#glad to know im not alone with these opinions

[theninth09]

Oh Liam totally has PTSD 100% especially after season six, we even see more of it in the zoo when Liam literally sees Brett hurting him, and while we can argue that’s guilt I don’t actually believe that hasn’t happened before.

I think the fans and writers sometimes (not necessarily on purpose) excuse Liam’s mental instability and self-loathing/harm with stage fact he’s a werewolf, “oh, he literally just cut into his own palms so that they’re pouring blood… it’s fine he’s a werewolf he’ll heal”

There is nothing more beautiful to me than Theo and Liam seeing each other and understanding the other despite everyone else’s hesitation towards the two. Both no what it’s like to be feared and both are the exception to each other.

yup! tw isnt really the show for this, i guess, bc theres so much trauma they put the characters through and then just.. kinda forget about that? theres a lot of untouched potential with the storylines they start, for sure. and they love to play liams character off as the comedic relief, which i Hate. that scene in s5 where liam tells scott to punch him so he'll get angry??? haha funny and werewolf logic and whatever but how fucked up is that? liam offering himself as a punching bag, probably thinking hes useless if it wasnt for his anger? and this is in s5b so he feels horribly guilty about having tried to kill scott. sure, he needs to get angry so he'll get strong in that situation, but he 100% thought he deserved getting punched by scott.

and the zoo scene, oh boy. i personally do not think that that was just liam hallucinating something that never happened/that he was only projecting his guilt or whatever. that episode is named "triggers". theo, word for word, says: "something around here is triggering you." why would they focus that much on something TRIGGERING liam when its not something that actually happened to him. idk about you, but that makes zero sense to me. and its not like its out of line for bretts character to have done something like that. (personally hate when people erase this part of bretts character because it automatically takes away from liams character. like sorry that this random guy that you like for reasons unbeknownst to me is an asshole, at least own up to it and dont pretend he isnt as big of a dick as he canonically is.)

(^ i say, with theo as one of my favorite characters. im aware that hes an asshole. i do not care. im not pretending that he isnt.)

the brief focus on the warning sign about "dangerous animals" above the cage (reminder that this happened before liam was a werewolf) and liam begging scott, saying "they can't see me like this" and scott finishing "like a monster?" during his first full moon. yeah. liam has thought of himself as a monster long before he got bitten. that boy has serious self-worth issues and a bunch of trauma.

theo and liam helping each other through their trauma, recognizing the other's pain and seeing themselves in each other is so important to me. an aspect i love to focus on.

[tamaharu]

okay thats interesting! in the SF try-outs during the song "legally blonde" she sings about how she cant be legally blonde, while in the official version AND THE DEMO she sings about letting her be legally blonde. which means that at some point they changed the lyrics around, and then changed them back! laurence o'keefe.... nell benjamin.... what occurs in your twisted minds

[coffeeshades]

credits to the gif maker!

GUILTY AS SIN...? - PART I

summary: one summer with the man you can't have, but can't stop thinking about.

pairing: cillian murphy x popstar!reader

word count: 5.5k

warnings: 18+ (minors dni). mentions of sex. angst. cussing, slight age gap, mentions of alcohol and divorce. no use of y/n, heavily inspired by ts and ttpd. if i missed something please let me know. (also this is a work of fiction, none of it reflects how i feel about the people mentioned in this, most importantly cillian's wife, who im sure is a sweetheart irl. it's fiction, just relax and enjoy it, and if not, move along, friends.)

a/n: hi everyone! this turned out pretty long so i will be splitting it into parts so it's easier. next part will be posted soon. i hope you all have as much fun reading this as i had writing it. enjoy!

part two

The breeze riffled through your hair as you drove, the sun warming your skin through the open windows. The Irish countryside stretching out before you, lush and green, with rolling hills and quaint villages dotting the landscape. The scent of wildflowers and the sound of nothing but the wind in the trees filled your senses.

It was rare, really. The silence, the feeling of complete freedom, and the solitude that enveloped you. A fleeting escape from the chaos of your everyday life.

The ping of your phone interrupted the peaceful moment. You tapped on the pop-up notification after briefly glancing at the directions to your destination. It was a message from Cillian. Well, two, actually. One was asking how far you were, and the other was a Spotify link followed by a question mark. Ever since he started hosting his bbc radio show, he's been sending you potential songs for his playlists to get your opinion. Not that he needs it anyway. But you always appreciate being included in his process.

Your lips curled into a smile as you clicked on the link. The familiar sound of The Blue Nile's "The Downtown Lights" flooded the car, instantly making you feel a wave of nostalgia. It's been ages since you've listened to that song. The synth-pop melody carries you up the pine-dotted path to where his house perches atop a hill, overlooking the crashing waves below. You've been here a couple of times, and yet it never gets less breathtaking. The Victorian architecture contrasting beautifully with the rugged coastline, creating a scene straight out of a painting.

The car glides right past the wrought iron gates, and you cut the engine in front of the stone steps leading up to the grand entrance. You shoot Cillian a quick text letting him know you're here, unbuckle your seat belt, and hop out of the car.

The June sun beats down on your skin instantly, heat radiating off the cobblestones as you open the backdoor to look through your bag for a hair tie. The smell of saltwater mingles with the sound of gulls overhead, sending you into sensory overload. "Gotcha," you mutter to yourself as you finally find the hair tie and pull your hair back into a loose bun.

"You drove here?" you hear him call out from behind you, his voice tinged with surprise. "And you're alone?" you turn around to see Cillian walking towards you, a curious expression on his face.

"I actually had to throw a tantrum to convince them to let me come alone," you reply with a chuckle, feeling a sense of pride at your small victory. "I was like, It's Ireland. What's the worst that could happen?"

Being who you are means being guarded against any potential danger or harm at all times, being driven to almost everywhere, and always having a security team around.

Cillian laughs, a sound that makes your heart flutter and makes you want to hear it again and again. "Well, I'm glad you made it here in one piece, love," he says with a grin. "You're not a very good driver."

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment. You did regret your decision to drive from the airport 10 minutes later when you realized you were on the wrong side of the road. But he didn't need to know that.

"I made it in one piece, didn't I?" you playfully retort, trying to salvage your wounded pride. Cillian chuckles and shakes his head with a twinkle in his eye. You stare at each other for what feels like an eternity. He looks good, you thought. Unbelievably good. Well rested. His jet black hair was perfectly styled, even though you know he didn't put any effort into it—the slightest hint of silver at the temples, his sharp jawline, and those piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right through you. Though they looked a little tired, as if he had been through a lot since the last time you saw him.

You quickly avert your gaze, feeling a rush of heat on your cheeks.

"It's good to see you," you finally manage to say, trying to sound casual. Cillian's smile softens, and he replies, "It's good to see you too." He opens his arms, inviting you in for a hug. The soft fabric of his t-shirt brushes against your skin as you embrace him, and for a moment, everything feels right in the world.

"Come on, let's get inside," he says, leading you towards the house. Once inside, you make your way to the kitchen. The house was quiet; you wondered if anyone else was home. Cillian's family wasn't by any means loud or boisterous, but the silence felt heavier than usual.

"You hungry, love?" Cillian asks, opening the fridge, pulling out a white ceramic container, and setting it up on the kitchen island. You take a seat on one of the stools while he stands across from you.

"For something sweet?" you smile, seeing the container filled with what seems to be a piece of strawberry sponge cake. His mom must've made it. "Always," you reply. He hands you a spoon and takes one for himself, the two of you sharing the dessert in comfortable silence.

Until he broke it.

"How was Madrid?" he asks softly.

"It was good, great crowd," you reply, taking another bite of the dessert. "But tiring," you add, feeling the exhaustion of the long trip settling in.

"How many nights did you perform?"

"Four."

"Jesus, that's quite a lot, isn't it?"

Your eyes meet his; confusion clear in your expression. "You think that's a lot? Didn't you used to do four or five nights in a row of the same play?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. "for months…?

"Yeah, but that was a different kind of exhaustion," he explains, taking another bite. "Performing the way you do in front of a live audience for three hours is a whole different ball game, love."

Love.

There it was again. That godforsaken term of endearment that he seemed to throw around so casually. It made your heart race every time he said it, even though you knew it probably meant nothing to him. But the way he looked at you now, with a hint of admiration in his eyes, made you wonder if maybe—

"Want the last bite?" he offered, taking you out of your thoughts. He pushed the container towards you, a small smile playing on his lips. His gaze was intense, as if silently urging you to take it.

"Oh, hello," a voice exclaimed from behind you, breaking the moment. You drop the spoon on the counter, a little startled. As if you were caught in the act of something forbidden. You turned around to see Yvonne, Cillian's wife. She said your name with a surprised tone, making you feel guilty for some reason. "I didn't know you were here," she continued, her eyes flickering between you and her husband.

You started to rise from your seat, confusion clouding your thoughts. That's weird. Cillian usually lets his wife know when you're visiting, but this time it seems like he didn't. She walked towards you, enveloping you in a hug. "When did you get here?" she said.

"Not long ago," you replied, relieved that she didn't seem upset. "I, uh, wanted to take a break and thought Ireland might be a good place to do that," you added, hoping to diffuse any tension that may have arisen. She nodded understandingly. "And you're staying here?"

"Oh, no, no," you quickly assured her. "I rented a place nearby, so you don't have to worry about me."

"Nonsense," Cillian interjected. "You can stay here. There's plenty of room."

"She's already paid for it, Cillian," Yvonne retorted, giving him a stern look.

Something was definitely off.

This was the last thing you wanted. You've specifically chosen the cottage for two reasons. First, to have space. The whole point of this trip was to finally have peace and write music. You've been stuck for months, not being able to find inspiration in your usual surroundings. Everything felt dull inside you all day—an emptiness that was smothering.

Second, you needed to stay the fuck away from Cillian. Being close to him was dangerous territory, one you didn't want to navigate right now. The plan was to come and visit and occasionally hang out and that's it. The thought of being in such close quarters with him was overwhelming. Staying here meant risking your heart and sanity.

You hesitated, also not wanting to intrude on their space, but Cillian insisted.

"Okay…How about if I stay for a couple of days and then move to the cottage?" you suggested, hoping to compromise. "Sounds perfect to me," he said.

This was going to be a long summer.

For the next few days, you dream too much, don't write enough, and try to find inspiration everywhere. As you settled into the routine of staying at Cillian's, you found yourself enjoying the peaceful surroundings and his company more than you expected. The days seemed to blend together, filled with laughter, deep conversations, and stolen glances that left your heart racing.

But you also felt constantly distracted by his presence, making it difficult to focus on your writing or anything else, for that matter.

All you could think about was him.

The piano room surrounded you with its warm, inviting atmosphere, and you found yourself drawn to it more often than not. The big windows overlooking the garden let in streams of sunlight, casting a warm glow over the bookshelf. You felt the softness of the carpet as you sat on the grand piano bench, running your fingers along the keys absentmindedly.

You started humming a tune that had been stuck in your head for days, the words appearing softly and effortlessly as you played:

Please

I've been on my knees

Change the prophecy

Don't want money

Just someone who wants my company

[Hum, Hum, Hum]

Who do I have to speak to

About if they can redo

The prophecy?

The humming went on whenever you didn't know what to say next, filling in the gaps between the notes on the piano and the lyrics:

A greater woman has faith

[Hum, Hum, Hum]

I'm so afraid I sealed my fate

No sign of soulmates

I'm just a paperweight

[Hum, Hum, Hum]

Spending my last coin so someone will tell me

It'll be ok

[Hum, Hum, Hum]

The melody filled the room until you stopped abruptly, frustrated that the lyrics weren't coming as easily as before. You closed your eyes with a groan, trying to clear your mind. "Fuck," you muttered under your breath, elbows resting on the keys of the piano.

"You good?" Cillian's rough voice broke through your frustration, causing you to look up and offer a weak smile. You don't know how long he's been standing there or how much he heard of your struggles. "Just hitting a wall with this song," you admitted, running a hand through your hair.

"Ah, I see," he nodded sympathetically. He moved towards the records stacked on the shelf and pulled one out, placing it on the turntable. "I don't want to mess with your creative process or anything, but maybe a break with some music will help," he suggested.

Radiohead's "Fake Plastic Trees" began to play, taking over the room with its haunting melody.

"So you play one of the saddest songs ever?" you deadpanned, "Thanks."

He chuckled softly, "You were playing some pretty intense stuff; I figured it would fit right in."

Oh, so he did hear you.

"Ah, I know it's different from my usual stuff," you said quietly, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious about your music. "I might scrap that one. They might not be onboard with the change."

"And why's that?"

Thom Yorke's voice faded into the background as you contemplated his question, unsure of how to respond.

You shrugged, "I listen to sad music, not make it."

"I liked what I heard," he reassured you, "and change is good. It keeps things interesting."

His low voice was soothing, and you found yourself feeling more at ease with the idea of trying something new. Pop has been your comfort zone for so long, it's what stands out of you, but most importantly, it's what sells. At least, that's what's important to the industry. Maybe it was time to push yourself out of it.

"I guess you're right," you replied, a faint smile creeping onto your face.

"As always," he said, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes. He stood leaning against the table where the record player sat, arms crossed, looking as if he had too many things to say and not enough words for them.

"Would this be a good time to ask you if everything's okay?" you inquired, noticing the weight of unspoken thoughts in his eyes. "With Yvonne, I mean," you added, nervous to bring up the topic.

That first day, when you arrived at the house, you could sense there was something going on between them. Something bad. The tension in the air was so obvious, but you didn't want to pry. However, as the days went by, it became increasingly difficult to ignore the fact that she hadn't been around or the absence of a certain ring on his finger.

"And here, I thought you were never going to ask," he replied, his words laced with sarcasm.

"I was waiting for you to bring it up," your voice trailed off, unsure of how to proceed. "I-I didn't want to overstep."

He studied you for a moment, or at least, you assumed that was what he was doing. Finally, he averted his gaze and cleared his throat,"We've separated."

A cold feeling settled in your chest as you processed his words. The reality of the situation hit you like a ton of bricks, and suddenly everything made sense. "Cillian," is all you managed to say, the concern evident in your voice.

He still wouldn't look at you. Knowing him, in moments like this, he wouldn't want to be coddled or pitied, so you save your apologies for later.

"What happened?"

He waved his hand dismissively, still avoiding your gaze. "Nothing, really," he said, his tone final. He didn't look upset, but rather resigned to the situation. "It hadn't been working for a long time; we both knew it was coming. I guess we were holding on for the boys more than anything." You could see the sadness in his eyes, despite his attempt to appear nonchalant. The weight of his words hung in the air, leaving you feeling defeated and unsure of what to say next. You don't think there's anything you can say that will make this or him feel better.

And boy, did you wish you could take away his pain with just a few words.

Cillian walked slowly over the piano, stopping in front of it. He streched his arms over the wooden soundboard, gripping the edges tightly as if seeking some sort of solace in the instrument. He finally looked at you.

"Why didn't you say anything, Cill?" you asked softly, "I would've—"

"You would've what?" he interrupted, his voice strained with emotion. "I didn't want to worry you, you have more important things than my marital issues."

You could see the pain in his eyes, and it tore at your heart to see him suffering in silence. "You're my friend. These things are important to me, Cill," you said gently, reaching out to touch his hand in a gesture of comfort. He flinched slightly at your touch, but then relaxed, leaning into your hand.

He didn't say anything, but you knew he appreciated your words. You could tell by the way his shoulders slumped in relief and the way his fingers loosened their grip on the edge of the piano.

One morning, you woke up to the wind gently rustling through the trees outside your windows. The morning light was clear and clean, leaking through the glass and falling against the walls of the room in soft patterns. It felt too early to be awake, too peaceful to disturb the tranquility of the moment.

You roll over to look at the little clock on the bedside table: 6:20 AM. It wasn't worth trying to go back to sleep, so you threw the covers and climbed out of bed, feeling the cool wood floor beneath your feet as you walked to the bathroom.

You splash cold water on your face and brush your teeth, trying to wake yourself up fully. Holding up your hair, you tie it into a ponytail while walking over the bedside table to grab your phone and airpods. You put one in your ear and hit shuffle on one of your morning playlists. You couldn't function without some music. "Keep On Loving You" by Cigarettes After Sex starts playing.

On your way to the kitchen, you walked by Cillian's room and noticed the door was slightly ajar. Who the hell sleeps with their door open? Psychos, probably. Curiosity getting the best of you, you peeked inside to see him sprawled out on his bed, body illuminated by the soft morning light filtering through the curtains—characteristic warm and cool shades revealing every hollow and speck of bare muscle. He slept with every limb stretched out, a stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor. It was a rare sight, quite poetic.

He looked so peaceful, completely unaware of your presence. So you let your mind wander.

You imagined yourself crossing the room, pulling yourself on top of him. You imagined the way his bare body would look beneath you, his chest rising and falling with each breath, his dark hair messy around his face, his skin warm against yours. His hands—rough and soft at the same time—running over your thigh, your breast, your neck. You could almost feel the heat of his touch, the intensity of his gaze as he looked up at you.

But then reality snapped back into focus.

"Fuck," you muttered under your breath. This was just a fantasy, a dangerous game to play with someone who was somewhat off-limits. But truth be told, the temptation was becoming harder to resist with each passing moment. It was all you could think about ever since he told you about his troubled marriage.

It took a long time for your heartbeat to slow. You headed to the kitchen to get some coffee, hoping that the caffeine would help clear your mind. As you rummage through the cabinets for a mug, his voice startles you from behind. "Need some help with that?" he asks, making you jump.

For a moment you thought you were still imagining things, but you turn around to see him standing there with a t-shirt on as opposed to five minutes ago. Great, him walking around shirtless in his kitchen, sleepy-eyed, messy hair, and rough morning voice would've been lethal.

"I've got it, thanks," you reply, shaking the mug slightly in your hand. You quickly pour yourself some coffee and try to focus on the task at hand: looking for the sugar.

"Sleep well?" he asks, voice still husky from sleep, his accent more prominent. He's rifling through the cabinet for a mug of his own. You can't help but notice the way his muscles flex under his dark t-shirt as he reaches up. You hum in agreement, trying to hide your blush as you take a sip of your coffee. "You?"

"Grand," he replies, pouring himself a cup of coffee and leaning against the counter. You exchange small talk about the upcoming day, but your mind keeps drifting back to how good he looks in the morning light.

"Any plans for today other than locking yourself in the piano room?" he teases, and you shoot him a playful glare. "Maybe I'll actually venture outside for once," you quip, laughing.

"How does the beach sound like?" he asks, "The boys are coming over, and they're bringing some friends, and I thought a trip would be a nice change of scenery."

"I could use some sun," you admit, feeling a smile tug at your lips.

"Let's make it a beach day then," he suggests, setting his mug on the sink. "We leave at 10, piano woman."

"Ha ha, very funny," you say sarcastically, rolling your eyes. "But I'll hold you to it, annoying man," you reply.

"Annoying man?" he repeats, raising an eyebrow. "I thought I was your favorite person."

"Only on days that end in 'y'."

•••

"Are you done with your sad boy music?"

Cillian bursts out laughing, the sound taking you by surprise. He's been playing Radiohead on repeat for the whole car ride, and you were starting to feel like you were in a melancholy music video. "I like their music as much as the next person, but I think I need a break from the sadness," you say.

"Fine, fine," Cillian concedes, reaching for his phone to change the song. The bleak atmosphere in the car lifts as "Linger" by The Cranberries starts playing, filling the space with a more pleasant vibe. Cillian glances at you, he's wearing dark shades that hide his eyes, but you can still see his stoic expression softening as he catches you smiling at the change in music.

"Better?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Instead of answering, you start silently singing along to the lyrics, gesticulating dramatically for added effect. Cillian smiles at your antics, his own lips twitching in amusement as he watches you. The boys were so caught up in their conversation with their friends in the backseat that you were pretty sure they weren't even paying attention to the music or your impromptu performance. With a small smile on your face, you face out the window and enjoy the rest of the car ride in content silence.

When you arrive at your destination, all of you unbuckle your seat belts once Cillian puts the Bronco in park. You all pile out of the car, stretching your legs and taking in the sights around you. You close your eyes for a second and take a breath. The sea air—you loved that smell.

•••

A few hours later, after countless swims and some snacks, you find yourself lying on a beach towel, book in hand, feeling the warmth of the temperature on your skin. You're reading a book you picked up at an airport several months ago by Elin Hilderbrand, or the queen of beach reads, as many call her. You were completely engrossed in the story until you felt Cillian settling down next to you.

His hair was damp from the water, and his skin was slightly glistening. Gosh, he looked absolutely stunning. "Mind if I join you?" he asks.

"Not at all," you reply, closing the book and sitting up. "Having fun?"

"Lots," he says with a smile, reaching over to grab his sunglasses. The two of you sit in comfortable silence. The laughter and chatter of his sons and friends coming from the water redirects your attention back to the beach scene before you. You look back at Cillian, his eyes fixed on his sons.

"They love you, you know," you say softly, watching the genuine joy on his face as he watches his children.

"I don't know if I'm doing it right," he says, eyes still fixed on the boys. "I worry I might've fucked them up by letting my relationship with their mother fall apart."

He continues, "Sometimes I feel they resent me for it."

"Why do you feel that way?"

"I don't know, they just seem distant sometimes. Like they're holding back."

"Hey, that's normal for kids to have mixed feelings about their parents' separation. I was so happy when mine got divorced because it meant no more fighting, but it was also tough to adjust to the changes. It's very conflicting stuff," you say, huffing a small laugh. "Also, they're teenagers now, right? That's a tough age to navigate even without the added stress of divorce."

Cillian nods in agreement, exhaling out a yeah.

You squint against the sunlight beaming behind his head before continuing.

"You're a great dad, you always have been. Just show up and be there for them when they need you, even if they don't always seem to appreciate it. They'll remember it in the long run," you offer, remembering how much your own father's presence meant to you after your parents' divorce. "And I'm not a parent, but what parent feels like they're doing everything right all the time, anyway?"

Cillian turns to look at you. He studies your face for a moment before offering a small smile. "I guess you're right," he says sincerely.

"Fork found in kitchen," you retort, breaking the tension with a bit of humor.

He chuckles, "That's clever."

"Well," you continue, "I've been accused of many things over the years, but being unoriginal isn't one of them."

He laughs. Just like he did back in the car: a genuine, carefree laugh that makes you feel a little lighter.

"Want to go for one last swim, piano woman?"

You roll your eyes. "Will you stop calling me that?"

"Not likely," Cillian replies with a grin. "It's too fitting."

You stand up and stretch. You're wearing a one-piece teal-ish swimsuit that you swear you only chose based on comfort and not because it makes your ass and breasts look fantastic. Cillian's eyes linger on you for a moment before he looks away, and you swear you can see a hint of a blush on his cheeks. He doesn't move.

"Are you coming or…?"

"Right, one last swim," he finally says, standing up and following you towards the water.

Maybe that one last swim wasn't a great idea after all.

And why is that?

Because not even five minutes into the water, you thought it would be a good idea to jump from a high rock, and now you're sitting in the car with your knee scrapped, throbbing in pain, and regretting your impulsive decision.

•••

"You're so fuckin' stubborn."

You try to move into a more comfortable position while ignoring the pain shooting up your leg by pressing a hand against one side of the door to keep yourself steady. "And you're so clearly overreacting."

Cillian pushes his bedroom door open. He's also clearly pissed. The ride back to the house was deathly silent. Well, not silent. His sad boy music made a return, and this time with Broken Social Scene. You couldn't ask him to change the music without starting another argument. Even the kids were quiet, beyond asking several times if you were okay, which you assured them you were. Obviously a lie.

As Cillian walks around the room, you reach for your midi white beachy dress and look down at your knee in horror. It's no longer just a bruise, but a gash that is slowly oozing blood. Not as much as before, but still. It looks nasty underneath the shirt Cillian used from his car as a makeshift bandage.

He grabs the first aid kit from a shelf and turns around to face you.

"Take off your dress."

"Pardon me?"

"Take off your dress so I can properly clean and bandage the wound," Cillian repeats, his expression serious. You look down at the blood-stained fabric as if you needed any more confirmation. "Off, C'mon."

You stiffen at his demand, your body going completely rigid at his bossy tone. You watch him stride into his bathroom. He pushes aside some stuff on the counter and tosses the kit onto the counter.

Okay, yeah. He has good reason to be upset. You had no business jumping from that rock.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he'd said before, right when he went to get you. And now you can see the anger still simmering beneath the surface.

You can hear him shuffle in the bathroom while you remove your dress. You still have your swimsuit on underneath, but you feel exposed without the extra layer. Maybe the pain is catching up to you or the fact that you have upset him or that he's waiting for you in the bathroom to take care of you but tears sting your eyes as you try to process the situation. You take a moment to collect yourself. You cannot go in there like this, he cannot see you this vulnerable. At least, not now.

He's braced against the counter, head hung low, when you push open the bathroom door. You nearly back out to give him some space or time to compose himself, but his eyes meet yours and his expression straightens. He clears his throat and then freezes. "I—you're wearing your swimsuit."

"I am. Were you expecting me to change into something else?"

"No," he grumbles, "I mean, nevermind."

He turns back and starts grabbing sterile gauze, his movements slightly jerky. He gestures for you to sit on the counter. "Up."

"I'm not sure I can do that given my—" Before you're done speaking, he scoops you up and sets you on the counter. Your hands are locked around his neck, and his are firmly gripping your waist. They fit perfectly there, like they're made to hold you close.

He reaches behind him, both your faces close together now, and grabs your wrists, pulling them away from his neck and onto your thighs. He puts a hand on your uninjured leg, his touch gentle yet firm. "This is going to hurt." You stare at his impossible blue eyes and think to yourself: yes, this is going to hurt.

"Oh, shit shit," you gasp, gripping his forearm. "Holy fuuuck."

"I've got you, breathe," he commands, and you allow yourself to focus on his voice, letting it ground you. The antiseptic burns both your nostrils and knee as he continues to clean the wound, the pain shooting through your leg causing you to clench your teeth.

"I'm sorry," you breathe out.

There's nothing but silence in response.

"I told you multiple times not to go up there," he finally says, his voice tinged with frustration. "And yet."

"I know," you whisper, feeling guilty.

"Don't do that again," he commands, his accent thickening with emotion. "You could've hurt yourself even more."

"I know," you repeat, not sure how else to respond.

His head is bowed in concentration as he finishes cleaning the wound, his hands steady despite the anger in his voice. You can see his dark eyelashes fluttering slightly as he works. He applies a little more pressure to the bandage than he should've, and you let out a soft moan. This doesn't go unnoticed by him.

The air in the room seems to shift. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you see something soften in his gaze before he looks away.

"You're not supposed to like that."

Your cheeks heat up immediately.

He's gotten closer to you, your hands somehow made their way to fist his navy blue linen shirt. His body is between your legs, the delicate material of his pants brushing your skin. His breath is warm against your cheek as he leans in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I can't say I mind it either." Your heart races at his proximity, unsure of what to do next.

His hands slide up your thighs, gently caressing your skin, sending shivers down your spine. He's going to kiss you, and you can't help but wonder if it's the right decision to let him.

But now is not the time to be rational about it.

"I'm not gonna stop you," you say quietly, "I wouldn't know how."

His eyes darken, pupils dilating with desire. He doesn't move.

It's like you're both aware of the line you're about to cross, so neither of you moves.

You keep your eyes firmly on his face. His lips inch closer to yours, and you feel the heat of his breath on your skin. Your body is angled towards his, hand gripping the edge of the counter. Your slightly damp hair, now cold, making you shiver.

He's impossibly hard against you, the material of his pants is thin, and you're aware of every inch of him pressing against your throbbing core.

"And I wouldn’t know how to stop kissing you," he whispers, his voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. He shifts slightly, causing his erection to press even more firmly against you, both letting out a soft moan. His mouth hovers just inches from yours, just kiss me, you thought.

There's a knock on the bedroom door, which is, by the way, open.

"Dad?" You both freeze.

The bathroom door is slightly ajar, offering a sliver of privacy but not enough to shield you from any potential interruptions.

"Yes?" Cillian calls out, trying to sound casual despite the intense moment that was just interrupted. "We're ordering takeout, do you want anything?"

"No, buddy, we're good, thanks," Cillian replies, his voice strained as he tries to keep his composure. You hear the steps retreating down the hallway.

Cillian steps back, and the absence of his body against yours is jarring. It clearly would've been a mistake to take this further, but a mistake that would've felt so fucking good.

"We shouldn't do this."

He clears his throat. "Yeah."

He moves towards the door, his movements tense and purposeful. "I'm gonna—" he says, motioning the door.

"Yeah," you quickly reply, "I got it."

You watch him leave, the air heavy with unspoken words and unfulfilled desires.

a/n: thank you for reading! please share your thoughts with me, let me know if you guys enjoyed it :)

part two

[wolfjackle-creates]

broski I beg of u to tell me about your Danny is Clark’s nephew wip im so intrigued

@hailsatanacab also asked about this one! I shared two snippets for them so check out Part 1 and Part 2. (about 900 words total between the two asks.)

This was inspired by the discussion on a prompt you made ages ago, actually! Here's the post. The main prompt isn't the inspiration, however. It was the comment about Danny joining the JL and [insert spiderman meme here].

Let's see if I have anything I can add. (I changed things enough when posting the first bits that everything else I have doesn't fit anymore.)

Eh, fine. Just went through and wrote another 600 words.

-----

Danny winced. “Yes, Uncle Cl— Kal. Uncle Kal.” Danny glanced next to him and realized Constantine had moved several feet away and was deliberately trying to not attract attention. He bit back a smile and pulled on the Prince Phantom persona Queen Dora had forced him to learn. “Thank you for your assistance, Laughing Magician. I now declare our deal complete and will make no further claims on you.” He waved his hand producing a piece of parchment which he handed over. “As promised, your payment.”

Constantine grabbed the paper and backed away quickly. “Great. Glad to do business with you, your highness. Hope your family reunion goes well. I’ll just—” he jerked a thumb over his shoulder, then changed something and disappeared through a portal even as several of the League members present tried to yell at him to stop.

Danny rolled his eyes as he fell back into his more relaxed demeanor. “Oh, please. What more did you want from him? I’ll talk to Uncle Kal and he can decide what is important to pass on. Magician Constantine already told you most of what he knows.”

“Just… come on, Danny,” said Uncle Clark. “We need to talk.”

---

Finding a place to talk to Danny wasn’t the problem, Clark quickly realized. Shaking off his coworkers, however… Bruce in particular did not want to be left out. And Wally was too curious to be put off.

“Danny?” called Clark when he realized the kid wasn’t with him.

“By the viewing window,” said Bruce. “He seems to enjoy the view.”

“Right. Should’ve guessed.” Clark cursed himself silently for forgetting how much the kid loved space. “Batman, please. I know you like to know everything. But can I just talk to my nephew alone? I’ll explain everything I can after, but I need to know how this situation could’ve happened in my own family without my knowledge first without you being there inserting Opinions.”

“Very well. I’ll collect Flash and we’ll leave the two of you alone. But I expect a full report after.”

“I’ll make a peach cobbler, Ma’s recipe, and head to the Manor tomorrow to tell you everything.”

“I’ll let Nightwing know.”

Clark sighed. “I’ll make two cobblers.”

Bruce’s lips twitched upward, but he turned without saying anything more. “Flash! Since this matter is going to be delayed, I believe you still have to file your report on the incident last week.”

Clark chuckled as Flash protested. But he didn’t listen to their discussion, instead joining Danny by the viewing window. He settled an arm around his nephew’s shoulders. “Beautiful, aren’t they?”

“I can’t believe you get to come up here and look out at the stars any time you want.”

“I don’t get up here as much as I’d like, I’m afraid. And when I am up here, it’s because something somewhere is going wrong so I don’t get to appreciate it as much as I’d like to.”

“So, if you’re an alien, does that mean Dad’s an alien, too? Is that why he is the way he is? Am I part alien?”

Clark laughed and ruffled Danny’s hair. Like this, it felt almost insubstantial, like passing his hand through mist. “Fraid not, kid. No one knows why your dad is the way he is. I can’t remember how often he was tested for the meta gene.”

“Once a year every year from the time he was six until he was twenty-two and graduated undergrad and started living on his own. Then he stopped for a few years. Until he started dating Mom. He accidentally broke her apartment door once and she insisted he get tested again.”

Clark wanted to laugh, but all he could remember was Danny’s earlier statement. “Danny… Are you…safe with your parents?”

-----

Again, anyone is free to continue this! If anyone wants, I can combine everything into one post to make it easier to do so.

[plutonianeris]

a message from 13 year old you ‧₊˚✩彡 [letter] 💓🍬

this is a general reading. take what resonates and leave what doesn't. scroll through the images & choose based on your inner guidance and gut feeling. ⛓️ *･῾ ᵎ⌇ ⁺◦ if you feel guided to: tip jar💘 ✧.*

Pile one ‧₊˚✩彡

"what did I tell you? I always knew it would work out in the end. I was always knew the pain wasn't going to last forever. It hurt to be treated that way by the people closest to me, especially the women in my life. there was always so much confusion growing up. people would say pretty things but there body language would show something else. I felt caged in my connections. But I always had some faith. I always had a feeling that the universe was watching out for me... for us. that it was sending us signs. that eventually I would be able to enjoy life to the fullest without feeling guilty for it. without feeling like I had to compare myself to the versions of me that they wanted me to be. I hope you know now that those versions don't exist. that we weren't born to be dolls for other people to dress up and control and shove words and opinions in their mouth and to gargle and spit back up. I doubted my intellgience so much.. underestimated my creativity. but looking at you now.. looking at us... I feel so proud. dont forget about me please! I always believed in you. even on those days where you couldnt stand to look in the mirror. I was on your side this whole time, its just that sometimes you werent listening. But now looking at you, you are everything I ever wanted to be. Im so glad I didnt give up. You deserve it all. the world. your dreams. im rooting for you. heres to more blessings and abundance."

Pile two ‧₊˚✩彡

"remember the way everyone would make fun of us for the weird things we did? Our odd expressions and the questions we asked and how we laughed out loud and our desire to see the world. how it always labeled as silly. I know it had made us dull our self expression for a little while. How we forced ourselves to shrink down, to fake laugh to the mean comments, or "oh this? not a big deal" or "its not that good.." so many of those... just to blend in better with our friends and family at the time. to make them like us. to see if that would make them stop criticizing so damn much. I hope we no longer are letting comments like that slide. I hope we dress like the way we always wanted to in our head but were to afraid to wear out. I hope we didn't let the world extinguish our playful nature. life felt like heartbreak after another. what do you know about love? youre just a kid. they deformed the way we saw it for a long time. but not anymore. It makes me emotional.. the way you never let go my hand. and how you always carried me along with you in your heart. Of course, now you call me your inner child. Or I guess inner teen. Ha, inner tween. Thank you for always being my friend. I see now that you are always what I was meant to be. Out of all the stars in the sky, we shine the brightest, you and me."

Pile three ‧₊˚✩彡

"you are so beautiful... wow we really are so different now. But I still see hints of me in you. in your smirk and your mischievous laugh and in your questioning glances and sharp stare when someone gets a little bit too close to our personal space. I admire the way your presence can make someone nervously glance away. I use to feel so powerless.. so many things I did to try to gain some control, even if it meant hurting myself and pushing away the people I love. I love how vulnerable you are. I really did see it as a weakness but looking at you now, it makes me realize how brave you are. of putting yourself out there despite the uncertainty. of taking that chance even if could end up badly. even if you could end up with a broken heart it seems like you no longer find sastification in staying in the darkness. I understand, its.. well, lonely... being alone. Do you think you could take me with you? That part of you... that is still afraid. do you think you could tell me? tell me that I am not broken or incomplete that there is nothing wrong with me. that I am not the worst thing that has ever happened to me or will happen to me. Reassure me? Tell me that some things we have to do even when we are afraid. that its terrifying and nerve wracking and makes our palms sweat. but then once we do it, it's glorious, it's liberating, it's everything we have ever dreamed of and more. I see it now. Take me with you. Do you see me? I see you. The way you look at the world and want to devour it. I see you now, with a crown atop your head. how you wear it so gracefully..."

Pile four ‧₊˚✩彡

"So many times.... I was so close to giving up. to listening to that little voice in my head that kept telling me over and over again that there was no point. that the feeling and the ache in my chest would last forever. that it was always going to be me versus the world. me versus me. that everything around me would always be dull and gray and that I would always be blue. I doubted my self-worth so much. It was practically non-existent. I still do in some ways now when I pop up and invalidate the way you feel, shrugging my shoulders wondering if maybe we are actually deserving of this happiness... of this success. it feels foreign. like its not really mine.. well, ours. We're not in a really good situation right now and my parents are trying to hide things from me that im just too big now to pretend not to notice. they don't make me feel that protected anymore. and that hurts me a lot. whose gonna take care of me now? Im so glad youre here now. Im so glad we got to grow up and that we survived. and im so glad that now that we survive we can actually live. Thank you for reminding that we can let go now. that theres no room for a pity party anymore. thank you for letting me know that your'e not going to leave me behind. thank you for keeping my memory alive. thank you for looking back at me with kind and loving eyes. but most of all, thank you for fighting for me. I know I can easily lie and say "everything is fine" but thank you for showing me that it eventually it is. thank you proving to me that eventually I will say its fine. its okay. its great even. and that I, that we, actually mean it."

© plutonianeris

[moonybug444]

(sorry for my bad english!) hii! I found your account and i want to tell you that your stories are, like, a GREAT comfort, the few you have are, it sounds weird but, in my opinion reading stories (or writing) about abusive relationships is an escape route to avoid falling into those relationships in real life, I mean, i read them and i get the adrenaline because of reading it instead of living them dhfjkshfsk so yes, they are also very, very well written <:

can i ask for a story where Connie is a little older thanreader, and constantly manipulates her with the excuse that he knows better and reader believes him, because, for a long time, he was the only older figure she had, something like that, I don't know. , bonus if reader cries hysterically in his arms (his fault, of course, he slapped her or something)

i really agree with your take on the whole writing about traumatic relationships because that’s how i feel. i’ve been thru so so much and i know it’s different but this is most definitely how i cope, im glad someone else can relate to me especially during these times i’ve felt so alone💗 you english is beautiful by the way, thank you 😊

tw: grooming - reader was 17 when she meant 24 year old connie / mental abuse / physical abuse - from connie and from readers dad / very mean and manipulative? connie / unestablished relationships / not proofread

such a baby

——————————————————————————————————

“really thought you were over that stupid shit y’know, (name)?” he looks down at you, sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed and spits, “you’re still just a fucking kid.”

he hates it when you cry. you know he does, he knows he does, so you don’t know why it feels like him making it happen is always his main goal.

you sit there silently looking up at him as he scrolls on his phone. after a couple minutes he puts it down and looks down at you.

“you’re gonna have to find a place to go.” your eyes widen all the more and you feel your heart beat quicken. it scares you when he says stuff like that. find a place to stay? where could you possibly go? you feel like you’ve been with connie so long, he’s taken care of you for so long…

“w-what?” you get up suddenly, trying to ease your way into his lap. you’re get even more nervous even harder when he meanly pushes you away, you pretty eyes water.

“c-connie..! hic wh-what— how will i—?” you can’t even finish your sentence you’re so shaken. you really can’t help it, you can’t imagine any life without connie. how could you? he’s the one that took you in, he’s the one that knows exactly what to do when you don’t, he tells you what to do when you’re just about to make the wrong choice. he’s shown you what love is when nobody else could.

while you’re breaking down crying you can tell connie’s losing his patience by the second, he’s getting up waving his hands all type of ways getting all in your face, yelling all types of nonsense.

“dammit (name), shut the fuck up, y’know i hate that crybaby shit, go fix yourself before i do it for you” when you don’t shut up he doesn’t give you a second warning, just slaps you clean across your face. you damn near fly across the room from the impact, connie’s just so much stronger than you.

“—oww ..!” your body shakes as you try to lift yourself up, your crying even harder now. “y-you’re a liar…! you said—you said hic you were d-done hitting me—!”

he stomps over to you, eyes wide and mad while he starts dragging you by your little arm to the front door, “who the fuck do you think your talking to?! i don’t owe you shit you know that, little girl?!”

connie goes to open the front door, “i’m fucking tired, (name) i’ll sleep like a fucking baby without your fucking crying tonight—”

when you don’t stop he freaks out a little more. he hates when you don’t listen.

“think i fucking won’t?” he gets louder, “think i won’t put you out this fucking house, right now?! i don’t give a fuck what time it is—!”

connie drags you back to your shared bedroom and starts ripping your clothes out wherever he can find them and putting them in so random bags, while you cry and hyperventilate. he doesn’t give one fuck, to him you deserve this shit. you’re always running your mouth.

“who got you all this shit, huh?!” he moves on to the vanity and starts packing all your cute little jewelry, breaking some in the process.

he stops for a second and just looks down at you. veins popping out of his neck as he screams, with the bag he’s stuffing all your belonging in tightly gripped in his hand and that mean look of sternness in his eyes, you realize just how how much older connie really is. just how scary he is. with him being 7 years older than you and all, you’ve always put connie on the high horse, always seen it as a flex. but you don’t think you’ve ever really seen it until now. how truly scary he can be.

“you wanna go back, (name)?” he takes a deep breath. “you wanna go back to that shit everyday? living in that fucking house, getting treated like some fucking shit?”

you sob when he finally lets go of your now bruised arm. he goes to sit on the bed.

you were 17 and connie had just turned 24. it was late out when you ran away from home. you were sick of it. your dad was terrible to you, all the yelling and screaming and the bruises—you couldn’t take it anymore. connie was one of your friends older cousin, you had meant him at her birthday party and you think you fell in love. he just seemed so…mature. at the end of the night when he saw you all alone, he went up to you and asked if you were alright. turns out your dad was pissed so he didn’t pick you up. connie couldn’t be more excited to hear that shit. cute little shy teenager, and she’s got daddy issues? he hit the jackpot. he ended up taking you home and giving you his number, in case you ever, “needed anything.”

you’d call connie whenever, no matter what. he always knew exactly what to say.

one night your dad blacked your eye and you called connie. connie showed up 8 minutes later and came barging in, beating the shit out of your dad. that was the last night you heard from your dad and the last night you ever weren’t by connie’s side. you’ve been living with him ever since. you’ll never forget that first night he held you in his bed. he whispered about how everything would be ok and how much he’d take care of you. and you believed it.

it’s been only 2 years since then and connie’s still that ever so cool senior that you look up to. you love connie to death and you don’t think you ever won’t. he knows you’re completely dependent on him now too, he thinks he'll always use it to his advantage.

“you’re such a baby.” you look up at him and he nearly melts, he wants to fucking ruin you. you eyes are all glossy and swollen from crying, your lips are stilly wobbly from the wailing, and your tears—don’t even get him started on the fucking tears.

connie thinks about how perfect you are.. you’re already as naive as you could possibly be, but the age gap just puts it more in his favor.

you look in his eyes to see if that gaze is still there…you know, the loving one even after everything, and it is.

“i love you….” you whisper it like it’s a curse, anxious for his answer.

connie smiles and kisses your forehead watching you light right back up just from the small gesture.

“i know you do.”

[museofthepyre]

Hi! I always love your analysis and thoughts on chnt, so i wanted to ask if you have any one the "fruit fly that died by starvation/we only see sydney eating when elijah feeds him" parallels. I have some of my own, but frankly they're much too scrambled at the moment to make any sense. Have a good day!

THANK YOUUU IM SO GLAD YOU BROUGHT THIS TO MY ATTENTION BECAUSE OHHHH OMGOMG… you are onto something… okok I’m gonna rope Adam and the apple incident™️ into this too, since I think it’s the only other time we see Sydney eat anything…

If we’re analyzing this through the “hunger/ food as a metaphor for love” lens and trying to find meaning in these specific instances…

Jedidiah offers Sydney no food, they never even eat together anymore, Sydney says he misses it… the fruit fly dies of starvation, empty and alone… Jedidiah simply never thought to feed it. He loved it. He thought that was enough.

Elijah offers Sydney butter cookies, something much sweeter than what he’s used to— both the gesture itself, and the food in question. They sit across a table and have breakfast together while Elijah rambles on about some very concerning thoughts and behaviours— interspersed with declarations of love, compliments, etc... It’s sugar coating, its sweet-talking, sweetening the deal so that Sydney’s takeaway from the interaction is a conflicting blur of “nice, new & sweet” and “creepy, overwhelming & confusing”. He knows Sydney will come back, because Elijah is the only one feeding him, and the sweetness masks the taste of the poison!

And then ADAM!!! Adam offers Sydney an apple with a centipede hidden inside… Adam presents himself as a therapist, as a friend who cares, who’s there to help! He offers Sydney food, challenging Sydney’s refusal with the line “you’re always hungry!”… but it’s a Trojan Horse type situation. He has harmful intentions hidden beneath the surface, but you’ll only realize that once you’ve already bit off more than you can chew!!! What was offered to you as a nice and shiny apple ends up containing a centipede that you’re now forced to chew through (centipedes, in my opinion, symbolize danger/ threat or some similar concept in CHNT).

Somewhat tangential at the end here but what do yall think about Adam being an auto-cannibal through this perspective because I have many thoughts…

[digenerate-trash]

So Yan!Harper is a little different because it has been heavily contributed to by several people including:

@asylumdweller | @these-bees-r18  | @pip-n-chips | @degrees-of-fuck

(and the asylum group chat)

And all others around the community!! I want to thank you all for feeding my freak obsession and im glad this has become like a group project!! 

(PS: tag your own yan head cannons pretty please. Dude a freak I love him) 

Just Harper head cannons!!!! 

SFW ones first:

Obsessed with you. Not possessive but still wants you to be focused on him.

Really into dolls especially customizing them with clothing and hair accessories. He's definitely got one of you that no one can ever touch or look at because it's very special to him. 

Speaking of Harper being crafty he's also into sewing! He's very good at tailoring things to your measurements, he has them memorized by now. It's not creepy he's just thorough. 

Has made you a custom straight jacket. 

Embroidered your name in his sleeve so he can look at it whenever he's bored. 

Absolutely was the worst child, other kids in the neighborhood feared him and that is why all the images of him as a kid are of him alone. he's also got pictures of you though. They're just hidden. 

Will gaslight you for no reason. He just likes seeing you confused and worried when you think you've missed your appointment. don't worry he'll make an exception. you're just going to have to owe him a little favor that's all (:

Will drop anything to make room for appointments with you. Will also ditch work for you as well. He would make house calls but Bailey is pretty strict about Harper being in his territory and Harper isn't prepared to fight Bailey. 

Will make you sick on purpose to keep you close by. This is either physically sick or mental (he only makes you mentally sick if he wants to keep you at the asylum) 

Harper is constantly sticking things in you so he can lick/chew on them after you leave. 

He is convinced that every action you make is playful and flirty even if you're trying to attack him. He just thinks of you as his feisty little lover and you just need a little extra attention that's all. 

When you're actually sick he's extra helpful, he prefers you like this. Weak and needy. He pets your head calls off any appointments or seeing any patients and he just sit's with you. Making sure you feel better. 

Harper takes care of all your needs. Check-ups mental health care surgery. No other doctor can touch you he's made sure of it. You also can't get a second opinion. 

Prefers using drugs/hypnotism to keep you in line. Man isn't strong and even though he could call security it's not ideal for him to get others involved in your little ‘couple fights’ 

For surgery, harper is always there for you. Before and after he's very attentive. Makes sure you know everything you need to and he's very good at making sure your recovery goes smoothly (even if it takes twice as long) 

he's always very clean even if you're a mess. He likes the dynamic of the two of you together. He likes it when people think he's out of your league because it adds to his abuse of power kink

Man has breathing issues around you. He tries to hide it. Biting his lip. Holding his breath. Just trying to control his breathing. None of it works. Man wants to huff you like a junky huffs paint.

Even if you are in a proper relationship with Harper he gets really petty and upset if you don't address him as ‘doctor’ 

don't play games with this man. He is the worst sore loser and even when he does win if you are close to beating him he's bitter about it. Might even hypnotize you to make you worse. He doesn't care if it affects other parts of your life. Competitive and petty 

Any time you punch/bite/mark this man he's enamered with the marks. They are a little present from you to him and it's not like you could ever really hurt him so he sees it more as a little lovers trophy than an attack 

NSF WORK UNDERCUT: 

will absolutely voyeur you but he is always particular about it, positions how people touch you how they act around you It is all very carefully choreographed even when he gets other people to fuck you it's all very staged and sterile in a weird way that doesn't even feel like sex lets be honest.

Prefers getting his sexual frustration out on you but likes it better when you're hypnotized. (He doesn't like to be associated with pain or discomfort unless it's for a purpose)

Has a file full of images of you naked, broken, on the verge of tears, fucked out of your mind, even ones where you're just asleep. He files them all carefully and studies them all he really wants to get ‘the perfect picture’ of you that captures everything you are. he's not even sure if it's possible but he's going to try. 

Get ready for everything you wear/eat/smell/sleep on to be covered in harper cum. Especially at the asylum where he's in charge of everything. he's got no shame and he really wants you to be accustomed to him and everything he does. 

Cockwarming at the drop of a hat. He needs to do paperwork. Guess who he's assigning as his little helper? you're too tired to get up from bed? Not a problem for Harper he can stay in bed with you. At the farm and he has a moment alone with you while he gets things ready? His pants are already off. You can't escape it. Harper loves having his dick in you at any time. 

Chugs a vial of aphrodisiacs before your appointments with him so he's the correct amount of horny for you. 

Will also feed you aphrodisiacs and then deny you any sort of stimulation until you're begging or crying. The dude really wants you to earn things from him when you're lucid so you think it's all your idea 

When you are hypnotised definitely makes you do some really nasty things for him. he's really into the idea of you being into everything he is and even encouraging him to do things to you when you're asleep/passed out. it's like getting consent but he's putting the words in your mouth and having you spit them back up for him. 

Has sex with you during surgery. And if he can't do that he at least jacks off during it. He can't help himself he really needs you. 

Man loves gaslighting you about your past sexual experiences. he's a big fan of convincing you that you're just an exhibitionist and it's normal. You just like things super rough and with a little more practice you won't be feeling so guilty about it anymore. And surprise harper is here to help!! 

Will jerk you off as therapy. If you enjoy it your making progress if you don't next time he's going to get a vibrator 

Very body-focused he's interested in pushing you to your absolute limits and making things difficult for you. Wants you unable to focus/form words/be able to move. 

Prefers it when you're squirmy during sex but not outright violent. 

Absolutely loves forcing you to cum. Not a fan of edging though. Not unless it's some kind of punishment. The dude will make you cum in your sleep during surgery when you are hypnotized, hands-free when you're fully dressed. Mans a freak for it. He also likes it when you sit on his lap or thigh while he forces you to cum. You'll get a lot of praise if you do it of your own volition. 

Harper drinks piss. At least once bro look at him.

[ominous-horse-noises]

final finale thoughts!!

things i loved about the finale

QUEER GODDESS PATHEON YEAAAAAAH!!! i thought it was such a good way to find a happy medium between kristen committing to a worldview that felt authentic and nuanced without being catholic™ about it

everything to do with the scene of Ankarna trying to offer retribution to each of the bad kids, and each of them making peace with past wrongs instead of continuing to stew in it. i love growth!!!

FIG AND KRISTEN MIRRORING ANKARNA AND CASSANDRA

everything to do with mazey and fabian. of all the fantasy high couples aside from fidayda, these two feel the most like they make sense together- they have similar interests, they have similar values, fabian had a crush on her even when she was being 'uncool' (eg. twister) and how mazey actually picked up on that and appreciated the way he used his perceived coolness to extend it to others who might be picked on otherwise. this is the couple i most hope go the distance even post aguefort adventuring academy (again, aside from figayda ofc but i literally cannot imagine those girls breaking up over anything)

fabian's fetus sibling outnemesising him despite fabian building an animosity towards them the whole season before they were even conceived. peak fantasy high insanity

controversial but i thought the maryann/gorgug being introduced and canonised in all of 15 minutes was hilarious. it was very teen of them in a way that felt authentic. my ideal scenario for them is an end of year fling that becomes amicable exes bc they truly have nothing in common beyond thinking the other is hot (real of them) but i dont have a strong opinion on whether they should break up or not

also maybe controversial but i like that kalina is straight up bloodthirsty. she felt like an equal opposite to bakur- rather than being a devoted servant who became corrupted by proxy, she was trying to corrupt her deity into a form she preferred. thematically it extends to the complementary opposites thing ankarna and cassandra have going on (though i get it might be a reach).

"... thats a four. you know what it's for we don't have to talk about it"

squeem

riz coming in clutch with the character arc right at the last moment. i joked ab his neuroticism being part of his natural swag, but im glad murph not only made sure riz FINALLY addressed the way he was burning himself out, but also that by extension, he was burning out both fig and kristen bc riz has a very calculated idea of 'success' and while he had the best intentions, those two dont fit neatly into it

THE HOLD PERSON OVER THE LAVA??? RIZ'S 'very good on paper, but no practical application."??? i screamed

a second blimey-related divine intervention roll by K2 leading her to getting pinnochioed into a real straight british girl, in real non-dnd britain, is the best thing thats ever happened in fantasy high. a simulacrum was so powerful brennan had to do the dnd equivalent of sending her to a barn upstate.

adaine and aelwyn talking about killing their mother over icecream can be something that is so personal...

siobhan's incredible play with the earworm??? phenomenal, i gasped out loud

fig maybe moving into fabian's house even after she drops out so fabian won't be alone again... what if i threw up blood actually

i liked kipperlilly copperkettle being confirmed to be rotten to the core. 'the ritual looks very different when one accepts rage willingly' GOOD!!! i like evil ambitious teenage girls who try to burn the world down to get what they want. i get why they didnt bring her back, that detail definitely cemented her as in the zayne/penelope category of 'past villains who could possibly be redeemed'

FIG AND AYDA MY LOVES!!! sorry but not even the lesbian goddesses are doing it like these two. brennan put his whole pussy into creating ayda aguefort and my life has been changed forever

zac once again dming K2's alternate universe campaign

things i hated

ik it was payoff to the running bit and it made me cackle when it was revealed, but the implications of hallariel and gilear having a baby are so bad to me. fig talks up gilear a lot, and sure, he came around to being a good dad to her, but gilear has objectively been a shit stepdad to fabian and hallariel... is hallariel. its got to sting was watch your mom be basically catatonic for your entire life, and then suddenly prove that she was capable of being an present mother the whole time- just not for you. im hopeful that senior year will address this though!! lou has always been so good giving his characters' weighty emotional arcs that feel satisfying

i dont like the implication of trackerbees getting back together. i never thought bladebees was good beyond a realistic rebound, but trackerbees was SO codependent together, i dont think its a coincidence that kristen had her best emotional intelligence moments when forced to think things through on her own. tracker always struck me as kind of a 'fixer' type, like she feels most comfortable with someone she can act caretaker-y to (hence bouncing off kristen to another girl who had similar issues). i really reaaaally hope they dont regress back into their s2 dynamic

ruben's memory wipe. i thiiink the implication is that those who were the most willing to follow through on porter's orders maintained more of their memories bc they were in control of themselves and those who didn't were compelled into obedience (which might be why ivy and oisin remember more), but it wouldve been nice to actually see the lucy/ruben close friendship brennan said they had with him sobbing and apologising to her

it felt very weird that kristen didnt get some kind of resolution to her yearlong gentle prodding at bucky?? i think ally got sidetracked with the possibility of kristen getting back together with her ex that it kind of slipped from their mind (maybe bc to them the ankarna vision of her upbringing was kristen resolving her feelings towards her family but still), but considering all of elmville was coming apart, i feel like bucky's faith could've been swaying into doubt pretty easily. idk maybe bc ive become a trackerbees hater over the season but it felt annoying that that was what ally focused in on and not their character's more meaningful relationship with her little brother

[carcarcraziiv2]

hi!!!i wanted to do a request (im shaking as i write this bc this is my second time ever doing a request-) about Kayn having a crush on a reader that's part of Pentakill.Reader looks super mysterious and scary but in reality they're just shy and also have a crush on Kayn and both of them confess at the same time.Take your time and have a good day!!!

I am so glad you requested it! It's okay to be nervous! I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG I LOVE YOU AND I APOLOGIZE <//3

I LOVE THIS PROMPT- especially for someone who is in Pentakillllll like that is so exciting. I am so hyped for this! I hope you enjoy <3

Content / Warnings: Mature language (the 'b' word lol), Alcohol consumption. Not much else really....

Word Count: 1883

Kayn was never one to show his fanboy nature, even though everyone in Heartsteel already knew Kayn had a secret obsession- Pentakill. Specifically, the bands mysterious, cold and ominous bassist; you.

You on the other hand, although already being the bassist in a rock band, had somehow gained a reputation for being the "dark" or "moody" bandmember in comparison to Sona or Kayle. In reality though, you just liked keeping to yourself, rarely being the first one to speak, often sitting alone on the stage speakers or out back of the concert houses having a smoke before or after a show.

Regardless of the publics opinion of you, you loved your bandmates. You were just shy, so when Kayle approached you notifying you about a possible collab with your personal favorite band Heartsteel, you couldn't help but be incredibly anxious.

"What do you mean we are 'meeting' with them tomorrow," you inquired, glancing up from your book to see Kayle lean against the kitchen counter and take a drink from her cup.

"Oh, come on Y/N. Don't you like... oh which one was it?" She pauses and you take in a deep breath before letting out a sigh. "Kayn, right?"

You sit up from your spot and set your book down. Arching your brow and rolling your eyes at the winged woman, you chose to ignore her inquiry.

She scoffed before saying a little quieter, "Well Yone said Kayn likes our bassist. Guess it's not that big of a deal. I'll tell him we will pass on the meeting."

She began reaching towards her phone on the counter, causing you to pause mid-stretch and jump up to stop her.

"Wait!" you shrieked, cringing at yourself immediately thereafter.

"I knew it," Kayle smirked. "Our meeting is at noon by the way." As she walked away, you slumped back onto to the couch and let out another dramatic sigh.

~~

Kayn was going to kill Yone. Rhaast on the other hand was threatening to constantly break through at any moment with sheer excitement.

They were meeting Pentakill today. They- more specifically- were meeting you today. He was terrified. What if you hated him? What if you thought he was weird, or worse- what if Rhaast made an appearance and said something outrageous or out of pocket?

Kayn shook his head and rolled his eyes before splashing his face with water. He stared at himself in the mirror for a moment, silent dialogue only heard by him plaguing his mind.

Do not do anything brash, Rhaast.

Oh, I would never, Kayn.

~~

The meeting wasn't long. There was clearly some sort of friendship history between Yone and Kayle. Beyond that, everyone chatted like long lost friends aside from you - always silent and observant, and Kayn who sat at the large meeting table across from you.

You didn't fail to notice how he consistently stared at you. You were lowkey jealous because you wished you had started first. You weren't about to have a staring contest with him now.

You hadn't realized you were dissociating into the wall next to the large bay window until you were snapped out of it by Kayle's voice.

"Y/N, did you hear me? We are going to partner up for our song collab." Her lips rose in an evil knowing little smirk. "You and Kayn will be working together." Damn her for playing teacher right now.

A blush immediately erupted on your skin as you glanced at Kayn and gave him a shy smile. He let out a dramatic sigh and you were ashamed to think you were actually excited to have a real excuse to talk to him for an extended period of time.

"Alright everyone, let's start today and you can all figure out arrangements for your individual meetings. We will have our group meeting biweekly. Once we have a song, we will figure out our practice schedule and all the other details!" Yone smiled politely and everyone began standing and walking to their partners. As you observed, you saw both sett and K'Sante give looks to Kayn as they passed by him, almost teasing.

You couldn't help but be mortified by their social ques. Had Kayle spilled the beans about your silly little crush on Kayn? Oh Gods, what if Kayn knew and was staring at you because he was wondering how the hell he got stuck with the quiet freak from Pentakill as not only his partner, but his crush.

You sighed inwardly as you walked slowly towards him, looking anywhere but his direction. He was more confident than you thought, looking straight at you as you could see through your peripheral and starting the conversation.

"Hello, Y/N, right? I guess I should introduce myself- I'm Kayn," he reaches out a hesitant hand. You smile politely, shyly, in response.

"I'm Y/N- well you already know that anyway, heh..." you stutter, flustered due to the close proximity between the two of you. You give another awkward smile, and then let out an exasperated breath before continuing. "So, when and where would you like to meet up for these brainstorming sessions?"

Kayn seems to pause for a moment, putting his hand under his chiseled chin in a thinking pose. His gaze leaves you for a moment, before returning to your own.

"Dinner, you pick where you want to go. I will schedule if you send me the name of the restaurant. Here, put your phone number in my phone," he pulls his phone out of his pocket, unlocking it and handing it to you. You raise your eyebrows in surprise, not even second guessing the dinner suggestion. There's no way he could be asking you on a date, right? No, you're not delusional.

You input your number and quickly bid your farewell as Kayle waves at you from the door. You hadn't realized everyone was gawking at the two of you as they waited to leave for the evening.

~~

"You know you don't have to do this at dinner Kayn? May as well have asked her out at that point," Sett smirks at him from his seat on the couch.

I told you, Rhaast hissed in Kayn's mind. It's too obvious now.

"Nah, don't worry. It is just a lunch between colleagues to brainstorm for a song. Nothing more, nothing less." Kayn glares at Sett, before walking into the bathroom to spray on some cologne for the first time in a very long time.

~~

You were so nervous. Even more nervous than you had been previously. And when you get nervous, you babble.

So before leaving for dinner with Kayn that evening, you gave yourself a pep talk in the mirror.

"Do not say anything stupid." Yeah, right.

"Do not be a clumsy mess as per usual." Will probably stumble trying to sit in the chair.

"Do not be ominous and awkward." Can't change your nature, baby.

Gods, your inner dialogue was a bitch.

You had chosen to wear casual yet flattering attire to your dinner, sticking to your usual all dark fabric and accessories. After getting ready and checking yourself out in the mirror once more, you went outside and got on your motorcycle with your backpack slung over your shoulders.

Letting out a shuddering breath, you began the not so long journey towards the restaurant. You had suggested one close by that you did enjoy, although the nerves in your stomach suggested you probably wouldn't be doing to much eating.

Upon arrival, you hung your helmet on the handle of your bike and stepped off. Before heading inside, you spared a glance at one of the windows only to see Kayn openly gawking at you stepping off of your ride.

Unbeknownst to you, he was thrilled to see you on a motorcycle. It was a thing with him, something about being rebellious or dangerous compared to the norm always caught his eye.

Quickly averting your gaze you let out a deep sigh to ready yourself and walked into the restaurant- ignoring the hostess and walking the corner to seat yourself in the booth across from Kayn.

Placing your backpack on the bench next to you, you let out a breath.

"Hi, Kayn," You smiled politely, your voice quieter than you had intended.

"Hi, Y/N," He smiled back. This evening his expression was eager, his eyes alight with dare you say- mischief. And you couldn't help but notice the slight blush that caressed his cheeks under the yellow lighting of the lamp above.

"So, do we want to order first or get right to business?" The question tumbled out of your mouth casually, and it took you a moment to realize that you actually felt quite comfortable sitting across from him in this moment.

"Well, I already ordered us both a drink. I hope you like Gin and soda," A gulp audibly escaped his throat and your lips twitched up in an almost smile.

"Actually, one of my favorite cocktails. Thanks, Kayn."

Gods, he liked the sound of his name on your lips.

The evening went on without a hitch, the two of you talking casually. By the time a few hours had passed, your food long since finished on the table in front of you, you realized you hadn't actually gotten to any brainstorming.

The drinks had started getting to you, loosening up your nerves. Before you knew it you were blabbering on and grabbing your backpack to pull out your notebook.

As you were looking down, Kayn was staring at you.

Just tell her, you coward. Rhaast was yapping again, but the booze had Kayn tuning him out. He was planning on it anyway.

"Sorry, I knew if I spent this much time with you I'd end up talking too much. Must be because of how much I like yo-," you paused. Were you saying this out loud?

You heard Kayn pull in a sharp breath, before softly saying,

"That's interesting. I was just trying to hype myself up to say that I have had a crush on the cute bassist from Pentakill for awhile now. Please tell me I didn't hear you wrong..." Kayn's eyes were wide, one eyebrow raised as he bit his lip.

Your jaw fell open, before you promptly closed it and blinked a few times.

"Wait, really?" You smiled. You couldn't help it. And as Kayn looked at you, he knew all of the assumptions the public made about you being dark or ominous or mysterious were bullshit. You were like starlight shining in a dark sky with that smile.

"Really. I swear it. Yone and Kayle I think did this specifically to set us up, actually. Everyone else on my side has known I've liked you for awhile. Lucky for us Kayle and Yone have... a friendship." He grinned sheepishly, running a ringed hand through his pink hair.

You laughed out loud then, having had made the same assumption yourself. "I thought the same thing!"

And as the night waned on, the restaurant eventually closed and the waitress was forced to kick the two of you out. The drinks had worn off over the time you had been there, opting for water instead.

As the two of you walked down the steps back to your motorcycle, Kayn looked at you and pulled you in for a hug. You melted into him momentarily before he released you.

"So, I have a request," he stated. You nodded for him to continue, your brows scrunched in question.

"Can I have a ride on your motorcycle?"

~~

The End! I hope you LOVED IT AND AGAIN IM SO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT! I have basically been AFK irl lately lol. Thank you for the lovely request!

[fairycosmos]

miss fairy cosmos sometimes I see a nice post and I have to fight SO HARD to not be a hater. just saw one saying "I have never seen anything more beautiful than the sunlight" and I had to take deep breaths and count to 10 so I don't share my contrary and unnecessary opinion. anyway. I love you

stop this happens to me all the fucking time. like i know good and well this positive and beautiful and generally uplifting post is well-intentioned and not all-encompassing but i am literally in the depths of grief and mental illness in a way that is genuinely ruining my life forever and stopping to look at the sunlight is not going to change that especially when i am deep in one of my episodes. and seeing platitudes like that can fucking burn you out when you're in that headspace like makes you feel like you're going to implode. but i just sit with the rage and scroll and think hey that's a beauiful sentiment and i'm sure it helped someone. and if i'm still annoyed i write about it in google docs or scream or something. it's really hard to do that but yeah i know what you mean by not wanting to share a contrary unnecessary opinion. you're right and you're also right about everything else. the rage and sadness i mean LOL. i'm right there with you. know ur not alone in that and im glad you're able to take a step back and cool down when it happens even though everything fucking sucks and is agonising. that shows a lot of self-awareness and like, emotional maturity fr. love ya too!! <3

[gemini-sensei]

Pizza & PJs | Robby Keene x Chubby!Reader

Fem!Reader ○ Fluff blurb

Request: robby keene ask can u do robby fluff where he has a rich feminine clean girl girlfriend who lives in the valley and he stays over at her house for the first time they have a cute little sleepover. no smut please im not comfy w that.

To put it lightly, Robby was worried about the night ahead of him. It was nothing new to him, staying at someone's house but this time was different. Whereas he was just looking for a warm place to stay the night before, his girlfriend had invited him over for a sleepover this time. He found himself in front of her lush, pretty house.

It was a big house, the home she grew up in - she still stayed at home for school. It stood over him, tall and large. It was intimidating, a little more than it ought to be in his opinion. It was just a mansion, no big deal. But it was Reader's mansion, and he'd been asked to stay the night...

He thought of a million reasons why he, Kobby Keene, didn't belong there. He shouldn't be there at all - her parents weren't home, it was too nice of a place for him, among a million other things - and yet there he was. So he rang the doorbell and waited.

It didn't take long for Reader to open the door. When she did, she threw it open and hugged Robby with open arms. He caught her and accepted her hug, smiling to himself because it was hard not to smile with her close to him. She was like sunshine, the bright happiness in his life. She made his days better just by existing. Holding her soft, curvy body to him made everything seem like it was going to be okay.

She kissed his cheek and brought him inside. "I'm so glad you could make it. I hate being home alone."

He took a look around her grand entryway, mouth slightly agape. "It was no problem. I love spending time with you."

She giggled. "So I was thinking that we change into our pajamas and order pizza. Is that alright?"

"I love pizza," he told her, smiling wide. She just looked so excited to see him and to have a sleepover. It was a little contagious. "Where should I get changed?"

"Oh, there's a bathroom right in this hallway. First door on the right."

He nodded and followed her directions. He expected a little bathroom, but when he turned on the light he found that it was almost as big as a small bedroom. It stood as a reminder of how differently they grew up, but he tried not to think about it. However, he did often think that Reader was way out of his league. After all, she grew up like a princess and he was a peasant.

She was finishing up the pizza order when he walked out. He was in nothing more than a tee shirt and sweatpants, nothing too special, and she had yet to get into her pajamas. When she put the order through, she skipped over to him and hugged his arm. "Let's go upstairs. I have chips and candy and popcorn. Anything you want. And we can pick out a movie to watch. We have all the streaming services, so just about everything is on the table."

"Cool," he said.

So Reader showed him to the theater room and gave him the remote to choose a movie, and then she scurried upstairs to get into her pajamas. Robby stared at the screen for about a minute before clicking on Netflix because it was the safest bet in his opinion; in his mind at least, among the plethora of streaming services her family had. He went through different movies, mostly flicking the options until Reader returned.

When she did, she was wearing a cute, matching two-piece set of pajamas. They were her favorite color with accent trim, nothing too over the top. It was just a pair of shorts and a shirt, but not too showy; it still showed off her curves but in a subtle way. She looked cute.

"Find something yet?" she asked as she sat beside him. She reached for the bowl of chips on the table and hugged it close, sitting close to him.

He smiled sweetly. "Not yet."

"What are you in the mood for?"

"I don't know."

She giggled and it made him laugh. It eased the tension in his chest and he felt better. They eased into each other and he put an arm around her. She cuddled into him and they looked for a movie to watch, making jokes about certain ones that popped up or going over the pros and cons of certain ones.

Then the doorbell rang and she sat up. "The pizzas here."

"I can get it," he told her gently.

He got up and she pulled a throw blanket over her legs. She smiled up at him. "Hurry back," she giggled. "I'm so hungry for pizza!"

He laughed and walked to the front door to get the pizza. It was left on the doorstep, so he grabbed the two boxes and brought them back to her. He smiled at her as he walked in. She clapped her hands and giggled.

"I found a movie," she said.

He looked up after setting the pizza down and saw one of her favorites queued up. "I didn't expect anything less."

He sat himself down beside her again and she scooted up to him so they were sitting hip to hip. He flipped open the boxes and saw she'd ordered her favorite pizza and got him a regular pepperoni. He grabbed a slice as Reader started the movie and they happily indulged themselves.

Soon enough, they were cuddled up on the couch with a bag of candy, some pizza, and each other. She laid her head on his chest as they watched the movie, a smile on her face, and everything Robby was worried about before washed away because it didn't matter. All that mattered was what they had there and now, sitting in their pajamas with her in his arms.

[connorjared]

there are so many things I could say and back up with my annotations but there are some things I want to say

- connor is an unreliable narrator, but in an interesting way. unlike evan, connor's text is purposely written like he's trying to seem WORSE than he is. that's why I think rereading the book as an adult (especially if you have worked with kids) is so incredibly tragic. it's easier to see every way he was utterly failed both personally and systemically when you are no longer the child being failed personally and systemically

- connor is canonically a victim of the troubled teen industry and says it was BETTER than rehab. this genuinely breaks my heart because you can catch little pieces of CPTSD throughout his text and dialogue—he becomes extremely defensive and assumes evan is "tricking him into looking crazy," he states relief there's no longer anyone "waiting around the corner to catch him or check for red in his eyes" this child was treated like a criminal and the one place he felt safe in was removed when he chose to take the blame for something that he didn't do (see below)

- connor taking the fall for his... situationshipfriend miguel because he knew his parents were rich enough and he was white enough to get a more lenient punishment for WEED (which. the criminalization of that and the stigma is a whole OTHER thing) this haunts me. the act itself is noble, unhealthily self sacrificing, but that's not what gets me. his proclaimed friend not only allows him to do this, but even after connor GOES TO REHAB FOR HIM miguel doesn't tell his own mom the truth, causing her to ban the two of them hanging out and connor LOSES his only safe space right after undergoing rehab that he never even needed

- connor canonically has been put on and off multiple medications , we unfortunately don't know when this started but we DO know it was not in his control. SSRIs take a long time to work and shouldn't be switched quickly even for adults, let alone teenagers, and they ESPECIALLY should not be used as stand-ins for accommodations of a disability. there's far more I could say about other medications this might have been such as an SNRI (which connor has said to have less than favorable opinions of) and this is possibly even MORE concerning

- there has been a BUZZ on tiktok about how zoe was a girl icon for being forced to mourn her "abusive brother" and while they definitely had a toxic sibling dynamic fed by their toxic parental dynamic, the idea the toxicity was one sided is just... wrong. not even subjectively, the narrative WANTS you to know this is wrong, at least in the book. the musical... lets just say, im glad they wrote the book. it doesn't undo the honestly pretty shit messaging of the musical, but it adds context that helps derail claims like the one above that add further stigma to victims of suicide. zoe is verbally degrading to connor in recollections and in the small amount of time we hear her speak about him (though, this does change as her character develops throughout the book and she begins to mourn him properly.) zoe is a glass child. she resents all of the negative attention connor received because she didn't get any attention at all. so, she often sides with larry through the book, who is said to have more or less gotten tired of connor and considered him attention seeking, which would be something INCREDIBLY validating for a glass child to hear. zoe is, unfortunately and ironically, often written with detail but no substance. evan, who I could talk about at length and very angrily, constantly prattles small things he notices about her—but, and im not sure if this is the author's intention or not, she barely gets any true characterization outside of her interactions with others, which strangely almost makes her a side character (which i suppose she is) but there are some core parts of HER identity and her character alone that can be picked up throughout the book and i could go on for hours about that and i will not now but i will

- i didn't even touch on cynthia and larry and their abuse (yes! people can love their children and be abusive) but by god i will. by god

dear evan hansen fandom please interact. if u disagree i will probably point an autism beam at you in the form of a personally crafted video essay on why I am right and you are wrong. I have read this book inside and out

[dano-or-not]

you said you were running out of things to say about mob psycho, so i wanted to ask your opinion on the parallels between toichiro and mob (but not the ones everyone talks about, like how mob could've turn like toichiro if his life was different and stuff like that), specifically the parallel of how their two battles ended.

in s2, their battle ended with mob saying that leaving toichiro to suffer alone would be too sad, not matter how much he dislikes him, so he decided he is going to help him. and he does that by absorbing a lot of toichiros energy before it explodes, which ultimately saves his life.

now, in s3, ???% was about to deal a final blow to shou and toichiro, only to stop because of how hard mob was trying to contain himself, so toichiro announces he is going to stop ???% by absorbing his energy, the exactly same thing he did for him, the only thing only the two of them could do. shou objects, and before toichiro could go through, he realizes that in the end, what he's doing now is no different from what he always did, run away from his family, so he ultimately decides to run away with shou, leaving mob there desperately trying to stop himself.

i barely see anyone talking about those two scenes, but they've been on my mind forever for so many reasons.

how both of them made their decisions and they aren't right or wrong, they're choices, choices made by them because they are the ones in charge of their own lifes, it was mob's choice to stay there and help him, just like toichiro deciding to run away was his

there's also the fact toichiro says to mob that he's not as strong as him before leaving, which on a surface level seems to be about his strength, but i see that dialogue as him saying hes not strong enough to be willing to sacrifice himself despite all that he might lose, and that makes me crazy!

there's a lot more, like how desperate mob must have felt, we see in s2 mob in his room pondering if someone would stop him if he went out of control. and at that moment, with toichiro walking away, it must have felt like it was over, he had already told teru before to hit him with all he had, to stop mob, but he couldnt, and with suzuki leaving, i imagine how he felt

im soso sorry for the long ask, i don't even know if anything i said made any sense, i have a lot of difficulty putting my thoughts into words, and that gets 10 times worse because of my terrible english lol, i just saw your post about not having any new ideas and it gave me courage to try and send something, im usually very embarrassed bc i always feel like im saying sum wrong LOL, but your blog is my favourite on tumblr and your works are absolutely amazing so im glad to be sending you something, much love

Hello fifth anon!!

And thank you for helping me with post ideas, it's nice and appreciated!

You're so right about the mix of similarities between Toichiro and Mob's face offs in season 2 and season 3! I totally agree; neither of the decisions they made were perfect. Was it good that Mob was going to sacrifice himself? No. Was it good that Toichiro ran away from Mob at ???%? No. But was it good that Mob refused to abandon his morals and continued to show unyielding compassion? Yes. Was it good that Toichiro finally made a choice for his family rather than himself? Yes. Just like you said, their choices were just choices, and luckily happened to be ones that worked out.

As for Mob's point of view in season 3, yeah that must have been rough. At that point Toichiro seemed to be the only person who could stop Mob, and he walked away (for good reason). Even though Mob wanted him to run, it still had to have felt like defeat.

Toichiro did the exact opposite of what Mob did in season 2 when placed in an identical situation, and I think that did an excellent job of wrapping up Toichiro's character arc. He's finally taking care of what's most important to him and acknowledging that he isn't the best by saying how Mob is stronger in terms of both power, empathy, and preparedness to self-sacrifice for others.

There were two choices for Toichiro to make and they were equally bad. As the viewer of course we want Mob to be saved as fast as possible, but can you really blame Toichiro? Sometimes you help people who won't be able to repay you, but that doesn't mean they didn't deserve it.

But Mob Psycho 100 is also a story meant to convey a message, so certain things have to happen in a certain way. In season 2 Toichiro had to learn the importance of being there for people no matter what, and in season 3 Mob had to learn to be there for himself. They taught each other those lessons.

So all in all, I agree with your points and think you were really spot on! I'm glad you had the courage, the longer the ask the more interesting things I get to delve into! And don't worry about ever being wrong, I don't think you can ever really be wrong about story interpretation; if an idea resonates with you then it's right, that's all there is to it :)

And your favorite blog!? That's so cool, thank you so much!!!! :) I definitely had a mini-freak out of joy hearing that lol. I'm glad you enjoy my posts and fics! I'm very honored.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

wibta if I told my best friend they can no longer move in with my family next year?

Me (17f) and my friend (17) have been friends for about 5 years. Around 6 months ago we were discussing university and they mentioned they wanted to study at the university that is in my city. We discussed them potentially moving into my house while they study here. They would still be paying rent, it would just be a bit cheaper for them and we would get to live together. I discussed this with my parents and after a while they said yes. 

The problem is recently I haven't actually been feeling very supported or understood by my friend. This feeling kinda started when I expressed doubt about being able to succeed in the career I have been working towards because my mental health is shit and idk if I can deal with the pressure involved, and they said that they were glad I reached this conclusion myself because they didn't think I could do it either. Which kinda hurt yk like they were correct and I have switched plans as of now, but I feel they couldve been nicer. Other than that I feel like neither of have done anything wrong I just think this is an aging thing, we're no longer 13 and have changed in similar ways, but I've begun to realise the way we see the world is vastly different. Also we recently keep getting into petty arguments, which is kinda my fault bc im autistic and have very strong opinions and never know when to shut up, but they're also like that we're both just very stubborn and opinionated people. Basically I feel the friendship isn't as strong as it once was and I don't like the idea of having to live with them during uni (also dont really like the idea of living with anyone tbh I fucking hate socialising and want to live alone). 

I feel like it's important to mention that although them living with me is cheaper, their family is financially very stable so they could comfortably afford to live in the uni halls or some apartment. Telling them they can't live with me wouldn't be financially that bad, its more so that I said they could and I feel that going back on my word might be quite cruel? 

Also recentlyish we've been making plans of living together and buying a house etc and yeah basically a lot of commitments have been made at a young age and I feel quite trapped. Also feels relevant to add that this feeling is definitely not mutual and they have no idea I feel this way, I'm 99% sure they are still very eager to go through with all this. I'm generally quite a communicative person, it's just these are all pretty new feelings and I'm not sure exactly what I feel.

Also sorry another thing that's probably relevant, they're aroace and our relationship idk what it is but I think it kinda goes deeper than the average friendship its kinda like a qpr but not lol.

So yeah wibta if I told them they couldn't live in my house for uni and should find somewhere else?

What are these acronyms?

[asegunda]

Accidental Study Session

PJO

Pairings: Annabeth Chase x GN!Reader, I wrote this with a platonic relationship in mind, you can do whatever you want but I was craving platonic ones so I wrote one.

Summary: Annabeth always goes to the library when she has free time, mostly when she is trying not to die aka not being chased by monsters who want her dead or when she is at camp, and one day she meets other person with the same interest.

Notes and Warnings: Well this is my first work so I would be very happy if there is no bullying 🙏❤️, and English is not my first language, as you see at the description of my profile, and I just wrote this for my enjoyment so dont expect for me to start writing normaly.

You were in the library two days in a row and Annabeth has been glancing at you. Not for the weirdo reasons of course, its just that you are holding one of her favourite books about architecture, more specifically, about the Renaissance era.

She just really wanted to talk to you and maybe hear your opinion, you didn't look too far from her age, maybe 2 years older at best...but she just couldn't, what if you just looked at her the wrong way, or if you really didnt want to talk and you just wanted to be left alone.

Annabeth sighed, and then made a decision.

She wasn't a Daughter of Athena for nothing. She had the courage to do this.

She aproached your table when you are reading and taking notes.

She sits at the chair in front of you and when you see her there you close your book (with the marker of course).

"Hmm. Do you need something?" You ask, making Annabeth almost jump.

"Oh, its just.." You can do this Annabeth. "I saw you reading that book and well its one of my favourites... so I wanted to know your opinion, since..well..I saw you taking notes." Did I talk too much?

"I see..well. This is a good read but Im just studying this because of my history classes. The next test will be about the Renaissance art and.. well Im very good at the history kind of topic but art isn't my favourite of all." You tell her but when you see that she is becoming a bit more tense you smile and say. "But Im glad someone likes this type of topic."

None of you talks for some seconds.

"Well if it isn't too much, could I read your notes?" She responds with a light of expectation.

"Sure, and its good that someone that understants this more than me sees it." You smile at her making her a bit embarassed for the compliment.

-♥︎-

You shared your name and Annabeth shared her's, and for the rest of that day she also helped you for your test and you two talked about other topics, eachother lifes (of course without all of that "Greek Gods are real and I'm a demigod" thing).

At the end of the day you were packing your things when you heard.

"Is it possible to do this more times?" Annabeth asked.

"I would love too." You smiled at her and Annatbeth couldn't almost contain her exciment.

Finally she could have a place to think about other things, things not related to being a demigod. She could even have a mortal friend, she interrupted those thoughts when you placed a paper in her hand.

"My number. If you want to contact me about these study sessions." You tell her and say again. "What's your number?"

Annabeth made the first excuse she could think of. "Well I dont remember it and I dont have my phone here."

You make a quick glance but just has it is there it disapears and you smile.

"Well, then you can always contact me trough that."

You two get out of the library and you make a quick wave.

"Goodbye Annabeth."

"Goodbye Y/n."

As you start walking away Annabeth just yells at you.

"Good luck on your test!"

You look at her and give her a thumbs up.

-♥︎-

The next time you are together you show her your result: 100%

Annabeth smiles.