares?" You ask.

Adam inhales sharply. His capabilities as far as sleep are concerned have been detrimentally affected since he escaped the bathroom trap. He went from getting somewhere just past the seven hour threshold on weekdays and nine or ten on weeknights to nightmares no matter how mundane the day. Because of the nightmares, he'd averaged out to three or four hours a night, two on his worst and five on his best.

"Every night since I left," he says. "When I escaped, I had a nightmare about leaving you behind--which, I did at first. I'm sorry about that, by the way."

You were chained to a pipe near a bathtub. Adam had been chained to a pipe near the door. Adam had found the key in a cracked and lifted part of the floor about two feet away from him after several hours of bickering and telling Adam to shoot you despite his protests. That day had been one of the worst days of your life.

Still, four months after your escape and well into a January in the city of Jersey, the days you spent starving to death, fading in and out of consciousness and bleeding from four wounds barely managed to top that.

"I didn't have too many," you say. "Not until recently--went for a three month visit to check on the wounds in my chest. Think that spurred me on a little, and I've been having them for three weeks now."

"What are yours about?" Adam asks.

You meet his gaze. Adam is startled to find that he can probably drown in the relief he feels as you do, following it by a gentle shake of your head and a smirk while you stretch your right leg out, crossing your ankle over his left foot. Adam presses his back against the window and idly wishes he could smoke.

"Nah," you say. "Nope. You first."

"Leaving you behind, mostly," he admits. "Some are about one of us being put into a trap again, the other of us being forced to watch them die. Mundane stuff compared to what old man Jigsaw is known for, right?"

You laugh. "Mine are somewhat the same," you say. "You leave me behind, but it's your choice to do so. Others center around my experience escaping, most are about drowning in the bathtub while you hold me, though. Sweet stuff--you're sobbing and you kiss my forehead and you ask the sky 'why, why them?'"

Adam snickers. "Had that been how it happened, I absolutely would've done that," he says. "God isn't really someone I believe in, but I would've stopped believing in him had you died. I uh--well, people have been put into Jigsaw traps for worse than us, right?"

"Worse reasons, and pettier ones, too," you say. "You spy on people, I fudged the data on a couple of marketing reports when my old boss promised me a raise, which you ended up investigating."

You approach and Adam welcomes your embrace, settling with you sitting against the fire escape railing by the window, one of Adams legs up and your leg tucked beneath it while the other sat near his foot, your foot resting against his calf.

"We're going to be okay," you say. "I mean--not now. Probably not by March, but we will be, I think."

Adam scoffs. "You think?"

"I don't know," you shrug. "Nothing is certain, really, but if I'm remembering correctly, 'time heals all wounds' was, in fact, my senior quote. Either that or something from a Jane Austen novel."

Adam laughs, presses a kiss against your forehead. You relax for a minute, eyes closing as you breathe the cold air in and whatever kicked up that trauma response seems to settle.

"For the record--I think we'll be fine," he says. "I mean, my margin for fine is a little on the low end, but I really do think we'll get there one way or another. We have to."

You grin at him, take his hand.

An unspoken truth exists there--you'll be okay if you have each other. You'll claw your way to okay if you have to, but you'll get there and you'll do with hands entwined, no matter how exhausting it becomes.

SIX MONTHS POST BATHROOM TRAP

You were working. You liked your job. Yours and Adams romantic relationship had been going on for a month when you decided to turn on the news on a crisp evening somewhere near the second week of March.

Another case. Another victim and survivor both, another instance wherein Jigsaw completely evaded capture and no leads on his location are findable.

Sometimes, despite the number of good days you have, you have bad ones, too. Adam is the same--his trauma isn't as bad as yours in the long run, but sometimes his nightmares throw him for a loop or he finds the darkness too unsettling or he gets too close to the part of town where the trap was without realizing until it's too late.

You both have your bad days and your bad weeks, and you've both come to rely on each other during those times. Adam knows how to get you onto the ground again when you feel like you are floating outside of yourself, and you know how to help him when his nightmares have left him helpless, drowning in the thought that he'd left you to die alone in the bathroom.

Adam knows your signals well enough, which explains the closeness he keeps to you when he shows at your apartment after his shift where yours had ended only forty-five minutes beforehand and you'd been home for all of thirty.

You'd managed to take a shower in that time, but in combination with your trauma exacerbated by a nightmare when you'd slept the previous night, it still left you reeling. Every drop of water against your skin was another reminder of the fact that you'd been shot into the bathtub, would've drowned if not for the fact that Adam pulled you out in a panic.

So, you were standing in your living room, your hair was damp. the news was on in the background, some reporter droning on about the specifics of the newest set of survivors and the victims who'd been identified thus far.

You were wearing a pair of adidas joggers and one of Adams hoodies, socks covering your feet because your floors were always cold. You were asking Adam if he wanted to order a pizza while he interlaced your fingers and nodded, pulling you back toward him when you started walking away and pressing a kiss to your forehead when you melted into his embrace for a split second.

You ordered the pizza while your brain was still trying to process everything, some part of you wanting to go back to watching the news despite knowing that such probably wasn't in yours or Adams best interests.

Once the pizza was ordered, you and Adam went to your living room. Adam looked at you how he looks at you when he's trying to determine the best way to help and ends up pulling you close, the two of you swaying along to the tune of the weatherman reporting the next week of Jersey springtime temps.

You're shaking, still a little on edge. You've been the way that you are for six months, and in those six months you've tried everything that you can short of going to therapy.

You bought melatonin gummies to combat the fear of falling asleep and thus falling victim to another nightmare and you take them as the fear sets in.

You've started gradually working on your fear of water rather than doing as you used to--forcing yourself under the shower head and trying to wash and condition your hair while in the midst of a panic attack--and you're slowly starting to work on your fear of the darkness, though you doubt you'll ever again find solace in it like you used to.

Adam, though, is a delightful constant in a life that, before your trap, was almost completely absent of them. You see each other daily, have each others backs and can read each other like neither of you can read anyone else.

Adam knows you inside and out, and that's why he knows to keep close while you sway, hands interlaced in order to keep yours from shaking.

Externally, you just seem like a couple in their mid twenties, swaying along to the music in their hearts while the news talks in detail of the latest local and global tragedies.

Internally, though, you're stuck in the bathroom again. Your chest is stinging with the reminder of the two bullets that were shot into it. Your leg aches like the wound is new and your shoulder begs for a reprieve from the burn of a bullet wound.

Internally, you're watching Adam try to jam the key into the lock attached to the chain on the cuff attached to your foot. He's angry because it's not working and you're begging him to go because you don't want him to see you bleeding out.

You're telling him "If you go, you have a shot at saving me. Go and get help, Adam. Please."

And he's responding. "I'm not going to leave you behind," and your hand is against his face, one of his is on your hip and you're both covered in blood that is his and yours both. Zepp Hindle is dead. The doors have slid open and Adam can go.

You push him away. "Please," you croak.

And then you watch Adam go, hope leaving you as he turns his back after promising that he'll come back and find you, even if it kills him.

Internally, you are once again the person who fell into murky bathtub water, and you're hearing Adams shouts as Zepp tries to drown you but Adam fights him off and yanks you out.

Internally, you are person startled awake by the feeling of two hands against your shoulders. You're mumbling Adams name.

"No," says a grizzly voice. It's the kind that just...has to belong to an older guy, the kind that you would hear from some sixty year old who'd chainsmoked his way through the previous ten years of his life.

"I have a question for you, Y/N," the voice is saying. "Have you held out hope for Adams return?"

In your bouts of consciousness, the first thing that you've spoken has been his name. "Yes," you're croaking, voice raspy from the disuse and the fact that you haven't drank water in days.

"Congratulations, then. You've passed your test, and it is time you got to a hospital."

Internally, you're hearing the sound of keys being inserted into the lock on the chain that holds your foot captive. You're being carried bridal style out of the building by a woman, dropped into an SUV. You're blacking out, starving and dehydrated, while you're driven to the hospital.

Then Adams voice meets your ears. "Y/N?" One of his hands moves to the small of your back. Your hand starts shaking but Adam moves it to his face, your thumb against his top lip. "Come home. We aren't in the bathroom--not anymore."

You're breathing in. Your eyes are opening as you trace your thumb over Adams lips. Adam steps just a little closer as your hand moves from his lips to his shoulder. You're careful not to touch the wound there.

"We're okay," Adam says. "It's been six months. Today, actually--it's the six month anniversary. I made it out and I called for help while I was sitting on a gurney in the ambulance. I didn't leave you behind, I promise. I told you I wouldn't and I didn't."

Despite the inklings of progress you've made, Adam senses that the reassurance isn't bringing you back like it's meant to. He tries to think of what you'd told yourself after a series of flashbacks--he's got it written somewhere, and despite himself, knows it almost like the back of his hand.

"Your name is Y/N L/N," he starts. "It's been six months since you escaped the bathroom trap, which you were placed into on September 10th, 2004. You were put into the trap because you fudged data for the promise of a raise that you desperately needed because your boss had lowered your pay to the point where it was either covering rent or eating on payday."

You did it like that--your name, the duration of time since you'd left the trap, the day you were put into it, the reason. That was always how it started.

"You are twenty seven years old," he continues. "You have two cats named Cinnamon and Nutmeg and you thank everyone for everything all the time. You say sorry a lot, too, and you like weed but you find nicotine a little disgusting because of how it tastes and the headaches smoking leaves behind.

"You like the coffee and baked goods from Maries on the corner of Cornelia and 45th. You hate the water and you hate the dark and you hate being left alone when the loneliness of that sets in, but you love things too. You love sunrises and sunsets, the smell of coffee and Jersey in the winter."

You squeeze his shoulder a bit, press your forehead against it. Adams hand moves from your lower back up to your shoulder, falling down your arm. He gives the hand of yours that is still tucked into his a squeeze.

"You love it when Nutmeg meows at you, the way that Cinnamon always runs to the good spot for sunbathing in front of your fire escape," he says. "You love late nights and the opportunities they give you in the realm of stealing my sweaters. You love cinnamon buns and music and the sound of birds chirping, and in an unexpected turn of events, your favorite movie is 1987s 'The Princess Bride'. You escaped the trap and we're in your apartment, we've ordered food, and everything is as okay as it can be right now."

You take a deep breath in. Adam squeezes your hand again, presses a kiss to your forehead.

"You surprisingly put up with my music taste despite the fact that ours differ," he says. "And you survived. You survived, Y/N. We both survived, and that has to count for something, at least."

Internally, the flashback ends. You exist outside of yourself for a solid thirty seconds more before Adams lips against your forehead brings you back to the ground.

"Thank you," you say, offering a weak smile. Adam grins back, reassuring and warm.

"Anytime," he says.

Six months in, things are okay. They could definitely be better, but they're okay enough and that's what really matters.

TWELVE MONTHS POST ESCAPE

The six months to follow are relatively decent--Adam moves into your apartment and his paycheck is bumped up significantly as he's not living where the company was paying for him to.

You find a therapist you like in order to work on your residual trauma and start going in every Saturday from two to four. You and Adam buy Cinnamon and Nutmeg a cat tree almost as tall as the wall in your living room and every single morning becomes one full of tired, groggy voices, hugs from behind and the sound of exhausted laughter.

The morning of September fourteenth comes quicker than you or Adam had expected for it to, but you try to go about your day as normal. Jigsaw is still at it, wherever he's ended up. You wake that morning to news of a detectives disappearance and one of his past victims having been tested again. There were two survivors in total--Amanda Young and Daniel Matthews, the son of the missing detective.

You try not to let it dampen your mood and decide to order breakfast rather than make it--you have the day off, as does Adam. You took it because you figured it wouldn't be a very good day and Adam took it because he wanted to suffer with you, in his words.

Off the bat, there's nothing that triggers it. Sure, the news has you in a tizzy as you discover that a group of people was placed into what evidence is reportedly calling "The Nerve Gas House," and you feel a moment of resentment for the fact that all of it is being sensationalized by the media, but that barely scratches the surface. It doesn't trigger much more than mild anxiety and resentment as you really start thinking about it. More people dead. Two left alive.

You wonder how Eric feels, how Amanda feels--both of them are being bombarded by the media just like you and Adam were, and you remember that much as though it were yesterday.

The true crime reporters were a different kind of ruthless, some of them trying to visit you while you were still in the hospitals recovery unit. News reporters also kind of sucked, but then it seemed like everyone wanted a scoop, and you could recall being told to "savor your fifteen minutes of fame" once by one of the particularly ruthless reporters who tried to visit you, even going so far as to open the door to your hospital room and enter while you were high on morphine and still being hydrated through an IV.

The entire thing has made you angry in recent months--Jigsaw, you can admit, puts a very wide scope of people into his traps. It ranges from people with a history of drug addiction or people like you who'd committed relatively minor offenses for decent reason to serial rapists and people who were the direct cause of someone elses death.

The ones who survive his traps are usually left with something to serve as a consistent reminder. For you it is back-of-the-mind worry about things in relation to your heart because two bullets were lodged there for several days. For Adam and you alike, it is the fact that you feel the bad weather before the bad weather hits because you'll get pain in your legs and your shoulders. For others, its the scars that self mutilation has left behind, sometimes even as far as consistent reminder of the loss of a limb coupled with the trauma and the responses developed from it.

So--the thing that makes you angry about all of it is that people survive the things that Jigsaw puts them through, and then, traumatized and having been given a hefty medical bill, the media circus will start. They'll be harassed by reporters as they walk down the street or after giving their statement to the police and the harassment will just continue until the next case comes around.

But, you suppose its better to digress. You turn the news off as you get a call that your food has arrived. Adam, having woken up and taken a shower only to get redressed into a pair of sweatpants and one of the baggy cableknit sweaters you loved digging out of your closet come the first of September, gets it from the door and thanks you for ordering food.

You sit and eat your breakfast while laughing at Cinnamon as he tries to steal Adams bacon, where Nutmeg the cat has settled between your side and the corner of the couch, head on your thigh as he purrs because you'd given him a few pieces of shredded cheese earlier, when you were snacky before you stepped into the shower and braved your way through standing under the water longer than five minutes.

Adam looks to you for help, and you shrug. "You're the one who took it upon yourself to feed him a small piece of bacon when he was nine weeks old," you say.

He laughs a little, holding his bacon egg sandwich in the air and laughing at Cinnamons persistence as he jumps from Adams lap to his shoulder, stretching out over Adams arm.

"I aided in the raising of a demon cat," he says. "You adopted a demon cat."

"I adopted two demons," you said. "I just don't happen to like bacon and Nutmeg calms down when I give him a little shredded cheese once every few weeks."

Adam shakes his head and relents, ripping a small piece of bacon off and letting Cinnamon have it. He's able to eat peacefully from there, Cinnamon settling on the couch cushion behind him.

You eat breakfast in a medley of calmness, talking about work and the apartment and getting snippy at one point, Adams sarcasm coming into play and you reminding him of how quick witted you can get when you riff off his sarcasm like it's nothing. You both mention how good a walk in the gardens sounds while the gardens are still walkable and not bitten by frost, but don't end up deciding to go right then.

There comes a point where Adam moves closer to you and you curl against his side and there's a silent knowledge that passes over you.

The one year anniversary of Adams escape was four days ago. The one year anniversary of your escape is today. Three days exist between the 10th and the 14th, all of which you spent alone. You were alone in that hospital, just as Adam was alone in his. Neither of you had reached out to your families beyond a few stunted phone calls, but you were still alive. A year gone and you were still standing.

Adam presses a kiss to your forehead. "'M sorry I left."

"I told you to go."

"I know, but I feel like I should've stayed."

You turn to look at him, shaking your head. "No," you say. "Had you stayed, we both would've failed and we would've been left for dead. You left because I begged you to go, you got to stay alive, and so did I. We both passed the test that Jigsaw set up for us and now we're here. You can't wallow in the what-ifs, okay? I already know how it would've ended had you stayed and I am relentlessly glad that you didn't."

You press your forehead against his. He grabs your hands. You interlace your fingers and give his hands a squeeze. Of course that day was not going to be an easy one--a year gone already? A year of nightmares, of flashbacks, of good and bad moments both, passed you by like it were a blink.

"We're okay," you whispered. "And we're okay because you left. You left, Adam, and you saved my life."

You pull away, meet his gaze. He's looking at you like you're the love of his life and he hates that leaving you was something he had to do at all.

"We're okay," you whisper.

"We're okay," Adam nods.

To tell the truth of it, you're not sure whether or not you're lying to yourselves. If you are lying to yourselves, however, then the lie is pretty damn convincing.

--

You and Adam end up walking through one of the only gardens in Jersey as the sun goes down. It's the first time you've been to the garden in ten months, and the ten months that have passed have been ones that were good, bad, everything.

Adams hand is interlaced with yours. Your cheek is against his shoulder. Things don't really feel okay, but you know that they will start to eventually.

But, there is also the truth within that that 'okay' is not a constant. There will be moments of your life wherein the thing in its entirety comes crashing down upon you, moments where you feel like breathing is a struggle, like blinking will make you exhausted. There will be moments wherein you're okay, moments where okay elevates to good. Good elevates to great, and great elevates to amazing.

There is not one constant state of feeling or emotion, there is not one constant state of being. Things will fluctuate, as they do, and as Adam lifts his camera to snap a photo of a stray cat, you think, for the first time since your escape, that you're fine with that.

Whatever the next phase of your life looks like, whatever it means for the trauma that still lingers from your time spent in the bathroom trap, you can handle it. With Adam by your side, with your apartment and the adorable cats you adopted two and a half months after you'd been dumped at a hospital with severe bleeding, blood loss, and several bullet wounds, you can handle it. Whether or not you'll be okay throughout all of that time, you'll handle it, and that's what matters.

[zeldamomoe]

Let's do a little bit of a Flashback Friday, shall we? Some of you might remember me as "that Lana cosplayer" from Hyrule Warriors! Back in 2014 before the game even came out in Japan, I swiftly created this costume as my "comeback to cosplay" after a few years hiatus to focus on paying my way through college. It really opened my eyes to how mainstream cosplay was becoming at that time, because of my first photoshoot with PialVisions getting viral thanks to ZeldaInformer sharing it everywhere. Unfortunately, the racists came out of the woodwork like it was their job and ridiculed my skin tone. The ones that stood out to me the most were:

the person who tagged their friend and said "your Arab cousin ruined Lana for me"

and the person who asked if I was Hispanic (in Spanish, mind you), and I said no I'm Lebanese from America, and he said "well your skin should me milk white" again, in Spanish lmao fuck you 😂

I was really sad about all of it that I almost decided not to continue cosplaying. Seeing all that hate after such a long hiatus was difficult (and I wasn't even very good at cosplay or photo editing yet, I just was the first Lana, so it made WAVES 🙈). But I made so many new friends thanks to me getting viral like CinnamonNeutrality (Cee), ChibiTifa, LayzeMichelle, just to name a few. I'm sure I would've ran into Cee eventually since we went to the same GTA cons, but you never know! Nowadays, I stay humble and thankful for the opportunities Lana gave me. I took her to Fan Expo 2014, and shot with Herbiecide there. We took some gorgeous photos on the roof, and I'll remember fondly that we ran into a trio of Perfume cosplayers. Because I hadn't been to Fan Expo since 2009 at that point, and it was my first big con since then, I was so excited seeing Perfume cosplayers XD I was a big fan of them in high school and college. I posted some of his photos of my Lana cosplay on Tumblr actually and got viral again! I do remember that was a good viral though, not much harassment came from that, and if it did, I forgot all about it. My username used to be SMZeldaRules, so it was on that Tumblr, which has long been deactivated. In 2015, I made her staff and brought her to Pax East. And in 2017, I had one final photoshoot with Z is Eternal. I then ended up giving it to my friend Ayla at Antipode Geek Bellydance. It's 2023 now, and big companies and websites STILL don't moderate their comment sections well at all (looking at you Square Enix when you shared my Rachel Amber cosplay in 2020 and people were acting a fool lmao). We gotta stand up for all marginalized groups in cosplay! Keep making your stuff and have fun! FUCK RACISM 😤😤😤

photos: Pial Visions, Herbiecide, Z is Eternal & edits by me

[halfetirosie]

ཐིཋྀ ALL ROADS LEAD BACK TO PHILOSOPHICAL DISCUSSION, NO ONE CAN ESCAPE IT ཐིཋྀ

(Elysium 08-09 React-os!)

1) This is the CREEPIEST peer-pressure scene I have ever seen...

( ⊙ _ ⊙ )

I CALL BULLSHIT!!!!

(This part of Vampire Bitch's creepy speech kinda reminds me of the sermon Olivine was giving at the beginning of this event. It acts as a sort of dark reflection of the message Olivine was trying to give then, I think...

In his sermon, if I remember correctly, Olivine said that everyone has "shortcomings," and that people should accept them and still try to do the right thing. On the other hand, the so-called Master of Elysium is saying people should indulge in all of their desires, regardless of the consequences.

I don't know if it was intended, but this feels like a twisted parallel to me. 🤷‍♀️)

I CALL BULLSHIT!!!! x2

Say it with me, now: If something seems too good to be true, then it probably is!

2) Bro accidentally made the most effective ANTI-drug PSA of all time:

"Here, take this drug! Then you, too, can be a pasty, skeletal drug dealer that ignores others' human rights!"

Gee, how very persuasive...

(◔_◔)

3) PFFFFFT!!! 😂

Eiden over here hiding behind Kuya like he's his big brother--

😂😂😂

4) Damnnnnn, Kuya calling Vampire Bitch out on his Bullshit!!!!!

Lemme tell you, it feels WEIRD AF to actually side with Kuya on something.

Like, I know in my last post I talked about how Kuya is more reasonable when it comes to large-scale issues. But seeing him actively scold someone for harming others? All of this ★ Responsible Kuya ★??? WEIRD.

It's like going to a high school reunion, and seeing the Deadbeat Stoner Kid™ wearing a suit and talking about their corporate job---I mean, hell yeah, good for them, but I do not know this person anymore :D

5) Eh, idk man. I'm having so many THOUGHTS.

First of all, I think it's definitely debatable whether this has "anything to do with Mr. Kuya." Yes, people always make their own decisions in the end---by their own will---but you can't ignore the reality that others have the power to influence their decisions.

It's the second part of this exchange, where Kuya talks about how our decisions make us who we are, that feels strange to me.

I assume that this statement, along with the insistence that Olivine take the "Trial of Choice" (whatever the hell that is), is Kuya's weird-ass Tsundere Bullshit™ way of helping Olivine? As in, he sees Olivine having an internal struggle with himself, and this is his way of helping him be decisive??? 🤔

Or maybe Kuya just wanted to find a non-violent way to get Vampire Bitch to let him leave (+ leave him alone in the future)?

I just don't know, man.... Why does every goddamn thing the fox say have to be so cryptic???

(╯◉ _ ◉)╯︵ ┻━┻

6) Yeah, I agree with Eiden---

Just what the FUCK is this Trial for it to be such a big deal??? I trust NOTHING that has "Trial" in its name---

Although, I wonder; was the flashback we saw at the very beginning of this event from a past Trial of Choice? 🤔

7) BRUH. What kind of drug keeps you high for MULTIPLE DAYS??? After only one pill?????

Eiden's talking as if it's expected for him to still act loopy all these days later----

Oh shit, Was my theory from my first event post correct??? That this drug's effects last a really fuckin long time, which is why "occasional" use is enough to fuck up a person's body chemistry quickly???

That just makes me wonder even more; was the pill Kuya gave him really fake, or does it just not have much effect on someone with a ton of essence?

8) SEE, THIS IS WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!!!!

Ignoring others' influence on one's (in this case, Olivine's) decisions is stupid!!!! 😡😡😡

Peer pressure wouldn't be possible if that wasn't a truth of life!!!

And in this case, where Olivine was literally being threatened, suggesting that he alone is fully responsible for his temptation is, respectfully, bullshit. ♡

Fuck, man, Olivine is always way too hard on himself....

( • ᴖ • )

9) (⊙ᗣ⊙)

KUYA, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK????

I know this might be an urban legend, but honestly, it sounds like the sort of thing Past Kuya would do... The dude literally tore out the eyes of someone because they checked him out, after all....

Current Kuya has changed a lot, so I don't think something that grisly would be appealing to him, but.... the very idea that he once like that sort of thing is upsetting....

I also still strongly suspect that the "one survivor of the Trial" was the Master of Elysium....

A ton of weird vibes around this.

ཐིཋྀ End of report! ཐིཋྀ

[greyminyoon1]

LOST ON YOU

Warnings & Genre- slight angst, minor character death.

Authors note- hey, just something that was rotting in my notes. I am in no means a writer but constructive criticism are welcomed ☝🏼

——-

Funeral homes are never anyone's favorite. definitely not when its one of your own people. a person you had once held so close to heart, maybe not during that moment but you did soon realize the impact of thier presence in your life.

Mr.Jeong was a constant in every students life in Hanseong high school. you would see him by the gate,the corridors, the ground ,the man was omnipresent. students never got how he did it. even with his tough exterior he was one of the most loved teachers. the lack of space in the funeral home would say otherwise.

heesung watch's the crowd die down slowly from the corner of the hall. his eyes shift from the portrait of Mr.Jeong displayed on the wall to the three boys sitting across him. niki doesn't seem to have taken the news too well, his head hanging low with equally exhausted boys on the either side of him. sunoo’s swollen eyes and now puffed face give away the tears hes been trying to hold. jungwon just looks deep in his thoughts but heesung knows thats far from it.

heesung doesn't really know how to deal with their pain, let alone his own. his gaze shifts back to the portrait in front but his attention is taken away from the three boys now sitting in front of it. sunghoon catches heesung staring, returning it with the same intense glare.

---

Flashback

“jeong nim!”

the professor walks to the notorious dozen of students with a slight smile. it was always hard to bid farewell to the students every year especially the set of students who frequently visited detention or seen knee bent outside in the halls with their arms up bickering with one another. Though he thinks this batch would forever have a piece of him. While they bicker over who would be taking the picture first with their favorite teacher, few of them do not let the pooling eyes of their teacher go unnoticed.

“okay, lets stop and take a group picture now” , mr.jeong says blinking away his watery eyes. the eight kids scramble up smiling wide with the teacher in the middle of the frame.

click.

‘seonsengnim i need a single one!’, niki shoves the others away whilst pulling his teacher to another background. “your not even graduating until the next two years, you punk!”

click.

“jae-in ah!”, Mr jeong calls out motioning her to come take a picture with him with a stiff smile

her focus shifts from the subjects on her camera, peeking with a small ,“ aren't you getting too sentimental today seonsegnim?”, earning sinkers from the boys. she hands the camera over to sunghoon, making her way to Mr.Jeong.

click.

“dont forget to send those to me.”

who knew jae-in had plans of getting away with those pictures.

---

Jungwon’s the one who breaks this unsaid game of pride and encourages the eldest to just be civil. thats how the seven boys find themselves in a table drowning themselves in soju. the rooms almost empty, except for the seven boys and few other relatives. the boys looked up at each other once a while but mostly found the soju glass interesting enough to pour their thoughts into. With the past preoccupied on their mind, it was sort of a bittersweet moment.

—-

Flashback

the sound of crashing waves with occasional yells from the boys and the sweet melody of guitar strings fill the space, jae-in sits between sunghoon and jay watching rest of the boys play in the sea. she likes the feel of sand slipping away from her fists, mindlessly repeating the act while watching the boys. Sunghoon sits on her left drawing shapes on the sand as jay plays his guitar on her right.

“dinner is on me.” jae-in says in a monotonous tone. “your part-time jobs must be treating you well finally”, Sunghoon snickers while dusting off his hands and stands up to stretch.”im gonna take a dip, you both should join”, he knows very well you wont while his other friend may eventually. The pair watch him jog his way to the boys.

“is something up?”, Jae-in doesn't show how much that question affects her, answering him back with a question again, “what would be?”.

Jay has stopped playing the guitar, his one arm thrown over the instruments body while his other still hold the chords. Jae-in thinks about how fitting he looks with this instrument, maybe them joking about him becoming someone famous or getting into a band dint seem too far off.

Jay’s mind is preoccupied with what he had witnessed last night, the goons you were pouring drinks for seemed to be too familiar with your name for his liking. He never doubted you on your self defense skills, just maybe sometimes you should know to lean on someone, mentally. But when he looks at you at this moment, chocolate hair flowing with the wind, an oversized jacket which most definitely is from one of the boys and your bored eyes looking at him, He stutters.

“ju-just because”. He doesn't have it in him to question you further.

He should have.

He should have asked when you offered to take a dip in the sea.

They should have asked when you started recording every moment of the day.

They should have asked when you raised a toast on the dinner table.

They should have asked when you smiled a bit too wide.

They should have asked before you left.

They would have. you were just too convincing.

—-

They were all in a room, together yet so far apart on their train of thoughts.

The ticking of the clock passed by seconds to minutes to an hour or two, the empty room now consisting of only the boys. The tube lights flicker while the janitor mops the floors for the last time after a long day. It was a que for the boys to leave.

The clicking of boot soles grab the attention of the seven boys. Black sunglasses, black hanbok covers the new identity. Jae-in did not expect anyone to be here, let alone the seven boys she has never seen for the past few years. Or just maybe she was willing to try her luck.

Shes thanks the gods shes worn these ridiculously large glasses,though shes sure it wont take long for one of them to know.

Its almost plausible how the boys don’t recognize her immediately. to say the boys were shocked was an understatement. if the air was solemn and sad all this while, now the room felt as if it were was lacking of air circulation.

she acts plain, just another person to bid her goodbyes to. but Mr.Jeong wasnt just any person to her. Midst all the silent chaos in the room she makes her way towards her only family.

Mr.Jeong‘s portrait smiling at her doesnt help the guilt shes been bottling up. for all the things he had done for her in high school to even the last moments of his death. your uncle told you he would never resent you though you did not know if you had the ability not to resent yourself.

After what seems like an eternity of time and memories flashing back, Jae-in knows what she has to face as she turns towards the exit.

“i really dont know if we should be happy your alive or rip your hair off right now.”, niki’s coarse voice echo's off the hall.

[star-mum]

the ages in Teen Wolf make no fucking sense and the MTV writers made it MY ISSUES SPECIFICALLY

insane rambling (and very bad math) under the cut

I was thinking.... the Hales weren't recluses ??? (post fire Derek doesn't count, he's been through stuff) cause Derek went to highschool like normal ??? So WHYYYY (besides convenient writing) doesn't ANYONE REMEMBER THEM ??????

Like yeah Derek was older than the main cast, whatever, but CORA ????? SHE'S THEIR AGE ???? THEY PROBABLY ALL WENT TO PRESCHOOL TOGETHER ???? AT LEAST MIDDLE SCHOOL ????

SO !!! i have JUST NOW decided that Cora, Derek and Laura are 3 years apart from each other. "What about Talia and Peter?" you ask me and if you'd given me a FUCKING SECOND I'D TELL YOU !!! GEEZ !!!

Okay so IF we assume Peter is in his early 20s when Derek is in highschool considering ONLY the actor who played him in the Paige Flashback then okay, fine they're like almost 20 years apart BUT !!! Look at Peter now !!! LOOK AT HIM !!! THAT DIDN'T HAPPEN IN 4-6 YEARS (depending on how old you think s1 Derek is) (we'll get to that too, hold on) SO !!!! Im gonna ignore that weird casting choice and confidently give Talia and Peter a 13 years age difference, why ? you ask... idk sounds like a good number, I like things in 3s- WRONG !!! I DID EXTENSIVE MATH AND THINKING ON THIS !!!

We're gonna take some liberty here and assume Wolf Born Families are a bit traditional when it comes to kids and stuff SO Talia would've probably had her first kid in her very early 20s BUT we also need to consider that she was The Alpha of the house (and I refuse to believe Hale isn't HER family name) (OH ALSO !! Since the spark passed from her to Laura we can assume, cause I want to, that, at least, the Hale Pack worked as a matriarchy) which demands a lot of respect and work soooo I'm gonna go with her being about 24-25 when she had Laura

WHICH !!! Would've made Peter 11-12, which is not that different from the age gap he has with Talia, so he probably used to look at Laura much more as a sister than a niece (you know for the pain and suffering and drama) SO !!! when Derek was 15, Peter was 29-30 aaaand 29 makes the most sense to me, so I'd go with that!

Please dont get me started on the contradicting age of our "teen" cast !! Scott is 15 and then 18 in 10 months ???? Doesn't make sense !!!! So to ME the teen cast is all 17 in season 1 !!! except for Alison who's a year older and very understandably insecure about turning 19 and still being in highschool. And then in the span of 10 months we roll around to Scott's 18 birthday !! hooray time is linear !!!

All this to say, these are all people around the same age as our main characters AND THEY WERE PART OF THE TOWN !!!! HOW COME NO ONE REMEMBERS THEM ????

Even if we operate on the belief that Derek is, during season one, between 19-22 (which feels correct to me) that still makes the family fire NOT THAT LONG AGO (4-6 years) HOW COME PEOPLE ARE FORGETTING ABOUT IT ALREADY ????

Cora is the same age as EVERYBODY ELSE !!!! did they not go to middle school together ? do they not remember her ? who was she friends with ? Before Paige died Derek was very well integrated into High School culture, we have no reason to believe either of his sisters were homeschooled. Peter was a grOWN ADULT !!! I KNOW THE HALES WERE OLD MONEY RICH BUT DID HE NOT HAVE A JOB ???? DID HE NOT HAVE A LAW FIRM TO WORK AT ??? (recently came across a "Peter Hale had a law degree" post and it's canon to me forever now) Did Laura not pick up her siblings from school not a SINGLE DAY OF THEIR LIFE ????

OH !! WHICH REMINDS ME !! Derek said at some point that the fire happened when he and his sister were still at school and I'm pretty sure that was on s1 so he obviously meant Laura (i don't think the writers had Cora planned from the beginning, she was there to work in Erica's place) BUT !!! What if he did mean Cora, he walked his little 12 yo sister to school because he's Big Sister Laura (18 yo) was away for college at that time !!! And Kate had no choice but to leave those 3 out cause Laura wouldn't have come home without a good reason and Cora went to school at the time was Derek just a different building

This brings me to my (hopefully) final point: what the fuck is Deatons problem ???? He was Talia's emissary, he knew the pack inside and out and they very OBVIOUSLY KNEW HIM !!! HE WAS BESIDE THEIR ALPHA ALL THE DAMN TIME !!! How come Derek didn't recognize him ???? My vague memory on the dialogue between Deaton and Peter in s1 makes it seem like they Knew Each Other, in that ominous way... why didn't Derek ?? He wasn't a small child, he knew Deaton too, he could've remembered him ????

Again... things that feel like they were written into the plot only AFTER s1 aired

[targwh0re]

Thoughts of Teen Wolf the Movie while watching it pt.3

Coach!😃

Derek still sneaking around corners and just randomly appearing 😂 "🎶I always feel like somebody's watching me🎶"

Feel like Derek could scare Eli himself...give him that s1 Derek stare "I'm not afraid of you" 😠 "okay maybe I am afraid of you"

Eli is so me, clumsy af😭

Derek "😠" Hale

Malia! you can't just cut people open🤦‍♀️

Make the plan. Execute the plan. Expect the plan to go wrong...throw away the plan

Man Allison pulled a Derek 🏃‍♀️💨

Allison's tweaking dudes

Why the hospital lockers look like the ones at high school? Would've been coll if that was one of Nogi's illusions to manipulate her

She's very confused and is supposed to be very dead

Split up!?! One of the biggest rules in horror movies is to never split up

Cause a ball cap is such a good disguise 🧢👍

I got her 👊💥🤛💥🤜💥 I don't got her

"Fuck me man" me whenever my alarm wakes me up for school😭

Allison is karate kid 👍

"Scott Who?" ...oop

"Where's the alpha, I have to find the alpha." "What do you want with Derek Hale?" "No, not Hale. McCall. Scott McCall." Vibes. Oh no, now Braedon flashbacks for me😢

Where is Braedon?! She's supposed to be Eli's badass step-mama

Damn to be honest, I wouldn't have taken that. Woulda thrown them scissors back at that zombie bitch ✂️🧟‍♀️

Poor Argent, imagine the pain of seeing your daughter again after 11 years of her being dead and she runs away

Move, bitch! We know she's back, now let us go catch her🙄

But...isn't it your job to hear about the crimes...sheriff?

oh never mind😂

How didn't he know he was a kitsune? Wouldn't weird shit start happening to him like it did Kira? C'mon you can't tell me this man ain't never got his picture taken w/ the flash on before

Could've made him Hikari's family in some way to add some emotional depth for her and give her more ties to the pack

Or he could've been a host for Nogi like his dad I think? If his brother was that one dude wouldn't that make his dad the man who was possessed by Nogi during Chris's first gun deal?

"I don't want to kill you" oh really?👀

🎶I wish that I could wake up with amnesia🎶

So the hunter thingy place is still here but Monroe's peeps are gone🤨

"who are you🏹" "a friend👹" yea okay Pennywise🤚

Nogitsune: "time to hunt" Pennywise:"time to float" I rest my case

No i would not trust my mother who's a psychotic bitch, especially when she looking at me like I just took the last shrimp fried egg roll that she wanted to save for later😑

bitch so was you 30 minutes ago ⚰

Hey don't talk about my smexy dilf werewolf man Derek like that

Oop, that light was a paid actor

Omg I love Jackson 😂 I never thought I'd say that😶

hahaha Derek holding Eli like a baby

"Yes you did, I saw it🥺"

Man Derek such a good dad, got me all up I my feels

I wonder how Talia was as a parent, especially with Derek since he had such trouble learning control 🤔

Man, Allison honestly fuck you. You had to ruin a good father-son moment by trying to take off Eli's head smh I could never. Stay unproblematic people💅

Not the Chinese ring daggers

Honestly flashbacks to the supply closet when Allison told Isaac that. Hey, wait a minute...no one thought to tell Isaac that his late girlfriend is back (bc they were still together when she died)

"Allison?" No bitch it's Katniss🙄

Hey foul play! You shot my man's while his back was turned!! Now you turn around allison, it's my turn! Imma pull a Peter...Peter where u at, she attacking your fav nephew, Kate her ass

Yayy Liam

dude Hikari that was fire 🔥 (no pun intended 🤣; I'm so sorry guys)

Awww he don't even care if he's hurting himself worse, he just cares about his son🥺

Shut up, Scott! Let the man talk!

Damn Scott, couldn't even take my man's pain?

Everyone but Stiles, Isaac, Theo, Kira, Cora, Corey, Hayden, and Braeden... *clears my throat and looks directly at the camera*

The oni really said, "Suprise shawty!"

I knew I should've retired 🤣🤣

Awww first thing he said was his son's name

if this was a short series we totally should've got a scene of Eli, similar to the scene where Scott Howard first transforms in the og teen wolf movie, and then he just passes out. It would've been so funny😭

I'm sorry but the song that popped in my head when that oni floated down was 🎶I'm spinning like a ballerina🎶

Why's mason's gun sound like its popping popcorn

Sheriff Stilinski said, I can be a ninja toooo

Peter's entrance is iconic and so him, such a western-soap opra villain😂

Deaton and Chris:🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️

oh c'mon Peter, I thought we were past the whole throat slashing thing😬

How does Peter always know everything 🤔

Also I want to see Eli and Peter bonding, feel like they should have a relationship ay peast similar to when Derek and Peter were younger (hell I just want to see young Derek and Peter again, give me a Hale prequel)

Peter: "Is it me? Am I the drama?"

Ofc they have a plan Scott 🙄 not everyone just makes it up as they go and pretends that hunters aren't dangerous (that's always pissed me off about Scott, not everyone is redeemable)

Allison Argent that is a child

There's gonna be an explosion

There was an explosion

Jackson worried about his tail, please bye💀🤚

Would've been better if it was actually an illusion and not really Allison

You better hobble a little faster Eli

Oh, you can't hobbled fast but ur ass can climb

Me personally, I woulda stayed in that car

"Allison stop" bc that'll work🙄

Damn Scott pulled a Satomi, nice. Why he look confused though, you forget you have supernatural reflexes my guy?🤨

lmao not him trying negotiate as she shoots arrows at them

oh but what if I'm not a werewolf? Really Eli HALE?!

Pretty eyes though 😁

Run, Forest, run

"She's tryna get an arrow through you" Omg Eli is meee like fr Scott listen to the kid

"You faint at the sight of blood?!" "No, but I might at the sight of a chopped of arm!"

You think?!

Scott flashbacks, Eli's future partner is in that car "omg we almost hit someone" jk it's Sheriff Stilinski

Peter has a right to be filled with such anger, legit family was burned alove infront of him and was in a coma for 6 years, I would've been forever angry too bc that's not just something you get over

"Allison stOoOoOp" bc that worked so well last time

also backtrack to Chris saying that Allison wouldn't kill a 15 year old, what about Boyd and Erica? Legit grl went psycho in season 2 and I don't want to here and "Well Gerard..." She still did it

"sure lets talk" 🗡🗡🏃‍♀️💨 we have very different definitions of talking

Eli and Derek are the best part of this movie🥺

Hikari said, "I got one of those too mfs"🗡

Flashbacks to when Hayden got taken by the ghost riders 😭

Meanwhile in the Hale house:

Pt. 3- 5

[slickshoesareyoucrazy]

Reminding Me of Me

The past several weeks have been filled with a lot of uninvited family drama involving and basically created by my brother and his wife. J and I have been unfortunately and a bit involuntarily recruited to help subdue this drama. Of course, I don't want my brother's life to be unhappy and complicated, and J and I want to help alleviate those things when and if we can, but this suffering is almost entirely self inflicted. It's been very frustrating, especially considering the solid historical pattern of my parents using me to make my brother's life easier/better, and the historical pattern of all of them overlooking and dismissing me and taking me for granted. As I told a friend privately earlier this week, since my brother has been born, I've always been called upon to serve him or ignored in his favor.

My brother was born, and when he was 3 months old (I was 11.5), my grandmother, the person I was closest to in life to that point, passed away. In addition to the obvious, practically debilitating grief, I was also forced to leave the school district I'd grown up in to attend middle school somewhere more convenient for my parents (but mostly because of my brother). I didn't get much if any emotional support for any of this, because my brother was a newborn, and he outranked me. I became my brother's surrogate mother almost immediately. My mom worked 60-80 hour weeks, and when my dad went to work (once I was out of middle/high school for the day) to his second shift job, I was left solely in charge of my brother until my mom got home from her supposedly first shift job (but she regularly worked 12 hour shifts 5 days a week and some weekends, and brought work home with her too). I sacrificed a lot of social life opportunities and even one academic opportunity in order to fulfill the responsibility of caring for my brother. I attended a local college to continue doing this. I left my first job early if my brother had an emergency or if he needed to be checked on; not my parents. When I was a new mother, after a previous traumatic pregnancy loss, my parents didn't give me much support because that's when my brother was graduating high school and starting college, and he needed them then. More than I did, they presumed. On my 40th birthday, my brother moved in with his girlfriend (now his wife). We all spent the day (and were expected to spend the day) packing boxes and moving furniture for them. No one really even acknowledged that it was my birthday. This wasn't the first year my birthday was ignored, and it also wasn't the first year I was expected to cater to my brother's girlfriend (now wife) on my birthday. The year before that, I was told to change the restaurant and the time of day we'd go out as a family because 'she doesn't want to get ready that early for brunch.' When my brother got married, my mom cried at his wedding and his reception...she barely showed any sort of emotion at all at mine. My parents gave my brother a rehearsal dinner that was nicer than his wedding; helped do all of the 'wedding' stuff; were very involved. All they did for J's and my wedding was write a couple checks (that we cut as low as possible without offending people to be easier on them).

Now, I am getting ready to go back to work outside the home part time, for the first time in 10 years, and I have a minor surgical procedure coming up in a few days. My son just started 10th grade 2 days ago, and as everyone reading here probably knows, the start of 9th grade was nearly catastrophic to his mental health. My parents and my brother and his wife are aware (at least nominally) of all of these things. But the past several weeks have been spent solely focused on my brother and his needs instead (I know, big fucking surprise).

So I've been thinking the past couple weeks that I'm having flashbacks of living back at home with my parents, where I just don't even seem to matter, and my brother gets 100% of their care, support, and attention, and I'm expected to shift 100% of mine to him too. Over the past week or so, I've even asked J and my son questions like, 'You're real, right? Our life together is real? You're my real husband/son? We have a house and a dog, right? All of this is real, right?' Because I have to remind myself that I do exist, I do matter, I have built a life where I matter and am noticed and valued; a life separate from all those old expectations and shitty feelings of being ignored and overlooked and used. And last night, J and I went on a motorcycle ride while our son was with my parents, temporarily distracting them from the depressing and anxiety inducing concentration on my brother (my mom even admitted a few days ago that this is the first time in her life she's ever felt anxiety). J took me to the small town I spent my Pre-Brother childhood in. We visited with my godfather, probably the most consistently supportive adult presence in my life who's still alive. We only talked about our family and my godfather...not my brother at all. It was nice. We didn't do our normal 'date night' routine because of my upcoming surgery; in fact the date night wasn't our idea; it was my parents', because they 'needed' time with our son to like...have some stress free enjoyment and pride in their grandchild (for a change). But it was still a great date night. J helped remind me of me. That I am a person who matters, and me mattering is unrelated to my brother and my parents, and how I can be of service to them, or what their connection to or opinion of me is, in any way.

It felt really good to be reminded of me. I was a person of value and consequence before my brother came along. And I am a person of value and consequence now, in my own built life and my own family, without him. I'm me. And I matter. And it's sad that I have to remind myself of that still. But at least I can be reminded.

[tobiasdrake]

We're making bad choices. :D

Wait, is that Chrono Trigger influence I smell? We've got the party that stays externalized and follows you around, and turn-based RPG battles that happen right there on the map rather than in their own psychedelic wonder-zone.

This world map layout was the last piece I needed to say this game definitely took inspiration from the greatest RPG ever made.

I wonder if they have a New Game+ with a ton of goofy bonus endings based on when you decide to suddenly quit the main story and go fight the final boss instead. :P

In any case, Operation "Do what we're expressly not supposed to do and then brag about it to our authority figure" is a go!

But first we're going to have a bite to eat. Honestly, I agree with Garl. Right before getting into the most trouble of our lives is the best time for a snack.

And that sandwich looks immaculate. I'm a little jealous.

Oh wow, we are troublemakers, aren't we? These sandwiches weren't just good; They were sacrilegiously delicious! ...sacrilecious!

Okay, enough tasty treats, time to make mistakes.

HAHA! I am the best Winter Solstice whatever! This is going to prove to be a terrible mistake in a moment but right now I am riding this high. Let's race inside at a reckless sprint!

There's just something invigorating about, after much effort and practice, finally managing to complete a task you were expressly told not to do in the first place. Like scaling an office building on government property.

Oh good, so we're already in deep trouble. I was worried we'd have to go and tell him that we should be in deep trouble.

Nah, screw that. I want to do a good old-fashioned dungeon delve. Maybe we'll find a Big Chest that has a weapon inside of it. We can give it to Garl since he has no opinions about what weapon he wants.

LET'S GO, TEAM!

GOOD JOB, TEAM! We made it to the very first room and now we're screwed.

It occurs to me only now that, as all of our weapons are presently hypothetical, this may have been a mistake. I don't think the rainbow slugs are going to be very impressed if we lob Garl's backpack at them and run away.

They don't take a monster census in the forbidden cavern, Garl.

OKAY BUT HOW THO

That passageway is a straight shot to the entrance. It's a pretty tight passage with nowhere you could have been hiding while we were tromping through. It is physically impossible for you to be cutting off our exit right now, and I expect - nay, demand - that you cease any and all un-causal existing, and vacate from the impossible reality in which you have now found yourself.

...

Any minute now. Any. Minute.

Is it preparing to vanish in a puff of logic because otherwise--

That thing has a sharp horn pointed directly at the small of my back. This is going to be bloody. Why did I turn around?

GARL NO

I am immensely grateful to you for shielding me from that attack with your body. That was a super heroic thing of you to do and I appreciate you so very, very much.

But why did you use your face to block the horn!? You have a backpack, my guy!

We are in deep trouble. If we run deeper into the cave, we will most certainly be gored to death by monsters. But if we stay here, we have to face Moraine and own up to what we did.

...

I'm weighing my options.

Oh wow. And we're right back to screw Moraine. Can we seal the cave up behind us and leave him in here?

I want to give Garl the biggest hug and be besties for life for what he did for me. T_T But instead the future says we stop hanging out and never see him again. This flashback is ripping my heart in half.

Why do I get a bad feeling about that?

Our training began not on the basis that we have promise and the school recognizes our talent, but rather on the basis that we can no longer be permitted to go unsupervised.

We're the class screw-ups.

Well, at least he shows a more gentle side when he's not interacting with us, directly or indirectly. So maybe he's not a jerk. Maybe he just doesn't like us specifically.

Garl lost an eye and his two best friends all in one night. What a terrible night. That sandwich we all shared together is the last happy memory before everything went south. The symbol of our sacrelicious bond.

I hope he's doing better now. He's had ten years to move on with his life. People heal and grow and change. I'm sure we'll see him again; The game wouldn't be bringing him up if we weren't going to. But I hope he's in a good place and not, like, the Darth Vader of the plot.

"Go to your room and think about what you did FOR TEN YEARS" is a bit harsh of a grounding, dude.

And there it is again. Let people make their own choices! Obviously what happened here today was a terrible mistake committed in the ignorance of youth but come on. He wants to be our bestie so bad he sacrificed his eye for me. He's my gosh darned hero. T_T

[bl0w-m3]

Marijuana was the best thing to ever happen to me.

I had never tried it recreationally, I was a troubled kid but I stayed generally away from drugs. Starting freshman year of high school I started getting flashbacks and was diagnosed with severe PTSD (recently updated in my case to C-PTSD). Due to these flashbacks and the paranoia and panic that followed, I was unable to stay in school or even function day to day. I spent my days terrified and defeated, almost failing out of school. I was self h@rming, attempting to end my life, I had lost all hope.

I started researching. We tried different medications and therapy’s but nothing was making any progress; anything and everything was a trigger, NOBODY even knew where to start let alone how to help. Until somebody very close to me recommended I try marijuana. And my life changed.

Within weeks of starting to use marijuana the flashbacks were decreasing from every few days, to once a week, to once every few weeks and so on until it was maybe one every few months. My paranoia and panic was easily calmed by a small dose. At first I was not even taking enough too become intoxicated, it was the bare minimum to give me my life back.

As I got older and found my career, it was clear I was not going to be able to pass drug tests, which really put my life on hold once again. I tried to get clean, but very quickly the stress, the flashbacks, and the fear came rushing back. Quitting simply wasn’t an option. At this time I was still under 18, so a medical marijuana card was out of the picture as well in my state. I wound up becoming hospitalized with extreme intractable nausea, another symptom the marijuana greatly helped with, and was lucky enough to meet with amazing doctors at a renowned children’s hospital, who worked as hard as they could to find a solution. Everybody was hesitant when my parents and I mentioned the fact that marijuana was what worked, and explained our predicament( which I would be happy to explain to anybody interested), and because I was just so lucky, the doctors gave me a prescription; not for a medical card, but for a medicine called Marinol, and small little pill with THC in it that they actually give to chemo patients to treat intractable nausea. It was a wonder drug for the past 5 years; it helped with my nausea and my PTSD without getting high in situations when I needed it, and it helped me pass drug tests while still being able to stay on my medicine (because yes, I 100% believe marijuana is medicine).

Recently, my insurance stopped renewing my marinol because they needed a diagnosis of cancer, and with a new job around the corner and my health just finally back on track, I was devastated.

Thankfully, after doing everything in my power, my paperwork has been sent in for a official medical marijuana card :)

Plant medicine saves lives in so many situations. I hope the stigma continues to decrease about the use of marijuana (and mushrooms, but that’s another subject) because it really can change lives.

[mooskeleton]

🛑School Spirits Episode 7 Spoilers🛑

Okay so I have a theory, for those of y’all who don’t want to read that much just look for the timelines, also disclaimer not everything might be perfect info so feel free to correct me if I get something wrong :)!!!

In episode 7 we see Maddie’s mom, Sandra, sitting in her daughter’s room with a thick envelope. She’s clearly distressed in some capacity by it and decides to hide it in Maddie’s dresser. I think this is the money, and her hiding it in Maddie’s room is important.

Later, we see Simon and Nicole realize someone took the money, and Simon asks if Sandra followed her, to which Nicole reacts confused and a tad spooked, “why would Sandra take this money?”

This immediately triggers a bunch of blurry flashbacks and I think the scenes they show are important.

1. Sandra arriving at the school and hitting a curb, which was shown to us not long after Maddie reveals her mom is not supposed to be home for another 2-3 weeks (iirc).

2. Maddie reacting to the event, showing us that she is aware that her mother is back, first of all, but more importantly that she showed up at the school for some reason. It is revealed in one of the episodes that Sandra was not exactly involved in her daughter’s education so her showing up at the school, even if you ignore her supposedly being gone another 2-3 weeks. So, Maddie sees her mom show up at school weeks early and clearly in a bad state (potentially drunk driving) so she is likely concerned.

3. Maddie walking down the hall looking upset or stressed about something, all while playing with her necklace emphasizing that she had it as she walked toward this destination. I doubt the directors would’ve told her to do this if it weren’t important in some way, as it is a short scene that is very plot heavy so it needs to convey its intended message in a small period of time, so why give attention to something unimportant? She is also, quite clearly, in the school.

4. Maddie and her mom argue. The first time I saw this I assumed it was just a flashback to a fight at home but as I thought about it I realized there is no evidence of this. Despite the previous 3 scenes being fairly linear, I just assumed this one had nothing to do with them. But if her mom is at home, why is she wearing what looks like a coat, and why is Maddie in the outfit she died in throughout this sequence? So, hear me out, this is in the school.

The most important part of scene 4 to me is the dialogue, which is the explanation for a huge aspect of my timeline I’ll provide later. It goes like:

Sandra: You’re being a brat!

Maddie: that belongs to me!

Sandra: you have to get over it!

Sure sounds like that might be related to the money that the episode is so focused on, huh?

My theory’s interpretation of this flashback sequence is a prelude to Maddie’s death. While this show doesn’t shy away from darker topics, it has never shown a death scene, rather the build-up and aftermath (which I very much appreciate, but that’s another thing entirely lol) and I doubt they would start right before the big finale, so I think this is the prelude. The timeline would go something like:

1. Maddie realizes her mom is back early, not only that but is at her school (unusual) and might be drunk (alarming)

2. Maddie goes to find her mom, who is very much drunk, and freaks out that someone might see her mom like this so she somehow gets the two of them into the first secluded room she can think of in the middle of a school day: the boiler room.

3. Maddie’s mom reveals the reason she is there is because she found out about the money and wants to use it to pay off debts she’s accumulated over her years of being an alcoholic who clearly is not able to care for herself enough to get a stable job.

4. Maddie, rightfully upset and frustrated, argues that since the money is hers, her mom has no right to take it, and probably provides the many reasons a high schooler aiming for a big university needs money.

5. In a fit of drunken rage, Sandra injures her enough to draw a considerable amount of blood and knock her over. Maybe she uses the crowbar?

6. Out of shock, Sandra runs off, and her brain blocks out the memory through a mixture of how drunk she was and blocking it out because it was traumatic. She is more determined than anyone that Maddie ran away because she’s mad at her, maybe because she’s aware something happened between them but is unaware of the true nature of it all.

I think at some point she takes Maddie’s necklace, because she knows it’s important to her daughter. Why would someone else take the necklace? Idk, I can’t figure this one out but the mom makes the most sense for a potential necklace thief

Here’s where my theory kinda becomes two, sorry

7A. Maddie dies at the hands of her mom.

8A. The counsellor is a ferryman of sorts but has become lonely and jaded and doesn’t want people to move on because it means he’ll be alone again so he intentionally keeps info from them and holds them back.

Where my theory gets foggy is with Maddie’s death. By that I mean how Maddy was hit with a crowbar and dragged through a tunnel to hide the body. Maddie’s mom is not a good person, but I don’t believe she’s a monster who would hit her daughter with a crowbar and hide the body, especially since she’s been shown multiple times to be unable to care for herself or remember things or even clean up after herself. What reason would she have to use the crowbar? How could she have planned a disposal in the state i theorize she was in?

Sandra does seem to show genuine anger towards the janitor suspected of harming her daughter, and while you could argue she did that on purpose to make her sadness believable, with how distraught and mentally frail she is I really doubt she’s capable of scheming at that level right now.

That’s where the counsellor dude comes in. He’s clearly not good, and something is up with him. He seemed almost desperate to know more when it was slightly hinted that Maddie may have contact with the living, and that leads me to wonder if the ghosts may be capable of more, but are unable to find that out because from day one you’re encouraged to leave the living alone and focus on the sessions, and don’t forget, nobody can interact with the living!

Also, a thing I want to point out bc it’s important to the next part is how nobody, more importantly none of the ghosts, were there when Maddie died and her whole situation is iffy, but when the swimming girl almost dies there’s a bunch of ghosts around, so nobody (the counsellor) can mess with her spirit because of the witnesses.

So to continue my timeline, though this part I’m less sure of;

7. The counsellor sees an opportunity to do something when Maddie is on the brink of death and nobody is around.

8A. The counsellor somehow manipulates the physical world of the living and hides her body somewhere

8B. The counsellor either out of cruel curiosity experimentation or a desperation to help has Janet take over Maddie’s body, somehow kill Maddie out of her body with the crowbar, then take over her body and run off with her stuff into the woods in some abandoned house.

Idk what the motive would be for either of these but hey it’s just a theory, a gam-

So basically,

Sandra injures Maddie, the counsellor is heavily involved. Janet will be important later.