#i love how they just assume what you think and what you know

[heavenorhella2001]

This had never occurred to me way back when when I first watched playthroughs of the game/played it myself, but;

Seeing this post made me remember Max's nightmare, when she was trapped in her own mind/a broken version of reality.

And seeing this now?

Max definitely has PTSD.

Everyone always primarily discusses/ focuses on Chloe's trauma (which is understandable. I'll always be a Chloe defender and don't want to downplay her trauma by any means.)

But, unfortunately, Max's is overlooked.

Now, a lot of people might view this skeptically, question the idea of Max having PTSD. To many, it might seem like Max doesn't really have any lasting form of major trauma after the events of the game. Maybe she really was content and at peace and happy-go-lucky. (I've always scoffed at that scene at Chloe's funeral, when Max smiles at the butterfly.) And I'll admit, within the context of the story maybe we aren't supposed to think so. But if that's the case I just have to assume that's due to the developing team's lack of knowledge, experience with mental health and how it works, the impact things like this have on someone. Not that they are coming from a malicious place, of course. But very rarely does a person 'get it' unless they've been through it themselves. The average person simply won't understand.

But if you see everything I've described here as it's laid out, it makes total sense;

Let's talk about Jefferson. He is just one of many elements in the game contributing to Max's trauma. He was her teacher, someone she looked up to, respected, and was supposed to be able to trust. She truly felt safe around him. It's implied she had a crush on him. But her image of him completely shattered. After the truth about him was revealed, she was no longer able to trust her own judgement of people, her perception of reality.

He drugged her when she was vulnerable, and she was helpless to watch as he shot and killed the love of her life right in front of her. He kidnapped her, and she was thrown from the frying pan right into the fire. When she woke up she was tied up in a basement, helpless, and he had burned all her photos. Not only precious memories, but also one of her only means of going back and fixing things. He then took photos of her, over and over, this went on for who knows how long, while she was drugged, tied up and helpless, in order to satisfy his own perversions. Throughout, he mocked and tormented her.

Then, let's go into what happened with Chloe. Having to watch her best friend, the girl she loved, die over and over and over again. Max felt responsible for fixing it, preventing it, because she was the only one who possibly could. She would blame herself, think of it as a failure on her part each time Chloe died.

After watching her die in various ways, so many times, I'm sure Max questioned if she really even could save Chloe- or if Chloe was supposed to die from the start, and the universe was determined to restore the balance, no matter what Max did or how hard she tried.

And then there's Kate. This could go one of two ways depending on your choices, one of which is infinitely worse and more traumatizing, but either way it would definitely have haunted Max and left an impact on her.

Imagine how you would feel, knowing one of your closest friends was being bullied. Knowing they have been drunk/drugged and taken advantage of at a party. Yet instead of anyone coming forward, doing the right thing and helping Kate out of that situation, everyone at the party instead weaponized it, used it against her, slut-shamed her even though she wasn't in her right mind, was barely even conscious and was in no way able to consent to anything that was happening. Not that slut-shaming her would have in any way been okay or excusable even if Kate was acting of her own volition. Knowing that, even though you don't agree/don't identify with that, that your friend is deeply religious and clings to faith as a means of comfort. Knowing that she feels like a failure, that she feels like she's betrayed her faith, everything she stands for, and her family, even though she was in fact a victim in her situation. Being able to read letters, watching her family victim-blame her, hide behind their beliefs as a means to tear down someone they should feel obligated to protect, to support. Watching your friend be alienated by everyone around her, including her own family. Watching the school bullies write obscenities about your friend on the walls, and in the bathroom, make jabs at her and taunt her at every possible opportunity. Your friend's light has begun to dim, she starts pulling away from you, begins hiding away in her room more, which now feels like a dark, oppresive void. You know your friend is depressed, and you're trying to be supportive in any way you can, but there's a distance building between you you feel you can't bridge.

Then it happens. She kills herself/tries to kill herself. In front of you, and everyone who tormented her. Even then, the people who hurt her have no shame, laughing and recording her when she's in crisis. You begin to question and blame yourself, blaming youself for not noticing something was severely wrong earlier, not recognizing the impending signs for what they were. You want to help your friend, to save her, but your powers at failing you at the worst possible time. You only get one chance to do this, like everyone else, and you have to do it the right way.

If Max managed to talk Kate down, that's still an instense emotional weight, still a serious event to work through and process.

If Kate jumps…well…

Max feels like a failure. Like she contributed to Kate's death just as much as everyone else. Like she may as well have pushed Kate off that ledge herself. Not only watching your friend die in front of you, but knowing that it was self-inflicted in a moment of desperation, that they chose to do so and your words had no effect…

Now, the end of the game. Depending on what you choose, Max either has to to feel an immeasurable weight on her conscience, the responsibility for the destruction of the town where she was born. Where she grew up. Where she has countless memories, despite its' faults. The deaths of almost everyone there she's ever known.

Including (especially) Joyce.

The guilt of feeling like she took Chloe's mom away from her too, after Chloe had already lost her dad.

Oh. And that reminds me.

It was an incredible miracle, Max discovering her ability to go back through time via photos. Being able to go back 5 years, to when she and Chloe were only 13, before all the horror had happened, and save William. The sense of sheer relief, happiness and accomplishment she felt. She felt like a hero.

Only for it to all blow up in her face in the worst possible way.

Seeing Chloe, now a total shell of her former self. Completely disabled, and paralyzed. Helpless. Unable to live on her own. Seeing firsthand the emotional and financial stress William and Joyce are going through as a result of the accident. Chloe having so little quality of life that she pleads with Max to kill her, because she can't even do it herself.

(This is not my narrative or opinion on Chloe's situation, by the way. This is how it's portrayed. Quality of life, determining whether your life is worth living to due a life-changing accident or consequent disability is the choice of the invidual whom it effects. I'm not saying that anyone in Chloe's situation, who is paralyzed would inherently have no quality of life or no reason to live. That really depends on the invidiual, what that person needs in order to truly live and thrive, whether that person has family and friends and an emotional/practical support system in their life, etc. For Chloe, for me, and for many other people, though not all, living that kind of life would not be worth it.)

Max, depending on your choices, having to kill Chloe, to choose the merciful path, allow Chloe to exercise her autonomy in a world in which she can no longer do so and put her out of her misery. Knowing that she's doing for Chloe what she'd want someone to do for her if she were in that situation, yet still full of pain and regrets.

Max then having to go back and undo it all. Allow William to die again. Watch Chloe experience that horror and trauma again, knowing now she could've prevented it. But at what cost?

Lastly, if you chose to let Chloe go. To let her die.

That makes it immeasurably worse in my opinion.

The week she and Chloe spent together, reconnecting and rebulding their friendship, everything they went through together, would essentially never have happened.

Chloe, in this timeline, died alone in a bathroom. She never recieved any sort of closure, never got to know what happened to Rachel, questioning if Rachel perhaps just abandoned her, similarly to how Max did.

She never got to resolve things with Max, never heard from her again. She never got to know that Max still loved her, still cared about her and thought of her, but was too scared and guilty to reach out.

She never got to patch up things with her mom, or with David.

Everything Max went through. Everything she experienced.

To recap:

Having to watch her best friend, the woman she loves, die over and over again, feeling helpless, trapped in this endless, hellish cycle of death.

Being lulled into a false sense of security, betrayed and abducted by someone she thought she could trust, someone she looked up to.

Witnessing firsthand Kate's suicide/attempt, feeling like she failed her.

Being forced to let William die again, and force Joyce and Chloe to suffer that loss again.

Having to watch Joyce mourn her only daughter, after already losing her husband. Knowing she could've prevented it.

Everything that happened would still exist, but only in Max's mind.

She has no one she could ever confide in, talk to, or open up about it.

Chloe, for her, was that person.

No one would believe her, albeit understandably.

It's implied her powers vanish after she goes back that final time to let Chloe die.

She'd have no way to prove her story was true.

Carrying the weight of that burden, that knowledge and trauma, alone, would drive anyone insane.

Feeling like everything she went through, all the efforts she made to keep Chloe alive, were pointless.

I don't believe there is any way Max could be okay after that.

She'd be a hollow shell, just going through the motions. Totally disconnected from the world and the people around her. (Understandably. Who the hell could she connect to? Who would understand her?) Everyone at Blackwell, and their student lives and petty drama would feel so insignificant. So incredibly stupid and shallow to Max after what she's been through.

In fact, I've always felt - years after the events of the game, were you to choose to let Chloe die - that Max likely killed herself.

Over time, she probably began to question herself, to feel crazy, and begin wondering whether any of what happened, actually did, or if it was just something her mind created.

Max's trauma, her thoughts and emotions in regards to all of this are reflected in this part of the game, her mental breakdown. You can see her self-loathing, the way she blames and criticizes herself, in her interactions with herself and in her distorted journal entries.

Anyway. I never really liked Max all that much as a protagonist.

I thought she was a pushover, a little shallow, cared too much about what people like Victoria thought of her. I thought it was pretty unforgivable the way she ghosted Chloe, at the most traumatic, formative time of Chloe's life, when she had just lost the most important person in her life, besides Max. I understand anxiety, feeling awkward, helpless and flailing in that situation and not knowing what to say or do to make it better, but it just doesn't matter to me. Nothing excuses that.

However…

Max, did ultimately (well, depending on your choice at the ending,) make it right.

This has given me some perspective, and I have a lot more empathy for her now.

     you thought you could control everybody and everything, huh?      —   twist time around your fingers?

[matheoxs]

[THIS IS GONNA BE HARSH

No way you're not assuming things in your favor and expecting your desires please, make it make sense.

I'm going to speak for all bloggers because I know some of them are tired and scared to say it. But don't come to me asking how to manifest, for the love of fucking God, READ READ FUCKING READ.

No way we are going to 2025 and your ass still asking how to manifest this and that.

Assume and let it BE, that's it. What do you want me to tell you? Jump five times and roll or something? There's literally nothing else to do.

Not only that, but those anonymous asking if the Law of assumption is real? Like, until this day, bro, get a fucking grip. Jesus Christ.

You're going post by post trying to find something that will click for you and not even applying it. You're wasting your time. I'm not saying you can't read posts or whatever, but if you're not applying it, then you're wasting your time.

It's annoying, yes it is. When are you going to decide enough is enough? Because me and other bloggers can make posts every single day, but at the end of the day, it's you. It's literally you. It's your choice.

Enough is enough.

we are literally going to 2025, enough is enough. Stop with the bullshit. You know why you don't have your desires right now, you know it, and I don't have to tell you.

Someone can spread a rumor about somebody without proof, and you will believe it.

There have been many times in your life where you assume things without proof. Yes, there have, and you probably don't even remember, and it manifested itself in the 3D.

Why are you waiting for the blogger to come back? Are they your God? Stop the glaze, please. It's getting too far to the point where you see those bloggers bigger than you.

They manifested a big house, so can you?? They're not special, I promise you.

They manifested appearance change, so can you. They manifested being able to shift every time they want, so can you.

You can talk to those bloggers in real life, and you will realize they're just regular people. They're not that special, I'm not that special.

It's really not that serious.

Because of the likes they get on their posts, it makes you think that they're bigger. They're just numbers. Knock it out.

Now, let me get real with y'all. There's no such thing as unrealistic or big desires. You're the one labeling it as unrealistic or big desires.

Do you really think that the 3D says something like, "oh no, I can't reflect that, it's too unrealistic and big"?

Do you really think that the 3D looks at your desires and says that? Think about it for a sec. Now, YOU tell me, do you really think that the 3D thinks that?

Or is it just you labeling them as big and unrealistic? You see how you're always the one who assumes things???

I KNOW, SURPRISINGLY RIGHT? Well, it shouldn't be a surprise to you. You should already know that.

I don’t want ANY ANON coming in my asks asking me dumb ass fucking questions when you can just get your ass to read and try to actually understand

It’s actually really easy to understand if I’m being fr

There’s many bloggers who literally breaks it down in the most EASIEST WAY to understand

So stop with the excuses.

Stop trying to look for motivation especially shifters Omds

Im gonna write another post on this im not done yet call me mean wtv idc it had to be said loa bloggers ARE TIREDD

And I also think that’s why the loa community is kinda dying.

[cthulhus-curse]

Extra Credit

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 6,020

Warnings: Age Difference, Alluded CSA, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Smut, Teacher-Student Relationship | 18+ Minors DNI

A/N: Hopefully I scheduled this & the other fics correctly and not for the following year because I may no longer be around to fix it.

Summary: A series of snapshots of loving months alongside your professor which lead up to one of the most difficult decisions you’ve made in your life.

“Good morning, sunshine. Ready for another day of work?”

Although exhaustion ripped through your body, the sound of the woman’s voice made you smile. You learned to enjoy it through the past few weeks. Each day you woke up at what felt like the crack of dawn and went straight to work. Although it was right on campus, an office not too far from your dormitory, you weren’t used to being awake at such early hours. At least the pay was good and your boss was even better, you mused. 

“I can’t wait,” you replied flatly. Your boss, Professor Romanoff, came up to the desk you called a home ever since being hired. She held up two cups – one was her usual morning coffee and the other scalding hot chocolate topped off by a mountain of whipped cream. As always, she called you a child for picking that over anything caffeine-heavy. “Thanks for this.”

“No problem, sweetheart. Gotta keep my little assistant awake enough to get through the day,” Natasha chuckled. “Don’t worry, it won’t be heavy for you. We just have to get through grading some papers and then the rest of the shift is yours.”

The smirk remained plastered over your features as she handed you the hot chocolate before moving further in her office. Being the head of the English department at your university, Natasha got her privacy intact. It’s not like she was thrilled to work with her fellow professors anyway. 

“I heard there was a big party being hosted by your friends in the girl’s soccer team. I assume you’re planning on going?” Natasha’s tone was filled with curiosity, but never anger when she so much as alluded to your private life, specifically that having to do with one Wanda Maximoff. “I can let you go a few hours early if you need to get ready. Classes are done for the semester and you need to enjoy your college years. I’m sure Miss Maximoff would be happy to see you again. I know she means a lot to you.”

Ever since you had accepted the job as Natasha’s assistant, Wanda had given you the cold shoulder. You had spoken to her from time to time, but only when she came back to the dorm after days of being away, only to leave once again. At first you blame yourself for causing a rift in your relationship, if one could even call it that, but eventually you came to realize just how immature she was – taking a simple job offer did not mean your feelings for her changed in any way. 

“I actually haven’t seen her in awhile. She’s staying at Carol and Val’s place I think,” you shrugged while taking a sip of your drink. The way it burned its way onto your tongue and down your throat caused you to hum happily. 

“Oh? And how are you feeling about that?”

“I’m taking it pretty well. You know she’s not very fond of you and I think I pissed her off by agreeing to work for who she deems as ‘a fucking witch bitch’. It’s just childish and stupid,” you rolled your eyes at the mere idea of it. “I hate being someone’s second choice like that. She doesn’t even see how much I love her.”

Just like Wanda didn’t see you, you didn’t see Natasha. Your professor was crestfallen at the voices you threw at her. She hated seeing you in such pain, not being able to do anything about the mistreatment you received from your casual fling. The older woman cared for you, perhaps more than she led on – the mere image of seeing you in pain made bile rise up your throat before it was maintained in place. 

“Then it’s her loss. You deserve better than that, honey. You’re an amazing, beautiful, and smart woman. You don’t need to be sitting around waiting for someone to notice you. If she doesn’t like you the same way you like her, then it’s time to move on,” Natasha explained as she attempted to keep her own emotions at bay. She threw a sympathetic look your way even if you didn’t notice it. “Listen Y/N, I know we aren’t as close as you are with Miss Maximoff, but I care about you. You are by far my brightest student yet and I see so much potential in you. You don’t deserve to be thrown around like trash, only used when she gets bored with someone else. You deserve the world.”

“Yeah? And who’s gonna give me that?”

The ‘me’ went unspoken from Natasha. She simply sagged her head and stared down at the mountain of paperwork laying in her desk. It would be to no avail if she decided to work – with a brain oozing with thoughts of you, her focus disrupted. 

“How about we try something different today? We can work for a bit and then I can take you out for lunch. My treat,” Natasha said. “How does that sound? I just hate seeing you like this, sweetie.”

You thought about it for a second. There was something awfully safe about Natasha. As much as you wished to spend countless hours obsessing over Wanda, sometimes you found yourself humoring the idea of your professor. She was sweet, always protective as she huffed at the idea of you being hurt. At first you assumed it was some sort of motherly instinct, but after having caught yourself staring down her cleavage from time to time, the top buttons of her blouse always open, and she stared back with a smile, you knew something much more intimate lay beneath. 

“I’d like that,” you replied, suddenly drunk on Natasha’s presence as Wanda was left behind. 

“Good! Now time to work, hon. You don’t get paid to sit all day and look pretty,” the redhead chuckled at her own joke, suddenly feeling much more rejuvenated. “If you finish quickly, maybe we can grab some dessert as well.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

A shudder ran down your body as hands traveled across your back. Fingernails left heavy trails in their wake, surely to be worn with the utmost pride. You hummed, eyes closed while holding still, standing there naked as the day you were born. In the dusk of the room, you let yourself be the center of attention; the center of her attention. 

“What did she do this time?” Natasha asked from behind. Her mouth was quickly upon your upper back, kissing its way along your shoulder blades. Never did she lose her tenderness when touching you. “Tell me, darling girl. Use your words.”

You didn’t know when it had begun. One day you were at work standing in front of your boss’s desk before you became trapped against it. The first time Natasha kissed you was then and there. Neither could hold back the attraction you shared for one another. No longer did you prioritize Wanda as you allowed your professor to take you. 

“I found her sleeping with Kate. She was…she was laying in my bed, Nat. I saw them and just ran away. She fucked her in my bed!” You sobbed, but didn’t allow yourself to shed tears. Not long before you had promised yourself never to cry over Wanda again. “I didn’t know who else to go to. I just thought of you and ran.”

“Oh baby, I’m so sorry. I hate that she keeps hurting you,” Natasha mumbled back as she hugged you from behind. “Don’t you dare run away this late at night again. You know how much I worry about you. I’m just a phone call away, malyshka. Always.” 

“I’m sorry,” you responded before biting down on your lip. “I promise I’ll be good from now on. Your good girl, right?”

“Darling, you are always my good girl.”

Natasha motioned you to get on the bed, your head against a pillow as your ass remained up in the air. She allowed her hands to roam over your backside, smirking as a hand went down against a cheek. It was only a soft hit. Never did Natasha wish to inflict any horrid pain over you. As her eyes noticed the faint bruises Wanda left along your skin, she huffed. 

The redhead stood over you. She carried a dildo between her legs that was attached to a harness. Similar to you, she was fully nude minus for the red briefs she wore. Strong arms reeking with muscles held you close. As she inched the toy between your legs, you let out a loud moan. 

“I don’t like how she hurts you. I know you like it, Y/N, but she leaves you looking like a piece of meat. Does she even take care of your wounds, baby? Or does she leave you like that after hitting you until you’re crying out for her to stop?” Natasha questioned, already knowing what the answer was. Ever since first seeing your body, she was the one who took care of you as a surrogate for Wanda. “I know I can’t control what you do, but honey, this isn’t right. I can’t stand seeing you like this.”

Rather than vocalize your response, you hid your face against the pillow. Natasha slid inside you softly, allowing the dildo to fill you with ease. There was a grunt that you basked upon – it was low and throaty filled with your professor’s longing desire. She used all her force to drag you into a makeshift sitting position. From then on, Natasha allowed herself to, only gently, give you the pleasure Wanda failed to gift you with. 

“I want more,” you begged, eyes rolled to the back of your head the further Nat moved inside of you. Movements were languid and sloppy. All the older woman focused on was your own pleasure, not speed or roughness. Unlike Wanda, she took her time getting to know exactly what to do and how to touch you. “Please, mommy, I need more!”

“Whatever you want, my little angel.”

Natasha did not spend time rummaging through the newfound honorific. She beamed at it, but didn’t comment on anything. Instead, she thrust her hips forth fucking you with love that Wanda never gave you. Kisses were spread all across your back. Each grunt, each little noise she made mixed with your own, made you feel in heaven. 

Hands gripped your breasts from behind. They squeezed the mounds tightly, rolling erect nipples through the fingers. As Natasha pumped the strap-on in you, your cunt dripping with juices while velvety walls hugged her tight, she brought a hand down your body. Fingertips pressed against your clit and began teasing it, flicking the bud as you screamed loudly – surely her neighbors would hear. 

“You’re doing so well for me, Y/N. Just look at how you’re taking my cock. My pretty, little girl,” Natasha moaned when hugging you tight. She nuzzled her face against your shoulder before nipping your skin. There were various hickeys left upon you, signs for Wanda to see if you ever dared return to her. Natasha knew you weren’t hers, but each second she spent with you made her crave you even more. “I bet she can’t fuck you like this, can she? That little…she can’t make you feel this good. Only I can make it better. I’m the only one that will ever keep you safe and you know this.”

When you finally came, Natasha was there to keep you close. She remained frozen in place as your orgasm shot through your body. Not even a second passed before she inched you on the bed, allowing you to rest upon the soft mattress with the dildo still inside you. 

“I never want to see you hurt again. If she ever does this to you, if you end up going back, I want you to call me when you need me. I never break a promise,” Natahsa muttered as she placed a kiss over the back of your head. “I’ll always keep you safe.”

From then on, you found yourself hesitating each time you merely humored the idea of going back to Wanda. Even if you told yourself that the relationship with Natasha was nothing more than platonic, you questioned the validity of such a statement. Every second you spend with her, you fall further for your professor. 

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

“Tell me about your family.”

The two of you had escaped the cruel Bostonian summer filled with never-ending traffic and burning skyscrapers. It was the dead-center of the season and the entire city was plagued by a mix of potential commuters for the various academic institutions or those who, for some reason, decided for it to be her vacation destination.

Natasha had taken you away to a small town across the state. It was remote, small enough so that the two of you could enjoy your life in public without the student body of the university to find you. All you had done was pack all the bags you could muster for the weekend getaway. It was peace which became well-deserved. 

You weren’t much of a fan of them, but Nat had always spoken highly of the times she took her sister to pick out peaches ever since she first learned how to drive. The two of them would escape into an orchard in the depths of Ohio and come out with their hands full with fruits. The mere memory she shared with you was enough to get you to agree to her plans. 

“Well, there’s really not much to talk about. I was adopted by Melina and Alexei,” Natasha began as though it was the most casual thing in the world to refer to her parents by their given names. “I have a sister, also adopted, named Yelena. She’s the light of my life. A bit of an asshole I must say, but she’s the one I care about most.”

“Yelena Belova? That’s your sister?” You asked with furrowed eyebrows; it was a name similar to that of a member of Wanda’s team. 

“Yes. I realize she’s friends with Miss Maximoff,” Natasha replied with apparent dismay. “As hard as I’ve tried to keep her away from that girl, the two are almost inseparable. I trust her enough to not do anything overly stupid though. Lena has always been a bit of a firecracker.”

The two of you walked hand in hand along the orchard. There was not a label to whatever you had yet, but it didn’t care. Natasha was clear when she said she would never pressure you into it. Instead, you allowed yourself to be a free agent who, at times, found yourself wishing to have something more with your professor. 

Eyes roamed over the woman’s body. Usually you saw her in professional clothes or the occasional nightgown when you stayed over at her place, but never with a pair of shorts and a loose camisole. There were sunglasses shielding Natasha’s viridescent eyes from the sun, but you had looked into them for long enough to memorize their beauty. 

You noticed how she covered her body from time to time, hands over her thighs, cowering away from the nonexistent public that dared gawk in her general direction. It hurt to see. She was the perfect image of beauty to you, but a disgusting void to herself. 

There were rare moments in which Natasha allowed you to touch her. She was a fan of studying each and every one of your favorite sweet spots, running hands across your skin before making you giggle under the drunkenness of arousal. The few times you had placed your palms upon her frame you did so in a tender manner – Nat was a porcelain doll under your touch who could break at any seconds. It merely lasted a few seconds before she pushed you off and rushed to apologize for acting out, only for you to shoot her a warm smirk and tell her there was nothing wrong with that. 

Shaking your head, you brought yourself back to the present and carried on. 

“Yeah, your sister’s always been nice to me though. She’s not as close with Wanda if that makes you feel better. I’ve mostly seen her chasing around that Kate girl. Maybe it’s an underclassmen thing,” you shrugged. “What about your parents?”

There was a pregnant pause, clear hesitation, before Natasha continued.

“Well, I never met my biological family nor did I care about seeking them out. My mom has always been amazing,” Natasha stopped for a second, her hands gliding across the peaches that she carefully eyed. “My father…not so much.”

“Why do you refer to her as mom and him as father?” came your question before you could help yourself.

It was clear her demeanor had changed. Natasha stood with her back straight, hands clasped in front of her as a means to shield herself. She only stared forth into nothingness. Her body was with you in the orchard while her mind went back to when she was a child – to when she was alone with him. 

“It makes it less personal,” she finally answered. “It’s also easier than calling him ‘the man whose wife wanted to adopt two kids he never wanted’ and then turned my childhood to shit. I grew up way too fast because of that…that durak!”

The yelp she let out was fueled with emotions you had yet to see. Natasha was rarely angry, let alone emotionally vulnerable to let you peek through her walls. Her body sagged after fighting so long being tense. You could see tears rushing down her face even with sunglasses that covered them, but knew not to make a comment.

“Nat, has he ever…?”

You didn’t want to humor such a thing. Even then, you already knew the answer given her body language and unspoken words. While you fought with the idea of potentially driving to her father’s house and beating him to a pulp, Natasha found herself glad it had been her over Yelena. If something were to happen to her sister, she would never forgive herself. Each time he came at night, the woman sacrificed herself. It was a small price to pay for her beloved sibling’s safety. 

“I don’t want to talk about it, baby,” Natasha said with a cracked voice, turning the other way to move further into the orchard. You gave her space knowing that whenever she felt comfortable enough to talk, she would. All you could do was follow along as the professor whispered again. “I’m sorry.”

But behind her broken tone, deep down, you could hear a younger Nat’s faint cry of ‘yes’. 

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

There were moments in which exhaustion overtook you during long tedious days. You could barely move a muscle and still feel as though life had been sucked out of you. Most of your summer was spent chasing around Natasha, who you remained working for throughout the following months with little to no workload. Being around the woman, doing mere iced coffee runs and chatting without a care in the world while in the office made you feel free for once in a lifetime – for the first time since you met Wanda, she was an afterthought. 

Natasha was quick to jump in and take care of you through those moments. She always acted out in small, loving ways when paying for your food, giving you rides, or merely holding your hand as the two of you walked into your next adventure. Her desperation to hold you in her arms and promise you all would be well was intense. There was love radiating from her a mile away which you were far too shortsighted to see. 

“Tell me what you need, malyshka. Come on, little darling, use your words.”

After a particularly difficult day, you found yourself safe in Natasha’s lap. There had been no overexertion of your being during that day. It had mostly been relaxing as you worked alongside your professor on a Friday, but when you received a call from Wanda midday, the woman asking you to meet up, you merely froze and broke down in the office – your ‘friend’ only reached out when she needed something from you and it had been nearly a month since you last spoke amicably. After you only hummed as a reply and ended the call, Natasha was there to break your fall. 

“Mommy’s here for you. I know today has been a really difficult day and that you’ve felt really stressed, but I don’t want you focusing on those icky thoughts. I just wish she didn’t hurt you like this,” came the older woman’s whisper as she pulled you close. The two of you had rushed out of the office even hours before Natasha liked calling it quits. Even as behind as she was with her future lesson planning, she still prioritized you before anything else. “Use your words, detka. Tell mommy how she can help.”

“I don’t even want to think,” you flatly mumbled with tears threatening to fall down your eyes. Hands gripped the professor’s clothes while your forehead lay frozen in her shoulder. With arms wrapped around your body you finally felt safe. “Please help me forget, Nat. I never want to think about her again. I just-” your words were cut short by a short while your voice was left cracked. 

“Shh it’s alright, my darling girl. Mommy’s here to make it all better.”

While holding you tight, Natasha allowed a hand to slip down your body. It snuck to your lap then between your legs. No teasing was found – she knew you how overwhelmed you were and was ready to give you whatever you wished for without question. When naked fingers went past the waistline of your sweats and underwear, landing upon your already throbbing sex, you couldn’t hold back a throaty moan. 

You quickly realized Natasha wanted to separate herself from the man who agreed to adopt her. He was rough, violent, and torturous much like how she saw Wanda, whereas your professor never failed to bring a smile to your face even as she smacked your backside harshly — she always soothed the skin with the palm of her hand before carrying on. She wanted, no, needed to break away from his grasp over her mind. Otherwise she’d end up as a battered slave of his once again. 

Fingertips brushed against your clit then studied the entirety of your slit while coating themselves in your everlasting slick. Natasha peppered your wet cheeks, filled with desolate tears, with kisses. She mumbled only the sweetest words while easing herself in you. You cried out about your sorrows, about Wanda’s mistreatment over you, while the older woman simply sat there and held you through it. 

“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. Anyone who dares make you feel this bad is an idiot. Y/N, my love, you deserve the world,” Natasha said lovingly. She nuzzled her face against your own, foreheads pressed together with fingers knuckle-deep inside your cunt. You couldn’t even muster the enthusiasm to grind on them. Instead, you remained shaking as Natasha made it all better. “You never let yourself be treated like that by anyone, alright? Whether it’s Miss Maximoff or me, or anyone else. My darling angel should be treated as the princess she is. You’re one of a kind, honey, a perfect little bear. I never want you to forget just how valuable your existence is.”

Tears of joy were mixed with your gloomy ones. There were cries of pleasure and internal pain that Natasha never stopped supporting you through. She allowed her lips to touch down upon your own. With your orgasm approaching soon and her tender care, you were elated. 

“My sweet baby,” came Natasha’s hushed whisper. She made you come, your back arching while fingernails dug deep into the redhead’s outfit. There was a loud moan, though distant, that boomed across the room. Even as you fell apart, strong arms held you in place. Such a wondrous creature such as yourself, according to your boss, deserved to see the stars. “You did such a good job for mommy. Always my perfect girl,” she breathed out with fingers still deep inside you. “All mine.”

You swore there was a muttered ‘I love you’ thrown somewhere, but with the mix of mental and physical exhaustion raining down upon your body, you merely shrugged your shoulders and fell limp against Natasha. Although you wouldn’t admit it, your heart longed to say the words back – out of everyone in your life, you never expected to fall into the depths of love with your professor. 

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

“I don’t know why you like this show so much. It’s just senseless killing and at the end they solve everything and go home.”

Although it was supposed to be a relaxing weekend towards the start of the Fall semester, you found the mind boggling statement to fill you with feigned rage. Even as classes began, the arrangement between you and the professor carried on. You still worked for her even if there were no classes in said semester you took with you. As disappointing as that was, you began seeing more of Natasha regardless in more ways than one. 

The two of you were sitting on the couch late one Friday night. You were exhausted with your course load and Natasha cursed off the new freshmen she had to teach; they always pretended to still be in high school. A bowl of popcorn was nestled between your legs. While you watched Criminal Minds, Natasha settled for insulting it. 

“It’s fun, Romanoff. Entertaining at the very least.” you shot back with a knowing smirk. You had been the one to introduce her to various shows. Who would’ve thought that the great Professor Romanoff was living underneath a rock her whole life? 

“Wow I’ve been demoted from mommy to Romanoff. That’s sad,” Natasha laughed before grabbing a handful of popcorn. “Who’s your favorite character?”

“Probably Rossi,” came your shrug. “He’s the guy with the beard.”

“Really?” At the surprised tone your lover let out, you feigned offense. “I thought you’d like one of the girls. What about that brunette with the bangs?”

“Oh, Emily left for the Interpol. I would like JJ, but I don’t know. There’s just something cool about Rossi in this season.”

The two of you remained silent for a few seconds. It wasn't awkward, but then again, nothing was with Natasha by your side. Even if you slipped and fell in front of her, you wouldn’t feel embarrassed. The woman never judged you, instead supporting your every decision while also guiding you through life. You felt comfortable enough with her to be yourself. At times it felt as though it was you and Nat against the world. 

“Maybe you just have daddy issues,” Natasha casually offered. Moment passed before the two of you burst out laughing. Tears sprinkled in your eyes while your breath left your body. With the amusement that basked in the room, you both were giggling messes. 

“Hey!” you huffed when gaining some of your composure back and lightly slapping Natasha’s shoulder. “We both have daddy issues.”

“Fine, but I have more than you. Mostly because I’ve never actually met my real dad. Maybe he’s an asshole like Alexei,” Natasha giggled. She never failed to look radiant as ever, especially when laughing and seemingly worry-free. You had to do several double takes because the beauty that exuded from your professor was far too enthralling to break away from. As the laughter died down and you were left holding one another, her head on your shoulder while you leaned back against the couch, she spoke. “I want you to be my girlfriend, Y/N.” 

You had both agreed to keep things unofficial and yet there was that unmistakable skip of a beat your heart underwent when Natasha spoke her words. Teeth gnawed at your bottom lip nervously. There were striking green eyes which made it difficult for you to ignore the pegged comment. While your heart longed you to reply with a ‘yes’, to finally be Natasha’s forever, your mouth reacted differently. 

For the rest of the evening the two of you sat by and finished watching the show. Natasha was silent as she ghosted over her house, leaving you alone in the living room before hiding out in her bedroom. It was the first night in months that you slept in the guest room by yourself. And to your dismay, you went to sleep listening to Natasha’s quiet sobs that escaped the privacy of her bedroom. You had felt bad for Wanda when she got sad about you seeing your professor casually, but listening to the redhead’s woes was synonymous with your heart being squeezed to death. 

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

It was October when you fell in love. 

You returned to your dorm room days later behind the guise of assuming Natasha wished for you to be far away. She had barely spoken a word to you at work. Most of the time she sat by her desk with sagged shoulders, glasses perched at the edge of her nose, and glossy eyes hiding behind the frames. You desperately wished to say something, but when Wanda sweeped back into your life, the guilt ate at you until nothing was left behind. 

The Fall semester quickly rolled by. You were at the end of the month and still couldn’t sleep without seeing Natasha’s face tainted in your mind. At times when Wanda lay above you, hips thrusting with straps wrapped around them and letting out low grunts, you closed your eyes and imagined it was the older woman. The memories of her doing the same were soaked with humiliation. You had broken her heart, you knew. Never would you dare forgive yourself for having caused so much pain upon the frail, angelic woman. 

“I hate her so much,” Wanda had grumbled when you walked through campus hand-in-hand passing by a certain professor whose sight was solemnly trained on the floor. Your hand was squeezed as your eyes drifted to Natasha. As much as she seemingly hated you, all you wanted to do was run up to her, wrap her in your arms, and bed for forgiveness. Even if it would take ages, she was worth it. “Fucking bitch.”

Perhaps it was Wanda’s comment or the fact that you finally gained enough confidence through your depressive episode to take action, but that night you found yourself standing in front of Natasha’s house. Your roommate was long forgotten and for the first time in your life, you couldn’t care less about who she was fucking. All that mattered was the woman you, without admitting it, had fallen for. 

There was a desperate knock upon the hardwood door. There was furious rain which fell down upon your body. That along with the cool breeze of the night made you freeze in place. Still, you felt as though you deserved it. Even then, you’d do whatever it took for Natasha. 

“It’s 10pm on a Wednesday, Y/N. Someone better be dying,” were the first words Natasha spoke to you once the door swung open in a low grumbled voice you knew to be from when she awoke. “To what do I owe the displeasure? Did you come here to tell me how great Miss Maximoff is compared to-”

You cut her off by practically tackling Natasha into the house. Even if your body was dripping with the tears of the sky, you clung to the woman as though your life depended on it. She was clearly taken aback and yet never moved away. Instead her arms were left unmoving as you embraced her. That was good enough for you, you assumed. 

Putting your heart on the line has never been easy. You were the person who shoved her emotions so deep down that you somehow told yourself Wanda was the one for you. Although she hurt you so much, you still remained by her side. It wasn’t difficult to assume Natasha had felt something similar when you rejected her. She had spent countless months giving you the utmost love and never daring to ask for anything in return. You were always protected by her mere presence until one day you decided to throw it all away. Going to her house, you were without hope of being taken back. There was slight hesitation reeking in your chest, but as soon as you saw your former lover, you swore you fell for her once again – she would forever be worth it. 

“I’m the world’s biggest fucking idiot and I admit it. I should’ve said yes to you,” you began. Life had been tedious without Natasha even if only for a few weeks. You hated how only a cold slap in the face in the shape of one Wanda Maximoff could awaken you from such a dismal nightmare. “I hurt you so badly and I never, ever expect for you to take me back. I was an asshole. A svo-lach' if you will,” you could practically feel Natasha’s slight smirk at the mention of a Russian word she had taught you. “I miss you and I don’t think I can do this without you. It’s probably stupid since we weren’t with each other for ages. It wasn’t official and yet I can’t stop thinking about you. I want you to be my girlfriend. It’s always been you, Nat and it always will be.”

No words were spoken as the door was locked and you were dragged to the bedroom. Even if dripping with water, Natasha helped undress you. She threw you against the bed, viridescent eyes twinkling under the dead of the night before taking her rightful position over your body. There was not an area of your freezing body that she didn’t kiss her way through as sudden warmth radiated from her skin and onto yours. 

When you first kissed her after weeks of being away, you swore there were fireworks going off. Never had kissing Wanda felt even remotely good or similar. You were enthralled by the way Natasha was seemingly everywhere. Her hands drifted up your body before taking your breasts into her palms and squeezing them, nipples rolling through her fingers before being pinched – she did always have an adorable fixation on your chest. There was a sense of longing within her. The two of you hadn’t been together for far too long. During the rest of the night, you explored what was missed, holding one another as cries of pleasure were let out. 

Positions were switched from time to time. Natasha would be on top before you pushed her against the mattress and had your head disappear between her legs. There was nothing to be said. You two communicated through sweet and rough touches, connecting as one without the need for words. There was a moment when you made her squirt, legs shaking as your fingers were dug deep inside her cunt. Natasha was left wide-eyed and suddenly droopy while you lapped at the mess – even when a spent mess, she was the most beautiful woman in the universe. 

When neither of you could keep going it was already the early hours of the morning. Your bodies were sore and marked with the reddened tracks of fingernails. It was the first time in ages that you finally felt as though you belonged. Natasha was your person, she was safe, and she was home. It was then that you, while fingers trailed across the back of the woman’s hand, decided never to dare leave her again. 

“I love you,” she muttered once you were breathing raggedly, laying back on the bed with bodies intertwined and hearts aligned. You felt yourself crawl out of your skin, frowning as the words were spoken. Without even daring to turn around, you went to grab Natasha’s hand. When squeezing it, you gave her your response. 

You couldn’t say it out loud, but she knew then you loved her too.

[uncannydevotion]

“ we haven't found one lipstick that's kiss proof! ”

a/n: based on tht one art meme going around iykyk anyways happy holidays, and merry christmas if u celebrate! nd happy day to everyone else! enjoy this lil gift <3 i wanted to get it out today so it might b a little rushed, and definitely shorter than i would like but i still like it so. i'm posting it.

includes: homicidal liu, eyeless jack, jason the toymaker, nina the killer, and jeff the killer.

warnings: gn!reader but it's assumed u wear lipstick, italics my beloved, so much fluff it'll make u sick, lots of kissing. is kiss even a word anymore. it's short, with varying different lengths, and it's sweet this time for real i promise.

HOMICIDAL LIU

Perhaps a bit confused when you ask him to help find some kiss proof lipsticks, but nonetheless willing to help. He just assumes you wanted to go out to a cosmetic store or something to find some.

He's very confused when you drag him over to the couch and tell him to stay put while you gather every tube of lipstick you have.

He's oblivious guys okay you're his first relationship ever how is he supposed to know you're about to smother him to death with kisses?

Liu will be a bit caught off guard when you place the first kiss on his cheek, your lips gentle, mindful of the sensitive skin surrounding his scars.

"What was that for?" He'll ask. And maybe you'll give a cheeky smile and respond with something like, "I'm just testing out my lipstick, babe."

And oh. Oh. That's what you meant when you said you wanted his help.

Liu is nothing if not the greatest boyfriend haver, so even though he gets increasingly more flustered with each kiss you press against his skin, he stays painfully still so as to not interrupt you.

Every time you pressed a kiss against his skin, he'd let out a little sigh. It was rare for him to ever really feel at ease, but it came easy with you.

Sometimes, he wonders if you truly understood the gravity of the love he felt for you.

Each kiss makes his heart race faster and faster, so much so that when you place one last kiss against his lips, he's so overwhelmed by the amount of love he holds for you that Sully thinks he's fucking dying and takes over.

Sully is very confused when he finds that Liu was, in fact, not dying. And you're certainly no help, just smiling and telling him to wash his face off as you clean up.

What.

One look in the mirror gives him the answer he was looking for. His entire face was covered in lipstick stains. This is what had Liu's heart racing so much? Sully really thought he was dying, man.

Turns out the guy is just an idiot in love.

EYELESS JACK

One of the only ones here to really understand what you meant when you asked him for help in finding a kiss proof lipstick, already taking his mask off.

He didn't have anything better to do, and he liked how your eyes lit up when he agreed, so.

He'll sit patiently, watching as you set out all of your lipsticks, setting them out in a color-coded pattern.

Jack will take this very seriously, I think. You won't really be able to get him flustered, because he's determined to figure out if you have any kiss proof lipstick. He's a man on a mission.

Every time you kiss him, he'll pull away from you and look at himself in a mirror to study how visible the stain is. The less he can see it, the better he thinks the lipstick is.

If anything, he'll end up flustering you from the way he'll grab your cheeks and press his thumb against your lip, rubbing the lipstick gently to see how much pressure it takes for it to transfer.

He's not doing this on purpose, he just... doesn't realize the effect he has on you. But between you and me, he's 100% teasing you.

He's the one covered in kisses, and yet you're the one shying away from him and getting all embarrassed. Seems your plan to fluster him backfired.

"You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?" You would ask.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. You're the one who asked for help." Would be his response.

Somehow you end up with more marks on your skin than he does?? Since you get to kiss him a bunch, he doesn't see why he can't kiss you back. And maybe he bites a lil, idk.

This will either end with you scurrying away, or with him pouncing you and abandoning the lipstick. Make your choice.

JASON THE TOYMAKER

He's busy tinkering with a new creation when you enter his workshop carrying every single lipstick you own.

He's too focused on his own work to really pay attention to you, so he just mutters a vague 'yeah' when he hears you ask a question, not really catching anything you said.

Jason's only vaguely aware that you're in the same room as him as he leans forward, brows pinched together as he focuses on stitching up a small stuffed animal.

It's not until he feels you resting your hand on his shoulder, pulling him back slightly and pressing a kiss against his cheek that he's brought to reality.

Just sits there, confused for the longest second, his hand coming up to his cheek where he had felt your lips. He's not against the sudden affection by any means, he's just a bit curious as to why you were suddenly giving him so many kisses.

When you explain how you're trying to find kiss proof lipstick, he lets out a small 'oh' and he goes back to his work.

Or, at least, he tries to get back to his work.

But you continue placing little kisses against his skin every few minutes, and it's making it really hard to focus, and he can feel his face getting hotter and hotter the longer this goes on.

Jason fucking loves you, okay? He tells you it multiple times a day. You are the one for him. So you smothering him with a bunch of kisses has him feeling all soft and gooey inside.

Whatever the hell he was working on before was no longer important to him, his gaze now seemingly glued to you and every little move you make as he leans back in his chair, basking in your attention.

Like hell he'll let you leave when you run out of lipstick.

You doomed yourself the moment you walked into his workshop to even start this little game.

He'll be dragging you down onto his lap and will refuse to let you go until he's had his fill of you. Which could be like... all day. Jason could never get tired of you.

NINA THE KILLER

Hell yeah!! She's been meaning to go through her lipsticks too, so she takes this as an opportunity to do that.

She definitely makes it into a game as well, I think.

You two will trade lipsticks without looking at the labels, and you'd both have to guess who was wearing what lipstick based on the shade and the feel.

The two of you trade kisses, lipstick stains covering her cheeks and your jaw and neck.

She really did just want to find a kiss proof lipstick, but each kiss had her letting out a small giggle.

And she knew you were teasing her, always leaning in for her lips before dodging and pressing another kiss against her cheek.

All that teasing had her feeling flustered, and she just wanted you to stop messing around and kiss her lips already. So when you put on a new thing of lipstick, she doesn't even give you a chance to do anything before she's pulling you closer and slamming her lips against yours.

You probably planned for this to happen, she thinks, but she didn't really care much.

You don't need an excuse to kiss her silly, you just gotta do it.

And when the two of you finally break the kiss, you're both breathless. Lipstick stains your skin, and both of your lips were smeared.

Nina didn't even care about the little game you two had been playing anymore, her hands resting on your cheeks.

She thought you looked stunning like this.

And it's not like you two had any pressing matters to attend to, so she didn't hesitate before leaning in for another kiss.

JEFF THE KILLER

When you had asked him for help with finding a 'kiss proof' lipstick, he honestly didn't understand why. Like... did you want him to put the lipstick on and kiss napkins with you? And why would you need his help doing that anyways?

He would've said no, if you hadn't asked really nicely.

Definitely grumbling about how dumb he thought this was as you get everything together.

Someone would probably assume you had a gun to his head or something from the way he looked as if he didn't want to be there, arms crossed and somehow frowning even though his scars made it look strange.

It really isn't until you place the first kiss against his cheek that he finally shuts up.

Oh. So this is what you had planned?

Truth be told, Jeff wasn't that big a fan of affection unless he was initiating it, but... he supposes he could let it slide, just this once. Especially after you press another kiss to his cheek.

You could never get this man to admit that he's enjoying this, but it's not like he was doing a good job at hiding it, either.

The frown he had was gone, replaced by a smile he was barely able to conceal. Do not point out the smile, he will leave the room if you do.

Each kiss you give him makes his heart race faster and faster, and when you're wiping off the last lipstick you have, talking about how you've yet to find a kiss proof one, Jeff is an utter mess.

He's got his face buried in his hands, cursing to himself for being so weak when it came to you.

Fuck, he really loves you.

[iatrophilosophos]

I hate to burst ur bubble bc this does sound like a very cool life!!! but that is not unthinkably far my friend. The appalachian trail is over 2,000 miles and ppl regularly make it on foot in abt 5 months. Now, most ppl who hike the appalachain trail are not coming up with food on the journey; so i assume a prehistoric trip is gonna take longer, and/but/also i feel like it is entirely feasible to spend, say, ur early 20s wandering around, hanging out with different people and living different places, and cover that much distance in a few years without even really feeling like you made an exceptional journey (at least just on the walking front) cuz like...I can't fully back this up but I'd be shocked if prehistoric hunter gatherers weren't walking hundreds of miles a year even w/o traveling great distances; just in the course of Living Life.

Lots of modern people live traveling long distances and hopping from place to place and while we're never gonna know exactly why someone did what they did thousands of years ago, I tend to think the reasons stay pretty similar. I remember reading a while ago abt how it's actually been really common in tons of cultures across time--including lots and lots of places without aided transport--for young adults to leave their families, locations, & even local culture of origin to go do Something Else with their lives... I'm sure this person was not the Only person to make a journey like this in her time and she probably heard stories from others and decided she wanted to try it out. Some people are Road People, today, back then, and every time and place in between.

Edit: i also think its unlikely that, like someone in the notes is suggesting, her family/home of origin Never Heard From Her Again. This happens all the time and is definitely possible but, even without phones or organized information sharing networks, even with modern population sizes! you might be surprised abt how easy it can be to get news abt a loved one/ex/enemy/etc you ain't seen in years from a traveler who happened upon both them and you. Its a small world, after all, and I think its more fun and lovely to remember that humanity has always been capable of navigating it.

I often think about the remains of a Neolithic woman found at a Prehistoric site in Scotland who was isotope tested and found to have been born in southern England and lived there for a significant portion of her life before relocating to northern Scotland. Her life predated the introduction of horses to Britain so she would have had to walk 700+ miles during her life to get to the place she was ultimately buried. What motivated her to do that? What drove her from her home and to a colder and harsher climate? Was it conflict? Was it wanderlust? Was it love? I can’t remember the name of the site but I think I remember other nearby remains in the group tomb had been tested and found to have been lifelong locals so she was probably an outlier in her new community.

[thewertsearch]

PCG: IF YOU SEE KANAYA IN DEATHBUBBLE HELL, PLEASE TELL HER I'M SORRY I LET HER DOWN. PCG: AND IF YOU SEE SOLLUX WANDERING AROUND TOO, LET HIM KNOW HOW ASHAMED I AM I DITCHED HIM LIKE A COWARD BECAUSE I HEARD A HORN GO HONK. PCG: AND TEREZI PCG: IF YOU SEE HER PCG: COULD YOU GIVE HER A MESSAGE FOR ME? PCG: TELL HER THAT PCG: ACTUALLY PCG: NEVER MIND. PCG: I'LL PROBABLY BE ABLE TO TELL THEM ALL IN PERSON SOON. PCG: SEEING AS AN IDIOT IN MAKEUP IS ABOUT TO ROLL OVER MY NAKED SQUEAL PIPETTE WITH A ONE WHEEL DEVICE. FGA: Sollux Is Okay FGA: Hes With Me Right Now PCG: HOLY SHIT PCG: YOU'RE ALIVE FGA: Hold On I Really Need To Change These Clothes

Have I ever mentioned how much I love Kanaya? Because I love Kanaya. Even before her vampirism, she was always a ray of light in the darkness.

Also, reading this paragraph has reminded me that we already know why Sollux shouldn't be able to see the Green Sun.

HE'S BLIND, REMEMBER?

I assume his dream projection just didn't inherit that trait. No idea why he can only see it with one eye, though.

After the Gamzee/Tavros fakeout, I don't have a clue whether this one's supposed to be a Dream Bubble - and frankly, I'm not even sure if I want this to be Gamzee's ghost.

Up until recently, I’ve safely been able to assume that a character’s death would mark an end to any threat they represent, at least until they get resurrected. With the introduction of these Bubbles, though, characters can now continue to affect the plot after they've been taken off the board. In the case of our heroes, that's obviously a good thing, but we've got plenty of characters who were taken off the board for a reason.

Now, Vriska’s ghost is already mellowing out, and Eridan’s not resourceful enough to pull anything crafty – but Gamzee’s ghost? That’s one we should probably keep an eye on.

TC: it's all your fault.

Why? What did Dave do?

...oh, right, right, the ICP video. Based on Gamzee's comment about not having a 'good pie' for a while, I think Dave might have triggered Gamzee's crisis of faith just as he started to go cold turkey. This really was a nightmare scenario for the poor guy.

[sahrii]

🤲🏽 msby black jackals!atsumu x reader angst where reader and atsumu are dating in secret but his fans dont know and y/n gets pretty hurt and jealous over some incident (you can choose) and its hurt/comfort with atsumu posting y/n 🙏🏽

smau + written if u can? snjdjsjdka sorry

only this time ! 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

atsumu miya x gn!reader

warnings! please pay attention to the dates and times, they’re kind of important, emotionally overwhelmed reader, mentions of drinking, hurt to comfort, mentions of crying, stupid atsumu :(, reader is alr friends w kiyoko and yachi, private relationship, cursing

also i’d like to thank @dearru for beta reading hehe thank u sm!

[11.11.2018, 12.08pm]

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

[11.11.2018, 12.34pm]

that was the first time atsumu never stood up to his words. he never ended up coming. he never ended up hugging you. never ended up telling you that it’s going to be okay. never ended up with his lips on yours, murmuring between kisses that he loves you to the point where it was going to kill him. never.

it was a murky, lonely night. you’d given up on him coming ages ago and sat on the soft yet lorn mattress of your bed, wrapped in what seems like ten blankets, thinking you’d be better off with his body heat instead of your own—or the blankets.

he’s probably too tired from practice. or something important popped up. or it might be that he’s just stuck in traffic and he’ll end up coming. you continued making excuses for him while drifting off to sleep, thinking of how good your night would’ve been with his arms wrapped around your figure and your head on his toned chest, listening to the echoes of his heart whispering words of love into your ears.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

[12.11.2018, 11.23am]

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

your trembling fingers clicked on the video yachi sent. this couldn’t be him. it couldn’t be atsumu. not when you told him you felt like absolute crap yesterday.

your eyes began to sting with tears and your felt as though the weight of the whole world fell unto your shoulders. you felt suffocated. suffocated and every other connotation of that word as if someone was purposely clutching at the back of your neck and pushing your head into water. you couldn’t breathe.

he didn’t even bother texting—no, he was out, getting drunk with his teammates at a fancy restaurant surrounded by a bunch of girls. truth be told, he wasn’t quite close to any of the girls, who you assumed were fans, but that didn’t really matter. what mattered is that he wasn’t there when you wanted him to be.

you chucked your phone to the other end of the bed and buried your face into the closest pillow to you and let your sorrowed tears soak the case of your white pillow.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

[21.11.2018, 4.03pm]

[notes: left on seen]

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

[21.11.2018, 9.28pm]

one knock, followed by two then another one. it was atsumu’s hallmark knock. you know that because it’s what he’s been doing every time he comes over. one knock, two knocks, and then one more knock.

you expected him to come, but hoped he didn’t. or maybe, deep inside, you hoped he’d come. you missed the way the earthy, clean smell of his cologne sneaked into your nostrils every time you’d nuzzle your head into the crook of his neck. the way his autumn brown eyes stared into yours. your missed the way his hand felt against yours, soft yet peppered with tiny callouses.

your breath hitches as you opened the door, only to find atsumu. your atsumu. with worried, remorseful eyes. eyes that screamed at you with apologies.

you stepped aside, silently inviting him in, and he accepted, gratefully by stepping a foot in. you closed the door, eyes stuck to the ground, unable to meet his honey orbs.

you wanted to hug him and tell him how much you missed your body being embraced by his arms and your fingers combing his soft yet tangled hair and—

“i—fuck! ’m sorry. ’m so sorry, i didn’t—listen, that day I was gonna come over, i really was—but i completely forgot that we had the team’s annual dinner that day—it completely slipped out of my mind and, i don’t know, i’m a dumbass ‘kay? i’m a shitty boyfriend and—“ he breathed. his hands were clenched and glued to his sides. “i’m an asshole and ’m sorry. you don’t deserve that, you deserve way better and you deserve to feel like you’re my priority. fuck—’m so sorry,” he stared into your eyes. you could feel your eyes stinging with tears, and a lump forming at the back of your throat.

“atsumu—listen, i was upset and i’m still upset. like—it’s not even the fact that you went out. if you sent me a text, i would’ve not minded. it’s the fact that you went out when i told you that i felt like shit and then never texted—like—i had to know from a video yachi sent on the group chat. do you know how much that hurt, atsumu?” your rasped out, fighting against the tears. in your heart, you’ve already forgiven him, but in your head, you had to tell him because you don’t think you can handle feeling like second to everything else one more time.

“i know, and i honestly don’t have anything to say to that. that was so shitty of me, i don’t know what the fuck came over me. ’m sorry,i—i promise this won’t happen again,” his hand was clutching his hair now, slightly tugging it. “so please, ’m sorry—please forgive me,” he whispered. it was as if you could see his voice physically break, and that was all it took for you to hurry his way and swing both your arms around his neck. and for him to wrap his arms around your torso.

it felt good, all the tension melted away. the weight on your shoulders was pushed off as soon as your skin made contact with his. as soon as you felt the hot breath of his mouth landing onto the crook of your neck. you pulled away slightly so that your eyes were directly staring at his, noses almost touching.

“only this time,” you said, referring to the fact that you forgave him so easily.

“only this time,” he repeated, hugging you closer.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

[21.11.2018, 11.35pm]

later that night, after briefing each other about how your days have been without each other around, he said that he had to send a quick text to the coach telling him he’ll be missing practice tomorrow to spend the whole day with you (he was secretly planning to miss the whole week, but was too afraid to tell you so he decided to leave it till tomorrow night).

your head was laying on his chest, listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat, legs tangled with his. your thumb lazily swiped down against the slightly cracked screen of your phone, updating your twitter feed every few seconds while he was busy texting his coach.

suddenly, a new post on atsumu’s twitter appeared. a picture of both your hands intertwined with the caption: [for everyone asking what’s the most important thing to me]

you glanced from your phone into his handsome face, leaning in to place a small peck on the apples of his cheek.

“you are such a dork” you grinned, snuggling into his chest one again.

“you love me though” he replied, lopsidedly smiling.

and it was true, you did love him.

[fleshdyk3]

i actually cant stop thinking abt how liberal this post is. like every single point here just shows how little this person knows abt the world. the "drunks" comment like everyone who has ever stepped foot in a bar is a movie alcoholic (and also the complete lack of any kind of consideration towards the realities of addiction. bc drugs bad). the "non allergenic cats" with the "of course" is sooo funny to me bc like the whole point of cat cafes is to work with shelters and help cats get adopted. not be cottagecore aesthetic griffindor wet dreams. like not only do non allergenic cats not exist, there is like zero shelter cats that are hypoallergenic. obviously. also the "section of the cafe where cats cant go"??? what do you think a cat cafe is like like do you think the cats are allowed to roam wherever they want? obviously not what are you on about 😭 if theres food being served fucking obviously theres spots cats cant go. this is just like common sense. also i loooove love love the rainbow capitalism of it all like the little pride flags everywhere (even the obscure ones) and the £1.50 pins... its just so funny to me. i just love the way the op has never even considered the world being any different than how it is at all. also the led lights followed immediately by autism friendly is fucking frying me like come aaawnnn.... you cannot be serious 😭😭😭 im also very confused on what led lights like... means here. There are LED lights. like what does this mean what does tgis have to do with gay culture or whatever. i can only assume theyre talking about those rainbow strip lights but that seems so out of place in a cat cafe when we're considering the idealized aesthetic version of whatever this is in the op's head. "mostly queer artists" is hilarious too bc like why not all 😭 they cant even get all queer artists playing over the radio. also you can have a sticker to write your pronouns on. like im just talking here im not really saying anything but like this post is just hysterical to me. you just know a millennial with a mortgage made this post

we should like end these people's lives

[ladykailitha]

The Au Pair Boy Part 10

Just a reminder no posting next week, as I have to recover from the holidays and all the fics I wrote.

Eddie throws a homecoming party and friends get hella pushy, so both Steve and Eddie push back

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Pt 7 Part 8 Part 9

~

The next night Eddie threw a coming home party and invited all the people Steve had hired, the D&D boys (Mike and Dustin), and even let Steve bring Robin as his plus one.

As Steve walked in with Robin, he instantly spotted three men he didn’t know. The broad-chested black man was talking to Charles in one corner of the room, while the other two, a heavy set man and a short, curly haired man was talking to Dustin. And judging from how animated they were getting, Steve was gonna bet they were talking about D&D.

He had even had a chance to look for their host, when Eddie came bounding up to them with a big grin on his face.

“Stevie!” he greeted warmly. “You made it! Everyone else is here at the ball, Cinderella. Come, come meet my friends.”

Eddie grabbed Steve’s hand and dragged him over to the two talking with Dustin first. “This is Bri-guy and Gare-bear!”

Steve laughed and shook their hands. “I’m the nanny.”

Eddie bumped their shoulders together. “He’s much more than that, he’s an amazing cook and the girls love him.”

“I’m Brian and this Gareth,” Brian said shaking his head. “And we know all about you. This idiot wouldn’t stop talking about the an–”

Eddie slapped his hand over Brian’s mouth and grinned brightly at Steve. “I think that’s about enough of these two, don’cha think?”

Robin got a twinkle of mischief in her eye. “Not at all. I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Robin, the best friend and platonic soulmate of Steve. We’ve been friends for ages. How long have you known Eddie?”

Gareth grinned at her, sensing a partner in crime. “Oh ages. We all went to high school together. I’m not the original drummer and Bri isn’t the original bassist, but we’re the lightning in the bottle that made Corroded Coffin what it is today.”

Eddie dropped his hand from Brian’s mouth to put his hands on his hips. “How dare!”

Brian and Gareth cackled. And suddenly they were joined but whom Steve assumed was the final member of Corroded Coffin, Jeff Lawrence.

“Are we all picking on Eddie?” he asked gleefully.

“No!” Eddie and Steve cried at the same time the other three cried, “Yes!”

Jeff snapped his fingers. “Ooh! I like her! Jeff, the better guitarist of Corroded Coffin and its lead singer.”

Eddie pushed Jeff. “Oh get out. Only for the last album when we were trying something different. It was not something the fans liked. Asshole.”

“I’ve got to tease you, man,” Jeff huffed with a grin. “It’s so easy!”

“This is Jeffy,��� Eddie groused, folding his arms like a scolded toddler. “Meet Steve and Robin.”

“Nice to put a name to the faces,” Jeff said with a charming grin. “Eddie talked all about Steve so Robin’s name came up a lot.”

Steve blushed, but Robin grinned.

“Glad to hear I made it to the dispatch notes,” she said, then turned to Eddie. “I’ve got to say, I really love this house. It looks like it stepped out of pages of a gothic horror film. It’s awesome!”

Eddie took a bow. “Why thank you, my lady!” He looked around his house proudly. “That was the look I was going for. I can’t stand all this sterile white, grey, and beige bullshit that is in vogue right now. Give me color and character!”

“Have you seen what Steve’s done to his room yet?” Robin asked cheerfully, knowing full well what she was insinuating.

Eddie flushed a bright pink, shoving his hair in face to hide the blush and Steve stared at her in wide-eye, slack-jawed shock.

“Robin!” he hissed, flapping his hands at her in embarrassment and dismay.

She grinned at him unrepentantly, folding her arms over her chest and sitting back to see what Eddie would say.

“I–I um...” he coughed. “I haven’t had the opportunity to see how Steve spruced up the place, no.”

“Robin,” Steve said low and deep in warning. “Eddie hasn’t had a reason to see my rooms yet as he’s only been home for thirty-six hours.”

Robin just batted her eyelashes at him innocently. “I would have thought he would have wanted to see what you did to the rooms he’s letting you use in his house.”

The other three members of the band were falling over each other, just cackling over this exchange. Steve was red from the tips of his ears all the way down the dip in his collar. Eddie’s mind tried to follow the thought of how much further the blush went. He didn’t have to think about it long as Steve grabbed Robin and hauled her off elsewhere.

He turned to his friends. “Oh shut it. Assholes.”

“Dude,” Jeff said breathlessly clutching his sides, “like that was the most pathetic thing I’ve ever witnessed and that includes the time Gareth tried to hit on the supermodel that last Grammy’s.”

“Hey!” Gareth huffed. “I got a date out of that, I’ll have you know!”

Brian put his arm around Gareth’s shoulder. “After I told her that you weren’t as big an ass as that interaction displayed. She was going to lose your number, man.”

Gareth folded his arms and pouted. “I hate you both.”

“But seriously, Ed,” Jeff said turning his attention back to Eddie who had been trying to slip away from them before they noticed he was gone.

He failed.

“It’s obvious he has the hots for you,” Jeff continued, “so why aren’t you tapping that ass? You wouldn’t shut up about him the whole time we were on tour. It was actually kinda annoying.”

“For real,” Brian agreed. “And please I don’t want to hear how you’re not ready to get out there again after Ethan left, or how you’re paying him to look after you girls because I’ve seen him with them and holy shit they adore him.”

Eddie buried his head in his hands. “Guys, I haven’t been home for forty-eight hours yet. Can you not try and hook me up with my daughters’ nanny for fuck sake?” He peered around Jeff, making sure Steve was out of earshot. “I don’t really know him yet. Yes, we talked a lot about everything during the tour but I haven’t had to live with him under my roof yet. I could hate the way he takes three showers a day or whatever.”

Jeff and Brian shared an exasperated look as Brian threw his hands in the air. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Eddie crossed his arms over his chest and took a step back on one leg. “That maybe if me and Ethan had lived together before we got married, maybe the marriage wouldn’t have blown up like it did.”

It was a small and simple “Oh,” from Jeff, but it encapsulated all the feelings of the three other members of Corroded Coffin.

“Shit,” Gareth hissed, running his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have pushed but we just wanted you to be happy. And you light up around Steve in a way I haven’t seen you do in years.”

“What would you know?” Eddie spat bitterly. He looked around at all of them. “What would any of you know? You scattered like kids around a broken window the second the band broke up. And where were you when Ethan left? Or when Wayne broke his leg? I appreciated the tour, it really helped me prioritize things. But you don’t get to come into my house and act like you’ve been there the whole fucking time when you haven’t.”

Eddie stormed off, leaving the three of them there with shocked expressions.

“Shit,” Jeff said, hissing out a pained breath. “He’s right. Fuck. He’s right. We should have flown out the second he told us about Ethan. But we kept putting it off until the deal about the tour came around and then suddenly we were interested in his life only when it benefited us.”

Gareth ran his hands down his face and rolled his eyes skyward. “Fuck. What kind of friends have we been? Like we’re all rich enough that hopping on a plane wouldn’t have even dented our fortunes at all. We should have been for the messy divorce and been helping take care of the girls. But what were we even doing that couldn’t have been put on hold?”

“I was the closest,” Jeff huffed. “I was in New York. Hell, I could driven down. But little shit just kept cropping up. Miranda’s health scare. Then she got pregnant and lost the baby. Which were important at the time, but Eddie needed me.”

“I don’t have any excuse,” Gareth said, shaking his head. “Because yeah, I was on the otherside of the world, but Eddie would have flown around the world a dozen times for me, but I couldn’t fly half way.”

Brian’s lip quivered. “My mom got cancer around the time, but I don’t think she would have begrudged me flying out to see Eddie. But I didn’t even give it a second thought.”

Jeff looked around the room for Eddie and spotted him standing next to Steve. Robin wandered off, leaving Steve sitting on a table, ankles crossed, swinging them back and forth, drink in hand as he listened to some story Eddie was telling him.

Jeff continued to watch as Eddie must have said something funny, because Steve threw head back and laughed.

“I think I see the silver lining to our neglect, boys,” he murmured, pointing out the tableau before them.

The other two men turned and looked. Steve was nodding vigorously, big smile on his face as he told his own story to Eddie.

“Because if we had been here to help Eddie around the house,” Jeff continued, “then he wouldn’t have gotten so desperate to hire a male nanny. Yeah, we fucked up. We pushed too hard. But damn boys, look at what grew in that barren wasteland, anyway.”

“So it’s settled,” Brian said, “we’re all staying in Indy to help Eddie and Steve get together, right?”

Gareth nodded. “Damn straight we are. Plus those kids Steve found to play D&D, I’d stick around just to see their style.”

“Looks like Operation: Refriend Eddie is a go, boys,” Jeff said excitedly, putting his arms around both of his friends. “And maybe we’ll get a wedding out of this, too.”

~

Steve had given Robin a good talking to. Like maybe don’t proposition his boss on his behalf before the sheets had even had time to warm up, yeah?

It took some proper talking to her to before she relented and apologized. Then stomped off to find some real booze. Steve knew she was going to raid Eddie’s liquor cabinet, but considering most of it was already out, he didn’t figure Eddie would mind too much.

Then a glass of whiskey was being dangled in front of him. He looked up to see Eddie smiling down at him. Steve took the glass with a murmur of thanks.

“Here’s to interfering best friends!” Steve said raising his glass to Eddie’s.

Eddie clinked their glasses together with wary smile. “I just wish they had been around more before they started interfering in my business. They weren’t around to pick up the pieces, so they don’t get to decide when to change puzzles.”

“Here’s to that.” Steve took a drink. “Robin is just trying to make sure I’m happy and she knows how much I love this place.” He shook his head. “I’m content with being the Au Pair Boy. I don’t need anything else.”

“You are much more than that,” Eddie said fiercely. “My girls love you. You’re special, don’t sell yourself short.”

“I promise.” Steve looked up at him through his eyelashes. “I love those little girls too.”

“Don’t look now,” Eddie said with a grin, “but I think our friends are spying on us.”

Steve took a drink of his whiskey and looked up through his eyelashes and sure enough the Corroded Coffin boys and Robin were all looking over at them, trying to look they weren’t.

“Quick, laugh!” Eddie said and Steve burst out laughing genuinely. “Oh, that was perfect. Good job.”

“Learning the art of actually laughing when you’re supposed to be fake laughing,” Steve said warmly, “is a skill taught to the children of socialites like my mother from birth.”

“I wish they gave you a crash course when you become famous,” Eddie said with a weary smile, “because holy shit it’s like being dumped in a shark tank!”

Steve winced in sympathy. “Yeah, they should teach classes and stuff.”

“Annoying best friends aside,” Eddie murmured. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

Steve looked up into his eyes and smiled fondly. “I am too.”

~

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @tartarusknight @gregre369

2- ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @cryptid-system @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi

3- @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch

4- @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @ollieolive @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1

5- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

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7- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

8- @sadisticaltarts @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @dolphincliffs @steddie-as-they-go @steddieislife

9- @kultiras @morallyundefined @themoonagainstmers @fearieshadow @blondie1006

10- @thesecondfate @wheneverfeasible @depressed-freak13 @genderless-spoon @yesdangerpls

[rilestothemiles]

a semi lengthy post on the relationship between the drakes:

disclaimer: I am too lazy to find more panels than what I already have so u kinda have to just trust me when I say stuff which works a lot better over on twitter where people actually Know Me but. I will cite the panels I have used and highly encourage u all to read robin 1993.

I know this is an unpopular opinion but I think the dc fandom, the part that actually reads the comics, does way too big of a pendulum swing on fanon’s crazy abusive drakes thing. I do think the drakes neglect tim and neglect is a form of abuse. it’s not inaccurate to call the drakes abusive. I do however think calling them abusers is a stretch.

the fanon portrayal IS inacurate, I feel mainly due to the fact that they leave out how much love they all had for each other. and you can see that shown over and over again. especially the way jack speaks to tim right after janet's death and with jack’s reaction tim being stranded in no man’s land.

(batman (1937) #480)

(robin (1993) #72)

is his reaction in no man’s land a dramatic one? yes. is it unwarranted? not at all. for all jack knows, tim could die. and his response to that is anger. something any parent fearful of losing their kid would exhibit. he clearly cares deeply about tim’s wellbeing, in fact, he cares so much he makes sure the news of tim being trapped in no man’s land is shown on every station.

(robin (1993) #72)

which, while embarrassing for tim, ends up being pretty much the sole power no man’s land comes to an end. go dad power!

(robin (1993) #73)

in addition to that, tim clearly mourns his parents. not that you cant mourn an abuser, but that’s not what this is.

(detective comics (1937) #621)

(identity crisis (2004) #6)

not to mention, of course, that tim did have mrs. mac when the drakes were on trips. he was not left home alone edit: I have since been corrected by the lovely spoilerjpeg that mrs. mac was not hired until after jack drake woke up from his coma. it is assumed that tim was at boarding school during these years, given the drakes did not have a place of permanent residence before.

in contagion, when tim is literally on his death bed he hallucinates his family, alive, happy, together, and aware of his identity. he misses his mom. he very clearly loves her, and he sees himself running up into her arms.

(the batman chronicles (1995) #4 - begger's banquet)

tim's identity remains a point of tension, as tim desperately wants to reveal it to his dad, but cant, as it would compromise the identities of the rest of the bat family. you see this illustrated as early as batman 480 which I reference in this post multiple times, and the issue of robin in their relationships remains up until the death of jack drake. it hits a peak in issue 124 of robin 93, where jack discovers tim's identity and is well, upset. saddened. afraid. his first thought isn't anger, it's immense grief. he's clearly afraid of losing tim, he mourns the him. and this panel is later paralleled with tim's reaction to jack's death. jack doesn't even blame tim, he instantly goes to bruce, filled with grief and anger. he doesnt know what to do. and how do you threaten bruce wayne or batman? let alone both? bruce has endangered his child for years now, without telling him, and his eyes, forbidden his kid from telling him, this reaction, in my opinion, makes complete sense, and I honestly commend jack drake for it. it takes balls to stand up to bruce/batman and he's doing it for his kid.

(robin (1993) #124)

all this being said, I think the drakes never really wanted to be parents. it’s the expectation of the times. theyre academics, travelers, their lifestyle isnt suited to that of a child’s.

(robin (1993) #11)

(batman (1937) #480) - the note reads: "Dear Dad, I wish could go back and start over again! When I was a kid, I used to dream - to pray - that you and mom would stop travelling, forget business and just settle down. We'd be together, the way a family ought to be... now I have my wish. I'm going to with you all the time. And it's tearing me apart."

tim addresses that letter to "the father I never knew." tim and jack got the chance to rectify that, but tim and janet’s relationship never really had the time to recover from it and I think tim can have an idealized version of her in his head as a result of it.

jack really fails tim in a number of ways. he says he’ll make an effort after janet dies and you expect for that to be a catalyst for him, especially because he actively says it will be, and it isnt.

he does this a number of times. he says he’ll make an effort and then he doesnt. or he ends up making a huge amount of effort all at once and then stops, the cycle repeats. tim learns to expect it.

(batman (1937) #480)

(robin (1993) #15)

later, he goes way too hard on the strict dad thing, which I get, because tim isnt an easy kid by any means, but he forgets that tim has never Had that structure, and he needs to actually build the relationship’s foundation first if he wants to decide to be a parent now, and he never does.

(batman (1937) #480) - the note reads: "Funny. how once you never seemed to care - at least, you never showed me that you did. And now you want to run my life. Do you really think we can start over..?"

jack also often doesnt even give tim the chance to explain himself, even in situations that really weren't his fault.

(robin (1993) #44-45)

it never really ends up being just tim and his dad, because the second jack gets out his coma he brings in dana, and shes honestly what keeps the relationship from not worsening. dana is often the mediator, telling dana to ease up on tim. it’s dana who influences jack to put in an effort. shes the catalyst, not janet’s death.

(robin (1993) #47)

warning for the upcoming pages - mentions of underage (consensual) sex as an unhealthy coping mechanism after an implied sexual assault (from someone outside the relationship)

(robin (1993) #45)

even with her mediating, things are still rough between jack and tim. jack very clearly has no idea how to parent tim, never really having had to before. tim has always been extremely self sufficient, mainly due to his parents' neglect.

(baatman (1937) #480) - the note reads: "I've no idea who you think I am, Dad - but I'm not that boy. I had to fend for myself for a long time. I changed, Dad. I have a lot of... secrets."

jack really never had to discipline tim, mainly as a result of often not being around to do it. which means he is not always the best parent, and not what tim needs. he also misinterprets a lot of tim's behaviours that he has as a result of being robin as a sign of disrespect.

(robin (1993) #45)

dana's presence is also another point of conflict as well, another way tim’s belief that jack will always choose something/someone else over him is reinforced. and he’s not wrong to think it. jack’s neglect of tim continues well after janet dies.

(robin (1993) #12)

I think tim is right to be pissed when jack all of a sudden decides to step up. I think jack’s reactions to tim’s actions make sense, but I cant defend them when he hasnt created the foundation needed to execute that. plus, he switches often between being too strict, with him watching tim too closely and judging him for it, and being neglectful.

I see a lot of people say “tim doesnt make an effort either!” well. Yeah. hes never had to before. and it’s not On Him to make that connection at all. hes the kid. and honestly the effort jack makes, especially in the start, feels like a way to display his masculinity to dana. or just... strange. and maybe not what tim needs, instead being what jack tries to project onto him.

(total justice (1996) #1)

I think sometimes people end up projecting on tim and/or projecting their parents on the drakes and they dont want to acknowledge their own parents’ mistakes, so they defend the drakes'.

the drakes arent bad parents, but they arent good ones either. they're human, at the end of the day. theres a lot of love between the drakes, and a lot of hurt too. it’s very hard to find nuanced conversations about that. I think they have a very realistic relationship, especially given the times.

[daengtokki]

part eight // serial killer!Kim Seungmin/afab reader

WC: 13k

RATING: mature/explicit/mdni—contains: self harm, hallucinations, monsters(?), medication mention, pregnancy, fluff...and a new OC

SYNOPSIS: Seungmin floats through life alone, haunted by his memories—keeping himself under control, and quieting his mind the only way he knows how…killing and watching the life leave his victims eyes. When you cross his path on a morning hunt, something new (something forgotten) starts to move inside of him, leading both of you on a path to confront the unspeakable past.

COMMENTS: Hi guys, I'm kinda back. I hope you all enjoy part eight! We still have a long way to go. Please reblog and help support me and my work! I love and appreciate you all very much ♡ ˎˊ˗

[ ML — DEITY MASTERLIST AND TAGLIST ]

TAGLIST: @kkamismom12 / @r0tt1n / @heluvschibi / @feckinbecky / @missystay / @seungluvr / @babrieeee / @curiouscocoabean / @feelikecinderella / @carpioassists / @soulsbbg / @san-axa0 / @vixensss / @keiizzx / @xyliskz / @reignessance / @velvetmoonlght / @ghostedgameplays

It’s not as bad as you thought it would be. It doesn’t look quite like how it sounded when it hit the floor, but each side of the music box separated from itself on impact, and now it’s a sad shell of its former self. You can fix it, though—you have to fix it.

You lower yourself for a closer look, making sure to avoid the sparkling glass covering so much of the floor. The glimmer of something else catches your eye, so you move carefully, pinch the silver chain between your fingers, and pull it from its tiny pool of water. “Can I wear this until it’s in one piece again?”

An odd request, maybe, but Seungmin doesn’t bat an eye at it. “You wanna wear St. Michael? Are you feeling guilty again, or…” he pulls his shirt over his head, sweat soaked from his workout—disposing of the body. “Feeling the snares of the devil?”

“Should I be feeling him?” That wasn’t a yes, but you clasp it around your neck anyway.

He smiles at you and shrugs.

“You’re no devil”

“No? You’re just blinded by me. Biased.”

“True. What did you do to me?”

His face falls in confusion. “Nothing. I mean…I always wondered if—“

“Minnie, I’m joking.” But he still has that worried look in his eyes. It’s been a while since you’ve seen it. “What have you always wondered?”

Now he seems reluctant to finish. Seungmin grabs his clean towel and shorts and looks toward the door, but he turns to you again. “…if I did do something to you that night. It’s silly.”

“When I passed out?”

“When you died,” he corrects you. “You were dead, no pulse. One minute and…forty seconds.”

“You never told me that”

“I never told you how long you were gone?”

“And that I had no pulse”

He takes a few steps toward you. “No, I guess I didn’t. I thought you knew.”

Seungmin touches the medallion on your chest, examines it, avoids looking directly at you. He’s thinking, you assume, about whatever it is he believes happened when you died for one minute and forty seconds. His hands are warm on your skin, and you’re already craving his touch again, but his mind seems to be somewhere else entirely.

“I was wearing it that night. Usually, I take it off when I go to bed, but I fell asleep reading.”

“What night?” You take his hand in yours, but he slips away and starts toward the door. “Seungmin, what night?” The air starts to feel thick with tension. Seungmin’s mind still turns so quickly sometimes, but not this quickly.

“Can we talk after I shower?”

/ / /

The living room fills with the scent of almond blossom tea and Seungmin’s steamy, citrusy shower. He spent a long time in there—washing away his kill, thinking of a way to tell you his story, wondering if it’s time. It has to be. Seungmin knows you’ve earned every truth he has to give. It’s the least he can do. He stares absently at the floor with his mug cupped in both hands. “The night my mom and stepdad died.”

Your mind goes every which way, wondering what direction his story is going to go in. “They both died the same night?”

“Yes. I should have told you this when you opened up to me months ago.”

“No, not if you weren’t ready”

It feels so complicated in his head, but telling you everything takes no more than ten minutes, even through the tears that eventually start falling. And in that ten minutes, you end up on the couch, Seungmin curled up in your arms for comfort. Still, he left out a few details, like her voice starting right there in the greenhouse; his trip into the woods hoping to be taken by the thing that lived there—still lives there.

He melts into you even more. “That’s worse than I could have ever imagined, my poor sweet Minnie.”

The ground in Uljin is sour, except for where his mother rests, and everything about your visit there starts to make sense. The shed is the rotting corpse of his stepfather, and its arms still reach far enough to hurt Seungmin. The garden he and his mother created; the greenhouse, and every single everlasting flower that it holds seems to keep him here, reaching a little further and giving you who you have in your arms.

“I’m so glad you made it through.”

“Did I? Sometimes it feels like I died back there…” he stops and sniffles, wipes his cheeks, “in the woods.”

“You didn’t. You’re here with me, like you’re supposed to be.”

Seungmin is exhausted, physically and mentally. His eyes close, and his body relaxes as he puts his arms around you again.

“The woods where he left you. The same ones from your dream last night?”

He mumbles a yes.

“The ones we drove through…I didn’t like those woods”

“There’s nothing to like about them”

“They felt haunted”

“That’s one way of describing it. They were like that long before I put him the ground, and now it’s worse. The dirt he’s decaying in hates me just as much as he did.”

“He’s still there? Is she?”

A long blank stare, followed by a slow nod. “Yes.” Seungmin looks at you, still so full of secrets, but he’s running out of energy to keep going.

“What did the rest of your family think happened?”

“That he killed her, and disappeared”

Now it’s your turn to close your eyes and relax in his embrace. Just learning about his past is tiring, and overwhelming. How could a nine year old come out of that? Seungmin did, but it damaged him so severely he can no longer live a normal life.

“I was sick before any of that happened, though,” he starts again. “Umma knew I was seeing and hearings, but she didn’t know what to do, except give me this…” He touches the necklace again, presses his lips to your chest, “and pray, read to me, surround me with flowers. But I was so much worse after he left me in the woods. And he didn't believe I needed a doctor."

For the first time in a long time, you’re lost for words. There’s not much you can say right now to bring him the comfort he needs, but your touch might help. You kiss his forehead, and rub his back until he lifts his head to look at you. He just stares, searching your face for something; waiting for more, maybe. Does he still think the things he tells you will scare you off?

“It’s genetic, isn’t it?” He asks.

“Yeah, I think so”

“So…the chances of one of them being sick—”

You knead your fingers into his neck and squeeze before he finishes. If only you could make this one worry go away. “They’ll be okay. We’ll worry about that when…if…the time comes.”

“Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“You’ve been seeing things, too. Has that ever happened before?”

“No”

/ / /

Why are you seeing things? The thought hadn’t occurred to you until now, because everything from the last several months has been some level of strange. The dreams felt like dreams, even after you discovered they were echoes of Seungmin’s nightmares, and even how easy and beautiful it felt to fall for him didn’t seem unusual. The truth is, that’s never happened to you...nobody has ever been as close to you as he is. The connection is preternatural. If there were ever time to use that word, this is it. “No, I’ve never even seen a ghost. Seeing that dog under the bed is the first time something like that has happened.”

“So, maybe it was really there”

You shake your head. “If so, it had to have slipped into a tear in the fabric of space…a wormhole. Or it’s just magic.”

“Like Bulgae”

“Bulgae?”

“Mm, they’re just mythical creatures, a fairytale I guess. The fire dogs that chase…oh,” he rubs his chin with his knuckles, and his eyes wonder around the room. They land on the window, where the quarter moon stares in. “They chase the sun and the moon. Do you think there’s a tear in space under my bed?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised, Minnie”

“Are you up for a long drive tomorrow?”

Seungmin doesn’t like going home—you assume, and he doesn’t pretend it’s easy. He does it as if it’s a necessary pilgrimage to a partially sacred place. He has to fight through the oppressive evil to get to the little bit of warmth still existing there, and he’s succeeded every time so far. But this is only your second time accompanying him.

“You can sleep if you’re comfortable,” his fingers run down your arm and wrap around your wrist. “I can see how tired you are.”

Yesterday was exhausting, and your dreams kept you up most of the night. The dog returned, just the white one, but it didn’t try to hurt you. It didn’t even look at you. You watched it from the balcony as it struggled to reach what you assume was some representation of the moon; a glowing blue sphere in the middle of the city, far too low to be any celestial body. Upon waking up, you decided it had been the weirdest dream you’ve had in a long list of weird dreams.

“Okay.” You don’t fight him, or the overwhelming urge to close your burning eyes. “I’ll try.”

When you wake, the car is parked, and you’re alone. Seungmin kept the engine running, the music low, and the doors locked, and when he returns several minutes later, you’re already sound asleep again. He gets in as quietly and gently as possible with the bag full of snacks he’s hoping you’ll like, but for now, he’s happy to see you sleeping so soundly. And that’s what he does for a little while longer—he watches you, listens to you breathing, and wonders if you’re in the middle of a dream. He hopes not. Or if you are, it’s a good one. Neither of you seem to have much luck with that.

You groan and shift, and Seungmin can’t help but reach out for you. He swipes his fingertips across your forehead, tucks some hair behind your ear.

“Where are we?”

“Almost there”

“Did you get me something?” Seungmin digs around in the bag and holds it out for you. “Oh a triangle, thank you!”

“Mhm, if you eat two you can have your cookies”

“Did you get yourself something besides coffee?”

“I’m not very hungry”

When he eats, he eats well, but sometimes he goes far too long without. “You didn’t eat before we left.” You don’t push it, though. The trip might be the reason for his lack of appetite, so the sooner you start heading home, the better. “Do you wanna bite? Just a little one.” Seungmin watches you unwrap it, and when you hold it up to his lips, he opens up and takes a much bigger bite than you expect. “Good boy."

He stops chewing, and a slow smile starts to appear. “Hm?”

“Oh…uhm”

He covers his mouth as he finishes chewing and swallowing, but as soon as it’s down, he laughs softly behind his hand. “Say it again.” Seungmin leans forward and takes another bite.

“Good…” you kiss the top of his head, and he laughs despite his mouthful of tuna and rice, “good boy.”

“Thank you,” he washes it down with his coffee and points to the remaining piece, “your turn, both of them.“

“Can I have a sip of your coffee?”

Seungmin smiles again, pretends to think…he never actually says no to you. “Yeah, one little sip.”

The road you’re on isn’t one you recognize, but the trees and hills are very much what you remember from your December trip. It’s so much different now—it’s brighter, and more colorful. The blue sky makes everything look bigger, and much less claustrophobic, and you hope seeing it like this is a little easier on him. Flowers are blooming all over the sides of the roads, and at the edge of the woods you pass; in gardens and open fields. His backyard will at least be dry and warm this time around. The forest is no different. It’s oppressive and dark. Eerily quiet, except for a few bugs chirping in the darkest corners. You roll down the window and smell the air, and you decide it might be the only nice thing about it.

“What was that?” You turn the volume down on the radio and listen again.

“I didn’t hear anything”

You wonder if he did, and he’s just pretending he didn’t. “That…” An unmistakable rumble, like the echo of a car engine in the distance, but not quite. It cuts out abruptly, and that’s the last time you hear it. When you look at him again, his face is blank, and maybe a little bit pale, so you drop it.

When you finally, truly arrive, you’re not sure if the car will actually make it up the slight incline to park next to the house. It’s not dry at all. The surrounding area is still covered in a wet muddy mess, almost as bad as it was in December…but somehow, Seungmin makes it.

“You okay?”

“Huh…oh yeah, I’m good. Just not wearing the right shoes for this.”

“Most of the area stays pretty nasty until the snowmelt dries, and then it gets muddy again as soon as the rainy season starts.”

His door pops open, “stay there.” He rounds the car and opens yours, “okay,” and kneels down.

“Minnie, I can get a little muddy”

“I know, but you don’t have to. C’mon.”

All you can picture in your head is him slipping, falling, and you going down with him, but then you remember how easily he managed this ground last time. Seungmin isn’t clumsy on his feet, only in his head, and only sometimes. He reaches back for you and wiggles his fingers. “Okay, okay. Brace yourself.”

“For what?” He grunts when you put all of your weight on his back, but he still stands without a problem. “You should be heavier than this by now, right?”

“I’ve gained eight pounds since I moved in with you”

“Do you gain less with girls, and more with boys?”

“I’m not sure, remind me to google it”

“That seems like a silly question when I say it out loud”

“It’s not. Is that what we’re having?”

“Hm?”

Maybe it was a slip-up, or maybe he’s dying to finally tell you. “Girls? Is that what we’re having?”

“I thought you didn’t wanna know”

Part of you does, especially now that you’ve started working on the nursery—just another step toward it becoming your new reality. “Do you think the tech was right about it?”

“She seemed confident, and she’s been looking at ultrasound babies for a long time.” Seungmin kneels again, and you put your feet down on the concrete walkway outside the greenhouse.

“Have you been thinking about names?”

His little smile answers for you, even though he shakes his head. “Not much…not really.”

Warm air and the heady scent of a dozen different flowers hits you when the door swings open. Your eyes water from it, but you blink it away as he grabs your hand and pulls you in with him.

“Tell me one you like”

“A name I like…hm, there is one, but it might be too…me”

“That doesn’t sound like a bad thing”

“Ha-neul”

“Haneul…it sounds nice when you say it. What does it mean?”

“Sky”

“Oh, that’s perfect. I like it, too.”

He stares at the flowers, and his grip on your fingers tightens. “I can’t think of another name to compliment it, though. So I’m not sure.”

“Maybe it’s too early for this part”

Seungmin pulls you with him toward the purple flowers, and when you’re close enough to be filled with their scent and only their scent, he lowers himself and kneels in the much dryer soil. When you don’t immediately follow, he squeezes and tugs a little harder. It still feels like an intrusion into his most personal moments, but he wants you here, so you lower yourself next to him and hold tight to his arm.

Being here now is different—she’s there, right below you, beneath the purple bushes whose roots certainly reach as deeply as she’s buried. Seungmin’s mother exists in the flowers in a way you never thought possible, and that’s why he keeps them close. This is you finally meeting her, you think.

“Umma?”

He waits, and you’re perfectly still and quiet as the moments pass. And then a few more moments. It’s getting late, so you begin to hear the growing sound of insects crying in their hiding spots, but nothing else. Eventually, too much time and silence passes, so you squeeze his hand and look at him. “Seungmin?” You can see the stain of a tear on his cheek. He’s biting down hard on his lip to keep some composure, but it isn’t working very well. “What is it?”

“She’s not answering”

“Try again…say something else”

He nods and takes a deep breath. “Umma, nae mal deullyeoyo? Please say something.” The sound of his shaking voice hurts. You know there’s still no reply, even before he releases you and spreads his palms out over the ground—what you don’t know is if this is the first time she’s been silent, and it’s not a good time to ask. If it is, you can only assume it’s because of his Haldol. Seungmin hasn’t missed a dose in over a month. It’s taken hold, and the sound of his mother’s voice is no longer there. This might not be the best side effect. “Where did you go?” He leans forward until his forehead touches the cold ground, and your hand slides beneath his shirt at the same time. It’s warm, and it’s soft, and as much as he wants to scream, your touch helps keep him calm. A slow, deep breath, and his lungs fill with the scent of earth and heliotrope. She’s still here, he thinks. “I know you’re still here.”

Your hand slides across his back until he rises again, but he’s dizzy, and a sour, nauseous feeling starts to rise in his stomach and throat. He turns and crawls away just in time. Seungmin vomits, coughs, vomits again…or tries to. Nothing comes up, but his body keeps telling him to try.

“She is, Min. Just like last time, and the time before that.”

He isn’t sure what you’re saying, but he hears your voice despite the muffled ringing in his ears. It helps. Seungmin isn’t sure he could handle the silence alone. “I’m sorry.” A fistful of dirt comes with him as he stands, and he tosses it aimlessly towards the mess. “You heard it in the woods, right? That sound.”

“The rumble?”

“Yeah…the rumble”

“What was it?”

“Something umma told me was just in my head”

If it’s in yours, too, that still doesn’t mean it’s real. Seungmin is giving you more than just his dreams.

“Maybe she’ll talk to you”

“Me? No. Why would she talk to me?”

Seungmin shrugs, but he has his reasons. “Just hoping, I guess.” He wonders if your strange connection exists in this way, even if he can no longer hear her. You’re seeing things, and you’re dreaming like him…so maybe he hasn’t completely lost his connection to his mother.

You turn away and carefully lower yourself to the ground, but you’re not prepared for this—you have enough trouble talking to tangible people in front of you. Nothing happens right away. Just the sound of the bugs, and the wind picking up and pushing against the glass panels. The sun is finally setting behind the trees, and the orange glow coming in looks like fire. “Susie, are you there? Your son wants to speak to you.” All you can hear is the sound of Seungmin sniffling and pacing behind you. “I would like to talk to you, too” The wind pushes harder against the greenhouse, and the lonely wind chime catches it and starts to sing. It slows down, and you look away for a moment to watch the tops of the trees stop swaying in the distance. “Is that you?”

“Did she…?” Seungmin asks, but a moment later, another gust hits, and a glass panel cracks from the pressure. “Oh no.” He heads for it to inspect the damage, leaving you alone with the flowers as you try with everything you have to hear something. “It might be okay,” he says, mostly to himself as his finger runs over the superficial crack. The greenhouse has survived the elements for a very long time, and one little crack is not going to bring it down.

“She loves you very much”

His arm slides around your waist, and his hand spreads out across your stomach. There’s nothing there to see yet, even with twins—but you’re much softer where his fingers knead and squeeze. “You heard her?”

Did you? You don’t remember hearing anything except the wind—no voice in your ear, or in your head, just the overwhelming desire to tell him. “I’m not sure, but…she does, Minnie. She loves you, all of you, the good and the bad.”

“I was excited to tell her about the twins”

It hadn’t occurred to you that part of this trip was to tell her the big news…that he’s going to be a father. During the first trip here, he was quietly joyous about simply not being alone, and that also just occurred to you—he was still brand new to you. His happiness is still so lost in him sometimes, buried under too much grief and damage. “Tell her...” You grab and pull him so he’s kneeling next to you, but you’re not sure if he’ll actually try to speak again. If he thinks it, that’ll be good enough.

Umma? I’m sorry I can’t hear you.

He waits again, just in case there’s an answer this time.

I’m going to be a father. Well, I guess I already am, but…they might be born in September, just like me. We’re having—oh, I can’t say it out loud. It’s still a secret.

“No, you can tell us. I’m ready.”

“Are you sure?” Seungmin whispers, and he smiles when you nod at him. You weren’t sure you’d get another one out of him for a while.

We’re having boys…identical boys, umma. I’ll be the father dad didn’t get the chance to be. I’ll make you both proud.

The hanok, for as long as it’s been sitting here uninhabited (“fifteen years,” Seungmin tells you, “it was like everyone but me just forgot it existed.”), is still in surprisingly good shape. The outside is somewhat neglected, but it’s solid, and the inside…you weren’t expecting to see the inside, but Seungmin had the key in his never-ending collection of keys...the inside is nice, but dusty and a little damp, and it almost looks like someone still lives here. There are clean dishes sitting on the counter, like they were almost put away in the cupboard above them. The faded curtain is pulled open just enough to see down the pathway that leads to the greenhouse, and…two pairs of shoes sit neatly by the door you walked through. A pair of sneakers, and next to them, a pair of rain boots.

“Seungmin, are those…were those yours?”

He looks to the spot you’re staring at, and nods. “Yes, they were mine.”

“Can I see your bedroom?”

The afternoon sun is pouring in through his window, and even with the curtains closed, it filters in and casts a warm glow over everything. His yo, rolled up and covered; a desk still holding a stack of books; the bookshelf, and a chest you can only imagine is full of whatever this little boy liked to play with. Now you’re hit with another realization, even though you knew…he really was just a baby when this nightmare happened to him. Seungmin sat at this desk and practiced his spelling and multiplying, and in the same breath, he had to kill his stepfather to save his own life.

“I saw this in one of my dreams”

“What did you see?”

“In the park, when I first told you I was dreaming about you…one of them was this, I think. Your window, the bedroom.” Seungmin passes by and pulls at the curtains, and the light is almost too bright as your eyes adjust. “We were laying in your bed, and the sun was bright just like this, but it must have been summer. There were flowers outside, yellow and purple flowers. That was a nice dream. You kissed me before I woke up.”

“I did?” He leans in quickly and places a kiss on your lips, “like that?” He tries again when you shake your head, this time right between your eyes. “There?”

“Nope, try again”

“Hm, how about…” a soft one against your temple, but he huffs when you shake your head again. “Where does dream you want a kiss?” His eyes scan every part of you as he thinks, and eventually, he grins and goes for your neck.

“Up a little…perfect.” In your head, you’re doing your best to remember every detail of that dream, but you can’t. It’s long gone. “What was that? Thunder?”

The sun is still shining, but on closer inspection he can see the dark clouds in the distance, slowly moving above the trees. “I think so.” Seungmin forgot how oppressive the view is from here…the darkness of the forest in front of him, even in the daylight, makes him uncomfortable. “I’ll check the heat, and the water. We can spend the night if…” the rain starts almost immediately. “If that’s okay.”

“Here? I don’t mind, but only if you’re comfortable staying.”

“Yeah, it’s fine. Actually, since I met you, up until now has been the longest I’ve gone without visiting, or cleaning up. It’s hard, and as many bad memories as this place holds…it’s still all I have of her.”

“Then yeah, let’s make ourselves comfortable here and get a good nights sleep.”

Once the heat is on and moving through the floors, the house comes back to life in a whole new way—it’s warm, and it’s cozy. This, plus the few good memories…it’s easy to see why he hasn’t completely abandoned the house. Seungmin begins to hum as he walks around lighting candles, and once he’s satisfied with his placement, he turns the lights low and joins you on the doubled up mattress in the middle of the floor. “Did you have enough to eat?”

“Mhm”

“Do you need more water?”

“No, I’m good. I’m comfortable.”

He touches your neck and pulls you close for a kiss. “Warm enough?”

More of the dream comes rushing back to you. “Perfect. I’m with you, I couldn’t be better.”

“Yeah…so you still like me?”

The face you make sends him into a fit of quiet laughter, and it might be the biggest smile you’ve seen him crack since he saw the twins two weeks ago. Seungmin’s never given you a good full-body laugh. It’s a beautiful sound, and an unusual one, because it’s so new to you. You can help but laugh with him. “Yeah, I think I still like you.”

“Good. If I think too much about us only knowing each other for four months, I start to wonder—“

“Don’t wonder”

“Don’t?”

“Trust me when I say I’ve found the one. So…boys?”

He smiles just as wide again, and the sparkle in his eyes tells you everything he wants to say. “Boys.” He nods and whispers. “I hope it makes it more real for you, and you’ll be happy with so many boys running around.”

“It does, and I am. I can’t wait for you to meet them.”

It’s too warm eventually, and when you start to kick off the fluffy blanket, you know something is missing. Your leg slides across the mattress, and your blurry eyes pop open to his empty pillow. “Minnie?” You sit up and realize just how warm the house is—you rub a hand across your chest and wipe away the sweat starting to gather there. Maybe he got up to turn the heat down, or crack a window. “Seungmin?” You know you’ll have to get up at some point, so you just get it over with now. Maybe he’s in the bathroom. Why is your heart starting to race? Nothing is happening, nothing is wrong, so stop panicking. Your feet hit the floor, and the panic gets a little bit worse. Nausea works its way through you.

The bathroom is empty, and his bedroom is, too. The only other bedroom, his mother’s, is also empty, but you weren’t expecting him to be in there. There’s nowhere else except outside, and it’s still raining. The car is there, you can see it from the kitchen window, and when you finally head for the door, you can see it hasn’t been pulled shut far enough to lock. He is outside. You open the door and look out into the dark fog. Why would he come out at this hour?

“Seungmin! Dammit, you better answer me!”

Just the patter of rain on the roof and the windows. Nothing else. You almost go for your shoes, but putting them on seems pointless. All you’ll do is ruin them, and walking around in wet, muddy shoes as you search for him sounds much less appealing than doing it in your bare feet. The first step onto the grass is unpleasant, but after a few more, it’s fine, and you walk as quickly as you can toward the greenhouse.

hey

“Minnie…Min, was that you?”

You heard it, even through the rain, but he’s not in there. Seungmin is definitely not in there, and you don’t want to get any closer than absolutely necessary. The shed looks even worse than it did last time, and just opening the door feels like it could be disastrous. A few loose nails and pieces of rotting wood in the right spots; the whole thing comes crashing down around you. But maybe that would bring Seungmin out from wherever he’s hiding. “You in there, Min?” You whisper and close the gap, reach for the chain, and pull. “Why would you be?” It creaks so painfully loud, and the inside is dark and empty, just like you expected. “Greenhouse…greenhouse.” The door slams shut as you try not to break out into a run, and every hair on your body stands up.

The greenhouse is a welcome reprieve. It’s warm inside, but just like the shed, it appears to be empty. “Fuck…Seungmin! Where are you?” You’re wet, and starting to shiver, and the mud has covered you up to your ankles already. “You’re gonna be mad at me for coming out here…but, but…”

Sweetie

You spin around, looking for whoever is clearly speaking to you. “Who’s there? Seungmin why are you doing this?”

my little boy isn’t here

“Susie?”

he doesn’t know what he does when he comes here, and he’s doing it again…my poor sweet puppy

“Where is he? Where did he go?”

the forest

“He went into the woods?” The nausea worsens when you think about him lying in a clearing somewhere, lost in the dark. “Why would he do that?”

There’s no more voice. Susie goes quiet. “Okay, I have to find him.”

How, you have no idea, but before you even attempt to walk further than the greenhouse, you run back to the house and throw open every closet. Most of them are still full of their things, so finding a raincoat is easy, and finding his mother’s rain boots is a relief after the mess you made all the way up to your knees. You clean up before slipping into them, and they fit well enough. The raincoat is a little small, but not enough to keep you from wearing it. The only light you can find is an oil lamp under the kitchen sink, not a single flashlight in any drawer…and your phone certainly won’t do any good. But it works—the oil is good, and there’s plenty of wick soaking in it, so it lights easily. “This might be my only luck tonight." The rain slows a little, and half of the sky clears up enough to see the moon and stars. It’s enough to orient yourself before they disappear again behind the trees, and a quick look at the compass on your phone is the last thing you do before silence falls around you. The trees hold up the rain, and the dense fog seems to take in everything else.

“Minnie!” Your voice falls flat—no echo. A twist of the knob raises the wick just a little, and the light intensifies.

For a while, you count your steps. Walking in a straight line is impossible, but you follow what looks like a trail the best you can, because you don’t want to think about getting lost in here without him. At one hundred steps, you stop and call for him again.

Fifty more, you call again. Everything is still eerily quiet, and if anything was walking around near you (“fuck, don’t think about that…don’t”), you’d know it. Twigs would snap, and the muddy forest floor would give almost anything away.

Fifty more steps. You set the lamp down and cup your hands around your mouth, and this time an echo moves through the trees. The rumble answers back. “No…not you.” What the hell was that? “Seungmin…please.” You force yourself further in; twenty…thirty…forty steps, and then you stop and rest on a stump. These woods are so much like the ones you walked through when you were a kid—thick, and dark, and quiet. But Mothman never got you, and whatever is living in this forest won’t get you, either. You hope. A sudden fear moves through you, though, and calling for Seungmin again seems like an invitation for something else.

I’ll just look for a while…no calling

Whatever lives here would be much deeper anyway…right? I’ve barely walked a quarter of a mile in

but I’ve been screaming for the last fifteen minutes, and if Seungmin’s in here…why IS he in here? Is he looking for something? Is he sleepwalking? No, he’s never done that before

What if this place is more than haunted, and you’re slowly slipping into some other place? What if there’s no going back after this? You’re pushed back in time again, to the dirty living room carpet and your bare feet sinking in. Dad is right behind you in his armchair, sound asleep, so you managed to swipe the tv remote from him.

You're moving into a land of both shadow and substance, of things and ideas…

“There’s a signpost up a head…” you whisper to yourself in a strange attempt to self-soothe. "Your next stop—" You had a nightmare after watching that episode, and you remember it well. “God, maybe I've been dead this whole time.” The warmth of the medallion on your neck is suddenly very apparent, and you rub St. Michael between your fingers.

who are you?

“No, I’m not hearing anything else. Shut the fuck up.”

we don’t recognize you

“Seungmin!” You’re up and walking as fast as you can on the uneven ground, but the mud and heavy lamp are weighing you down. And then you see him. Or you see something. It moves across the trees in the shadow of your light. If it is him, he would have heard you and answered. “Hello?” Your voice shakes.

hello?

“Who’s there?”

He appears from behind a tree, and stares at you, silent.

“Seungmin…oh my god.” He doesn’t move when you run to him, and when you drop the lamp and throw your arms around him, he’s warm and still. “Minnie, baby, are you okay?” No answer, but his arms wrap around your shoulders and pull you close. “What are you doing out here? I was so scared.”

“Don’t be scared”

“Can we please go back?”

“Back?”

It takes some effort to free yourself, but you pull away and look at him. The lamplight is casting a strange shadow on his face, and now you’re back in your nightmare at the Jasmine Hotel. “Am I dreaming. Are we having a nightmare?”

“No, I’m awake”

“Can we go back?”

He takes your hand when you hold it out for him, and then he leads the way.

Seungmin is covered in mud. He’s drenched, and pale from the cold rain, but he doesn’t seem to be shivering the way that you are. His hand is warm, like he just woke up from a good sleep, and when he turns his head to look at you, he smiles.

“Why did you—“

“You must be cold, Tokki. I’ll run you a warm bath when we get back, and make you some tea.”

The walk back is quick, and he finds his way out easily. The rain passed while you searched for him, and now the sky is clear, so the light of the moon guides you the rest of the way.

Seungmin is quiet in the kitchen, but you can hear him filling the kettle and lighting the stove, the clink of mugs, and his soft voice as he starts to sing. You wash up quickly, drain the muddy bath water and start to refill it as his voice gets closer and closer.

“You’re supposed to be relaxing in there,” he says it with a lighthearted sternness.

“I feel better. It’s your turn.”

He doesn’t fight you. Seungmin hands you your tea and starts to pull off his damp clothes. You want to question him again, but you’re not sure when to do it—after he gets comfortable in the tub, or when you get him back into bed? He might fall right to sleep once his head hits the pillow.

“What kind of tea?”

His shirt is tossed and hits the floor with a wet thud, followed by his sweatpants, and then his boxers. “Raspberry leaf, with a little bit of sugar. I know it can be a ittle bitter."

So he's in there; he remembered the tea he brought, and he remembered that you coudn't stomach it without some sugar. “Did you do that to yourself?” Two long scratches along his collarbone stick out against his pale skin. Another three run across his shoulder blades.

“You don’t have to stay with me. Get back into bed and get warm.” He lowers himself into the hot water, and lets himself sink in up to his chin.

“No…we need to talk, Seungmin”

“What do we need to talk about?”

He looks at you, and there’s nothing about him that seems defiant. The memory of what just happened might already be fading away. “Min, do you remember waking up and leaving the house? I woke up and you were gone, and I couldn’t find you anywhere. I was scared.”

“I’m sorry, sweetie, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Sweetie. It was his mother that told you where he went. “What were you doing?”

He shakes his head, “I’m not sure.”

“You’ve done it before.”

“I have? How do you know?”

Pushing him for answers won’t help, because now you’re remembering the whispers in the greenhouse. He doesn’t know what he does when he comes here, and he’s doing it again…my poor sweet puppy. His mother spoke to you very clearly. Seungmin wanders into the woods every time he spends the night here, and he doesn’t remember doing it. He enters a dissociative fugue, and it’s continuing even with the medication. “Have you been taking your Haldol?”

“I have, I promise”

You know he has, because you’re usually with him when he does. And because her voice are gone. “I don’t know why I asked that, I know you are.”

“You shouldn’t have been out there in the rain. You could’ve gotten hurt, or lost. It’s my job to take care of you, and I failed.” Tears start to well in his eyes, and you don’t think you can stand to see him cry right now.

“But I’m okay, and you’re okay. We’re gonna get back into bed and sleep all morning, and then we’re going home.”

“Home?”

“Home”

/ / /

Another heavy storm passes through, and it keeps you up for a little while longer, but when you wake around noon, Seungmin is fast asleep next to you. Whatever he did when he disappeared into the woods exhausted him, because he never sleeps in this late. Maybe it’s this place, though, and not just his strange wandering. You need to know what happened in there, and what was going on in his head, but you don’t expect him to remember much.

“Mmm…morning,” he mumbles when you pull the blanket over his bare shoulder. The heat turned itself off while you slept, but you’re too cold to get up and fix it. Seungmin shivers a little, and you know it’s because he was too tired to find something to wear after his bath. “Cold.”

“I know, it’s cold in here…c’mere. "He moves closer and lets you wrap yourself around him. “How are you feeling?”

Seungmin groans and sighs.

“You can sleep more if you need to, or I’ll make some coffee”

“No, I’m up”

“Okay…do you remember last night, Min?”

Seungmin nods, but you have your doubts. Before the two of you even got into bed the first time, you talked. As a matter of fact, you and Seungmin talked more than usual. Not hearing his mother’s voice bothered him more than he lead you to believe at the time, and you think he may have been considering stopping his medication. He didn’t say that, but you could feel it.

“I remember, yeah. We had dinner, and we talked…we talked about names more.”

That part of the baby name conversation actually slipped your mind, but you remember now.

“Ha-neul,” he says again, because it’s still on his list. “And…”

“And something with Hwa or Hae, yeah?”

“Hae? Ha-neul and Hae…sung?”

The unexpected third part of the conversation might be the last one concerning names, at least for a while, because the way he’s looking at you is a very loud please, say yes to these. It almost makes you want to drop the questioning and return to it later.

“We’ll put those in the yes column”

But you can’t.

“Good. We can still think about it, but they do sound nice together.”

Seungmin seems happy; genuinely happy, despite how strange yesterday really was, and you hate having to ruin it. “You woke up last night…early this morning, I guess. Very early.”

“I did?”

“Yes. I woke up around two and you weren’t in bed. You weren’t anywhere in the house, or the greenhouse. Seungmin, I couldn’t find you…anywhere.”

He looks at you like you’re joking, but his face falls when he realizes you’re being very serious. “I don’t understand.” He sits up and looks down at himself, seems to realize he’s naked under the blankets, and wraps them tight around himself. “Was I sleepwalking?”

“I’m not sure, but I guess it’s possible”

“I don’t think I’ve ever done that before”

He doesn’t know what he does when he comes here, and he’s doing it again…my poor sweet puppy

“How often did you spend the night here? Before me.”

“Maybe… maybe once every month or two. Where was I?”

There is no memory of anything behind his eyes. They soften as they search yours for the answer you’re trying to give to him, and you can see the puppy coming out. “In the woods. I found you about a quarter of a mile in, soaking wet, covered in mud.”

“No, why would I do that? I don’t like going in there when it’s daytime, and last night was…”

"I know"

“Why would I do that?” He says it again, more to himself this time. “Why?” Seungmin rocks a little and takes a deep breath. “Are you sure it wasn’t a dream?”

Without another word, you rise from the bed and head for the bathroom.

“Where are you going?”

You understand his hesitancy in believing you, or believing it wasn’t just another strange dream. The whole thing being a nightmare isn’t far fetched at all, for either of you, but his muddy clothes are still on the bathroom floor. You hear him following closely behind.

“You took a bath, and we talked a little.” You show him in the clothes, and he examines them silently. “You didn’t remember anything last night, either. But you seemed fine…you made me tea, and…take that off, look at your neck.”

He pulls it down and examines himself in the mirror. “Did I do that in my sleep?”

“And your back”

The blanket drops to the floor. His scratches aren’t as red and angry as they were a few hours ago, but they broke open and bled a little in his sleep. “Looks like claw marks”

“Claw marks, from what?” From whatever made him go there in the first place. “I think you backed into a tree, Minnie…that’s all you were wearing out there.” You nod to his pile of clothes, and then occurs to you to check his t-shirt. The back of it is dirty, but that’s all—no rips, no blood. “Maybe.”

/ / /

The rain clouds are returning again, and the overcast sky is making your bad mood so much worse. You weren’t expecting the trip to go well, but this was beyond anything you could have imagined. Now you can’t help but stare off into the woods as Seungmin starts the ritual of collecting his heliotrope.

“Are you still here?” You whisper. Part of you is wondering if some of last night was a dream, or a hallucination, because the voices you heard are beginning to come back to you. All of them. “Please say something to him.” When you turn, he’s holding his arms tight against his chest, head down, as if he’s protecting himself from something. “What’s the matter, Min?”

“Nothing”

At any moment, he could break—that’s what he looks like standing there…like the last leaf preparing to fall off the tree, or a glass of water halfway off the edge of a table. One little gust of wind could topple him. So why are you hesitating to go to him? “Do you need help with anything?” You take a few slow steps toward him, but he turns away ever so slightly.

“N-no, no. I’m fine.” He bends and picks up the shears at his feet. “I’m okay.”

You catch his gaze for just a moment. His face is pale and tired, and you wish he would have slept longer. You almost want to stay another night, just not here, so he doesn’t have to drive. “Seungmin, talk to—“ You grab his elbow and make him look at you. “…me.”

“I’m sorry”

All you see is red, and you can smell it on him. “What did you do? Let me see.” The blood is coming from somewhere on his arm, but you can’t tell where. All you know is that it’s all over him, soaking the front of his shirt, starting to drip from his elbow.

“I cut too deep”

That explains his lifeless face. Everything around you is covered in dirt, so you reach into his back pocket. The embroidered handkerchief is there, like it always is. “Why’d you hurt yourself, love?” He’s had enough trauma for one trip.

“I didn’t mean to…make such a mess...ah," he winces when you push it down against the cut.

The thought of him running those shears along his skin makes you tense up. Whether he meant to cut or not, something in him wanted to put the blade on his arm in the first place. “It’s okay, baby, I’ll take care of it.” You hold as tightly as you can. "But we need to get back to the house.”

It’s start to rain again, of course, and some of the blood washes away with it, but it hasn’t stopped by the time you get to the kitchen and examine it again. Blood pools in the cleanly cut skin and slowly drips down his forearm. Seungmin watches intently, and very calmly. “I think it slowed down,” he whispers.

“Not enough. You need stitched up.”

“I’m sorry I did that in front of you.”

“In this case, I’m glad you did it in front of me so I can’t at least take care of it. Is there a first aid kit somewhere in the house?”

“Uhm, yes, I think it’s still in that top drawer,” he nods toward the kitchen sink. “But it’s old.”

Better than nothing. You wrap him back up with a clean towel, rifle through a drawer you remember from last night, and you find it all the way in the back. It’s full of the most basic things, but it’ll do for now. You clean it…Seungmin holds in a cry and stomps his feet for that, and tears run freely down his cheeks after the burning finally stops. Two rolls of gauze later, and you wonder how long the blood will take to soak through completely. “I should take you to an emergency room before we go home.”

“I don’t want to do that”

“So we’ll go after we get home. It’s one or the other, Seungmin, because you need stitches.”

“Fine, we’ll get it over with here”

Seungmin’s mood starts to match yours, but his injury pulled you up a little—concern quickly replaced the confusion and anger, but now he’s confused and angry. You know it was intentional, but you decide to believe he didn’t mean to cut as deeply as he did, and by the time you get to a hospital, the gauze is already turning pink.

“Thank you for driving”

“Thank you for navigating”

“You did very well. I remember being here once, when I was…five or six.” He looks around the waiting room, and everything is so old, you assume it looked the same twenty years ago. “I broke a finger.” Seungmin holds up the ring finger on his right hand.

“Yeah, it looks a little crooked. Never noticed that before.”

“Kim...Kim Seungmin?”

A tall man holding a clipboard stands in the open doorway, and he looks directly at him in the crowded room. “You can follow me…both of you, if you’d like.”

Seungmin stands, hand still gripping yours. “Oh, he said you can come.”

The hallway leading to the partitioned rooms is just as aged. The colors are drab and depressing, and the smell of disinfectant almost chokes you.

“Have a seat, and I’ll take a look at this”

“Are you the doctor?” Seungmin asks, and he looks around nervously, but the man shakes his head. “Do you speak English?”

“No, I’m a nurse. And yes, I can speak English…why? Oh…” he looks at you and smiles awkwardly. And he switches easily from Korean to English. “I’m sorry, you don’t speak Korean?”

You shake your head and try not to feel like a burden.

Seungmin stretches his arm out as the nurse pulls his gloves on and slowly unwraps the bandage. “I just like her to know what’s going on.”

“Of course. Does this hurt?” He sees Seungmin wince as he gets closer to the wound. “I guess so. May I ask what happened?”

“Gardening accident. Very sharp tools.”

One last loop, and the bloody bandage is finally off of him. “Working in the greenhouse?” The cut still oozes blood, but much slower than before.

“Huh?”

“You don’t recognize me, do you?”

Seungmin looks at you, as if you have the answer for him, and then back to the nurse. “I thought you looked liked him, but it seemed impossible. You came back, Heecheol?”

The nurse nods, and his smile grows because his friend recognizes him. “You haven’t changed at all, Seungmin. Same face, same sad puppy eyes.”

You have to smile at that. Seungmin was a puppy to the people around him—at least the ones he cared about, and who cared for him in return. Before speaking again, Heecheol examines the cut with gentle hands, and then excuses himself for a moment to get a suture kit.

“You’re stitching it?”

“Yes. Unless you prefer a doctor, but they usually ask me to do them anyway.”

“When did you move back to Uljin?”

He re-gloves and opens the package before cleaning from Seungmin’s elbow to the middle of his forearm. “About a year ago. Living in the states was fine, but I think I needed a change.”

“Where did you live?” You chime in, and he gives you the same warm smile.

“Greensboro, and then Charlotte for a while”

“I can hear some accent in your English”

“I can hear yours, too…I’m guessing you weren’t far from there”

You nod and smile.

“Do you two live here in Uljin? Are you married? Oh, uhm, I’m just assuming you’re a couple. Sorry.” He focuses again, grabs the syringe full of lidocaine, and holds tight to Seungmin’s forearm. “This will pinch for a moment, but…after that it’ll feel much better.”

Seungmin nods and watches the needle slide in and out at each corner of his cut. The pinch doesn’t seem to bother him. “It’s fine. Not married, and we were just visiting. We live in Seoul.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt, Min. Is…Heecheol,” you have trouble with this pronunciation, but he doesn’t seem to mind, “is he the friend you told me about? The color one?”

“Yes, this is him”

“The color one?”

“What’s your favorite color?” Seungmin says, and he actually smiles. He’s smiling at him the way he does for you when he’s feeling good. “Is yours still green?”

“You remember that?”

“I remember everything. Good and bad.”

“Right, I’m so sorry about your mother, Seungmin. I didn’t even know you lost her until my mom told me last year. She moved back here after my dad died, and now I’m taking care of her. She doesn’t have much time left…”

“She's sick?”

Heecheol nods solemnly as he checks the feeling of Seungmin’s arm. “Yes, end stage heart failure.”

“I’m sorry, Cheoli”

“I’ve had time to prepare and come to terms with it, which a lot of people don’t get. I am grateful for that.”

“Do you think she would still remember me?”

“My mom loved you, and she hated pulling us apart. She would, and she would love seeing you again—I’m sorry, I’ll be right back. I need different sutures.”

Seungmin turns to you when he disappears behind the curtain, and he looks like he’s ready to burst. His eyes are wide and watery, and his cheeks are starting to turn pink.

“What are the odds we’d run into him?” You run your thumb over the scar beneath his eye and wait for a tear to fall, but nothing comes. "Even in a small town?"

“It’s strange. Today has been very strange.”

After a few moments of silence, he returns, and he looks at both of you as if he’s figuring out how the two of you found each other. And how the two of you found him. “All ready, sorry.”

“It’s okay, we’re in no rush”

His mood has changed significantly, and now he has a very big reason to stick around a little longer. This place is not good for him, but you think his friend might be enough to outweigh the bad. The three of you are silent as he very carefully closes the wound, and he’s good at it. Heecheol is focused on his task, but every few seconds, his eyes move up to look at Seungmin—they look him over as if he could disappear at any moment and he doesn’t want to forget a single detail. Just as he’s finishing up, he does it again, and this time, Seungmin looks as well.

“I know you’re numb, but does it feel okay? Any pulling?”

“No, it’s good. It’s perfect.”

“I’m going to put a second skin bandage on it, over some gauze, and you won’t even have to think about it. Just go easy for a few days…no sliders…no fastballs.”

“I haven’t thrown a baseball in ten years”

It feels like you’re intruding. You don’t need to be here listening to them remember the past, even though you want to know more about the good parts of his childhood.

“How long will you be in town?”

“Well, we planned on heading home after I got stitched up”

There’s some hesitancy in his voice, and you know Seungmin is changing his mind about going home so quickly. You have no intention of pulling them apart again because the string between them is already reconnecting. It's obvious that the same force that ties you to him ties the two of them together as well.

“Maybe I’ll catch you next time,” he says, and as much as he tries to sound like he’s fine with it, he doesn’t.

“We can stay a little longer…if that’s okay with you”

Seungmin looks at you with his big wet eyes, as if you would ever say no to him. “Of course we can."

“Shift change is in…” Heecheol looks at his watch, “an hour. If you don’t mind waiting for me.”

/ / /

The weather finally changes. The rain stops, and the sun comes out, so Seungmin paces just outside the entrance to the hospital as you wait for him to speak. There’s a smile twitching on his lips, and you assume he’s thinking about his friend, and their past.

“How old were you when he moved?”

He stops and takes a seat next to you on the bench, and you’re relieved when he grabs your hand and squeezes. This was the first time since being with him that something truly got his attention more than you, and you have to admit that you’re a little jealous.

“I was eight…it was the summer before everything happened. We never even had the chance to say goodbye to each other.”

“I’m glad you found him again”

The doors slide open, and Heecheol walks out, freshly showered and out of his scrubs. He’s handsome; a sharp, fox-like face, and a sweet smile. The bounce in his step might not have been there a few hours ago, but it's there now, and it adds to his natural charm.

“Thank you for being so patient with me”

He makes sure to look at both of you as he speaks, but his eyes return to Seungmin and stay there. Had this one stopped and talked to you on the street, he would have caught you, too.

“Of course. Should we pay your mother a visit? Is she expecting us?”

“I called her and let her know. You’ve already made her day.”

Seungmin is nervous, and his legs are heavy as he walks up to the second floor. Memories are flooding back to him—racing up the four flights of stairs, and always losing because Heecheol’s longer legs carried him further. He has the stamina, but was never very fast. Luckily his arm was made for pitching. Was. Now, for the first time since he was fourteen, he’s wondering if he can still do it.

“She doesn’t get out much since the building has no elevator…just on good days.”

Good days that are few and far between, Seungmin guesses. Her heart won’t pump her blood the way it should anymore, and she’s slowly suffocating because of it.

“But we have a nice view of the water, and spring is coming early”

The front door clicks and creaks as he pushes it open, and the inside looks almost the same as he remembers it. After fifteen years and a move across the world, Seungmin expected some change, but he’s relieved that there’s so little.

“Umma, we’re here,” he calls out softly, and then looks to Seungmin. “Do you want some tea, or coffee?”

“No, I’m okay”

He heads for the kitchen anyway, and whatever he’s doing seems like routine. Electric kettle filled and on, mug from the cupboard, loose leaf tea scooped into a silk bag.

“Look at you, you’ve gotten so tall”

Her weak voice floats to him, and more memories unlock. “Eomoni!” It feels like no time has passed—he feels like a kid again, and he feels safe. Everything was good when he was here with Cheoli and his parents. There was no stepfather around, watching every movement, and judging every word.

“Seungmin-ah, you’ve grown into such a handsome young man.” She takes a few more steps toward the kitchen, but decides to take a seat on the couch instead. Seungmin can hear her labored breathing.

“Umma, where is your oxygen?”

“It’s giving me a headache”

Heecheol disappears into the bedroom, and he returns with a small pack slung over his shoulder, and a nasal cannula in hand. “You should have told me this was almost empty.”

“I have plenty, now you…come over here so I can see you better.” Everything about her, from her voice, to her face, to her informal mannerisms, is the same. She’s older than Seungmin’s mother would be now, but not by much. It’s the illness that’s aged her. “Yes, come sit with me.” His hand is squeezed between hers, and they’re cold against his warm skin. “Cheoli missed you so much, did he tell you that?”

“Umma…”

“What?” She turns, and Heecheol adjusts the cannula to her nose. “He tried finding you when he moved back last year, but he had no luck. And here you are!”

“I wasn’t sure if you had moved or not, but when I found out about���what happened, I figured you moved away.” Heecheol says.

“I live in Seoul, eomeonim. I’ve been there for five years”

“In Seoul? All by yourself?”

“With his girlfriend, umma”

“A girlfriend?” She says it as if it’s a shock, and her hands squeeze even tighter.

“Umma! Please…”

“Hush. How long have you two been together?”

Saying it is going to sound silly, especially considering the seriousness of everything between you. “Four months.”

“Four months?” Heecheol stops what he’s doing to look at Seungmin.

“Yes. It feels like we’ve known each other much longer, though.”

He nods, “that’s good…I’m glad you found someone, Min.

“Do you…?” He shakes his head before Seungmin finishes asking the question. His friend is handsome, but Heecheol has always been very particular about things, and even more introverted than him. He probably hasn’t changed much. “It’s a strange feeling to have someone when you’ve been alone for so long.”

“Yeah, I’m sure”

“What do you do in Seoul?” His mother interrupts, changes the subject. “For work?”

“I own the apartment building my father…my real father, left to me. So I guess…not much.”

“But you do well for yourself”

“I do, I’m very lucky in that sense”

Heecheol heads back to the kitchen to finish the tea he started, and Seungmin sits quietly, his hand still squeezed between hers.

“Soo-ji would be proud to see what a kind young man you’ve grown into”

“I’m not sure about that. I haven’t done—“

“You had to grow up without her. You made it through difficult times and you’re here, and you’re making someone else very happy, I assume. She would be very proud.”

Seungmin thinks about you sitting outside in the car, probably sound asleep, and he smiles. You weren’t very happy with his actions today, but he knows you are happy.

“You’re making us happy right now, Seungmin—Cheoli and I…Seungmin?”

“Yes, are you okay?”

Her voice falls to a whisper. “He needs you. As much as he tries to smile, and work hard, and care for his dying mother…he’s struggling. He’s alone, and I can only do so much for him. There has to be a bigger reason for you walking into that hospital and finding him there.”

No part of Seungmin wants to abandon his friend, but he has a hard time envisioning himself as someone else’s divine providence. Even with you.

“He wasn’t even supposed to be at work today. Cheoli was just covering for another nurse.”

“Here, umma…be careful, it’s hot.” Heecheol places it on the table in front of her, and then his eyes turn to Seungmin. “Are you sure you don’t want anything?”

“I’m sure”

“Oh, I guess we should get going. We’re going for dinner, and I’ll bring you something good back, okay?”

“Yes, good…don’t rush. You two have a lot of catching up to do.”

Heecheol is quiet on the way back to the car, but Seungmin can’t help but see the loneliness in his face now, and in his posture. “How have you been? He stops. They both do, and they face one another at the bottom of the staircase. “Are you alright?”

“Am I alright? Yeah, yeah I’m okay. I can’t really complain.”

“You can if you want, you can complain to me”

“No complaints right now,” he smiles.

/ / /

Seungmin is surprisingly calm in the busy restaurant, but it’s obvious that Heecheol is distracted by something in his own head.

“I didn’t expect so many tourists this early,” Seungmin says, and he starts to scratch at the bandage on his arm.

You take his hand in yours and pull it closer to you. “Don’t scratch at it, you’ll make it sore.”

“I’d rather it be sore then itchy”

Heecheol doesn’t chime in. He’s staring at your clasped hands, eyes wide and glazed over until you loosen your grip and let go. Maybe he’s not a fan of PDA, which you don’t blame him for. You’re not a fan, either. “Are you and Seungmin the same age?”

“I’m actually a year older, so we didn’t get to have classes together”

A tiny smile tugs at Seungmin’s lips. “That’s why we spent almost all of our free time with each other.”

“So how did you meet?”

“Little league, we got put on the same team”

“Seungmin smiles even bigger now. “The Bears, I think I still have the team photo somewhere at home…” He turns to you, “probably in one of those boxes.”

“I’ll find it”

“Please find it. I lost so many little things moving around. So how did you two meet?”

You decide to let Seungmin take this question, and you hope he can simplify it and somehow make it sound normal.

“Uhm, she walked by me outside of the convenience store by my building, and pretended to be lost…so I helped her home.”

“That’s very cute”

“There was a little bit of chasing, but we figured it out eventually. You said you’re single, right?”

“I am, yeah…I never really dated much. I’ve tried, but it’s hard.”

“You can visit us in Seoul. Maybe you’d feel more comfortable there, being yourself. It’s easier.”

“Easier? How do you know?”

“I’ve spent a lot of time getting a feel for people all over the city. And I’ve taken plenty of them home.” Seungmin cocks his head to the side, and Heecheol’s eyes move between the two of you. “Men, and women…yes. And you would probably do better than I ever have.”

This is the most carefree and comfortable you’ve ever seen Seungmin in someone else’s company. It took what felt like a very long time for him to soften up for you, but this was almost immediate. The moment he realized who he was taking to in that hospital, he started to become lighter; a completely different person—one that didn’t wander into the woods in the dark, or feel the unbearable need to slice his arm open from the turmoil rolling around inside of him.

“Is it that obvious? I guess it is." Heecheol laughs.

“What, that you prefer men? I've known that since I was eight, and we went to that birthday party at the ice rink. Do you remember?”

“Oh my god…uhm, Junsoo, our catcher who couldn’t catch very well. He was turning nine.”

“Right, his older brother was there, and you stared at him the whole time”

“Mhm. Jinhwan. He was twelve, and he was already the best hitter for the senior league. And the best forward on the hockey team. And—”

Seungmin‘s hand jumps up to cover his mouth, and he laughs with his whole body. A sweet laugh, though, the kind that Heecheol can laugh along with and not feel embarrassed. “Yeah, I knew…I knew you like I knew myself.”

“And you were always a mystery to everyone else, but I understood why. We made a good pair.”

“You still do. I don’t hear him laugh like that very often.”

Heecheol turns to you and smiles. “I’m sorry, I hope you don’t feel left out of the conversation.”

“Not at all. I like listening to the two of you talk, and it’s nice to hear him laugh.”

“Still a little mysterious, Mo?”

He rubs at his bandage again. “Not on purpose.”

/ / /

As hard as you try, staying awake on the drive home is nearly impossible, but you shake yourself awake every time you feel yourself slipping. Seungmin has to make this drive, and you know he’s even more exhausted. Finding his friend did perk him up, though, and the music playing on the radio is more upbeat and louder than you’re used to.

“Don’t stay up for me, relax”

“I’m alright. We have a while to go still, so promise me you’ll pull over if you get sleepy.”

“I promise”

He gives you a sweet, sleepy smile, and you’re almost positive you’ll end up in a hotel somewhere tonight. “I like him.”

“Do you? Seeing him again…it felt like no time passed at all, and like nothing bad ever happened.”

“Finding each other again is something special. He loves you, Minnie.”

“We were kind of isolated to each other, aside from the team…but even then, it was just us all the time.”

He didn’t see the way Heecheol looked at him, and maybe it was just disbelief...maybe he couldn’t believe his own eyes—his best friend, back, right in front of him. But you don’t really believe that. Heecheol loves Seungmin the way that you love him; in a way you can’t really describe in words. You can feel it.

His mind goes back to eomeonim and her concern for her son; his loneliness, and believing there’s a reason why they found each other again. But love is a strong word for someone who was there for three years, and then left for the next fifteen. As soon as that thought crosses his mind, he looks at you, nodding off again, and remembers your four months together. Things couldn’t get much more serious than they are now. But he needs you…he loves you? Seungmin isn’t sure he has much more to give after you and two children.

“How are you feeling?”

“My arm feels fine, it’s just a little sore”

“Not that…everything else”

“You mean last night?”

“Yes, last night”

Seungmin thinks. He doesn’t know how to answer this, because he still doesn’t remember a single thing between going to bed around midnight, and then waking up at noon. The scratches on his back are itchy now that he’s thinking of them, but otherwise, there’s nothing. Just what you witnessed. “I don’t remember any of it, so…it’s like it didn’t happen.”

“I’m glad you don’t remember, but I wish I knew why you did it”

“Did you see anything else while you were looking for me?”

See? No. Heard? His mother’s voice, whatever is in the woods, and maybe even his stepfather’s voice outside the shed. That hadn’t occurred to you until right this moment. The hey that you thought was Seungmin, it definitely wasn’t. “I didn’t see anything.”

He looks at you, waiting for more.

“I heard things, but…I was tired, and scared”

“I’m sorry. I’m grateful you cared enough to look for me, but I’m sorry you had to do that.”

“Of course I cared enough, I’d do it again if I had to”

“That’s the last time we spend the night there”

The alarm keeps ringing. Why is there an alarm on in the first place? You somehow form that thought and that question in your sleepy, foggy head. The room is still so dark, though, so it can’t be morning yet. Where is he?

“Where are you?” You’re not even sure it comes out of your mouth. “Seungmin!”

“Hey…I’m right here. I’m sorry.”

The bed moves as he crawls up and grabs his phone, turns off the sound, and the room is finally silent. You turn onto your back and pull yourself up against the pillows, but your head throbs. Opening your eyes feels like it might be a mistake.

“I’m sorry, I forgot to shut off the alarm from last week. Do you need anything? Does your head feel any better?”

“A little…I didn’t mean to yell, I’m sorry. I think I was dreaming.”

“It’s okay”

“My head is better than it was.” His half smile is what you see when you open your eyes, and then his dark hair sweeping across his eyebrows. “Your hair is getting so long.” You reach out and brush some of it away from his forehead, and then your eyes fall to your stomach.

"What time is it?” You set your hand on it and breathe deep, and Seungmin sets his hand on top of yours. Then you switch.

“It’s almost ten, you slept for a while. Oh, I felt something!”

“Did you?”

“Yes, a little kick I think”

“Good, I’m sure they know you’re here”

His smile grows until you see all of his teeth “yeah?” The other hand finds a new spot and waits, but he pouts a little when nothing happens. You don’t feel any kicks or flutters, and he doesn’t either. “It’ll be nice to see them again.”

“What day is it, Min?”

“Wow, you must have slept very well, that’s good. It’s Monday.”

“Monday?”

“Monday the 19th.” He waits as you think. “Your fancy ultrasound is tomorrow. We get to see them in more detail, right?”

“How did I forget?”

Seungmin moves his hand again and waits, and when nothing happens, he’s back up and digging through his dresser for a change of clothes. “They’re wearing you out, but…that’s why I’m here.”

Thanks to him and his attentiveness, getting to week twenty-two was easier than you thought it would be, despite your exhaustion. You’re not sure if this nurturing side of him was always there waiting to come out, or if he’s just been working overtime to be the dad he desperately needed as a child. Whatever it is, he’s doing well.

Seungmin has been okay for the last two months—no hallucinations, no urges, and no truly bad days. He still gets quiet and sulks, but not lately. A new tenant moved in a week ago, and it’s kept him busy until today. The distraction has been good for him, and watching him focus on work was a nice change.

“What are you smirking at?”

“Hm?” His phone is lighting up a smile on his face. It falls a little, but comes back along with a blush on his cheeks as he gets himself under the blankets. “Just talking.”

“Talking?”

“Heecheol sent a message earlier, and I forgot to reply until now”

“Good, I wasn’t sure if you were keeping in touch. How is he?”

“Tired, he said, but he has to work all night so he can’t get any sleep. I was thinking of asking him if he wanted to visit, but only if you feel okay.”

“He can visit whenever he likes, and you two can do whatever you want. Baseball game…night club? Maybe both. You deserve a nice night out.”

“I’ll ask him. Do you think he’d want to stay for a while?”

The idea is nice. “A while…like a weekend? Or a week?” But the more time spent with Seungmin, the more likely it is that Heecheol will see the other side of him, or be around for one of his bad days. “If he wants to. Maybe we can start with a day or two, so we don’t scare him off.”

Seungmin studies you for a moment, and then nods. “Yeah, I guess so."

"I think he would love to spend as much time as possible with you, though"

"I’ve been alright since the whole disappearing into the woods thing, right?”

“You have. You’ve been present, and happy.”

“I’m trying really hard”

There’s a choke in his voice as he says it, and you go back over everything you just said to him in your mind. “You are, I know…and you’re the reason why I’m doing so well right now.” He moves closer until your arms open for him. “You’ve been there for me every single day and night.”

“Have I? Have I been good enough?”

Seungmin still has a hard time believing it, you know that, even as you hold onto him and squeeze him tight.

[liketolaugh-writes]

I'm confused about how you read that entire exchange and apparently did not absorb it but I think you maybe need to watch Danny Phantom again.

Yes. I am aware of all of those mentalities. I am aware that a large portion of the DPxDC fandom wants Danny to expect Superman to be Kon's parent (because apparently parenthood is something that can be forced on you and God forbid you feel violated.) I am aware of where Danny gets the grudges that people invent for him (a character that does not hold grudges against anyone except Vlad.) I am aware that there are multiple Flashes and that Danny is equally happy to insult all of them (because talking back to authority is a thing that Danny does. Ever. In his canon.) And I am well aware of how much of the DPxDC fandom likes to portray the Justice League as a bunch of idiots, which... is also not consistent with any of their canons and just, again, comes down to the chip-in-the-shoulder a lot of people seem to carry for heroes these days.

None of that is what I'm addressing. Fandom is built on headcanons and expanded universe, and it's great to build those things! It's great for them to build extra backstory to meld the two universes together, to fill out Danny's kind of flimsy canon, to have Danny already have opinions based on that backstory. You can write all these things if you want. I understand that people enjoy them, and DPxDC has a particularly mutated fanon that people have built over years now. People love these stories!

The part that I am illustrating is that the manner in which it's usually carried out is extremely unlike Danny. See above (far above) characterization notes. But especially, doubly so, for a Danny that grew up knowing and loving the Justice League for most of his childhood, before he had any reason to resent them.

Quite frankly, out of anyone, I would expect Danny - who routinely fights for a town that hated him for half the cartoon, and rescues people that have been cruel to him personally - to understand how terribly difficult it is to be a hero at all. To understand that they work hard to save people every day, that the Flashes time-traveled under great duress and out of pure desperation (as Danny usually does), and to understand that anyone who works around the clock to rescue people is, fundamentally, a good person even when they make mistakes or act out in anger. Repeatedly - with Valerie, with Dora, with Ghost Writer and Dash and Amorpho - Danny is shown to have an intense sense of empathy that lets him forgive people who have acted against him and are not sorry about it.

(And, personally, I think that Danny, having been cloned, would understand how violated Superman felt even if he doesn't agree with how he responded - but that's speculation, I suppose.)

And finally, while I understand the motives writers have for this portrayal (see, again, above notes about fandoms with sweet protagonists that take a lot of shit) the problem is that this vengeful behavior people want him to have is extremely out of character for a boy who:

Apologizes to Dash for something Dash doesn't even know he did (overshadowing him to stick his head in a trash can)

Goes to intentionally let his dad capture him because his dad was having a really bad day

Is the first to suggest a truce the moment he thinks an antagonistic character might be open to it (true of Valerie, Dash, all of his rogues, and occasionally even Vlad)

Once genuinely thought Jazz was beating him up out of anger and responded by apologizing and trying to convince her to calm down

Pretty much only ever just wants people to get along?

I also don't know why you assumed I was basing my entire opinion off drabbles and dialogue snippets, because... no? The stimulus for this entire post was in fact a fic of nearly 10k, which I stopped reading because I was so mortified that Danny kept insulting people that were actively helping him and being considerate and understanding? I don't even read drabbles outside of Tumblr. I prefer longfics, always, and I assure you that I still see all of this pretty regularly. I don't think I've once seen someone imply that Danny holding a grudge is unusual for him.

Why is Danny everyone’s mouthpiece for their random grudges against various superheroes? Why is it SO COMMON for Danny to show up and immediately start chewing people out?

Like. Danny? Mr. ‘My Parents Shoot At Me But It’s Fine’? Mr. ‘Dates The One Ghost Hunter At His School’? Danny ‘Dash Can Shove Me Around I Guess’ Fenton? Holds a bunch of grudges against popular superheroes and tries to punch them at the first available opportunity??

I know it’s become a pretty popular characterization in fandom for Danny to be pretty testy/spiteful, I just don’t really get it

[cosmerelists]

Should You Invite These Cosmere Characters to Boardgame Night?

As requested by anon. :)

I've done two boardgame-related posts before this (I love boardgames): Favorite Boardgames of Each Knights Radiant Order and Should You Invite the Shards to Boardgame Knight?

In this list, allow me to provide some advice about whether or not you should invite these Cosmere characters to your next boardgame night!

1. Adolin: Yes

Adolin is a delight at every social gathering. He brings wine that somebody at the store told him was good. He has fun with every game whether he wins or loses. By the end of the night, he is somehow the best friend of each individual guest.

2. Shallan: Yes

Is she cheating? Maybe. But she makes a lot of puns and you know that if she tries to cheat TOO much, Radiant will stop her.

3. Kaladin: No

He wins everything. It's annoying. He joined Settlers of Katan twenty minutes late and STILL won. How does he do it???

4. Kelsier: Yes

At first you were admittedly intimidated, as Kelsier kept smiling to himself and saying things like "Just wait until I reveal my Master Plan!" But actually, he kinda loses games...a lot. Keeps smiling, though, so you assume he's having a good time! What a good sport!

5. Vin: Only if you like losing

Like Kaladin, Vin wins all. the. time. But unlike Kaladin, she doesn't come late & then win in a blaze of sudden glory, no. She simply...destroys you. Continuously and brutally for the entire night.

6. Harmony: No

No offense to Harmony, who's a good dude 'n' all, but man, he takes FOREVER to make his next move. It's like--we're playing Sorry. You either move forward 10 or back 1. It's just two choices! How is he thinking for like 10 billion years??

7. Lopen: Maybe

Lopen likes to play around and tease people. He MAY mock you a little too much when your attempt to "Draw 2" him backfires and you find yourself drawing 8 cards in Uno... but other than that, he's a good time.

8. Blushweaver: Maybe

You didn't realize checkers even COULD be played as "Strip Checkers."

9. Tien: Yes

Tien is mostly concerned with making sure that everyone else is having a good time. Even after he gets killed during a round of "Werewolves," he continues to grin and encourage the rest of you to have a good time. W-Wait, why do you suddenly feel like crying?

10. Skar: Yes

Like Tien, Skar also seems chiefly concerned with making sure everyone else has a good time. Bonus: he's GREAT at explaining the rules!

11. Lightsong: Depends on how competitive you are

Ask yourself this: if there's a guy there who wins every game despite clearly and loudly not understanding the rules, would that be fun? If yes, then go for it. If no, then don't invite Lightsong--he doesn't understand how to play Hearts and he doesn't care to, yet he has shot the moon TWICE.

12. Nale: No

No one likes a rules lawyer.

13. Shai: Yes

Shai knows all of these obscure, complicated games that actually turn out to be really fun!

14. Hoid: No

Hoid knows all of these obscure, complicated games and while he does explain the rules, you can't shake the feeling that he's actually playing by an entirely different set of rules that he's not being totally honest about...

15. Elend: Yes

Elend was born to participate in board game nights weekly.

16. Telsin: No

She cheats 100% of the time. You didn't even know it was POSSIBLE to cheat in Connect 4, but she somehow found a way...

17. Raboniel: Well...

Raboniel is ENORMOUSLY competitive and cares very deeply about winning...but she also respects the game. She is surprisingly gracious about losing despite her eyes blazing with the heat of ten million suns as she slapped down that 7-letter word in Scrabble. Yet when you responded with your own, better 7-letter word, clinching the victory, you could tell that she respected you for it.

...But on the other hand, you've been clammy with fear sweats for 45 minutes now.

[hxnbi]

hi!! I love your writing :). I wanted to request an angst to fluff scenario where reader likes the boy and confesses to him but he turns her down, but then he later regrets it and comes back?? and they live happily ever after??? i don’t really have any specific preferences other than that but im such a sucker for rejecting and regretting/she falls first he falls harder scenarios!! im using her/she to refer to the reader rn but i dont have any preference, just not sure how else to write it haha id love if you could include suo, togame, and umemiya but totally up to you :).

hey so thanks sm for your request! i loved writing this and with these boys, tho umemiya's does end on a pretty angsty note with how i was initially drafting it. i hope thats okay ♡

confessions, rejections, and regrets

⸻ °♡⃘ . you confess to the boy you liked, only to be rejected. or so you think, as, unbeknownst to you, he was battling his own feelings, too afraid to admit his love, up until he finally finds the courage to stand before you once again. but this time, it was him who would be begging for your heart.

⸝⸝ 𑅛𑅫 Suo Hayato

Tears. All you could feel dripping from your face and down your cheeks was the salty aftermath of your own tears. And standing before you, the boy who had just rejected you.

"I'm sorry, I just don't see you in that light," Suo, with his hands firmly placed in front of the other, repeated, further breaking your heart into a million pieces.

Pitifully, you laughed—but little humour was found in the dreary quiet of your heart. "I know," you whispered, choking down the ache that was your confession to the person you'd grown to admire and love.

The pain lingered with every thought—that Suo was simply just too good for you, but so did your respect for him. Even if you tried your hardest to do so, you just couldn't find it in yourself to dislike him. 

Suo had always been kind, even as he rejected you.

That was part of why you liked him so much in the first place. Even if it hurt, you couldn't blame him for having such feelings about you that just weren't the same. You couldn't continue to be selfish.

"I know. Just, thank you, for hearing me out," you said, your voice becoming surprisingly steady, slowly accepting what you heard. "That's just the kind of person you are."

And then you walked away. You refused to let him see the fresh tears welling up in your eyes. You respected his choice. If he didn't reciprocate your feelings, you couldn't force it. It had to be mutual—or nothing at all.

Days turned into weeks, and though you still felt the ache of his rejection, like with most things, you had to move on and push forward. You treated Suo the same way you treated everyone else. Although, you couldn't deny that it was rather awkward after Suo saw you well up with tears dripping down your face like a waterfall. And it didn't help that you both were friends with the Furin first years, like Kiryu and Nirei, whom you were very close to.

So, time and time again, you would avoid Suo like the plague; all the while, he seemed to watch from afar, unsure of how to bridge the gap. You were always respectful, never bitter, never clinging. It was difficult, but you refused to let your emotions tarnish your friendship or make things awkward. 

Suo, however, found himself unable to stay away. He'd initially assumed your feelings for him were just surface-level, a kind of shallow attraction to his looks, but that couldn't have been further from the truth. He only realized this when he peeled back the layers of who you were—a kind, genuine individual so far removed from the superficial affection he had imagined. And as time passed, he began to notice more—the way you treated everyone around you with the same kindness and consideration.

But over time, Suo would see you purposely trying to hide from him, all the while pretending everything was okay and nothing changed. It was saddening, in a way, how your laughter grew quieter, your gaze avoiding his, and the fun and games you two once shared together seemed to slip through his fingers like grains of sand.

But you couldn't hide from Suo forever. 

"He just doesn't like me, Nirei.”

Taking a walk around the neighbourhood that evening, following his typical routine, Suo had unknowingly overheard you talking to Nirei. And unlike his straightforward character, he continued to hide behind the wall and listen, his heart aching with every word he caught from your lips.

"It’s not that I don’t care…" you said softly to Nirei, who had asked about what had happened between you and Suo. "He rejected me, and I have to respect that. You can't have a relationship if both sides don't feel the same."

"I see... B-But do you still like him?" Nirei finally asked, twiddling his own thumbs. 

You hesitated for a moment before answering, "I do."

That conversation was what really hit him hard. That you still liked him. That maybe... he wasn't too late to come around.

"Nirei, not knowing what to say to a person who seemingly still had feelings for one of his closest friends, winced, "He'll... he'll come around," not necessarily finding the right words, but you didn't appear to mind it. Rather, you were too distracted with your own feelings.

And Suo, hidden from view, felt his chest tighten. He wasn't sure why he'd been hiding in the first place, but suddenly, he couldn't bear to listen any longer. He shouldn't even be here, listening to your conversation and very obviously intruding on your privacy. 

But just before he could slip away, though, very conveniently, Sakura popped out from behind the corner. "The hell are you doing back here?" loud enough for both you and Nirei to hear and turn your heads to meet the noise—and Suo, right before your very eyes. 

Your eyes went wide in shock as you spotted Suo standing right there, seemingly who had heard everything.

"S-Suo, what are you—"

Back-and-forth looks were exchanged, and so too was the silence. Nirei and Sakura gave brief, knowing glances, and with a single look, Nirei left you two alone, much to your dismay and humiliation. 

You stood frozen, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts, none of which managed to form coherent words to say to the boy who had basically just heard you confess your feelings to him once again. Nervous and fidgeting, you finally let out a sigh. "Hayat– Suo, I'm really sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I promise that I'm not going to bother you anymore. I really—"

But your words and apologies were left on deaf ears—cut off mid-sentence before Suo suddenly reached for you, his hand gently pulling you toward him. Before you could even process what was happening, you found yourself wrapped in his arms, your head resting against his chest.

"I was wrong."

"…H-Huh?"

"I was so, so wrong," he muttered, grasping at the edge of your sleeve even tighter than just a second ago. "I thought you only liked me for shallow reasons, but... I've realized that I like you too. More than I ever let myself admit. And I apologize for making you wait."

You blinked, your brain going haywire, trying to comprehend every word that left his lips, but Suo only held you tighter, his chin resting on the top of your head. When you didn't answer, he went on—whether that was for your or his own reassurance that you wouldn't be the one rejecting him this time was unclear.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to see it, but I don't want to let this go," he murmured. "I don't want to lose you." He regretted every moment of him rejecting you since that day. And if you were to be the one rejecting him this time… 

Your breath hitched at the base of your throat, disbelief seeping into your every thought. Was he serious…? The boy who had rejected you, who had caused you so much heartache, was now confessing to the very feelings you had once longed to hear.

'You make it so unfair…' you muttered. 

Part of you wanted to reject him, to make him feel how you felt after he rejected you. But deep down, you knew you couldn't find it in yourself to throw away this chance. And neither could Suo.

"I… I still like you, too."

Your voice was hardly audible, but Suo heard it loud and clear. He pulled away just enough to meet your eyes, his expression soft and vulnerable. "Then let's start over."

Your lips trembled into a small smile. "Alright."

Suo leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, until Suo suddenly grabbed your hand, making you jump slightly. "Come on," he said, tugging you gently. "Let's go grab something to eat. I know of a good spot that just opened that serves your favourite food."

"W-Wait, Hayato, I thought you were on a diet?" you stammered, completely caught off guard by his change in behaviour. He had always been strict about his routine—always so disciplined, so focused. But now, he seemed different. Lighter, somehow. But that was Suo for you.

He smiled, softer this time, his eyes lovingly meeting yours. "I can't miss this opportunity to spend time with a special someone. You can't keep avoiding me forever," making your face flush crimson as his words sunk in.

⸝⸝ 𑅛𑅫 Togame Jo

Shit… he shouldn't have said that.

Togame's words had slipped out before he could stop them, and the second he did, he knew he had fucked up. He cursed from under his breath, his hands already reaching out toward you as your face crumpled with hurt.

You stood there, staring at him—processing every snide word that left Togame's mouth—your chest rising and falling as if you were struggling even to breathe. He didn't mean it. He knew he didn't mean it, and he was pretty sure you knew that, too. But the damage was done, and he could see it in your eyes, the way he could see the shimmering of unshed tears ready to drip down your flushed cheeks..

"I'm sorry," Togame said immediately, his voice softening as he pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you like a protective barrier. He could feel you stiffen in his hold, your hands pushing weakly against his chest, but he wasn't about to let go, not on that horrible note. 

"Let go, Jo," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "You made your decision. You've... I've already said enough."

But Togame wasn't listening. Not with what he just had done and said that only left him with regrets. He couldn't take it anymore. Not the sadness in your voice, not the way you tried to pull away from him like he was a stranger. No, he wasn't letting you walk away like this, not after everything you had shared. And certainly not after everything he just spat at you.

"I didn't mean it, okay?" His words were rushed, almost desperate. Togame's grip on you only tightened with time, refusing to let go even an inch. "I was stupid. I-I'm sorry, I didn't know what I was saying, but I promise you, I'll fix this. I can't stand seeing you like this."

Your heart hurt at his words. You were utterly torn between wanting to believe him and protecting yourself from further hurt. After all, he had already said plenty… "You don't get just to say something like that and then take it back, Jo. It doesn't work like that..."

Togame's breath hitched as your words sliced the air and, in turn, his heart. His mind and body froze

That wasn't it. Not at all. He liked you. He loved you.

His rejection was but a projection of his own insecurities—that he wouldn’t be the right person for you.

But never did he think that he too didn’t want anyone else in your life, that it made his heart ache just thinking about it, the idea of someone else seeing your smile, hearing your laugh and holding the piece of your heart he so desperately longed for—that he previously had thrown away. 

He hated himself for it—hated that he’d let his fears dictate his actions, that he’d hurt the one person who made his world feel less empty.

But he couldn’t let this end here. Not like this.

"I know. But— fuck…" he said quietly, his voice breaking, cracking into incomprehensible pieces of a heartbroken sentence. His shoulders trembled as he finally loosened his rough grip on you. Although his hands still rested hesitantly on your shoulders. “I know I can’t undo what I said, but I need you to know... I was wrong. I’m so damn wrong, and I’m so sorry.”

Scrunching your face, you shook your head, gaze fixed on the ground as you tried to will away the tears that had long streamed down your face. “Why, Jo?”

Why. A simple explanation as to his stupid, idiotic, impulsive mistake was all that you wanted from him. 

His heart clenched at your words. Pure guilt tore him apart. He wished he could go back and rewind time to the moment before his insecurities took over. But he couldn’t. All he had now was this moment to make things right.

“Because I’m a coward!” 

His confession all tumbled out in a rush, unfiltered. “I’m a fucking coward.” Every word was a weight being lifted from his chest, all in hopes that you might understand might hear him out, even if it wouldn’t completely change things.  “I thought... I thought you deserved someone better. Someone who wouldn’t screw things up like I always do. Someone who could make you happy without dragging you into all my mess.”

Your eyes flickered up to meet his, for once, the honesty in his voice catching you heavily off guard. He appeared to be so unusually vulnerable, completely stripped of the bravado he usually wore like armour on his fists.

“But I can’t stop thinking about you,” he continued, his hands sliding down your arms as if needing a sense of reassurance that you were still with him and by his side and not a figment of his imagination. Hesitant but hopeful. “Every time I tried to push you away, it just made me want you more. And I was a complete idiot for thinking I could ever be okay without you.”

“Togame...”

“And I get it if you hate me for this,” he interrupted, all the words tumbling out of his mouth before he lost his nerve. “But I need you to know... I’m not asking for a second chanc—” he paused his sentence, before he could lose his resolve completely. “I love you. I’ve loved you all along, even when I was too scared to admit it.”

Your chest tightened. You oh-so-wanted to stay angry, to hold onto the pain, but his confession was undoing every wall you had tried to build.

“I'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you. Just... don't walk away from me. Please. Not like this."

“.....”

“...Do you mean that?” 

Your voice was hardly audible as you looked up at him.

“More than anything.” 

Togame cupped your smaller face in his callous hands, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that had escaped down your cheek, kissing the pain away.  “I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you if that’s what it takes.”

For the slightest moment, neither of you spoke. You could hardly hear a thing other than the sound of your breathing and the beat of his heart pressed tightly against yours. You felt his arms around you, warm and safe, and despite everything, a part of you wanted to stay right there, to believe that things could be okay. 

Then, slowly, you nodded, the smallest of smiles breaking through your tears. “I hate that you’re so good at making me believe you,” you said softly, for the first time all day, a small laugh escaped your lips. And it was heavenly. It was what he loved so much about you. 

Togame’s lips quirked up in a tentative grimace. “Does that mean… I get another shot?”

“Don’t make me regret it,” you murmured, but your voice was warm, filled with the hope that maybe—just maybe—this time things could be different. "I'm not going anywhere," you finally said. "But you have to mean it this time, Jo."

He nodded, his forehead resting against yours. "I do. I promise."

So, just like that, you let it go. Slowly, you relaxed in his arms, letting the weight of your sadness slip away, if only for a moment. Togame didn't let go, and neither did you.

And in that moment, wrapped in his arms, you allowed yourself to believe him. For now, that was enough.

⸝⸝ 𑅛𑅫 Umemiya Hajime

"But we can still be friends!" Umemiya's voice rang out, almost too cheerful for the conversation you'd just had. He flashed you that familiar smile, oblivious to how his words felt like a punch to your chest. 

"Oh! There's actually an event at Furin soon. I know you like a good barbecue. You should join us! It'll be fun!"

You stared at him, nonblinking, and for a brief second, you couldn't believe he was serious. How could he be so, casual? He must be playing you, right...? But no, that was just how Umemiya was, as you've found him for years.

You had just poured your entire heart into him, and in return, he offered you friendship—a friendship that you already had with him for years—as if it were a consolation prize. 

But your heart ached so much, desperate for any kind of connection to him, that even the slightest bit of attention, however hollow, felt like a lifeline. So you nodded, forcing a polite smile across your face. "Yeah... sure, I'll come."

And just like that, you became that of a shadow, a close friend who laughed at his jokes, stayed by his side when he needed someone, and cheered for him during the times when you both would play video games. You were nothing more than a mere member of his Furin family. All the times you would talk and laugh together with them were great,  and even the occasional late-night hangouts. But it wasn't enough. It was never fully enough. 

Staying close to Umemyia only made you want him more, and that fact haunted you. Being so close to him yet knowing you couldn't have him the way you wanted was agony. The more time you spent around him, the more you craved his attention, but not as a friend, no, but as something more. It gnawed at you, that longing, and with each passing day, it became harder and harder to pretend. 

It wasn't just unfair to you—it was unfair to him, too. He deserved someone who wouldn't secretly hope for something more, who wouldn't keep pushing the boundary between friendship and something deeper. You knew this arrangement couldn't go on, not without tearing you apart.

So, one night, after finally gathering the courage, you decided to put an end to it. But unbeknownst to you, Umemiya wasn't doing any better either. 

Before, he never considered you more than a friend—someone who'd been there through all the ups and downs, always supportive, always kind, always you.

He never questioned the ease with which he could talk to you or the way your laughter seemed to brighten the atmosphere of any room you were in. 

So when you finally confessed to him that very day—that your feelings toward him were more than what he thought—he hadn't thought much of it beyond friendship. He didn't think it was deeper than that… not until after he turned you down.

At first, Umemiya was convinced it was the right thing to do. He told himself he didn't feel the same way. But as the days passed, those same thoughts weighed differently on him. The way you still smiled at him, still treated him the same even after his rejection—it gnawed at him. 

He started seeing the little things he hadn't noticed before. The way you always knew exactly what to say to cheer him up after a bad day, the way your eyes lingered on him for just a second too long, the way your laugh sounded like it was just for him. 

And suddenly, it wasn't just about friendship anymore.

At night, alone with his thoughts, he realized he had been wrong. So, so wrong. The feelings he'd dismissed as just a fleeting affection had grown—almost insidiously—into something he couldn't ignore. It became a constant. An ache of longing to be near you, but this time, not just as a friend, but as someone who could hold you, kiss you, call you his own. 

So when you suddenly asked for him to, and you meet up together alone after the barbeque, Umemiya's heart jumped in his chest. This was it. This was his chance to fix everything and correct his mistake, to tell you the truth, to apologize for being so dense. He was ignorant, blatant even, to one of the dearest people in the world to him. 

Tonight, he was going to do it. He was going to make it up to you by apologizing and asking for forgiveness. He was excited, hopeful even, imagining the moment when he'd pour out his heart and beg for your forgiveness. You were kind, after all. You'd understand. You had to.

He could barely contain his nerves as he waited for you, replaying his apology speech over and over in his mind. 

But when you arrived, something felt off. But Umemyia merely brushed it off as mere nerves. But then you spoke.

"I can't do this anymore."

Your eyes met his, and for a moment, Umemiya's heart stopped. He forced a laugh, trying to shake off the unease creeping into his chest. "What do you mean? O-Oh! If you're talking about how Sakura was acting earlier, hah, he doesn't mean it! You know how he is, just messing around."

But you didn't smile. You didn't laugh. Your expression remained serious, and it made his stomach drop. No, it couldn't be, right?

"Umemiya, I can't do this anymore," you repeated once again, your voice breaking, trembling in a way he had never heard before. "I can't just act like nothing happened anymore. I thought that I could continue being your friend. I really tried. But... it hurts too much. Please, I—"

His heart clenched. No, no, no—this wasn't right. This wasn't how tonight was supposed to go. He was supposed to apologize, to tell you how he felt, to fix things. But now, seeing you like this, so hurt, it paralyzed him.

"Don't say it."

"Hajime, please. Don't make this any harder than it has to be."

No, he couldn't let you walk away. Not like this. Not when everything had finally clicked for him. Before he could stop himself, the words spilled out, desperate and unplanned.

"—BUT I LOVE YOU!!"

And he said it.

The moment those words escaped his lips, everything seemed to freeze, and the silence that followed was unbearable. He watched you, waiting for some sign, some reaction that would let him know he wasn't too late. But your eyes... they were filled with so much pain, it made his heart ache even more.

You didn't speak right away, and the longer the silence stretched, the more regret began to claw at him. Why hadn't he seen it sooner? Why did he wait until now, when you were standing here, on the verge of walking away, to realize how much you meant to him? His own foolishness, his blindness—it was too much to bear.

"Why now?" you finally asked. Your voice was soft, barely audible, as if you were afraid of the answer he was giving. It wasn't angry, but it wasn't hopeful either. It was aching, that desperate part of you. "Why... after everything?"

Umemiya couldn’t answer. He didn't have a good reason. He just knew that he loved you now, that he couldn't imagine his life without you in it. But he also knew that might not be enough.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his hands trembling at his sides. "I'm so sorry. I didn't realize... I didn't know until it was too late."

The tears in your eyes broke him. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He thought he'd be able to fix things, to make everything right, but now it felt like everything was slipping through his fingers.

And much to his horror, you shook your head slowly, stepping back, the distance between you growing—both physically and emotionally. "It's not fair, Hajime. You can't just say that now... not after everything."

For the first time in his life, Umemiya Hajime didn’t know what to say. He stood there, stunned, the words he wanted to say lodged in his throat because, deep down, he already knew.

He didn’t have the right to ask for more when he had rejected the very thing he now realized he couldn’t live without. He had turned you away, convinced it was for the best, only to understand far too late just how much he had thrown away. His indecision—his cowardice—had led to this moment. And now, it wasn’t just his heart breaking; it was yours, too.

He opened his mouth, tried to reach for you, but his arms fell back to his sides. He couldn’t keep making excuses. He couldn’t selfishly try to pull you back, not when his own fickleness had caused you so much pain.

So he let it happen. Right before his very eyes, he watched you take another step back, your face etched with a hurt he knew he had no way of easing. And when you turned, it felt as though the entire world had slipped out of his grasp.

The streets around him blurred as he stared at the spot where you had just stood, his mind and body going through the realization that he might just never get the chance to fix this.

“Wait...” he whispered hoarsely, hand unconsciously reaching forward, but the word fell into the silence, unheard and unanswered.

And with that, you were gone, leaving him behind—alone, with but the cold remnants of his mistakes.

lol i also noticed how each just gets slowly more bittersweet to straight up angsty in umemiya's

©hxnbi. comments, reblogs and likes are always appreciated ♡

[thethronezone]

High Consort to the Emperor

There's not enough Emperor x Reader content *rolls up my sleeves* Guess I have to do it myself.

First of all, I think the only way he would get into an actual, long term relationship would be if the other person were a perpetual. Like, he don't wanna invest time and effort and emotions into a person that is going to die of old age after, what, 200, 300 years? He did that shit when he was younger and that always hurt. He ain't doing that again.

Even if you are a perpetual though that's lived for thousands of years he's always going to act slightly patronizing towards you. He always thinks that he knows best and any arguments you have is simply seen as a tantrum on your end. He'll just wait until you've calmed down and come to your senses.

Partner is given the title of High Consort. Very neat title, all the benefits and you probably don't have to do any actual work. Maybe act nice and polite in front of high ranking officials but that's it. Of course, if you want to work then Big E ain't gonna stop you. In fact, he'll be happy that you're so invested in the Imperium! Here's some paperwork and administrative duties to keep you busy. Yeah, he mostly sees this as a way to keep you entertained and feeling useful.

You'll have anything you could ever think of. Any food, any clothing, any luxury. The Emperor says he doesn't like to spoil you but after returning from a long mission or whatever, he will always bring you something. Mostly just so he can show off and impress you. The man has a massive ego, what did you expect? For a guy that refuses to be called a god, he sure loves it when you worship him.

Rarely calls you your actual name, at least in public. Calls you a mixture of "Consort", "my Consort", and if he's feeling playful/flirty, "my star". Only really calls you your name behind closed doors, when it's just the two of you (plus any Custodian that might be there, he don't give a fuck).

Matching outfits! At least, you're matching him. Always some kind of gold in your outfits, be it golden threads or gold jewelry. Of course you also wear a laurel.

Likes having you by his side but can go for longer periods without your company, simply because he knows he will eventually see you and catch up. And by 'longer periods' I mean months, years, DECADES. He's a busy man, alright? Always acts like it's been no time at all since he last saw you when you finally reunite. After all, what is time for a man that is immortal and has lived for tens of thousands of years?

You have your own Custodi bodyguard that follows you everywhere. They were not chosen just for their skill but also because the actually know how to hold a conversation like a normal person. Are they still a brainwashed superhuman with unquestionable loyalty to the Emperor? Sure, but when you ask them how they are feeling they don't automatically go "Feelings are irrelevant, only service to the Emperor of Mankind matters" like majority of the Custodes do.

The Emperor prefers it when you stay in the Imperial Palace. Does he stop or forbid you from leaving? No, you're a grown person, you can make your own decisions. WILL have you followed however. Not because he doesn't trust you but he's got so many enemies that it would be stupid to assume no one would target you in order to get to him.

Malcador the Bestie! Will listen to you vent about your love life and then give you some solid advice. Is the advice slightly biased because he wants you to get along with the Emperor (which has proven to increase the man's effectiveness and willingness to collaborate by a staggering 1.4%)? Maybe, but it's still solid advice! Also brings you the best gossip.

[flwrkid14]

Sleeping beauty!Tim au but make it angsty

Red Robin gets hit with a spell that makes him sleep and no one is able to wake him up. The wizard villain of the week disappeared after hitting Tim with it and only by the grace of God and Red Hood's speed was he caught before he tumbled off the damn roof.

The batfam think it'll be an easy fix, Bruce gets Zatanna to show up... Except...

Bruce: Why did it not work?

Zatanna: it's one of those fickle sleep spells that can only be broken by true love's kiss. Luckily, it doesn't have to be a romantic kiss or one on the lips, as long as it's from someone who truly loves Red Robin.

Bruce: So why is he not awake?

Zatanna: The fickle thing about this particular spell is that for it to break, Red Robin has to believe that the person who kissed him truly loves him.

Cue all the angst and heartbreak and self reflection as the batfam realize, after each of them tries to wake Tim, that their brother genuinely thinks they don't love him.

Eventually it's Kon who manages to wake Tim up with a gentle kiss on the forehead.

In the aftermath, Tim doesn't know how to deal with the way the batfam are looking at him like he broke their hearts or the way Bruce looks uncomfortably on the verge of tears.

Thank you so much for the ask!!—this is such a deliciously angsty concept, and I can’t get over how much it says about the Batfamily and their emotional blind spots.

It’s so painfully them, isn’t it? The Batfamily, who love so fiercely but are absolutely terrible at showing it in ways that matter. They’re all so busy with their missions, their duty, their endless fight to keep Gotham and each other safe, that they don’t stop to think about how their love is perceived. They assume it’s obvious in the way they watch each other’s backs or show up when it counts. But Tim? Tim’s spent so long in the shadows, convincing himself he’s just a cog in the machine, that he doesn’t see any of that as love.

And now they’re standing there, one by one, trying and failing to wake him up. It’s not just frustrating—it’s devastating. Because the truth they’ve all been avoiding is staring them in the face: Tim doesn’t believe they love him. And maybe, deep down, they know why. Every harsh word, every time they brushed him off because there was a bigger crisis, every moment they assumed Tim was fine because he didn’t say otherwise—it’s all coming back to haunt them now.

Jason probably storms off first, pretending it doesn’t bother him, but the guilt is eating him alive. Dick, who prides himself on being the emotional glue of the family, is visibly shaken—because how could he miss this? How could he fail Tim like this? And Bruce, oh, Bruce—he’s silent, but you can see the way his hands tremble, the way his jaw tightens. He’s spent years thinking his actions spoke louder than words, and now he’s realizing he might’ve been wrong.

And when Kon finally wakes Tim up? It’s not just a relief—it’s a wake-up call. Kon, who loves Tim so plainly and without hesitation, didn’t have to fight through layers of doubt or miscommunication. His love was clear, and Tim believed it without question. The Batfamily can’t say the same, and it hurts.

But what really gets me is the aftermath. Tim, sitting there, bewildered and uncomfortable as the Batfamily stares at him with those shattered, guilty expressions. To him, it doesn’t make sense—he’s fine, the mission’s done, so why are they acting like he’s the one who needs fixing? And when Bruce finally asks, voice quiet and cracking, “Why didn’t you believe us?” Tim doesn’t know how to answer. Because in his mind, it wasn’t a question of love—it was a question of worth.

It’s such a raw, painful exploration of the Batfamily’s dynamic. They love each other deeply, but they’re so bad at saying it, at showing it in ways that the other person can feel. And Tim? Tim’s just been waiting, quietly, for proof he didn’t think would ever come.

This is such a beautifully tragic setup, and I love how it forces them all to face what they’ve been avoiding. If you—or anyone—writes this, I would absolutely love to read it!! The emotional fallout alone would be worth its weight in tears!