#i really love everyone but it's an active effort sometimes because of this shitty piece of equipment.

[violight-ghost]

Just more vent shit auiuuuuu

[fortunatelyenchantingtaco]

"I know Alan's marriage with Alice is wonderful" man idk, i have no doubt that they love each other but i thought a major thematic piece of aw1 and 2 had everything to do with the fact that he treated her like absolute dogshit sometimes. obviously there's more going on and alan is better than that in the long run, but from alice's perspective especially scratch is such an allegory for an abusive spouse it's not even funny 🤔

I mean Scratch is basically everything bas in Alan but warped and maxed out to a degree that himself he would become

Alan is pretty depressed even in the first game, even if it manifests in his anger, it is still rooted in a very low view of himself. He’s convinced he’s a horrible person, an abusive husband, a failure of a writer

Which we dont actually see — like we see some of their fights, but it is normal in a marriage especially considering this is Alan being in writers block. It doesn’t justify his actions but often times relationships are a thing you have to work at. Its a conscious decision and effort to make it work, and people like Alan being temperamental when it comes to their art isnt a reason to just say that oh hes not fit for marriage hes abusive

Their trip in the first game is an effort on both ends to actually make it work because they love each other but Alan’s block is hard to deal with

Both games Alan’s sole purpose is to save Alice cause he loves her, loves her enough to stop writing and be locked in the Dark Place to keep her safe, we can see it in his flashbacks

And in the second game we can finally see Alice no longer being a damsel in distress but taking action. Like idk if its just me but the last message alone is for me a big confirmation there is so much love between them. She is so soft, so confident in him, in herself. She doesnt mind that he needs time, she knows he will eventually get there. That last video is personal, only for him to see, and its filled with so much love

I wouldn’t begrudge if they got divorced after everything settled down because of the amount of trauma they both experienced, but they love each other. Scratch might be a part of Alan but thats not all there is to him, there is anger and possessiveness in everyone, his just got a paranormal boost and got a mind of its own

We dont see much love in the first game cause narrative wise Alice very much played a role of a damsel in distress. But in the second game??? She is actively participating, her goal is not to get rid of Scratch, its to get Alan back

Like i dont think Scratch is an allegory for an abusive husband its not really a major point in any of it. Im not even sure if the haunting was actually that bad — we only see what Alive shows us, and all of it feels reallt pointed specifically like look here, here, you go. She guides him by the hand to where he needs to go

Fights between couples are normal and we dont really see any abuse happening or Alice wouldnt have been trying to save their marriage. Alan might have been shitty at times because of his obvious struggles, anger and drinking problems but nothing we know of shows actual abuse. Like i dont wanna just go oh he wasnt!! But what we see are arguments that genuenly happen to every couple

One of the big points of the game for me is that Alan is flawed. Hes not what you would typically call a good person, a hero, but he loves his wife, he sacrificed himself for her, he keeps trying to go back to her. The possessiveness and anger of Scratch, even if hes part of Alan, isnt everything he is, because we all have it

The whoel ending and ascension talk is specifically about accepting that there is dark in you. But its not all there is

Like idk the first game does make it a bit ambiguous but the second one is pretty clear in pointing out their love and active effort to make it work, which is honestly more than you can say about a lot of couples

[rorschachisgay]

i find reading 4chan posts absolutely fascinating in a like anthropological study way. everyone on that site has something horrifically wrong with them but there's a clear dividing line between people who are managing their lives but hang out on there because they are also unbelievably racist vs people who know theres something wrong with them and with the world but cant cope with it and get encouraged by the site to sink deeper into their own misery. i think there was a point in time when there were people on 4chan who werent reprehensible human beings but we're long past that point and now its just purely egregiously awful.

but there is something so interesting about it as a like hive of human suffering. no one on there is like actually happy with their lives. sometimes you get those posts like the turtle one i just reblogged that are kind of beautiful in their earnest appreciation for life and that we can all empathise with but there's no doubt in my mind that every single other post that user has made is like talking about the pussy phrenology of different anime girls.

you have this very specific type of person who is completely disaffected by society and is deeply isolated, either has no real friends or no one he feels close with enough to be actually honest with, understands that the system we live in is broken and that he himself is a broken person, but has chosen to concentrate all that anger and misery into becoming the most hateful version of themselves possible. probably doesn't even see it as a choice because he doesn't see immediate reward for making the most minute amount of effort to improve his life, so assumes that it's totally helpless. and that's not to say they don't live in circumstances that do make profound change incredibly difficult because i have seen that some of them do, but there's also a refusal to stop being in online spaces that are actively encouraging you to destroy yourself.

there's this very specific type of person you get, which is someone whose rage and misery comes from their own narcissism. they are convinced they are smarter, better, more worthwhile than everyone around them, that everyone they know is a moron and a worthless person. but they themselves see no success and no happiness in their own life, despite the fact they feel they deserve better. and because they know they're the best person alive but they're also a failure by their own metric, they become hateful both internally and externally. obviously to some extent we all feel something like this, we all at one point or another get stuck in a shitty job or shitty class or shitty family that is holding you back and you're with genuinely bad people. but with this case, with this kind of real internalised hatred, your anger escalates outside of just immediate irritating coworkers, there's this genuine pure and unbridled hatred and rage for everyone around you for experiencing any kind of earnest and genuine emotion in the face of your own misery.

and that kind of mindset is an epidemic on 4chan, that each of them deserves more and that they despise anyone who feels anything earnestly. they're not really capable of escaping their own cynical hatred. unsurprisingly you see this a lot with white supremacists and misogynists, since most if not all 4chan users are also white supremacists and misogynists, where their whiteness and maleness should automatically make them the superior but they aren't successful and therefore there must be some other reason, some kind of conspiracy against them. there's this constant awareness on 4chan that the system is fucked but they're also unable to put the pieces together because of their own bigotry and their own refusal to see that they might be wrong.

it's interesting to me because on one level there's things I understand; i have been profoundly lonely and isolated almost my entire life, i feel disenfranchised by the terrible system we live in, i love the movie Drive. i can also sometimes understand the desire to make yourself as reprehensible to outsiders as possible, to become some kind of truly vile thing to make everyone who doesn't understand feel ill and uncomfortable and awful. but i also can never understand everything else, the deep-seated true venomous hatred for all humanity, the bigotry, the total close-minded determination to be miserable. it's like looking through some kind of hideous black mirror of what life could be like if i didn't grow up being taught feminist theory and anti-racism. because i don't think there's any single innate trait that proves you can or can't be one of these people, it takes effort. you have to work to expand your knowledge, to open your mind, to keep trying. you have to be able to accept when you're wrong. you have to choose to care about people.

but like i said i do read a lot of these posts and it is always fascinating to me how much these people try to escape their humanity but are so human in doing so. there's something kind of Sisyphean about it.

there was a trend back in the 2012s on here to talk about 4chan like it was full of leet dark hackers and at some points in time there have definitely been people on there who know how cybersecurity works and how to get around it, but as of this present year in the 2020s, the userbase seems to be almost entirely just the most pathetic, saddest part of humanity imaginable. i assume that has a lot to do with the shifting userbase, the website changing hosts and domains and owners, etc, and the different face of the internet now. mostly now i think they're just profoundly sad.

and its like. I do find these people fascinating. but they are also so fucking unbelievably mind-numbingly boring. they will never produce anything true or beautiful because they are so fucking scared of feeling and of people. they will just sit alone for their entire lives believing that if it's going to get better it will only be because of someone finally recognising their genius.

i don't know if you can or can't help them. I don't really see it as our duty to do so. if someone is a nazi for their entire young adult life i don't think any of us should have to fix that for them. I think if the system we live in is changed it will also make life better for them, because it will make life better for everyone, but i don't particularly want to assign the duty of "we NEED to help these poor racist white men" to anyone. i understand how people get in these positions but it's the same issue again and again. a total refusal to take any action out of a sense you should not be inconvenienced, people should hand stuff to you.

i have no real deeper conclusion here. i just find something really strange and interesting about looking at a post about seeing a beautiful spark of hope for humanity and knowing that that same person, the day before, wrote about how he intentionally shit himself in public to try and make a woman on the bus uncomfortable.

[missyasf]

Game Of Hearts

| 1 |

↳ Summary: Your life is in monotonous tones of grey, day in, day out. Nothing matters besides your sister, the only thing you remember is seeing fireworks before waking up to Tokyo abandoned . Soon enough you are properly introduced to the deadly Borderlands where you must fight for your life in Games to survive. When things can’t possibly get worse soon division arises and rivalries are made. No matter what though, you are constantly plagued by a blonde who, no matter how hard you try, just can’t seem to go too far without.

↳ Pairing: Chishiya/Reader

↳ Genre: Angst, smut, thriller

Word Count: 11k

___| Next

Trigger Warning: ⚠️ much like the manga/Netflix adaptation this will be a dark fic which includes mentions of prostitution, attempted murder, child ab*se, sexual harassment, heavy grief and attempted suic*de among other things. Additional warnings will be added for chapters when triggers are brought up. Please read with caution if these are triggers for you or just skip all together! 

Side mention: This could be considered a prequel to the current Alice In Borderland. I’m writing based off the Manga bc I was a glutton and couldn’t wait no spoilers will be present as of...

Escapism

noun

the tendency to seek distraction and relief from unpleasant realities, especially by seeking entertainment or engaging in fantasy ♡ 

You had known all about this during your short lifespan, as a child you’d often play pretend with your sister that you were movie stars living in a five star hotel rather than the shitty busted up apartment on the wrong side of town. Escapism came in, many forms. It was often a way for people to cope psychologically, simply because sometimes, facing the reality of your situation can be too much for one person to handle mentally. 

Or at least, that was the topic of your lecture today in class. The human mind always fascinated you. Even at the young tender age when your mom died and you watched your once cozy little family fall apart piece by piece until nothing was left in its wake. 

It was your fascination that drove you now for most things, why? Why, why, why? You always wondered what the motive was behind someone’s actions, not only thing but you wanted to  understand them better, to try and sympathize. You were already fairly intuitive in nature. It wasn’t difficult to read people. In fact your line of work made it easy, you’d watch a man who would be excited to be with you reach for his left finger as if used to touching something. A wedding band perhaps? 

The lowlife cheater was fairly common in a whore house after all. Or the man who had been pissy this morning behind you in line because you had decided to try something new on the menu and you weren’t fast enough, obviously because he was tardy and woke up late, his shirt unbeknownst to him was button the wrong way and his tie loose and even the way his hair fell were all signs of being late to work. 

It was the little things you noticed in people’s facial expressions, the way they moved and spoke. You could read people like a book, and sure sometimes it was useful. But you often wished you weren’t so perceptive. It drove you mad knowing when a potential love interest was no longer interested through a simple text or a friend not wanting to talk by their tone. Sometimes you wished you could just blot it all out, still, you lived like this day in and day out, you were used to this kind of thing and honestly. Friends? Love? Your gaze dropped a little to your feet, the pumps you were wearing a jet black and the heel too high for any respectable woman to ever wear. 

...It wasn’t like you ever had any of those in your life and you had struggled to come to terms with the fact that you could survive without that kind of support. Still...it made you envious, the couple happily holding hands on the sidewalk. The group of friends all laughing at a table while they studied. Oftentimes these feelings are muted, but when you’re faced with something you’ve always craved, those muted feelings suddenly become hyperactive in your mind. 

It’s pathetic, honestly. 

“How dare you! You disgusting slut!” 

In this moment however, you were brought back to reality at just what was happening, you squeaked loudly as you dodged the shoe the woman had thrown at you. This was all a regular occurrence, you had a lot of regulars who weren’t the most amazing people but hey, money was money. But along with them they also left a trail which their wives and girlfriends always followed. And then they always blamed you instead of their partner for leaving them for a prostitute despite you never having agreed to anything such as that.

It really wasn’t your fault, you were just trying to make a living while juggling with keeping up your own education, paying your fathers debts, rent and still somehow getting food on the table. What part time college job could provide that?

Prostitution wasn’t a job you would’ve gone into willingly but given the past and your trauma that was already laced in it you had been learning that sometimes because of the trauma we experience, sometimes people go back to that same trauma and actively participate in it as a way of feeling like they’re in control. 

That whatever happened before, would never happen again if you were in control. You weren’t sure if you qualified under this category, trauma came in many forms but the one most used as an example in your class was that a study showed that women who were assaulted often develop a kink for consensual non consent as a way of coping with what happened, except this time, it’s in a controlled environment where it can end the moment they want it too. 

Again, you weren’t sure you fell into this category, but you often wondered if your line of work was intertwined with your earlier memories when you were younger, if anything it brought comfort to you. Much of it, blotted out now simply because your mind couldn’t take it. Trauma expressed through amnesia was also much more common than many thought, and it’s so small, so easy to miss. After all how can you be aware of something if you have no memory of it anymore?

“Security!” Your manager screeched, two of the bodyguards were already between you and the feral woman who was ready to gut you clean as she screamed hysterically, her husband...your regular....at her side trying to get her to calm down only for her to come to her senses and slap him clean across the face. You didn’t condone violence, but he did have it coming...

You weren’t about to justify cheaters, you couldn’t imagine the hurt someone had to feel that not only did their partner cheat on them, but it was with someone...like you...You had been trying not to put down your job occupation, sex workers were just as valid as anyone else...you knew you would’ve thought this way if it was anyone but you in this position. 

You sighed as you ran your hands through your hair, watching the couple get dragged out of the tight space of the brothel, “Jesus christ....didn’t you say you stopped using perfume because of this?” Miki, your manager sighed as she crossed her arms. You didn’t want to say your manager was your friend but she was the closest you had as you’d often complain to her about most of your problems. Sex work often attracted broken people, it wasn’t something she wasn’t used to. 

“Yeah, but apparently he never got around to washing his clothes…” You wiped your mouth on the back of your hand, “Lipstick stain,” You glanced down at the ruby pink color that stained your skin now, “Fuck...that did hurt.” You rubbed your sore cheek that was still throbbing from where she had first slapped it when she ripped the door open of the room where she got to see with her own eyes you riding her husband. 

It had happened so many times now you weren’t even embarrassed about someone walking in let alone a partner. Miki gave you a lopsided smile as she patted your shoulder, “Guess that just pays for being one of the best here. Did you at least get paid.” 

You nodded, “Yeah, I always make them pay in advanced but I was hoping to get a tip afterwards...He was a lawyer so you know he had good money.” You sighed, crossing your arms, you were well aware of his partner because a lot of the time he didn’t even come in for sex anymore. It was funny how humans work. 

He often felt his wife was overbearing and you had suspected some sort of verbal abuse by the way he talked about her constant screaming. Truthfully, you don’t think he ever intended on cheating with her. He just wanted someone to talk to without being judged, you could relate with sympathy to that, but he unfortunately chose to walk into a brothel instead of a therapy clinic and this truly was the only inevitable outcome. Still, you hope if for anyone’s sake, he gets that divorce for himself. 

 “Hey I think I’m gonna call it a day. I need to get back to Nanami, she was wanting to talk to me about college applications.” You sighed as you rubbed your neck, ever since she had graduated high school she had been chomping at the bit to start applying for college, maybe to just get out of the house and into a dorm. You couldn’t blame her and if she did that it would lighten your load a little. 

Guilt washed over you at the thought as Miki chuckled, “They grow up pretty fast huh? My brother was the same way, except the moment he found out I was a sex worker was the moment he called me a whore and we haven’t talked since. That was probably about five years ago,” She crossed her arms as she sighed, “Crazy how the things we do for the ones we love, never appreciate our effort...I’ll see you tomorrow then?” 

“If I’m not bruising.” You offered a weak smile as you nodded at her before going back to your room to get changed. Truthfully, you much like anyone else, often wished you could go to a world where reality wasn’t a concept any longer. Where you could lay out in the sun for the whole day and just soak up it’s rays with no worries or trepidations. 

But sooner then later everyone had to face their fears. Even you, you supposed. But no matter how hard you fought your demons, they always came back tenfold. Again, you supposed your story was no different from tens of thousands, and yet you all live on regardless. Maybe it’s you who should be the one seeking therapy. Pulling on your jeans and the cropped top over your head before pulling the jacket over your arms and grabbing your bag. 

The walk home was as quiet as ever, your hood over your head and earbuds any unwanted attention, it wasn’t too late at night, only eleven PM and your work had just been getting started but that had ruined the night for you and besides, you had already failed a test today, you could use the sleep tonight. 

Occasionally you’d hear the sirens of  a cop car passing by or a bystander shout, nothing out of the ordinary in this neighborhood. Walking up to the apartment complex you pulled the key from your bag as you unlocked the door. Quietly stepping insides as you shut the door before locking it once more. Your nose wrinkled at the smell of stale air mixed with rotten...something…

If anything, you were always lacking in something, you had been so busy most of the day that you never had time to clean anything leaving the house in a horrible state. Not that you thought this was much of a house. 

Walking down the narrow hallway you opened the rickety door with a missing lock as you gave a brief smile to the small clump of bedsheets. Your sister was curled up and on her phone, eyes darting to the door with a hint of fear before she jumped up, “Y/n! You’re home earlier from night shift already!?” 

You offered a smile as you set down your bag and nodded, sitting down on the mattress that laid on the floor as you replied, “Yeah, a coworker needed the extra hours so I let them cover for me tonight. Besides, you wanted to talk about college applications?” Your sister was under the impression your late night job was bartending at some hole in the wall downtown, where in all actuality you just went there to drink a few days and talk to the loud and sometimes obnoxious, but good hearted bartender who loved talking about his nerdy underaged friends that couldn’t do anything beside stay and drink soda. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t think your sister would accept you, if she knew what you were actually doing. Fear, most times came in many different forms and this was one of them. You simply didn’t want to be judged, even by her. So nobody in your life truly knew who you were, and therefore, how could you hold the expectation for people to accept you into society if you were already self sabotaging yourself? 

All philosophy aside, you were simply a lost soul, looking for your way in the cruel reality called life. 

“Yes!” Nanami was chipper as always as she squealed, clapping her hands, “I…! I was thinking about applying to the university you attend! Maybe I'll get a grant and move into the dorms there? I already applied for several jobs, I’m just waiting on a callback!” 

You offered a small smile as you hugged your knees to your chest, “I think you’d like it there, there’s lots to do around campus. But what will you go in for? The only advice I can offer is be sure it’s what you want to do.” 

Nanami’s face faltered a little as she hummed, “Well...I thought maybe working with animals? I’d love to be an assistant surgeon in veterinarian? I know it’s a pretty...sad job but...I really like the idea of being able to heal such innocent things.” Your smile tugged into a gentle one at your sister. She was too tender for this world.

It had been your goal sense the day your mother died that you took care of your sister, it didn’t matter what happened to you. You could rot for all you cared at the end of the day, all you wanted was to look up and see your sister's smile and her happiness in life blossom. She more than anyone deserved it. 

“I think you’ll be great at it.” You encouraged as you rested your chin on your hand, always happy to see her bounce in excitement as you yawned, your body was used to your demanding schedule but it was always more than happy to welcome a few extra hours of sleep.”

Hearing the door loudly slam close caused you both to jump, Nanami hurriedly crawled back in bed, pretending to be asleep as you frowned. Your dad must’ve come back home from wherever he was. 

“Y/n! Just stay here! Can’t you talk to him later?” Nanami looked scared, she always did when he was around. But you weren’t about to stand down to the bastard any day of the week, you offered a weak smile as you replied. 

“It’s fine Nami, I’ll be just a few minutes.” You replied, you knew that she knew, that was probably a lie. But you’d try your best, for her sake at least. But somebody had to put this guy in his place occasionally and it was always you. It results in a lot of screaming sometimes, other times he’d break down in tears or on a bad occasion you’d get shoved to the ground, a few times hit. Nothing major. 

Walking out of the room you leaned against the wall of the entrance of the hallway watching your father stumble around in the living room, “Did you finally talk to the loan company?” You called out as you asked, not in a forgiving mood tonight. He had said he’d do this for two weeks in a row. The company that sank your whole family into the ground. The reason your mother couldn’t take it anymore and put a blade to her wrist. 

Your father stood up, looking a little wobbly, obviously drunk, “Now listen here little girl I don’t have shit to own to you or anyone else.” You sighed as you tucked your tongue into your cheek, annoyance flowing inside you as you straightened up. You weren’t going to be bullied into being scared of this guy. 

“Actually you do,” Your smile twisted into something more sharp, more bitter and sinister as you walked forward, “See, if you hadn’t of gotten involved in something shady like loan sharks we wouldn’t be drowning in debt and mom wouldn’t have killed herself because of you and both your daughters wouldn’t hate you. I know you drink away all our money in some pathetic attempt to escape from the cold reality that you fucked up your whole life and watched your family slip from your fingers while not even trying to do anything other then put us in further shit,” You closed your eyes as you tilted your head, “But the least you could do, is admit that. You owe us at least that for being a total fuck up.” 

You opened your eyes to find pure rage brewing in your fathers eyes as you smiled once more, this time a false sense of sickly sweet tone to it as you shrugged, “Or you could live in denial, at this point, there really isn’t anything you can do to get anyone back ♡ ” 

You had turned around, planning to tell Nanami that maybe she should go sleep over at a friends house today but you never got the chance, suddenly being slammed into the wall and flecks of spit hitting your face, “I am your fucking father! I deserve respect from you and your worthless sister! Do you know how much I provide for you both?” 

Anger splintered through your veins as you grabbed onto his wrists, his fingers digging into your neck as you squirmed, “Like fucking what!? A shitty broken down apartment that your vacant from because you’re too fucking ashamed of yourself to even look at us sober!?” 

Much like years in the past you weren’t surprised to hear Nanami cry as she rushed out of the room at the sound of you both screaming, “Stop!” She cried out, trying to break you both up, “Stop! Don’t fight! Why…! Why can’t we all just get along!” She sobbed only for your dad to shove her down making her curl up in defeat. 

Alarm bells were triggered in your head at the sight of Nanami on the ground, she had never actually gotten hurt while in your sight and it was triggering something deep inside you as you watched him stalk up to her. Your hands shaking and rage boiling in your mind as you grabbed the closet thing you could find. An empty beer bottle on the table. 

Your vision blurred and you don’t quite remember what happened other than glass shattering over his head and the brute force of you shoving something before blood was stained on your hands. 

How did you end up sitting against the wall? Why was there….blood on your hands…? Your fingers trembled at the metallic sticky substance. All you could hear were Nanami’s sobs and cries as she frantically pushed herself away from the body slumped on the ground. 

“You…! He…!” Nanami’s eyes brimmed with tears as you heard a loud boom making you jump, your eyes darting to the open window where….fireworks, big and bold crashed and crackled before you felt like you were sucked into a vortex making your whole vision black out. 

Your head felt fuzzy and there was ringing in your ears as you groaned, curling up into yourself as the darkness beckoned you closer before you forcibly opened your eyes. You were laying against the hardwood floor. Beams of light streaked through the window and you could see dust particles in the air against the shower of sunshine that streamed in. 

...Wait...Light? The thought had perplexed your head enough to make you push up from the ground, memories pulling into your mind as your breath became shallow, suddenly looking to the side where...you slumped against the wall. It must’ve just been a bad dream….your eyes flickered to Nanami’s curled up figure...a really vivid dream…? Something wrenched in your gut as you rubbed your eyes. What happened? “Nami…!” You whispered, forcing your muscles to move despite their protest as she whined. 

After another moment she reluctantly opened her eyes, flickering around before she suddenly scrambled up, taking a deep breath as if realizing what had happened before, looking towards where your dad once was she frowned, “...I...What…” She seemed just as perplexed as you and if her face was anything to go by, last night had obviously happened, “Is dad…” She looked at the absent place of the floor. 

Leaning against the wall your eyes darted around the room, “I guess so…” You silently felt relief at knowing your dad was still very much alive as you leaned back as you closed your eyes, trying to remember what had happened before everything went dark...oh..! The fireworks...had it been a celebration last night? Your brows pinched together, something felt...off...getting up you opened the door to the apartment walking out. 

“Y/n? Y/n! Hey! Where are you going!” Nanami called out, quickly chasing after you as you frowned, cars were parked odd and there was no one out on the street...as in...at all...Something was very wrong and you couldn’t figure out what. 

“Wow...it..must be a slow day…” Nanami felt a sense of discomfort at the lack of life as you both walked down the side walk, it didn’t just feel like a slow day it felt, apocalyptic. As if humanity just left on it’s own leaving nothing but an empty city behind. Cars were parked on the curb and a few even left in the street.

“No, it’s like everyone vanished...This is really weird.” You wrapped your arms around yourself as you frowned, looking around as you came closer to where typically it would be a booming part of the downtown but it was empty, just as everything before. 

“Well, maybe it’s a national holiday?” Nanami rubbed her head, trying to make sense of the situation just as much as you, surely everyone wasn’t...gone...right? She looked around as she bit her lip, second guessing herself at all the cars that were vacant, “Hey Y/n.” 

You paused as you looked at your sister, curving an eyebrow as she offered a weak smile, “What if everyone got raptured away like they talk about in christanity?” Your expression flattened as she giggled, obviously getting a rise out of you as you crossed your arms. 

Raptured? Where? To heaven? “Wouldn’t it be fire and brimstone then if that was the case?” Nanami pouted at your words as you shrugged, snickering yourself at her expression, the tables now turned as you sighed, “I don’t think there’s anyone left in Tokyo...I mean, it feels like...we’d have seen someone by now...right?” 

“Well…” Nanami frowned once more, a little disturbed at your words as she spoke, “There’s no way everyone could be gone I mean, where would they go? And how could we miss something like that...Maybe the police found us and now we’re under some weird simulation.” 

Chills spilled down your spine as you shoved her making her whine, “Don’t say that! That makes me feel all weird…! I didn’t…!” You cut yourself off, you didn’t what? Murder your own dad in cold blood...you looked down at your hands, they were free of any blood but it still felt like something like sin lingered. Like no matter where you went, it would always be stuck to you.

You didn’t like this, not one bit. Briefly you felt the urge to go hunt down your dad, he was a deadbeat but you would never...you’d never kill him....Right?

“Well…” Nanami hummed her eyes scanning ahead before they jumped to the mall that was up ahead, “Hey…! If nobody is here...maybe we could make use of it! Come on! Let's go!” You yelped at her grabbing your arm before dragging you ahead. Cars were all parked and yet not a single person exited through the mall's entrance. Something just felt off! You wrapped your arms around yourself as you warily looked around the empty mall, “Nanami I really don’t like this!” You looked around, concern bubbling inside you as she ran ahead into the store, digging through the section of clothes as she giggled. 

“Relax! I doubt any of this is real and even so…! Who’s going to stop us!?” She shrugged as she bounced in excitement, “Oh my god! I had dreamed of something like this happening! Now we can do whatever we want! Go wherever we want! Y/n!” She gasped with a smile, “Now we don’t even have to worry about money!” 

“We don’t even know if this is permanent.” You looked around warily, not partaking as she began plucking off the racks, “Regardless of what this is, I don’t like it. I want to go back home, our home. This just doesn’t…” You shook your head, “This just doesn’t feel right.” 

“Well you can feel that way!” Nanami clacked her tongue as she gave a childish smile, “But I’m gonna go through this whole store and get a new wardrobe so feel free to sit on the bench and tell me what you think looks good!” 

Looking away you sighed, unable to pinch the anxious feeling you had away as you sat down reluctantly as Nanami went into the changing room. Well...at least she was smiling and she was happy...With each outfit Nanami tried out and giggled, you giggled with her and maybe things weren’t so bad after all…

“What a perfect day.” Nanami hugged you close as she sighed, yawning as you looked up at the sky in awe, you had seen a single star while living in Tokyo before, but now it was filled with constellations and millions of stars that stretched for miles. You could stare at it for days and days. The sun had just set a little over half an hour ago and you were ready to retire and find something to eat at the apartment. 

You and Nanami had tried going to the food court but much to your dismay everything had been...rotten...soiled and ruined, meaning there was no point in trying to find anything there and you were getting really hungry despite devouring bags of chips you had both got at the convenient store, another thing that stood out to you was that there was no electricity...at all..

Looking back up to the sidewalk something caught your eyes...was that…! Light!? “Hey! Nanami look!” You shook her making her squeak as she looked up ahead, “It’s the hospital! They have electricity there which means there’s other people! Of course! Why didn’t we think to check essential areas!? Come on! Lets go! I wanna figure out what happened.” 

“Alright! It sucks that this is already over but at least I can finally charge my phone, the battery is pretty low.” Nanami nodded in agreement as you both made your way up the road. 

The walk wasn’t too far and you felt excitement fill you at the sight of the hospital all lit up as you walked into the entrance, a frown slowly setting on your lips once more as you walked past the receptionist desk and…! Oh there’s other people! 

You felt relief wash over your as you ran up, there were at least seven other other people here at least! “Hey! Guys oh my god. I thought everyone was gone! What’s going on?” You asked, smiling bright in relief that you and Nanami weren’t the only ones left behind. Was this some kind of evac point or…?

Silence ensued and you slowly began to frown as you felt everyone stare at you as if you were insane, “Um…” You wrapped a hand around your arm, suddenly feeling as if everyone knew something you didn’t, “What’s going on…?” You furrowed your brows as you tilted your head, unsure of why everyone was looking at you like this. 

Somebody looked like they were going to talk to you, a guy relatively around your age but a woman stopped him- his girlfriend maybe? “Stop, the less that know the better chance we have.” She said quietly though you still heard just enough. Fear twisted inside you as you took a cautious step back...The...the less you knew? 

“Wow, you guys are assholes,” A girl suddenly whistled out, she was sitting in a waiting chair, a cowboy hat on her head paired with distressed jeans and...a bikini top? Strange but you’d roll with it if it meant getting answers. She stood up as she offered a smile, “Akari, nice to meet ya’. You folk must be new to the Borderlands huh?” She jutted her bottom lip a little as you frowned. 

“Um I’m Y/n and this is my sister Nanami...?” You introduced yourself despite feeling confused as you raised a brow, “Borderlands…?” You echoed, what was that supposed to be? Other than Tokyo?

Akari gave a nod as she let out a brief chuckle, as if amused by your confusion but you sensed she had no real ill will unlike....your eyes checked to the couple that stood off in the corner on their own, “That’s what they call it here,” She nodded in affirmation as your eyes darted back to her in confusion, “To be frank with ya’, I don’t have a damn clue what's going on. Nobody does. But ever since you crossed the threshold there’s no going back, so I’ll be brief. We’re all considered outsiders here and we participate in games at venues such as this to extend our stay.”

Nanami and you looked at one another confused as Akari waved you over to the table in front of a TV, “Here, you’ll wanna put these on, it’s for the game.” She explained as you carefully picked up the metal bracelet, something about it felt ominous as you reluctantly put it on, jumping at the way it latched together and there was no getting it off now, “Word of advice, just don’t panic and you probably won’t die.” 

“What?!” You screeched as Akari smacked your back, panic evident in your voice as you turned around to face her making her laugh again, this girl was insane! She had to be! “You’re…! You’re joking!” 

Akari wrinkled her nose as she tilted her head, “Ah shit, I wish I was- Oh…! There’s the last player!” Just on que everyone turned to look at who had arrived, someone heaving breaths with their hands on their knees as if they had sprinted. You were mildly worried at why he seemed so scared but you had a feeling that was the least of your problems right now.

“Y/n what’s going on…?” Nanami frightened grabbed your arm as she hid a little behind you due to all these immensing strangers that looked like they were ready to feed you to the sharks, literally. 

The guy walked past you both as he put on his bracelet, your eyes sharp as you watched it latch together automatically, your gaze jumping to everyone's wrists to notice you were all now wearing one. The TV suddenly lit up. 

Game 

You squinted your eyes a little at the sight of the screen, just what were you about to unwillingly participate in…?

Difficulty: 5♣

“The game you will be participating in is, Monster under the bed.”

A playing card? Monster under the bed? Your brows furrowed as you looked at Nanami who shrugged a little despite her concerned expression, looking just as confused as you. You could’ve made a joke out of this, surely it would’ve been easier. Maybe everyone would bust out laughing and you’d be at the end of a poor joke but...somehow you felt that wasn’t the case. Thus paying very close attention to whatever was on this screen, 

“Everyone will be sectioned off into pairs by the number chosen on your bracelet, when the doors to the ward open you will have three rounds ten minutes each to figure out who is the monster under the bed that must be returned to its own, once the ten minutes is up you must hide before you are found. If the selected pair that is the monster is chosen correctly it’s a Game Clear.  If the monster is not found by the end of the third round or if the pair fails to hide it’s a Game Over.” 

Rules: 

Once the doors are open you and your partner must find a hiding spot by the time limit

Both partners must be hidden. If one is exposed to the monster it’s a Game Over for both partners

There will be an X marked on the ground to place the monster of your guess onto. 

You will have three rounds of ten minutes each to find the monster.

Any attempt to remove bracelets results in a Game Over

If the monster is not found by the third round a Game Over.

The only Game Clear condition required is for the monster to be returned by the third round.

What…

What!? 

“Now the game will commence, you have five minutes to figure out who you have been paired up with before the doors open.”

Your mind was blanking as you watched everyone look down at their bracelet, hurriedly you lifted your arm as your mind blanked 2 looking back at Nanami her lips were already quivering as she sniffled lifting her arm in defeat as your lips dropped open, 5.

“Hey! Guess you’re my partner!” Akari grinned as she wrapped an arm around Nanami who sniffled, “Oh…” She looked between you both, “Oh! Oh don’t worry! We’re not the monster so I’ll make sure your sister lives! You should go find your partner.” 

Your hands trembled unsure of what to do before you went to hug Nanami, “Whatever happens just stay calm okay! I need to go find my partner now!” You whispered, kissing her cheek as she sniffled while nodding. 

Everybody was shuffling around looking for their partner now, you passed by a few people, 4, 1, 3...did you even have a partner…? You scanned around, your throat tightening a little in panic, there had to be a mistake! There were only 8 people surrounding you- you yelped at the tight grip that suddenly held your arm forcing you to turn around to be met with a white hooded figure, a lollipop handle hanging and earbuds in before sighing, “So it appears I’m stuck with someone useless.” The man concluded as he stood up making you back away a little as your lips parted somewhat indignantly. 

How...how rude! You looked up, unable to fully make out his face but you could tell you didn’t like him one bit, “I’ll…! First of all I’m not useless! I’m just trying to understand what's going on! This is insane! We aren’t actually going to die from this, are we!?” Pushing his hood down you were immediately met with a snide gaze and cat eyes that leered at you like you were nothing more then dirt beneath his feet, long blonde hair pushed behind his shoulders and his bangs hanging low, suddenly a viscous side smile appeared on his lips, “Apparently so, otherwise I wouldn’t have watched half my last game get their brains blown out and the other half hung.” 

You reeled a little away from the blonde, your face dropped in semi horror, unsure if this was just a sick joke or he was serious. You searched his face a thousand times over, but for the first time in your life, you couldn’t figure out what his goal was. You couldn’t figure out anything about him, except he was exceptionally cold, “Well I don’t suppose I have much choice to doubt you,” He said with an annoying sing song tone as he rattled his wrist that showed the bracelet with a matching 2 on it, “My name is Chishiya, just stay out of my way and we’ll both live.” 

How arrogant! You scoffed as he walked past you, not the least bit bothered at your offense as you whipped around, glaring at his back. How come out of everyone you got stuck with the most…! Pompous! Arrogant! Ugh! You crossed your arms as you followed behind him, stilling secretly sending daggers into his back with your eyes as everyone shuffled into the ward. 

Hospital beds were scattered around the room, a few closets and one large vent at the bottom right corner of the room ahead. 

“Wait, what is this?” The first person to speak was a fair thin older gentleman, he appeared friendly as he observed the room around him, everyone looked around in confusion as you noticed what he meant. 

Any possible hiding spot was covered by either sheets of metal or locked tight...How were any of you supposed to hide if…!? The rules mentioned nothing about solving puzzles to gain access to a hiding spot!

“Forget that,” Another man said with a sneer he was broad and a bit older, well into his late twenties at least, perhaps a gym coach? Or maybe a wrestler of some sort? He looked like he could break you and nearly every other person in this room like a twig, “We need to figure out who’s the monster. “ He cracked his knuckles as you leered a little away and nobody spoke for a second. 

Of course, who would out themselves as the monster, more importantly, how does one even know they’re the monster? You could immediately feel tension rise as the previous, more patient man spoke, a little more collected, “How about we just check one another's’ watches! If anywhere it would show us on that! One pair should work on solving these puzzles here so everyone has a place to hide” 

“Unless the monster is among us and it sabotages us so we all die by the time limit.” The girlfriend crossed her arms as she darted her eyes around. Truthfully you didn’t know what to believe, the wording on the soundbox was rather confusing as to just what were you looking for. Was the monster supposed to be in the group or it’s own entity?

“If that were the case it would’ve showed up on our watches, which it didn’t. So that won’t work.” Chishiya spoke matter of fact, his tone cool as his eyes gazed across the room before he walked away from the group inspecting various hiding spots granted you didn’t think he was about to help anyone but himself, if anything you were at least lucky that him securing a hiding spot meant it was one for you as well. 

You looked at everyone in confusion, some arguing while others scattered to look for a hiding spot as the clock ticked down. You breathed in relief at the sight of Nanami and Akari both going for a bed to hide under. Your gaze finally found Chishiya’s form before following him, unsure of what you were supposed to do, if anything outside trying to figure out just what the monster even was. 

You glanced up at the digital clock that stood above the entrance you had just come in from, it was already a minute in before you searched the floor where you found a red X in the center of the room, that must’ve been the...what? Offering spot? You cringed a little at the idea. Looking forward you peered behind Chishiya’s shoulder deciding to not think about that, it seemed the metal sheet that had wrapped around the bed and was sealed to the ground was locked by some sort of metal device…? Contraption? Lock?

“Isn’t hiding under a bed a bit obvious…?” You frowned as you crossed your arms, unsure as you looked behind your shoulder once more to where accusations were already being thrown in the group. 

“The vent is a decoy to make you waste time, I already checked,” Chishiya replied, his fingers nimble as they rattled the metal, “And even if someone were to accomplish it in the time limit it’s the most obvious spot the monster would first check. Next would be the closet given it’s at eye level and the first thing one is drawn too when they walk into a room.” 

Your lips parted a little in surprise at his assessment...obviously he wasn’t just overconfident, “And why this spot?” If he had really thought about all this in less than a minute then...did he have a reason for this spot? You now found yourself, slightly less annoyed and a little more curious as to what was going on in his mind. 

“If the monster were to check a bed it would be after his eyes are drawn to the closet. Next in that line of sight would be the vent directly across it, which would be his next place to look if not his first and vice versa. The beds are all staggered throughout the room making them less conspicuous compared to the other hiding places, the bed on the far end of the room would be no good.” 

Your brows furrowed in curiosity at his assessment as you watched Chishiya blow a piece of hair from his face, wiggling out one piece of the knotted metal, “It’s too far from the entrance where as the one in the middle is by average the one most people would start with, where as the first? It’s almost too soon in the start to look there thus making it the safest.” 

“It’s them! They’re over there conspiring!” You both twisted around to watch the broad man point an accusing finger at you both as your eyes darted from him to the clock on the wall, which read at six minutes. A few other pairs, relievingly so was your sister had started working on a hiding spot while a few others stood around and argued. 

Your face coiled a little as you replied, not appreciating the accusation to such a baseless accusation, did they not realize the longer they argued the less time they had to secure a hiding spot? “Someone who’s terrible at playing the minority would often be the first to point fingers. There’s only six minutes left before the first round is over and we need to hide. But if you want to talk about this then sure,” 

You stepped closer as you crossed your arms, scanning over him before continuing, “Let’s talk about the chances of you being the monster, ever since you first came in you’ve been all twitchy and acting like something is wrong. Even when we first got paired up, you seemed a little panicked. Anyways,” You turned around as you spoke, “How do we know one pair is a monster and not one single person?” 

“Eh,” Akari sat on the bed that her and Nanami chose as Nanami fumbled to work out the puzzle, she had always been good at those! You felt assured as your heart beat frantically at the idea of them not being able to get a hiding spot in time, “Let’s all calm down,” She gave an awkward laugh, “This isn’t a hearts game, we shouldn’t divide our trust. This is a team building after all which means this game should be making us work together, the last thing we need to do is throw that away on our own accord.” 

“...Team building?” You frowned as you murmured having not been aware that this was some sort of game category...Hearts? Clubs? The memory of the playing card flashing on the screen appeared in your mind again, right...was that to stand for some kind of game genre? If Clubs stood for team building then...there should be no reason that the monster is any of you. Why would they even suggest that to begin with?

Then...what was the monster? 

“One minute remaining.”

The lights suddenly began flickering, “Got it.” Chishiya yanked the last piece of metal undone as he pulled the sheet of metal off, everyone was now scrambling and the few who had not done their puzzle were now panicking. Getting down you crawled under the bed, your back flat to the ground as you inhaled sharply as you noticed the lights beginning to dim, “This is...uncomfortable.” You mumbled, trying to ignore being pressed shoulder to shoulder with a man you didn’t even know besides him having a god complex, “We should’ve went with the vent.” 

“By all means, if you want to try and get yourself killed already. Go for it.” You turned to look at him, dark endless cat eyes meeting you as you harshly glared at him, why was he so condescending!? 

You were about to snap back something before you realized it was completely dark and the door slammed open causing you to jump. Was your heart always this loud? You could see the heavy boots step against the ground making you unsteadily inhale, swallowing as you closed your eyes. You could only place your trust that Chishiya hadn’t picked a horrible spot. 

More importantly your mind was plagued with worry for your sister, you had been so caught up you hadn’t even tried to help her yet...did she even…! You heard a sudden loud scream from two people causing you to stiffen as you looked up at the bed frame lined with wooden planks. You could only cower back down at blood suddenly painting the floor.

Your stomach suddenly churned as you covered your mouth. So he wasn’t lying. Chishiya however looked just as nonpulsed as he did when he first told you himself, his eyes blankly staring up at the bed frame as if this was just a regular game of hide and seek as people screamed as they were torn apart. 

Or that’s at least what you assumed it was. 

After an agonizing few minutes the doors finally closed and the lights flickered back on making you breath in relief as you waited a moment, could you even bear to face what was waiting on the floor? You winced a little before something caught your eye. What was with all this extra wood stuck in the frame? 

Chishiya had already gotten out from under the bed and before you suddenly heard a few girls scream, your sister among them making you puff and breath as you scrambled from beneath the bed.

Standing up your mouth agape at the horrid sight of the female and the broad male that had been too focused on accusing others, they didn’t have...enough time...it looked like they had been completely mutilated, blood pouring on the floor and the smell made you want to gag as you looked away. 

“Well, now what do we do.” Akari scratched her head, also not looking phased that two people had just been brutally killed. Your eyes stayed placed on the bodies before they slowly trailed to your hands, the memory of blood staining them still fresh in your mind. 

“Well we have to figure out where the monster is?” The girlfriend of the couple spoke up, she looked around somewhat suspiciously, “But I’m not sure where we could find it? Maybe it has to do with the bracelets? Maybe there’s a clue hidden.” 

“Oh what about in the cabinets?” The collected man from before offered as he went to search the cabinets, your frown furthered as you glanced around. Everyone was now getting along, still on edge but along at least. 

Chishiya only leaned against the wall, his hands in his pocket as he rolled the lollipop in his mouth, his gaze the same steely one it was before as if he had done his job in securing his temporary salvation and was now done. 

Or maybe he just didn’t know what to do? It was obvious his strength didn’t lie in teamwork, clearly. But then again, you weren’t sure what was going on, you couldn’t get a read on him. Crossing your arms you stayed beside him, your eyes briefly washing over your sister who was working Akari to dig through a desk together. 

“Cabinets and drawers are too obvious.” 

Chishiya’s eyes flickered to your figure, his expression just as cold if not...a little smug maybe? He said nothing in return as you continued, “If we’re looking for a monster, it’s obvious it’s a metaphor for something. Inanimate most likely,” Your eyes flickered around the room, inhaling sharply, why did it feel like the answer was right in front of you? 

Think…! You glanced at the clock, only six minutes left. The rounds were really short…! “It’d be something small and inconspicuous, something that’s in plain sight….but easy to miss...and the game said it was a pair which means there’s more than likely two.” 

“Three,” You glanced at Chishiya as he spoke, pulling the lollipop from his mouth, that permanent smug look on his face as he answered, “Two is what they want you to think and if you spend a round searching for each like they hope it’s game over by three.” 

You rubbed your neck as you frowned, “It’s already the second round and we haven’t even found one…” You glanced around before you suddenly perked up, “Wait…!” Getting back down on the floor you laid on your back as you pushed yourself under the bed, “Chishiya! Help me get this thing out!” 

Within a moment the blonde appeared as well, his eye sharp and keen as they noticed straight away what you were tugging at, “You think this is the monster?” 

You looked at him as you raised a brow, “We have less than four minutes left on our second round, you have a better idea?” Chishiya said no more but helped regardless, successfully with the both of you maneuvering it around from beneath the wooden boards you managed to get it out. 

Holding it up you looked at it, “It’s a poppet doll.” You turned to face him as you smiled in accomplishment, “They’re typically used as curses to place upon people in folklore. If anything is a monster, this would be it.” 

Excited at your first victory you pulled out from beneath the bed as you waved it up, “Hey guys! We need to start looking for something similar to this! If not a replica.” Everyone huddled around you examining the doll before the microphone sounded, “One minute remaining.”

Everyone had immediately scrambled back to their hiding place as you ran to the red X, placing the poppet on it, that's the reason that had to be there right!? You’d just have to see, hurriedly you ran back to your spot under the bed. Making it just in time as the lights flickered off. 

The door slamming open once more as you slowly inhaled, it had to work right? If not...then you were at a loss for what to search for and you were utterly screwed. 

The boots stomped against the floor past the bed as you closed your eyes, unable to calm yourself. After a moment you heard a screech and something rip open before screams followed making you jump. Chishiya’s eyes were on the feet that stood by the closet that had been obviously ripped open. 

You heard the sound of something wet and a gurgle before a body slumped to the floor and you could hear begging before something got snapped in half causing you to close your eyes once more...Did you make it angry!? Was that not it? Fuck. You had never felt this stressed before as it roamed around, passing in front of your bed as you tensed.

Was this your last moment alive? Truly? 

Much to your relief, the door closed once more before the lights followed, flickering on, relaxing a little you sighed as you reluctantly got out from underneath the bed with Chishiya to see what had happened. Much to your horror it was the man who had been so kind this whole game and his partner. 

The monster didn’t check anywhere in the first round, yet he did this round? You tried to block out the bodies slumped in the corner as you glanced at the red X, the poppet doll gone. 

“Why- why were they killed!” Nanami’s eyes began to water as she grabbed her head, “This makes no sense!” 

“If it accepts the doll that means we only need two more. What happened to them is irrelevant.” Chishiya stuffed his hands back into his pocket as you glared at him sideways, not appreciating his careless tone. You could deal with it, but you didn’t want your sister dragged into it. 

Grabbing your chin you thought about it for a moment, “Well...the game said to return the monster to its own and…” You glance down at the X, was there some kind of unsaid rule that if you didn’t get all three of them on the first try that it would start hunting down players? “How would a mother feel if they only returned one of its children?” 

“This thing doesn’t have feelings,” The girlfriend of the partners replied coldly, her eyes like steel of her own as she clung to her boyfriend, “It’s as he said,” She waved to Chishiya, “It doesn’t matter, we’ll be like them if we don’t figure this out.” 

You glanced around the room, “Tell me this, if it doesn’t matter, then why did they give us all these different hiding spots?” Everyone was silent, all eyes on you as if your question didn’t make any sense, your eyes flickered to the clock that was nearing eight minutes, you didn’t have time to monologue, “No think about it. The monster never intended to look for us- that was never stated in the rules. So why did they give us all of these choices if we only needed one per pair? My point being, if we found one poppet in our hiding spot then...You get where I’m going with this? Chishiya.” 

He glanced up at you acknowledgement as you curved a brow, your lips threatening to tug into a smile as you tilted your head, “How confident are you in solving that vent?” 

He glanced back down and for the first time, you watch a cocky wide smirk twist onto his lips, “You’re lucky to have someone as smart as me here to be able to open it.” You tucked your tongue into your cheek as in annoyance as he sauntered over to the vent already getting to work, “As for everyone else, we need to open up as many of these as possible to find the other two.” 

Everyone immediately scrambled to get to work, with only seven minutes on the clock this was...going to be difficult. First Nanami and Akari searched all the opened spots as you worked on another bed. Rubbing your head as muttered, “Shit...I never was good with puzzles.” You awkwardly hung your head in defeat temporarily, briefly letting your eyes shift to Chishiya who was fiddling with several locks, his gaze sharp and you couldn’t even imagine all the calculations going on in his mind. You were somewhat envious of what it would be like to be that perceptive to anything adhering to logic and solution. 

“Aha! Found one!” Akari yanked the poppet from the top of the closest as Nanami covered her mouth, looking like she was gonna throw up being so close to so many dead bodies. You ignored the grisly sight at the second victory of the poppet doll. Akari quickly placed it on the X as you began to work on the puzzle once more, looking up at the clock. Oh no...Oh no there was only three minutes left!

“Chishiya! Hows that puzzle coming along.” You called out, trying not to sound alarmed but you could see the clear cut annoyance on his face as he continued working through the locks, “If you’d like to help while struggling on a novice lock feel free.” He replied condescendingly, not appreciating the pressure. 

You rolled your eyes with huff as you finally managed to get it undone, feeling triumphant as you searched under the bed but there was no luck, “There’s nothing here!”

“Or here!” 

Several people called out as well as you rubbed your head, standing up, “If the only other place that hasn’t been searched is the vent then maybe there’s only two? It did say a pair.” You felt a lump of anxiety well in your chest at the sight of the clock ticking close to a minute and half. 

“Should we really take the risk?” The boyfriend asked as he rubbed his neck, concern on his face as he looked around, “If we’re wrong then we’ll all…” 

You hadn’t even thought of that…

“...! Hey.” You turned to Chishiya who seemed to be trying to get your attention making you immediately come over, if he was asking for you it’d have to be for something important given there was nearly less then two minute on the clock, “Hold this right here.” He immediately pushed your hand onto the lock right where he wanted it, “This is a two handle mechanism meaning that there needs to be two people unlocking it. Push down and out at the same time.”

“Hide! Everyone needs to hide now!”

The lights were beginning to flicker as everyone scrambled to hide, stress evidently put on your shoulders now more than ever. You could only hope he was right with your life on the line, “Now!” You pushed down on your side, the lock sliding as you pulled out, pulling a piece of metal holding up the lock directly out as Chishiya did the same with his side. 

The lock fell off as well as the metal of the gate of the vent, you immediately with no hesitation leaned inside it was dark and hard to make it out anything besides the steep drop off. So he was right, this was a waste of time for a hiding place. 

Looking down you caught sight of wood before laughing in relief, “It’s here! Wait shit! Chishiya! It’s too far down in the vent, you’re gonna have to lower me down to reach it. Time?” 

“Forty five seconds.” You felt unfamiliar hands on your hips lifting you up as you were lowered down, “We have time.” 

You squinted trying to see as you reached down, “Lower me further! I’m not quite in reach,” Your muscles began to ache in your shoulder as you reached harder, growling in frustration, “Time!?” You were lowered a little further, the wooden poppet brushing against your fingers. 

“Thirty seconds! Could you go a little faster?” 

“Could you lower me a little quicker- Ah! Hey did you almost let go!?” You snarled back, grabbing the poppet doll, giving a good yank as it lodged in between the crevice it was in, “Get me back up! I got it. Time!” 

“Twenty seconds.” Chishiya called back, pulling you up as you gasped, pain from the metal jabbing into your stomach evident as you were met with a darkening room. Setting your feet firmly on the floor your eyes flew to the flock fifteen seconds and your spot was all the way across the room….! 

“Where are we supposed to hide!? We can’t get all the way there in time!” You hissed out running to the X as you dropped the poppet down. The lights shut off as the final five seconds counted down and before you could do anything you were shoved to the floor as you squeaked. Your body throbbing in pain and your mouth immediately covered as you were met with the coverage of a bed but neither one of you were bold enough to try and scramble beneath it as the doors slammed open. 

Fuck.

Your whole body was tense as your eyes squeezed shut, you were just a little ahead of the X here, if this is all the poppet dolls...they’d have no reason to go further into the room...unless...Your hand squeezed tight around the wrist of the hand that covered your mouth as you tried to calm yourself at the loud thudded footsteps. 

It was quiet for a moment before you heard more walking before the doors closed. 

“Game Cleared”

The lights turned on as you fell limp against the side of the bed, Chishiya’s hand removed from mouth as you pushed your hair from your face, closing your eyes as you breathed in relief, “Holy shit.” Was all you could mutter to yourself, you had never been more grateful to breathe air in your whole life. 

“I guess you weren’t that useless after all huh.” Chishiya clacked his tongue as you turned your head to look at him, raising your brows as your face contorted into something between insult and amusement. 

You’ve only known this man for a half an hour and yet...something about his words, if you dug down deep past that smug expression of his, was this a compliment? Looking away you pressed your tongue into your cheek, trying to keep from smiling, “Yeah, and you’re still conceited and arrogant but, I guess you have a good reason to be.” You glanced back at him again but you could hardly hold his gaze, something in that brief moment was electrified between you both as you laughed somewhat sheepishly, closing your eyes as you looked away once more. 

What the fuck was even wrong with you? If this was back before today you would’ve totally kicked this guy in the balls and went about your day.

“Y/n!” You straightened up at the sound of Nanami’s voice, your expression brightening as you stood up, quickly running to her as you hugged her tight, “I can’t believe that just happened…” She whispered to you as she pressed her face into your neck. You couldn’t either but, you were thankful you had survived this game. Whatever it was. 

“Come on, let's get out of this room.” You tugged on her arm, no longer wanting to be in this death room despite knowing it was all over. Pulling her out you paused at the sight of the TV and a...register…? You bracelet unlocked as you took it off, tossing it on the table as you tilted your head. 

“Congratulations Game ''Clear ``.''

“...Now issuing visas to those who survived the game…?” You furrowed your brows as you glanced at Nanami who rubbed her head in confusion. You grabbed the receipt as you looked it over with a frown before picking up the 5 of clubs playing card along with it. Odd. 

“It’s how many days you’re allowed to stay now! Almost a whole week, that's a good score for a first game!” Akari called out as she patted your back making you jump a little. 

Almost a whole week…”Until we have to play again to...continue our stay?” You raised a brow, deciding not to ask what happens if you refused. While you had many questions, you had a feeling you knew the answer to that one. 

A part of you couldn’t even believe this had happened, or was it all still a dream. 

“Hey…! Sorry for all of that in there,” You turned to see...oh…! It was the boyfriend of the partner, the gifrlfriend stayed behind looking brooding, “I’m Ryu and that’s my girlfriend Hiroko I was...ah…” He faltered a little, rubbing the back of his neck as his gaze flittered to his girlfriend who was glaring him down, “You should stop by the Beach- I...I think you guys would make good additions! Bye!” He hurried not even finishing his original sentence before scurrying off making you furrow your brows at what he even meant. 

“The hell?” Akari raised a brow as she watched the guy run off, “Seems to me he wanted to chat more…guess we know who's really pulling balls in that relationship.” 

Nanami suddenly snickered, covering her mouth as she giggled, “Hey Akari! Why don’t we stay together! We did really well in the game together!” 

“Awh shit, if you guys really want me too!” Akari offered a quirky smile as you laughed, you had no problems with someone staying behind with you. Looking past Akari your smile faded a little at the sight of a white hoodie exiting the entrance. 

“Hey- I’ll be right back!” You pushed past the both of them who paid you no mind as you pushed out of the exit and down the stone steps, not sure why your feet were making you chase after such an egotistical man but…!

“Chishiya!” You called out, making the man pause, he turned around, pulling the earbuds out as he glanced up from his hoodie, raising his brows in acknowledgement, “Um…” Why did you even chase after him…? You stepped down the last step as you wrapped your arms around yourself. 

It was silent for a moment as you berated yourself internally for why you seemed so speechless all of a sudden. Chishiya however didn’t seem to mind, his eyes absent now as he stared up at the hospital, “I used to do my clinical rotations here.” 

You were broken out of your silent thrashing of internal humiliation as you raised your brows, lips parting in curiosity as you asked, “You were a doctor?” 

“No,” Chishiya snorted, that amused calico look of his on his face once more as he looked down at you, “I was a medical student. Training to be a doctor but that obviously didn’t happen…” His lips curved into a frown, his eyes cold once more as they looked back up at the building, “I came here tonight to see if anyone I knew would be here.” 

“Oh…” You looked away, feeling somewhat awkward and unsure of how to reply to him as silence took over once more beside the occasional rustling of the wind in the tree’s, the urge to speak overtaking you to the point you couldn't resist, “Chishiya...I…” You looked away, feeling somewhat bashful, “We...made a really good team back there.” You forced yourself to look up at him as you offered a bright yet subtly shy smile, “If you want...you could stay with us…?” 

Chishiya pulled the lollipop stick from his mouth, letting it drop to the ground as he spoke, “No thanks.” You turned to him in surprise as you frowned a little, you shouldn’t have expected anything less…

“Oh...I understand.” You offered a weak smile as he turned his back on you and began to walk once more, “I just have one more question,” You called out causing him to pause, “...Do you by any chance know about a place called the Beach?”

Note: Whew...! As a lurker in the Alice in borderland fandom I saw a lot of people complaining about the lack of Chishiya fics so I decided to volunteer myself and take on for the team to write a series for this little blonde fucker so PLEASE let me know your thoughts and I hope you enjoy!! Also

[httpbread]

hiii! didn't see if there was a character limit per rq, so if there is n i am breaking it just ignore me jabksbcjdj could u donthe general dating hcs for yumeko, mary and ririka too? thanks!

pairing: mary x reader, yumeko x reader

character limit has never crossed my mind until now lmao,,, also sorry i decided not to do ririka :( i love her i’m just not as familiar with her character so i dont think i could do her justice,, hope thats okay!!

-

Mary

- Mary avidly denies liking PDA but is almost always holding your hand. Whether she’s dragging you somehow, holding your hand under the table while she gambles with you next to her, or just trying to get your attention.

- for the most part, she’s a very confident girlfriend. She likes to take the lead and make you flustered and think she has you wrapped around her finger.

- until you compliment her. Or kiss her. Or hug her.

- Mary practically melts into a heap of embarrassment, mostly because she really enjoys it

- she never really pictured herself in a relationship especially not after the student council’s attempt to marry her off

- that is, until she met you, of course.

- she’s still trying to get the hang of the whole relationship thing though so you’ll definitely have to help her sometimes

- part of her wants to keep your relationship very private and never speak a word of it to the world

- and the other half wants to wrap an arm around your waist and yell at anyone who even glances at you that you’re hers

- not really in a possessive sort of way but more in a proud way

- she’s still shocked you said yes in the first place of course she’s proud to have you by her side!

- but sometimes she does dearly want to protect you from the world, and more importantly the school around you

- she’s terrified that one day the student council will target you and she won’t be able to win and has even debated on breaking up with you a few times just to keep you safe

- but when you wish her luck before a gamble...

- Mary really feels like she can win anything

- even though she’s scared to lose you, when you sit by her during a match she feels like she’s invincible. Especially when you take her hand discreetly under the table.

- Ironically, you’re like her good luck charm

- whenever you stay after school to watch her gamble, Mary always ALWAYS walks you home.

- she loves when you take her hand and swing it between the two of you sort of childishly as you walk along, talking about whatever had happened in the day and what you planned to do

- Mary never was one for small talk but she realizes she could listen to you talk for hours

- sometimes when you’re complaining about something she’ll get really into it and get feisty. sometimes even more than you. "I’ll go up there right now, dammit. Don’t you worry. I’ll make sure they never give you a problem again." "Mary no-"

- Mary discovers with you that she really loves sleepovers.

- there’s something about eating snacks and snuggling all night with you under too many covers that’s so relaxing to her. She doesn’t have to be big and bold. She doesn’t have to win or compete.

- with you, she can throw a piece of popcorn at your face and win at life watching you laugh or listen to you whine making her laugh

- she also, shockingly, really likes sleepovers on school nights

- that way she can play with your hair in the morning and get ready with you

- she loves walking you home from school but seeing you sleepy and sort of stumbling next to her really warms her heart. She thinks it’s funny to subtly bump shoulders with you as you trudge along. Plus the sunrise and the morning air is really nice, especially next to you.

- Yumeko sniffs out your relationship only on the second day you guys were official

- she’s delighted but Mary is dismayed

- Yumeko has claimed the title as her ‘wingman’ and now will often give her relationship advice and use you to tease her

- sometimes the advice is actually useful though... and it’s not the worst to see you making more friends... and getting along with her friends...

- but still. She tries to tell you Yumeko is nuts and you should keep away from her. It doesn’t work, but it’s worth a shot.

- Mary isn’t big on fancy dates. She’s more into casual stuff like eating together at the nearest shitty fast food joint. Mary would actually probably consider walking you home a date, unfortunately. But if it means spending time with you and making you happy, she’ll put in the effort to plan something a little more romantic every once in a while.

- this is really when Yumeko’s advice helps her out

- despite being kind of clumsy when it comes to romance and usual dating etiquette Mary does her best and she loves you very much

- she’s definitely always there to support you in everything you do and actively tries to be involved in your hobbies and see what you’re up to

- she’s also always there to stand up for you when others try and give you shit. You might have to drag her away because she has a tendency to get into full-blown arguments over even the slightest dirty look your way.

- Mary is doing her best.

Yumeko

- really hope you like gambling

- because her absolute FAVORITE thing to do is gamble with you

- would she use you as a bet?

- oh absolutely. no hesitation. but only when she knows exactly that she’ll win

- she thinks it’s cute if you get all nervous and even hotter if you’re confident in your gambling skills

- she’s actually a little sour when you can’t make it to one of her matches. not towards you but towards everyone who isn’t you.

- Yumeko is a freak for PDA tbh

- ALWAYS has her arms wrapped around you in one way or another. She feels like a snake trying to strangle you sometimes. she means well she just loves to love on you 

- could not give any less of a shit who sees. Will blatantly ignore anyone and everyone because you are her partner and she loves you very much.

- she’s a very enthusiastic girlfriend.

- always trying to do wild things to spice up your relationship. would absolutely suggest things like skydiving as a casual date. it’d be like a back and forth debate to finally get to a more calm medium date like a fancy restaurant or something.

- Yumeko doesn’t actually mind where you two go, she just likes to mess with you sometimes. She keeps you on your toes.

- not only is she super PDA friendly she flirts shamelessly with you all the time. She loves watching your reactions. 

- she also really loves to have you sit in her lap while she gambles. no matter how long the match is. 

- Yumeko likes to bring you to the mall to go shopping. Sometimes she tries to be sly and buy you things without you noticing but Yumeko has never been subtle a day in her life when it came to you.

- but also after a long day in the mall she always buys you ice cream and sits on the edge of the water fountain. It becomes a tradition to make a wish, even though it feels a little silly.

- Yumeko wouldn’t really go out of her way to keep you away from the student council but she would get heated fairly quickly if one of them tried to challenge you. She takes your place every single time and it is never followed by a pleasant atmosphere in-game.

- after something like that she definitely takes you to do something off-campus if not just straight to her house to just snuggle and take a nap

- Yumeko thrives off praise from you. She loves when you fawn over her with compliments and congratulations when she wins a match. She can’t stop beaming when you kiss her cheek and tell her she’s amazing.

- she definitely praises you a lot though. She thinks you’re the most interesting person she has ever met so of course, she thinks the world of you, and she is NOT afraid to show it.

- Yumeko loves you and she’ll be damned if you and everyone and their mother doesn’t know it.

[yourcoffindoor]

Bulletproof Heart Pt.4

AN: YAY its finally here! Thank you so much to everyone for reading and for your patience! This is the final part of this series. enjoy <3

"Y/N?" a gentle tap on the wall outside your bunk. It was Liz. "We have an interview with Spin in like 5 minutes."

You groaned and pulled your wrinkled sheet over your face, turning away from the sound of her voice, soft and hesitant as though she were afraid the slightest noise would shatter you further.

"You guys go without me," was your muffled reply, "I've hogged the spotlight enough anyway."

" Are you sure? They'll probably be pissed the lead singer isn't there."

"Then let them be pissed."

Liz lingered in silence for a moment before deciding it was best to leave you be. It had been a couple of weeks since you'd found out about Alex's little foray into filmmaking, and a gush of old trauma had emerged new again. All the work you had put in to rebuild yourself and to forge a new life had all but crumbled away in a matter of minutes, and you isolated yourself in response.

You stopped leaving the bus because of the stares. Once rumors had gotten out that there was video footage of you doing the deed, people seemed to glance over at you before whispering insidious somethings among their companions. You didn't need to hear their conversations to know just how humiliating their words were. Things took a turn for the worse when reporters began to have the audacity to ask you about the video, probing into if you were in a relationship with Alex. It was then that you realized he had sabotaged your moment, your success, and made it all about him.

You began to miss a few shows, something you had never done before. But you just couldn't bring yourself to give a damn. Your bandmates kept their distance, realizing you needed your space; but their concern was permanently painted on their faces.

"Hey Y/N," Gavin spoke hesitantly one afternoon, "You know...Gerard's been asking about you."

The sound of his name made your heart beat quicker. You hadn't made an effort to see him since the video came out. "Oh?"

"Yeah he really wants to see you. He's worried about you...we all are."

"I'm fine." you said curtly. "I mean, tell him not to. I'm fine. I just need to be alone."

"You sure? I think some social interaction might do you some good--"

"Gavin, I want to be alone. Please."

He merely nodded before heading out the bus door, finally giving you what you asked for.

Out of respect for the fans, you managed to pick yourself for performances again, but it felt like you were merely going through the motions, your passion nearly extinguished. You became angry at yourself for feeling this way, like you were giving up on yourself and your goals. Between sadness and guilt, there was no bright side you could look to as an escape.

Then, you ran into Alex.

This was what you had really been dreading. You knew how smug he must be, knowing he must've gotten under your skin, his favorite place to be. You'd snuck out of the bus for some much needed fresh air, but you didn't need to go far before you heard your name being called.

"Y/N! wait up!" a chill shot down your spine. You didn't turn around. Instead, you began walking faster.

"Hey, hey, hold on a second--" He grasped your arm, but you pulled it back so quickly it seemed to surprise him.

"Leave me the fuck alone."

"C'mon don't be mad."

You couldn't help but laugh at the nerve of his comment. "How could I not be? I didn't even know you had filmed me. I didn't get to agree to any of this! And then you decide to make it public? And you," you said, angry tears building up to a waterfall, pushing a fist into his chest, "you are a nightmare that won't go away! Why can't you just leave me alone?"

Alex was calm-- So calm that it only angered you further. "You're thinking about this the wrong way. The publicity could be great--I mean people are already eating it up. They love us together. Honestly? I did us both a favor." He smirked, making your skin crawl. "But there's something else, Y/N. Something you should remember." He leaned forward, speaking into your ear in a low, serpentine voice, "This is what happens when you think you can go off and make something of yourself without me."

You were speechless, your stomach dropping as if it had been kicked. "You're disgusting. I'm leaving."

"Going to see your friend Gerard? Hey, ask him what he thinks of our movie for me. I'm making another one with some My Chem fans anyway." He spoke to you with your back turned, already walking away, but you could hear him smiling.

You halted in your steps, torn between slapping Alex across the face, crying, or simply walking away. After a deep breath and far more self control than you knew you possesed, you chose the latter, swiftly walking back towards your bus to isolate once more.

****

The sun was revolting.

That was the first thought when Gavin flung open the curtain that marked the border of your bunk, your own personal ecosystem that no one had dared enter for the past few weeks. He kneeled on your mattress and reached over you to open the blinds on your wall, and you winced as the sun struck your face like a laser.

"Merry Christmas, Y/N!"

"Gavin, its August."

"Well it might as well be Christmas when you hear what I have to tell you."

You groaned and rubbed your eyes. "What is it? I'm prepared to be underwhelmed."

"I didn't even need to open that window! There's that bright and sunny optimism we've come to know and love."

You hit him with a pillow. "Out with it."

"Alex got--"

"ALEX GOT KICKED OFF WARPED TOUR!" Liz shouted, bursting into your bunk from out of nowhere.

"What the hell Liz! I wanted to tell her!"

"Too slow!"she teased.

Your head was reeling. "Wait, wait, wait....what? How?"

"Don't know all the details but it definitley had to do with his...activities. Turns out he was asking underage fans to flash him and his band to get backstage and shit. Someone snitched I guess, thank god. The whole band's been kicked off and banned from Warped tour.

For the first time in forever, you laughed.

You practically cackled. You laughed so much that it felt like you couldn't stop.

"I think we broke her." Liz muttered to Gavin.

"That's fucking amazing." you said, wiping tears from your eyes.

"It is, and its good to hear you laugh again." Gavin said. "Come out with us later, to celebrate."

"I will sometime, but I'm still not quite ready. People are gonna try to ask me questions, I just know it. I'm still not up for it."

Liz and Gavin nodded. "We'll be here when you are."

***

Later that afternoon a few quick knocks sounded from the bus door. You debated getting up to answer it, but human interaction was the last thing you wanted right now. There were a few more small knocks; and you able to ignore the unwanted visitor until, after a moment of silence, something slid under the door. Once you heard their footsteps disappear into the distance, you peeled yourself from your nest on the couch to investigate.

It was a white envelope with your name scrawled across the front. You hesitated for moment, wondering if another piece of your past was about to jump out and bite you. But after steeling yourself you pressed on, your fingers swiftly retrieving the mysterious contents.

You immediately smiled. It was a card with a drawing of you on the front, in a style that was unmistakably Gerard's. You were on stage wailing into the mic, confidently waving your middle finger. You couldn't help but laugh.

Fuck em all. The world needs you out there. If you're feeling up to it, come to our set tonight.

Hope to see you there.

-G

You closed the card and reveled in the much needed buzz of happiness it gave you. Gerard. You thought he would've have been angry with you since you had all but ghosted him these past few weeks, but that clearly wasn't the case. Your legs wanted to run after him, but you as you were covered in dorito dust and sadness, you decided to stay put. You'd make yourself somewhat presentable and then see their performance tonight.

***

You stood just off stage,  just hidden enough in your oversized hoodie to feel comfortable. Right before they began their set, Gerard turned and saw you, eyes widening with a glad surprise as though he hadn't thought you'd actually come. His expression quickly melted into a welcoming smile, and you couldn't help but break out into soft grin of your own.

The band greeted the crowd, already energized and cheering them on. You'd expected them to launch into a song, but instead Gerard began speaking.

"This is a special set tonight guys, because someone very important to me is here. Someone so strong, so kickass that sometimes I wonder if she's even a real fucking human being." He glanced over at you, eyes electric and impassioned, immediately i heat rise to your shrouded cheeks. "Well some asshole tried to hurt her. Tried to make her feel small. But I want her to remember she's too fucking amazing to ever let someone make her feel that way."

You could feel the sting in your eyes as tears began to build.

"And that goes for all of you out there, cause these same assholes have been messing with fans too. So if you ever see shitty ass rock dudes in shitty ass rock bands asking you to show them your tits for backstage passes, I want you to spit right in their fucking faces and yell 'FUCK YOU!”

The crowd went crazy, and you couldn't help but let out a small cheer as well, despite the tears streaming down your face.

"Y/N," Gerard breathed, "This is for you." and with that, the band launched into one of the most passionate sets you'd ever seen. You stayed for it all, loving every moment. As soon as it was finished, Gerard thanked the crowd and made a beeline off stage, directly where you had been stationed all evening.

His eyes were dancing with happiness at the sight of you, pumping with the adrenaline of performing, sweat still dripping from his dark hair. "Hi," he said,pausing for amoment as though he was holding back from so much more, "you came!"

"After the invitation I received? How could I not?"

"So you liked it?"He beamed, his cheeks, pink from exertion, reddened further. "I wanted to do like a mini comic but I ran out of time." As he grinned, fresh crimson gleamed from a small split in his lower lip. What you thought had been makeup turned out to be a genuine injury.

"You're bleeding." you observed softly.

His brows furrowed in confusion, a finger darting to his lip. He dabbed it, smearing blood onto his chin.

"Damn, again? Don't worry, it's nothing."

You didn't hesitate to grab a tissue from your pocket, step forward and gently press it against his cut. He looked down at you with affection, causing you to look away as your heartbeat picked up its pace. Instead you analyzed his face and noticed it was patterned with small bruises.

"Doesn't look like 'nothing' to me. What happened?"

It had been just the two of you speaking intimately just off stage, but crew and media began pouring through and milling about the area. You realized just how close you were standing to Gerard, and pulled your hand back when you noticed people watching. A pew passerbys patted Gerard on the back, offering their compliments of the band's performance. He quickly thanked them, barely turning his attention from you, afraid you might run off. He grabbed your hand, leading you to a quiet area.

"I may have gotten into a fight."

"What!? You don't even leave your bus, how did you get into a fight?"

"I had to. Someone very important to me was being hurt."

You stared at him for a moment, putting the pieces together in your head. Gerard knowing about the video, Alex's sudden departure from the tour...

"Gerard, you didn't."

"I did, and I'd do it again, Y/N. Besides, you can't say he didn't have an ass-kicking coming to him."

You let out a soft laugh, but your vision began to blur as tears welled. A swirl of emotions welled inside of you, tumultuous and much more than you had anticipated feeling tonight. You were touched that Gerard was so concerned about you. Embarrassed that he had to get involved at all. Glad that he did, after all.

At the sight of your tears, he stepped closer. It was him now who tenderly wiped your face, brushing away stray tears with his thumb.

"Jesus, Y/N, I can stand a few punches to the face but I can't stand seeing you cry."

That was all you needed to hear to get oceans pouring from your eyes instead of streams. You embraced Gerard, burying your head into his shoulder. Gerard folded his arms around you in response.

"Y/N I want to tell you...I mean I hope you know...just how important you are to me and how I feel about you. You deserve to be happy."

"You're so nice to me that I almost don't know how to process it." you admitted beneath an awkard, tear-ridden laugh. "Thank you. You need to know you're important to me too. I..I just--" You planted an aggressive kiss on his cheek, unable to express your myriad of emotions in words.

"There, I think that expresses everything."

"Everything?"Gerard asked, brushing a strand oh hair behind your shoulder, "There's a few points I'd like to add."

His hand cupped the side of your face and your lips met, softly at first, a salty mixture of tears and coppery blood. The kiss quickly deepened, caught in your own world, unable to get enough of the taste of each other. That is until Gerard winced and pulled back, blood dripping from his lower lip. His cut had only deepened from your exertions.

"We'll have to postpone this until that's better." you said, handing him another tissue.

"Damn. Kinda regretting that fight now." He laughed.

"Don't regret it. Besides, its not an entirely bad look on you." you teased.

A bashful expression crossed his face as he brushed his hair back from his face.

"I hate to say it but I have a press thing to do in a few minutes with the guys. Meet me in my bus later?" He said, offering another peck on your cheek.

"I'd be crazy not to." you replied, ambushing him with one final hug before he walked off.

You realized something immediately. Despite everything, the heartache, the surprises--you regretted nothing. And as you lifted your fingers to your lips, still buzzing from impact, you knew this had been a tour that changed your life, after all.

Tomorrow, you'd be back onstage, ready to begin again.

Taglist: @pacifymebby​

[tigerdrop]

hey i just wanna say the long posts genuinely make my day. also can you talk more about gordon freeman character because the way you write him makes me quake in my gay little boots

i would love to talk about gordon freeman. thank u for the opportunity

the first thing i need to communicate about gordon is that this dude sucks. and i say this in the fondest way possible. he is a bitch from the moment he drops into the world until the moment he goes out. if you dont believe me, give it another watch! gordons mouthy and rude for no real reason, at least so far as “being a regular dude on his way into work” goes, and this dude goes around calling his coworkers names with zero provocation. (of course, we all know that the reason is because its a funny guy improv stream that borrows a bit from freemans mind, but im talkin from a character sense.)

but my argument isnt just that gordon freeman sucks. its that he sucks in a very specific way that i find insanely endearing. i love this dude. i love to hate him. hes awful in a very mundane sense - weve all known a guy like this, at least if youve spent too much time online - and its cathartic to watch him suffer because of it.

gordons a smart guy. as written, hes gotta be - hes a recent MIT grad, on his way to work at a top-secret research facility to do weird shit with crystals and theoretical physics. but the thing about smart guys is that theyre often......selectively intelligent. we can see this in the way that he has a hard time navigating his surroundings, and needs the science crew to guide him through it and keep him alive.

this is one of those things that is a natural consequence of somebody going through the game for the first time, but that i am interpreting as “gordon is kind of stupid sometimes”. its uncharitable but its not like he doesnt deserve it. he likes to boss around the crew as if he knows what hes doing, when he often very much does not, and is fond of demeaning their intelligence. hes real bad about this with tommy in particular, treating him like hes a kid whos playing at being a scientist when tommy is actually a decade older than him. all i am saying is that gordon ought to stay humble. hes awful cocky when he perceives himself as better than others.

which, i think, tracks with how cocky he gets when he gives up on the whole “well-meaning citizen” thing and just unloads bullets into people. he puts up a front of being a Nice Guy, you know, just some dude caught in a bad situation who doesnt like seeing his companions obliterate every NPC they come across, but that doesnt stop him from cackling like a fucking madman and mowing down aliens (and soldiers) every once in awhile. when he stops seeing himself as helpless and starts seeing himself as the one in control, the gloves come off. he gets mean. and i think thats very sexy of him

this, among other things, is why i am insistent that gordon freeman is a control freak. he desperately wants to be in control of the situation at all times, shepherding around the science crew primarily by bitching at them, but its of limited success. its futile. sisyphean. tommy, coomer, bubby, and benrey exist almost to torment him with exactly the thing that would make him suffer the most: a gaggle of people running around causing problems for him, but he cant go anywhere without them b/c hes reliant on them to make it out alive.

its perpetual suffering, and its cathartic to watch. and funny, too. and if youre a little weirdo like me, its very, very enjoyable. how twisted up he gets when nobodys listening to him! how sweaty and frazzled he must look. its cute, and it also makes me want to reach through the screen and shake him and tell him to just be a little nicer. he wants control but he doesnt know how to attain it, he doesnt know how to play nice like a real leader. i think its a neat contrast to gordon freeman as we know him in HL2, where he literally is the leader of the resistance and has to live up to it. this is gordon freeman but if he was moe through helplessness.

“helpless” is, i think, a great way to describe him. a core bit of imagery in half life is this sense of railroadedness and helplessness, with gordon freeman being put into play like a chess piece and having no choice but to move forward. and this iteration of gordon leans into that by being totally dependent on the science crew in order to make progress and Not Die. and hes also subject to the whims of benrey, local eldritch weirdo who has basically made it his life mission to fuck with gordon.

gordons anxieties dont help with that. if he wasnt so fun to stress out and fuck with, the science crew probably wouldnt do it so much! too bad for him that they like fucking with him so much that he was driven into a panic attack (multiple times, even, depending on your interpretation). hes got that real neurotic mindset. always worrying about shit that could go wrong, and attempting to exert control over his surroundings in an effort to control the anxiety.

IMO the real way to nail the Neurotic Gordon Freeman Experience is to combine the ever-present anxiety with his pervasive sense of self-loathing. he openly states that he has no friends and nobody seems to like him, and to that, i really gotta say, i wonder why. he doesnt really seem to factor in that hes kind of a bitch, and has way too high an estimation of his own intelligence relative to everybody elses. its really one of the worst ways to be: aware that people dont like you, but unaware of exactly why. if he was like, 10% nicer, he probably wouldnt have had half as many issues getting through black mesa, but also, its funny to see him squawking his way through the game. so, you know.

its stuff like that that makes me headcanon him as a dude with low self-esteem in general. convinced that hes not likable, not attractive, out of his element......impostor syndrome, except that theres some truth to it. this is a guy who truly does not realize how good he has it: he really is just an average shitty dude, and yet, somehow, benrey took a shine to him. some poor motherfucker out there actually likes him and wants to suck his dick. thats dedication

also, i keep bringing up “repression” when i talk about gordon. and hopefully, what ive been talking about helps explain why. he has a strong desire to be a regular dude, not just murdering his way through black mesa, but if hes pushed hard enough he leans into it. gets bossy. picks up a cigar off a dead soldier and takes a long drag, before smacking forzen around with a pistol and ordering him around. gordon freeman is a regular, kind of anxious guy who likes competitive swimming and streaming on justin.tv and making anime references, and he is also a guy who takes a filthy pleasure in making a trained soldier his bitch. and i didnt make up any of this shit - this is purestrain canon, baby. this is a guy with problems

to me, this screams the kind of guy who represses a lot of shit b/c he doesnt feel like its morally decent. you run into this guy a lot online: the wokeboy, the online leftist, the guy who spends too much time on social media websites. (like reddit. i think he would actively use reddit and he would never get any appreciable amount of karma but he never stops posting. its sisyphean! cathartic.) from the way he talks about “bootboys”, i think it tracks. he knows about imperialism, he knows about feminism, but at the end of the day hes your average american white dude who struggles with internalizing it.

a lot of those dudes struggle with sex and gender issues. (dont we all.) when youre trying to be a Good Person(tm), you spend a lot of time thinking about your own relationship to sex and kink and all that shit. and i maintain that a too-online dude who buries a lot of his control freak tendencies would also try to bury a lot of weird sexual shit in an attempt to seem Normal and Well-Adjusted and not like a little freak. i justify this by the sheer number of times gordon blurts out weird sex shit as a joke. there are only two outcomes to making that many piss jokes: either youre secretly a piss guy, or you lathe-of-heaven yourself into becoming one. i will stand by this

ive talked a lot about why this dude sucks. now, let me talk to you about what makes gordon so much fun to write. first things first: hes funny! a subjective evaluation, yeah, but both in- and out-of-character, hes aiming to be funny. and being the straight man to everybody else plays into that whole “helplessness” thing.

secondly: underneath it all, there is a good dude under there. gordon worries when his companions get hurt, he tries to clean them off and patch them up, and hes got his lil leftist heart in the right place. you could even read a lot of his bossy, bitchy demeanor as him wanting to make sure everyone gets out okay and doesnt hurt themselves. when it comes to animals and anti-imperialist sentiment, gordons a pretty good guy.

hes the kind of guy who would probably see a dog on the street and get excited and play with it, but would get really prickly about the correct way to put dishes in the dishwasher. control freak tendencies.

finally, subjecting such a miserable, tormented guy to even more psychological anguish is really, really fun. you feel a little bad for him, but he kind of deserves it. so many problems he goes through are purely of his own making, and if gordon would just relax and quit trying to hard to maintain control - of himself, of the people around him - and own up to having Problems and Issues, he would be a happier guy. but thats why its fun to bend him until he breaks. being a little control freak myself, putting gordon freeman thru psychosexual torment is cathartic.

when it comes to writing his thought processes, the fact that he is canonically some kind of psychotic (yes, i am boldly claiming this. suck me) and i am also canonically some kind of psychotic makes it easier to write what i think his thought processes are. i just give him my brain issues of “getting lost in thought” and “overthinking fucking everything”. a touch of paranoia helps. even if i dont explicitly label him as schizophrenic please know that i am writing him as a paranoid little nutcase at all times because, uh, you write what you know.

paranoid. anxious. of the mindset that everyones out to get him (which isnt helpful when everyone is out to get him). repressed and deeply Not Normal but trying so very fucking hard to be normal and well-adjusted. a control freak with sadistic tendencies who also really, really likes getting bullied by his best frenemy. a hapless little nerd who sounds really cute when his voice starts to break from nerves. and, most importantly, a dumb jock. do not ever forget this.

thats gordon freeman, babey. hope that helps

[kindalollipop]

☽★☾  Midnight Love ☽★☾

Paring: Bakugo x genderneutral!reader, Todoroki x genderneutral!reader

❝ Warnings ❞: past toxic relationship, fluff, swearing, basic angst, maybe bad grammar (English is not my first language), lightly sexual activity

ℋ Format: Headcannons (hcs)

♡ Word count: 1.161 words

♬Song based: Midnight Love by girl in red, Play Date by Melanie Martinez, Bittersweet Tragedy by Melanie Martinez

✾ Summary: You were in a toxic relationship where the person used you as a toy, playing with your feelings. These cute bois find what happened with their (secret) crush and aren’t happy with it.

Bakugo Katsuki

➳ Really, why? What did you do to deserve such pain and emotion conflicts? It really didn’t make sense.

➳ You were tired of crying every time you would remember how they toyed you. But, what can you do? MoVe oN? It’s not that simple.

➳ You wish though. Whatever happened, you couldn’t forget all those oh-so-sweet memories of you two doing nothing, just goofing around, and yet you were having the best time of your life – even without realizing.

➳ You felt like nothing could tear you both apart, not even when they didn’t really have much time to you. Or when you marked a date and they didn’t show up with some lame excuses, every. Fucking. Time. Or even when you woke up with an empty spot, that technically was from someone.

➳ Sure, it was a bit odd and frustrating, but how love blinds you.

➳ At least your friends were there for you, even though you didn’t really tell them what was happening, because you don’t want them worried.

➳ Well, you were very wrong if you thought that at least one person wouldn’t find out.

➳ Let’s say that Bakugo wasn’t exactly happy – when was he anyways?

➳ But his rage was abnormal. The boy was literally seeing red and blasted everyone who dared to cruise their paths with him – but you, of course.

➳ When Bakugo found what you were going through, he was shocked, how could someone toy with someone so special, amazing, badass, wonderful—ok, maybe that’s a little too much- like you?

➳ But he really didn’t get it.

➳ Obviously, he would fight the fucker who did this to you. It doesn’t matter, girl, boy, or whatever they are, good trip to tHE FUCKING MOON.

➳ After Bakugo blasts them to somewhere still unknown to the humanity, he began to take care of you with small actions, since he’s not the best one with words.

➳ Giving you some water from time to time because “you were dehydrating from being such a cry baby”, cooking and giving you “what has left”, letting you hug him (even with some threats, he didn’t really mean it), petting your hair, etc.

➳ Slowly, you two were getting closer and closer, and he began to haunt your dreams and thoughts all day- you knew you were falling in love for him. Fuck.

➳”DO YOU WANt to go on a ᵈᵃᵗᵉ ʷᶦᵗʰ ᵐᵉ?” his voice downed as he spoke, cheeks blushing furiously while looking down, not wanting to face because of the fear of a rejection. You probably didn’t want to engage in any romantic relationship for sometime after all you had been through.

➳” IT’S HAPPENING GUYS. HE’S ASKING ME ON A DATE AND GOING ON A DATEMEANSTHEYLIKEYOUANDWANTTOREALLYDATEYOUHEWILLBEYOURBOYFRIENDANDIKNOWHEWONTFUCKTHINGSUP AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA”

➳ It was what you thought, but you only answered with a simple “Sure! What about 6 pm tomorrow?” you gave him a bright smile, trying to hid your super fucking duper freaking out moment and excitement.

➳ “You look pretty”, “What did you say?” “I SAID YOU LOOK SHITTY.”

➳ The date was pretty well if you ignore the embarrassed silent that sometimes would build because of you two being very flustered, or when you two fought to see who would pay the bill, and his attempted flirts that didn’t go really well, even if you find it funny and cute.

➳ “Y/n. I know you got out of a shitty relationship and---”, he sighed, looking for some courage while heavily shades of pink on his face, “I want you to know that I ˡᶦᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ.” He did the thing again. “What? Sorry I didn’t hear you”, you said. Lol you did hear but wanted a confirmation. “I LIKE YOU. THAT’S IT. IS THAT WHAT YOU WANTED TO HEAR?”

➳ Yep.

 Todoroki Shouto

➳ All this rudeness was seriously breaking your heart in pieces. You just couldn’t. It’s too much to handle.

➳ That’s it, you will never get in a relationship ever again. You know every time someone attempts to flirt with you, those bitter images of you getting coldly left aside would come again.

➳ Well, that’s what you though until fall in Todoroki’s ears that you were heartbroken.

➳ Boy, he was mad. Although he didn’t really show with expressions, every night he would dream of burning that motherfucker down into some burnt shit.

➳ “Y/n, are you really ok? I can buy you soda if you want.”, he said, emotionless as usual. “Thank you very much, Todoroki-kun. It’s extremely sweet of you.” You smiled, trying not to cry in front of him. “Call me Shouto.” He hesitantly rubbed your back, walking away seconds later to buy you the soda.

➳ Whoever played with your feelings, dude they have a death wish and didn’t even know (or did know?)

➳ Giving you the soda, he began to try comfort you- even if it was asking you a bunch of random questions, trying to make you forget for some moments about everything.

➳ “It’s really ok Todo—Shouto. You really don’t need to worry. I will move on soon”. “I’m always here for you”.

➳ He was the one who was making the most effort to help you during those hard times, but like, really overhelping. “Do you need this? I can get for you. I can also cook whatever you want, or try at least. Do you want that? I buy for you, my dad’s card is black. Want to hang out? I’m already on your door.”

➳ He was there for you 24/7, and I’m really not joking when I say 24/7.

➳ “Shouto, I’m sorry, I can’t continue this anymore. I feel like you are spoiling me too much, and I know this is just because everything that is happening. I really appreciate tons of you trying to help me, and believe you are nailing this. But I know this won’t last forever and I probably will a bad habit and I don’t want this. Actually, I don’t even get why you are so there for me always, more than any human could be and—”

➳ “Because I like you.”

➳ WhAt???? Am I dreaming??

➳ “Excuse me??????”. “Because I like you, Y/N. I really do”.

➳ He said tHOSE words with a stoic face, how did he--???

➳ Todoroki slowly leans closer to your face and gives you a romantic kiss. He cups your cheeks with his cold and hot hands, giving you an odd feeling with two different temperatures on your face, but that doesn’t mean you don’t like it.

➳ He starts to move his lips and you open yours a little, just enough so he can slip his tongue inside your mouth. His hands go to your waist as he deepens the kiss, then to your hips, until he breaks the kiss when you were almost without breath

➳ “Can I?”

➳ “Yes.”

  ☽★☾

A/n: Thank you for reading until here! I advanced my apologies and if I wrote something or didn’t really make sense, please message me so I can fix it. Also this is my first “work” on Tumblr so please be gentle with critics! Hope you have a good day ❤

[wendell-or-something]

it is time.

I want to compile a more complete rundown of my thoughts about homestuck 2. I want all the stuff in my head to be in one place, and I know this is going to be incredibly long winded and I don’t care. I want to be honest... I want to understand why I don't like this media. on more than a "but of course" level because there are a lot of people who have it as a gut reaction that this stuff isn't right. but I think there are layers to what produces that. I wanna get in depth with this. so that's what I'm gonna attempt to do.

okay, so, the first thing I think I wanna say is a disclaimer. I have not actually read the epilogues. or homestuck 2. I have a peripheral knowledge of what happens in them because, as a concerned citizen, I poked around enough to pick up details and know that I wouldn't enjoy this media if I fully engaged with it. my assessment of the material may be flawed because of this, but I mean... if the things I've heard about the epilogues deterred me from reading it, then I guess that's what I'm analyzing? not only what I understand based on my limited knowledge, but also why it is so limited to begin with. why this media is such a huge deterrent to so many people who care so much about homestuck. ultimately, this is not to shame people who like this media... I will be addressing common takes I've heard from people who defend the epilogues, but I'm not singling anyone out, and anyone who reads this has a right to disagree, or better yet, ignore me and find enjoyment where you are able, even if I cannot. I will not begrudge you that. additionally, I am considering the epilogues and homestuck 2 to be one unit. not necessarily in terms of structure, but because the events of one lead directly into the events of the other, and the two have similar issues. I think I'll shorthand the combination of the two as EP/HS2 for simplicity, and refer to either individually if I have something specific to say about one or the other.

I think the main problem that people have with EP/HS2 is that it's depressing. and it's depressing for a myriad of different reasons, but I'll get to those in a minute. first I want to establish why them being depressing doesn't work for so many people. I feel like this should be examined first, because a lot of the supporters of EP/HS2 are viewing the complaints against it as over sensitivity from fans who only liked the comic for its lighter elements. I keep seeing a "y'all just wanted your rainbow cotton candy fluff ending" kind of sentiment going around. and like... you are right that this isn't a fluff ending. but I think it's unfair to treat the particular type of content that EP/HS2 brought to the table as the only kind of substantial, fulfilling narrative that we could've asked for.

and I think a lot of the dissonance that people see between homestuck and EP/HS2 is based in the ratio of tension to levity, and how far it's shifted toward pure tension... especially because, at the end of homestuck, all the outside threats to this group of friends have already been resolved. and yet, shit feels leagues more catastrophically bad during the epilogues than it did during the comic when the characters were actually under attack, which is super weird when you think about it. I mean, "epilogues" my ass, am I right? it is true that homestuck was never 100% sunshine and rainbows... in fact, some of the darker events that it brought to the table became some of the most hyped shit in the comic. murderstuck is mostly what I'm thinking of first in terms of this, but there was a lot of popular angst laden content within homestuck that the fans latched onto. the thing is, the fans also latched onto the content that was super goofy, and the fan works that you can still find online from the era of homestuck's initial popularity reflect both sides of its tone in equal measure. there was a huge amount of goofy fan content (octopimp's youtube channel is still a record of that, and that wasn't even the half of it). and there was a huge amount of angsty content, and there was a huge amount of heartfelt content... turns out, homestuck had broad appeal, and spoke to different people in different ways. and back then, I never really felt like the goofy stuff was being treated as any less important than the heavy stuff. it wasn't brushed off just because it was seen as lighthearted. people liked to laugh, and I fully believe that Andrew Hussie began doing homestuck as a fun activity.

the reason why I bring this up is because homestuck as a piece of media could beget all of these various takes. the fan works could be tonally dissonant when held side by side with each other, but when held against the parts of the comic that inspired them, they made perfect sense. homestuck could spawn jokes, and angst, and social commentary, and theories... and even extrapolation on canonical events, in ways both silly and serious. and when you look at the kind of content that the fans produced during homestuck's height, you see what was important to them. they put time and effort into crafting even their dumbest meme shit. the fans reflected what the comic gave to them. and humor and heart were among the most beloved core engagements that the comic provided... these were pillars on which a lot of fan enjoyment rested... you really can't begrudge a person their fun.

and treating darkness and angst as the sole indicator of maturity in a work seems misguided to me. because, speaking personally for a moment here, one of the biggest lessons I had to teach myself when I was growing up was how not to wallow in negative emotions. how to find the fun, sometimes rather aggressively, so that you don't just drown. and with EP/HS2, it feels like at every turn, readers are constantly grasping for something nice or fun to keep them afloat in all this heavy stuff, and either they come to accept mere scraps of positivity, or everything they reach for is eventually dissolved as well. and I think the character of a piece of media as a whole can sometimes tell you what level of maturity it's operating under. like, if the text lingers over making the characters miserable, or seems to revel in shooting holes in people's positive interpretations of these people, you have to kind of wonder if this is serving the narrative, or just producing author schadenfreude when they release what amounts to shock content.

it almost feels like a twisting of the way homestuck used to treat the fans, because during it's run, homestuck was very reactive towards the fanbase. this kind of canon responsiveness to the readers was baked into homestuck from the very beginning, back when Hussie was accepting reader suggestions for what John Egbert should do. and need I remind everyone that the trolls were made as parodies of different types of personalities that were common to find online during homestuck's era? they are internet trolls, who are actually an alien race known as trolls, who communicate primarily online, and whose culture and species developed to produce an ornery and antagonistic population, so like... it's trolls all the way down. that's the whole joke. but the real, valuable benefit of parodying your fans with your characters, is that when the trolls act, they reflect the way real people acted. which means that when, say, Nepeta shoehorns RP lingo into casual conversation, some people will be like "it me!" and some people will laugh/cringe because they've seen people actually talk like that, and some people will be like "aww, that used to be me!" and every time a character produces this sense of identification with the audience, it works to create familiarity, and eventually, a sense of fondness.

that fondness is fucking powerful.

that fondness is born out of recognition and empathy, no matter which character you feel it for, and when a giant community of people loves a character that you have seen yourself reflected in so clearly, that is an incredibly validating experience. especially when you’re young, and the pieces of yourself that you saw were some of the nerdiest, weirdest, most awkward parts of you. a very large community of people loves a character that is like you, even, or perhaps especially, because of the flawed parts. and of course these characters were meant to tease the fans a little... these characters were also jokes to some extent the whole time. but they were never seen as cruel or insulting, because these characters were also important. the story literally built whole worlds around their identities... these kids altered universes. and they were allowed to be that important and special without being perfect first. they were dumb, and awkward, and nerdy, and cringey, and allowed to be there anyway. they were you, and you were important.

and this is where I think that EP/HS2 really misses the point. because in homestuck, the characters experienced hardship, but that hardship went on to fuel an overall sense of accomplishment when it was overcome. the road might be long, and it might be tough, and you might face shit that you don't feel prepared for, but when triumph is achieved, it feels that much more earned. and that is a key phrase I want everyone to remember homestuck for:

triumph.

it's the feeling that cascade gave me. it is the highest of heights that this whole thing reached. and it really has so much to do with how homestuck had built itself up until that point. we were mired in the minutiae of these kids' lives. we read their every chat log. we saw them dicking around doing next to nothing. we saw them contact each other and talk to each other for basically no reason other than to catch up. we saw them sharing stupid memes, and yelling at each other for wasting time on pointless bullshit, and dunking on each other's shitty taste in media... every one of them was "you" at some point. "you captchaloged this" or "you decided to do that" and it made a subtle connection in your brain that convinced you to feel things with them and accept what they "decided" as something that you had done alongside them. in some small way, you did homestuck. and this notion was further supported by how much of what the fans were doing would make its way back into what the comic was doing. the comic and the fans existed in a kind of symbiosis, and that fed into the feeling of connection that the fans had with this particular story. this thing was alive, and it moved in tandem with the community.

so when something big like cascade happened, you were right there with them. you were deep in the center of it. and you wanted to be, because this was your payoff. you did the work with these kids... you put in the time. and the triumph was yours too.

this is why EP/HS2 shouldn't be depressing. the core of the story was triumph against all odds. to take the triumph that was earned over the course of the whole story, and ruin it for the sake of generating angst... it misses the point. I did not read all 8000+ pages of homestuck multiple times because I wanted a tragedy. if I wanted tragedy, I would choose a different story. of course a lot of fans would have trouble liking EP/HS2... this wasn't what they signed up for. it pulls the rug out from under the fans of the original comic by pulling a mean genre bait and switch. why would people who liked a story like homestuck want a story like this? and I mean, obviously some people were okay with this. some people like EP/HS2. but you have to admit that it is an entirely different thing than what homestuck was.

I’ve heard some folks try to compare the darker parts of EP/HS2 to the darker parts of homestuck, and this is why they aren't the same. the darkness performs different functions in each story. in homestuck, it contrasts the lighter parts and creates a reason to keep everyone moving. in EP/HS2, it is the whole darn thing. the story is simply woven from it to begin with. I have heard some people say that they think of EP/HS2 as cathartic... as a reflection of life when things are painful or hard. but I think we really need to remember what catharsis is. catharsis doesn’t begin and end with pain. catharsis has to do something with that pain, or it’s just pain for pain’s sake. and the further I look into EP/HS2, the more I feel like the story is just playing it straight as a tragedy... though sometimes I wonder if it knows this.

so let's pull apart the tragedy of EP/HS2. because while I don’t really enjoy tragedies, (hence why I liked homestuck, and didn’t like EP/HS2... they are opposites in this sense), I still understand how tragedies work. catharsis can be part of it... to see something sad happen, and relate to that sadness, and feel a deep emotion... that does make sense. but the line between catharsis and just plain agitation is whether or not the pain actually provides you with a sense of relief. if the story leaves the character stuck in a bad emotional place, you feel stuck too... unable to confront the emotional burden that the story has saddled you with in a satisfying way, because it isn't even your own. in real life, when you are hurt, at least you have the ability to do whatever you need for yourself, in order to eventually feel better. I have grieved before, and somehow found it in me to laugh again since. but in stories, you rely on the author to construct the characters' response to bad events, and if things just go from bad to worse, sometimes with little resistance, the audience is eventually going to feel really agitated by the lack of relief. even stories that end in death provide catharsis due to the finality of it. the life ends, and provides a sense of closure. but EP/HS2 doesn’t give you an out. it just keeps driving many of the characters into more and more mundanely uncomfortable and dissatisfying lives, or turns them into people we would rather not know or read about.... which feels like a loss to the reader, even though the character is right there. at that point, the character's presence only makes you feel worse because they used to be someone you liked, but now they're just a reminder of your disappointment. and this level of your emotional discomfort isn't even something that the narrative will address, because it's just a side effect of how things are going. it isn't poetic, and there is no real comfort given to lighten that load... it's just unpleasant.

and on a more technical level, I would like to point out that stories create a kind of transaction between author and reader. and once you understand the status quo between you and a particular author, you can gauge the level of investment you feel safe putting in the characters. at their core, it stands to reason that stories should require conflict to be interesting. but in order to stay interesting, they also need to give us a reason to care about the conflict. in homestuck, I felt like the story set up a status quo in which we felt comfortable caring about certain characters, because we subtly trusted that the author wasn't wasting our time or jerking us around. like, you knew that a lot of crazy shit was on the table, but it felt like the story was growing, the author was interested in that growth, and thus he would not kill it. even if you couldn't begin to guess what was gonna happen next, you at least didn't have to worry about the author hugely ruining things that you liked about the story. he seemed like he liked those things too. we were all on the same page in that regard.

this is where character investment was very important to homestuck... the readers needed something to hang on to, or they'd lose interest in what was going on, and in homestuck specifically, the thing that kept us hanging on, was our love for these characters, and our wish to see them prevail against the odds. we were hoping for a satisfying ending, and interested in how we'd get there. and by now, I think homestuck fans in particular are very determined to stick to the characters by nature. if we weren't, then we would've been bored out of reading the comic in the first place back in act 1, when the most exciting thing that had happened was John going through his house and finding his dad in the kitchen. if you don't love John at least a little, you won't want to keep reading about him picking up items and describing them to you for a whole chapter, with not but the entertainment value of his character's particular perspective and voice to sustain you.

obviously, character investment isn't always a story's draw... but it was definitely homestuck’s. and even giving EP/HS2 the benefit of the doubt... let's say we're just judging it on the merits of being a tragic story. there are many levels of engagement that a story can hit, and in a lot of tragedies, the interest comes from the machinations of the plot. you already know it's going to end sadly, but you have the ability to process the sadness (a negative emotional experience and potential reader deterrent) while still maintaining interest, because you want to know how it will happen. it is unfortunate then, that EP/HS2 isn't a stand alone story, independent from homestuck itself. because if you tell a homestuck fan that the story will now only end in sadness, they likely won't want to know how it happens. because they already decided to like and relate to these characters, and wish for their happiness. they were taught it was okay to hope for that, based on the way the story used to be. basically, one of the essential appeals of homestuck (character investment) is actively working against the core appeal of a tragedy (understanding how sad events came to pass) because homestuck's appeal worked so well to begin with. it's basically nonsensical to try and jump track from one to the other, because the reader is much more likely to fall off the wagon entirely, and ignore your story in order to preserve their enjoyment of the story they already consumed.

but to get way more blunt about this... homestuck was good, and ruining what it left us with was unpopular for obvious reasons. fans were successfully invested in the story, the final triumphant payoff was a satisfying way to cap the narrative, and honestly... I think homestuck probably should've just stopped while the vibes were good. people were satiated. they were sad that it was over, but the sadness came from fondness, and that just sort of felt appropriate. we had it so good.

the transaction between author and reader was stable at that point. we had conflict. we had a reason to care. we got a resolution. there was a level of trust established, and honored... we trusted that there was a rhythm to the story. a push and pull between the kind of threat that would necessitate action from our heroes, and the ability of the characters to overcome the conflict well enough that we'd be left with something satisfying in the end. this trust no longer exists in EP/HS2. the epilogues broke it, and homestuck 2 has failed to repair it because, to be honest, it was already too badly damaged. it would take a full retcon to actually bring that back after the epilogues, but then it uh... screwed the pooch all over again. sorry, that was insensitive.

anyway. so like... what about the particulars of the story's content? I mean... I know I'm dissatisfied because a lot of the characters have been blatantly destroyed. Dirk will be my example for this bit, I mean, just look at him. in one epilogue route he commits suicide, and by making Ult. Dirk a thing, they effectively unestablished the identity of Dirk as he was in homestuck. and my limited knowledge of the epilogues doesn't allow me to really know about this, but was there even any acknowledgement of how death works in homestuck? Dirk must've known that if he killed himself, he'd end up as a ghost out in the dream bubbles. that is still a thing, right? Dave could've gone looking for him. considering Dirk's pesterquest route, he should've wanted to. and see, there's an example of what might've approached catharsis in a situation like that... pain, but also a human person dealing with that pain in a way that feels like fulfillment. but as far as I've heard, the story didn't go there? so it's just pain for pain's sake... or maybe just a bid to get rid of the more complex version of his character and replace him with an anime villain. and the method doesn't even make any sense, like, Dirk is the last character that would ever commit suicide because, by his own canonical words, he is scared to not exist. he literally couldn't bring himself to destroy the AR because of this, in spite of having every technical and emotional reason to want to. this is a major pain point for him, and I know it's typical to think of someone with self hatred wanting to kill themselves, but Dirk is a particularly different case. he should not be shoved into such an ill fitting generic narrative for shock value.

and beyond that, let's say you're someone who identified with Dirk. let's say that when homestuck said "you are now Dirk Strider" you were like "oh fuck I kinda am tho" and you were invested in him ever since. let's say that the points of investment you felt with him were in his troubles with self loathing, his fear of not existing, or his trouble communicating his true feelings to others. this is a rather dismal end for Dirk to have come to... and a rather dismal story for you to read if you still relate to this character. if you're coming off the end of homestuck still securely relating to him as heavily as you did when he was allowed to triumph, how fucking bad is it gonna feel to see him so thoroughly obliterated? to whiplash so hard from a perceived success to such abject failure is just mean. this story is so mean now, like, everyone's got the bug it seems.

and not only do several characters perish (literally, or by being mismanaged) for cheap drama in EP/HS2, but some just turn into shitty people? like, Rose recently revealed that she cheated on Kanaya. I simply hate the idea that Rose would grow up to be the type of person who would do that. I remember Rose in acts 1 through 5 being the kind of person who had misguided ideas about what course of action she thought would be effective. she would make some pretty big decisions, and act on destructive impulses, often in spite of what her friends thought was safe. in essence, I can see where the authors of homestuck 2 would get the idea of Rose going off and doing big shit without telling people. but this ignores why she was so determined to do any of that stuff in the first place... Rose was just as invested in protecting the people she cared about as anyone. and besides that, I thought her arc in those early acts had taught her something about that approach? I thought she got closer to people, to the point where they could voice a concern and she'd listen.

in regards to her relationship with Kanaya in particular, there's a huge difference between knowing someone for a day at the age of 13, and spending 3 more years getting to know and love that person before deciding to marry them. so even if this was the reflection of a quality that Rose had back then, I thought she grew past it... she had ample time and opportunity... we even watched her get better about this sort of thing. literally this rolls back her character development to when she was a child, and makes her a shitty adult. and if I’m being really scathing here, I might as well say that this feels like an example of that thing that stories sometimes do, where they only care about a relationship while the characters are struggling to get together. and then once they are together, it timeskips past their relationship being functional and lands you at a point where they're experiencing turbulence. at which point it leverages their relationship trouble for drama, rather than letting the two function well as a unit against an outside threat of some kind. like, no happy couples exist in fiction! gotta wring your conflict out of the fact that they’re falling apart! it feels like they’re being exploited by the writers.

and worst of all... this betrayal of trust by Rose either ruins Rose and Kanaya's marriage, or makes Kanaya seem like a fool. I keep thinking back to their time on the meteor, when Rose asked if Kanaya was breaking up with her because they finally reached that tipping point where Rose's drinking had to be acknowledged as a problem. and Kanaya said that no, she wasn't breaking up with her, and stuck with Rose because she was dedicated to loving her even if that meant helping her with a serious problem. that was such a strong character moment for Kanaya. it displayed her loyalty and dedication to Rose, but also a nuanced understanding of when a problem can actually be solved by dedicated effort. having her be so committed to staying with Rose in spite of Rose's transgressions is like a perversion of those positive qualities. now it just feels like Kanaya is irrationally willing to put up with anything from Rose, no matter how egregious. it takes a trait that was so nice about Kanaya, and uses it in such an upsetting way... and honestly, there was no reason to do that.

but this is a huge problem with EP/HS2... there's like, juuuuuust enough of a through line for people to think that it makes sense. so when I try to say that the characters are just better people than this, and that they're smart enough to do the most basic fundamental things to prevent pain in people that they care about... when I say I believe in the integrity of these characters, I could very well get someone adamantly insisting that I was just being naive. that sometimes, in reality, people disappoint you. what can I even do about that, without sounding like I'm in denial, or like I'm only interested in liking these characters when all their rough spots are smoothed away? how can I begin to articulate that these aren't decisions being made by the characters... they're decisions being made by authors who I don't trust for exactly this reason. and I very especially hate this because just... no! I know what these characters' flaws actually were! and what their strengths were! I had a solid read on their identity, because homestuck was so friggin good at establishing that! I know that a huge part of Rose coming into her own was learning how to cut all the snarky passive aggressive sarcasm and just be honest about her feelings... something that she actually advocated for when talking to Dave, but also had to learn to do herself. the logical escalation of Rose’s character would be a trend toward more openness... but also, just in general, Rose never had a kindness problem. like, I guess that’s the biggest thing I have an issue with. Rose was never this unkind.

it just feels like the writers want us to believe that not only was Kanaya played for a fool, but we were as well. we thought Rose was better than this. we thought we were better judges of character than this. and honestly... we were! the writing was not on the wall about this development. but that just doesn't mean anything because EP/HS2 said that it happened.

and this also harms the relatability of Rose for the people who used to identify with her. I'm not saying she has to be perfect... obviously, characters can and should be flawed. and characters can have flaws that you don't perfectly relate to the specifics of. Rose developed a drinking problem at a young age, which a few people might've related to, but it's very specific. but if you broaden the implications of that in the context of a story... a ton of people will be able to relate to the concept of developing an unhealthy coping mechanism, or doing something you don't really enjoy just to relate to a relative who has been distant to you for whatever reason, or even just having a complicated relationship with a parent. so what if you apply this kind of broadened meaning to Rose's cheating? the idea that she is not trustworthy. that she hides major, life altering information from people who are very close to her and should've been told. that she doesn't trust her partner, and would rather sneak around and hide this for years, rather than either letting her partner be involved in this part of her life, or accepting that her partner isn't comfortable with this development and respecting that boundary. this sort of thing is really alienating to people who know that they themselves are better than this. and “alienating” is the exact antithesis of what homestuck always was to the people who loved it.

what's especially interesting to me, is that the effects of this alienation actually come through in the way that people talk about EP/HS2 nowadays. I don't know if anyone has noticed this trend yet, but people tend to talk about the events of EP/HS2 as decisions made by writers, rather than decisions made by characters. which is weird, because people didn't do that so much with homestuck. and for this I wanna break out Vriska as an example. a lot of people like Vriska, and a lot of people hate Vriska. she's controversial. but no matter what, people always take Vriska's actions as though they're hers. and if they hate what Vriska does in the story, then they hate Vriska. not Hussie, for writing her that way. not even the vague concept of the narrative. they consider Vriska's actions to actually belong to her and form her identity, which they then pass judgment on, one way or another. Hussie is even a character that canonically exists within homestuck, and nobody ever thought to blame him, in universe, for being the origin of Vriska as a trouble causing entity in the story. compare that with how many times you'll see someone say that they don't like what the EP/HS2 writers have done with Rose, Jade, Jane, etc.... they tend not to actually level blame at the characters themselves. obviously this does vary a lot from person to person, but as a vague trend, I would say that people are starting to detach themselves from the characters, or at least detach the characters from their actions in EP/HS2. and to me it reads as a bit of a defense mechanism. it is a degree of separation that lets these characters keep their integrity, and the potential for positive development that they had when homestuck initially ended. it is a trend that, to me, proves the point that the level of pain for pain's sake in this story is too much. without relief, people disengage. even if they want to keep up with how the characters are doing, they no longer want to buy into the narrative's reality... so they acknowledge the author, and the fact that this is fiction. they remove themselves from the act of being invested. and the more adamantly you see people doing this, the more uncomfortable you can assume it feels for these people to buy into the events of the story and treat them as real.

to jump track to another odd point that I think creates a further barrier between cast and audience... has anyone noticed the age of the main cast's children that we've seen appear so far? all of them seem to be similar to the ages of the beta kids when we first met them. they're teenagers. and that means that, if my knowledge is correct, we kinda skipped a chunk of these people's lives. we never really spent time seeing the original homestuck kids as new parents... we never saw them raising their babies. and I get that this is an odd complaint, but it's an example of the story not growing with its audience. it's missing a huge opportunity, not only to show us this portion of their lives, but to fill in with some major world building when it comes to Earth C. are we supposed to assume that absolutely none of the main cast of homestuck made any new friends on Earth C? did they not explore what kind of culture popped up on this planet? what if one of the main cast had gone out and met someone totally new to befriend or love on this planet? but no... we're strictly only interested in the original cast and their kids, which they only ever had with each other, and nobody is really friends anymore, but nobody has met anyone new either... basically depression and isolation is the only option for these characters if the writers aren't willing to actually let them live in the world they're living in. and besides that, at time of writing, there is one friend of mine from my friend group that is just now planning on getting married. he'll be the first of all of us. and while he and his fiancé want kids pretty quickly once they're settled down, it still hasn't even happened yet. we're in our late 20s. and believe me, I understand the desire to timeskip to when the kids are old enough to be full people, but you have to remember not only that there are other ways to introduce new characters, but also who we're even trying to relate to here. is it the new kids, or their parents? because most of us aren't parents yet, much less the parents of teenagers, but we aren’t teenagers anymore either, and this isn’t framed as their story anyway. how are the majority of homestuck’s older fans represented in EP/HS2?

and when EP/HS2 skips the portion of these characters' lives that we, in real life, are actually living, it subtly hints that a story that would reflect what our lives are like isn't interesting, and tells us that not much good is expected to be waiting in our futures either. and the bigger problem with that is that the writing decisions in EP/HS2 represent the authors' answer to the question: how do we make this interesting? clearly they didn't think that anyone would be satisfied with a nice little romp through the lives these characters might've built. like, a slice of life type of story? or maybe something with a smaller stakes conflict? I dunno why, but my first thought was like... what if Jane ended up actually becoming a detective, and the story just had an intermission-style detour into her solving a case or something? at least a weird, hyper specific detour like that would signal that we care about what she's doing... that'd be fine by me! but they couldn't even give us something that would frame her as a good person... they just treated her like she never got un-possessed by the Condesce, and called it a day. it just feels like these are authors who wouldn't be satisfied with a story that lets the characters be at ease in their private lives. peace is something that is off the table, like, if the characters are living good, satisfying lives, we will never hear about it because apparently that counts as nothing to report.

but also... in the absence of the larger plot machinations that SBURB provided, what was left to create a struggle for these characters to face? it couldn't be Jack Noir, Lord English, the Condesce... those threats all got resolved. and they couldn’t let the characters exist in any facsimile of peace. so the writers needed something to stir things up. and in trying to find a new challenge to drive the story, they dug into the stuff that, in my opinion, should not have been used in this way. they began grasping at character drama, trying to wring conflict out of the deterioration of the relationships between the characters.

but at the same time, they're trying to capture the grandeur of homestuck during its more iconic moments. and okay, this is a pretty far out there speculation, but I've always made this observation about homestuck, and the way it got popularized. early on, fans would get into it with no real idea of how big or ambitious the story was going to be. going into act 1 blind, you wouldn't suspect this comic of being much more than a quirky, funny little weekly strip, set up for the sole purpose of making weird jokes about Nic Cage or Harry Anderson. then you get to the big shit. which in act 1 could just be the meteor destroying John's house. but that's a pretty impressive amount of escalation based on the expectations you had. fast forward to a bigger moment, like the reveal that the trolls' SGRUB session created the human universe, and you're super excited about this. so you tell whoever will listen that they should really read homestuck! and maybe they listen, and they go to page one and... well... they seem kind of unimpressed by the way the comic looks. this is what all the hype was about? and you really wanna sell it to them, so you're like, no, seriously, it gets so much better. and maybe you show them bits like the LOWAS walk around flash game, or maybe [S] make her pay, or something. and they're like, whoa, the comic gets like that? so perhaps they slog through the early acts, or maybe they just skip to the trolls and double back when they're confused enough... but either way, the comic's selling point is now it's climax, not the buildup.

and the problem with viewing the comic this way is that homestuck is both things. proportionally, homestuck is actually way more composed of the tedious little stuff than the grand big stuff. but homestuck was popularized via the grand big stuff, and sometimes I feel like EP/HS2 is attempting to fill itself with big stuff like that, but it isn't doing the legwork right. it's using character drama to fuel itself, but it's also trying to be highly epic in terms of its presentation. the lack of contrast flattens everything out, and as I described earlier, the story no longer has that essential push and pull between the terrorizing forces that threaten the characters/raise the stakes, and the unity and likability of the cast that makes you care about their struggle/gets you invested in seeing the conflict resolved. and I just wanna point out that those little interstitial bits... the ones that are typically viewed as the stuff you have to slog through in order to get to the interesting part? those were our main source of knowledge when it came to the characters. it's how we got invested in them and came to know that we liked or related to them in the first place.

the larger ramifications of this lean away from the little things, while also leaning into character drama to fuel conflict in the plot, leads to the overuse of bombastic character drama. sensationalized character drama. everything is always a huge fucking deal, while also being primarily concerned with the existing characters, rather than any kind of outside threat. so what are the tools? a wedding? a funeral? terminal illness, betrayal, a change in ideology that creates a schism... the loss of identity. all these high drama moments that generate conflict by sacrificing the bonds these characters shared. you know... letting that core piece of investment self destruct. the story is basically eating itself in order to sustain its momentum, but there's basically no point anymore. it's been gutted of the stuff that really mattered.

so why did everything go so badly? why do half of the characters not even like each other anymore? why do we not even like half of them anymore? why did the writers feel the need to dismantle them like this? well, because what else do we have to work with... how do you introduce a new threat to these characters without it being either SBURB all over again, or something entirely different that just makes these characters seem overwhelmingly put upon by the universe, like, more than any other individuals that have ever existed. it's actually a very rudimentary power escalation problem. gotta find that next level of bigger problem to set on everyone.

but do you wanna know what kind of homestuck fan I’ve been since the very beginning? I started reading homestuck 9 years ago. I think I was like 16 or 17? and at first I wasn’t sure how to interact with the comic, so I went to the “about” section of the website. it told me, in a broad sense, what mspaintadventures.com was, as a collection of work, and suggested that I begin by reading problem sleuth. not knowing that it wasn’t part of homestuck, I did just that. I read all of it. before I even got to homestuck. I am a fan that lives for the small, stupid, tedious fucking around. the slow buildup of total bullshit... the complex setup that gives you a million microscopic payoffs on it’s way to god knows what end goal. it’s like watching an explosion in reverse. all the tiny little pieces fly chaotically together and coalesce into a whole story, and you got to watch it build itself, piece by tiny little piece. I live and breathe for that level of detail. and the most fun I ever had with the story was when the characters were wandering around an environment, exploring and using various objects to set up these wacky chain reactions, half of which you’d never see coming, but which would all retroactively make sense in the end.

what I’m saying is that small scale conflict is interesting. and there are whole genres that build themselves off of this. I actually think that in certain instances, homestuck may fall under the slice of life genre. and slice of life is largely misunderstood as a rather bland genre, but the appeal is watching people with personalities that you enjoy. you watch them live their lives, and you go along for the ride. true slice of life is not a soap opera... it’s just enjoying the company of people who happen to be fictional. there's always been an element of that in homestuck... these were characters that you could see yourself getting along with if you met them. they were entertaining because of how they saw the world... how you would see the world if you were looking through their eyes. and homestuck gave you that opportunity. sometimes, that actually is all that you need.

I'm not saying that homestuck's ideal form is as a purely slice of life type of story... but wasn't that kind of what a lot of the fan works felt like? little comics about funny scenarios, or preexisting comedy bits with roles assigned to the characters they reminded you of... that stuff was the form that fun took for the fans of this comic. why is that so easily dismissed as frivolous? why is it so bad to want a little of that back? sometimes, you do wanna get into the hard stuff. maybe you wanna see Dave and Dirk have a conversation where they both admit that all they wanted as kids was a brother, and neither felt like they got to have that, but in very different ways. maybe you wanna see Roxy and Rose compare their similar feelings of estrangement, and explore the emotions that led them into their respective struggles with alcohol. maybe you wanna see John have a moment of sadness when he decides he wants to raise a kid, because he misses his own dad, and while Jane's dad is definitely family, he isn't the guy that actually raised John for the first 13 years of his life. maybe you wanna see Jade get inordinately clingy with every single one of her friends until one of them finally voices a concern about needing some space, only to see a glimpse of Jade's absolute terror at the thought of being alone again. and that pain is something that could definitely find a place in a story with more actual down time. maybe these moments of actually cathartic lingering pain could be explored with sensitivity in a story that gives them room to breathe. if the writers played their cards right and let the characters heal in meaningful ways, they might've even gotten tears of happiness out of a few of us. wouldn't that have been wild.

I just hate the idea that something is more realistic if it's dark. that's not true at all. I understand where the sentiment comes from. I understand the merits of taking an unflinching look at hard truths. but cynicism is not the same as realism. and realistically, people will try hard to seek good things for themselves in life. and even if they miss the mark... even if they fall into depression, or lack the ability to make their dreams a reality, these particular characters had already sought and found good people. people who would, realistically, absolutely help a friend if they needed it. I know this, because I watched them do that. the whole first five acts were literally about the trolls yelling at the humans because there was a huge problem that they blamed the kids for causing, and what did these kids do? they said "hey wait, let's fix that" and they did. even though the trolls made a horribly rude first impression. even though it was monumentally challenging. these kids have fought and died for each other's sake. they are family. if not by blood then by bond. and when that part of a story resonates with an audience, it is valuable.

I feel like I shouldn't have to defend the value of connecting positively with an audience. I get that this may be kind of a hokey take... I get that the people who currently like EP/HS2 will probably think I'm asking for something far too saccharine. but at this point I don't even care. once again, this is just my personal opinion, long and rant-like though it may be. and clearly it will change nothing about the current state of homestuck's most canon non-canon continuation. I guess my one major frustration is the extent to which some people have bought into what I consider to be blatant character defamation. it pains me when people talk about the actions of some of the characters in EP/HS2, because while many blame the writers for the unsettling behavior displayed by them in EP/HS2, some will readily consider this to be where the kids from the early acts really ended up as people.

[kirikinni]

Will You Still Be Here? | krbk

Summary: High school relationships never last but sometimes there really is only one person for you.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Kirishima Eijirou 

Word Count: 11k

Themes: no quirks, normal world au, kiribaku break up, slight nsfw themes

Warning: depression, hinting to abusive relationships, mental health, slight nsfw but like if you squint.

Kirishima Eijirou has always given more than he gets, he has always been the one to pick up calls at three in the morning or stay overnight to make sure they’re okay. Kirishima Eijirou has always been an empath and his mother told him a long time ago that that very thing would back to bite him in the ass. High school was fun, he made friends, scored decently in his classes and got into all the trouble he possibly could have. In high school he met Bakugou Katsuki, in high school he met the love of his life. It was in high school where Kirishima felt like the world was right and the pieces finally connected, it was in high school when Kirishima Eijirou finally felt like he had everything he needed and then all of a sudden he didn’t.

It was a fight here and there at first, they would argue about where to eat or about Bakugou’s anger issues but they would always make up. The two boys would always make up before long and would be seen together soon enough. In the beginning it was a broken pencil or a word that stung a little more than necessary but they would always apologize and they would be in each others arms again. In the beginning it was a hole punched in Kirishima’s bedroom wall and refusal to get help. In the beginning it was name calling and ignoring the signs until that was all it was.

Bakugou Katsuki was damaged, Kirishima knew this when they became friends, he knew this when he started to fall for his friend, he knew this when he finally asked Bakugou out and he knew this when he said ‘I love you’ and he believed that it was nothing he couldn’t fix. Kirishima Eijirou was going to help his boyfriend, he was going to fix his problems and help him become confident and whole again. He was going to love him and support him until that happened but people have limits.

Children have limits and Kirishima found his months before graduation during after school club activities.

“Katsuki hold on.” Kirishima called out as he jogged after his boyfriend. Katsuki had lost a game of dodgeball, being struck out by none other than Izuku Midoriya and that definitely struck a nerve. Midoriya and Bakugou had never really been the best of friends, they’ve known each other forever but he never liked the other boy. Bakugou thought Midoriya was making fun of him, thought that Midoriya was weak and child like for clinging to Bakugou like he did. Kirishima knew it wasn’t any of that and instead just Bakugou projecting his emotions onto the one person who never gave up on him.

“What shitty hair?” He asked, gritting his teeth together. He could not get angry at his boyfriend, he could not angry at someone else and take it out on his boyfriend, he was not going to make Kirishima upset. Bakugou repeated those words like a mantra in his head, ever since he had accidentally blown up on Kirishima and made him cry he had been trying to get control over his anger. To try and not hurt the people he loves because he was too afraid to accept love and support. “What?” he asked again, softer this time. Making a conscious effort to not redirect his anger.

“What happened baby? It’s just a game, remember we talked about this? We talked about not getting so blown up over such small things, you don’t have to be number one at everything. You’re already acing most of the classes, you’re the captain of both the football and basketball teams, the band is due to play next week at the café. Things are going good. You are winning, at the important stuff. This doesn’t matter.” He said softly, trying to remind Bakugou of all the good in his life trying to bring him down from his explosive high.

“You don’t fucking understand.” He said, shoving his hands deep in his pockets. He was not going to get angry, he was not going to scream at his boyfriend.

“Katsu, I do. I get it baby, you need to win but this is silly. This isn’t something you need to win, there’s so much else you can focus on. So much else for you to be passionate about.” He said trying again, Kirishima did not in that minute realize how far he was pushing Bakugou and unbeknownst to him the end of his happy ending was nearing.

“Kiri stop.” He said, feeling the rage climb through his body like a monster taking over. As if the emotion boiled in the very pit on his stomach and it climbed all the way through his body, engulfing him in flames and covering his vision. His anger, his insecurities, his fears all of it spread like a wildfire in a forest with no regard for what it burns or who it kills.

“Katsuki listen to me. There is so much more than this competition you have, there is so much more than this silly fire you have to beat everyone at everything. You are killing yourself, you are hurting everyone around you because you refuse to understand that this is pointless. This feud with Midoriya, this need to be number one at everything, this anger that makes you who you aren’t. It’s pointless and I need you to understand that.” He said and waited. Bakugou’s eyes were downcast, they refused to meet Kirishima but when he finally did there was nothing but malice. Nothing but a fire that burned so bright Kirishima knew he was about to get burnt.

“You wouldn’t fucking understand, you’re okay with being the underdog. You’re okay with being second best, hell you’re okay not even being in the running. You have no fire or passion so you wouldn’t fucking understand. There’s more? There’s so much more? What’s there huh? You? Are you more? You’re delusional and pathetic and you’re stopping me from reaching what I need to reach.” He spat out, his words laced with poison, teeth bared but voice nothing above a whisper. The same decibel at which he would sing ‘I love you’s’.

“Apologize.” Kirishima spoke, his eyes brimming with hot tears, his fists balled up as though he was going to punch his boyfriend. As though he was going to finally throw a punch back but no, his fists were closed to stop the tears from falling. His fists where closed because he hoped the pain from his fingernails puncturing his skin would be enough to dull the knives that where tore at his heart.

He waited, he stood in silence and waited for the apology to come but nothing did. The silence was somehow worse and he did something he never thought he could, he pushed Bakugou to the ground, hands wrapped around his shirt collar. “APOLOGIZE YOU PIECE OF SHIT.” He screamed at the boy and pulled his face up close, as close as he would hold it when they kissed.

Kirishima was pulled off the other boy by his friends, he was dragged off the boy he thought loved him. He was dragged off and his friends felt the heat of his tears fall on their hands, they knew what this meant and the end had come sooner than any of them had expected.

It had been years since the incident, years since Bakugou Katsuki ripped Kirishima’s heart out and chewed it up. Five years to be exact, Kirishima had gotten his business degree and was now working at a company in Tokyo. Still young, still new to his job he lived in a one bedroom apartment with hopes that life will take off one day. He lived most of his days without sparing his past flame a thought but there would be a song on the radio or a meal made in a specific way and he would come crashing down on his kitchen floor and waves of sadness would hit him. He would lay still, bunched up with his knees pressed against his chest as the tears flowed until they eventually stopped. He would cry until they washed away the memories of his touch and his smell and his loving words and all that was left would be the day they broke.

The tears would wash away the good and remind him of the pain and the broken pencils and the constant competition. He would be left with the memory of an empty watering can, gathering rust in the corners, an empty watering can that he has since not been able to fill.

“Kiri you wanna get dinner after work?” His friend asked as he leaned over his own cubicle.

“Sure Kams, where’d you have in mind?” Kirishima asked, not turning his eyes away from the spreadsheet he was editing.

“There’s this new restaurant, opened last week and they have live music. The singers supposed to be really good.”

“Yeah okay, I’ll come down to your floor when I get off cool?”

“Cool, see you later.”

Kaminari and Kirishima joined the company around the same time, both initially thought they would have to beat out the other for the position but both got in and now they spent quite a bit of time together. Kaminari was the only other real friend Kirishima had, his fiancée Jirou was sweet and they would all hang out together sometimes but they weren’t really friends.

Kirishima was grateful for Kaminari, he didn’t ask for a lot from him only that they hung out every so often and that Kirishima played badminton with him. It was an easy type of friendship, no twists or turns, no unwanted fights or late nights discussing the future. They weren’t children anymore, there was no need to discuss the future because this was it. This was their future, Kaminari and Kirishima would work this job, get promoted and milk it until they can retire, Kaminari would marry Jirou and Kirishima would attend the wedding. Maybe years ahead Kirishima will fall in love again, get married, start a family and he will forever in the shadow of the love he lost, forever with the emptiness of that rusting watering can inside him. This was their future so there was no need to think about it or talk about it.

They simply existed and that was all they really wanted to do.

At around 7:00 pm Kirishima switched off his monitor and stretched in his chair, running his hand through his black hair and loosening his tie. Kirishima had stopped dying his hair two years ago. He had been there longer than he expected but Kaminari had not called or texted so he assumed that he was caught up as well. Kirishima gathered his things, pulled his blazer on and walked away from the only thing that gave his life purpose anymore.

“Busy?” Kirishima asked his friend as he stepped out of the elevator on Kaminari’s floor.

“Ah fuck yeah, just give me ten and I’ll wrap up.” Kaminari said and went back to furiously typing away at his laptop.

Kirishima wordlessly sat beside him in a nearby cubicle and waited for his friend to finish. As he watched Kaminari work he was struck again by the thought of how mundane their lives where. How unbelievably still and steady their lives where and while at one point that might have made him sad now it was a relief. Kirishima, at age twenty three had no energy, nothing left to give and with every passing year he felt the rust settle in deeper, take a tighter hold on his being.

Soon Kaminari was done and they could go, the boys walked together out of their office building and down the street. The cold air of the night blew against their faces but after a year in the city they had been accustomed to it. Kaminari led the way to the restaurant, singing it’s praise the whole way. Kaminari was much more animated than Kirishima, he had the glow of one in love, the glow of one who was still full and Kirishima envied him sometimes but most times he pretended not to notice.

“Hi, table for two please.” Kaminari said the lady at the front. She smiled at the boys and led them to a table a little way from the stage but close enough to see. It looked like an old American speakeasy, complete with the wooden bar and stage for a single performer. It was dull and the lights hung low as men and women bustled around serving food on silver platters. Kirishima wondered for a second what their days where like, whether they too where satisfied with the dull of everyday life but the waitress brought them their menu and the thought left him.

Kirishima had no time or interest in trying to unravel the mysteries of the universe anymore, no want to understand the reasoning behind human behavior. There was a time Kirishima wanted to study psychology, become a therapist, help people grow, give them what they needed but that was before the can dried up.

They ordered their food, Katsudon for Kirishima and a burger for Kaminari, ordered a couple of beers and settled into their seats. Kirishima followed the pattern of asking Kaminari about the wedding prep, Kaminari teased Kirishima for still not having a date. They talked about things that were neither here nor there. Things that mattered and didn’t, things that never really made a difference and then their food came.

The lights near the stage dulled as they ate and Kaminari noted that the singer must have arrived. The two boys turned their heads to the stage and watched, their interest split quite unevenly between the food and the awaited singer.

There was a complete lack of light on the stage and only sounds of scuffling that came from that area for a while as they set up. Kirishima turned his attention back to his food until the first few notes of the song floated past the various heads and silver platters straight through his ears.

“All I want is nothing more to hear you knocking at my door.”

“Kiri stop running you loser!”

“Be faster then asshole.”

“Cause if I could see your face once more I could die as a happy man I’m sure.”

“Hey, you know you’re like the only person I like here.”

“Aw I like you too dumbass.”

“When you said your last goodbye I died a little bit inside.”

“Hey, I can’t sleep.”

“Me neither…. Want me to tell you a story?”

“I lay in tears in bed all night alone without you by my side.”

“Hey um, I know you said you where busy today but do you wanna go out with me? Like on a date?”

“But if you loved me why’d you leave me?”

“I love you Katsuki.”

“I love you too Eijirou.”

As the song played, as the music continued and the voice, his voice penetrated his ears, swam through his memories and broke open locks, every memory he had washed away with time and tears and alcohol drowned him.

Kirishima locked eyes with the singer, he wasn’t sure if he had recognized him but Kirishima had seen him. Kirishima knew who it was and Kirishima knew what this meant. He wanted to tear his eyes away, to get up and leave, to pretend this never happened and continue with the life he had built but he couldn’t. He was stuck in place, eyes glued to the stage, to the singer.

The song ended and Kirishima watched on in a daze as if he was watching a movie of his own memories. The song ended and the restaurant erupted in cheers for the singer who smiled and stood up to take a bow.

“Ah thank you everyone, I’m sorry it was so sad but this is one of my favorites. A personal song, after all art is always better with emotions isn’t it?” He asked the crowd and they responded with applause. Kirishima didn’t. “Hello everyone, I’ll be your entertainment for tonight and for every night until Shoto kicks me out. My name is Bakugou Katsuki.”

“Katsuki.” Kirishima whispered under his breath the same time as the singer mentioned his name.

Kirishima had walked out of there with his head hung low after dinner, he stayed and watched Bakugou sing. Watched as he smiled and laughed and interacted with the audience, Kirishima was grateful that they were seated away from the stage. Kaminari didn’t seem to notice his discomfort and even if he didn’t he didn’t acknowledge it.

Kirishima was grateful, he didn’t want to get into his history with the singer who’s blonde hair was reflecting the light stage lights. He looked good, looked better, looked happier and it stung. It pierced through Kirishima that he looked happier while he was still here breaking down from waves of nostalgia and sadness every time he smelled fresh acrylic paints.

Once they finished their meal Kaminari wanted to stay and compliment the singer and chef but Kirishima dished out the excuse he had been working on all night and squirrelled his way out of the restaurant. On the walk back home Kirishima’s heart pounded so loud he felt like there was a marching band following him all the way back to his apartment. He couldn’t stop the wave of memories that took over his mind, the feeling of Bakugou’s hands in his, his legs wrapped around his waist, the heat of his breath against his neck, the soft skin under his lips when they were alone.

It was too much, the memories they beat against him like a sudden downpour, like a storm he had not paid attention to but had grown nevertheless. The smell of Bakugou cooking snacks for them after school, the sound of his loud and thunderous laughter that ricocheted off the walls of his room, the feeling of his soft touches and hot tears after a fight. His touch, his smell, everything about him had engulfed Kirishima’s life once more and it was surrounding him.

Bakugou Katsuki was drowning him all over again.

When Kirishima woke up the next morning he woke up on the floor of his apartment, inches away from his bedroom door, his work clothes still on and his tie discarded in another corner of the room. He looked around in a daze and noticed the mess he had made, how he had trashed his own home because of someone who he knew in what seemed like a different life from now. His kitchen was a mess, the dishes where scattered on the counter and it smelt like he had burnt whatever he was trying to make. There were clothes scattered on the floor and an open suitcase like he was trying to make a run for it, a half empty bottle of scotch on the table and a glass broken against the adjacent wall.

Kirishima had drowned last night and he had made sure he tore down everything else with it. He rubbed his eyes and pressed a hand to his aching head as he looked around for his clock. It was no longer mounted stylishly on his wall but rather was tucked away underneath a bookshelf, thankfully not broken.

“10:00 am” The clock read and he sighed, he was late for work. He hadn’t called in, hadn’t submitted a request for leave but he here he was sitting on the floor not making any kind of move to get up and rush to work. Apologize, grovel, beg for his boss to forgive him. He should be up and hauling his ass to do that and all else but he did nothing. He sat still and stared at the broken glass before laying back down on his back.

Kirishima closed his eyes and when he opened them again it was noon, this time he moved but with no particular rush. He found his phone after a solid ten minutes of searching and checked the many messages he had received from Kaminari asking where he was. Apparently Kaminari had made some bullshit excuse about his getting food poisoning from the food they had and their manager had bought it but expected Kirishima to make up his missing hours by the end of the week and turn in that days reports.

He let out a dry laugh, the excuses, the hungover mornings, the thought of Katsuki Bakugou lingering on his mind, it was all too much like high school, all that was missing was his taste on the tips of his tongue and his hands curled around Bakugou’s hair. He groaned loudly and slapped himself so hard it stung and got off the ground. He stood on his own feet, using the couch near him as support and looked around at the mess he had created. He needed to clean, Kirishima knew that he had to clean but he couldn’t. He just couldn’t bring himself to clean the mess he had created, the mess Bakugou had created so he did nothing.

Instead he left the house exactly how it was and went to shower instead, he scrubbed and scrubbed at his body, every inch, all the hard to reach spots, shampooed himself twice, thrice, but it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter how many times he washed himself the scent never left, the lingering scent of a love lost, the scent of possibility, of wicked horrid hope and possibility lingered on his body and he hated every part of it.

Kirishima only got out of the shower when the water turned freezing cold, he didn’t bother changing into any sort of clothes and instead just sat in his towel for a long while staring at himself in the mirror. He stared at the man in front of him, sometimes shifting from his current self to the image of the seventeen year old who fell in love with his best friend. Kirishima felt tears well up in his eyes but rubbed them away, rough hands against soft skin, he rubbed his eyes until they were red and raw.

He got up and changed into slacks and a red t-shirt and looked at himself once again trying to find where that spark of hope was coming from. Trying to understand why suddenly he didn’t look familiar, where that gaping hole had unpatched itself. There was no denying that he couldn’t recognize who he was looking at, the child in him, the one he locked away a long time ago seemed to be clawing at his bars, begging to be released yet the black hair and sullen face remained like a never-ending prison sentence. Kirishima sighed and pulled out his laptop, typing out an apology to his boss and thanking him for being so understanding of the situation. He got up and decided that if nothing else he would clear his head today. He would remove any and all thoughts he was having about his past and about Bakugou and he would come back the same man who had his life sorted so he plugged his headphones in and went for a walk.

Kirishima was used to this neighborhood, he’s lived here for nearly two years and nothing really changed here. It was the same shopkeepers who called out the prices of their new wares to him as he walked past, the same kids who would run around and play tag or catch or whatever the game of the day was. The same people, same buildings, same lives. He liked it, he liked how much normality existed in his life. He liked the routine more than he would have cared to admit but something was different today.

Kirishima was different today, unlike most days when he would walk past without much occupying his mind today he was lost deep in thought. Thoughts of a blonde lover and the feeling of finding his other half, thoughts of dreams and promises, and adventures that were far from complete. Initially, he was resolved to not think about anything to do with Bakugou but as his steps raised in count and the cold air outside prickled at his skin all he could do was think about the blonde. So he took a deep breath and let himself feel, he let himself relax and let the thoughts consume him so he could let it run through him like water. Let it wash over him and remove whatever he couldn’t keep with him.

“Eiji can you um can you help me with this?” Kirishima smiled a little, the memory of a soft Katsuki Bakugou was something he held deep in his heart. No one believed him, the one time he mentioned how sweet and nervous Bakugou really was no one really believed him but he understood. Katsuki was something hidden, something private and Kirishima had been lucky enough to be allowed into that something. Kirishima was lucky enough to see the side Bakugou tried so hard to hide. Kirishima remembered what came after the question, he remembered turning his head to look at a nervous Bakugou Katsuki, clutching a notebook so tight Kirishima was sure it was going to tear. Bakugou hated losing, he hated not knowing and more than anything he hated asking for help so the fact that Bakugou had come to him meant more than Kirishima could put into words. Kirishima had had a crush on Bakugou since nearly the beginning of their high school careers but right now, with a fifteen year old Bakugou Katsuki standing above him, head hung low glaring holes into the ground was when he really began to fall. Of course Kirishima helped him, he stayed on the floor with his best friend explaining over and over the topic until Bakugou got it, until he smiled so wide with triumph painted across his features it made Kirishima’s heart feel warm.

He sighed at the memory, there was so much of Bakugou that Kirishima knew. So much of the blonde that only Kirishima knew and it would make him a little sad and a little happy but more than anything Kirishima was always grateful. He was so grateful for the right to be allowed inside his heart, grateful to be the one who could calm an explosion with just the touch of a finger. Bakugou was special and somehow, somewhere Kirishima became special to Bakugou.

Kirishima’s mind drifted to the first time Katsuki kissed him, he felt his eyes sting at the memory and his fists curled tight. It wasn’t a passionate taking over of his mind and body like their friends guessed but rather it was a question, something so soft almost a whisper that Kirishima almost didn’t hear “C-can I kiss you?”. It was a single question he asked, spoke as though he was afraid of what Kirishima would say, travelled through the little space that was left between them until he closed the space. Kirishima’s hands moved as though on instinct, cupping Bakugou’s face and pulling him close. It was kind and caring, the kiss was dipped in honey and smothering sweet like Kirishima knew just how much Bakugou needed it. Like he knew just how much of himself was wrapped in barbed wire and hidden away deep under layers of self doubt and insecurities.

Kirishima realised early on in their friendship how much of the child inside Katsuki Bakugou was beaten and moulded into what he is now, how much of the softness and the area to make mistakes was torn away to leave only this rough and scared boy. He realised how much Bakugou struggled with the idea of weakness, how afraid he was of failure and disappointing those around him and himself. Everytime Bakugou flinched when someone older than him raised their hands, the miniscule changes in his face when he was told he didn’t do enough. Kirishima knew the heaviness that weighed on Bakugou’s chest and he spent the better part of his high school career trying to remove it, trying to coax the sweetness back out of him.

“It’s comfortable with you, like you bring peace to my life.”

So Kirishima always kissed him soft, he always held his hands as though he was holding a new born and talked sweet. His hands would trace the lines on Bakugou’s face and the scars on his body, he would breathe into kisses and smile against the other boys lips. There was nothing fast or needy about the way the boys held each other, they took their time and learnt each other at a slow pace. They discovered pleasure and pain and became in tune to each others bodies and minds. Kirishima made it clear every time their bodies connected that he was here, he was in love and he would take care of the other.

Lost in his memories of his lover Kirishima finally found himself back at the restaurant, his feet had traced the path back to the restaurant and a single look inside the large window was enough to drop Kirishima’s heart down to his feet.

There he was, the boy he had just been day dreaming about except he wasn’t that boy anymore. He was older, taller, filled out his frame, his hair was trimmed at the back and sides and he had metal in his ears but that wasn’t what caught Kirishima. It was the way he was laughing, it was the simple fact that Bakugou was laughing. His head thrown back and his mouth open in a way that suggested loud guffaws. Kirishima felt a cold hand wrap around his neck as he watched the man he was so in love with laugh with another. The other man, hair half red and half white stood at the table opposite from Bakugou an unamused expression on his face.

Kirishima watched as Bakugou’s eyes crinkled and his expression settled into something that was comfortable, something that felt right at home, an expression he remembered fondly from when he would hold the blonde in his arms. It was an expression he wore only for Kirishima but here he was, with another sharing what Kirishima helped bring out. Maybe Kirishima would have worked up the courage to walk in there, to grab Bakugou and kiss him until he couldn’t breathe any longer. Maybe he would have slapped him, called him horrible names and blame him for giving up on them. Maybe he would have done many things if Bakugou hadn’t turned around to face him so instead Kirishima ran. He ran from the one person he had sworn to never run from, the one person he promised he would stick by. He ran until his lungs gave out and collapsed against a wall, he sat there trying to catch his breath, trying to expel the image of a laughing older Bakugou Katsuki from his mind but the harder he tried the harder it got.

He sat there, back pressed against the wall as images of Bakugou rushed past his eyes, his black tanktop and the way his skin gleamed against the dark color. The way his body fit so well into what he wore and the metal in his ears, the longer he thought about the more erotic the images in his mind became. Katsuki Bakugou was no longer a scrawny fifteen year old but he was older, he was built, he was undeniably attractive and a twenty three year old Eijirou Kirishima wanted nothing more than to be smothered by the other man.

Kirishima ran all the way back to his apartment again trying to shut out the thoughts that took over his brain but it was of no use. By the time he reached home his mind was so overcome with thoughts of Bakugou Katsuki all he could do was bee line to his washroom and fix the heat that began at the pit of his stomach with one hand in his pants and another covering his eyes.

After that day Kirishima made a promise to himself that he would never go to the restaurant again, he didn’t want to be imprisoned by Bakugou Katsuki, not again but he wasn’t so completely on board. Almost subconsciously he found himself adding to his jogging routine and going by the restaurant every morning, came out of his daze after work and realized he has once again walked past the restaurant so two weeks passed and now Kirishima was their most loyal customer and Bakugou was the most frequent visitor in his dreams.  A few days after trying to deny it he gave in and decided that if nothing else he would be able to see him, watch him smile, listen to him sing. If nothing else he could at least know that the one he loved once was happy.

It was one such day, Kirishima was sitting at the back finishing off a pastry and waiting for Bakugou to take the stage when a girl a few years younger to him walked over. “He’s not coming in today by the way.” She said as she cleared the empty coffee mug. Kirishima looked up at her, his eyes stretched wide in shock and unsure whether she was talking to him but one look at her face and he knew. “Our food isn’t that good also, don’t worry i won’t tell.” she said and winked at the boy before walking away.

A string of curses were let loose in Kirishima’s mind as he went over the possibility of her knowing he was here to see Bakugou, the even worse possibility of Bakugou knowing he was here but just before his mind could explode the girl returned. “Mina, it’s nice to meet you. My cousin runs the restaurant.” she said and stuck a hand out to him. Kirishima stared at her for a minute before gingerly taking her hand and shaking it. “Kirishima.”

“Oh calm down, I won’t tell on you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he replied and moved to get out of the seat and the restaurant. He had no intentions of meeting Bakugou, no intentions of him ever even knowing that Kirishima was here but here he was, cornered by this stranger.

“I’ve seen you around you know, in the morning you run across the restaurant and stop to stretch for a while and then I see you come in everyday in your suits to get food. Honestly at first I thought you just really liked our food but then I really saw you. He was singing that song, the sad one that he sings when he gets really upset and you were looking at him with such sadness in your eyes. You looked like all you wanted was right in front of you and you couldn’t bare not having it. You reached out your hand as if you were reaching for him and my heart broke Kirishima san-”

Before Mina could finish Kirishima was out of his chair and moving out of the restaurant though, his heart was thundering in his chest as he rushed back to his home. That night the dreams found him again except it was nothing and everything all at once. For the entirety of his dream all he did was watch Bakugou sing, he watched him sing the same song, eyes locked onto him but the whole time feeling invisible. It was like Katsuki was looking through Kirishima, like he didn’t even realise he was there though he was sitting right in front of him. Kirishima woke up in tears and didn’t sleep much the rest of the night.

It had been three weeks since Kirishima ran out of the restaurant, he made the most conscious effort to go nowhere near the place. Went out of his way to take a different route home, turned down any invitation to visit the restaurant again until Kaminari brought up the one thing he really couldn’t refuse.

“Hey man, so rehearsal dinner is this Saturday. It’s gonna be at that restaurant we went to and don’t worry it’s a small crowd so you won’t get smothered by people. Please come, it would mean a lot if you did.” Kaminari said to him, his eyes begging, over their lunch break. The date for Kaminari and Jirou’s wedding was approaching fast and as Kaminari’s only real friend in the city of course Kirishima was invited. He swallowed hard at the thought of going back to the restaurant but it was for his friend. He couldn’t let his friend down so he steeled his nervousness and nodded, of course he would be there.

When the day finally arrived Kirishima took as long as he could deciding how to look, even considered dying his hair back to the bright red it used to be but eventually decided against it. He wasn’t going to attract attention to himself, if anything he was going to try and blend in so he picked out a suit that was attractive enough that Jirou wouldn’t scowl at him but basic enough to not draw attention, got ready and left his house.

By the time he arrived there where quite a few people, Kaminari saw him almost immediately and dragged him over to his fiancee and their friends. “Congrats Jirou, it’s going to be amazing when he can finally stop saying ‘my to be’.” Kirishima told her and laughed alongside her. Kaminari introduced him to his other friends from university and some from his childhood before he was let go, Kirishima took a seat next to a man named Sero, a friend from Kaminari’s university. They engaged in idle conversation, mainly about their respective jobs and trading stories about Kaminari. Kirishima didn’t really have much to share but listening to their adventures and learning just how loud and energetic Kaminari used to be was a treat of it’s own. He was glad that his friend hadn’t changed much, jus’t matured a little and retained that glow he had. Their conversation didn’t last long though as soon the food was served and Kaminari stood up demanding that it was time for toast, Kirishima bit back a laugh as he raised his glass and started on his “101 reasons why Kyouka is the best” list and later forced down the rise of envy when Jirou pulled him down and kissed him to shut him up.

“I’m gonna marry you so you can never leave me.”

“I wasn’t planning on leaving anyway.”

Where was his happy ending, why was he the one destined to suffer and chase after someone who probably had forgotten all about him. Why couldn’t he move on. He felt his eyes stinging as he watched his friend attack his fiancee with kisses, the loud hollering of the other twenty year olds around him thankfully drowned out the drumming of his own heart beat as he watched.

Kirishima was so engulfed in his own thoughts and trying his best to be happy for his friends that he didn’t even notice the smile that grew on a certain pink haired girl as she finally zeroed in on her prey. She slipped away from the serving staff and ran back to the little room where Katsuki was getting ready to go on stage, “He’s here.” she said, out of breath from running so fast.

Katsuki’s face broke out in a nervous smile as he gripped his guitar tight, Mina had told him about the man who came to the restaurant solely to watch him sing. She had also apologized for chasing him away but here he was again, it was Katsuki’s second chance at this and he wouldn’t screw it up. He didn’t even know what the man looked like, what his name was, Mina had refused any information and simply told him to watch for the eyes. Katsuki had no idea what any of what she said meant at any point in time and often had written her off as a nineteen year old who was too smitten with her girlfriend to notice much else but he couldn’t deny the little excitement that was building in his stomach.

He waited until his cue was called and walked out, wincing a little at the unusual bright light. The restaurant was usually dimly lit with just enough light for everyone to comfortably see each other and the food but not bright enough for a stellar selfie.

“It’s the vibe Bakubro, you need to understand these things.” Mina had told him when he asked her about the lighting situation and he had simply shook his head. He had been working at the restaurant for around three years now, he met Shoto Todoroki in university and when he took over his fathers restaurant Katsuki joined him. The two had formed a sort of unlikely friendship, Katsuki would work in the kitchen during the morning and perform at night. He enjoyed his work, it let him sing and cook and still get paid for it and he was always in the company of good people though he would never really tell Mina or Shoto how much he appreciated having them around.

He smiled at the crowd and noticed the to be weds right away, sitting together hands tangled with each other, attached as if even a second away from the other would result in catastrophe. Bakugou smiled, he remembered that kind of a love but that was a long time ago and if he thought about it too much he wouldn’t be able to perform tonight. There would be no sad songs for tonight no matter how tightly the wire wrapped around his heart was pulled.

“Hey everyone, I’m Bakugou Katsuki and I’ll be your entertainment for the night. Congratulations to the happy couple, Kaminari Denki and Jirou Kyouka I hope you have a life of peace and comfort with each other.” He said, pouring as much sincerity into his words as he could. He watched the couple kiss before clapping for the singer and felt that familiar tightness in his chest but pushed it away like he had been doing for years now. He gave the couple a minute to come back to the rest of them before settling down and starting his music.

Kirishima felt like he was going to cry, he knew where the words Katsuki spoke came from. He had at one time wanted to say the same to Katsuki dressed in a white suit of his own but life was cruel and fate was a tricky game to play. He listened to Katsuki sing as he ate his food, sneaking glances at the boy while the others talked. He looked beautiful adorned in a simple red shirt and black pants, there was nothing extravagant about his clothes but he looked like he had stepped fresh out of a fashion magazine with the way his hair fell in his eyes and his silver chains glittered against his lightly tanned skin. Kirishima would forget to breathe if he looked at Katsuki too long but then again he always had trouble breathing around the blonde.

“Okay Kyouka it’s time.” Kaminari called out and stood up. He looked down at his betrothed and stuck out a hand, Kirishima only had time to register the look of panic in Jirou’s eyes and the one of challenge in Kaminari’s before he had pulled her out of her seat and onto the dance floor. “You said you were better than me on the dance floor? Time I prove you wrong.”

Just like that the mood in the restaurant had shifted as Bakugou changed the song and the tempo and Kaminari was spinning Jirou around. Soon people where up and joining in on the fun while Kirishima remained at his table and watched them, he loved dancing but he had loved dancing with Bakugou. He had loved a great many things with Bakugou and he simply did not have the strength to do it without him when he was right there. This didn’t stop Mina though, when she saw the boy remain at his seat she huffed and stalked over to him.

“C’mon don’t be so stuffy.” She said and pulled him out of the chair before he had a chance to protest. Kirishima tried to weasel his way out of the dance but Mina had a strong grip and he didn’t want to make a scene and ruin everyone’s night so he went along with it. Kirishima fell into the rhythm soon enough as Mina took him around the dance floor, practically leading him. He only noticed the song had slowed down when she stepped away and he was left standing point blank in front of the one person he was trying to avoid.

“..i’m still into you.”

As the song finished and the rest of the audience erupted in cheers Kirishima remained frozen in spot, his eyes locked with Katsuki’s. He felt his eyes fill up with tears as realisation spread across Katsuki’s face and his eyes widened at the sight of his first love, his childhood romance, the one who promised he would never leave. It was like time had frozen for the two men as they stood in front of each other and Kirishima was afraid to move. He was afraid that if he made even a fraction of a movement it would all disappear and Kirishima would be back on the floor of his apartment crying into his hands but Katsuki had no such fear.

He moved, he got up and he moved but before he could even get off the stage Kirishima had started to run. He backed away from the crowd, who by now where all staring at the two men, and ran out of the restaurant, forgetting everything else. The only thought that occupied his mind was to get away, he had to get away, he had to leave or the dream would be shattered. The fantasy would be broken, so he ran.

Katsuki on the other hand was left standing in front of his own stage, bewildered guests and a giggling Mina watching him for his next move. He blinked once, twice, trying to understand whether what he had seen was real or not.

“Hey man you okay?” Came a voice from his side, Katsuki whipped around to see the groom himself wearing a worried expression on his face.

“I-yeah. Oh god I’m so sorry.” He started, unable to believe that he just ruined their weddings rehearsal dinner. He bowed deeply and apologised over and over, completely going against his nature but this was someone’s wedding he had wrecked an he felt the guilt eat him up from the inside.

“Chill, it’s okay. Do you know Kiri?” Kaminari asked, patting the singer on the side of his arm.

The name sent chills through Katsuki’s body, he opened his mouth to respond but it was dry. Too dry so he closed his lips, swallowed and tried again, “Y-yeah. Kirishima and I went to school together. We were, we were friends.” he said, the word sounded hoarse in his mouth. It sounded wrong and out of place. Kirishima was never just his friend, he was so much more but how was he supposed to encompass years of admiration and adoration into a single word.

“Hmm, listen why don’t we get a drink? Kyo I’ll be back in a bit okay?” Kaminari called out and his fiancee nodded at him, offering a reassuring smile.

Kaminari led the still disoriented blonde to the bar and sat down with him, mentally preparing for whatever he was going to hear. Kaminari acted aloof, he pretended he didn’t see the longing looks Kirishima had sent towards the singer the first time they came here, he pretended he didn’t see the way Kirishima’s heart cracked when Kaminari was with Jirou but what happened on the dance floor. The way the song had come to an almost abrupt end, the intensity that followed when the two men locked eyes and especially the way Kirishima raced out the door. It really wasn’t something he could ignore anymore so he ordered two glasses of whiskey and got ready to listen.

Kirishima was hunched over his toilet seat as he puked up whatever he had eaten, seeing Katsuki, having Katsuki see him was too much. He had collapsed into his own home and made a beeline to the washroom, throwing open the door and expelling anything and everything that was in his stomach. Once he was done he slumped onto the marble floor, exhausted and sweaty. Katsuki had seen him, he had seen him, he had recognised him.

Eventually Kirishima dragged himself off the floor and stripped himself bare. He sat on the floor of his bathtub for what felt like an hour until the hot water started pruning his skin. He walked out and wrapped a towel around his waist, before he could leave Kirishima caught a glance of himself in the mirror and flinched. He hadn’t realised how tired he had become or how deep his dark circles had gone, he didn’t realise how skinny he had let himself become despite running in the mornings. His mouth tasted horrible and he looked like a reanimated corpse with all the concealer from earlier washed off. Kirishima splashed water in his face again and sighed deep, his hands pressed against the counter. He took a deep breath. This couldn’t go on, he couldn’t continue being so pathetically lost, chasing after someone who had given him up. Chasing after a dream that was long dead and gone. He picked up his tooth brush and began brushing at his teeth ferociously as thought attacking the germs would somehow remove what was deeper inside. Hot fresh tears fell from his eyes as he brushed but he refused to stop. Kirishima brushed his teeth until the tears stopped falling.

The bell rang just as he was changing, he turned to his bedroom door, eyebrows perked wondering who it could possibly be. He had already texted Kaminari and informed him that he was okay, just felt a little sick and didn’t want to ruin the party for everyone else and he had responded almost immediately. Had the other man really come to check on him? It was much too early for him to leave his own wedding party and if Kaminari really had followed him back home he was going to be positively eaten alive by guilt.

Kirishima walked to the door, his shirt lay forgotten on the bed as he walked to the door to open it and he regretted it the minute he opened it. If Kirishima had been just a little faster he probably could have slammed the door, he could have slammed the door and hid in his room until the other person went away but he wasn’t fast enough.

Katsuki anticipated this so he slipped a foot in between the door the minute it was opened, he winced when the door slammed against his foot but refused to move it. He wouldn’t mess up a second time, he wouldn’t loose him again.

“Eiji please.”

Kirishima closed his eyes as his breathing got faster, he was hiding behind his door. He couldn’t see him, he wasn’t ready for this, wasn’t prepared in any manner for this confrontation but what was he to do. Bakugou was standing on the other side, refusing to let him go so what exactly was he supposed to do other than let him in. He couldn’t exactly leave the other boy stranded out in the cold and if knew Kirishima knew anything about Bakugou it was that he was stubborn. He would wait outside and make himself sick until Kirishima let him in so he steadied himself, forced his hands to stop shaking and opened the door.

Kirishima opened the door and turned around, he didn’t want to look at him, wanted to go on pretending for however long he could so he didn’t look, he didn’t even acknowledge him and went straight for the couch. He took a seat on one side, eyes still trained on the ground as if he would miss the secrets of the universe if he looked away.

“Eiji…” Katsuki started, his voice soft and reserved like he was scared of what he was saying. Like if he spoke too loud or said something wrong everything would evaporate, Kirishima would disappear and he would be alone again so he swallowed deep and steadied his own hands before speaking again. “Eiji…” he started but stopped short, “fuck I don’t know what to say.” he whispered, rubbing the back of his neck.

Kirishima let out a small laugh, slapping his hands over his mouth when he realised but that seemed to be enough for some of the tension in the room to deflate. Katsuki took a seat on the other side of the couch, waiting for Kirishima to say something, waiting for him to at least look at him but nothing came so started again, “Eijirou I’m sorry.”

Kirishima nearly snapped his neck with the speed at which he turned to look at the other man, he didn’t know what exactly he was expecting. Maybe a confrontation, an angry Katsuki Bakugou demanding to know why he was being stalked, something but definitely not this. He didn’t expect an apology so when his eyes locked with the others he forgot to feel nervous.

“I know I’m about six years too late but I’m sorry for calling you the underdog, for dismissing your passions. I know I should never have let you walk away from that. Never should stopped fighting, I’m sorry I let you give up on us, walk away fro-” Katsuki couldn’t finish what he was saying though because within seconds Kirishima had tackled him to the ground.

“I GAVE UP? I WALKED AWAY?” He yelled as his grip tightened on the boys collar. Not even five minutes into seeing each other and they were back in twelfth grade, inches away from each other with Kirishima pinning Katsuki to the ground, anger and betrayal blazing in his eyes.

“I was not the one who threw everything away, I was not the one who refused to get help or listen, I was not the one who broke a lamp because someone else flirted, because someone else spread a rumour. I did not give up on us, you did. You gave up before we even had a chance to be saved.” He spat out, everything he’s been wanting to say piling to the top of his throat but the tears in his eyes had become too much.

He couldn’t see anymore, the water that had pooled in his eyes and was blocking his vision. He knew that if he opened his mouth again all that would come out would be sobs so he stayed quiet.

It was quiet for a while as the tears fell from his eyes and landed on Katsuki’s cheeks, they felt like acid burning through the years and years of denial he had built. He looked up at the other man, his eyes wide in shock as he finally, finally realised just what he had done all those years ago. Katsuki couldn’t find anything to say, he couldn’t find his voice so he did the only thing he knew how to, he pulled Kirishima in and wrapped his arms around the other man.

He tensed for a minute as Kirishima’s hands remained at his collar but within seconds his hands had slipped from Bakugou’s collar down to his chest. Kirishima tucked his head in the crook of Katsuki’s neck and let the tears come freely. He didn’t know why and he didn’t know what he was feeling all he knew was that Bakugou’s hands felt like home and he had been searching for far too long.

They stayed like that for longer than either one expected, Kirishima eventually falling asleep in Bakugou’s hold but he didn’t budge until he finally heard the little snores from the other man. Bakugou realised too late what had happened and a smile crept onto his face so he repositioned the other man so he could left him up and carried him to the bedroom. Bakugou placed him, gently on the bed and lingered for a minute. His hand ghosted the skin on Kirishima’s face, not daring to touch him, too scared that he would ruin it. He would ruin his peace again if he touched, if he even took a wrong breath everything would shatter and the sleeping man would be awake and afraid again. He stayed there and watched his chest rise and fall, watched the way his nostrils would flutter when he breathed and smiled to himself. A smiled that was so secret, tucked away only for the person who held his heart.

The snow began to fall as he watched his lover and soon enough the streets would be blanketed in white. Soon enough they would be stuck inside with the warmth of the house and the other, soon enough the universe would play it’s final card and maybe love really does find it’s way back. Katsuki slept on the couch that day, he couldn’t bare the thought of leaving, of travelling back to his own apartment, the empty bed and the cold tiles. He couldn’t leave when Kirishima was this close so he wrapped himself tighter in his coat and fell asleep on the couch.

Kirishima woke up to a cold room and a warm blanket tickling his nose, he blinked and looked around as memories flooded his brain but nothing seemed to match. He was alone in his bedroom, the door cracked just a little, he was dressed in his own clothes and there was no sign of a fiery blonde in his home. He sat up and rubbed his head wondering if he had somehow dreamt up everything that had occurred the night before. It couldn’t be, he couldn’t have dreamt up the pain that rose in his chest, he couldn’t have dreamt the feeling of Bakugou’s arms wrapped around him. He just couldn’t have fucking dreamt any of that, it had to be real.

And it was. A few steps into his living room proved that he didn’t make any of it up, that it was real because there, asleep on his couch was Bakugou Katsuki with his blonde hair flat against his forehead and winter coat wrapped tight around him. Kirishima sucked in a breath and stumbled back inside his room, not that it was real he didn’t know what to do. He wanted to talk, he could now, all the things he had wanted to say came to him at once, he could finally talk but fear gripped his heart like it always does. The iron clad fist that curled around his strength and courage anytime he thought of contacting Katsuki was back.

Kirishima clenched his fists and grunted, he pressed his forehead against the wall and slammed his fist against it, over and over until the roaring in his ears finally stopped and when he opened his eyes again Katsuki was standing there worry dripping from his eyes.

“Good morning.” Kirishima said, straightening himself to look the other man in the eye.

“I-uh good morning Eiji-” he started but was cut off but Kirishima’s hand in front of his face.

“Kirishima. You call me Kirishima.” he said and turned around to pick up a discarded t-shirt from the chair. “Are you hungry?”

“Yeah… okay Kirishima, let’s eat.” he said, his nails pressed against his skin to quell the heartache at the other mans words.

Kirishima wordlessly walked out of the bedroom and made his way to the kitchen, he could feel Bakugou walking behind him. He felt the energy that followed, he knew being told to call Kirishima Kirishima had struck him close to home but it was okay. Kirishima didn’t have the strength to hear his name play on Katsuki’s tongue so lovingly, he didn’t have a strong enough resolve to hear the way he called his name and not immediately jump into his arms.

Kirishima took out a pack of sliced bread and jam from his fridge, “what do you want?”

“Anything is fine.”

He nodded and went back to what he was doing, Kirishima would not let Bakugou bulldoze the conversation. He would not fall back into problematic patterns, he would be in control. He repeated these words in his mind over and over again while he toasted the bread and spread jam on the four slices. He made coffee for both the men, regretfully remembering the way Bakugou liked it.

Bakugou noticed and bit the inside of his mouth so as not to smile.

“What are you doing here?” Kirishima asked finally as he placed the food and drink on the kitchen counter. He leaned against it, standing opposite from Bakugou as he ate his toast and waited for a reply.

“I work here, at Shoto’s. Singing and cooking, it’s a pretty decent gig, we met in University…” he trailed off as he watched Kirishima’s expression tighten, “Not what you wanted to hear got it. Uh shit I don’t know Ei- Kirishima, I saw you at the restaurant and my first instinct was to chase you. Fuck I half thought you where a fever dream I cooked up until your friend explained that you were in fact real and well I don’t know how could I not follow.”

Kirishima watched Bakugou as he spoke, noticed the way his body tensed up and his face became unbearably sad. If Kirishima wasn’t yelling at himself to keep it together he probably would have caved and taken Bakugou in his arms again but he stood still and he listened.

“I haven’t seen you in so long Kirishima, you dipped like two days after graduation. Hell I didn’t even know you had gone until lzuku told me.”

“Izuku?” Kirishima interrupted him surprised that Bakugou had actually used Midoriya’s first name instead of the cruel nickname he had for the boy throughout their lives. He watched Bakugou’s face flush and his hand shot up to rake through his hair before he replied.

“Ah yeah, Izu and I patched things up. He helped me a lot after we um, after we ended. Our families get together a few times a year. He’s getting married next year.” Bakugou finished, embarrassment clear on his face.

“How unexpected, I suppose you have grown up Bakugou.” Kirishima said as he finished off his bread. “Why did you follow me?”

“Fuck Kiri I had to, I couldn’t let you go again. I know I fucked up back then, I know I did everything wrong and pushed you away. I know I didn’t deserve you then but I’ve worked on it every day since. I went to therapy Kiri, I found someone who specializes in adolescent anger issues and got help. I patched things up with Izuku, I made friends, real ones in University, one of them is even my boss now. I changed Kirishima I really have and I did every single thing with the hopes that I’d find you again someday. I’ll admit in the last year that hope had faded but it was still worth it, I changed because of you.” He said and took a deep shaky breath, Kirishima could see how difficult this was. Apologising, laying his emotions out in the open had always been difficult for Baugou but he was doing it. Kirishima could see the change clear as day.

“Because I never wanted to hurt you, you’re the last person in the world I wanted to hurt but all I did was hurt you and put you through so much pain while you stayed. God fucking dammit you always stayed with me. You stayed right next to me through everything and I’m so fucking sorry.” He said and moved around the counter to stand next to Kirishima. He took the boys surprisingly cold hands in his own and spoke again, voice quiet as a whisper, “I’m sorry Eijirou, please let me prove to you I deserve you now.”

Kirishima felt his defences fall as warning bells rang in his head, looking at Bakugou so close, begging to give him another chance all Kirishima wanted to do was claim him. To pull the blonde in and kiss him and ask him a thousand times over to stay this time but something held him back. The memories of all the struggle, of all the fights and difference in opinions remained like a sour taste in his mouth.

He removed his hands from Bakugou’s hold and took the dishes to the sink.

“I can’t do this again Bakugou, you hurt me. I gave you everything, my trust, my heart, I let you into all my insecurities and laid it all bare for you and then you had the nerve to throw it back in my face. You broke things, you yelled and caused a scene when anyone would even do so much as look at me. I can’t do that again Bakugou, I’m an adult man, I have a job, I have a life.” Kirishima said and stopped, he hadn’t dared to look at Bakugou yet afraid of what he would see but if he didn’t now he would never be able to so he turned around before speaking again, “I have too much self respect to be pushed around by you again.”

Kirishima locked eyes with the other man and watched as his face fell, watched as realisation washed over him and he stepped back. He stood still for a minute, eyes downcast and when he finally looked up they where filled to the brim with unshed tears.

“I’m so sorry Kirishima. I’m so fucking sorry. God I’m so sorry, I’m sorry I’m sorry..” he continued like that, mumbling, repeating his apologies as the tears spilled and his hands clutched at his shirt. Bakugou had realised many things, he had fixed and grown past many things but he had never even in his worst of nightmares imagined that he had hurt Kirishima so much and the knowledge was too much.

Kirishima wanted to console the other man, he wanted to tell him that he accepted the apology and it would be okay and they could start over. It was killing him to not do anything but he didn’t move for the millionth time that day. He watched for a little while longer until his heart got the better of him and he walked forward. Kirishima took Bakugou’s hands in his own, holding them so softly as if too strong a grip would break the blonde in two.

“Thank you. It’s okay. I’m not the same person I was back then and I don’t think you are either. It’s okay.” He said and ducked his head a little to look the other man in the eyes. “You’re okay.”

A few hours later and the two where seated on the couch, on opposite ends from each other as they filled each other in on their lives after high school. Katsuki had gone on to study cooking much to his parents dismay but he enjoyed it. It helped him keep calm and his therapist thought it was ideal for his explosive tendencies. He met Shoto at university and they had made plans to work together after University was over, Katsuki had never wanted to own a restaurant, he didn’t want to deal with all the politics and business that came with it so he took on the official title as chef. He had a few boyfriends after Kirishima but none had felt right, none had been able to see Bakugou the way Kirishima could. Kirishima would be lying if he said he stomach didn’t flutter hearing those words.

“Will you come to the restaurant tomorrow?” Bakugou asked as he stepped out of the apartment, ready to leave.

Kirishima pursed his lips and held the mans gaze as he thought it over and nodded, “I’ll be there.”

“Sit up front this time.” Bakugou said and smiled at him before leaving.

[psychicnymph]

what happened to aphroditedolan?

hi everyone. i’m here to address the questions that i know many of you will ask. my sudden departure from the dolan twins fandom was not an entirely impulsive decision, so i’m here to explain.

first and foremost, i deactivated because of the sheer amount of blatant, cruel, and unacceptable disrespect i endured while writing for fun and for free. i would spend hours, upon days, upon weeks, upon months working on projects and i still got this disrespect. people were critical of my appearance, my strong-willed and passionate nature, the way i presented myself online -- but, amazingly, never of my writing. see, truth be told, arrogance in tote, my writing is phenomenal. it was rare that you’d catch a spelling or grammatical error (which is a direct result of my educational privilege, i recognize), each plot was well thought-out, each descriptor would bring the scenery, the characters, the erotic scenes to life; you name it, i took the time to near-perfect it. i wrote, edited, sometimes went as far as rewriting -- my point is, i was dedicated. 

a few weeks ago, i even took the time to completely reorganize my blog; i gathered and linked all the small concepts & blurbs i wrote and put them into a masterlist, on top of updating my fic masterlist to be more aesthetically pleasing, cleaner, and editing pictures myself to put them on both masterlists. i did this because i was excited to continue the two short series which i had started: Let Me Get That For You and A Girl is a Gun. additionally, i had ideas, WIPs, and other projects i was planning and writing for that i couldn’t wait to embark on -- and then, it was like something changed in the fandom.

well, i suppose i can’t say changed. let’s say more like... got exponentially worse.

from the very beginning, there were two types of people who i noticed in the twins’ tumblr fandom: there were those who earned their numbers, and there were those who preached ideas of entitlement. there was also a hierarchy: big blogs, and small blogs. it was like a caste system of its own kind. i’d like to discuss this for a brief moment.

when i first started writing, i was absolutely nobody in the fandom. i wasn’t on other platforms, i hadn’t been a stan for very long, i didn’t know anybody -- the tumblr fandom was where i wanted to start and, for the most part, ended up staying. i mention this because at the time of aphroditedolan’s deletion, i was considered a “big blog.” how did i go from small to big, then? if it’s a caste system, how could i have transitioned?

the answer is simple. the system you all created doesn’t exist. in this fandom, you are either entitled or you are talented, and that’s about it.

i never sat around begging people to like, reblog, or read my work, and i never pleaded for followers. i got them because i put out good, consistent, beautiful writing. i interacted with people, i wrote for prompts, i reached out and cultivated friendships, i did what i went to tumblr to do: write and be part of a community that loved the dolan twins. that’s it. the numbers came through hard work, dedication, and most of all, earning every one of them. 

no one on this earth or any other is entitled to likes, reads, reblogs, comments, kind words, attention, followers, or anything of the sort. yes, everyone deserves those things; no, you shouldn’t just get them. you should strive to earn these things. and honestly, while i think everyone is deserving of a chance, not everyone is cut out to be a writer. not everyone is made or meant for this art. because it’s an art. it’s a skill that needs to be developed and practiced. you can’t just sit down and bang out some writing. you absolutely must be dedicated and passionate about it if you ever want a taste of being successful. and that’s just it; some of you are doing this for the wrong reasons. you do it for the numbers. numbers do not fucking matter. they aren’t even real. it’s just a count of people who have physically interacted with your post, or people who actually decided to follow you.

everyone deserves to have their craft appreciated, but when you just start writing for the attention you think it’ll get you, that’s not a craft. that’s you doing the things you see others doing because you see the attention they get and you want a piece of that for yourself. it’s a shitty, horrible motive. and then, when it’s obvious that writing isn’t your strongest talent or even a genuine passion of yours, you whine about some system that isn’t fair, you create something to blame for your lack of success -- of course, it must be the bigger blogs.

i’m proof that that just isn’t true and y’all are lying to yourselves. in less than a year, i ended up with 4k followers and extremely successful pieces. again, because i earned it. through time, effort, and dedication, i earned it.

another thing that came with the culture of entitlement in the fandom was people being self-pitying in order to evoke guilt in their audience, so that people would go and tell them, no, your writing is so good, keep it up. they did it as a means of getting the attention they hadn’t earned. people got into the habit of trying to use me for more attention. they would feign friendliness, interest in my blog, etc., all to say, hey, can you check out my writing and reblog it?

i don’t fuck with that shit. it’s a huge part of why i had to turn my submissions off and my messages off from people i didn’t follow. i don’t like people who only care about numbers and want to use me for more numbers. it was beyond disrespectful that people thought i couldn’t see what they were trying to do; honey, manipulation is a skill just like any other, and i’m better at it than you are. don’t try it on me.

besides the overly-entitled, suffocating people who would shit on, criticize, and blame others for their low numbers which resulted from their sheer lack of effort and self-awareness (and by this i mean actually stopping to question 1. what is your motive here and 2. is what you’re producing actually good or is it slapped together messily?), there was also the culture of feedback to the writer from the audience. 

it was rare that i’d get any other response on my writing besides “part 2?” “more?” “part 2 plzzzz” “you need to update this” and etc.

how many times is the writing community gonna have to say that those comments aren’t helpful, kind, supportive, constructive, or ANYTHING besides annoying? they’re demanding. they push the idea that they just want more of the same ol’ shit. even after i made it blatantly clear on more than one occasion that i don’t take requests and would not be adding a part 2 to something unless it was upon my own discretion, there were still constant, never-ending, tireless requests for more, or requests in general. it was frustrating and infuriating. i was so tired of repeating myself. and when i stopped repeating myself and started linking people to asks or my FAQ where i had already answered that question, people wanted to act like i had an attitude. people gave me endless grief that i was a bitch, aggressive, had a shitty attitude; no, babe. i just wasn’t tolerant of poor treatment. you should try to start adopting this attitude for yourself. respect yourself and know your worth. it’s really as simple as that.

when the biphobic comments rolled around, i’d had enough. it’s when i decided to take my break, truly because i was furious (as i had every right to be) and because that whole situation made me not want to write at all. all my passion and motivation to finish projects i’d been so excited to do for you guys went out the window. it’s sad that y’all pushed me over the edge this way. i gave it time, i let the wounds heal, i let the anger fade, and i started an official hiatus to do this. i’m also in school again, which meant i’d be less active anyway, and it felt like a good idea to just put some distance between myself and the tumblr fandom. but the distance has only solidified the feeling that i’m just not appreciated as much as i deserve to be. and i don’t mean in numbers. i mean for the amount of effort i put in to get constant backlash on things that don’t even have to do with my writing, to work so hard only to be pissed the fuck off, to dedicate so much time and energy to a group of people only for y’all to erase my identity, send me hate, try to act big and tough and like you’re the shit behind anonymous... i’m good luv, enjoy.

there are also other factors; truths about some of the people in the fandom that are idolized, the constant plagiarism of my work, the overwhelming sense of responsibility that came with keeping up with my blog like it was a job, among other things that i don’t care to elaborate on.

so that’s it. i got tired of the same old shit and i know i deserve better. below, i’ll answer some questions that i think some people may be left with:

are you and luna still dating?

yes. for the last time, yes. we are dating. we are a couple. we love each other. we are in a long distance relationship and we are actually dating. not like two besties pretending to date because it’s quirky -- we are actually. fucking. dating. and no, nothing happened between us to make me make this decision. we are doing great.

are you gonna write ever again?

in my life? yes. for the twins, in this fandom, or on this platform? fuck no.

are you still a fan of the twins?

yes! oh my god, probably always. no matter where they go or what they pursue, i’m there with them. they have made my life better, and i have a lot to thank them for. i’ll just be enjoying their content from alllllllllll the way over here.

are you gonna be blogging about the twins?

not at all. in fact, i don’t even follow rockstardolan because i’m keeping my dash away from all of that. i’m not following any dt related blogs. i’m gonna do my thing over here, and love the twins in private, on my own terms. 

why did you delete all your writing?

in truth, after everything, i don’t even want it to remain there. i essentially wanted to erase my contribution and my footprint on this fandom. plus, having my writing just out and about, having already been plagiarized so i’m sure you can find some things in various illegal wattpad compilations, makes me worry about more people doing that. i wanted to keep that damage to a minimum. so yeah, they’re gone forever. 

what about your friends, people you interacted with, etc?

the people who matter will stay in touch. there are some people i’ve cut out from my life for good because they’re toxic and quite frankly i just don’t like them. i’m done subjecting myself to people i don’t even fucking like for the sake of keeping others happy. but, the good friends who respected me, treated me well, etc, they’ll reach out when they can. i’d say i encourage it, but i have a lot on my plate as is and have a hard enough time keeping up with things in the real world, let alone things online. there’s still love there, i’m just keeping a safe, healthy distance and doing what’s best for me. 

if you have other questions, you can feel free to ask, but i’m really not in the market for new friendships. it’s not that time in my life. i literally cannot handle more than what i’ve got on my plate, and i’m keeping my priorities in order. i don’t care if you think i’m rude, if you think i’m a bitch, if you think i’ve got a bad attitude, if you think i’m a piece of shit, if you’re angry, if you’re sad, even if you’re gonna miss me -- this is for me. i’m letting this out as a big, fat fuck you to the things and people that ruined my experience on aphroditedolan, and as an explanation for the few people who deserve it.

take care of yourselves. do the things that make you happy. don’t tolerate things that don’t make you happy. do no harm, take no shit, and most importantly,

stan the FUCKING dolan twins.

signed,

daniella/dani/aphroditedolan, however you have known me. 

[shitty-tf2-headcanons]

Mercs with a girlfriend whos autistic and has body stims, and is insecure about it? Specifically rocking and chewing? Maybe include them catching her rocking while she was alone or seeing maybe one two many chewed up bottle caps or plastics in the trash? As you can tell im self indulgent and I like comfort

Ayy there ain’t nothing wrong with being self indulgent, self indulgence is why I created this blog. And hey, who doesn’t like comfort? Being comforted is like the 2nd best feeling in the world.

Scout- He doesn’t know why he looked. Something in his gut told him...but that doesn’t make any sense to him. Why would a gut feeling tell you to look in a trash bin and pick up a green bottle cap. It looked chewed to all hell. Teeth marks littered the small piece of plastic. Another one was pulled out at random. A yellow cap with the same marks. Rooting the trash revealed more and more chewed up caps. He wasn’t confused or upset. He was more...curious than anything. He decided that the best way to sate this curiosity was to talk to her directly. He tells her that he found the bottle caps and he of course panics when she looks just as panicked as him. 

“No no i-it’s okay! I chew on my pencils sometimes! And-And I chew on my fingernails! Look look, see? You don’t have to feel b-bad...”

The bandages are peeled off his hands to reveal red nail bitten fingers. He tries to joke that at least chewing on caps doesn’t lead to an infection...he hopes anyway. He doesn’t want you to feel ashamed about the way she is. If he mocked her for chewing on plastic, he might as well wear a sign that says “BIG FREAKING HYPOCRITE”. He always makes sure to remind her she has nothing to hide from him.     

Soldier- He’s caught her a couple of times. He’s seen her rocking in their bedroom and sometimes the rec room. She always seemed to do it alone though. Soldier was never known for his wits or intelligence. No, this man is famous in the team for jumping to conclusions. Once he saw you rock again, he thought back to his time with Merasmus. The wizard sometimes rocked in a similar manner...was his girlfriend a wizard too? Was this some sort of summoning ritual? But what would she be summoning? Aha! A warm blooded American like her (he thinks this even if she’s not American) must be summoning the spirit of George Washington! The next time he catches sight of her rocking, he busts right in and take a seat next to her. Not noticing the panicked look on your face, he copies your rocking movement. She asks him what he’s doing. He, of course, tells her that he’s helping her summon the ghost of George Washington. She then has to explain to him what stimming is.

“Oh. This is...stimming. Can we still try to summon George Washington?” 

She tells him that they can try and he is beyond excited to see George again. Her rocking doesn’t bother him, it never bothered him to begin with. To him, it’s just something she does. Nothing to feel bad about. Though he promises to beat the crap out of this “Insecurity” she keeps talking about. She has nothing to worry about when around her Soldier (though she still worries he somehow summoned Washington without her knowing).    

Pyro- At first, they didn’t think much of it. So she liked to chew on bottle caps, that wasn’t a big deal at all. They remember all sorts of weird things they used to chew on as a kid. Rubber, hair, plastic, nails, etc. You name it, they chewed on it. They’re about to move past it when they realize something else. All that chewing eventually lead them to chewing on more meaty parts of their body, like their arms and hands. What if...what if she was doing that too? The thought of their girlfriend harming herself brought tears to their eyes. His girlfriend was in for quite a shock when Pyro burst through their door, sobbing loudly behind their mask. They gesture for her to hold her arms out and she obliges. They check her arms and let out an audible sigh of relief when her arms looked to be bite free. His girlfriend asks him what all this was about. Pyro pulled out one of her chewed up caps, though they quickly put it away when they saw the look of shame and embarrassment. They explained (or mumbled rather) that they used to do the same thing, so they understand why she would feel embarrassed and insecure. Pyro reassures her as long as she’s not hurting herself, she’s perfectly fine. They even collect clean bottle caps and give it to her as a little gift.

Demo- He sees her doing it. It’s stimming, right? He sure hope it is, he remembers some of the kids from his orphanage were autistic too. He was even friends with a few of them. They used to do the same thing, rocking and such. He used to laugh about it, it was a little funny to watch honestly, but he quickly realized his mistake when they made an even bigger effort to hide from him. He admits he could be a shitty little kid sometimes. So it’s not surprising that he feels like that guilty little kid again. Why does she feel insecure about it? Did somebody say something? He just sighs and takes a sip of scrumpy. He can’t have his fav lass feeling so down around him or anyone. So he walks into the room, right when she was in the middle of rocking, and takes a seat next to her. He sighs and slowly grabs her hand, squeezing gently

“Aye lass...ya know I love ya, right? Nothing ya do is ever gonna change that.”

He’s not going to make her stop. It helps her with her emotions, right? So why make her stop doing something that’s beneficial to her? Plus, just like when he was a kid, it’s going to make him chuckle sometimes. He’s obviously not going to say it aloud but it’s funny to watch. But also calming in a way. Just watching you rock puts him in a state of tranquility. 

Heavy- He keeps finding soda caps in the trash. They always appear to be chewed on? He’s confused to say the least. Is somebody so hungry that they resort to eating plastic? Why though...there’s plenty of food on the base. He considers leaving out sandviches for this mysterious chewing person. He’ll do that later. Maybe his girlfriend might know something. He presents her with a few chewed up caps and asks her if she knows something. The look on her face  simultaneously breaks his heart and strikes fear in it. Oh no he made a mistake, here here, just take $7000, go shopping, please don’t be sad. He’s gonna go to Medic and ask him about it. He’s gonna feel like a big insensitive idiot when the doctor explains to him that she’s simply stimming. Oh, that makes sense. He’s gonna bashfully approach her and apologize for making her feel a certain way.

“Am sorry for embarrassing you. Heavy did not understand. This...stimming...is fine. You are fine.”

He wish he could say more but his English is still in need of work. He just wants you to be comfortable and happy. If that means chewing on bottle caps, go right ahead. Heavy does not judge. He may even give her some bottle caps if she wants some. Anything for his beloved. 

Engineer- Dad mode activated. Is she okay? Is something wrong? Seeing her rocking alone is immediately gonna worry him. He has a vague idea of stimming and autism since a few of his classmates and cousins were autistic. Though he only really saw them do it when they were overwhelmed and that worried him. She’s overwhelmed, isn’t she? Well that won’t do at all. Cue the montage. This man is gonna do everything in his power to make you comfortable. Dim the lights, quietly berate the team for making too much noise, make the team dinners into something you like all the time. Engie is nice and all but everyone (gf) can see something is bothering him. His gf is probably gonna have to confront him. He’s gonna look embarrassed and try to make it seem like something isn’t wrong. But, being the honest good boi he is, he’s gonna crack and admit the truth.

“I see you rocking sometimes. I know you’re different and all but are you okay? I just want you to feel at home in the base here, honey bee. 

That’s when she’s gonna have to explain to him how stimming works. Yes, she does it do because she’s overwhelmed, but she also does it when she’s feeling a strong emotion. It’s calming for her. Engie is gonna be both relieved and happy when he hears that it’s a calming mechanism for her. But he’s gonna be worried again when she admits that she’s insecure about it. Insecure? Why should she feel bad about something that makes her feel better? Either way, he doesn’t want his love to feel bad anyway. So she’s gonna have to deal with his constant reminders that he loves her and his constant feats to make her comfortable in the presences of the public and himself. 

Medic- Oh, she’s stimming. He isn’t surprised considering she’s autistic. He already kinda knew she was autistic after the first few days of knowing her. He is a doctor, after all. A crazed one but not a dumb one. So he’s okay with her chewing. But he’s really not okay with her chewing on bottle caps of all things! Gott, doesn’t she know how dirty these cheap factory made caps are?! Think of all the germs!! Their wearing down her precious teeth!!! Ahem, as a semi professional doctor, he doesn’t scream these complaints at her. Rather, he tells her out of nowhere while he’s working that he knows about her cap chewing. 

“Those caps of yours carry so many germs, mäuschen, you don’t vant a dirty mouth, do you? Not to mention that they wear down you’re lovely teeth.”

He says it so calmly and offhandedly that it’s easy to assume that he doesn’t care that much or he’s insulting you. Quite the contrary, he cares very much about matters that concern your health. He doesn’t mean to sound mean. Plus, he does show he cares when he gets you a couple of chewy toys or items, ones that won’t wear down your teeth. Wait you’re insecure about your stimming? Now you’re just being irrational. It’s completely natural for someone like her. How can he shame you for stimming, he would have to admit he has failed as a doctor and boyfriend if he did such a thing. He encourages you to stim with the items he bought you.

Sniper- Growing up in the middle of nowhere with two parents and spending most of his life in near isolation, he’s not gonna know much about autism. Least of all what stimming is. So he’s not gonna judge her for her behavior or mannerisms. That’s just how some people are, can’t really do much when it comes to how people’s minds work. He’s caught her rocking sometimes. Though he only sees her doing when she thought he was asleep or in the other room. Ah, he figures that it’s something she likes to do in her private time. Perfectly understandable. So he just pretends he doesn’t see anything and just moves on with life. Though there comes the day when he accidentally walks in on her rocking. They both freeze and just stare at each other. The look on her face reminds her of his own face when’s been caught pissing in jars or baby talking a cute stray. Shame and embarrassment. He closes the door and just isolates himself. He embarrassed her. He loathes embarrassment and he just hates himself for just making her feel that way. After returning from his self banishment, he’s gonna immediately apologize.

“Mmm sorry...didn’t mean to barge in on your personal space, roo. Wasn’t thinking straight...” 

Whether or not she tell him what stimming is, he’s gonna respect her privacy. He’ll leave the room if she starts stimming or stay out if she is stimming. It’ll always be “her” private activity so he’s not gonna invade her privacy. He’ll gladly stay if she says it’s okay for him to stay with her. He knows that she’s insecure about it and he understands completely, he’s one of the most insecure people on the team. To combat her insecurity, he’ll chase everyone out of the room if she needs to stim or remind her that you just do you. 

Spy- He’s not gonna actively root through some trash Scout  but he does notice some chewed up caps. He’ll raise an eyebrow. Well, sees like someone on the team has a bit of a chewing problem. He’s willing to bet that it’s either Scout or Pyro.  Being the nosy bitch he is, he’s gonna pay extra close attention to his team. His girlfriend isn’t safe from his snooping either.  He quickly learns it’s her when he’s cloaked and he catches her chewing on some bottle caps in the (supposed) privacy of her room. He watches her for a bit before slinking out the room. He doesn’t tell. Of course he doesn’t. But he does want to talk to her. He’s just not sure what to say. He’s not bothered by her chewing, it’s just another special little quirk of hers. He’s mostly worried that confronting her about it will lead to her getting emotional and he’s just not ready to handle that. But he sometimes say things that hints that he knows about her stimming.“Mon amour, do you want me to buy you something from the grocery store? Some water bottles, perhaps? Or some sweets, maybe?”She shouldn’t be too surprised when she sees that some brand new chewy items have been left in her room. If she doesn’t use the items as left, then she’s gonna find a stack of bottle caps. The caps look and smell cleaned? It’s obvious who's leaving these gifts around. To help with her insecurity, she’s gonna be receiving a lot more soft kisses that seem to last longer than usual. Still insecure? He must buy more of what she wants and needs.

Miss Pauling- She’s rarely home long enough to catch her stimming. She usually comes in, gives her a quick kiss, drinks some coffee, and is out to work again. So her girlfriend can stim all she wants in the safety and privacy of her home. Pauling is well aware of stimming so she already knows her girlfriend stims. But she does find it a little odd that she never sees her stimming in front of her. But she doesn’t dwell on that thought too long since she needs to focus on the work at hand. She only catches her gf in the act when she finally gets her yearly day off. She stumbles into the house in the dead of night, ready to crash and enjoy the day sleeping and cuddling her girl. She walks into the room and sees her rocking. At any other time, she would sit and talk with her. But now? She was already half asleep and didn’t fully comprehend the gravity of the situation or how embarrassed her girlfriend looked. She just sleepily mumbled.“Sorry babe, did I interrupt...I’m so tired. Come lay with me please...I wanna lay in those soft arms forever...”She’s gonna hit the bed and pass right out, whether or not she was in her girlfriend’s arms. She only realizes everything in the morning. She’s kinda embarrassed about how she acted. But at least she got to see you stim! But she looked embarrassed...was that why she did it alone. Then she feels shitty for interrupting. She doesn’t feel the need to talk with her about it. She just lays with her on the couch all day and watches whatever she likes. She’s a lot more affectionate with her that, but only if her girlfriend is okay with it. When she’s busy at work, she’ll make sure to leave little cheesy love notes everywhere. And her short breaks are spent in her girlfriend’s arms. She loves her for who she is.

[weartirondad]

Sorry (Is All That You Can Say)

Prompt “Bullying”: A case of bullying goes too far and Peter ends up in a hospital (not self-harm related, there is a real accident). He is unconscious so his friends visit and Tony and May try to get a clear picture of what happened but everyone has a different side ( @irondadgroupie)

FF.net I ao3

Ned

Oh man. Today really wasn’t his day.

It had started with a surprise chemistry quiz in first period and while Ned was anything but stupid, Chemistry really wasn’t his best subject and to get good grades he actually had to put effort in. Unlike some chemistry-genius-superhero he knew who had finished with ten minutes to spare.

Peter had aced the quiz, of course, and while he did try to look contrite during lunch it just wasn’t the same when he wasn’t as miserable as Ned felt. There seemed to be something else on his best friend’s mind all day that kept him from tapping into his empathy all the way to really get Ned’s distress.

Usually he would’ve asked but as it was, he was sulking about his own shitty day. He was allowed to those, right?

After lunch they had gym which, you know, just made everything worse in general because it was gym. There was no rope climbing today but the joy over the announcement quickly dissipated the second their teacher got out the basketballs.

Now that was just great.

Running around was not his thing. Least of all while having to dribble a stupid orange ball that he could swear had a mind of its own. And catching. Also not one of his talents. Or throwing for that matter. Why did this day have to rub everything he wasn’t good at in? Shouldn’t shit like that be evenly spread between a couple of days, if not months? Was fate really that cruel?

(Yes, maybe he was being a little dramatic.)

But gym was almost over and after that he could finally put an end to the horrible, awful, depressing portion of this day and move on to better and brighter things. Like math homework.

While Ned squatted down to get his water bottle he mindlessly rubbed his upper arm that had taken a hit from a stray basketball earlier in the game. Great, that was going to be another bruise. He was just preparing to take a sip when he heard a loud crash and then a few seconds of complete, terrifying silence.

Frowning he turned around to see what the ensuing commotion was about.

A crowd had started to form right next to their playing field on the other side of the hall. He could make out Emily yelling for the teacher who was already hurrying over towards them. Some other girls were squatting down next to whoever must have fallen and even MJ looked slightly worried and kind of angry which were more emotions than she usually showed anyone.

That was his first hint that something was wrong.

Instinctually Ned tried to make out Peter in the crowd, expecting his friend to be on the side lines as long as he wasn’t actively needed.

Even before the spider bite crowds of screaming people had tended to get to him and Ned was worried about him slipping into another sensory-overload-induced-anxiety attack. He only got more worried when he couldn’t find him anywhere.

Pushing himself back up, the sweat dripping from his forehead to the floor almost making him slip in the process, he started running towards his classmates. His sneakers squeaked hitting the linoleum floor, his heart that hadn’t yet calmed down from the game earlier was now threatening to jump out of his chest and his lungs were screaming but he didn’t pay his body any mind because the longer he went without getting a visual on his stupid best friend the more anxious he got.

Surely Peter wouldn’t… No, he was a superhero! He wouldn’t just collapse in gym class. That was a thing that could’ve happened to pre-bite Peter who always forgot his inhaler. The scrawny teenager that could barely finish the first lapse and refused to hand in his doctor’s note so he wouldn’t have to. It would not happen to this crazy enhanced version of his best friend who jumped from skyscrapers and did back flips for shits and giggles.

No way.

He pushed past Flash and his idiot friends, only noting in passing that the boy seemed a lot more subdued than he had before. Maybe someone tripping in gym could get even an asshole like Flash to shut up for once in his life.

Once he got to the heart of the commotion, though, the thought completely slipped his mind because there, on the floor, lay his idiot best friend. Unnervingly unmoving, eyes closed and with blood slowly leaking from the brown mob of curls.

Holy crap.

“What the hell happened?”

He didn’t really hear the answer to the question, too preoccupied with his unconscious friend. He only gave himself five seconds to internally freak out before he dropped down next to him and started shaking him, trying to get him to wake up. Without success.

Okay, Ned. Think, think, thin –

Mister Stark!

Mister Stark always made Peter call him when he was hurt. Surely Iron-Man would be able to help, right?

His left hand was resting on Peter’s chest as gently as possible while he started flailing his right to the side. “Get me Peter’s phone. Right now,” he yelled at whoever was standing closest to him.

He could do this. He just had to call Mister Stark and the man would know what to do. He would get Peter to wake back up. He would get the best doctors to help Peter. Everything was going to be okay.

Everything was going to be okay.

It had to be.

-

MJ

“How’s he doing?”

Her voice sounded foreign in her own ears. Too quiet, too unsure in the empty hall that led to the school’s emergency room. She had disliked hospitals ever since visiting her grandma after a surgery and this part of the building looked enough like one to make the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and a shiver run down her spine even though she wasn’t really cold. That didn’t stop the chilly feeling in her bones, though.

She tried not to show how uncomfortable she was as she plopped down on one of the seats, leaving another empty between her and Ned who was still in his gym clothes that were clinging to his sweaty skin.

The boy looked up from where he had been staring at his fidgeting hands and tried to send her something akin to a smile. It was more of a grimace than anything else but she could appreciate that he tried to put her at ease.

“He’s going to be okay. The paramedics are prepping him for transport.” He sighed and suddenly looked lost, where his exuberant nature usually filled every room he was in. He was a lot like Peter in that way but with a pure lightness that came from not having experienced any personal tragedies yet. Hesitantly she reached out to give his shoulder what she hoped was a reassuring squeeze before awkwardly letting her hand drop back down to her lap.

Ned looked thankful regardless.

“Mister Stark wanted to get him transferred to the Tower but the emergency doctor said it’s safer to bring him to a hospital with a department for neurosurgery. Just in case,” he trailed off with another sigh. “They don’t know what’s going on inside his head yet but since he hit it somehow they’re suspecting a contusion. Which isn’t too bad at least from what I googled. They’ll be running a CT scan when they’re at the hospital and Mister Stark promised to call as soon as there are any news.”

“He’s going to be okay,” she tried sounding optimistic, something she didn’t usually put much effort into, “I’m guessing Stark won’t let him be anything else. He’s gonna get the best doctors money can buy.”

She realized with a start that she wasn’t even mad about some billionaire having access to better medical care right then. She had watched said billionaire rush into the building, clad in a three piece suit that probably matched the important meeting he had been called out of, his usually flawlessly styled hair a mess and he had looked as worried as she felt. If not more.

There had been a sort of fire in his eyes that she hadn’t believed him capable of. Something fierce and unconditionally loving. He had made no pretense that he would do anything to make this better and that made her like him just a wee bit more.

“Yeah,” Ned agreed, not picking up on her inner musings about the man both him and Petr idolized more than she thought people should be idolized. “Helen Cho is already on her way from California.”

The way he said it, like it was no big deal that one of the most renown medical doctors in the world had just dropped everything to fly out to New York to look after a random teenager was nothing unheard of, made her pause. Even if said teenager was Tony Stark’s mentee.

She frowned. “Does she do that often?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Mister Stark goes a little over board sometimes,” he told her, corners of his lips twitching upwards ever so slightly. “He made her come here to treat Peter when he had the flu last month. But I think she likes him or she wouldn’t be doing it. That reminds me-”

Michelle cocked her head to the side when he stopped midsentence, encouraging him to keep going.

“Uh, Mister Stark and the paramedics asked me what happened and I realized that I – I didn’t even know.” His voice dropped down to a whisper. “I was on the other side of the gym and I only got there when he was already unconscious and –“

“Flash tripped him,” she interrupted his rambling, flinching inwardly at how detached it sounded when she felt anything but.

Suddenly there was a surge of anger in her chest, pushing her worry to the side as she sat up straighter. Anger was easier to focus on than concern. She hated being the scared and helpless girl it turned her into. “He held out his leg on purpose when Peter was getting off the field and collecting the last balls to help clean up and he could see that he wasn’t looking so, like the asshole he is, he tripped him.”

“Figures,” Ned sighed again.

She really hated how often he made that sound. It sounded too much like he was okay with this, as if that’s just a thing that happened and he couldn’t do anything about it.

“Why aren’t you angry?” she all but snapped, “That piece of … Flash keeps bullying the two of you and you’re never doing anything about it! You just let it happen! And now Peter’s unconscious because that – that asshole tripped him on purpose. How are you not livid?”

Her heart was thumping uncomfortably loudly in her chest when she met Ned’s gaze that had snapped up some time during her rant. She didn’t know what she had expected but it hadn’t been the flash of indignation in his eyes and the grim line his mouth was set in.

“You want to know why I’m not angry?” he repeated incredulously, voice slow and quiet and so very different from what she was used to from Ned Leeds.

A part of her realized then that she had stepped out of line. They weren’t friends after all. She didn’t do friends.

“I’m going out of my mind with worry for my best friend,” he told her steadily but his voice started rising, “I’m scared shitless that it might be real bad and of course I’m angry. I’m angry whenever Flash starts bullying Peter. I hate that there’s nothing he ever does about it but I’ve known Peter long enough to know that he prefers it this way.”

“Wha –“

“No,” he cut her off with a wave of his hand and, jumping to his feet, he started pacing in the narrow hallway. “He prefers being Flash’s favorite victim because that way he doesn’t go looking for someone else. And of course that’s messed up but try telling the idiot that. There’s nothing I can do to change his mind. You know what I can do, though?”

It sounded like a rhetorical question so she didn’t answer even when he kept glaring at her.

“I can be his friend and pick him up when Flash’s teasing does get to him. I can be his best friend and spend time with him and make sure he knows that that’s just one bully talking and that he’s none of the things getting thrown in his face. And that’s hard and it’s an unfair world and it makes me so mad but he deserves to have someone in his corner. So I do that, every day. Because he’s my best friend and I love this stupid self-sacrificing idiot. But you don’t get to lecture me about not being angry enough when he’s hurt because you do none of that.”

Ned seemed to inflate after his outburst, continuing with a soft and tired voice and she felt hot red shame creep into her cheeks.

“You might not be bullying him like Flash does but you aren’t nice to us either. You call us losers and barely glance at us and I know you consider us friends and it’s your warped up way of showing you care but sometimes he just needs someone to be nice who genuinely cares for him. Like today, he was already having a bad day and I didn’t.. I didn’t ask him about it. Maybe he would’ve seen it coming if I had helped him before.”

“It’s not your fault,” she whispered, anger vanished only leaving shame and regret that filled her whole being. Ned was right. “I’m sorry.”

He smiled softly, a small raise of the corner of his lips, eyes open and gentle and not condemning like she felt they should be. “You don’t have to apologize. Just… think about it, will you? He doesn’t blame you, you know. And I’m just… I’m really glad he has Mister Stark in his corner now, too.”

And that – that Tony Stark, the man she made out to be the Anti-Christ more often than not, the spoiled billionaire, the poster child of emotionally constipated had gotten his head out of his ass before she had to openly care about Peter Parker – that stung.

“I’m glad he has him, too.”

-

Tony

There were two opposing parts battling for dominance in Tony’s body at the moment.

The one that had been there all his life, hectic and jittery and unable to stand still when it counted. It had his entire being screaming to pace in the small hospital room, to release the tension by doing something, anything at all. He felt like every fiber, every cell, was moving on a speed so high they were effectively vibrating, making his hands shake and heart flutter when he didn’t comply with the motion.

The other part was currently winning.

This part was a new, barely-there, still opening bud but for how young it was, it was all-encompassing and inevitable. It made his muscles cramp with the need to comfort and protect and it wouldn’t let him move even an inch from where he was standing at the top of the bed in the intensive care unit of some Midtown hospital that held his single most prized possession. His fingers were itching to run through the messy curls but he wouldn’t relent, too scared to jostle any of the devices currently attached to the kid.

The kid - Peter, his Peter - looked impossibly small in the large bed surrounded by beeping machines, countless IV stands and devices Tony wasn’t completely sure what they were supposed to do but also didn’t care about.

Much like Tony he was still, too.

Unnaturally still for an enhanced teenager that could talk for hours on end without missing a beat, who would make Tony lose his mind with his hyper nature that had him almost topple from whatever he was sitting on every other day and who went slinging through New York in his free time.

So he made do, yielding to the ever-growing parental instincts in his chest, and rested his hand on his kid’s arm, thumb brushing over the warm skin in an effort to soothe him even though he knew there were so many drugs running through his system that the touch would most likely not even register.

Waiting in hospital rooms with nothing to do, no way to fix a thing, never did get easier he had come to realize.  There was always an internal struggle of whether to be mad or relieved, devastated or thankful, glum or hopeful.

A timid knock on the door made him snap out of his spinning thoughts, mind quickly running through possible intruders – friend or foe – and coming to a standstill when a teenager that wasn’t Ned poked his head past the door. The unfamiliar boy’s eyes went wide and hadn’t he been so emotionally drained, Tony would’ve scoffed at the ridiculousness of the scene. As it was he just squeezed Peters hand more tightly in a wordless promise, a silent vow to protect.

“Can I help you?”

“I, uh, I’m sorry, I, uh, didn’t, uh, didn’t mean to- to intrude, sir,” the boy stammered, hand curling around the door so tightly his knuckles were turning white. “I was just, uh, but, I mean.. I’m just gonna… gonna go, sir.”

“Wait.” Tony stopped him before the kid could turn around and flee the scene. Something seemed to be on that boy’s mind and it seemed important enough to make the trip to the hospital, find out the kid’s room number and muster up the courage to come see him when they evidently weren’t close friends. “Are you here to see Peter?”

“Ye- yes,” came the reply, almost a whisper before he suddenly seemed to be reminded of something, straightened his back and cleared his throat. “Yes, sir.”

It reminded Tony so much of himself at that age, with Howard’s voice always in his head telling him to stand tall, speak clearly, act strong and demand respect, that he had to mentally take a step back from the scene and the onslaught of memories of being constantly afraid to focus on the boy at hand.

This was new, too, embracing the innate empathy that had been buried deeply by an ingrained need to deflect. He tried not to dwell on how natural it felt, how satisfyingly fulfilling, and instead decided to blame it completely on the unconscious teenager whose heartrate gave him a calming beat to focus on.

“Come on in, then. What’s your name?” he asked him, the hand that wasn’t holding on to his kid running through his own hair in a futile attempt to sort it. Paired with a crinkled suit and deep lines of worry marring his face this was admittedly not his best look.

There had been moments in his life when he would’ve cared about his appearance in a public hospital but his priorities had shifted drastically since then. Sometimes it felt that everything had shifted until a teenager from Queens had become the new axis of his world. The one thing everything else was circling around. The sun of his galaxy.

“Eugene, sir. Eugene Thompson.”

Tony watched closely as he shut the door behind very carefully before turning around to face the bed. He seemed unsure of himself, hands tugging on designer sleeves, eyes darting all over the room, never resting anywhere for too long, always avoiding to look at either of the other men.

Something in his tired brain had peeked up at the name but it took him an embarrassingly long moment to match the boy’s unease and name with a fitting story. He started clenching his hands to fists involuntarily, anger roaring in his chest, before his new instinct took over and he forcefully relaxed his grip on Peter.

Peter was his priority.

“You’re Flash, aren’t you? You’re the one who put him here.”          

“I –“ For a moment the offender seemed at a loss for words, caught, and he was looking like he was about to bolt through the door but then, in the time it took Tony to blink, his entire demeanor changed. Flash met his gaze, shoulders hunched, wide eyes turning glassy and hands falling to his sides unmoving. “Yes, sir. It’s my fault he’s here and I wanted to say that I’m sorry. I never meant to actually hurt him, I–“

“But you did, didn’t you?” Tony interrupted, protectiveness flaring up in his chest and making way for the anger he had been trying to breathe through. This boy, this child was the reason his kid had to be pumped to the rim with anesthesia so they could drill a hole into his skull to monitor his intracranial pressure. And he was right here. Right in front of Tony and he wasn’t fighting back.

“What did you think would happen when you tripped someone? That they start flying and end the grandiose routine with a bow to a round of applause?” he spat, vision turning red and dark and gruesome. “Tell me, Flash, what did you think would happen? What were you hoping to achieve?”

The boy flinched at the harsh words but didn’t back away in the slightest, just hung his head and murmured another apology, taking it all in.

And, dammit, Tony knew he deserved to be called out and by god he wanted to be the one to do it because he had hurt Peter. There was something in the way he stood, though, that made him stop in his tracks. It put his anger on hold, something like recognition making the blood rush in his head.

That boy looked like he had expected the harsh words and while he had flinched when Tony had raised his voice at first, he had adapted quickly and hadn’t even tried to move away. The only sign of self-defense were his arms that twitched at his side as if they were itching to cover his face.

Suddenly Tony was incredibly tired. His head was spinning, he felt dizzy and guilty and broken down to the very core.

“Flash,” he tried more calmly this time, rubbing a hand over the scar on his chest and trying to swallow past the distaste the name elicited in his mouth and beckoning him closer to the bed. When he followed suit, he watched him settle his gaze on Peter’s skinny frame, eyes roaming the various monitors before settling on the pale face.

“Tell me what you see,” he prompted the teenager whose gaze snapped up, brows furrowed. He looked even more confused now that Tony wasn’t yelling anymore and Tony the worst thing about that was that he understood.

All of the sudden he ached for the reassuring contact of Peter curled into his side, breathing and happy and alive, to keep the demons from entering his mind but tried to push it away, had to push it away.

“I, uh,” Flash swallowed, “I see Pe – Peter Parker in a hospital bed and I see that it’s my fault, sir.” The last part was barely more than a whisper, guilt heavy on his tongue.

Tony nodded, not meeting Flash’s searching gaze in favor of watching Peter. “Do you know what I see?”

“No, sir.”

He looked up then, trying to convey how much he meant every word, keeping his gaze open and not threatening. “I see the strongest kid I’ve ever met.” Quite literally, he didn’t say though the thought made his lips twitch. “I see a genius-level smart kid, well on his way to surpass me one of these days. I see a kid who is always smiling, who doesn’t have a mean bone in his body and who cares so damn much about everyone around him. I see a kid who has seen more than a kid his age should have and who has lost more than you can imagine but who refuses to become a cynical asshole because of it.”

Not like I did. He’s already so much better than I could ever be.

He squeezed Peter’s hand, breath hitching when he didn’t squeeze back.

“Did you know he told me about you?”

“No, sir.” There was a flash of fear in the boy’s eyes then and while it satisfied a very feral part of Tony he also despised being the one to put it there. He had made a vow many years ago to never install that kind of fear in a child.

“He didn’t want to, either. I had to tickle it out of him when he got home an hour late after detention sporting a bruise because he supposedly got into a fight. Do you know what he told me?”

“N- no, sir.” Tony watched his whole body turn rigid, observed how his gaze never wavered from his and how his hands tremble. Despite himself, he tried to shoot him a reassuring smile.

“He told me you were having a rough time and how your mum was close to tears the last time she picked you up and how you were holding your shoulder funny. He stopped me from taking a suit, blast your house and tell you exactly what I think of people shoving my kid into lockers,” he told him, trying to keep his voice even and without a trace of malice.

“Tha- I’m not sure what –“

He decided to give the fidgety teenager a moment to sort his thoughts and took the time to brush a few loose curls from his own teenager’s forehead. The motion was familiar, calming and it gave him the strength to press on.

“The thing is,” he sighed, hand still resting on Peter’s forehead as if he was trying to summon the boy’s goodness, “I understand shitty family. I get scary fathers and crying mums,” he swallowed hard and met Flash’s gaze again. “I know weird bruises you can’t explain away.”

“I – I don’t – I’m not –”

“Yeah, neither am I,” Tony scoffed before softening his gaze and trying to school his voice into a stern but kind tone. “What I’m trying to say - and believe me I’m bad at this and would rather be doing anything else - is that while I get why you are acting out, I want you to know that I won’t let this happen ever again. I will not let you keep tormenting my kid because you’re having a tough life. I will not stand by and let you ruin his days and land him in hospitals, are we understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.”

They stood quietly together for a while, the atmosphere in the room while not exactly comfortable wasn’t dripping with fear and anger anymore. It was calm, peaceful. Like the sea after a storm.

To Tony’s surprise it was Flash who broke the silence. “I thought he saw me and – and I thought he saw me putting out my leg for him to trip over. I- I thought he’d just, stumble and drop the balls I- I never wanted – I’m so sorry, Mister Stark.”

The older man nodded, the sigh he let out feeling like every piece of resentment he had carried for decades on his chest. “I appreciate that but it’s not me you should apologize to.”

“I know but,” there was a heavy pause, “I’m scared.”

“I know,” he replied because he did, “but you don’t have to be. Not of him. As much as I hate how gullible he is sometimes, if you apologize to Peter he will forgive you, no questions asked. And if you start being a decent human being you might even find a friend in him. I think you could need good people in your life, and Peter is the best.”

“Thank you, sir,” Flash whispered, “For- for your words and, uh, for not blasting my house.”

Tony looked up and grinned. “You’re welcome but don’t do it again or I still might.”

-

Peter

When Peter woke up it took him a lot longer than it normally would to realize that this wasn’t the setting he usually woke up in.

His head was angled in a way that when he did manage to pry his clotty eye lids open the first thing he saw was his mentor. Blinking he tried to clear his view of the man who hadn’t yet realized his charge was awake and whose gaze was fixated on a spot to Peter’s right with a heavy hand resting on the boy’s arm.

Mindful of the buzzing in his head he tried a smile. “Hi T’ny.”

“Kid?” The heavy hand tightened around his arm before loosening and rubbing a calloused thumb over his skin. A silent welcome back.

“Oh baby.” A soothing voice on his left and a delicate touch of a familiar hand. Aunt May. Her voice alone eased his headache tremendously

“Dude!” It sounded a little breathless, a little forced- cheerful and impossibly relieved. His heart warmed at hearing his best friend’s voice and he was about to reply when he picked up two other voices.

“Peter?”

He blinked again, moving his head as slowly as possible to make out the people they belonged to, grateful when May’s hand found his forehead and her cool fingers started running through his hair.

MJ and Flash were standing at the foot of his bed, both looking confusingly contrite and his brain was too tired, too fuzzy to come up with a good enough explanation as to why but he figured since they were the ones at his hospital bed he was entitled to ask.

“Whataya doin’ here?”

It wasn’t that he was scared of them, uncomfortable was probably a better word or self-conscious maybe, but he was tired, he was hurting and he really, childishly just didn’t want to deal with any of that right now.

He had his family on his side, though. Tony to his left, May to his right with Ned next to her. They were shielding him, literally and metaphorically, from anything that might be thrown his way and he felt himself somewhat relax once that thought had settled in.

His classmates seemed to have come to the same conclusion and for a change they were the ones who looked self-conscious when they exchanged a look. (Since when did MJ exchange a look with Flash? Maybe this was a fever dream.)

“We wanted to apologize,” they said in unison again and hadn’t he been so sure that his aunt’s and mentor’s touch were real he would’ve bet on this being a fantasy. Not just because they were so in tune but also… since when did they apologize? What were they apologizing for?

Almost as if they’d read his mind, they continued.

“I haven’t been very nice to you.” MJ said, fidgeting with the sketch book in her hands “I see you as a friend and I realized that I shouldn’t treat my friends like that so… I’m sorry.” She paused, meeting Peter’s gaze and he smiled again, about to tell her that it’s okay when she plowed ahead, taking a step forward as she pulled a page from her sketch book and gave it to him.

It was a picture of Ned and him during lunch time. They were both laughing, bend over their respective meals with a juice box sitting between them. “Nerds are cool” was written down in neat handwriting in the center.

“And I’m sorry, too.”

Before he had the chance to react to the nice gesture, Flash took over, voice rushed.

“For.. for everything,” the words caught in his throat, “For landing you here and for being an asshole and making you miserable for no reason. I’m – I’m gonna stop doing that, I promise.” With that he stuck out his hand which Peter, completely taken aback, took and shook.

“It’s okay, guys,” he tried with a crooked voice that hurt his throat, “Apologies accepted and… thank you.”

He frowned then, a thought occurring to him and he turned his head to look at his mentor.

“Was Doctor Strange here?”

At that Tony barked out a laugh, his eyes twinkling with mirth and gentleness when his hand replaced his aunt’s to ruffle his hair. “No, for once our strange friend had nothing to do with this.”

So not a different dimension then.

He wouldn’t rule out the fever dream quite yet but for the time being he was content and tired enough to just take what they said at face value. He would probably worry about it some other time. Right now he was surrounded by his family and not-enemies-might-be-friends and that was good enough for him.

[aubreyweston]

When: Freshman Orientation 2017 👀

Where: the hall where all the freshmen get to learn about clubs and activities on campus

Who: Aubrey and @smythenyu

Warnings: nothing they’re just bickering but we love a first meeting!

Word Count: 1,364

aubrey's orientation day had been going better than he'd expected. he'd woken up, sick to his stomach with nerves, and afraid he'd made an awful choice in deciding not to stay in minnesota for school, but as the day had gone on, he'd felt himself relaxing. but that also might've been his meds.  it was kind of hard to tell these days. still, he'd met a lot of people that seemed friendlier than he'd expected. he'd attended as many sessions as he could, and taken a lot of notes. possibly too many notes. but he knew how much an education at nyu cost, and even if the school was paying his way, he wasn't going to waste a second of it. now that most of the important sessions were over, he'd decided to go check out the clubs and see if anything tickled his fancy on campus.

sebastian had been to new york many times throughout his life and when deciding upon a college he wanted to switch it up a little from the san diego beaches he was used to at home with his mom. new york had seemed the obvious choice. sebastian felt like he flourished in big cities. he was also consciously aware of the fact that the orientation date was the same as the soul date on his wrist. even if he didn’t believe in all the soulmate bullshit, it had been drilled into everyone from such a young age as something to aspire for. if sebastian did meet his soulmate it was going to be today. he made his way through the stalls, in search of the lacrosse stand, eager to join as he’d played most of his life. he pushed his way through the crowd of students, stumbling slightly right into someone from behind. “fuck.”

aubrey was reading a pamphlet about the campus radio station when someone bumped into him. he turned, and frowned, before his expression softened minutely when he came face-to-face with a very attractive male. "are you good?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "kinda shitty how they crammed us all into this tiny hall, huh?" he said, gesturing at the crowded room. aubrey wasn't even a claustrophobic person and the number of students in the little extracurricular hall was making him feel suffocated.

sebastian blinked as he looked up at the boy when he turned around, a smirk slowly tugging at his lips as he looked him over. “yeah, i’m good,” he murmured, pleased to see a pretty face amongst the crowd. “yeah, it’s terribly inconvenient,” he said as someone pushed past again and he was nudged closer to the other boy, chuckling as he steadied himself against his chest. “sorry,” he drawled.

aubrey was about to reply when someone pushed into the other again and suddenly they were much closer than he'd anticipated. "um, it's fine," he said, taking a deliberate step back, not caring if he was the one knocking into another student this time. he'd rather be another asshole in the crowd than be that close to someone he'd literally just met. in the back of his mind he knew today was the stupid day on his skin, but he'd made a conscious effort to not think about it, and not let it colour his decisions. he glanced back down at the piece of paper in his hands. "were you looking into the radio station too?"

sebastian chuckled softly, glancing up at the stand as he spoke. he raised his eyebrows, “not exactly, no. i was looking for lacrosse actually. what are you studying?”

lacrosse. the word almost makes him snort. it's a rich boy's sport through and through. but aubrey has manners sometimes so he keeps that thought to himself. "journalism. and social work. and i have a psych minor," he admits. it's a mouthful every time he says it, and sometimes he's afraid he's bitten off more than he can chew. "you?"

sebastian nodded, smiling as he ran a hand through his hair. “oh nice. i’m majoring in international law and minoring in mandarin,” he said. maybe he was bragging a little, especially considering that he barely knew any mandarin at this point in time. could you blame him? this guy was hot. “i’m sebastian,” he introduced himself then, holding out his hand.

lacrosse player who wants to be a lawyer, could this guy possibly be any more of a stereotype, aubrey thought to himself. "mandarin sounds cool. i literally can't speak any languages other than english and some very broken, basic spanish but i wish i knew more of them." he said, before reaching out to take the proffered hand and shaking it. "i'm aubrey."

sebastian grinned softly, “nice to meet you, aubrey,” he said, “interesting name, it’s cute.” he got pushed again and sighed, “do you wanna come to a party tonight? the frat i’m rushing is throwing one.”

aubrey shot him a small smile at the compliment, before he glanced back at the radio stand and reached down to scrawl his name on the email sign up sheet. when he looked back up, sebastian was once again closer than he'd been before, and his question had him tensing up slightly. "thanks for the invite but it doesn't really sound like it's my scene."

“how do you know what your scene is? we’re freshman,” he said, chuckling. “maybe i can get your number at least,” he said, moving closer now of his own accord, smirking softly.

"i didn't realize our personalities only develop once we become sophomores," he snarked, crossing his arms. "i know i don't like greek life and i don't like parties and i don't like people embarrassing themselves in public so. not my scene," he said, glancing around the room to see if he could spot the baking society table. he frowned, blinking back over to sebastian when the other took another step closer. "i'm from minnesota. i don't have a new york number yet."

sebastian sighed, “you can just say if you’re straight,” he drawled, stepping back slightly and raising an eyebrow. guys normally were falling at his feet for his number.

"i hate to break it to you champ, i can be incredibly not straight and also incredibly not interested," he said, rolling his eyes. "i know that probably hurts your fragile ego."

sebastian’s eyebrows lifted higher, laughing softly in disbelief and shaking his head, “wow, rude,” he murmured.

"i'm sure you'll get over it," aubrey replied dryly. "there's like 7000 freshman here." so maybe he was being a little prickly, but the audacity of this sebastian to just waltz over and expect aubrey to fall over for him just because he was cute? ugh.

sebastian huffed, “we’ve been talking for less than a minute and you’ve already decided what about me?”

"that you're probably full of yourself if you think the only reason someone wouldn't come to your silly party or give you a number that literally doesn't exist yet is because they must be straight, and not because they might possibly just not be interested," he said, more of his own irritation seeping into his voice. "have you considered that some people want to attend higher education for the education part? i'm not here to find a boyfriend."

sebastian blinked, snorting slightly. “who says those things are mutually exclusive? besides, i wasn’t exactly asking you to be my boyfriend, babe.”

the babe had his hackles rising. "not your babe. and not interested in being your what — fuck buddy? one night stand? whatever, either," he said, wrinkling his nose. "they're not mutually exclusive but i'm also not interested in distractions."

sebastian shook his head again, “whatever, nerd,” he said, rolling his eyes and stepping back, “enjoy your boring life i guess.”

"thanks. i will. if you spent less time bothering people, you might've noticed the lacrosse table is over there, between ski/snowboard club and the nyu republicans," he replied, smirking as he pointed in the direction of the table, which he'd spotted while they were talking.

sebastian glanced over his shoulder at the table, huffing again and not giving the other a response, turning and strutting off towards the lacrosse stand.

[kingofthewilderwest]

Hey just so you know your art is really shitty. I am talking about the one you did about book hiccup.

Oh you sweet, sweet summer chiiiiild!!!

I was drawing “shit” like this when I was sixteen - ten years ago! Ten years ago, and I could draw like this!

So why would I care what someone thinks of a small, five minute, no-erase doodle of mine? ^.^ 

Honestly, I’m in the middle of an artistic euphoria phase right now. Like, I’m legit having so much fun with visual arts - more than I have for years - and I’m delighted. Thank you so much for giving me the chance to talk about this latest exciting experience in my life! Maybe this’ll inspire some others as well? Art has been a highlight of the last few months, and even getting going on the topic now, chatting with you, is getting me happy and inspired and ready to tear out the next sheet of paper for a new bout of creativity. I’m trying my best not to start drawing NOW because of the topic you’ve brought up!

I’m working on proportions and muscle groups and more dynamic poses and figuring out digital art and testing new traditional art mediums and it’s just been a BLAST of creativity and exploration. I’m trying to figure out new styles for myself, branching WAY beyond my childhood focus of photorealism, into everything down to anime-style personalities. I’ve even checked out 3D modeling, dudes! I’m planning on exploring with cityscapes and character design and shape and color and... guys... guys... it’s literally such an exciting time for me right now. 

Art is AMAZING fun!!! What a blessing it is to create something wholly new, with the stamp of our personality, out of complete nothingness? I turned the nothingness of a piece of paper into my personality and a work of creativity. DUDE THAT IS SO AWESOME!!! Humans are so amazing in our ability to endlessly create. I think creating is one of the greatest powers and blessings our species has to offer.

Being a visual artist by hobby isn’t about improving. It isn’t even about being good. It’s about having fun. My wonderful dragon-loving friends, don’t for a second think that your artwork needs to be to some sort of quality, because it doesn’t. It doesn’t matter. If you want to improve, that’s awesome, and I’m rooting for you to have some exciting experiences of self-discovery and growth. That can be an exciting time, to go through growth, and it’s well-worth your commendable, diligent efforts. But it’s also 100% fair if you go into a hobby without desiring to improve. You don’t need to improve - you’re not in some competition where your rent’s pay hinges on drawing - you just need to enjoy yourself. There is nothing shameful about “shitty” art - it’s in fact one of the coolest things you can do, because it engages your mind and your creativity and your own unique stamp of human beauty that no other soul can give. And if you share it, you’re sharing a part of yourself, and we get to see the beautiful treasure you and your mind are!

Some of my favorite things I’ve ever seen are stick people. DRAW your stick people! Do it all!!!

I’m so thankful for everyone who shares their art on tumblr in the fandom community. Not just the people who do polished digital work, but everyone. People who are starting to figure out what a tablet is. People who haven’t touched a colored pencil in ten years. People who draw five minute scratches. People who spend thirty-seven hours on a painting. You contribute to the world of fandom, the beautiful world of fandom. Together we celebrate what it is we mutually love about our fandoms, and make this a community in which creativity and celebration and positivity is resplendent. It’s because of people like you - ALL of you - that you build this incredible environment.

I’m in the middle of a phase where I think I’m going to be making rapid advances in my artwork soon. Maybe if there’s something really cool I’ll share it with ya’ll! There’s a 50% chance I might be getting a new art tablet soon, which will unfetter all the struggles I’ve had with digital art preventing me from improving there. And there’s so many ideas I have! Guys, there’s so many ideas! So much art to put down and explore and hgghghghhhh! I’m excited.

Of course this is all on top of my other hobbies. I love being a jack of all trades and master of none. Every day’s something new to explore. I’m a conlanger and I make my own languages. I’m a creative writer and I’m planning on charging deep into a single original novel that I hope I can publish. I’m a chronic worldbuilder who loves thinking about everything from the geographic history of the world to the culture’s technology to what the cities look like to the individual culture’s elements - be it gestures, taboo language, courting rituals, what have you! I’m a music composer and I even got a Bachelor’s of Music in Composition; I’ve learned how to play over a dozen instruments; I’m itching to make covers and suites of material I love. I used to make gifs and I still miss it - maybe I’ll get back into the swing of it sometime? I made one AMV and maybe I’ll make another - I’ve always loved video editing (I did Lego stop motion stuff in the junior high, after all). And of course I want to keep writing fandom meta for all the stories that have touched my heart, be it Fullmetal Alchemist or How to Train Your Dragon or Voltron: Legendary Defender or Mass Effect or anything else. I’m hoping that I’ll get some good bursts of activity on cosplay, too! I need to work on my sewing - 2019 shall be the perfect year for it, don’t you think?

Life’s so exciting and rich and beautiful. There’s so much creativity to be had. So much to do. So much to explore.

And who gives a flipping rat’s fart if I’m not The Best(TM) of the universe? XD That’s not the true reason to create ANYTHING!

I’ve got a fuckton of weaknesses in my artistic pursuits and that doesn’t make me an ounce less awesome. Having weaknesses makes my artistic life BETTER. I honestly believe it; they make me happy. I’m excited that I have weaknesses in my visual arts abilities because it means I’m going through this period of growth. Where would be my fun if I were perfect already? I’m having a blast not because my art is perfect, but because it’s IMPERFECT. I both like what I can do already and I know ALL the areas where it needs improving - allowing me new areas to dive further and reach new goals. It’s giving me life goals, trajectory, and celebrations every time I draw something new and better than what I made last month. 

A childish, petty, and honestly rather uncreative insult isn’t going to make me blink. I know how amazing I am. I’m a powerhouse, powerfully creative, Renaissance man level talented bonfire who can do everything from advanced level linguistic scientific study to composing contemporary classical art music. I know what my strengths are and what my weaknesses are. I’ve got great weaknesses, and that’s totally chill!

I’m sorry, friend, but the only thing your message does is show how much of a naive child you are. You ignorantly think that a laughably uninteresting, child-level insult is going to affect an adult who is confident and grown in themselves. You don’t know your audience. Even if you were right that my art is shit - which it’s not - it doesn’t matter to me. My identity is more than one cute doodle with Hiccup and Toothless. It’s a shame because I’m sure you have so much positive beauty you could contribute to this world. Why waste your time with this, when it literally could not be more of a waste of your time?

What positive creativity have you done?

I encourage us all to contribute to the beauty of our community. Let’s take this moment to be an inspiration point. Let’s create together. Let’s give people reasons to smile. Let’s share posts we love and talk about why we love them. Let’s draw and write and sing and dance our way through what we love. Let’s give positive feedback on the fanfiction people wrote for us for free. Let’s send compliments to one another - that’s a legitimate form of creation and it’s one of the best. Let’s let our personalities sparkle. Kindness is so awesome. You all are so awesome.

I’m so thankful to live in a community like this, where every day I’m bombarded with incredible magic - the magic you all have created.

As for my Hiccup drawing, the HTTYD book community has a cool event going on celebrating the Twelve Days of Doomsday. I encourage you all to participate and enjoy Cressida Cowell’s works with me!!!

Who knows? Maybe I’ll have time for a few more Hiccup doodles in the next dozen days!

[devilsknotrp]

Congratulations, Rory! You have been accepted for the role of Perry Esposito (FC: Peter Gadiot). It would be too easy to write Perry as a strict black sheep, as someone without a deep hurt, who was just some tough guy. He’s really not. And you’ve brought that out in him. There were so many elements of your application that just rang so true. Perry being gently friendly to people he meets; his diligence; his quiet resolve. Perry was never going to be an in-your-face character, but he is a subtly intense one, and you’ve managed to sharpen his edges. Your writing sample was also beautifully written and so, so sad. Thank you for bringing to light how painful heartbreak can be - and how it can linger for longer than you’d expect. This was a wonderful application. Please have a look at this page prior to sending in your account.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Name: Rory Age: 22 Pronouns: They/Them or He/Him Timezone: CST Activity estimation: I’ll definitely be able to keep up with the requirements here. Depending on how strong my muse is (and how exhausted I am by the end of any given day) I’ll most likely be around most nights. If I had to give it a guess on a scale of 1 - 10, I’d put myself at about a 7!? Triggers: [Redacted]

IN CHARACTER: BASICS

Full name: Perry Esposito Age (DD/MM/YYY): 30 (09/07/1966) - Libra sun, Gemini rising, Pisces moon Gender: Cis Male Pronouns: He/Him Sexuality: Homosexual Homoromantic Occupation: Bartender Connection to Victim: Perry was aware of their existence in the way that in a small town, everyone knows everyone, but he can’t say he was even acquainted with them. The closest he’d come to having a conversation with the woman- Linda- was nodding his head at her as they’d passed by each other in Piggly Wiggly one day, but that was the extent of their relationship. He might not have even been able to tell you their names with complete certainty, before they’d been thrown into the limelight, at least. Alibi: Perry started his shift at The Bar at 4 P.M. Faceclaim: Peter Gadiot

WRITING SAMPLE

TW for (implied) child abuse.

It took a moment for things to start sinking in: the slam of the car door, the roar of the engine, the glare of the sun reflecting off the pitiful, rusted paint job and the cloud of dust that accompanied the spinning wheels. Perry just stood there for a second, his shocked brain struggling to catch up before he was stumbling after the car, running a few steps with a hand outstretched  yelling hey, yelling for Bobby to stop, wait, come back- but it was too late. A few more seconds and he was gone entirely. The car was gone and Bobby was gone and everything was gone and Perry was left standing in the motel parking lot with the California sun kissing his skin and something foreign curling up in a newly- hollowed place in his chest.

The first day, that foreign- something was made up of panic and denial and, of course, a bone- deep sort of hurt. Bobby wouldn’t… he was mad, yeah, but he’d… alright, Perry hadn’t realized he was that mad, but surely he’d… he’d come back. Perry knew he would. He’d calm down, he’d realize what he’d done and he would come back. Perry would forgive him. Hours passed, but still, he told himself- he’d forgive Bobby when he came back. Because he was coming back, even if he was taking a while- that was what he told the motel manager, when the guy came and tried to kick him off the bench he’d curled up on for the night.

As Perry’s second day alone dawned, the panic and denial heightened and started warring. He ended up stealing something from a store so he didn’t starve, but he didn’t pay much attention to what he nicked and he didn’t notice whether it tasted nice or not. It was to keep him from starving, that was all. The sun set on that second day without any sign of his dad’s shitty car, and as the world went dark so did that fizzling spark of hope he’d been harboring in the pit of his stomach.

Bobby really had left him, and he wasn’t coming back.

Perry stuck around on that third day, though. Just in case. Watching the street Bobby’d driven away on and feeling a traitorous little leap of hope whenever there was a car anywhere near the right color, but it was for nothing. Time flew by and the grief began settling in. He was an adult and he was a man and he never cried, hadn’t since he was a child, scared and hurting and hating his father, but this? Being left to his own devices for better or worse in a strange place by the only person that had ever managed to find anything valuable in him, by the only person that had ever found anything about him to actually love- yeah, he was crying. His arms wrapped around his midsection as his body shook, a hand furiously swiping at the tears trailing down his face. He bit down on the inside of his cheek so that he wouldn’t make any noise, bit it hard enough that it bled. He’d been so dumb to think this would work, to think a piece of trash like him would get away and have a fairy tale of a life.

There were better things out there than Devil’s Knot, but they weren’t for him. They weren’t within his reach.

Perry stayed there until it was sometime between late afternoon and early evening, until he was out of tears to cry, and then he forced himself to stand. He cast a glance at that motel sign, then at the space the car- his car- had been parked at. He stared for a bit, because this, right here- these moments before he gave in and let go- this was as close as he’d ever get to a real goodbye. Part of him thought that it still just felt like a really, really bad dream, but he knew he wouldn’t be waking up.

He raised both middle fingers, flipping that empty parking space the bird as he backed away, and then he made his way to the highway and began the process of sticking his thumb up at anyone that passed until someone finally stopped.

It was time to go home, now. Time to grow up.

ANYTHING ELSE?

Here’s a Pinterest board I made for him!

HEADCANONS:

Despite the fact that Perry would consider himself a friend to one (Blanca) and close to none, he’s a friendly guy. If life had given him a kinder lot, he would have been a blatant extrovert. As it is, at his core he’s a convivial guy, and despite the fact that most everyone’s still got him written off as scum- he’s amiable enough to those who extend the same courtesy to him. He’s far beyond making much of an effort. He’ll greet the customers that come in to the bar, even make small talk if someone seems interested in pursuing it, but that’s about the extent of it. He hasn’t had a boyfriend since that disaster when he was eighteen, and he doesn’t intend to ever go down that path again. When he gets lonely enough, he’ll visit a bar a few towns over where nobody knows his name or his face. There was a time when he’d wanted a future that held more than that- hell, when he’s drunk or high enough, there are times when he can still admit to himself that he wants something more- but he’s not a kid with his head in the clouds anymore, and he’s not fooling himself. Lives like that aren’t realistic for people like him. He’s learned his lesson. He won’t be burnt twice. He likes his bbartending job well enough. It pays the bills. His apartment isn’t anything fancy, but it’s decent. That’s his life. He’s going to live in this town until the day he inevitably dies alone, and he’s accepted that.

Perry is allergic to cats and dogs and pretty much anything with fur. Not horribly so, just enough to have his sinuses uncomfortable and his eyes going red. An irritation more than anything. It hasn’t stopped him from leaving a window open for the stray cat that hangs around his apartment or from blowing a portion of his paychecks on Fancy Feast for the fleabitten mongrel. He’s definitely not a fan of coming home to find dead rats or birds strewn about his apartment, but he’s joked to Blanca that it’s the cat’s way of paying rent. It is not his cat. He’s adamant about that fact, even though it’s been a couple years now since it became his roommate of sorts.

The world has been reminding Perry of the fact that he’s an outsider from the time he was old enough to understand the words coming out of the townspeople’s mouths. Maybe even before that, really. Even if he hadn’t been an outcast, though, he would have caught on to the fact that he was different. When kids his age started developing crushes, he knew there was a wide difference between what he felt towards the girls and the way his stomach would start flipping over some of the boys. It wasn’t a welcome discovery. He was hated enough as it was and even before he began to grasp the gravity of this particular difference he knew that standing out in any way would just be another strike against him. This, though… Perry wasn’t certain the fallout from it would be something he’d survive. Even now, after having so much time to adjust to the idea, he’s not quite fully at peace with being gay. Maybe the smart thing to do would be find a girl he likes well enough and pretend, but he’s never been able to bend his rebellious streak enough to do so. He’s keeping this particular disparity to himself, but that doesn’t mean he wants to just force himself fall in line with what the world would have him doing, either.

He feels freest during those rare visits he makes to the clubs out of town. He can pretend he’s someone else for a while, living a different life. It’s too easy to lose himself in the warm touch of another. It’s too easy to drown with the crisp evening air filling his lungs and the expanseless, unfamiliar sky around him, and it is far, far too easy to think about leaving then, with the possibilities of what this world could hold trying to swarm around his head. The world is so big. There’s so much out there. Objectively, he can’t say he’s never had a home. He grew up in a home with his dirtbag father and his older brother. He has a home now, too, a carefully organized and cared for apartment, a home he’s worked hard for, but privately, Perry believes that home is more than just a place. Home is a feeling, and he thinks the strongest he’s ever experienced that feeling was when he was in a car with a boy in the seat next to them as they drove into the horizon, trees and cities and lights blurring past, not knowing exactly what their future held, only that it would be good. That was a euphoria that he’s never been able to replicate, but, he reminds himself- the agony when he’d crashed and burned hadn’t been worth the exhiliration of the days that had lead up to it. It really hadn’t.

Perry can’t say he’s surprised that the present seems to be circling around to the past. This town is a fishbowl, stagnant. He’s empathetic for the kid’s friends and families, but to tell the truth- mostly, he’s just tired and cynical. There’s a sense of foreboding weighing heavy on his chest. He doesn’t know where this will go, but he doesn’t think for a moment that it’s going to end with Brian’s disappearance. Whatever’s coming isn’t going to be pretty- he just hopes he’ll get to keep on the fringes of it all.

Perry’s wardrobe isn’t any more exciting than his apartment. He sticks to muted colors, blacks and greys and whites. Nothing remotely expensive. He’s not trying to impress anyone, but he does put a surprising amount of effort into maintaining his appearance. Perhaps it has something to do with wanting to distance himself from as many similarities to his father as he can.

He drives a beat up old truck. It’s not exactly easy on the eyes, but it gets him wherever he needs to go, and that’s all that matters.

As far as general life skills go, he’s hardly a prodigy when it comes to the kitchen, but, as in most areas of his life, he’s put a decent amount of effort into being self sufficient. He’s figured out enough to get by. He’d rather cook for himself than eat at the diner. If something needs patching up, he’s handy enough with stitches. That’s not a skill he initially learned for the sake of clothing, but it’s a useful one nonetheless.