#i have tried and i have put so much effort into trying to have a relationship with them

[salemlunaa]

🎀 NEW IDEA: ASK CHAT GPT 🎀

ꨄ Use AI to your advantage when it comes to manifesting and shifting…

Although AI can get a little weird and scary sometimes, it’s actually such a great way to get information, motivation and inspiration all in one

Instead of hounding bloggers for the same thing all the time. Go to Chat GPT.

Now, how about i give you a few examples, let’s imagine someone called maya 𖨆

maya is having trouble because she feels like when she tries to induce the void, she always falls asleep and that’s taken away so many years from her dream life

she asks Chat GPT: “I keep falling asleep every time I try to induce the void, I feel so frustrated all the time and I need some help”

Chat GPT answers: “Hi Maya, falling asleep during void practice is common, so don’t be too hard on yourself. One way to combat this is by practicing at a time when you feel awake and alert, like in the morning or after a light exercise session. Another tip is to sit up in a comfortable position rather than lying down, as it can help you stay focused and avoid dozing off. Keep practicing with patience—it’s all part of the process!”

now let’s imagine joey 𖨆

joey is feeling frustrated because he feels like he hasn’t progressed, he’s been in the community for 2+ years and really wants his dream life

he asks: “I’m feeling so frustrated and upset, like I want to give up, I’ve been trying to induce the void and get my dream life for over 2 years, I need motivation”

Chat GPT responds; “Hi Joey, I know it’s tough, but remember that persistence is key—sometimes the journey teaches you just as much as the destination. Instead of focusing on the time passed, celebrate the fact that you’re still trying, which shows incredible resilience. Take a short break if you need to, and reconnect with why you started. Visualize your dream life vividly, and remind yourself it’s worth the effort. Progress might be closer than you think!”

now chloe 𖨆 is feeling really powerless lately, circumstances hit her hard on some days and she feels stuck, she wants to be reminded how the void is so possible and so easy and she’s so capable of it all

she asks: “Can you remind me how powerful I am? Some days circumstances hit so hard and it gets thought!! Can you explain manifesting from a logical point of view to remind me how easy it all is?”

Chat GPT responds: “Hi Chloe, let me remind you of this simple truth: you are the creator of your reality, the God of your world. From a logical point of view, everything you experience stems from your thoughts, beliefs, and focus. Circumstances are just reflections—they only hold power because you give it to them. Shift your focus, and the reflection changes effortlessly. When you truly accept that you’re the one in control, nothing can stand in your way. You’ve always had the power!”

Now you can see how well it works!! You can even use them to give you affirmations, help you with vaunts. You can be as specific as you want, trauma dump as much as you want and say whatever you want without crossing boundaries or being judged. You can use Chat GPT to script, i’ve used it so many times and it has given me so many ideas. And your script will still feel like your own, just see it as your collaborating with Chat GPT and that it you helps put your thoughts into words.

You can even use it when you’re having one of those days and just need to be reminded of the fact that you’re in charge. You can even use it for some tough love or to comfort you as you vent.

Like guys you can do so many things with this, I love Chat GPT so much we’re locked in like this:

LMFAOOO IM JOKING (or am i? 😏)

But in all seriousness, some of you need this. Flooding bloggers asks and dms with questions that they have repeated the answers to multiple times, asking things you damn well know the answer to or just asking for motivation repeatedly can take away from people who actually have a good question to ask and actually need help. Like fogging up a blogger’s inbox repeatedly venting about the 3d, or asking “hOw Do I gEt iNtO tHe VoId?” knowing damn well you know the answer to that, will prevent a blogger from noticing someone who actually has a good question that many people might also have and would actually spark an interesting discussion.

So just ask Chat GPT, it’s okay to have doubts creep in from time to time, it’s okay to need a reminder of basic things, it’s okay to forget how powerful you are sometimes, but you can literally ask Chat GPT to help you with that and it will. Instead of waiting around for bloggers to answer your dm or ask just to say the same thing, you can get actual help, and get it when you want it and how you want it.

Why don’t you ask “explain the law of assumption to me like i’m 5”

“explain the void state to me from a scientific view to help me believe”

“give me some dream body affirmations”

“i’ve been so demotivated, remind me who tf i am again”

“I’m going to come from a filthy rich family when I permashift, can you give me some £10Million+ per year jobs that my desired parents can do”

“I feel so lazy today, bully me into inducing the pure consciousness instead of procrastinating”

you don’t need to harass bloggers for these things when you can have immediate access to the answers you seek.

ꨄ 🧸🎀 Go download Chat GPT and knock yourself out!! 💋

[imerian]

Vr46 academy keychains

Set of five charms that all match in different ways

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 . ✦　　˚　

Open for detailed pictures of each one

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ *ੈ✩‧₊˚

ִֶָ 𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆★⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

˖⁺‧₊˚⭒✮⭒˚₊‧⁺˖

. ݁₊ ✶. ݁ ˖ˎˊ˗

I ran out of tags so I'll say it here but i would greatly appreciate a reblog, especially if you share your thoughts on these pieces in tags (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

(Also i forgot that bez have matching part with luca so I didn’t add that to tags sorry

[cherry-pop-elf]

Over For Dinner

Art The Clown x Reader

AN: I got SO MUCH love for my Your Own Happy Ending so here we are with more horror x reader content!

Sum: Halloween had passed and Christmas was just around the corner. You were just doing some domestic things when you couldn’t help but notice a window was open. One you had locked

Warnings: 18+, Violence, gore, home intruder, Art being Art, MUTE Art (gotta take the disability rep when we can) gun violence, implied cannibalism, attempted sexual assault, (but we all know revenge is on its way. Shout out to my fellow victims that need their comfort killer to kill their abusers) it’s gonna get messy, very horror aesthetic story line, just. Art being art. (Needs another warning 😭) and of course domestic fluff as icing on this murder cake

“Honey! Where did you put the Christmas lights?!” You shouted to your boyfriend, only to stumble upon them in the kitchen. Just where he had left them for you.

“NEVER MIND-!”

You would grab the box, and started to hang the slightest all through out the interior of the home. Oh the joys of LED lights. Saves you money while still enjoying the festive spirit.

It wasn’t Halloween, sure, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t be fun. To enjoy the lights, music, sounds, and pleasures. Each holiday had its own little flavor. Some might not enjoy certain flavors, others may have a favorite. Doesn’t hurt to dabble in multiple.

You were humming away at some Christmas tune, while wrapping the lights or hanging them, when you stumbled upon an open window. You would poke your head out, and looked around. Was wondering where that draft came from.

You pulled your head back in, and then closed it shut. That’s when you noticed something was off with the lock. It was locked in place, yet the window had been open. You gave the window another look over and found that the wood work looked strange. Like someone shoved a crowbar between it and forced it open. The small splintering a reaction from it.

“Honey?” You called out, trying to reason that maybe it was his doing. Some kind of prank of sorts. Yeah. Your boyfriend was quite the card after all. Would make sense that he would do something wild. Always liked to keep you on your toes.

Still…..This wasn’t his style. Not his style at all. Was way too subtle. He’s NOT the subtle type.

You hurried back into the kitchen, and pulled out one of the knives from your block. Someone was inside the house. Someone who shouldn’t be.

“Hey honey?! You still in the attic?!” You called out, as you slowly walked the hallways. Maybe if you kept making it clear you weren’t the only one in the house that the intruder would get scared and run off. Right?

That’s what you hope anyway. You had a theory that this person assumed you lived alone. Your boyfriend always made sure to leave the house at night, and it was normally very late at night no less. People wouldn’t assume you had someone live with you.

“Honey?!” You called again, wondering why he wasn’t responding. Yeah he can’t respond, but he had ways to indicate he heard you. You made the effort to learn sign language for him, and he made the effort to find alternatives to share his voice with you.

Just where was it right now?

Slowly through the hallways you went. Each step as calculated as it could be. Every creak of a floorboard was memorized by all your little hide and seek games with your partner. All the corners treated with care. Any sound you heard was listened as hard as ears could muster.

Nothing but wind, cars driving by, and your own breathing.

Like a crack of lighting the back of your head was grabbed, and your face was slammed into the wall. Such pain made your body instinctively let go of your blade, and reach for where you hurt. Curse your human reaction. Hardly so much as touched your face when you were yanked away from the bloody wallpaper.

A arm was around your throat, and another around your waist. Your fingers tried to tear at the arm on your neck, but the invader was wearing thick clothing. No way for you to get any kind of hit. All you could do was fight to breathe.

“I know you are home all alone. That Honey bullshit isn’t fooling me. Now just play nice and you won’t get hurt more than needed. Got it?” The man would speak into your ear, as you felt cold metal being pressed against your temple.

Guess you gotta play nice.

“The hell do you want, huh?” You snapped. Suppose when your lover is a few lions short of a full circus you don’t get scared of dangerous situations as easy as you should. If this was between you and your boyfriend it would simply be foreplay.

“Well for starters money. You got yourself a pretty fancy house here. Not enough for security cameras, but it’s clear you got enough. I also want to have some fun with you. No point wasting a warm body.” He chuckled at you, as he would rub the gun across your body. Made you want to gag. Or was that just the borderline suffocation?

“Fuck off. For your information I do have a boyfriend. My boyfriend is an insane bastard no less. He’s going to turn you into mush for what you are doing to me. He’s around here somewhere. Must be behind the house helping decorate. You are dead meat when he comes in here!” You threatened, just to get the barrel of the gun pointed back at your temple.

“Oh will you fucking shut up? You got no boyfriend. I’ve been watching this house for ages. Never seen him once. It’s always just been you. I sure as hell never heard him either-!” That’s when you had to cut in. “He’s mute you shit head. Of course you wouldn’t hear him-!” That just made him laugh.

“You are really sticking to that whole boyfriend thing, huh? Well if it’s true then that means you know how to please a man. Don’t you?” That made you shiver in disgust, as he gave another tight hug around your waist. Just finding any excuse to touch you.

That’s when there was the sound of the back door opening.

“Who the fuck is that?” He would grit between his teeth, as you grinned.

“My boyfriend. Duh.”

That didn’t please him one bit. The attacker was soon trying to drag you somewhere else in the house. To try and maybe buy some time to think of how to handle two people against one. You sure made sure he struggled though. Kicking your legs, and trying to make a noise. The cold metal to your temple made it clear you couldn’t speak or it’s game over. So all you can do is legs.

He was making an attempt for the stairs, to try and make distance away from the back door, but that just gave you the perfect kicking items. You nailed each photo frame you could with your feet. Sent them crashing down, and glass breaking. Was very loud against the quiet house. Not to mention since it’s on the stairs they would go toppling down.

That noise alerted your boyfriend in an instant, and now he was at the bottom of the stairs.

He looked like such a normal guy. Snow was still fresh on his black boots and pants. A cozy white sweater and gloves. A nice finish was a black beanie. Looked like your typical string bean. The only thing that seemed off at all was his very defined nose. If not that, just another guy off the street.

“Watch it! I’m the one with the gun here! Don’t try anything or the bitch gets it!” The man would yell at your boyfriend, as said boyfriend held his hands up. Acting as if he was a scared man.

“We are going to do things my way. That means no funny business, got it?!” You couldn’t stop your snort, despite the dire situation. Had him look down at you, and press the gun harder into your temple.

“The hell is so fu-!”

Bang.

The intruder wasn’t the only one with a gun.

He was just to damn fast for the attacker to comprehend. One second he had a gun at your head, the next he was tumbling down the stairs. Screaming in pain, as he had been shot right into his hand.

“I warned ya! But no~! Someone wanted to be all big and tough huh?” You mocked, as you would come down the stairs. Stepped right over him, and gave your knight in shining armor a kiss of gratitude. Arms wrapped around his neck, and his own around your waist.

“Eh. Guess we should be good hosts and have him over for dinner. I know you love fresh meat.” You giggled, as your attacker was in pain and confusion. Didn’t have time to ask what you meant, before he was tossed over the shoulder of the man who shot him. Gun playfully spinning in his hand, as you focused on cleaning up the mess.

You would hum away, as you would hang up the photos that weren’t broken, meanwhile the intruder was screaming for help. Begging for god to save him.

There was no god here.

You would take the gun off the stairs, and bring it to a trunk that was stuffed full of weapons. Many your boyfriends, but most from all the other people who tried to fuck with the clown.

You locked it up, and came to the kitchen. Going to get some bleach from under the sink.

“Aw dammit. We ran out of bleach. Art, sweetie, do we have any in the pantry?” You looked over so casually, while the man was strapped down on the marble counter top. Currently having himself become a dissected mess. Organs currently being pulled out and separated.

Art would give you a nod, before getting back to work. That work being pull the man’s heart out, and offering it to you. Had you all giggly, as you kissed his bloody cheek.

“Aren’t you sweet. I’ll clean up the stairs while you finish with dinner. Guess we don’t have to worry about a Christmas ham this year. Thanks so much for coming over! Saved us alot of stress.” You would wave at the man, as he would soon just lay there. Eyes glossy from death pulling him to wherever his soul may lay.

“My hero.” You laughed, as you kissed his cheek again. Was happily returned, before you two nuzzled your noses together. As if simply newly weds.

What a way to start the holidays.

[gin-juice-tonic]

Talking about Journal 3 here. And Journal 3 only.

Some people considered it ungrateful behavior, but I always thought it was cute how Ford reacts to the two gifts Fiddleford gives to him.

Fiddleford presents him with one of his laptops, Ford acknowledges the extra effort Fiddleford put into it to make it accessible for his extra fingers, but is honest in his (written) opinion that he won't have any need for it because he already has his journals.

While we don't actually know how he reacted to Fiddleford directly, I think this reaction in the journal reads pretty autistic in a way. Societal convention to receiving a gift is to be happy about it, and if you aren't happy about it, you should fake like you're happy about it. But the reality is Ford's been given something he didn't ask for, something he doesn't really know how to use, something that's both bulkier and more delicate than his journal- which is the only thing he can really can really picture himself using the laptop for. Should he really have to use it just because Fiddleford made it for him? He considers the modifications for his fingers notable enough to include in his journal (and he considered the computer notable enough to draw), so I think it's safe to say he appreciates it. He's just not going to use it or pretend to use it.

"Why should I have to use a gift that I didn't want/request and is cumbersome to me?" Breaks a lot of social norms and can come across as rude, but really there's a logic to the reaction.

Then we get to the Squash with Human Face and Emotions. Fiddleford gives Ford an ugly gourd and claims it looks like him. Ford starts off his journal entry by saying he "appreciates the sentiment" before talking about how unnerved he is by it. This time he even admits to trying to keep it and putting it on a shelf in the lab out of politeness, despite how much he dislikes it initially. He does eventually decide on throwing it out after becoming even further disconcerted by it, but it's nice he tried. Again, this is something that got a whole journal page (+ a drawing of it - This thing that freaked him out so bad he started hearing things, forever immortalized in his journal).

He's not mean to Fiddleford about either of these things. He even tried in the 2nd case to appeal to social niceties at first. It's not that he doesn't appreciate the thought of his friend wanting to give him gifts, it's just they are cumbersome to him, and he doesn't force himself to utilize them. Is that a bad thing? I don't really think so.

[soleilapproves]

catalyst - chapter 1

Life has many twists and turns- yours included getting rejected from med school and ending up as a manager for your burnt-out pro boxer ex-boyfriend. (Sukuna x reader)

Notes: fem!reader

fanfic masterlist / main masterlist

Gravel crunched underneath your sneakers as you dragged them along the pavement. You had been running around the city with tired limbs and a resume in hand, trying to get a job after getting your last rejection letter from one of the medical schools you applied to.

Thank you for expressing interest in our medical program. Upon evaluating your transcripts, credentials, and extracurriculars, we regret to inform you that you are not eligible to join this year’s class. We will gladly consider your application for next year’s class if you wish to reapply. You may contact the admissions department for questions regarding the next application cycle.

Tears threatened to fall from your eyes again. You had been crying about your future for the past week. With all the hard work that went into all those volunteering hours, internships, and research assistantships, you were sure to get in.

But no, not in the system set up in this day and age. There will always be someone more qualified and well-connected than you. And even if they aren’t, they will always benefit from nepotism. 

Your feet dragged themselves till you couldn’t take it anymore. You broke down, ass landing on the curb in front of a random convenience store in the middle of some no-name neighborhood. Tears spilled down the apples of your cheeks as they drenched your chin and neck. The sky roared, and rain began to pour down. 

You wailed harder and tried to drown out the noise by yelling curses at the sky. You thought of all the tests you studied for, all the diagrams taped up on your walls, and all the money you spent on your applications. You had spent so much time and effort preparing for medical school that you couldn’t invest in a plan B. You needed a job to fund yourself, at least until you could get back up on your feet and figure out what you wanted to do, but to your misfortune, no one was hiring.

There was nothing more agonizing than being led astray from your original path. You began to question your abilities. Maybe if you had just paid attention in that class, you’d have an A instead of an A minus, or if you had just volunteered more, you’d seem more competitive. 

But it was all useless. What’s done is done. You groaned into your pruned hands. 

Then, all of a sudden, you could hear the muffled sounds of raindrops hitting canvas. “Funny, you seem different from how he described you.” You looked up to see a white-haired figure holding an umbrella over your head. “Uraume. No last name. Please come with me.”

You looked behind the figure and saw a sleek black Range Rover with tinted windows. It looked like it didn’t belong in this neck of the woods. Great, you were rejected from almost all the vacant positions in the city, and you were about to be trafficked for the benefit of wealthy people.

“I have a mace, so get away from me,” you said while walking away, not putting away much of a fight.

“Sukuna Ryomen. I’m sure you know him,” Uraume continued. “He needs you.”

Since when did traffickers start doing background checks on their victims? Your stomach churned as you began to walk faster, trying to outrun the chalky white-haired person who was now hot on your heels. However, having not eaten all day, you barely had the energy to pick up your speed, so you pulled your phone out to call the police, which, to your misfortune, was dead. You began to sob as you slowed down, and you noticed that the Range Rover was trying to catch up with you. 

It began to slow down beside you when its window rolled down. “Hey, it’s me, Yuuji!” 

You stopped, and so did the vehicle. Yuuji, your ex-best friend’s little brother, was smiling at you. “Just hear us out.” The boy (well, now a man) said with the most sincere eyes you had ever seen. Uraume walked towards you, covering your now-drenched body with their umbrella. 

-

You couldn’t believe your eyes- the once scrawny little kid you knew was now a tall man. Yuuji’s facial features had changed significantly. His round face was replaced by sharp angles (much like his older brother’s), and he also sported a few new scars (the ones beneath both his eyes being the most noticeable as they looked identical). He walked you through everything that had happened in Sukuna’s life since you both lost touch, while Uarume guided you both through the VIP area of the city’s most prominent hospital. They also casually added that they had a private investigator look into whatever you were up to in the past month, which freaked you out. No one wonder they knew way too much about you. 

It turns out that after you two lost touch, Sukuna became a famous boxing champion. He didn’t bother getting into the details of how it happened, but as far as you know, Sukuna never really expressed any interest in it whenever you were around. Yuuji pulled his phone out to show you his latest fight- the reason why he’s so battered up. 

You winced as you watched the clip, having a hard time trusting your eyes. There were many things you didn’t know about the martial arts world, but it was still shocking that you had no idea your ex was a famous and skilled fighter. It was apparent he had a knack for getting into fights with how he’d defend you whenever a bully charged towards you or a creep so much as to even looked your way. It never occurred to you that his punches were just that precise and had less recoil because he was training to be a professional fighter.

Now, here he was, on Yuuji’s phone screen, being beaten and battered like a piece of rice cake being pounded by a human mallet. “I thought you said he was good.” You mumbled. “He is, but he’s been burnt out and has refused any kind of treatment for it.

You raised your brow as the three of you stopped in front of a large wooden door. “And I’m here because?” 

“We have tried everything. Yuuji has to return to his classes soon, and I have never been able to connect with that man emotionally enough to support him through such a tough time. Even his therapist says he’s a lost cause because he refuses to cooperate.” Uraume says as they open the wooden door to reveal a large, dark hospital room. 

It takes you a while to register what’s going on, with the only source of light being the skyscrapers visible through the floor-to-ceiling panoramic windows on the opposite end of the room. In the middle of the room, against the wall, was a large hospital bed with a few monitors surrounding it. In it, you could see a mop of pink hair. 

Sukuna Ryomen- professional boxer and ex-boyfriend in the flesh. The steady rise and fall of his chest told you that he was asleep. The sight led to an invisible lump forming in your throat. The last time you’d seen him in person was when you both had your biggest fight together. A shiver went down your spine as you remembered all the hurtful words you had spat at each other. In that moment, neither of you could believe you could’ve been that hostile.

You’d only ever seen him sick with a fever, and he was horrible enough to deal with during that time. You couldn’t imagine how he was feeling right now. 

“As his manager, I’d like to hire you as his… well, I’m not sure what I’d call this position, but you’ll be making sure he gets better and is up to date with all his treatments and training,” Uraume said as they took you and Yuuji out the room. 

You sighed. “You want me to be his nanny?” 

“More like a personally involved manager, but we can have Sukuna’s doctor come up with a better name. Something to do with your field of interest. Her name is Dr. Shoko Ieri, and she’ll also be sure to refer you to all the good schools in the country so you can enroll in the next session.”

You didn’t know what to focus on first- the fact that you were offered a job (albeit a nanny for an adult) or that your idol, Shoko Ieri, was ready to refer you for your next applications. You had only ever seen her present at research conferences, all while you both had a common link this entire time. You felt lightheaded- the feeling of hope finally returning after a week of non-stop anxiety fits.

“So, do we have a deal?” Uraume extended their hand. 

But then again, things aren’t so good between you and Sukuna. At least from how you see things. Your relationship with him ended on a sour note, and even if you didn’t want to admit it, you did resent him a little for simply abandoning you and never making an effort to reach out again as you did. What if you failed? What if this whole thing ends up being one giant dumpster fire? 

You hesitantly looked at the pale hand in front of you. But then again, there was no way to go from here. What would you do anyway? Your paid internships never led to any full-time positions, and you barely had any money to get by after paying your rent for the next month. You also needed to pay for all the new applications and supplementary courses for your resume. 

“You should do it. They don’t like shaking hands with people, so this is major.” Yuuji whispered in your ears.

You gulped as your heart raced. In different circumstances, you would’ve said no, but you have nothing to look forward to besides getting a part-time job, which you knew wasn’t worth it with an offer like this to compete with it. You placed your hand in Uraume’s cold ones. They quickly shook your hand and pulled away like you had the plague (“They have a small case of germophobia,” Yuuji said later).

“When do I start?” you ask.

“Immediately. Since this job requires a lot of monitoring, I’ll have a few movers get your things and take them to Sukuna’s apartment. You’ll be living with him until he gets better” 

You didn’t know how to feel at that moment, chest still tight with the uneasiness from before. What you did know for sure was that Sukuna probably wouldn't be happy seeing you so at home in his personal space. 

[daretoassume]

Hello , I hope you see this.

I might be a bit desperate.

So 2 years ago I wanted to kill myself but then I had a huge “spiritual awakening” where I say things beyond human comprehension. And from that moment I decided to give life a chance, I knew that life actually had a meaning and that was for me to discover what was beyond what I could think. It gave my so much clarity of the world around me and who I was. From that moment I also started to randomly consciously manifest things without knowing about manifesting. I’m not kidding when I say this but in that time I manifested 6 million overnight while I was just kidding about being a millionaire while listening to my rich music and then when I woke up my parents had the good news. I also manifested others things that I thought where extremely special. But I didn’t really put in effort it was just fun experimenting with my powers.

So then I decided to deepen myself in the laws. I started with law of attraction. And I ended up meditating so deeply everyday that I was so passionate about finding the ultimate truth of reality inside me, that I was extremely depersonalised from my 3D and basically lived inside my brain. I could ask things and receive answers on my questions, like the one time i asked how to invent something that could end humanity ( I still have a full doc on how to build to most effective machine that could end humanity in less than second) I also got the answer of questions about reality and my vessel. So that’s when I realised there was nothing but me. And that I was experiencing myself from the experience of myself ( if that makes sense!) I found that there really was nothing and everything at once while I was giving meaning to it. So that’s when I started with extreme anxiety and depression because I struggled so much with intrusive thoughts, not being able to ground myself in this reality and being so so scared of my thoughts. Still to this day my thoughts scare me so much that I can’t help but experience anything other than fear from myself. It’s like I’m living in a constant nightmare. I have watched so much law of assumption post and videos dedicating every second of my day on being focused and disciplined to affirming and being in the state of having what I want, but it makes me so fuckiyn angry and I don’t know why. Everytime I see a post I feel depressed because deep down I know everything but everyday I wake up in the same reality where everything fucking sucks ( I have been forcing myself to be kind self love gratitude letting go void state visualisation whatever exist I’ve done it all) and when I finally have build up that trust that everything is working out in my highest favour and I always get what I want and the 3D can’t tell me nothing yk I can delude myself into knowing I have it but it’s been over a year and I just can’t bear this reality anymore I know I’m meant for another reality and there’s just nothing for me to find here anymore. And I really don’t know what to do anymore I feel like I’m stuck in this reality where everything seems to get worse. And my thoughts are also getting worded everyday for the last year but whenever I tried manifesting a better self concept mindset etc it got worse when i don’t even want to be the person that is in conflict with themsef because that’s just a idiotic thing to do. But can you help me out?🫶

what you experienced, everything that you learned, was so profound. it is truly a gift to have such insight, so treat it as such. try to examine why it scares you so deeply. there is something within that fear that is asking to be understood.

you have seen how effortlessly you created before, simply by being playful and detached. you were experimenting, having fun with it, and not placing too much importance on the outcome. that is why there was no resistance. things flowed into your reality flawlessly. you already understand the law. you know how to apply it to your life. you do not need another blog post or video to teach you what you already know.

what you need now is to go deeper within yourself, to truly understand why you feel this way. these feelings are not here to torment you but to guide you toward something deeper. perhaps there is a message waiting for you, something significant you need to uncover, or even a realization that you are meant to share with others. your emotions, no matter how overwhelming, are part of your journey. they may be pointing you toward a greater understanding of yourself and your purpose.

if you feel an inner pull to create something meaningful, to express yourself, or to pursue something that sparks joy, do not ignore it. act on it. even if it feels small or insignificant at first, do it. follow what excites you, even in the simplest of ways.

i know it’s easier said than done, especially when it feels like the weight of the world is on your shoulders. but remember, we both know the truth—what we focus on expands. even a small shift in focus toward what you prefer can create change. we often feel so much these days that we forget to acknowledge what we can be grateful for. take a moment and ask yourself: what are you truly grateful for right now? your family, your friends? doesn’t it bring you some happiness to know you’ve learned so much already? i am not saying you are ungrateful. i am suggesting that maybe starting with gratitude, even in the smallest way, could help shift your attention, even just a little.

as you take time for introspection to truly understand what is behind these emotions and why you feel the way you do, you might also set some goals for yourself. try doing something that excites you, even if it’s small. i know this reality can feel limiting, and maybe that’s why you feel like you don’t belong here. but if you see it as a curse, then that’s the experience you will live out.

what if you see it as an opportunity to discover something profound within yourself? what if the very limitations you feel are only reflections of the state you’re currently in, waiting for you to shift?

you don't have to force yourself to change everything all at once. just start small, day by day.

you already know how powerful you are.

[fanbasetwo]

Hii love! I couldn’t tell if your asks are open or not but I wanted to request reader having their first kiss with hao </3☹️

I love your writing so much btw! 🤍

NOTE : my asks are always open but you can still check it out on the pinned post where I do mention the ask status (if it's closed or not) this is my first hao ask btw + tysm for the compliment, I'm glad you enjoy my works 💕 MASTERLIST!!

You and Zhang Hao had been together since high school. When it was time to grow up and explore job opportunities, the two of you managed to make long-distance work, though you’d always joked about who’d be the one to kiss first once you reunited. When Hao finally moved back to your city after landing a job, things shifted—not in a bad way, but definitely in a new direction. You both decided to live together because, honestly, after five years of dating, it didn’t feel like a big leap.

Still, there were moments of awkwardness, like when you’d share the same bed at night. Sure, you’d cuddle, but neither of you ever took it further—not because you didn’t want to, but because you were both too shy to take the first step. Every touch felt hesitant, every glance carrying the weight of unspoken feelings.

“Hao?” you whispered, nudging him gently. He was sprawled on the bed after a long day at work, clearly exhausted. You both split rent evenly, and lately, you’d noticed how much effort he put into his job. He hummed softly, his body shifting as he turned on his side to face you. Without a word, he pulled you closer, his arm draped around your waist.

“Did you have a hard time at work?” you asked, your voice barely above a murmur as your sleepy eyes met his. He blinked at you, his gaze warm yet hesitant, before one hand reached up to cup your cheek.

“It’s not work,” he said quietly, shaking his head slightly.

“Then what is it?” you pressed, your curiosity piqued.

He hesitated for a moment, his thumb gently brushing against your skin. “It’s about us,” he admitted, his voice soft but tinged with uncertainty. “Are you... not attracted to me anymore?” The question caught you off guard, and you frowned, trying to piece together why he’d think that. “Of course I’m attracted to you,” you replied quickly, your tone laced with confusion. “Why would you feel otherwise?”

He let out a small sigh, looking almost embarrassed. “Because... you never, you know... take any hints. And you don’t really drop any hints either. About wanting... my kisses.”

His words trailed off, his cheeks dusted with a faint pink as he avoided your gaze. You stared at him for a moment before giggling softly, the nervousness between you both dissolving just a little. “Is it because I smell?” he asked suddenly, his tone half-serious, making you laugh even harder.

“Hao, no!” you managed to say through your giggles, shaking your head. “I’m just... nervous.”

“Then... can we do it now?” Hao's voice was barely a whisper, his nose brushing against yours as his hand rested gently on your cheek.

“Right now?” you echoed, your heart racing at his sudden question. His shy yet eager nod made your cheeks flush, and though you wanted to take the lead, the thought itself made you feel timid.

“Okay,” you murmured, giving a small nod of your own.

Neither of you moved at first, the shyness between you lingering in the space where your breaths mingled. It was as though a silent agreement passed between you: close your eyes and let it happen naturally. You squeezed your eyes shut, nerves buzzing through your entire body. And then, it happened—a soft, fleeting brush of his lips against yours. The touch sent a jolt down your spine, warm and electric, leaving you breathless even in its gentleness.

Both of you were lying on your sides, facing each other, and though the moment was slightly awkward, it was perfect in its own way. You tried to remember the romantic scenes you'd seen in dramas and movies, hesitantly capturing his upper lip between your own. Hao followed suit, tentatively suckling on your bottom lip, his movements clumsy yet tender. The kiss was inexperienced, both of you unsure of what to do next, but that only made it more endearing.

Your lips moved together in a rhythm that was anything but polished, yet the emotions behind it made your chest feel tight in the best way. With every soft press, every subtle tilt of your heads, you felt your connection deepen.

It wasn’t perfect or seamless, but it was real, filled with the quiet love and nervous excitement you’d built over the years.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, faces mere inches apart as you opened your eyes. Hao’s lips were slightly parted, his cheeks glowing with a faint blush as he grinned at you.

“That was...” he began, trailing off as he searched for the right word.

You giggled, touching your lips lightly. “Messy?”

“Perfect,” he corrected, his gaze soft and adoring.

[blueishspace]

Hero, Villain God 12

(Prev) (Next) (First)

*Grian's pov*

In the end it is not vigilantism or villainy that ends up being the hardest part of this act you have created.

It isn't even music production as even though Ariana's youtube's channel takes a lot of effort and skill you did not expect to need it is still not that big of an hassle once Mumbo decided to help you.

No, the biggest challenge yet is mundanity, Grian was only a being you created as a civilian identity to stand behind the other more interesting personan... You put thought into the other but you never thought too much about how to be a civilian.

You have created yourself an identity but you never prepared yourself for living with it and you are slowly realising that knowing from an outside perspective how to do something is much different from actually doing it...Also as the god of chaos the rules of reality tend to slightly bend around you which makes doing menial tasks paricularly complex...

...Case in point: Cooking. You thought it would be easy, you have seen others do it in the past so it shouldn't have been hard.

And yet, "shouldn't" is the key word.

"Mumbo? You are back...sooner then I expected"

"This...this is the time I normally come home"

"Oh ..."

"Grian, what?"

"Did your hair...lose...weight?"

"Grian? Are you cooking something?"

"Yeah ... You could say that"

"W-well mate, what do you mean by that?"

"I was cooking...before"

"Y-yeah? So? Did something happen? Did something break? 'Cause that's fine, mistakes happen."

"I uh...I might have burnt the water"

"What... ... How? That's uh... not possibile?????"

"The water just caught on fire"

"That's not- what??????"

Of course then he hears the clucking, great timing, this is humiliating.

"Is that... A chicken in the kitchen?"

"Nooo, why would there be chicken in the kitchen? That would be weird."

"... There is a chicken in the kitchen, why? How??"

"I tried to break an egg and a chicken popped put"

"... Was there something in my coffee? This just isn't...ok whatever, I'm done. We have a chicken now I guess, sure why not?"

"Uh... are you going to name it?"

"You birthed it, It's your responsability now. I'm going to bed and reconsidering my life now"

...You ended up calling the chicken Cluck, hardly original but you have never been good at creating very original names.

*Mumbo pov*

Grian is an... Interesting roomate. He's exceptionally smart sometimes, he knows a lot of the natural world and hystory... He says very specific scientific facts like they are common knowledge...

He's also extremely talented at singing, which is especially impressive since he's doing so at an higher pitch then his speaking voice... It's almost like he changes vocal cords... And his drag persona? Ariana? It's stunning. You can't believe how good it is.

...

...He's also, and you mean it in the nicest way possible, a weirdo. He's not creepy or anything like that but he's extremely bad at being a normal person. You wonder about his past sometimes but you refuse to bother him about it, you of all people should know why someone would like to keep their past a secret... still you do wonder, for a man who says to have no powers he sure acts like he does.

Despite everything though...you can't deny you are getting used to his presence, he was supposed to be an alibi for you to hide your villainy behind but... Ugh, you spoon! You shouldn't have gotten this attached to this guy and you are probably going to get more attached as time passes.

It's fine, you can deal with this, hiding behind him has always been plan z and plan a has yet to fail, your project will be a success.

And if anyone does try anything... There is a reason you are called the Boogeyman.

[dumpsterfire-daydreams]

Hmmm~ After the way this chapter ends, I wonder what will happen next~ Hold onto your butts though, because a wild twist is coming very very soon!

Brooding Ghost, horny Ghost, sexually frustrated Ghost, surprised Reader, inquisitive Reader, [classified information lol. just read for the full details]

Ghost POV:

Though everyone else had happily found their way to the mess hall after sparring practice, Ghost had completely lost his appetite. There was a sickness curdling in his stomach and it had nothing to do with digestion. It it was, it'd be preferable to what he was feeling. No, all of this was instead coming from his head. From his emotions. He sullenly traversed the halls of the barracks like a vengeful wraith. On his march to his room, everyone immediately gave him a wide berth as he passed. No one dared utter a word to him, his simmering expression making doubly sure of that. But even so, he still heard their whispers. Everyone was abuzz about his moment of humiliation. And it pissed him off. It was bad enough that the girl had unmasked him like that in front of the entire team. That she’d managed to catch him off guard when he should have had the upper hand from start to finish. But the whirlwind of heated gossip whipping through the base only made it worse.

Ghost wasn’t necessarily sore that his mask had been removed. In truth, he’d been seen without it a handful of times. Sometimes, combat got a little unruly and it couldn’t be avoided if he wanted to make it out alive. A few team mates had spotted him when he’d thought he was alone and craved sunlight on his skin. So it wasn’t just about his mask coming off. It was that she had been the one to do it. Her, the seductive thorn in his side that he couldn’t manage to dig out. It seemed that no matter what he did, his mind was haunted with her presence whether she was there in the flesh or not.

He’d tried giving her the cold shoulder in an effort to keep her distant - and to keep his hands off her. But she still drew him in like a star caught in the greedy pull of a black hole. He’d scared her shitless last night when he'd put his hands on her, unable to resist the tempting opportunity. But that peek at his more dangerous side should have sent her running like hell. And it hadn’t. He hadn’t held back during sparring either. He’d roughed her up a bit and admittedly taken things a step too far in the end. But no matter what he did, he couldn’t get her to leave, stay away from him, or stay out of his head.

Losing his cool during their match was yet another pain point to add to his lengthy list. He never lost it like that. Ever. No one made his cold, distanced demeanor crack. It was his trademark, what he was known for. But she had come along and made him snap in a matter of seconds. She’d done it easily, too. Acting in blissful ignorance, unaware of just how much control she wielded over him. How every brief moment of contact made him ache with need for more. How his hands had been desperate for any excuse to hold her, to touch her. How his cock had been throbbing painfully in his pants the entire time. And how it was continuing to do so even now.

Ghost sat in his room, sulking through the lunch hour. His stomach was beginning to protest at the lack of food, but it would have to wait. There was too much on his mind right now. And the last thing he needed added to it was a hoard of chattering people on all sides. What Ghost needed most was to try to sort through everything he was feeling. Emotions were never his strong suit. In order to do what he did so well, they had to be viewed as dangerous distractions and nothing more. But while he had the time, he did his best to pick apart just what he was feeling in an effort to find some manner of relief.

Anger. Annoyance. Frustration. Hatred. Envy. Longing. Desire. Hunger. Need.

All of those terms eventually came through loud and clear. But the consistent cord that connected them all was arousal. Desperate, unrelenting arousal. Perhaps that was the key he was looking for. Maybe tugging that one cord would unravel the maddening knot of feelings that continued to expand in his mind.

With a resigned huff, he reached into his closet and grabbed his soiled glove from his hamper. He’d thrown it in there in a brief fit of frustration. But deep down, he knew he could never bring himself to wash it - to wash her away. Maybe he should. Maybe it was things like this that made this nightmare even more of a living hell. But at the same time, if he couldn’t have her, this vulgar trace might be the closest he’d ever get to the real thing.

“Just need to get this outta my system,” he reasoned, inhaling in the remnants of her intoxicating scent that lay trapped within the woven fibers. He hurriedly undid his belt and shoved his hand down his trousers, firmly grasping his throbbing erection in his fist. “A quick wank oughta do it. Then you get your fucking shit together, Ghost.”

He knew how low he looked. Honestly, he felt pretty low, too. Sitting alone in his darkened room, frantically tugging at his cock while huffing a slick-stained glove. It felt juvenile. It made him feel like a hormonal teen whose sole mission in life was to finally touch a girl for the first time. He shouldn’t have to resort to this, not at his age. Not when the girl of his dreams was sitting right there within his reach. Ghost did his best to shove his raging jealousy down once and for all, hoping a quick release would clear his mind. But as he shot his load with a muffled growl, that feeling just came back even stronger. All his body craved was her. And anything less than that just made him crave her even more. It was like being offered a cup of ice when what you really wanted was ice cream. No matter how much of it you were given, it would never meet that need. It would never be enough. This would never be enough.

“Ghost!” Price banged on his door as he hurried passed. “EMT starts in ten!”

Ghost rolled his eyes, falling back onto his bed. And as he laid there, scowling up at the ceiling and cursing the day König’s girlfriend had first set foot on base, he wanted nothing more than to remain there for the rest of the day.

Reader POV:

As you gathered your shower supplies in your room, the idea of a hot shower was sounding better and better. And since Ghost was leading a practice everyone else was guaranteed to be at for a good while, it was the perfect time to claim the bathroom while you still had it to yourself.

The entire time you changed, your mind was completely hooked on the latest secret König had teased. The suspense was killing you! Part of you wanted to shoot him a text or call him. Or get a hold of Price and tell him you needed König and it was an emergency. But you quickly thought better of it. You could all too easily see such a message sending a stampede of concerned armed men towards your room to figure out what was wrong. It looked like you'd just have to suck it up and be patient.

After slipping out of your sweat-stained clothes and slipping on your bathrobe, you threw a few items into your shower caddy. Then you slowly made your way down the hall in search of the bathroom. Your muscles were still aching from that morning's face off. And you knew a moment of solitude paired with hot water raining down on your back would be the perfect way to recharge.

You’d seen pictures of military shower rooms before, so you had a general idea of what to expect. A large portion of a room that functioned as one giant communal shower with benches along its periphery. A row of shower heads that ran along the top of the wall with individual controls installed under each one. Tile walls and flooring that sloped ever so slightly towards the center of the room where a drain was located.

You hoped the shower heads had a good range of motion. Because, if you could line it up just right, the temptation to just lie on your stomach and let all the water massage your back was very strong. But you were immediately disappointed when you entered the bathroom. There was a short corridor of shelves where you could stash bags or clothing. Off to the right were multiple sinks, urinals, and bathroom stalls. And directly ahead were the showers. They were exactly as you had expected, down to the little benches. Everything looked perfect! But sitting in the middle of the furthest one was someone else who apparently had the same shower schedule that you had.

Ghost sat facing the wall back, hunched over and rummaging through his bag in search of something. Rivulets of water were trailing down the broad expanse of his back before disappearing into a towel that cinched low around his hips. He must have just finished a shower a few minutes ago.

You considered saying something to alert him to your presence, but instead chose to remain silent and watch him with curiosity. You'd never had the chance to really look at him without his glare making you shy away. And without all his gear or his constantly hardened gaze, he almost looked human. It didn't surprise you that he was still wearing his mask though. You doubted he was crazy enough to actually waterboard himself by showering with it on. He’d most likely slipped it back into place as soon as his face and hair were sufficiently dry. But who knew for sure? What did surprise you were the jagged scars criss-crossing over his back. They were all healed and some looked older than others. But you could tell from the way they looked that each one must have been excruciating to earn.

A few seconds later, he withdrew his hand from his bag. A gentle clicking sound echoed off the tile walls as he lit a cigarette and took a long draw. The smoke floated through the air as the pungent scent of burnt tobacco filled the room. Ghost exhaled, blowing a cloud of smoke out through his mask.

"Done staring yet?"

He’d spoken the words without so much as a glance over his shoulder. He’d known you were there the whole time!

“I’m sorry, I was just going to take a shower,” you stammered.

“Then why aren’t you showering?”

“Smart ass,” you muttered internally. But you straightened your back and continued into the bathroom. It looked like he’d be on his way out soon and you were determined to get the shower you craved. But while the opportunity presented itself, you figured now was as good a time as any to try to smooth things over as best you could.

“I wanted to apologize about the thing with your mask,” you said hesitantly. “I didn’t know it was a sensitive thing for you. But I crossed a line and I’m really sorry.”

Ghost didn’t speak right away, instead raising the cigarette back to his lips and inhaling again before responding.

"You saw an opening and you took it. Nothing to be sorry about. You’re the talk of the base now anyway. Don’t lie, I know you’re enjoying it, too."

There was a long moment of uncomfortable silence. You didn’t really know how to respond to that statement. And it was hard to tell if it was an insulting dig or an innocent observation. So, instead of answering, you tried to distract yourself by pulling items out of your shower caddy. In the background, the steady rhythm of Ghost’s smoking continued.

He breathed out, surrounding himself in a light haze before speaking again. “...You okay?”

The question completely caught you off guard. After how ruthless he’d been in the gym, the last thing you had expected was for him to care about how you felt afterward. There was something hesitant in his tone, too. It was almost repentant. Knowing him, this was probably his distanced way of apologizing. And you suspected it was the closest you’d get to the real thing.

“I’m fine,” you said, accepting the meager olive branch. “Just a little sore.”

Ghost grunted softly before returning to his cigarette, going quiet again. Apology or not, you hoped he’d quickly finish his cigarette and just leave so you could de-stress in peace. After your chat with König, there was a lot on your mind that you wanted to sort through. And you wanted to sort through it alone. The last thing you needed was a peeping tom loitering just a few steps away. So you took your time arranging your body wash and shampoo on the shelf suspended beneath the first showerhead.

"Why are you here, Y/n?" His voice sounded exasperated. Or annoyed. It was hard to tell.

You stopped, bewildered at the odd question. "I came to visit König."

"No," he said, finally turning to face you and rising to his feet. “Why are you here? In here with me instead of out there with your mates? After what I did to you, you should be running like hell. You could have run the minute you saw me in here. But you didn’t. So why stay?”

“I told you,” you gave him a nervous laugh, pulling a small loofa out of your shower caddy and setting it down beside your body wash. “I need to take a shower. Anyway, Price wants us to get along. So I guess that’s another reason why I haven’t left.”

Ghost huffed again, crossing his arms and giving you a pointed stare. And when you met his eyes across the room, a wave of exasperation hit you like a load of bricks.

“Look,” you sighed, mirroring his pose. “I know you don't like me, okay? You’ve made that very clear. But let’s just get this assignment over with. Then we can both move on, go our separate ways, and you can hate me as much as you'd like.”

“...You think I hate you?” he asked, slowly starting to approach.

“Honestly, Ghost? I don’t know what to think anymore! You avoided me like the plague when I first got here. Then you fucking assaulted me last night! And then this morning, you almost broke my neck. What am I supposed to think?”

“Do you know what an addiction feels like?” he asked, abruptly changing the topic as he drew nearer to where you stood.

As he walked, your eyes couldn't help but flit down to the waist of his towel. A triangular section of his hips crested above the soft fabric, tilting in a gentle sway in sync with his steps. His torso rose upward in a sharp “V”, the edges of various muscles creating defined lines that hugged the base of his stomach as it tapered outward. Water glistened on his bare skin in a sheen, and tiny droplets of water clung to the light hairs on his chest. You swallowed the growing lump in your throat and tried to make sense of his question, slowly lifting your eyes as he stared down at you.

“Do I what?”

Ghost continued his advance, following his train of thought almost absentmindedly. And images of the previous night flickered through your mind as your back met the shower wall. But he didn’t stop until there was only an inch of separation between your bodies. His hand slowly rose, and for a moment, you thought he was going to grab you by the throat all over again. But this time, his hand rose higher as he reached for your hair. His fingers wound themselves in one of the stray spirals, gently tugging at it. As he spoke, he watched transfixed as it stretched before slipping from his grasp and bouncing back against your temple in a tight coil.

“All it takes is one taste. Then you’re fucked. It sinks its teeth into you, dragging you back like a slave no matter how hard you fight. No matter how strong you think you are. No matter who or what is in your way. It's obsession. Hunger. Need. A craving so strong, you feel like you’d die unless you kept coming back for more.”

He paused. His eyes were intense as always, but beneath that fire was a hint of pleading. They looked desperate and haunted. It felt like he wanted to say more. But he paused, taking a deep breath. “Do you know what that feels like?”

“No?” Your answer came out hesitantly, like a question. You’d never seen him like this before. Expressive? Conversational, even. It was like he was in a trance.

“That’s what I feel when I’m near you. When you look at me? When you’re close to me? That’s what I feel. I can’t get you to stay the fuck out of my head and it pisses me off.”

His gaze burned as he went on. “I want you. I want you and I want you so bad it bloody hurts. I could give you everything you need that König can’t give. I could do it right here, right now. So why the fuck won’t you just let me?”

“Because I can’t do that to König, Ghost,” you said, carefully. “I can’t hurt him like that.”

“I’m not asking about him,” he rasped, pressing in even closer. His hips pressed flush against you and you could feel the unmistakable outline of his desire pressing against you too. “I’m asking about you. I need to know you want me too.”

[idksomethinggay]

Imagine, Jason starts becoming closer with the batfam after the whole dying, coming back etc.

Jason sees how much effort Dick puts into being a good older brother to the rest of the batfam. Jason feels resentful. All he wanted was to be loved, to have a big brother. And when he died Dick became that.

Jason starts making jokes towards Dick. “Look who became a good brother when I was gone”, “dam where was this protective older brother when I was around”. Etc.

The resentment builds in Jason until one day he breaks. He sees Dick comforting Tim after he got hurt in the field.

“Wow so you can be an older brother.” He says then storms off.

Dick makes sure Tim is okay and then tracks down Jason. Dick finds him crying in the library. Dick sits down beside him.

“I’m sorry Dick. I am trying not to feel resentment about you and Bruce. All I ever wanted was a family, and once I died you guys became one.”

Dick hugs him and lets him cry. Dick pulls out a photo album.

“Can I show you something?”

Dick opens the album. The first few pictures are formal. Dick and Bruce posed in front of a school. Alfred, Bruce and Dick in front of a Christmas tree. Then Dick turns the page. All of these images are full of smiles. Dick and Jason making a mess in a kitchen trying to cook. Jason and Dick with giant stuffies they won. Bruce and Jason asleep, snuggled up together in the living room. Alfred, Dick and Jason decorating cookies. There are pages and pages of happy memories.

Jason doesn’t remember this. He tries but the pit took so much.

“Jason, it wasn’t your death that made us a family. It was you. Me and Bruce were partners. We fought crime together. Other than that Alfred took care of me. When you came around Bruce became a father. I became a brother. You taught me what it means to have siblings. You taught me what it means to have a family again. I’m sorry you don’t remember it. I’m sorry you were gone when the rest of our siblings joined. I’m sorry I missed out on years of being your big brother.”

Dick starts to cry. Jason closes the book to hug his brother.

Alfred finds them asleep on the floor of the library a few hours later. He takes the book out of their hands, places a blanket over them and snaps a photo.

[fairyniceyeah]

💎🍚At the party, cheers 

Title from CHEERS (SEVENTEEN)

Summary: Jihoon tries alcohol for the first time at his birthday party. He wishes he hadn’t.

CW: Emeto

Sickie: Jihoon/Woozi Caretakers: Seungcheol/S.Coups + Joshua

“To uri Jihoonie”, Seungcheol saluted and raised his glass. The rest of the group followed swiftly, raising their glasses and cheering Woozi’s name.

Jihoon blushed, hiding his face behind his hand. Soonyoung laughed at him, clinking their glasses together. 

“Don’t be shy, Jihoon-ah”, he said grinning brightly, “be careful, tomorrow is all about you. Get used to it.”

They were all gathered in a big room at the company, a table laden with food between them. It was Jihoon’s birthday the next day but due to heavy schedules they had decided to celebrate it early with a nice dinner and going to bed late. If anybody had asked Jihoon if he wanted that, he would have told them no. But instead Jeonghan and Joshua had kidnapped him from his studio and brought him to the room where the rest of the team, as well as some managers, stylists and other company staff were waiting for them. 

It floored Jihoon how much effort they had put into the celebration and how well they had hidden it. He hadn’t suspected a thing. 

So instead of saying something that might be seen as ungrateful like “you didn’t have to” he settled on: “Thank you, guys. Really, I appreciate it.”

They settled down quickly, all of them eyeing the mouth-watering food in front of them. Sandwiched between Joshua and Soonyoung, Jihoon had to admit it was nice. After they had debuted team dinners hadn’t really been on the agenda, so this was a great respite. Sure, they had done team dinners on other members birthdays or the days surrounding them but it was special nonetheless.

“Three. Two. One. Happy Birthday, Jihoon-ah”, a chorus sounded, followed by cheers and hugs that Jihoon didn’t feel like refusing today. Not on his birthday. He could indulge if he wanted to.

Once most of the food had been devoured the staff had brought out a cake and now a knife was pressed into Jihoon’s hand to cut it. Seungkwan and Seokmin alike had complained how they were supposed to eat cake after the huge dinner but somehow they were the first to hold out their plates when Jihoon carefully handed out pieces. 

“Jihoon-ah?”, Seungcheol said quietly from across Jihoon and held out a bottle of soju. “You wanna try?”

Unlike Jun, Soonyoung and Wonwoo who had tried alcohol the first time that New Year’s day - the first day of a year that somebody turned 19 years old they were after all legally allowed to - Jihoon had refused. He had never seen the appeal of alcohol and even now he hesitated. He just didn’t see the point in getting drunk.

But, what the hell, one drink wouldn’t hurt. He nodded at Seungcheol and then they toasted again, Jun and anybody younger than Jihoon with juice and the older ones with a glass of soju. Using Seungcheol as a role model, Jihoon just drank the shot in one go. He shuddered. While it was slightly sweet it was an acquired taste. 

Soonyoung just laughed and even Joshua grinned at him, slightly teasing. 

“Not a fan?”, Joshua asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Uh, well, I’ve had worse?”

“Do you want another one now that you joined us old ones?”, Soonyoung questioned, taking the bottle from Seungcheol and pouring himself another glass.

“Yeah, why not?”, Jihoon agreed and they clinked glasses before drinking the shot. The others cheered, smiling at Jihoon’s renewed wince.

“You’ll get there.” Jeonghan laughed.

The attention faded from Jihoon soon enough and they broke out into small conversation groups. Soonyoung, Joshua and Jun started a conversation about alcoholic drinks in different countries to which Jihoon couldn’t contribute much. His parents hadn’t drunk alcohol either, so his experience and knowledge was really limited. 

After a few minutes of listening Jihoon took off his sweater. It might have been the end of November but he was feeling really hot all of a sudden. A headache pulsed in his temples - surely a result of long nights at the studio. He wouldn’t really mind going to bed soon, especially with the tight schedules that day, worsened by his mandated birthday v-live. 

“Oh, Woozi-yah.” Soonyoung suddenly laughed and Jihoon turned to look at him in confusion. “I always thought you were a ketchup/mayo person with your pale skin and ability to get a sunburn even on cloudy days but even alcohol really turns you red, huh? Our sweet little lobster.”

Jihoon frowned at the comparison, slightly annoyed with Soonyoung. The other members had seemingly heard and there was laughter all around. As Joshua held out his phone, camera activated, Jihoon saw what Soonyoung meant. His face and his neck were flushed red and it was not from the embarrassment.

“Shut up, idiot”, he grumbled, crossing his arms. Under all the attention his heart was beating faster every second and he really didn’t feel like dealing with teasing. The hotness had not abated at all, neither did the headache. 

The renewed giggling at his grumpiness didn’t make anything better but Seungcheol threw the others a few pointed glances, apparently noticing that Jihoon was not in the mood. 

Watching Soonyoung and Jun debate the pros and cons of soju and beer was like a ping pong match. The two were getting louder and using animated gestures that made Jihoon’s head swim. Actually, no, everything was tilting. It was not nice at all.

Not really thinking about it, Jihoon rested his head against Joshua’s shoulder, turning his face so he was hidden against Joshua’s neck. The older didn’t even stop his conversation with Seungcheol, just wrapped his arm around the producer and pulled him closer. 

Jihoon groaned as his stomach swooped. Even hiding didn’t make him feel better. There was a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach that did not feel good at all. It was like he could feel the soju swimming around with all the food and the cake and, oh, he had eaten way too much to be comfortable. 

At the pitiful sound he made Joshua stopped talking and looked down at Jihoon. “Hey there”, he whispered, “long nights catching up to you?” He seemed mostly unconcerned, thinking that Jihoon was just tired. Which he was, just not just.

“I feel weird, hyung”, Jihoon whispered back, not even caring anymore about keeping up appearances. He wanted everything to stop. He wanted peace and quiet and a bed.

But Joshua just softly laughed. "You're just tipsy, Jihoon-ah. Maybe two shots as your first experience with alcohol wasn't the greatest idea. Just drink some water."

If this was how tipsy felt then Jihoon was never drinking again. He didn't like it one bit. 

Joshua handed him a cup of water and Jihoon took a few sips. It was cold in his stomach, a stark contrast to how the rest of his body was feeling. It didn’t help.

"I want some fresh air", Jihoon mumbled, unsteadily rising to his feet. "It's so stuffy in here."

"Alright, but I am not letting your slightly drunk self wander the company halls alone", Joshua said and gripped his elbow, before rising to his feet.

"What’s wrong?”, Seungcheol asked. That was when Jihoon noticed everybody had grown silent and was watching them. This was not going the way Jihoon wanted. Nobody was supposed to pay attention to him.

“We're just getting some air, it's warm in here and Jihoon-ah is tipsy”, Joshua addressed the leader, “we'll be back in a bit. You all enjoy the party. We don’t have many opportunities like this.”

With Joshua holding onto his arm, Jihoon slipped out of the room. 

Walking was even more awful than sitting. How could walking make everything so much worse? 

Actually, no. It wasn’t the movement that made him feel even more like shit out of a sudden. At least he didn’t think so. It was more like one of his migraines when they hit without warning - the headache, the hotness, the vertigo. The nausea. But it couldn’t be.

Joshua was tugging him along gently, talking about this and that. Jihoon couldn’t pay attention.

Then …

💎

… it hit him like a freight train. One second he was feeling bad, the next it tipped him over the edge. Suddenly he was so queasy he had to keep swallowing the excess saliva that was building in his mouth. His feet were rooted to the ground. His stomach felt so unsettled that he was sure if he took another step he’d spew. 

What a terrible way to start a birthday packed with schedules. 

As he stopped dead in his tracks, Joshua whirled around, frowning.

“Jihoon-ah?”, he asked, then his eyes went wide. Jihoon lifted his hands to his face, pressing them to his mouth as he audibly gagged. The taste of soju on his tongue again wasn’t good. His stomach churned anew and he knew he was running out of time.

“Can you make it to a bathroom?” Joshua had a hint of panic in his voice. Jihoon shook his head, swallowing against the bile rising in his throat. His hyung rushed over and tried to pull him to the right direction but it was too late. All Jihoon could do was twist himself out of Joshua’s grip and lurch to the side before he burped up the first mouthful of alcohol, chocolate cake and various dinner foods. Directly into a poor potted plant that was just standing innocently in the hallway.

“Shit”, Joshua mumbled, rubbing Jihoon’s back as he continued to expel a mix of reeking alcohol and dinner. Luckily the spell didn’t last long and Jihoon was able to spit out some saliva before straightening a bit. His head was pounding in beat with his too rapid heartbeat and the nausea had reached a balance of feeling awful but I’m not gonna be sick in the next few minutes. 

“You really are a lightweight, huh?”, Joshua mumbled, helping Jihoon take a few steps away from the mess and studying him thoroughly, “I should have guessed with your …”

He gestured up and down Jihoon’s body. Maybe Jihoon should have been offended by the insinuation that his height and weight made him pathetically sick the moment he drank but he couldn’t deny that it was likely. 

“Can we just get to a bathroom?”, Jihoon whispered, humiliated. Throwing up in a potted plant really had not been on his birthday wish list. Also, the nausea wasn’t leaving, if anything it was growing again.

As Jihoon tried to take a step, his knees buckled and he would have fallen if not for Joshua’s reflexes. Everything was spinning.

“We’re never gonna make it there with you in this state. I’m gonna give you a piggyback ride, okay?”, Joshua suggested, though his tone left no place for arguments. Jihoon exhaustedly nodded. He didn’t think that he’d make it that far - or any further than two steps. 

The older vocalist crouched down in front of him and reluctantly Jihoon wrapped his knees and arms around him. The sudden heightgain was making the dizziness worse and he groaned, dropping his head against Joshua’s back.

“Please don’t throw up on me”, Joshua said, a slight beg to his voice.

“I make no promises”, Jihoon replied, defeated.

They made it to the bathroom - but only barely. As soon as Joshua set him down in front of the toilet bowl, Jihoon immediately started gagging again, spit dripping into the water. He took a deep breath trying to calm himself down. It was a bad idea. He managed to choke a bit on the air he inhaled which triggered a small coughing fit. Immediately a gush of sick splattered into the water, turning it a disgusting, chunky brown. 

“Oh, Jihoonie”, Joshua whispered, holding back Jihoon’s hair from his forehead. “You’re really not holding your liquor well.”

Jihoon didn’t answer, not knowing what to answer and too focused on not being sick again. After a few moments he brought up another wave of vomit, then another. It took a few minutes until he was able to stop again but Joshua’s presence did bring him some comfort. Jihoon had never been obsessed with birthdays but he could definitely do without vomiting either way. Finally he was able to slump back into Joshua’s lap, closing his eyes. 

His head was not relenting and it still felt like his heart was trying to beat out of his chest.

“I’m gonna text Cheollie, okay?”, Joshua asked softly after a moment of just letting Jihoon rest. 

The producer just nodded, barely moving his head. “I want water. And ice. My head is killing me.” he didn’t care how he sounded needy or whiny, he just wanted to stop feeling sick.

“Is this a migraine?”, Joshua asked, stopping from where he was typing on his phone screen. He mustered Jihoon with worry.

“I don’t think so?” It was more of a question than a statement. But Jihoon didn’t feel like thinking more about it. 

“Okay. Close your eyes. Let me know if you need to be sick again.”

💎

It had been nearly twenty minutes since Joshua and Jihoon had left and Seungcheol was growing worried. Something had been off with Jihoon and Seungcheol couldn’t quite put his finger on why he doubted it was just drunkenness like Joshua thought.

Around him the rest of the members were happy to chat in small groups, bursts of laughter erupting. While they all seemed to have fun, the leader saw the small glances to the door where Jihoon and Joshua had vanished through. They all missed the producer, after all it was his party. None of them liked the fact that they were celebrating without him. The whole idea behind the party was to get him out of the studio and to relax for once. Woozi had been so stressed with production lately, writer’s block his biggest enemy. 

Seungcheol looked down as his phone pinged and he swiped it open to find a slew of messages from Joshua, making his heart sink. 

Shua (00:47): I need xour help Shua (00:47): Wre in the bathroms at the enf of the hal Shua (00:48): Jihoonie is drnk  Shua (00:48): and puking Shua (00:48): he say he has a headache Shua (00:48): don think it’s a migriane

The leader wasn’t sure why there were so many spelling mistakes in the messages, he just hoped that it was stress and Joshua’s struggles with texting in Korean. Not that he was extremely drunk too. He had seemed fine earlier.

“What’s wrong?”, Jeonghan asked, raising an eyebrow. Seungcheol assumed he looked as worried as he was. 

“Shua texted. Jihoonie is drunk and throwing up”, Seungcheol informed him. Jeonghan’s lips turned down in a concerned frown. He clearly hadn’t expected that answer.

“He only had those two shots, right? He shouldn’t get drunk this easily”, Jeonghan mused, his eyes drifting over the other members who had not yet noticed the rising tension.

“Well, with his, uh, height and weight… maybe. Don’t tell him I said that”, Seungcheol said, rising from his chair. “I’ll go check on them.”

“Wait, I’m coming with.”

“No, stay. I doubt Jihoon wants any attention right now. If you come too we’ll have way too much attention on us.”

Reluctantly, Jeonghan nodded. “Take care of him.”

“Of course.”

The moment Seungcheol had closed the door behind himself, he rushed down the hall to the bathrooms where he hoped Joshua and Jihoon were. Indeed, once he reached the bathroom he could hear the sound of retching and a soft murmur, though not the exact words, even from the hallway.

He pushed the door open to find Joshua standing behind Jihoon, who was on his knees in the first stall, bent over the toilet. Joshua was holding his hair back, soothing him, as Jihoon continued to gag. Seungcheol winced at the sound and the following splash of liquid hitting liquid. Joshua, probably having heard the door open, turned around to Seungcheol, a look of relief on his face.

“Jihoonie, breathe. It’s okay. Cheollie is here.”

“Hyung.” Hearing the pitiful whimper from his most stubborn and reclusive member was awful. Jihoon reached up with a trembling hand to flush and tried to turn around in the tiny stall. Likely dizzy and disoriented, he lost his balance and slumped against the stall wall, resigned. Internally Seungcheol shuddered a bit at the disgustingness of it but he had a pukey, drunk dongsaeng to deal with.

As Jihoon looked up at him with streaming eyes, realization dawned on Seungcheol. Jihoon was not just a bit red but he was downright glowing from the red flush all over his face and neck. Combined with the awful nausea after just a bit of alcohol and the headache Joshua texted him about, it was obvious what was going on.

“Oh, Jihonie”, Seungcheol whispered, coming closer and kneeling down in front of Jihoon. “I think you are having a flush reaction.”

💎

Jihoon’s eyes widened in understanding and then he nodded, defeated. “It makes sense. Damn, I… I should have known. That explains why my parents never drank. This is awful.”

“I can imagine”, Seungcheol said, a tiny smile on his face. “At least we know you aren’t actually a lightweight.”

“Hold on”, Joshua, who had been silent until then, interrupted, “what on earth are you talking about? I mean, yeah, Jihoonie is basically Rudolph's nose all the way but what does that have to do with anything?”

“Hyung”, Jihoon squealed, indignant. “I really hate you right now.”

“What? It’s true!”, Joshua complained, “Besides, I call you Rudolph’s nose and get hate but Soonyoungie calls you a lobster and he just gets a shut up?”

Seungcheol laughed, the bickering definitely lightening the atmosphere. He winked at Joshua. “It’s Soonyoungie. He’s Jihoonie’s favorite, you know how it is.”

“I hate you all”, Jihoon complained, hiding his face in his hands, groaning. “I really don’t feel good.”

“I know, I’m sorry”, Seungcheol replied, instantly sobered up from the fun. He could tell that Jihoon was telling the truth and him admitting to not feeling well was always a cause for utmost concern. 

“I’m sorry too”, Joshua said, a hint of remorse in his voice. “We shouldn’t make fun. But, Cheol, what is going on with him?”

“We think he is having a flush reaction to alcohol. Basically it’s an intolerance to alcohol. Whoever has it gets really flushed, like Jihoonie, hence the name”, Seungcheol explained, “It’s often accompanied by nausea and vomiting, a headache, a rapid heartbeat, low blood pressure and diarrhea. Did you seriously never hear of it before? I thought it was common knowledge.”

“I never heard about it. Ever”, Joshua said, a frown on his face. “Should I have?”

“I mean, it’s even called Asian glow because statistically people from East Asia are mostly affected by it”, Seungcheol explained.

“Well, apparently growing up in LA it wasn’t that common?”, Joshua guessed, “maybe my parents didn’t have it either so why bother warn me, I guess?”

“Maybe”, Seungcheol agreed.

His attention was drawn back to Jihoon who shifted, adjusting himself against the wall, eyes closed. He seemed unsteady and really unwell. His pain and exhaustion were written all over his features.

Needing to know, Seungheol asked: “Are you having other symptoms aside from nausea, vomiting and the flush, Jihoonie?”

“My head hurts”, Jihoon said, “And my heart is beating really fast.”

Seungcheol nodded, remembering the headache he forgot to list, reaching out to feel Jihoon’s pulse. It was racing, heart beating much faster than it should in a resting position. Seungcheol counted nearly 30 beats in 15 seconds and multiplied by four that was too fast. Jihoon really needed to lie down and rest. Not much else could be done for him, sadly. He’d just have to endure but a public bathroom was not the place to be.

“We probably should get you back to the dorm.”

“I really want to sleep”, Jihoon admitted, leaning forward a bit. Seungcheol reached out and cupped his face in his hand, tucking a strand of hair back. “But … the party? I don’t want everybody to have to go home because of me.”

“I think everybody should go home no matter the state you are in. We do have schedules after all, though I think we may need to cancel yours”, Seungcheol replied. The fact that Jihoon didn’t immediately protest the suggestion, underlined how awful Jihoon was feeling. “Shua, could you go back and tell the members that they should wrap it up and send a manager to drive us? I’m gonna take Jihoonie down to the garage already so we don’t have to wait.”

“I could just text them and help you go get Jihoonie settled”, Joshua suggested, worried.

“I don’t know if that’s the greatest idea”, Seungcheol said, laughing a bit, “honestly, I was surprised I was even able to tell what you were trying to say. I was actually a bit worried you were drunk too. You texted like somebody who has no grasp on language at all.”

“You try texting with one hand in English while you are holding back a puking dongsaeng’s hair the next time”, Joshua muttered, a bit offended.

“As long it’s not me again that’s fine”, Jihoon interjected, a look of defeat on his face, “but honestly, can you discuss this some other time? I, uh, I think I’m gonna puke again.”

Without warning Jihoon turned around awkwardly, just barely getting his head back over the toilet before he gagged again, spit dangling from his lip as he threw up, again. In an instant Seungcheol scooted closer, rubbing his back and making sure he wasn’t in danger of tipping over in his woozy state. 

“Shua, go. I’ve got our Jihoonie.”

With a last glance back, Joshua left them alone. 

💎

Once Jihoon was done, he slumped back into Seungheol’s arms, totally spent.

“Hyung. Home”, he demanded, his voice a bit slurred. “I’m so tired. My head hurts. I wanna sleep.”

“Okay, come on. Can you stand?”

It turned out that Jihoon, in fact, could not stand. He was too dizzy and weak. Seungcheol suspected his blood pressure probably was a bit low too but he had no way to check. Instead of lingering in the situation, Seungcheol just scooped Jihoon into his arms, the younger wrapping his arm around Seungcheol’s neck. Jihoon’s head came to rest against Seungcheol’s shoulder.

“I’ve got you”, Seungcheol whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of Jihoon’s head and shouldering open the bathroom door with his other side. 

Within a few minutes they were down at the garage, arriving at the same time as a manager, who carefully helped Seungcheol set Jihoon down in the backseat of a car. Seungcheol slipped in beside him, letting Jihoon curl up against him.

At the dorm he gently set Jihoon down on his bed in the room they shared with Jeonghan and Mingyu. He helped Jihoon strip off his jeans and pullover, leaving him in boxers and a t-shirt, and tucked him in under the blankets. It was probably better for him to cool down a bit. Seungcheol mentally reminded himself to change Jihoon’s bed sheets in the morning, considering he had been kneeling on the floor of a public bathroom but for now rest was way more important. Jihoon was already half asleep.

Seungcheol dragged over a lined trash can, placing it on the floor beside Jihoon’s head just in case he felt sick again. He didn’t doubt he would be sick again during the night but maybe Jihoon could get some well-deserved rest beforehand. 

It was a bit of a hassle, whenever one of them was sick, considering that they had no choice but to still sleep in the shared rooms. Seungcheol or Joenghan always stayed up with the sick member but whoever shared a room with a sick member was, no matter what they tried, often woken by them in the middle of the night if not also infected. Maybe they could have Mingyu sleep in a different room in this case.

“Hyung?”, Jihoon mumbled. Seungcheol sat down beside him on the bed, running his hand through the younger one’s hair. 

“Hm?”

“I’m never drinking again.”

Seungcheol giggled.

“Sleep, uri Jihoonie. Happy Birthday.”

Notes: Happy Birthday, WOOZI!!! 🩷

I know his birthday date. I know it’s the end of November. I even wrote the date today multiple times. Did I still rush to finish it in time like two hours ago? …yes

I hope you enjoy this despite the rushed ending!

Masterlist links:  Fairy's Full Masterlist  Fairy's Masterlist - SEVENTEEN

[normaltothemax]

The way the man’s face closes off, his expression completely devoid of emotion, while he still faces the accusations Jason hurls at him head on…it’s so very Bruce in a way that makes Jason’s chest ache even worse. Because that’s not a look anyone but the real Bruce could master. Jason’s seen it on the man, knows exactly what he’s doing, and he kind of hates himself for being the cause of it.

He’s still angry—god, he’s still absolutely furious—but the fact of the matter is that he’s sure, now, that this really is Bruce. And that means…it means…

Bruce answered his call.

Bruce came for him.

Bruce patched him up.

Bruce took him home back to the manor.

Bruce stood vigil by his bedside for however long he was out for, waiting for him to wake.

And the real Bruce wouldn’t have bothered if he didn’t care. Even if he wanted to interrogate Jason, he’d have brought him down to the Cave instead, or stayed with him at Leslie’s clinic. He wouldn’t have brought Jason to his old room and made him comfortable. He wouldn’t be trying so hard to convince him that he does care. Because Bruce is a lot of things, but he isn’t cruel. He wouldn’t spend so much effort trying to get Jason to believe him and then kick him out on his ass once he did.

Jason doesn’t know what to do with that.

Panic floods him when Bruce says the Joker that’s in Arkham isn’t the one that killed him—he’s out, when did he get out? How did Jason not know about it? How long has he been out? How long before he makes his next move?—before he’s saying ‘your killer is dead’ like it’s that simple. Like someone could actually manage to put the cockroach down.

Like he’s sure.

The glow in his eyes slowly dies as he just sits there and stares, stunned. Everything he thought he knew is apparently wrong. All the plans he’d been making are out the window. Jason’s just…adrift in the sea, completely unmoored.

“You—” He means that. Bruce really means that, because the expressionless mask has come down and Jason can see exactly what he’s feeling written plainly across his face. It’s not enough. It’s too much. He feels so incredibly lost and he doesn’t know what to do now. Everything’s wrong, but it’s okay because his dad’s here, but Jason hates him, but he misses him more than anything, but he wants to ruin him and make him suffer, but he’s so tired and he hurts and he just wants his dad to make it better, but Bruce will hate him once he knows everything Jason’s done and was planning.

“I—” His breath is hitching, tears finally forcing their way out, trailing down his cheeks. He wants to curl in on himself, hide away from it all, but has to instead settle for staying leaned back against the headboard and covering his face with his hands as he tries to pull himself together but only comes more undone.

It’s completely mortifying. He’s not a child, and he’d be punished terribly for this back at the League. But it’s all too much, too much, too much and he can’t seem to be able to stop.

Six months.

Six months.

If there hadn't already been a wall between his thoughts and his emotions, Bruce would be reeling at this revelation.

A part of him is.

Six months. Jason somehow - who knows how - clawed his way back from the grave, literally, six months after his owwn funeral, and Bruce had had no idea. Hell, he'd visited the gravesite almost religiously for Jason's birthday, and the site had never shown even a hint of being disturbed. There had never been any kind of sign to hint that Jason was alive, was on the streets, was still in Gotham, but here he is, hurting and angry and railing against Bruce and insisting - insisting - that Bruce doesn't care.

And the worst part of it is that Jason's final accusation is one Bruce can't even argue. Not really. He has his reasons, yes, and he actually did come close to pulling that figurative trigger, but he'd been stopped, Clark stopped him and then later on Jim stopped him and now…well. thanks to Jim he's realizing the man currently in Arkham isn't actually Jason's murderer, but that's got no bearing on the fact that he couldn't - can't - kill that waste of oxygen.

Not even to avenge his own son.

And a part of him hates himself for that.

"…I told you I failed you," he says, his voice still quiet, expression lost in that kind of pain that can only be shown through lack of emotion; his eyes are all but dead, staring down at the sheets rather than meeting Jason's gaze, shoulders tense to keep himself from folding his arms and curling into himself, pulling away. He can't pull away from this, no matter how much he wants to hide.

He owes Jason that much at least.

"It doesn't change anything, but the man in Arkham…I have reason to believe he's not the man who killed you." Bruce has his own suspicions about the fate of the true Joker - or, more specifically, who is behind it - but he's in no particular hurry to prove them correct for several reasons. "As near as I've been able to learn, your killer is dead." So hopefully Jason can take some solace in that.

"As to the rest…I didn't know. I truly didn't know." Now he looks up, nothing but naked honesty and regret and guilt in his eyes. "There was never a report of the grave being disturbed, or any word about a John Doe matching your description. Jason, if I had known, there isn't a power on this planet that could have kept me from you." And why Talia didn't tell him…well, that's something he fully intends on asking her himself when next they meet.

[crunchchute]

my attempt at a bunch of my fav artists styles :] idea by sootnuki!!

i would love to do more but this was already a huge challenge

if any artist here dislikes this/is uncomfortable with it/any reason i can take it down or turn off reblogs etc. otherwise i hope its ok 🫡 im not gonna tag anyone just gonna let it do its thing in the wild lol

[puppyeared]

i feel like im not making any sense but does anyone else feel like there are stories that let u run with them and ones that spell everything out for you

[pondhue]

some (more) fear no mort thoughts 🧠💭

even though rick didn't go down with morty in the hole, he still stayed waiting for him. he didn't seem to panic or call anyone, because i think deep down rick accepted that morty is 10x braver than him and knew (or hoped) he'd come back, which morty did

rick wasn't there during morty's journey with closure, yes. but he was there at the end of it, waiting for morty. when it mattered.

the journey of true self reflection and changing oneself internally can be really fucking hard, this show has pushed that message many times. but it's harder trying to navigate life after starting/completing the process. it helps having someone, something, a support system to keep you grounded. getting outside reassurance/opinion helps. rick has to know that because he needs that too.

i like to think rick was lying when he said only one person can go into the fear hole. how would we know? he didn't know about it, the guy didn't mention it (as far as i can recall). he didn't go in because he was terrified and knew that because his fears are considerably more heavy and fucked up (compared to morty's) he would not have been able to handle it and he likely would've died. morty is way more resilient than rick and he knows that (at least now).

i wouldn't be surprised if a part of rick is jealous of that resilience and ability to bounce back while also still being forgiving, compassionate, and empathetic; all traits rick arguably doesn't have, or isn't good at expressing.

but he wants to be able to have those abilities and traits too. it's gonna be a slow process for rick but he already did the hardest part which is taking that first step towards changing. starting is always the hardest part (imo anyway)

[scoopstomyahoy]

thinking about a no upside down au steddie fic where steve and eddie run into each other years after moving away from hawkins, and eddie remembers steve and his fall from grace as king, and is kind of intrigued to see what kind of person he is now

and steve doesn’t remember him at all at first, because, look, eddie changed his hair again, and steve’s had a few head injuries (no upside down but i imagine he still went thru some shit with the party and with robin), and he didn’t really think about eddie in high school anyway, and he’s trying to forget about hawkins as much as possible (besides the kiddos, but they’re all moved out for college now, anyway) (obviously he lives with robin)

but steve is different now, happier, more open, flirts with guys, flirts with EDDIE, and eddie….. well, he wants to know more! and he tells steve he knows him from hawkins, and steve’s sunny little smile flickers a little, but he just apologizes for not remembering him and mentions he has some memory problems

and they get to know each other, and eventually as eddie tells him more (and maybe with the help of some yearbooks) steve remembers eddie. and. well. they like getting to know each other. and they like each other. and then they get together

eventually they’ve been together for a while, and eddie thinks he wants to maybe introduce steve to wayne, and he mentions he’s going to go back to hawkins for a long weekend (as he’s done a couple times) and this time he’d like steve to join him

and again steve’s sunny smile flickers a bit, but he says he’d love to meet eddie’s uncle, and… they go to hawkins. and it goes well— meeting wayne, at least, but steve seems a little on edge the whole time they’re there, tense when they drive in, fidgety when they go to the grocery store, et cetera. eddie thinks maybe steve is nervous about staying with the man who raised eddie, which is ridiculous, because wayne LOVES steve.

it’s not til they leave the town altogether that steve relaxes, and eddie realizes it wasn’t “meeting the parents” but rather going back to hawkins. and speaking of meeting the parents, steve didn’t ever bring his own up, even though eddie knew they still lived in hawkins. and the way steve glanced around whenever they went in public, like he was scared of getting recognized

and he asks about it, and steve doesn’t really want to talk about it, but he gives eddie snippets of it. people he wanted to leave behind in hawkins, memories that resurfaced, things he wants to forget

eddie goes back to see wayne sometimes, and the first time he doesn’t know whether to ask steve to come, so he just mentions he’s thinking about going to hawkins for some weekend and steve immediately starts making plans with him as if the invite is implicit. they go back to hawkins several more times, steve still tense and pent up the whole time they’re there

over time steve reveals more and more to eddie. everything that made hawkins hell for him, from the things he himself did in high school to the things people did to him. stuff tommy and carol and billy said to him. some of it is just typical high school bullshit (and oh, the nancy thing.) some of it is the tragedies steve went through, the horrors he had to protect his kids from. the injuries he sustained. more generally the homophobia that permeated the whole town, keeping steve from being himself. the lack of support in the indiana public school system for a high school senior who’s had two concussions and gone through incredible trauma.

his parents. the reason why steve’s mail is addressed to ‘steve buckley’ now, not ‘steve harrington’.

(that doesn’t come out until much, much later, and eddie is kicking himself for ever suggesting steve come back to hawkins.)

eddie, who hardly had an easy time of it in hawkins, is absolutely blown away by what steve had gone through in the same town, right under his nose. the entire persona that steve was trying to leave behind — the cool as a cucumber, unaffected, douchey mask he wore to hide all that he had endured. the head injuries. the emotional tragedies he had gone through. the way he had to be the rock for the kids even as he went through the same things as them.

he tries to tell steve they never have to go back to hawkins again, and steve is having none of it. he tells steve wayne can come visit them in their new city, and steve thinks that’s completely unfair to the man who had raised eddie, seriously, you’re going to make him come all the way up here?

and well i don’t know exactly what the ending is but steve is so stubborn about trying to love hawkins because it was eddie’s home and he wants to be able to go see wayne because wayne deserves to see his kid and eddie deserves to see his uncle and steve doesn’t want to be the problem :(